In a development that has British investors reaching for something stronger than a bog-standard G&T, Colombia has elected a Trump-backed outsider to its highest office. The man, a populist firebrand whose campaign slogan might as well have been “Make Colombia Grate Again,” has stormed to victory on a platform of tearing up trade deals and blaming everything on the ghost of Pablo Escobar. The election, which took place amidst scenes of glorious chaos worthy of a Gabriel García Márquez fever dream, saw the outsider triumph over the entire political establishment. His victory speech was a masterpiece of mixed metaphors and barely veiled threats, delivered in a suit that looked suspiciously like it had been bought at a discount in Miami.
For British investors, the news is about as welcome as a puncture wound in a longboat race. The new president has spoken of imposing tariffs on Colombian exports, renegotiating the terms of foreign investment, and generally making life as difficult as possible for anyone who wears a suit and speaks English with a posh accent. “We are going to take back our country from the international oligarchs,” he bellowed at his first press conference, though he failed to specify whether he included the British firms that have been extracting Colombian oil for the last three decades.
The FTSE 100 index, which had been enjoying a gentle morning drift, took a sharp dive as the results became clear. Shares in companies with significant Colombian exposure, such as BHP and Rio Tinto, plummeted faster than a toucan shot out of the sky. One fund manager, speaking on condition of anonymity because his wife didn't know he still worked for HM Treasury, was overheard muttering about “political risk assessments” and “the utter lunacy of the electorate.” He then poured his coffee into a pot plant and walked out of the office.
Meanwhile, in Bogotá, scenes of jubilation were tempered by confusion. The newly elected president had campaigned on a promise to “drain the swamp,” but nobody could agree whether the swamp was the Congress, the cartels, or the judiciary. His chief policy advisor, a man who had previously worked as a fortune teller in a shopping mall, outlined a trade policy that seemed to involve banning all imports of anything that wasn’t grown in the president’s cousin’s garden.
For the British government, the situation is a diplomatic minefield. A Foreign Office spokesperson, looking ashen-faced, announced that the UK would “engage constructively with the new administration” while “protecting British interests.” Translated from civil servant-speak, this means: “We have absolutely no idea what to do, but we’re going to send a lot of strongly worded memos and hope for the best.”
In the City, whispers of a “Colombian crisis” are growing. Some analysts are urging investors to pull out entirely, while others see opportunity amidst the chaos. “When everyone else is panicking, that’s when we buy,” said one hedge fund manager, who then admitted he’d already liquidated his Colombian holdings and was moving into gold and canned beans.
And what of the British expats living in Colombia? They’re reportedly stocking up on gin and tonic, preparing for a new era of uncertainty. “I voted for him,” said an English woman sipping a G&T on her balcony in Cartagena. “He said he’d bring back the death penalty for journalists. I thought that was a bit strong, but he seemed so confident.”
So, as the sun sets on yet another democratic triumph of pure, unadulterated madness, we raise a glass to the new president of Colombia. May his reign be long, unpredictable, and full of material for satirical columnists. And to British investors, we offer this sage advice: switch to rum. It’s cheaper, and it goes better with the tears of uncertainty.
