Diplomacy Has Its Work Cut Out For It

These days, the historic benefits of diplomatic immunity are still in current use. One need not think back to the Cold War to understand the necessity and justification for such an advantageous status.

The recent tensions between Venezuela and Columbia are a testament to what would have become of our diplomatic corps – or that of our neighboring country – had it not been protected by international legislation. Nevertheless, this legislation, as with many others, is both used and abused. For example, it wasn’t designed for the use of diplomats or consuls to commit traffic violations or run over civilians. Even less so, for those who calmly safeguard themselves inside their car along with their escorts, instead of going to the aid of the victim. Nor is immunity meant to allow only the sending of compensatory flowers to the hospital, adding to the cynicism of the situation. Nevertheless, two years ago, such was the case when U.S. Embassy official Clifford Neal ran over the Colombian woman, Maria Stella de la Ossa, who after various operations still suffers complications from the accident. “So to whom do I go now, to a divine court of law?“ asked the victim’s husband last December during an interview granted to El Espectador after the Civil Chamber of the Supreme Court rejected the case on the grounds that it did not establish a legal precedent for judicial action against a diplomat. In all truth, it didn’t. But it’s also true that matters never should have gotten to the point of bringing suit against the American Embassy. The case should have been tried in U.S. courts or the official’s diplomatic immunity should have been revoked. Regarding this type of responsibility, a human one, if you will, instead of relying upon global legislation, would it not be better to base procedure upon a mutual trust between nations? It is shameful that immunity should lead to impunity in such a blatant manner.

This brings to mind a nightmare also endured by some of our citizens who have been unjustly named on the Clinton list. Said list, released by the U.S. Treasury Department, is a register full of people or world entities that, due to suspected links to drug trafficking, are prohibited from doing business with the U.S. This practice in Colombia has no legal effect whatsoever. Nevertheless, it is not unusual for these major world power policies to spill over and have an impact. Indeed, being on the list in Colombia means dying a civil death: No job, no credit, not even as much as a savings account is offered to them by anyone, for fear, and rightly so, of merely being associated with them.

Recently, renowned lawyer Carlos Gamboa was ostracized in this way after what he justifiably describes as the bitterest two years of his life. Amongst the many well-known injustices he endured was being named as part of the Mor Dale family. Along with those most publicized cases, we have those least visible, such as that of the Drogas La Rebaja winery manager, Tito Cartegena, or the cleaning woman María Isabel Merchant, whom he employed to wash out wine casks. How are they expected to defend themselves? Is it easy? Is it cheap? The burden is the same for all who end up on the list as a result of U.S. personnel negligence and it is not lessened by the fact that since 1995, of all the undeserving people and institutions who were stricken from the list, 85 percent were Colombian. No doubt, our diplomacy has its work cut out for it: One thing is to let the powers that be continue being powerful and another, by contrast, is for us to permit such abuses without as much as putting up a fight.