I originally was fascinated and awed by the life and story of Escobar and held a sort of reverence for the man, but during and after reading this book I was rooting for him to be caught and killed. For someone who is an adamant pacifist, it was striking for me to feel relieved by someone's death.

Contrary to what you read on the dust jacket Killing Pablo does not read like the best of novels. It reads like hastily assembled notes put together without the benefit of much reflection by either the author or an editor. The narrative sometimes contradicts itself in the same paragraph; seemingly important revelations are forgotten; timelines are jumbled. This leaves the book with two devices to help it along: the drama of its sensational story and the promise of scandalous revelations gleaned from Bowden's excellent array of sources.

Bowden is famous for Black Hawk Down, a book which did two things: it popped along like a great action story, and it revealed the tactics (and confirmed the existence) of Delta Force. Killing Pablo is marketed as a similar exposé, promising to reveal the top secret roll of Delta Force and other US military and intelligence assets in bringing down and extra-judicially killing Pablo Escobar. While Delta operators were willing to discuss with Mr Bowden the tactical play by plays of what happened on the ground in Mogadishu during the ambush made famous by Black Hawk Down, they were either unable or unwilling to shed much light on their roll in the hunt for Pablo Escobar.

Killing Pablo reveals little about US special operations in Colombia, apart from the actions of a top secret Army intelligence gathering unit. While Bowden confirms that Delta operators and SEALs were in country during the hunt for Escobar, he reveals little about what they were or weren't doing. His insinuations that Delta snipers may have been actively assassinating Escobar's minions, and that Delta operators may have participated in raids that often resulted in extra-judicial executions feel, without evidence, like marketing ploys. You will not come away from this book knowing the full extent American special operations forces played in the killing of Pablo Escobar. That that promise is used to sell the book with a wink and a nod leaves a rotten taste in the mouth.

Dramatically, the book is little better. Despite massive US military aid, and what was essentially all out war between the Medellin cartel and the Colombian government, Pablo Escobar's pursuers stumbled and erred at nearly every step. Far from the taut cat-and-mouse story of a populist and murderous kingpin from the lower classes whose cocaine assisted class climbing was thwarted by the Colombian aristocracy with US aid, Killing Pablo reads like a badly written reportage of procedural ineptitude. Had it been written by Graham Greene it might have made for a brilliant Coen brothers farce. As is, Killing Pablo is old news boringly told.

A very thorough biography of Pablo Escobar, the brutal drug lord of Colombia, and the chilling violence that was his world. The story tells of his rise from a small city street thug to the most powerful and richest criminal in the world. Escobar loved his hometown and won the people over there and in all Columbia, by building soccer fields and public housing for the them. He became a local hero, he served in Congress, all the while blowing up cars and killing those that got in his way. Unfortunately many innocents were blown away too. Escobar owned the police and anyone he threatened knew better then to cross him. Columbian officials were unprepared and unable to stop him.

Then, the USA was persuaded to join the hunt and things began to change. Bush, infuriated with the contrite use of drugs in the USA, began his war on drugs. He recruited all the ABC agencies and Special Ops teams we had available. The "rule" was, none of them could take Pablo down. They could only help train and observe the Columbian forces . If this is what truly happened, I cannot tell you. It seems unlikely that the Columbian forces could have done this alone. Then again, Escobar's snitches within the system would have made it difficult for anyone to catch him. As soon as the U.S. would get a lead on him, using special spy planes, a raid on the compound would strike, and guess what? No sign of Pablo.

Escobar was finally put into a prison, by making an agreement with the Columbian government. Another unfortunate: The so called prison was built and owned by Pablo and was more a luxury resort then any type of a prison. The prison guards were under his control and Escobar continued his drug funneling and murder while supposedly locked up.

I have read Bowden before and have enjoyed his books. This fell short for me due to the extreme writing and explanation of all the forces involved in bringing Escobar down. There were chapters of explanations on every agency that became involved that I had to skim over in order to complete the book. In my opinion most of this could have been cut down, making it a more satisfying read. I will read him again, his research on his subjects is always top notch.

It is, I think, a common misconception that Pablo Escobar was a creature which rose from the depths of big time illegal drug trade. For while it is true, as depicted in this book, that illegal drugs were what made him big, as in fact at the highest point of his criminal career he was one of the world’s richest men, illegal drugs alone would not have made this possible. It was rather the culture of violence, prevalent in Colombian society and where Pablo Escobar was born into and grew up in, which made him what he was.

Violence permeated his world. The country’s two major political factions fought eight civil wars in the 19th century, one of them leaving more than one hundred thousand dead and practically crippled the government. With this, the ordinary people learned to distrust the government and instead found heroes in outlaws and bandits who roamed the countryside defying everything. These ‘bandidos’ became role models and idols of worship to the many powerless, terrorized and oppressed poor.

“Terror became art, a form of psychological warfare with a quasi-religious aesthetic,” wrote the author. Violence is OK, even the gory and sadistic kind. It was in this society where Pablo Escobar grew up.

He started, not as a drug dealer, but as a thief. He robbed banks and anyone who caught his fancy, then went into carnapping, kidnapping for ransom, murder and protection racket. He was ruthless, charismatic and had ambition. Soon he became a local legend, a modern day Robin Hood, murderous but with a social conscience ( perception he nurtured by his well-publicized acts of charity).

This book entertainingly narrates his beginnings, his rise to power, the zenith of his career (when he almost practically brought down the government), his nail-biting, prolonged cat-and-mouse game with the authorities (aided by the US) and his eventual capture, his body riddled with bullets. Even with the most sophisticated tracking devices supplied by American operatives the hunt for him was very difficult because he had tremendous aid and support not only from people under his employ, but from the common people as well.

Fighting illegal drugs while promoting disrespect for the law and a culture of violence and impunity is, I think, a very bad idea. It is like burning a house to kill a mouse hiding in it. Worse, if the whole enterprise is but a pretense because the ones ostensibly fighting the menace are themselves neck-deep into it.

Good info, crazy history + so recent/current

Very interesting and packed with facts and info about the modern history of Colombia. Bowden gives the reader a good feel for the cultural attitudes and politics of Colombia's people and government. The problem I had with Bowden's style was the lack of clarity in his chronology, which caused me to read several paragraphs over and over until it became clear.
On a personal note, I traveled to Colombia during the most dangerous point in the setting of this story, the fall of 1992. It was fascinating to learn all that was behind the political climate while I was there.

I remember when I saw the first season of Netflix’s NARCOS, feeling distinctly cheated by the ending. Having spent so many years of narrative with Pablo Escobar, it seemed a bizarre choice to end on a cliffhanger nine months before he died. But as KILLING PABLO makes clear, the story afterwards is just as fascinating as what went before. Perhaps even more so. It basically makes up the second half of this book and I can see entirely why Netflix producers wanted to split it into a second series.

(Myself and Mrs Jameson, even though we raced through the first series, have never got around the second series of NARCOS – with no doubt that disappointment playing a big part. I’m now pushing it much higher up our ‘To-Watch’ list).

This wasn’t quite the book I was expecting. I was actually looking forward to some true crime, but what I ended up with was a book about civil war. Undoubtedly that’s what it would have felt like if you were a citizen of Columbia at the time, with a state at war with another state within. It’s a fascinating tale, filled with rich characters who Bowden draws quickly and efficiently. A book to make me really happy that I spent the early nineties in tranquil South Wales, rather than Pablo Escobar’s Columbia.

What a fascinating story about an evil man and his downfall. Sometimes the writing felt dry, and the author loved describing people as fat or chubby for no apparent reason, but I am glad that I read this book. It helped me consolidate a lot of what I already knew about Colombia/Medellin’s history with Pablo Escobar and understand just how bad it was. And it was interesting in the end how people questioned the cost and aftermath to his death. Amo mi Medallo y mi Paisalandia

It’s hard to read when Tuyo - Rodrigo Amarante is constantly flying around my head.

This book is non-fiction but reads like a fiction due to how extraordinary his story is. What a b*st*rd.

Pablo is one individual I hope to never see in the library of life.

Mark Bowden has a knack for telling an entertaining story. The heroes are the Columbians who persist in hunting Escobar despite great personal risk. Escobar seemingly knew anybody who was hunting him and everybody in their family. A carload of unexploded dynamite parked in front of your house would be a warning most people would heed. The corruption in government and law enforcement in Columbia is staggering, but considering the threats some officials and their families faced, who wouldn't make a phone call to apprise Escobar of a raid, or turn a blind eye to the drug trafficking? A moral dilemma few of us would experience.

Oceniając tę pozycję chciałabym zwrócić uwagę na dwie odrębne kwestie: po pierwsze na samą treść, a po drugie na jej polskie wydanie.
Ogólnie książka zawiera dużą ilość informacji dotyczących ostatnich lat życia Pabla Escobara i dla kogoś, kto nie miał wcześniej styczności z Kolumbią może być dobrym punktem wyjścia do zrozumienia o co chodziło w „polowaniu” na Escobara. Należy jednak pamiętać, że jest ona pisana z perspektywy Amerykanina i miejscami aż boli protekcjonalne podejście autora do kraju i ludzi, o których pisze. Chociaż stara się on zachować obiektywizm w opisie udziału sił Stanów w pościgu za Escobarem, to zdania typu „Kolumbia zawsze była trudna do rządzenia”, albo „jedynym przejawem cywilizacji była religia chrześcijańska” są uwłaczające i świadczą o ignorancji Bowdena jeżeli chodzi o historię oraz panujące tam od połowy XIX w. stosunki polityczne.
W Polsce książka Bowdena ukazała się nakładem Wydawnictwa Poznańskiego, które popisało się wyjątkową niestarannością w jej przygotowaniu. Zadziwiające są na przykład decyzje tłumaczki, która czasami odmienia, a czasami nie odmienia niektórych słów, w tym imion i nazwisk, albo brakuje jej konsekwencji w trzymaniu się zasad odmiany. Za przykład niech posłużą Barco (które można swobodnie odmienić jak Matejko), Gacha (przy którym pojawia się dziwaczna odmiana Gachym) i wiele innych. Nie odmienia też słów finca, lub sicario… Stosuje się tam wolne tłumaczenie nazw własnych i terminów, które w języku polskim mają już swoje ogólnie przyjęte tłumaczenie, np. teologia wyzwolenia (a nie wyzwoleńcza), albo Armia Wyzwolenia Narodowego (nie Narodowa Armia Wyzwoleńcza). Takie rzeczy wystarczy wpisać w Google. Ze słów hiszpańskich znikają akcenty, albo pojawiają się one w miejscach, w których być nie powinny. Nie rozumiem też, dlaczego nie zmienione zostały jednostki miar. Czytelnikowi w Polsce nic nie mówi to, że Juan Pablo ważył ponad 200 funtów. I moje ulubione – ciągłe użycie słowa „dżungla” w odniesieniu do lasów Kolumbii. Ja wiem, ze geografia pewnie była dawno temu w szkole, ale potoczne użycie tego słowa jako synonimu wszystkich wilgotnych lasów strefy równikowej jest po prostu słabe. Przez cały czas widoczne jest niechlujne podejście zarówno tłumaczki, jak i redaktorów tekstu, którzy przeoczyli też takie sprawy, jak literówki.

In the 1980s, the biggest industry in Colombia, a nation of then 30 million people, was cocaine manufacture and smuggling, accounting for 6% of the country's GDP. It was controlled by two cartels, one based in Medellín, the other in Cali. The head of the Medellín cartel was one Pablo Escobar, a professional criminal who assassinated his way to the top of an existing production and distribution network, and grew the business. Listed by Forbes Magazine as the seventh richest man in the world, Escobar lived in opulence: his country estate had a private zoo with hippos; he organized races of naked beauty queens for his friends to watch. However, this was not enough for him: he wanted to enter politics. Offering "silver or lead" to Colombians who stood in his way, Escobar assassinated presidential candidates, judges, journalists, policemen and soldiers, kidnapped children of politicians. Escobar also went out of his way to cultivate his image of a man of the people among Colombia's poor, although he was nothing of the sort: he was a drug baron who once had a dishonest servant drowned in front of his guests to drive home the point that this is what happens to people who cross him. After he blew up an airliner that a presidential candidate was supposed to fly in, the United States has had enough, and brought pressure on Colombia to extradite Escobar so he could be tried on drug and terrorism charges in a court he did not own. After a campaign of terror to fight the extradition, Escobar and the government agreed to a deal: he would not be extradited, but instead would serve five years in a prison he himself built. The prison was more like a luxury hotel with a telephone switchboard from which he ran his cocaine empire. After Escobar ordered two subordinates murdered, the government felt that he had broken his part of the deal, and sent a vice minister of justice to tell him that he would be transferred to a regular prison. The vice minister was taken hostage; the prison was stormed, and Escobar walked out: what soldier would risk his life by pointing his gun at the most powerful man in his country? After Escobar's escape, the government no longer felt bound by any deal; it brought in elite American soldiers and eavesdroppers; also, somebody whose identity is not revealed organized a regular Latin American death squad, which murdered, tortured and dispossessed not Marxist guerrillas and Liberation Theology priests, but Escobar's relatives and associates; the death squad seems to have made use of the American surveillance data. A year and a half after the escape, a young lieutenant, a son of the colonel who headed the task force for tracking down Escobar, honed in on the emissions of Escobar's cell phone, and saw him in a window of a house in Medellín. The lieutenant called in his father's forces, and Escobar was killed in a firefight, which ended a mission that cost hundreds of lives and hundreds of millions of dollars.