The votes we expected simply vanished
In the aftermath of Colombia's first presidential round, the arithmetic of defeat has forced a swift realignment: Paloma Valencia, whose campaign collapsed from projected strength to a distant third, has thrown her support behind ultraconservative Abelardo de la Espriella ahead of the June 21 runoff against leftist Iván Cepeda. Her endorsement reflects a familiar pattern in polarized democracies — the vanquished choosing a side not out of affinity, but out of fear of the alternative. Yet even within her own ticket, the choice is contested, reminding us that coalitions built on opposition are rarely as unified as they appear.
- Valencia's campaign imploded on election day, delivering barely half the votes her own party's primary had suggested she could count on — a collapse that stripped her of leverage and left her scrambling for relevance.
- With de la Espriella leading at 10.3 million votes and Cepeda close behind at 9.6 million, the runoff is razor-tight, making every endorsement a potential tipping point in a deeply divided country.
- Valencia moved immediately to back de la Espriella, framing the choice as a civilizational stand against what she called communist governance — but her urgency reads as much like self-preservation as conviction.
- Her running mate Oviedo publicly blamed de la Espriella's camp for a homophobic and machista dirty campaign that he believes cost them votes, making Valencia's endorsement a source of open tension within their own alliance.
- President Petro's refusal to accept the preliminary count without the official tally adds another layer of institutional friction to an already volatile political moment.
The numbers were unforgiving. Paloma Valencia had entered Colombia's presidential race with polling that suggested she might claim 12 percent of the vote, and her party's own primary had delivered 3.2 million supporters. On election day, she received 1.6 million — a collapse that made her the clearest casualty of the first round. Ahead of her stood ultraconservative Abelardo de la Espriella with 10.3 million votes, and just behind, leftist Iván Cepeda with 9.6 million, setting up a June 21 runoff between the two frontrunners.
Valencia did not wait long to respond. She announced her personal endorsement of de la Espriella, casting the choice as a necessary defense against what she described as communist and neo-communist governance under Cepeda and the current Petro administration. In her framing, her own defeat was not a rejection of her politics but a sign of Colombian exhaustion with a government she called corrupt and tolerant of violence. She pledged to fight on — now from third place, as a voice trying to shape a contest she had hoped to lead.
The fractures within her coalition, however, were immediate. Her running mate, economist Juan Daniel Oviedo, offered a starkly different reading of events. He argued that their expected votes had been swept away by a dirty campaign from de la Espriella's side — one he characterized as machista and homophobic. The irony was pointed: Valencia was now backing the man Oviedo held responsible for their defeat. He announced he would delay his own endorsement decision until June 3, saying the matter required serious reflection and that he owed an answer to the people of Bogotá.
In the background, President Petro signaled he would only recognize the official vote count, casting a shadow of institutional uncertainty over a runoff already charged with ideological stakes. The stage is set — though not quite as any of its players had imagined.
The math was brutal. Paloma Valencia, a senator from Colombia's right-wing Centro Democrático party, had entered the presidential race with momentum. Polls suggested she might capture 12 percent of the vote. Her own party's internal primary in March had given her 3.2 million votes. But when Colombians went to the polls, Valencia finished third with just 1.6 million ballots—a collapse so severe that she became the election's clearest casualty among the major candidates.
Ahead of her sat Abelardo de la Espriella, an ultraconservative lawyer from the Defensores de la Patria movement, who led the first round with 10.3 million votes. Behind her, the leftist Iván Cepeda of the ruling Pacto Histórico coalition secured 9.6 million, setting up a June 21 runoff between the two frontrunners. With less than one percent of polling stations still unreported, the outcome was clear.
Valencia's response came swiftly. Standing before cameras, she announced her personal endorsement of de la Espriella, framing the choice as a defense against what she characterized as communist and neo-communist governance. She saw in de la Espriella's vote total an expression of Colombian exhaustion—voters rejecting what she called a corrupt, ineffectual government that had grown comfortable with violence. Her own defeat, in her telling, was not a repudiation of her politics but evidence of a broader hunger for change from the left.
She positioned herself as a soldier in an ongoing battle, invoking the resilience of Colombians and pledging to fight against what she termed Cepeda's destructive project, one she linked to criminality and corruption. The language was familiar from her campaign: appeals to freedom, progress, private enterprise, and care for the poor. But now she was fighting from third place, her voice one among several competing for influence over the runoff.
Her running mate, Juan Daniel Oviedo, saw things differently. An openly gay economist, Oviedo suggested that the votes they had expected to receive had simply vanished, swept away by what he called a dirty campaign from de la Espriella's camp—one he characterized as machista, homophobic, and irresponsible. The irony was sharp: Valencia was backing the man whose campaign Oviedo blamed for their defeat.
Oviedo announced he would delay his own endorsement decision until June 3, calling it a serious matter that required reflection. He owed his answer, he said, to the people of Bogotá, where he held political standing. His hesitation stood in stark contrast to Valencia's immediate pivot, suggesting fractures within the right-wing coalition even as it moved to consolidate against the left in the runoff.
Meanwhile, President Gustavo Petro, whose government Cepeda represented, questioned the preliminary count itself, signaling he would only recognize the official tally. The stage was set for a fierce final round, with Valencia now a supporting player in a drama she had hoped to lead.
Notable Quotes
As Paloma Valencia, the woman who wanted to be your president, I announce my support for Dr. Abelardo de la Espriella— Paloma Valencia
It's incredible that Colombia debates its future around homophobia, machismo, and irresponsibility in governance— Juan Daniel Oviedo
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Valencia collapse so dramatically from her polling numbers?
The source doesn't explain the mechanism—whether it was campaign missteps, voter movement to de la Espriella, or something else. We only know the gap between expectation and result was enormous.
And she immediately backed de la Espriella despite that gap?
Yes, within hours. For her, the math was ideological, not personal. De la Espriella's 10.3 million votes represented, in her view, a rejection of the left. She couldn't afford to sit out the runoff.
But her running mate didn't follow her lead.
Oviedo broke ranks. He blamed de la Espriella's campaign for their loss—called it homophobic and machista—then said he'd take three days to decide. It's a public distance, a signal that the right-wing coalition isn't as unified as Valencia's endorsement might suggest.
What does that fracture mean for the runoff?
It's unclear. Oviedo represents a different constituency—urban, progressive on social issues, but still center-right economically. If he doesn't endorse de la Espriella, those voters might scatter or stay home. Valencia's endorsement alone may not be enough to consolidate the right.
And Petro's response to the count?
He's already questioning the preliminary results, saying he'll only accept the official tally. It's a hedge, a way to preserve options if the numbers shift. The runoff is going to be contested from the start.