This Sunday, Ivan Cepeda, the candidate of the left-wing governing party Historic Pact, lost Colombia’s first-round presidential election. His ambition, as well as that of President Gustavo Petro and the entire progressive coalition, was to reach the Casa de Nariño outright without being exposed to a runoff election, where he could very well be defeated. But something even worse happened: He must now face far-right candidate Abelardo de la Espriella in the June 21 runoff crossing his fingers, hoping to get some of the votes from Paloma Valencia’s voters.
Cepeda was pushing this objective so strongly that he added a phrase to the slogan Petro used during his 2022 presidential campaign (“I am Gustavo Petro and I want to be your president”): “I am Ivan Cepeda and I want to be your president, in the first round.” The entire progressive movement understood that this was practically the only opportunity their candidate had because, if he failed to do it, the runoff would likely become, as several analysts estimate, an uphill battle. Now the runoff is even steeper for the left-wing candidate.
One of the first reflections arising from Sunday’s election results, in which Cepeda failed to win as he had hoped, is that he did not have the number of votes the left had calculated, nor did he manage to attract enough centrist voters.
Part of the mistake may have been that the left believed Cepeda could replicate Petro’s achievement in 2022, when he capitalized on the discontent of broad sectors of society, particularly working-class voters, under conditions that demanded the change he promised.
Gustavo Petro’s push failed to deliver
For the progressive movement, it is highly significant that, with the state apparatus placed at his disposal, Cepeda was unable to deliver the long-awaited blow of winning in the first round.
In his favor stood an expanded state payroll filled with militant employees and relatively few technical professionals. President Petro even finally emerged, near the end of his term, to speak with the media, hoping in a last effort to show Colombians — especially undecided voters, since the hard-core leftist electorate needed no convincing — the virtues of continuing a left-wing government.
Not even Petro’s open participation in politics worked. In recent days, he intensified his interventions in favor of Cepeda, something that prompted objections from authorities such as Attorney General Gregorio Eljach and Ombudsman Iris Marin.
Both urged the president to refrain from continuing to promote Cepeda’s candidacy. A concern raised by Eljach before the House of Representatives’ Accusations Commission led that legislative body — the only institution empowered to investigate and sanction a head of state — to open an investigation into the president for alleged participation in politics.
Even the Fifth Section of the Council of State ordered President Petro to refrain from disseminating electoral propaganda in favor of or against any political party, group, or movement. The order from Colombia’s highest administrative court came amid the controversy between the Attorney General’s Office and the Accusations Commission regarding the progress of investigations against the president for alleged improper political participation.
Nor did the expected effect materialize from the 23 percent increase in the minimum wage and the presidential announcement of another increase if the Central Bank raised interest rates. It almost seems as though workers turned their backs on Petroism: they are happy with their two-million-peso salary, but that satisfaction was not reflected in votes for Cepeda. Many questions remain unresolved heading into the runoff, as does the obligation to adjust a strategy that many view as unfavorable to Cepeda at this stage.
The result may have been a referendum on Petro
There has been no shortage of arguments suggesting, as has occurred in various elections held during Petro’s administration, that Sunday’s election also served as a kind of referendum on Petro and his government.
Insecurity and deteriorating public order, severe problems in the health care system, the troubled handling of international relations, and even corruption scandals involving his administration and his personal life may have delivered a political bill that Cepeda could not pay with sufficient votes.
Perhaps, as often happens in Colombian elections, people did not vote because they found De la Espriella’s and Paloma Valencia’s proposals appealing, but rather to prevent Petro’s project from continuing under Cepeda. For the overwhelming majority of Colombians, the fear of having their cellphone stolen is infinitely more tangible than political promises.
The left’s electoral setback stemmed from issues that affect citizens’ daily lives, such as rising crime. That provided fertile ground for the promises of order and a firm hand offered by right-wing candidates.
It may have been precisely the promise of a tougher approach toward illegal armed groups and the end of the fragile negotiation tables under the failed Total Peace policy that enabled De la Espriella to secure enough votes to push Cepeda into the ropes of a runoff election.
Another reason may be that voters fear that, just as Petro broke his solemn promise not to convene a constituent assembly or alter the Constitution, his political heir may fail to honor the commitments he proclaims at public rallies.
Perhaps voters did see Cepeda as a continuation of Petro’s ideas, but specifically those related to seeking an institutional rupture, discrediting, and constantly attacking the Judicial and Legislative branches whenever court rulings are unfavorable or when Congress exercises oversight over government initiatives. In other words, when the checks-and-balances system of the Republic functions as liberal democracies expect it to.
‘Where is the new vote?’ They asked during the campaign
His strategy of refusing political debates with the other presidential candidates and only wanting to confront De la Espriella and Valencia (although this was merely a way of avoiding broader confrontation) may also have come back to haunt Cepeda. Like Petro, his reluctance to engage with the media may have portrayed him as a candidate who was closed off and unwilling to defend his ideas and proposals in open debate.
Moreover, he lacked the charisma and spirit needed to move the emotions of voters beyond his traditional base. He did fill public squares, but mainly with his longtime supporters, joined by students and teachers from SENA, labor unions, Indigenous groups, and public employees motivated more by the desire to keep their jobs than by Cepeda’s scripted speeches. In this first round, it became clear that the candidate’s coldness and stiffness failed to attract different voters.
Vice-presidential running mates likely also played an important role in the results of this first round. Aida Quilcue brought the votes that have accompanied her throughout her political career, mainly in Cauca, but as many warned when Cepeda selected her, she was unlikely to add much beyond that.
By contrast, Restrepo arrived without any significant political base, armed only with an impressive and promising résumé and an affable personality that easily connects with people.
The situation in which Cepeda now finds himself had already been anticipated by figures within the government itself. Adelina Guerrero Covo, wife of Interior Minister Armando Benedetti, wrote on May 24, the day public campaign rallies concluded: “We must leave behind the narrative of the ‘first round’ because they are in for a big surprise.
A campaign is not won by repeating the same formulas. The Petroist vote is already secured. Where is the new vote? Innovation, enthusiasm, greater media presence, and a campaign that truly connects with those who still do not feel represented are needed.”