The Story
Colombia is staring down a political precipice. In three weeks, voters will choose between two radically different futures: one that continues the path of negotiated peace with armed groups, and another that promises to crush them with military force. The first-round results on May 29 were a shock to the system—pollsters had predicted a comfortable lead for leftist candidate Ivan Sepa, but instead he barely edged out far-right millionaire lawyer Abelardo de la Espriella, who surged from 20% in polls to 43% of the vote. Now, with neither candidate securing an outright majority, the June 21 runoff has become a high-stakes referendum on security, the economy, and the very soul of a nation still scarred by five decades of civil war.
This isn't just another election. The campaign was overshadowed by a wave of violence—car bombings, drone attacks, and the assassination of a leading presidential contender—that has transformed the race into a stark choice between dialogue and iron-fisted repression. The outcome will not only determine Colombia's domestic trajectory but also send ripples across Latin America, where the region is already polarized between left-leaning governments and a rising tide of right-wing populism. To understand why this matters, you need to know that Colombia is the United States' strongest military partner in South America, and its next president will have to navigate intense pressure from Washington while grappling with a conflict that has recycled itself into new forms of criminal violence.
Context & Background
Colombia's modern history is a story of a nation held hostage by its own geography and resources. For 50 years, the country was locked in a civil war between the state, leftist guerrillas like the FARC, and right-wing paramilitaries—a conflict that killed over 200,000 people and displaced millions. The 2016 peace agreement with the FARC was supposed to be the turning point. It demobilized the largest rebel group, but it also left a power vacuum that criminal organizations—many of them former paramilitaries turned drug traffickers—were quick to fill. These groups now control vast swaths of territory, from cocaine-producing regions to illegal mining areas, and they recruit from the same pool of impoverished, disenfranchised youth that once joined the guerrillas.
The peace deal was the signature achievement of outgoing President Gustavo Petro, Colombia's first leftist leader. Petro's approach was to negotiate with armed groups, offering them incentives to disarm while expanding social programs to address the root causes of conflict: poverty, inequality, and lack of opportunity. But his term has been plagued by rising violence, especially in rural areas, and a stalled economy that has left many Colombians feeling that peace has not delivered the dividends they were promised. The result is a deep public frustration that has fueled the rise of de la Espriella, who offers a simple, brutal alternative: lock up or eliminate the criminals, and restore order through force.
The economic context is critical. Colombia is one of the most unequal countries in Latin America—already the most unequal region in the world. The pandemic exacerbated these disparities, pushing millions into poverty and exposing the fragility of a economy heavily dependent on oil and coal exports. Meanwhile, inflation and unemployment remain high, and the government's fiscal space is limited. This creates a volatile mix: a population that is both desperate for security and hungry for economic opportunity, but deeply skeptical that either candidate can deliver both.
Different Perspectives
The two candidates frame the election in diametrically opposed terms. Ivan Sepa, a former senator and lifelong peace activist, argues that negotiation is the only viable path to lasting peace. He points to the 2016 agreement as proof that dialogue can work, even with the most intransigent groups. "We have to understand that violence is not just a security problem—it's a social problem," Sepa said during the campaign. "You cannot bomb your way to peace." His platform includes continuing the Petro government's social programs, investing in education and infrastructure in conflict zones, and pursuing talks with the National Liberation Army (ELN) and other armed groups. He also promises to address the root causes of recruitment, especially among young people who join criminal groups because they have no other options.
Abelardo de la Espriella doesn't mince words. "The only peace process I believe in is one imposed by the force of arms and the laws of the republic," he told the Associated Press. He draws inspiration from El Salvador's President Nayib Bukele, who has waged a highly popular but controversial war on gangs that has led to mass arrests and thousands of deaths in custody. De la Espriella promises to build mega-prisons, increase penalties for crimes, and deploy the military to retake territories controlled by armed groups. His rhetoric resonates with Colombians who feel that the state has been weak and that criminals operate with impunity. "Under my government, any bandit who resists will be eliminated as appropriate," he said. "And if he submits, we will imprison him in a mega prison so he can pay his debt to justice."
The international community is watching closely. The United States, which has deep security ties with Colombia, has pushed for a hard line against drug trafficking and organized crime. Washington has already increased pressure on Cuba and Venezuela, and has conducted strikes on drug boats. De la Espriella's alignment with this approach could strengthen bilateral cooperation, while Sepa's more conciliatory stance might create friction. However, as Elizabeth Dickinson of the International Crisis Group points out, Colombia's military is already operating at full capacity. "There simply isn't a lot of capacity to ratchet up operations," she says. "There's no more flying hours. There's no more helicopters. There's no more soldiers to send out into the field." This suggests that de la Espriella's promises may crash into the hard reality of limited resources.
What's Not Being Said
The most underreported angle in this election is the extent to which Colombia's conflict has become a business. Illegal armed groups are not just ideological rebels—they are sophisticated criminal enterprises that control lucrative markets in cocaine, gold, and timber. The peace agreement with the FARC created a vacuum that these groups have exploited, and they now operate with a level of organization that rivals the state. This means that any solution—whether negotiation or military force—must address the economic incentives that drive the conflict. What's not being said is that both candidates' plans are incomplete. Sepa's focus on social programs may not be enough to break the grip of these groups, who offer young people a path to status and income that the legal economy cannot. De la Espriella's military crackdown, on the other hand, risks alienating communities and driving violence underground, potentially creating more instability in the long run.
Another overlooked factor is the role of the media in shaping the narrative. The campaign has been dominated by sensational coverage of violence, which has played into de la Espriella's hands by amplifying fear. But the media has done a poor job of covering the economic dimensions of the conflict—the fact that many Colombians in rural areas live in extreme poverty, with no access to education, health care, or jobs. This is the soil in which violence grows, and it is not being addressed in the election discourse. The International Crisis Group's work on child recruitment is a stark example: many children join armed groups because they don't have enough to eat at home. That's a story that rarely makes the headlines.
Finally, the influence of external actors is often simplified. While the US is a major player, other countries like China and Russia have economic interests in Colombia, and Venezuela's crisis has spillover effects. The election outcome will also affect regional dynamics, particularly the balance between left-leaning governments in Brazil, Chile, and Mexico, and the right-wing populism of El Salvador and Argentina. This geopolitical dimension is crucial but rarely discussed in the context of a single election.
What Happens Next
The next three weeks will be a scramble for alliances. De la Espriella has already secured the support of Paloma Valencia, a conservative candidate who came in third, giving him a significant boost. Sepa, meanwhile, will need to court centrist voters and those who didn't vote in the first round—a large and unpredictable bloc. The key question is whether Sepa can expand his base beyond the left, or whether the fear of violence will drive moderate voters to de la Espriella.
If de la Espriella wins, expect a swift and dramatic shift in security policy. He will likely declare a state of emergency, deploy the military to urban and rural hotspots, and begin construction of mega-prisons. This could lead to a short-term reduction in violence, but it also risks human rights abuses and a backlash from communities that are caught in the crossfire. The US will likely support this approach, but it may also pressure Colombia to avoid the worst excesses of El Salvador's gang war.
If Sepa wins, he will face an uphill battle. He will need to restart negotiations with the ELN and other groups, but his political capital will be limited if the election is close. He will also have to contend with a Congress that may be controlled by the right, making it difficult to pass social spending bills. The most likely scenario is a continuation of the status quo, with sporadic violence and slow progress on peace.
Either way, the fundamental drivers of Colombia's conflict—poverty, inequality, and weak state presence—will remain. The next president will need to address these root causes, but the election has been framed as a binary choice between war and peace, which is a dangerous oversimplification. The reality is that Colombia needs both military pressure and social investment, and the hard work of finding the right balance will fall to whoever takes office in August.
For Content Creators
For YouTube creators covering this election, the challenge is to avoid the trap of false equivalency. The two candidates represent genuinely different approaches, but the media narrative often reduces the choice to "peace vs. war" without examining the nuances. Creators should dig into the historical context—the 2016 peace agreement, the rise of criminal groups, and the economic inequality that fuels the conflict. They should also interview local voices, not just analysts, to understand how Colombians on the ground experience the violence and what they expect from their next leader.
Another responsible angle is to compare Colombia's situation with other countries that have faced similar choices, such as El Salvador or Mexico. This provides viewers with a framework for understanding the trade-offs between security and human rights. Finally, creators should be transparent about their sources and avoid amplifying unverified claims from either side. The election is already volatile enough; responsible coverage can help viewers make sense of the stakes without adding to the noise.
