More Terrible Than Death: Massacre, Drugs, and America's War in Colombia

Having lived and studied in Colombia, I appreciate the honesty of this book. It delivers the facts and acknowledges biases openly. Although the author is more harsh in her critisism of the Para's vs the left wing guerillas, she does provide the facts that clearly show that all parties are to blame for the humanitarian disaster taking place in Colombia. The State, The Para's, and The left wing extermists are all guilty of human rights violations. Sadly, they are all being funded by the appetite for cocaine here in the USA.

The title and cover may fool potential readers into assuming Kirk's work to be just another account of vomitous atrocities and bloodshed committed by paramilitaries, while the Colombian military either colludes or does nothing. Diverging from the throng of reading material that has emerged over the past decade or so, on Colombia's conflict, the U.S.-funded "war on drugs" and "war on terrorism", Robin Kirk offers a fresh angle full of unexpected life with "More Terrible Than Death" (Public Affairs, 2003). The beauty of this book lies in the hope it embodies. There are countless contradictions Kirk uses aiming to slap American consumers awake to see our role in this quagmire. Truths, such as: where there is demand, there will be supply (no matter what); where there is no hope, there will be despair, or, as Kirk's friend Josu? Giraldo said, losing the hope that Colombians believe a fair life is possible would be more terrible than death. Exhuming inspiration from gruesomeness is something Kirk found in Colombians willing to cling to that hope. She is able do the same. Through myriad protagonists (some of whom should someday be canonized), extraordinary imagery, tireless interviewing and research Kirk surprisingly stands out as having successfully left the reader with a sense of a middle ground. Not taking sides is nearly impossible for any Colombian. The with-us-or-against-us mentality is omnipresent, not excluding the Nari?o House, where President Uribe resides. Kirk is successful in denouncing all those deserving, and expressing grave concern about the dire needs of those innocent who should be receiving protection. Using chapter titles very creatively, Kirk draws readers in immersing us in each section, engaging and engrossing us with fascinating lesser-known details for those familiar with Colombia; Kirk holds on to any reader with her alluring tone, never dryly presenting acronym after acronym, massacre after massacre. This is a book worth reading, as it is more than a fine intellectual and academic product; Kirk reaches into her being examining what she has observed, learned, and understood, sharing with readers not only another perspective different from that which Mario Murillo demonstrates dominates U.S. news sources, but she also offers a solid point of view worthy of an audience because of such a hard-to-attain neutrality. Kirk tells us how she was able to leave behind conventional human rights arguments, and she presents a resource that shows in equality the ills of the actions and inactions of not only the Colombian government and paramilitaries, but also guerrillas, the U.S. government, and U.S. consumers. While Kirk does not shy away from sharing her fair share of stories of atrocities, which abound in resources about Colombia, she gives readers more than how many were massacred, how and by whom; Kirk strives to find and communicate the meaning behind the "apparent" senselessness, contradictions, ava

Robin Kirk seems doubly gifted with the ability of a fine prose stylist and the courage of a fearless human-rights documenter. She handles the complexities of Colombia's postwar historical period admirably well. I wish there had been just a touch more of the suspense narrative, at which she is most adept. Given the succinct and artful chapter titles, I wonder whether she did battle with the publisher about the book title, which is somewhat overwrought.

More than anything else I've read on the subject, Robin Kirk's "More Terrible Than Death" brings a degree of clarity and focus to the complicated, multi-layered hornet's nest of terrorism, endemic violence, drugs and corruption that are the scourge of the proud nation of Colombia. It's interesting to note that in spite of documenting a wide range of horrific events, Kirk focuses on a glimmer of hope. The book's title is perversely positive. It comes from one of her Colombian human rights associates, who says to her (as she questions whether her efforts may be doing more harm than good) "Don't doubt. To give up is more terrible than death."The story within the story is Kirk's exemplary bravery in compiling the tales that make up this story. This is no armchair analysis.

This is the best book that I have ever read regarding the atmosphere that pervades much of Colombia.It shows both the best and the worst of the populace of that beautiful nation. The heroism of people dealing with potential death in everyday life is difficult to believe. It truly represents the character of the Colombian people.When I was in Colombia I was amazed at the expression used in everyday life of "si le toca, le toca", literally " if it touches you, it touches you". You could translate this phrase better in English as "when your time comes, it comes". The book reflects this rationalization of living under such conditions.The title may be somewhat misleading for commercial purposes. As the author explains within the book, the meaning for the courageous people of Colombia is more akin to "To Not Try to Improve the Current Condition Would be More Terrible than Death".