Whoever carried a cellphone was killed. It happened in my town.
ELN prohibits cellphones and mobile towers under threat of death, killing civilians for possessing basic communication devices in remote areas. The group justifies the ban as preventing state infiltration, blocking infrastructure projects and development initiatives that could enable communities to report abuses.
- ELN prohibits cellphones and mobile towers under penalty of death in southern Bolívar
- A man was executed by the ELN for carrying a basic mobile phone in his community
- Social leaders collected 7,000 signatures for a communications tower; the ELN blocked it and threatened to kill anyone who continued
- At least three people were killed in one town for possessing cellphones
- The group justifies the ban as preventing state infiltration and military attacks
The ELN armed group enforces a deadly ban on mobile phones and telecommunications infrastructure in southern Bolívar, Colombia, using executions to prevent community communication and state presence.
In the remote corners of southern Bolívar, the absence of a cell signal is not a gap in digital access—it is a policy of terror. The ELN, a Colombian armed group, has imposed a communications blackout so complete that it amounts to a death sentence for anyone caught with a mobile phone.
The control is absolute. The group forbids residents from owning cellphones and blocks the installation of any telecommunications infrastructure. In a region where 58 percent of rural Colombians already lack connectivity, the ELN has weaponized isolation itself. A social leader who attempted to bring a communications tower to his community describes what happened: he and his neighbors collected 7,000 signatures requesting the project. They asked permission from the ELN. Initially, the group said yes. But when the antenna arrived from Magangué, ready to be installed, the answer changed. Anyone who continued with the project would be killed. The antenna was sent back to Bogotá.
The prohibition extends beyond infrastructure to the device itself. Carrying a cellphone in ELN-controlled territory is a capital offense. The same social leader recounts a killing in his town: a man innocently brought a small phone, hoping to catch a signal outside the village. The ELN seized him, took him to a community higher in the mountains, and executed him by gunfire. His crime was possession of what the group calls a "flechita"—a small arrow, slang for a basic mobile device.
The ELN justifies the ban with a single rationale: communication enables state infiltration. If people can call the authorities, the group reasons, the police and military can locate and attack them. Therefore, any attempt at progress—a road, a tower, a phone—becomes a threat to their territorial control. When residents pushed to build a road, the ELN refused repeatedly. They rejected the idea more than ten times. Roads would allow communities to escape, to report abuses, to connect with the outside world.
The result is a landscape of fear. Social leaders describe themselves as humiliated and demoralized. Every initiative for community development is blocked. The armed group maintains constant intimidation, and those with guns hold all power. In the Serranía de San Lucas, civilians unconnected to the conflict have been killed simply for carrying a phone. In one town alone, three people were executed for this reason. Multiple cases have accumulated across the region—people with no involvement in the armed struggle, dead because they wanted to communicate.
This is not a technical problem. Colombia's digital divide is real and documented. But in southern Bolívar, the isolation is deliberate, enforced, and lethal. The ELN has created a zone where the basic human act of reaching out to another person is criminalized. Communities live under a sentence of death for the desire to speak.
Notable Quotes
We collected 7,000 signatures for development and communication. We asked permission from the ELN and they said yes. Then they said no—and said they would kill anyone who continued with the project.— Social leader in southern Bolívar
A man innocently brought a small phone to try to catch a signal outside. They seized him, took him to a community above, and massacred him with bullets. They killed him for having that phone.— Social leader describing an execution in his town
We seek development for our community, but every time we do, they stop us. They have the guns, and whoever has the guns has the power. We have been humiliated and discouraged, and that is why there has been no development in these territories.— Social leader in ELN-controlled territory
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why would an armed group care so much about phones? What's the actual threat?
Control. If someone can call the police, the military knows where to find them. But it's deeper than that—it's about keeping people dependent, afraid, unable to organize or leave.
So they're not just blocking phones. They're blocking escape routes, roads, any way out.
Exactly. A road means people can leave. A phone means they can call for help. Both are existential threats to territorial control. The group needs the population trapped and silent.
And they enforce this with executions. For a phone.
For a phone. A man in one town was killed for carrying what locals call a "flechita." He wasn't a combatant, wasn't involved in anything. He just wanted to make a call.
How do social leaders even function under those conditions?
They don't, really. They describe themselves as humiliated and paralyzed. They collected 7,000 signatures for a communications tower. The ELN said yes, then no. Anyone who pushed forward would die. The antenna went back to Bogotá.
So the blackout isn't just about security for the group. It's about preventing any kind of development.
It's about preventing anything that might weaken their grip. Development, communication, roads—all of it represents a loss of control. The group would rather keep people isolated and terrified than allow progress.