On June 8, Colombia woke up to the grim news that Miguel Uribe Turbay, a 39-year-old senator and presidential hopeful for the right-wing Centro Democrático party, had been gravely wounded after being shot twice—once in the leg and once in the head. More than three weeks have passed since the attack and Uribe remains in critical condition, fighting for his life, while Colombians, concerned about renewed democratic instability, have found themselves haunted by ghosts from the past.
For those of us who lived through the darkest days of Pablo Escobar’s war against the Colombian government and society in the early 1990s, this attack brings back painful memories. Back then, political violence, mainly targeting left-wing presidential candidates and party leaders, was commonplace. The trauma from that era is still raw for many Colombians.
But Colombia has changed. Today’s violence is no longer solely linked to powerful drug cartels trying to bend the nation to their will. Instead, it stems from more than 10 illegal armed groups—both urban and rural—that have splintered into local factions controlling various parts of the country’s illicit industries: cocaine production, illegal mining, human trafficking, and extortion, among others.
As part of the “Total Peace” strategy, President Gustavo Petro’s government has opened negotiations with some of these groups. As result, there have been some improvements at the local level—fewer murders, forced displacements, and disappearances in certain regions—but these gains are fragile. Moreover, the talks thus far have yet to yield any meaningful steps toward disarmament and reintegration of those groups into civilian life. Ongoing turf wars between rival factions over territory and illegal markets keep undermining the peace efforts. And time is running out—Petro’s term ends on August 7, 2026.
Meanwhile, the government’s security strategy seems ill-equipped to deal with this new, more fragmented kind of violence. The response has been slow, disjointed, and lacking in intelligence and operational capacity.
Presidential and congressional campaigns for the upcoming elections, scheduled for 2026, are already underway in a highly polarized climate. Accusations and insults fly daily between political rivals.
The healthy alternation of power among the left, center, and right—the hallmark of a functioning democracy—is still new in Colombia, the arrival of Petro’s leftist administration representing the first instance. While the population increasingly rejects privilege-based politics, the country’s traditional elites have been slow to accept the deep, structural change the electorate is demanding.
It is in this volatile context that the attack on Miguel Uribe took place. The young conservative politician represents a hardline faction of the right that still holds considerable influence in Colombia. The shooting raises unsettling questions for Colombians. Who benefits from destabilizing the country? Who stands to gain from weakening the first leftist government as it nears the end of its term?
So far, investigators are pursuing two main lines of inquiry: one, the attack was carried out by a criminal organization with access to significant resources and planning capabilities; and two, given Uribe’s profile, the motive was political. While his family and friends hope for a miracle, the country demands answers and justice—once again. With national elections approaching, Colombians are hoping that fear and anger won’t be the ones casting the deciding votes.
_________
PHOTO: A man participates in a performance staged in Tunja during the national strike and demonstrations that took place in Colombia in November 2019 to protest proposed tax reforms and the perceived failure of the government to implement the 2016 peace accord and address inequality and other social issues. (Maria Margarita Rivera/ICTJ)
