Interview with Camilo Eduardo Umaña Hernández

Camilo Eduardo Umaña Hernández served as Vice Minister of Justice in Colombia for two years, until October 2024. He currently resides in Boston, Massachusetts, where he has begun a fellowship at Harvard’s Kennedy School to research issues related to human rights violations. Starting in spring 2025, he will also be a professor at the Centre for Latin American Studies at Brown University. For the next year, he will split his time between Boston and Providence, combining research with teaching.

What do you consider to be your most significant achievements throughout your career, particularly in the field of human rights and public policy?

I have had the opportunity to work in different areas that have allowed me to combine my training in human rights with public policy. I began my career as a lawyer in the public administration of the Bogotá district and as a human rights defender in various non-governmental organisations in Colombia, where I focused on litigation related to enforced disappearances, extrajudicial executions and trade union rights. This experience led me to study subjects beyond law, such as sociology, to better understand human interaction in these contexts.

I then decided to do a Master’s degree in the sociology of law at the International Institute for the Sociology of Law in Oñati and later a PhD at the University of the Basque Country. I also had the opportunity to do a PhD in criminology at the University of Ottawa. These experiences allowed me to complement my legal training with social science knowledge.

Upon my return to Colombia, I worked with the United Nations team in the preparation of the institutions of the Peace Accords, helping to set up the Unit for the Search for Disappeared Persons and the Truth Commission and providing technical assistance to the Special Jurisdiction for Peace. I then joined the Truth Commission as an investigator, leading a team focused on investigating human rights violations by state agents and access to justice in the armed conflict. This work culminated in my contribution to the Commission’s final report.

In recent years, I have been a professor at the Externado University, where I directed the Masters in Human Rights. Most recently, I was Vice-Minister of Criminal Policy and Restorative Justice at the Colombian Ministry of Justice, leading complex policies on drugs, transitional justice and criminal and penitentiary policy. Now I am a researcher at Harvard and will be a professor at Brown University in the spring.

Could you tell us about your first personal and professional experience with restorative justice and how this perspective impacted your approach to human rights advocacy?

Of course, my first experience of restorative justice came indirectly through my work in human rights advocacy. From the very beginning, I used methods in my work with victims that, without knowing it, were in line with the principles of restorative justice. Later, during my PhD, I came into closer contact with restorative justice theory, especially in Canada. This approach allowed me to reflect on my work, to identify certain restorative elements and to explore new ones that I was not aware of.

So my first experience was more of a theoretical and reflective approach to restorative justice, which was very useful when I started to develop working methods in the Truth Commission and the UN Human Rights Office. And, of course, in the position of Vice-Minister, it was a mixture of my background and what I had been able to develop in Colombia, and could now take to the next level, which was to turn it into public policy issues. So it allowed me to learn about it first from a theoretical and academic point of view and then to see it in social practice and in the defence of human rights and then to take it into public policy.

Photo by Piret Räni: Camilo Eduardo Umaña Hernández in Tallinn

What influence did the murder of your father have on your vision of restorative justice and your decision to participate in the Havana dialogues?

The experience of my father’s murder has had a profound impact on my life and my understanding of justice. I was a boy of 12 or 13 when my father was killed. At that time, the question was much more radical than just a question of reflection; it was a question of survival. We had to go into exile with my mother, and that was the starting point of my interest in understanding and seeking justice. When I was growing up and choosing what to study, I always had a strong interest in thinking about these issues, especially because my father was a human rights defender who was committed to seeking justice for many people. This also meant that he saw first-hand the shortcomings of the justice system and the dissatisfaction with certain types of legal mechanisms. As a criminal lawyer, he worked in very violent contexts, defending persecuted people, and this allowed me to see how justice could sometimes actually harm people rather than help them.

This personal experience awakened in me the conviction that the search for justice had to be qualified in different ways. In the face of human rights violations, it was not enough to find and punish someone; it had to be thought of in a much broader framework that went beyond the specific act. In this sense, my goal was partly to prevent other children and families from going through what I had gone through.

For me, it was essential to think about a much broader framework of justice that went beyond the concrete fact of my father’s murder. For almost 20 years, I have tried to move the case forward in the criminal justice system, facing many difficulties and even threats. However, my aim has always been to go beyond this single criminal case. That is why my involvement in social and victims’ movements has been crucial, because it has allowed me to think about justice in different arenas and to do something about it.

One of these important experiences was my participation in the Havana talks with the FARC, where I was invited to be part of one of the five delegations of victims that participated at different points in the negotiations. Each delegation was made up of about 10 people, and the aim was for these 50 victims to speak directly to the negotiating parties to present not only their claims, but also the context of what they had experienced. My delegation, I would like to think, had quite an impact on the negotiators and this allowed us to exchange ideas and perspectives on what justice meant to us.

My concern was that this fight against impunity should not be interpreted as a call for the most severe punishments for all those involved.

At the time, I was doing my doctorate both in the Basque Country and in Ottawa, and my thesis was on impunity. A central aspect of the Peace Accords, and something I always insisted on, was the need to overcome impunity without opening up a punitive agenda. My concern was that this fight against impunity should not be interpreted as a call for the most severe punishments for all those involved. This extreme vision seemed counterproductive to me, as it could block real solutions to the problems. My concept of impunity seeks to transcend punitiveness and focus on accountability in order to build a more conscious society capable of restoring social harmony.

Emerging from the transitional process with a more responsible society means being more aware of the impact of the penal system on those who break the law, and also removing the powers that operate above the law. Reducing everything to prison as the sole objective is a deficit for society. That is why my approach has been to propose a framework of justice that includes truth, the search for the disappeared and mechanisms that reduce the chances of repeating the mistakes of the past. These are the ideas that I have put forward and that have guided my understanding and approach to the conflict.

After years of working in restorative justice, especially in large-scale conflict contexts, what are the most important lessons you have learned?

After years of working in the field of restorative justice, I have learned that it is not a universal solution. Restorative justice is not a panacea; it has great potential to address social bonds, but in societies where serious atrocities have been committed, those bonds need to be rebuilt step by step. People cannot be expected to live together again from scratch, but must do so on the basis of what has happened. In these contexts, the impact of restorative healing can be significant, especially at the intergenerational level, although its impact on the generations closest to the conflict may be less pronounced.

I have also found that restorative justice is highly contextual. It depends on the social state of a community and its relationships, which means that it cannot be applied as a one-size-fits-all prescription for all contexts, even within a country. Within the same historical context, it can be applied in the same way to different levels of conflict. What works in one place or for certain social sectors may not be applicable in others. It is therefore crucial to assess and study the effects, both positive and negative, in order to adapt it to each situation.

A common mistake is to confuse restorative justice with ‘justice in kind’, that is, material solutions such as returning money or building monuments. The key to restorative justice lies in the social process that takes place rather than in the end result. When we become obsessed with outcomes, we lose sight of the restorative power that the process has on social relations.

While the importance of restorative practices and theory is often emphasised, there is also a need for clear normative frameworks and public policies to support these initiatives. Without these, programmes become sporadic and rely on isolated efforts. Restorative justice requires time and social agreements, often supported by norms and public policies that ensure continuity and effective implementation.

It is crucial not to see restorative justice as competing with retributive justice. Such a dichotomy between restorative and retributive does not capture the complexity of social conflicts. For example, social movements often promote transformative justice, which does not fit strictly into one of these categories, but requires different agendas and approaches.

Ultimately, restorative justice does not seek to be the solution to all social problems, but rather to broaden the ways in which conflicts are understood and addressed. We need to be aware of its limitations and potential, and avoid making invisible other forms of justice that are needed to transform societies. These are some of the key lessons I have drawn from my experience.

As Vice-Minister of Justice, what have been the biggest challenges you have faced in implementing restorative justice policies in Colombia? How did you address those challenges?

As Vice-Minister of Justice, one of the biggest challenges I faced was the lack of clarity and knowledge about what restorative justice actually entailed. Paradoxically, even among those who were developing practices that called themselves restorative, there was often great ambiguity about its definition and objectives. This lack of clarity has made it difficult to translate restorative justice into effective public policy, since the implementation of public policy requires clarity and concrete indicators to evaluate progress.

Often restorative justice is conceived in a very abstract way, based only on values, which makes it difficult to translate into measurable indicators. For example, if we are developing a restorative justice programme, we need to ask ourselves how we will know if we are really making progress. We need to measure impact by factors such as the number of people involved, the number of professionals trained, the reduction in conflict or the creation of alternatives to incarceration. Without such measurements, it is difficult to evaluate and improve the policies implemented.

Another major challenge is the lack of adequately trained human resources. Not all people developing these programmes have specific training in restorative justice. In addition, the language of restorative justice tends to be broad and is often confused with practices such as arbitration, mediation or even religious approaches that focus on forgiveness. This broadness makes it difficult to define the scope of restorative justice, what it seeks to achieve and how it is measured.

In a context such as Colombia’s, where social realities are highly variable, the development of public policies requires a constant capacity to adapt. What seems relevant at one point in time can quickly become outdated, requiring continuous monitoring mechanisms to adjust policies in time. This is where the application of social sciences and data management becomes fundamental, as they allow us to know what is happening in real time.

It is therefore necessary to have studies and investigations that generate solid data and provide us with clear analyses. During my tenure, I have focused on generating knowledge from this data and making informed, evidence-based decisions. However, achieving this remains a major challenge for restorative justice, which has often been divorced from rigorous data management and applied science.

What are your hopes for the future of Colombia, particularly in terms of the impact of restorative justice on the penal system and society in general?

My hopes for the future of Colombia, particularly in terms of restorative justice, stem from a programme we have already begun to implement, which aims to be an alternative to prison for women heads of households who have committed certain crimes in marginalised conditions. If this programme is fully implemented, it could allow about half of the women in prison to return home and do community service rather than face imprisonment. This would change the perception of prison not only for women, but for the system as a whole, and open up the possibility of extending this policy to other populations, creating a more constructive view of criminal punishment.

Another crucial aspect is the judicial measures adopted by the Special Jurisdiction for Peace (JEP). I hope that the jurisdiction will be able to establish a clear and effective link between these measures and the harm caused during the conflict. It is essential that restorative justice measures are understandable and genuinely connected to the affected communities if they are to have a real impact. Otherwise, there is a risk that restorative justice will be perceived as something alien and lose its capacity to become a meaningful tool.

There are also promising experiences in the field of juvenile justice, where restorative justice programmes have been shown to help young people improve their education, strengthen their family ties and desist from delinquent behaviour. However, these programmes are still limited to a few cities in the country. I hope they can be expanded to reach more young people with similar problems.

In general, I believe that restorative justice should go beyond the realm of criminal law and formal sanctions. My wish is that it becomes a way of dealing intelligently with social conflicts at the level of communities, schools and neighbourhoods. This would make it possible to address not only crime but also other social issues that are currently dealt with in isolation and mainly through community initiatives.

Finally, it would be ideal if these efforts could be consolidated into a broad and coherent public policy that promotes restorative justice programmes throughout the country. This comprehensive approach would build a more just and reconciled society, and is the path I would like to see Colombia take.

For those facing large-scale and systemic conflicts, what final reflection would you like to share about the role of restorative justice in these contexts?

In the context of large-scale and systemic conflict, restorative justice must focus on the experience of victims, not only on their pain, but also on their capacity to process and address that suffering. It is important that these initiatives do not divide society into rigid categories of those who have caused the violence and those who have suffered from it, as there are many sectors that do not fit neatly into these categories. People may have participated in the conflict through their discourses, practices or ideas, or they may have been affected in different ways by the actions of others. There is therefore a need to move beyond this simplistic view and to develop social dialogue systems that allow for a holistic approach to addressing harm.

Another crucial aspect is to understand that restorative justice takes time. Societies that have experienced extreme situations, such as war, often feel that time is short because of the urgency of survival. When survival becomes paramount, strategies for achieving justice tend to fade. It is, therefore, essential that societies create conditions in which survival is not the most pressing issue, so that they can focus their efforts on justice processes.

Restorative justice looks not only to the past but also to the future. If a society focuses only on what has happened and not on what it wants to build, there is a serious problem in applying justice mechanisms. We need to think about the future. In these processes, the new generations have a fundamental role to play, because coming to terms with the war and implementing peace mechanisms take time and require intergenerational commitment.

Finally, it is crucial to examine who leads in times of war and what kind of leadership they seek. Ordinary justice, often represented by the figure of the judge with his gavel, is not always the symbol of leadership that allows conflicts to be overcome. If leadership relies on weapons, the result will always be the same: more violence. But if leadership is exercised by social actors who have lived through and suffered the conflicts, it opens up better possibilities for rebuilding social ties.

Ultimately, restorative justice must be seen as a key to dealing with conflict, because the real progress of a society lies in the strength of its social bonds and its capacity for transformative leadership.

Camilo Eduardo Umaña Hernández is Former Deputy Minister, University Professor, Human Rights Lawyer. 

He was interviewed by Claudia Christen-Schneider. 

Contact: camiloe.umana@uexternado.edu.co

Cover image: Bogota by Random Institute / Unsplash

Published on 31st December 2024.