We have to win. Otherwise, everything we're talking about will be completely suspended for four years.
On the Caribbean coast and across Colombia's highlands, a nation prepares to vote on something larger than a presidency — the question of whether a developing country can hold its ground as a climate leader when geopolitical winds blow hard toward extraction. The Petro government has spent four years repositioning Colombia as a voice for fossil fuel phase-outs on the world stage, protecting Amazonian territory and elevating environmental defenders to positions of global influence. Now, with the constitution barring Petro from running again, that legacy faces a direct challenge from candidates who see oil fields and fracking not as liabilities but as economic lifelines. What Colombia decides on May 31st will echo far beyond its borders, in the corridors of climate diplomacy and in the territories where activists are still killed for saying no.
- Former environment minister Susana Muhamad warns a packed courtyard that losing the first round means four years of suspended climate progress and Colombia joining the regional drift toward Trump-aligned extractivism.
- Right-wing candidates Abelardo de la Espriella and Paloma Valencia are campaigning openly to reopen oil fields and pursue fracking, framing extraction as economic necessity rather than ecological risk.
- Colombia's environmental defenders operate under mortal threat — a nineteen-year-old activist leading a pan-Latin American youth movement has received death threats simply for opposing oil palm plantations in his home region.
- Polls indicate Pacto Historico's Iván Cepeda will lead the first round but likely fall short of fifty percent, making a runoff probable and the right-wing candidates statistical favorites to win it.
- Global climate advocates warn that a Colombian reversal would not stay contained — it risks inspiring similar rollbacks across Latin America and weakening the international coalition pushing for a genuine fossil fuel phase-out.
On a warm Caribbean night, a courtyard fills past capacity to hear Susana Muhamad speak. She was Colombia's environment minister. She shaped global conversations about what a developing nation can choose when it places the future above extraction. In ten days, Colombia votes — and while the election is not officially framed as a climate referendum, everyone present understands what is at stake.
President Gustavo Petro cannot seek a consecutive term, so his Pacto Historico party has nominated Iván Cepeda to carry forward four years of environmental policy that repositioned Colombia on the world stage. The opposition offers a sharply different path. Abelardo de la Espriella on the far right and Paloma Valencia at the center-right both want to reopen oil fields and pursue fracking, viewing extractivism as economic common sense. Muhamad's warning to the crowd is unambiguous: without a first-round victory, Colombia risks becoming another Latin American country aligned with Donald Trump's political orbit, and everything built over the past four years risks suspension.
The Petro government's record is substantial. Colombia declared its portion of the Amazon a fossil-fuel-free zone, curtailed mining operations, and sent its leaders to the front lines of global climate diplomacy. Vice President Francia Márquez won the Goldman Environmental Prize. Environment Minister Irene Vélez Torres co-chaired the world's first conference dedicated to phasing out fossil fuels. These were not symbolic gestures — they moved the question of fossil fuel phase-out from the margins of international diplomacy toward its center.
But the movement is grounded in something more visceral than policy. Colombia remains one of the world's deadliest countries for environmental defenders. Juan David Amaya, nineteen years old and founder of a pan-Latin American youth organization, has received death threats for opposing oil palm plantations in his region. He describes the stakes simply: in Europe, activism does not get you killed. Here, environmental work is an act of rebellion born from love — and it carries a very high cost. This is what popular environmentalism means in Colombia: it rises from peasants and fishermen who have lived alongside extractivism and illegal militias for generations, and who understand that defending territory is fundamentally a struggle over power.
Polls suggest Cepeda will lead the first round but fall short of the fifty percent needed to avoid a runoff — at which point either right-wing opponent becomes the statistical favorite. Critics on the left acknowledge the Petro government's limitations: deforestation continues, illegal mining persists, armed groups still hold vast territories. But the choice before voters on May 31st is not between imperfect stewardship and something better. It is between two fundamentally different answers to the question of what Colombia is for.
The courtyard fills past capacity on a warm Caribbean night. Plastic chairs cluster between a mango tree and a wall painted with words that have become a rallying cry: "Colombia, respira"—Breathe, Colombia. People stand along the edges because the speaker drawing them here is Susana Muhamad, a figure whose voice carries weight far beyond this neighborhood. She was Colombia's environment minister. She has stood at the podium of global climate conferences. She has shaped how the world thinks about what a developing nation can do when it chooses the future over extraction.
In ten days, Colombia votes. The election is not framed as a climate referendum, but everyone in this courtyard understands what it is. President Gustavo Petro cannot run again—the constitution forbids consecutive terms—so his party, Pacto Historico, has nominated Iván Cepeda to carry forward four years of environmental policy that has shifted Colombia's place in the world. The opposition offers a different vision entirely. Abelardo de la Espriella on the far right and Paloma Valencia at the center-right both want to reopen oil fields and pursue fracking. Both see extractivism as economic necessity. Both represent a return to the model that has governed Colombia for decades.
Muhamad's message to the crowd is stark. "We must win in the first round," she tells them, "because the future of Colombia will be decided here, in this very complicated international context. If we don't win, our country will be another in Latin America aligned with Donald Trump. We have to win. Otherwise, everything we're talking about will be completely suspended for four years." She speaks of what the Petro government has accomplished: declaring Colombia's portion of the Amazon a fossil-fuel-free zone, curtailing mining operations, protecting communities from pollution. She points to what happens when the other path is chosen. In Bolivia, a pro-business government has sold mining rights to the Junín River basin. In Ecuador, the far-right president Daniel Noboa is weakening Indigenous land protections and has invited a U.S. military base to the Galápagos Islands.
Colombia's environmental leadership has become consequential in ways that extend far beyond its borders. Muhamad was a leading voice at the Cop29 climate conference in Dubai, pushing for a genuine transition away from fossil fuels. She presided over Cop16 in Cali, the biodiversity conference. Vice President Francia Márquez won the Goldman environmental prize for stopping illegal gold mining in her ancestral community of La Toma. Environment Minister Irene Vélez Torres just co-chaired the world's first conference dedicated to phasing out fossil fuels—an alliance of countries moving faster than the UN consensus system allows, faster than the vetoes of oil-producing nations permit. At that conference in Santa Marta, Petro called on Colombia to show the world how to mobilize a population against what he termed the "suicidal" economics and "fascistic" politics of the fossil fuel industry.
This leadership has moved the question of phasing out oil, gas, and coal from the margins into the center of global diplomacy. Tzeporah Berman, founder of the Fossil Fuel Treaty Initiative, says the implications of this election reach far beyond Colombia. "At a moment of escalating climate disasters and geopolitical instability, the world is watching whether this leadership continues, or whether political pressure from the fossil fuel industry succeeds in pushing countries backward."
But the movement is rooted in something deeper than government policy. Colombia is one of the world's deadliest countries for environmental defenders. Juan David Amaya, nineteen years old and founder of the pan-Latin American youth organization Life of Pachamama, has received death threats for campaigning against oil palm plantations in his region. He describes the difference between activism in Colombia and Europe plainly: "There, they don't kill you." In Colombia, he says, environmental work "is an act of rebellion born from hope, born from love. But it also comes at a very high cost." This is what "popular environmentalism" means in practice—it comes from peasants and fishermen who have endured extractivism for generations, often alongside illegal militias, and who understand that fighting for territory and environment is fundamentally about power.
The election remains uncertain. Polls suggest Cepeda will lead in the first round but fall short of the fifty percent needed to avoid a runoff. If that happens, either of his right-wing opponents becomes the favorite. A victory for Valencia or de la Espriella would mean a return to the extractivist model, according to Renzo García, a biologist and congressman. It would mean handing the country to the economic interests of global elites, serving as what he calls a "pantry for minerals, oil and agribusiness without taking into account the rights of nature." Some on the left have criticized the Petro government for not moving fast enough—deforestation continues, illegal mining persists, armed groups still control vast territories. But the choice before voters on May 31st is not between perfect environmental stewardship and something better. It is between two fundamentally different visions of what Colombia is for.
Citas Notables
In Colombia, doing this is an act of rebellion born from hope, born from love. But it also comes at a very high cost.— Juan David Amaya, 19-year-old climate activist and founder of Life of Pachamama
The world is watching whether this leadership continues, or whether political pressure from the fossil fuel industry succeeds in pushing countries backward.— Tzeporah Berman, founder of the Fossil Fuel Treaty Initiative
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does a Colombian election matter to people watching from outside the country?
Because Colombia has positioned itself as proof that a developing nation can choose climate leadership over extraction. If that choice reverses, it signals to other countries that the pressure to exploit resources is too strong to resist.
What makes Susana Muhamad's voice so powerful in this moment?
She's not a politician making promises. She's an environmental minister who actually shaped policy, who stood at global conferences and moved the conversation. When she says the stakes are existential, people believe her because she's lived inside the machinery.
The source mentions that some on the left support oil extraction. How does that complicate the narrative?
It shows this isn't a simple left-versus-right story. There are people across the political spectrum who see fossil fuels as necessary for economic survival. The real divide is between those who think extraction is inevitable and those who think it's a choice.
What does "popular environmentalism" actually mean in practice?
It means the movement isn't led by NGOs or government ministries. It's led by peasants and fishermen who have lived under extractivism their whole lives and are saying: we've paid the price long enough. That's why activists get death threats. They're threatening real economic interests.
If the right wins the runoff, what happens to Colombia's international climate commitments?
They could be abandoned or weakened significantly. Colombia helped form a global coalition of countries committed to phasing out fossil fuels. A new government could simply walk away from that, and it would send a message to other countries that these commitments aren't binding.
Is there any scenario where both sides could compromise on the energy transition?
Some center-right figures have suggested using natural gas as a bridge fuel while transitioning. But that's a setback from the current trajectory, and it would likely mean Colombia weakens its position in the global climate coalition it helped create.