Scot Bower, CEO, shares why religious communities are increasingly at risk in Colombia — and how we can respond.

'I can't believe you came,' Karen said as we arrived. 'It's so dangerous here!' I was in Magdalena, northern Colombia, in the home of Pastor Karen Niebles. I’d met her a year earlier, not long after her husband Iván had been killed. Iván, also a pastor, was 28 when he was shot dead in January 2025, after refusing to let a local armed group store drugs and guns in their church. 

‘He told me that he was not afraid to teach the Bible, that his life was new,’ Karen shared at the time. ‘He told me, “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”’ When we met again this year, Karen explained how several men had recently been killed in a shooting. Violence like this has become all too normal. He told me, “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.” 

Persecuted, but not destroyed 

In March 2026, a small team from CSW were in Colombia for the launch of Perseguidos mas no Destruidos (Persecuted but not Destroyed) — a book of memories from the lived experiences of the Nasa Indigenous Evangelical Church, in the south-western department of Cauca. 

The plan had been for church and community leaders to join us in Bogotá for a high-profile launch in parliament, to draw attention to the suffering of indigenous religious minorities. But that plan had to change. It was decided that there was a very real risk to life for some of the contributors if they were to speak publicly, especially with national elections looming. 

If it was too risky for these leaders to come to Bogotá, we would go to them instead. 

The Nasa community, Cauca 

After several hours driving through the hills of Cauca, we arrived at our destination: a small settlement with a breezeblock church building. Children ran up to welcome us, while men stood drinking sweet coffee and women tended a cooking pot that was simmering on a fire. With rain bouncing off the metal roof, we sat in the church set with rows of garden chairs, and listened to shared memories of persecution. 

Brave families stood one by one and told their stories from the past 20 years. Stories of threats and violence, of arrests and beatings and murder. For many, even the simple act of telling their stories, especially to foreigners who had Lead story: Colombia travelled to their community, was immensely significant. 

One said to us: ‘We are thankful because you kept and fulfilled your word. Now we have our own book. For many people it may not seem important, but for us it is a great step forward.’ 

Expanding violence 

The violence of ideologically driven guerilla groups, as well as the countless armed criminal gangs, is reaching levels not seen for two decades. 

In Santa Marta, the capital of Magdalena, we met an indigenous Kogi Christian leader called Juan Carlos. He told us that, until last year, indigenous groups had been left alone by the armed criminal groups in the region. But now they were being forced to hand over half of any profits they made from their land. 

And it wasn’t just the minority Christian Kogi community that were affected. Holy places associated with the majority religion (traditional indigenous beliefs) had also been desecrated and destroyed. 

This recent rise in violence is not limited to remote indigenous areas, either. In the urban landscape of Santa Marta, pastors Rodian and Kelly stood beside the rubble of their church and home, which had been burnt to the ground by a local armed group. Its leader had ordered its destruction after hearing Rodian preaching from the Bible. Less than a mile away is the bustling tourist heart of this Caribbean city.

‘Without protecting the vulnerable, how can there ever be total peace?’ 

Before leaving Magdalena, we were keen to check in with our friend Pastor Karen. 

She had asked if we would be willing to spend time with her family at their home, and it felt important to honour the invitation. One of the principles of CSW is to stand in solidarity with those who suffer injustice because of their religion or belief. And here, in the ‘Banana Zone’ of Magdalena — in territory controlled by armed criminal groups — that invitation to stand with her felt, once again, like a privilege. 

We sat and talked on her front porch, played with the kids and ate plantain. We admired a parrot that lives in the tree outside their bungalow. It felt extremely normal. But less than 50 metres from where we sat, hidden from view by the tree, is the place where Iván was shot and killed — where the police refused to attend because they were too afraid. 

The men who killed Iván are still free; the level of impunity here is almost unbelievable. 

Because of their peaceful influence in communities, religious leaders are obvious targets for illegal armed and criminal groups seeking total control. 

Yet the Colombian government stripped religious leaders of state protections in 2023 — leaving them exposed to the rising tide of violence. 

Since December 2024, at least 11 religious leaders have been kidnapped or killed. Iván is one of them. In this beautiful, hospitable country, religious leaders need protecting. And we can all play a part in seeing that happen. It’s because of people like Karen and Iván, Rodian and Kelly, Juan Carlos and many others that we’ve launched a new campaign: Total Peace. We’re calling the Colombian government to recognise the unique risks that religious leaders face, and urgently restore their protection. Because without protecting the vulnerable, can there ever be total peace?

Act now. Sign our petition, urging the Colombian government to protect religious leaders: csw.org.uk/TotalPeace 

Equip your church

Looking to get involved with your church? We’d love to help. You can book a speaker, share a video, download prayer resources, and order petition postcards at csw.org.uk/TotalPeaceResources