Caught in the System: Bolivia’s Judicial Predicament | Atrapado en el Sistema: La Problemática Judicial en Bolivia

By Luz Mendoza, Eju.tv:

Summary Procedure: Innocents Forced to Accept Guilt to Stop Judicial Predation

It often happens that due to the “evident miseries” of Bolivia’s penal system, after a series of unsuccessful attempts by the accused to prove their innocence —which they are not obligated to do—, faced with the system’s indifference and usually while being detained, they have no choice but to plead guilty in an attempt to obtain some benefit.

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Illustrative photo: FP

La Paz, April 8, 2024 (ANF).— “It doesn’t matter if you’re innocent, there’s a dead person here and we can’t set you free,” was the response of the presiding judge of the tribunal to Felipe, who, finding himself penniless, turned to him, desperate, to put an end to a judicial process that had taken years, strength, and life from him over a decade.

He was in debt and jobless. His lawyer kept calling, demanding money, more money, “even though he did nothing or very little.” He went to the ATM and found nothing, not even for bus fare. For days, he had been eating very little, whatever was available. Worry consumed him. Attending hearings at any moment was a torment that shattered his peace of mind.

“I am innocent and I can prove it, but I have no money left, and I’m tired, I no longer have the desire to read through the volumes of the case file,” he confronted the judge.

Felipe says that after so many years, picking up the same legal texts, which he had held in his hands repeatedly to read and reread, became tedious, “you lose interest,” besides the possibility that it could all be in vain.

He studied law while imprisoned. As an eager student of knowledge, he spent days and nights reviewing and understanding the codes, trusting that the law was a guarantee of order and justice to defend his innocence. The pressure was so intense that he suffered a stroke. All in vain. The disillusionment was brutal.

“It’s better for you to go for the abbreviated process or we’ll give you 30 years, it doesn’t matter if you’re innocent, because there’s a dead person here, we can’t set you free, so much time has passed already, because if not, my head is also on the line,” replied the presiding judge.

Felipe says that if he were found innocent, the prosecutors and judges would have to compensate him for all the harm they caused him by keeping him imprisoned for so many years. He planned to sue them, but now, with diminished spirits and health, it was more difficult.

Debt-ridden and unemployed, what did he prefer? Continuing to pay a lawyer or feeding his family or himself? He had to choose. He had to make a decision. He says that the financial aspect was a significant factor in opting for the abbreviated process.

With much pain, after so many years of struggling to exit the process and be freed, seeing how much his family had fought for him, “it was tough to realize that all the struggle had been in vain.”

“It was very sad for me to say because they make you read, ‘you take responsibility for this act,’ and to say yes without having done it, I think it was one of the most difficult moments I’ve had in life, and also for my family, they were all crying, after so much fighting, I had to finally bow my head to submit to this corrupt system.”

Felipe was accused of the death of a young man in 2014, without having been at the scene and with scientific evidence concluding that the DNA found under the victim’s nails, from the self-defense, did not belong to him, but to an unidentified third person. In 2017, he was sentenced to 30 years in prison without the possibility of parole in the San Pedro prison, but three years later the process was reset due to serious judicial aberrations. A new trial was ordered.

Taken from the photo from mundonow.com

Arturo Yañez Cortez, a renowned jurist, wrote in his column “Summary Procedure, Equal to Guilt?” that this admission of guilt, where the accused “puts the noose around his neck by accepting an immediate sentence,” does not always mean that he is guilty in reality, since many factors can lead the accused, still innocent, facing the disaster of the criminal process, to have no choice but to plead guilty.

He said that among them it often happens that due to the “evident miseries” of the Bolivian penal system, after a series of unsuccessful attempts by the accused to prove their innocence —which they are not obligated to do—, faced with the system’s indifference and usually while being detained, they have no choice but to plead guilty in an attempt to obtain some benefit. “A criminal process, worse if it involves detention, asset seizure, expenses, separation, and frequently abandonment of the family, social stigma, etc., almost irretrievably destroys the life project of any human being.”

“Give me fewer years if I opt for the abbreviated process, so I won’t go back to jail,” Felipe told the presiding judge.

Felipe had been in the judicial process for 10 years, six of which he had spent in jail. Submerged in poverty, with his life project destroyed, he saw the abbreviated procedure as the only option to put an end to so much suffering. But the suffering did not end. The presiding judge wanted to capitalize on the last breath of a dying and desperate soul.

The presiding judge proposed 20 years, but “if you have $5,000, we can reduce the years to end it all once and for all,” Felipe recalls the official telling him.

The nightmare of money resurfaced, the presiding judge “was like a merchant seeking to profit from everything, even from the scraps, I didn’t think they also asked for money in the abbreviated process.”

“If I had that money, I would continue with the trial, but that’s what I don’t have,” he replied.

“Try to get it, there are three of us, it’s not just my head,” the judge retorted, making him understand that it’s a group effort, like a mafia, which after a hit must distribute the money among all.

The presiding judge didn’t care if he imprisoned an innocent person or released a murderer, he just wanted money or for his fatigued reality of reviewing mountains of files in a judicial system overwhelmed by thousands of cases to end.

“Besides, I’m tired of going through all this again, I have so many cases and going through your file again, it would be a relief for us if you opt for the abbreviated process and that’s the end of it,” said the judge, maintaining the proposal of 20 years in prison hoping that Felipe would accept to pay something.

“But I’ll have to go back to jail if you give me 20 years.”

“Of course, but it will only be a few years and you’ll come out with money, inside I know they come out with more money, I know how it is in there.”

Judges like the presiding judge turn justice into a customizable product, where sentences, regardless of their severity, have a price, as revealed in the case of the femicide Richard Choque who paid in 2015 to the judge of penal execution Rafael Alcón Aliaga $3,500 and a bottle of whiskey so that, through a legal ruse, he would be set free.

“You think I’m a criminal, sure, for a criminal who is used to it, it’s fine, but my life’s desire is not that, it’s not to be in jail and commit crimes,” he questioned. Seeing that he couldn’t get anything from Felipe, the presiding judge sentenced him to 15 years in prison.

Article 373 of the Code of Criminal Procedure states that once “the investigation is concluded, the prosecutor in charge may request from the investigating judge, in his conclusive request, the application of the abbreviated procedure.”

And, for it to be appropriate, “the agreement of the accused (without any pressure) and his defender must be obtained, which must be based on the admission of the fact and his participation in it,” that is, admitting to the responsibility of the crime.

Felipe recalls that the justice system always suggested the abbreviated process, from his apprehension, without having investigated anything. Police officers, prison officials, lawyers, prosecutors, at all times brought up the topic.

“In my case, the prosecutor and some lawyers came indicating that I should opt for the abbreviated process, from the moment they arrested me. I said why should I go for the abbreviated process, why should I take the blame for something I didn’t do, but everyone tells you to go for the abbreviated process, even the police officers, and many people fall for it.”

Overcrowding

The abbreviated procedure is used to reduce prison overcrowding levels, save resources, and even attempt to show quick and effective “results.” Felipe says it’s for the authorities to “wash their hands” and be able to “rid themselves of any doubts about their suitability,” so “for them, it’s simple to ask for it,” because “they don’t see you as a person, but as a number.” According to the Final Public Accountability Report of the Supreme Judicial Tribunal, in 2023, after hearings in seven prison facilities, 134 detainees opted for the abbreviated procedure. Felipe recalls that, in his case, after so many years, he had to do the same.

“All this is a terrible economic expense and personally, it has been totally destructive to my economy, to my way of life, even.”

So many years of trudging along the winding path of the judicial system has changed his perspective. At first, he believed that the judge was a qualified person, superior, very well educated, wise —that’s why they are called Your Honor—, but getting to know the system up close has given him a more complete understanding. He says they are full of prejudices, they are guided by appearances, and they do not respect the law they claim to apply and defend. He bursts into laughter when he hears officials from the Public Ministry say that the Prosecution is one of the institutions with the “highest prestige.”

“They talk a lot about ethics, but they already judge you by your skin color, by your religion, by your musical tastes, or by how you dress; they assume a lot, they say: he is (guilty), it’s obvious, have you seen his eyes, his look, things like that, ridiculous to our understanding, they are not professional at all.”

In the first sentence, the technical judges who sentenced him did not consider the DNA evidence that acquitted him, but rather his doctrine of anti-Christian rock musician and concluded that “he despises life” and therefore is guilty.

Felipe is convinced that justice is a business, he knows it from the inside, and to any person with a legal problem who asks him what can I do, he responds: If you have money, pay the prosecutor or the judge and that’s it.

“One believes that the lawyer will help, that what he says is the truth, but in the end, you realize that it’s not like that, that it’s all a business,” he says and recalls that his first lawyer promised to get him out in six months, but took his only four thousand dollars and disappeared.

Justice has taught him that between hiring a lawyer who knows the procedure and another who is tricky, it is preferable to opt for the one who does tricks, he will get you out, because with the other “you will be walking for years and in the end, you will end up in the same place that the tricky one will tell you.”

“I no longer believe in the ability of a lawyer, rather I believe in how virtuous it is to give talks or do things outside the law, because wanting money is common among them, prosecutors, and judges.”

The only peace of mind he gets from having opted for the abbreviated process is that he will no longer attend hearings or think about finding money to give to the lawyer and pay fees in the corrupt system. But an immense social and moral weight will accompany him forever. No one knows his motivations for choosing the abbreviated process, only he and his family.

“All the people who now read or find out that I went for the abbreviated process say: ‘it must have been true, that’s why he went for the abbreviated process, he must have been guilty,’ that’s what most people who know me think, they don’t say that I didn’t have money and was forced to do it, the ordinary person doesn’t know well that poison that is the judicial system.”

His morals were completely affected. A person with principles and values, with a tranquil life, a profession, and a project, by accepting to have committed something so terrible, after “doing everything possible to prove my innocence,” feels an immeasurable loss.

“I naively thought that the Criminal Procedure Code was useful, but it isn’t. And now I wonder why I had to go through all of this, why all this suffering, even financially, sometimes I have nothing to eat, why I had to endure so much and even accept guilt, to say ‘I am the guilty one’.”

*The name of the person giving the testimony was changed to keep it confidential and avoid judicial revenge

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