The discrepancy mattered. It suggested either incompetence or deliberate underreporting.
In the halls of Colombia's presidential palace, a four-hour dialogue between President Iván Duque and the National Strike Committee ended without agreement, leaving twelve days of protest, at least twenty-seven official deaths, and a nation's grief unresolved. What began as resistance to pandemic-era tax increases had grown into a deeper confrontation with state violence itself — a reckoning that no single meeting could contain. With a new nationwide strike called for May 12th, Colombia finds itself at a familiar and painful crossroads: between a government offering dialogue and a people demanding transformation.
- Twelve days of protests have left at least 27 dead officially — and possibly 47 according to human rights groups — with nearly four in five of those deaths attributed to police action.
- A four-hour meeting between protest leaders and President Duque collapsed without a single agreement, with labor leader Francisco Maltés describing the president as 'complacent with police abuses.'
- The movement has already forced one major concession — the withdrawal of a controversial tax reform — but the police crackdowns that followed have transformed economic grievance into a demand for state accountability.
- Five officers have been sanctioned and two arrested in connection with a protester's death, but the gesture landed too late and too small to restore trust with a movement backed by the UN, EU, and major human rights organizations.
- Student leader Jennifer Pedraza announced a new nationwide strike for May 12th, signaling that the streets — not the palace — will determine what comes next.
The meeting lasted nearly four hours, but the National Strike Committee left Colombia's presidential palace with nothing. No agreement on ending police violence. No guarantee of the right to peaceful assembly. By evening, student leader Jennifer Pedraza was announcing another nationwide strike for May 12th.
What began on April 28th as a protest against Duque's proposed pandemic-era tax increases had become something far larger. The government withdrew the proposal within days under public pressure — but the police response had already changed the nature of the movement. Crackdowns continued. Anger deepened. A protest about fiscal policy became a reckoning with state violence.
The official death toll stood at twenty-seven. Human rights organizations Temblores and Indepaz documented forty-seven deaths, thirty-nine attributed directly to police action. The gap between those numbers fed a central conviction among protesters: the government was not counting their losses honestly.
Inside the palace, the committee pressed for constitutional protections for demonstrators and an end to excessive force. Labor leader Francisco Maltés described Duque's posture as complacent. The president offered dialogue, but not the fundamental shift the movement demanded.
The weight of this moment was particular. Poverty had reached 42.5 percent of Colombia's fifty million people. Rural violence had resurged despite the 2016 FARC peace agreement. The pandemic had hollowed out livelihoods. Police announced sanctions against five officers — including the arrest of two linked to a nineteen-year-old's death in Ibagué — but the gesture felt too small, too late. The UN, EU, and United States had already condemned the conduct.
By calling for May 12th, the Strike Committee made clear: the movement would not negotiate itself into submission. The streets would speak again — and after twelve days of violence and no resolution, the question was no longer whether the protests would continue, but how far they would go.
The meeting lasted nearly four hours. On Monday, representatives from Colombia's National Strike Committee sat across from President Iván Duque in the presidential palace, hoping to find a way out of a crisis that had already consumed twelve days of roadblocks, shutdowns, and bloodshed. They left with nothing. No agreement. No commitment to stop the police violence that had defined the protests. No guarantee that the right to peaceful assembly would be protected. By evening, the committee's student leader Jennifer Pedraza was announcing another nationwide strike for May 12th.
What began on April 28th as a straightforward economic protest had transformed into something far darker. Duque had proposed tax increases to offset pandemic losses—a technocratic response to a country hemorrhaging jobs and income. The streets filled with tens of thousands of people. The pressure worked. Within days, the government withdrew the proposal. But by then, the police response had already poisoned everything. The crackdowns continued. The anger metastasized. What had been a protest against fiscal policy became a reckoning with state violence itself.
The official count was twenty-seven dead. Hundreds more were injured. But human rights organizations—Temblores and Indepaz among them—documented forty-seven deaths, thirty-nine of them attributed directly to police action. The discrepancy mattered. It suggested either incompetence or deliberate underreporting. Either way, it fed the protesters' conviction that the government was not counting their losses honestly.
Inside the presidential palace, the committee pressed for the obvious: respect for constitutional rights to peaceful protest, guarantees of safety for demonstrators, an end to what they called excessive force. Francisco Maltés, a labor leader, later described the president's response as "complacent with police abuses." Duque offered negotiation but not accountability. He offered dialogue but not the fundamental shift in approach the movement demanded. The committee walked out convinced that nothing had changed.
Colombia was not new to this cycle. The country had convulsed in 2019 and 2020 with similar upheavals. But this moment carried particular weight. Poverty had reached 42.5 percent of the nation's fifty million people. Rural violence had resurged despite the 2016 peace agreement with the FARC. Cities felt increasingly militarized. The pandemic had hollowed out livelihoods. And now, when people took to the streets to say so, they were met with force.
On Monday, the police announced they would sanction five officers, including the arrest of two implicated in the death of a nineteen-year-old protester in Ibagué on May 1st. It was a gesture toward accountability, but it came too late and felt too small. The international community—the United Nations, the European Union, the United States, major human rights organizations—had already condemned the police conduct. The damage to trust was done.
By calling for May 12th, the National Strike Committee was signaling that the conversation with Duque had failed. The movement would not negotiate itself into submission. It would not accept symbolic gestures in place of real change. The streets would speak again. And this time, after twelve days of violence and no resolution, the question was not whether the protests would continue, but how far they would go.
Citas Notables
The president's discourse was complacent with excessive use of force by police, despite our request that constitutional rights to peaceful protest be respected.— Jennifer Pedraza, student leader of the National Strike Committee
We have demanded an end to the massacre, an end to official and private violence against people exercising their legitimate right to protest.— Francisco Maltés, labor leader
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did the meeting fail? Duque showed up, they talked for hours—what was the actual breaking point?
It wasn't a single moment. The committee came asking for two things: an end to police violence and a guarantee that people could protest safely. Duque offered to negotiate, but he didn't offer to stop the police. He was complacent about the force being used. That's not negotiation—that's asking people to accept the violence as the price of being heard.
So the government's position was essentially: we'll talk, but the crackdowns continue?
Exactly. And after twelve days of bodies piling up, after forty-seven people dead according to independent monitors, that's not a serious offer. The committee left because they realized Duque wasn't going to move on the core issue.
The official death count is twenty-seven, but groups like Temblores say forty-seven. Why the gap?
The government counts what it acknowledges. Independent monitors count what actually happened. Thirty-nine of those forty-seven deaths were attributed to police. That's not a rounding error—that's a fundamental disagreement about what the state did.
What does calling another strike accomplish at this point? They've already shown they can shut down the country.
It's a refusal to accept the outcome of the meeting. It says: we tried your dialogue, it didn't work, and we're not going away. It's also a test of whether the movement can sustain itself. Twelve days in, people are tired. Some are scared. Calling for May 12th is asking: are you still with us?
What does Duque actually need to do to make this stop?
According to the committee? Stop the police violence, guarantee protest rights, and address the underlying crisis—the poverty, the rural violence, the pandemic's economic damage. He can't negotiate away those structural problems. He can only commit to not crushing people for naming them.