Catholicism and communism have many overlaps. Many revolutionaries studied in Catholic schools, and for them, the gospel was the first step toward getting hooked on Marx’s Manifesto. Yet none is like the story of Camillo Torres, the Colombian priest turned guerrillero, the inspiration of Liberation Theology that rocked the Church for decades. It risked splitting Catholics and shifting the Cold War in a new direction. As the Second Cold War marches on, the discovery of Torres’s remains might signal the need for new thinking about his experience.
Various information sources announced on January 23-24 the discovery of the remains of guerrillero- priest Camilo Torres Restrepo, killed on February 15, 1966, “during a clash with guerrillas. A unit of the Fifth Brigade killed five armed men. One of the bodies was identified as that of Camilo Torres Restrepo” (statement by the Colombia Minister of War).
Neither the government at the time nor the army revealed where he was buried, fearing it would become a site of pilgrimage and subversive memory. The announcement of the discovery by some media outlets, adopted by the National Liberation Army (ELN)—a paramilitary group successor to the guerrillas of the time—and somewhat confirmed by the center-left government of Gustavo Petro, still lacks definitive confirmation.
The Missing Persons Search Unit (UBPD) is awaiting verification from the Institute of Legal Medicine, which has not yet examined the remains.
Danger even in death
The news has spread across the country, bringing to mind decades of armed conflicts, and has seen the convergence of the government (President Gustavo Petro has stated the body will be buried “with all honors”) and the ELN, who hope to place the priest’s remains in the campus of the National University of Bogotá, where his leadership was fully expressed.
UBPD’s search efforts began in 2019, and in recent years, investigations into sources, documents, testimonies, and geomatic techniques have led to the discovery of the poor remains in Santander.
From the ELN’s perspective, the discovery renews the group’s image. It confirms the ideological and moral reference linked to the figure of the slain priest: “The Colombian people, for whom he fought and sacrificed his life, hope that his remains will be respected and buried on the campus of the National University.”
The ELN is one of about 20 armed groups active in the country’s provinces, mostly linked to drug trafficking, sharing some memory of the Cuban revolutionary movement with the FARC (Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia). It has about 2,500 fighters and has so far refused to participate in the national dialogue proposed by Petro. It operates between Venezuela and Colombia and has found support in Maduro’s regime, recently removed from US military intervention. The possible end of Maduro’s autocratic regime might convince the guerrilla group to sit at the negotiation table.
A few months ago, violent clashes with regular army forces resulted in around 80 deaths and thousands of displaced persons in the Catatumbo region. Clashes have continued in recent weeks. In 2025, the Victims Registry recorded: 101,587 displaced persons, 7,777 threatened with death, and 3,772 imprisoned.
The government accuses the paramilitary group of having integrated with drug trafficking auxiliary groups and of forgetting Camilo Torres’ lesson, instead adopting the example of boss Pablo Escobar.
The memory of the guerrilla priest, along with that of another former priest, Manuel Perez, leader of the ELN from 1978 to 1998, remains a living legacy of a period when violence seemed necessary for change (see here on SettimanaNews).
From Leuven to the fugitive life
Son of a wealthy family, Camilo Torres (1929–1966) was ordained a priest in 1954. Soon after, he moved to Leuven for studies, specializing in sociology, a field then experiencing rapid expansion. In Paris, he met Abbé Pierre and his movement for the poor.
He returned to Colombia in 1960 and was appointed chaplain at the National University. Thousands of young students from all tendencies vied for his leadership. With other professors, he founded the Faculty of Sociology and began an in-depth study of the Colombian people’s situation. He defended students during a strike.
He left the university to establish the Institute of Social Administration, where he intensely studied the plight of farmers and land ownership. In Colombia, 3.6% of landowners control 61% of the land, while 56% of farmers control only 4.2%. Literacy exceeds 40%. Regarding businesses, 1% of industrialists control 60% of production facilities. Miners are forced to descend 1,000–2,000 meters underground without elevators.
These are tragic elements that demand reforms in the country’s system, controlled by about 50 large families, reforms that the government was unwilling to undertake.
Father Torres engaged in dialogue with all social forces and briefly entered the political arena with the United Front, without significant success. He asked for—and received—exemption from ministerial duties and wrote: “I believe that revolutionary struggle is a Christian and sacerdotal battle. Only through it, in the concrete circumstances of our homeland, can we realize the love that men owe their neighbor. I sacrifice one of the rights I cherish most: to celebrate the public worship of the Church as a priest, to create conditions that make this worship more authentic.”
He considered himself neither communist nor anti-communist. His trajectory seemed marked. After some months of absence, in 1965, newspapers published a photo of him wearing the green uniform of the Castro guerrillero and, in a message, called for collaboration with the revolution. During his first clash with the army, he was killed.
The Church advocates non-violence.
Mons. Elder Camara said, “I am against violence, but I do not judge priests who have chosen violence, like Father Camilo Torres. I understand them.”
And Georges Hourdin, founder of Vie catholique, added: “Let us not make a martyr of him, nor treat him as an example. He is only a matter of conscience. Camilo Torres, in a particular situation, accepted the demands of his faith to the very end. We believe with Pascal’s in the witnesses who are willing to be beheaded.’ His death raises an issue we cannot ignore.”
Two years after his death, speaking at the International Eucharistic Congress in Bogotá (1968), Pope Paul VI, after condemning the unjust social conditions of the poor and calling for courage in urgent and radical reforms, reaffirmed the Church’s commitment to non-violence: “Let me exhort you not to trust in violence and revolution. This is contrary to the Christian spirit and may even delay and hinder the social elevation you legitimately hope for.”
Regarding the discovery of the body, no official reactions from the Church have yet emerged; it is apparently awaiting confirmation.
In recent months, the Church has continued to denounce the intolerable violence still present in the country, once again calling on armed groups to cease hostilities, accept dialogue, and respect international humanitarian law.
In 1995, it agreed to mediate between guerrillas and the government, and renewed its commitment in 2019. The deaths—over a million—caused by political violence over these decades deserve to be honored in peace.
