Amid a presidential campaign that has steadily raised both the tone and depth of political debate in Colombia, the proposal for a “national agreement” put forward by Ivan Cepeda has become one of the most closely scrutinized issues in the public sphere.
Framed as an alternative to convening a constituent assembly, the initiative appears, at least at first glance, to offer a path grounded in dialogue among social, economic, and political sectors. Yet as its contours begin to take shape, deeper tensions emerge because what initially sounds like a call for unity is increasingly being examined as a political strategy that could reshape the balance of power in Colombia in ways that are still not fully defined.
The context in which this proposal arises is critical to understanding its implications. President Gustavo Petro has openly suggested the possibility of calling for a constituent assembly to reform the 1991 Constitution, a charter widely credited with expanding rights and strengthening institutional checks and balances.
Against this backdrop, Cepeda’s proposal is presented as a more measured alternative, a step that seeks to build consensus before resorting to constitutional overhaul. However, the coexistence of both options suggests they are not mutually exclusive but rather part of a broader political horizon.
Instead of offering a clear alternative, the national agreement may function as a transitional mechanism that, under certain conditions, could lead to the same structural outcome.
At its core, the debate is not about labels or political rhetoric, but about institutional design. Who defines the rules of the agreement? Who participates? What happens if consensus is not achieved? And perhaps most importantly, what mechanisms would be used to implement the decisions that emerge from such a process?
A national agreement that seeks unity but leaves critical questions unanswered
As outlet El Colombiano points out, in public appearances, including conversations with journalist Maria Jimena Duzan on her ‘A Fondo’ podcast and with the director of El Tiempo, Andres Mompotes, Cepeda has described the national agreement as a broad platform for dialogue. The proposal envisions bringing together social movements, rural communities, business leaders, and political players to negotiate reforms that address Colombia’s most pressing challenges.
In a country marked by deep historical divisions, this approach carries an undeniable appeal. The idea of building consensus across sectors resonates with a longstanding demand for more inclusive governance. However, the strength of the concept also reveals its main weakness: its lack of operational clarity.
The proposal remains vague on key aspects, such as how participants would be selected, how decisions would be made, and how disagreements would be resolved.
This ambiguity opens the door to multiple interpretations. In the most optimistic reading, it allows for flexibility and adaptability. In a more critical view, it raises concerns about the concentration of agenda-setting power in the executive. If the government plays a decisive role in defining who sits at the table and which issues are prioritized, the agreement risks becoming less of a horizontal dialogue and more of a structured political instrument.
The fact that Cepeda does not rule out a constituent assembly if the agreement fails adds another layer of complexity. Rather than representing two distinct paths, the national agreement and the constituent assembly begin to look like sequential stages of a broader strategy. First, an attempt at negotiated reform; if that proves insufficient, a more direct and far-reaching institutional transformation.
A more agile state or the early signs of rule by decree?
It is at this point that one of the most sensitive questions in the current debate emerges: Does Ivan Cepeda implicitly point toward a model of governance that could rely heavily on executive decrees? The concern stems not from explicit statements, but from the institutional mechanisms that could flow from the national agreement.
Cepeda has suggested that the outcome of such a process could enable the government to implement reforms more efficiently, potentially through extraordinary powers granted by Congress. In principle, this could be justified as a way to overcome legislative gridlock and respond to urgent social demands.
However, efficiency in governance often comes with trade-offs. The role of Congress as a deliberative body is not merely procedural; it is central to the representation of diverse interests in a democracy. When decision-making shifts toward the executive, even temporarily, it alters that balance.
Political analyst Camilo Gonzalez has highlighted this risk in remarks cited by El Colombiano: “There is the possibility of an extraordinary powers law, as proposed by Ivan Cepeda … and in some ways there is a Chavez-style approach because Congress relinquishes its legislative authority in favor of the president in the hypothetical case that Cepeda were elected.”
This observation does not suggest an inevitable outcome, but it does point to a structural possibility. Governing by decree is not inherently incompatible with democratic systems, particularly when such powers are limited in scope and duration.
Colombia itself has used these mechanisms in specific contexts. The concern arises when they become normalized or extended beyond their intended limits, gradually shifting the center of political decision-making.
The “national agreement” proposed by Ivan Cepeda has also triggered a wide range of responses across Colombia’s political spectrum, revealing the tensions of an increasingly polarized campaign.
Among sectors aligned with the government, the proposal has been received as a potential tool for governance at a time when structural reforms have struggled to move forward in Congress.
Voices close to the political project of President Gustavo Petro have defended the agreement to build a broad consensus without immediately resorting to a constituent assembly. In that vein, figures such as Juan Fernando Cristo have suggested that the priority should be to exhaust political dialogue mechanisms first, framing the agreement as a starting point rather than an automatic prelude to bigger institutional changes.
However, as the proposal has gained visibility in the public debate, centrist sectors have responded with caution. Rather than rejecting the idea of national dialogue outright, they have questioned the lack of clarity surrounding its rules and scope.
Figures such as Claudia Lopez and Alejandro Gaviria have argued that the issue is not the concept itself, but the ambiguity in how it would be implemented. In particular, they have warned about the risk that “consensus” could end up being steered by the executive, potentially undermining the horizontal nature such a process is meant to have.
By contrast, opposition and right-leaning sectors have reacted much more directly and critically. While their concerns are not always aimed exclusively at the national agreement, they are framed within a broader unease about the country’s institutional trajectory.
Figures such as Paloma Valencia have reinforced the argument that proposals of this kind could be linked to a potential concentration of power, especially when considered alongside initiatives such as a constituent assembly.
In recent posts on her X account, Paloma Valencia stated: “The maduro model that Cepeda seems to admire so much is a failure, just like Cuba and the Soviet Union’s, where he was educated. We are the ones defending freedom and Colombia’s ability to create wealth. For us, security is just as important as social policy”.
She also argued that “Petro, Cepeda, and their allies are proposing a constituent assembly to dismantle democracy”. In this context, the national agreement has been interpreted by these sectors not as a neutral mechanism for dialogue, but as a possible prelude to structural changes that could alter Colombia’s democratic system.
Taken together, these reactions show that the “national agreement” is far from being a purely technical or procedural proposal. It is a deeply political concept, whose meaning shifts depending on where each actor stands within the electoral landscape. Rather than serving as a point of convergence, it has become a new axis of dispute over Colombia’s institutional future.
In that sense, the question is not whether Cepeda explicitly proposes a government by decree, but whether the framework he envisions could enable one under certain political conditions. The answer, at least for now, remains open.
Venezuela as an unavoidable reference point
Any discussion of concentrated executive power in Latin America inevitably brings Venezuela into the conversation. In this case, the comparison is not only analytical but also political, given Cepeda’s past statements, as highlighted by the news outlet El Colombiano, praising Hugo Chavez as the “architect of a new order” and expressing support for Nicolas Maduro.
Ivan Cepeda’s ideological proximity to the Venezuelan regime has been publicly evident in past statements, and while this does not necessarily mean that his candidacy would lead the country down a similar path, there are, for now, signals in his narrative that are raising relevant concerns.
It is important to look back and remember that the Venezuelan case did not begin with an overt concentration of power. The 1999 Constituent Assembly was initially framed as a “democratic response” to systemic crisis, aimed at renewing political institutions and expanding citizen participation.
However, over time, mechanisms such as enabling laws allowed the executive to bypass traditional legislative processes and implement wide-ranging reforms through decrees.
This process unfolded gradually, not as a sudden rupture but as a series of incremental steps. Each measure, taken in isolation, could be justified within a democratic framework.
Taken together, they contributed to a profound restructuring of the political system, concentrating power in the presidency and weakening institutional checks. In this context, Venezuela undoubtedly becomes a key point of reference in the lead-up to Colombia’s elections.
However, drawing a direct parallel between Colombia and Venezuela would be overly simplistic. The two countries differ significantly in their institutional structures, political histories, and social dynamics. Colombia’s system is characterized by greater fragmentation, stronger judicial independence, and a more pluralistic political landscape.
Yet the comparison remains relevant not because the outcomes must be identical, but because certain mechanisms can produce similar risks if applied without adequate safeguards.
The potential use of extraordinary powers, the ambiguity surrounding the national agreement’s structure, and the coexistence of a constituent assembly as a fallback option all point to a convergence of tools that could, under specific conditions, enable a concentration of power.
The key difference lies in the resilience of Colombia’s institutions. The presence of independent courts, an active civil society, and a competitive political environment could act as barriers to the kind of consolidation seen in Venezuela. However, these safeguards are not automatic. Their effectiveness depends on how they are tested in practice.
What is truly at stake for Colombia’s democracy?
Beyond political narratives and comparative analysis, the implications of this debate extend directly into the everyday lives of citizens. Constitutional reform and the expansion of executive powers are not abstract processes; they shape the rules that govern rights, participation, and accountability.
The 1991 Constitution has been central to Colombia’s democratic evolution, providing tools such as the tutela that allow individuals to defend their rights effectively. Any effort to modify this framework carries both opportunities and risks. It could lead to new forms of inclusion, but it could also alter protections that have become fundamental.
At the same time, the balance of power between branches of government remains a cornerstone of democratic stability. Strengthening the executive, even in the name of efficiency or consensus, must be carefully weighed against the need to preserve institutional oversight.
In this context, the question of whether Colombia could move toward a model of governance “by decree” is not merely a rhetorical device. It encapsulates a broader concern about how far a democracy can stretch its mechanisms of reform without compromising its foundational principles.
Colombia now faces a complex challenge: How to pursue meaningful structural change while maintaining the checks and balances that sustain its institutional integrity. The debate surrounding Ivan Cepeda’s national agreement reflects this tension in real time.
It is not a question with a simple answer, but one that will likely shape the country’s political trajectory for years to come. What is at stake is not just the method of reform, but the kind of democracy Colombia is willing to build and the limits it is prepared to defend in that process.