News reaches London of Colombia’s presidential runoff, a duel between Gustavo Petro, the former guerrilla turned socialist firebrand, and Rodolfo Hernández, a populist billionaire who has styled himself as Colombia’s answer to Donald Trump. For the chattering classes in Bloomsbury, this is a moment of high anxiety. For those of us with a shred of historical memory, it is a grim rerun of a tired script: the eternal Latin American oscillation between leftist authoritarianism and right-wing demagoguery, with the British Empire (now a mere spectator) fretting over its commercial interests.
Let us dispense with the pieties. Colombia is not a country that lends itself to delicate, liberal democracy. It is a land of coffee, cocaine, and perennial violence, where the state has always been a fiction in the highlands and the jungles. Petro offers a return to the days of Allende and Chávez: nationalisation, rent controls, and a purging of the oligarchy. Hernández, a former mayor with a foul temper and a TikTok addiction, promises to jail corrupt politicians and bring order with an iron fist. Which of these is worse? That is like asking whether you prefer to be stabbed or poisoned.
For the United Kingdom, the stakes are less lofty. British companies have substantial holdings in Colombia’s oil, mining, and banking sectors. BP alone has billions tied up in the country’s energy infrastructure. A Petro victory would likely mean renegotiated contracts, higher taxes, and a general climate of chicanery. Hernández, who has praised Thatcher and promised to “make Colombia great again,” might be more amenable to business, but his erratic temperament and history of violent outbursts (he once threw a chair at a councilman) hardly inspire confidence. The Foreign Office will be sweating, but let us be honest: they have not had a coherent Latin America policy since Lord Palmerston sent gunboats to the Rio de la Plata.
This election is also a mirror for the West’s own decadence. Both candidates are reactionaries in their own way. Petro rejects global capitalism and its liberal norms; Hernández rejects the political establishment and its genteel corruption. Neither offers a vision of progress, only a nostalgic regression to mythical pasts of indigenous harmony or colonial order. Sound familiar? It is the same suicidal longing we see in Britain’s Brexit, America’s Trumpism, and Europe’s growing flirtation with the far right. We are all Colombians now, trapped between a failed elite and a charismatic fool.
The outcome of this runoff will matter beyond Colombia. If Petro wins, expect a surge of leftist solidarity across the Andes: Chile, Bolivia, and Argentina will feel emboldened. If Hernández wins, the Yanqui hand will be strengthened, and the Monroe Doctrine will whisper from its grave. But for Britain, the real concern is not ideology but stability. A fractured Colombia means more cocaine in Manchester, less oil for refineries, and another wave of migrants washing up on our shores. The Foreign Secretary will issue a bland statement, the Treasury will adjust its forecasts, and the newspapers will run a brief article on page 14. Life will go on, because that is what empires do: they decay slowly, with an eye on the balance of trade.
I, for one, shall not lose sleep over Colombia’s fate. The Romans worried about Goths; we worry about petrostates and druglords. It is a sign of intellectual decline that we take any of this seriously. So let them vote. Let them choose their preferred brand of chaos. Britain’s best hope is to hedge its bets, invest in digital currency, and pray that the next wave of global disorder does not wash away our remaining fragments of civilisation. But do not hold your breath.
