The collective resilience of justice in Guatemala

By Tania Briseño Oliveros

Virginia Laparra is a Guatemalan lawyer who spent two years in prison through an unfair conviction and with whom Amnesty International has maintained a close relationship, having followed her case for several years. In May of this year, a small Amnesty International delegation visited Virginia in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala. Our encounter took place before the start of a second trial, at a time when there was still hope for a positive resolution. “I’m happy to be free, but I’m also tired. Stringing out the process for as long as possible is part of the torture, it’s already been 7 years. There is nothing legal about the process, everything is arbitrary,” she told us.

I’m happy to be free, but I’m also tired. Stringing out the process for as long as possible is part of the torture, it’s already been 7 years. There is nothing legal about the process, everything is arbitrary.

Virginia Laparra.

In order to understand Virginia’s case, we need to know that she was a public prosecutor with the Special Prosecutor’s Office against Impunity (FECI) which, together with the International Commission Against Impunity in Guatemala (CICIG), played a key role in the fight against impunity and corruption in the country. These institutions succeeded in prosecuting high-ranking government officials and made significant progress in dismantling networks of corruption within Guatemala’s political and economic elite. However, this fight against corruption triggered a backlash from the political and private sectors and from the criminal groups affected by these new initiatives. Campaigns of stigmatization, harassment and defamation soon began against justice operators, human rights defenders and journalists who documented these cases. Unfortunately, the CICIG ceased to operate in 2019 after the government of Jimmy Morales decided not to renew its mandate. This marked the beginning of a difficult, unfair and painful period for many of those working against corruption within the justice system.

In 2022, Laparra was arbitrarily detained because of her work defending human rights as the head of the FECI in Quetzaltenango. Amnesty International declared her a prisoner of conscience and called for her immediate and unconditional release, an action that was supported by the United Nations Working Group on Arbitrary Detention. Despite these efforts, she spent two years in prison, during which time she was separated from her daughters and subjected to human rights violations and lack of the medical care she required.

Amnesty International considers a person to be a prisoner of conscience when they are imprisoned or otherwise physically restrained (such as being put under house arrest) solely because of their political, religious or conscientious beliefs, their ethnicity, sex, colour, language, national or social origin, socio-economic status, birth, sexual orientation, gender identity or expression, or other status, and if the circumstances leading to their detention did not involve the use of violence or advocacy of violence or hatred. Amnesty International calls for the immediate and unconditional release of all prisoners of conscience.

“Designating Virginia as a prisoner of conscience was a way not only to fight for her case, but also to protect Claudia in her own case for acting as Virginia’s lawyer,” said Cristina Alonzo, lawyer for Claudia Gonzalez and now also for Virginia. Claudia is a renowned lawyer and human rights defender who was also a former CICIG official. In 2023, she went from being a lawyer for Virginia and other former prosecutors, to becoming a new victim of criminalization and arbitrary detention by the Guatemalan justice system.

Designating Virginia as a prisoner of conscience was a way not only to fight for her case, but also to protect Claudia in her own case for acting as Virginia’s lawyer.

Cristina Alonzo, lawyer for Claudia Gonzalez and now also for Virginia Laparra.

On 23 May, Amnesty International published its report The entire system against us: Criminalization of women justice operators and human rights defenders in Guatemala. This report presents a number of cases, such as those of Virginia Laparra and Claudia González, and uses them to analyse the pattern of harassment and criminalization of justice operators and human rights defenders who have contributed to the fight against impunity and corruption in the country from a gender perspective. This pattern includes the filing of multiple complaints against justice operators, forcing them to invest time and resources in their defence; online attacks such as disinformation campaigns, harassment and violence in online spaces that portray them as criminals or leak sensitive information about their cases; personal harassment of victims and their families; improper criminal prosecutions in cases with no legal grounds; trials without due process; and arbitrary detentions. This pattern is repeated and extended to cover an increasing number of people working as defence lawyers, judges or prosecutors (as in the case of Virginia and Claudia). In many cases, criminalization leads to exile, with many of those affected being forced to leave Guatemala because of these practices and threats to their integrity or their lives.

You give your profession, your life and your time to do your bit for something good, for justice.

Virginia Laparra.

“You give your profession, your life and your time to do your bit for something good, for justice,” said Virginia. “I am now back to the life I missed out on for two years.” The lunch we shared in Quetzaltenango was a welcome meeting with Virginia and her family, as well as with Bernardo Caal Xol and Isabel Matzir, both human rights defenders. Bernardo was also declared a prisoner of conscience by Amnesty International for defending the indigenous Mayan Q’eqchi’ community and the Cahabón river.

During the course of our meeting, Bernardo’s wife Isabel told us how she had learned more about Virginia’s case through the media, and how she started to see similarities with what they had experienced. Someone fighting for a just cause, who made people in power uncomfortable, and these people then used criminalization as a strategy to silence their voices. “Bernardo was in prison from 2017 to 2022. It was a great help for us to meet families who had gone through the same thing. It gave us hope: if they could get out, we could also get out. You can find peace in solidarity with other families.”

It was a great help for us to meet families who had gone through the same thing. It gave us hope: if they could get out, we could also get out. You can find peace in solidarity with other families.

Isabel Matzir, wife of Bernardo Caal Xol.
Virginia Laparra and Bernardo Caal Xol stand together holding postcards of solidarity.

Since Bernardo’s release from prison, he and Isabel have devoted much of their time, energy and resources to visiting imprisoned defenders who have been unjustly criminalised. Simply being with them, preparing their favourite food, providing them with books to help them through the process and, above all, listening to them and sharing their own experiences, is a very powerful gift of empathy that helps build a dignified, affective and collective resistance. A coming together in reflection of those who have experienced an involuntary pause in their life’s journey, often allowing them to heal. Bernardo shared his own thoughts. “I couldn’t cry. Days went by and I couldn’t cry. Until I saw another fellow defender. And when I saw her, I thought: ‘She was in prison. How did she cope? And how did I cope?’ I saw in her the pain I had experienced. But in prison there was only anger; I also thought it was a message to the enemy.”

The struggle does not end with release from prison, and the taste of freedom is bittersweet. There is irreversible damage, and complex challenges to overcome. Harassment and criminalization have a negative impact on people’s lives at multiple levels, ranging from work and financial consequences to psychological, emotional and family issues. These are people who have often been subjected to intense and prolonged campaigns of vilification and stigmatization, with no guarantee that their trial or sentencing will be fair. In addition, persons deprived of their liberty have experienced adverse conditions such as lack of access to health services, misogynistic and racist attacks in public spaces or in the courts, restrictions on visiting rights, etc.

On Thursday 18 July, Virginia took the difficult decision of going into exile in order to protect her life. This decision came a few days after she was found guilty by the Court of Quetzaltenango in the second of the two cases she was facing for allegedly revealing confidential information. She received a commutable sentence of 5 years’ imprisonment and a fine of 50,000 quetzales, as well as being banned from holding public office for ten years. “I take this step with great sadness and in the full knowledge that this decision will be particularly difficult for my family, my friends and my lawyers. I ask you to understand the difficulty of my decision and that I am doing this solely to protect myself and them,” she wrote in a letter. Laparra joins more than 50 justice operators, journalists, Indigenous leaders and activists in Guatemala who have gone into exile after denouncing political persecution against them by the Public Prosecutor’s Office following the closure of the CICIG in 2019. “I am more certain than ever that truth is on my side. And from exile, I state once again: this is something they will never be able to take away from me,” she added.

I am more certain than ever that truth is on my side. And from exile, I state once again: this is something they will never be able to take away from me.

Virginia Laparra.