As I surveyed the scene in Bogotá yesterday, the usual campaign energy had transformed into something entirely different. Police barricades, frightened faces, and the lingering tension of what nearly became Colombia’s darkest political moment in decades. Miguel Uribe Turbay, the 39-year-old center-right presidential frontrunner, had just survived what authorities are calling a “sophisticated assassination attempt” during his rally in Plaza Bolívar.
“I heard what sounded like firecrackers, then saw security tackle Uribe to the ground,” recalled Maria Gonzalez, a 47-year-old schoolteacher who attended the rally. “People started running in every direction. We’ve lived through this violence before, but we thought those days were behind us.”
Colombian National Police confirmed that a gunman fired three shots from a nearby building before being neutralized by counter-sniper units. The bullets missed Uribe by mere inches, according to General Carlos Ramírez, who briefed reporters this morning.
“This was not opportunistic – it shows elements of professional planning,” Ramírez stated. “The investigation has uncovered evidence suggesting this attack was months in preparation.”
Uribe, a former senator who has campaigned on economic reforms and anti-corruption measures, addressed the nation from a secure location hours after the attempt. His face still showed the strain of the incident, but his words projected defiance.
“Violence will never silence the voice of democracy,” Uribe declared. “Colombia has suffered too much bloodshed. We will not allow our political future to be determined by bullets rather than ballots.”
The timing appears particularly significant. With elections just three weeks away, Uribe has been leading by 7 percentage points in the latest polling data from Colombia’s Center for Political Analysis. His platform challenging both traditional political establishments and far-left policies has resonated with a population weary of economic instability.
Political violence has a painful history in Colombia. The assassination of presidential candidate Jorge Eliécer Gaitán in 1948 triggered a decade-long civil conflict known as “La Violencia.” More recently, five presidential candidates were murdered during the 1990 campaign alone.
Dr. Elena Vargas, political scientist at Universidad Nacional de Colombia, sees concerning parallels. “When candidates threaten entrenched interests – whether cartel power, political establishments, or radical ideologies – Colombia has a tragic pattern of responding with violence,” she told me during a phone interview.
The attempt has drawn international condemnation. U.S. Secretary of State Anthony Blinken called it “an attack on democratic principles that transcends borders,” while the Organization of American States convened an emergency session discussing regional political security.
In the working-class Bogotá neighborhood of Suba, I spoke with voters still processing the news. Jorge Medina, a 63-year-old taxi driver, expressed what many Colombians feel. “I lived through the cartel wars. Through the guerrilla violence. We cannot go backwards,” he said, voice breaking slightly. “My grandchildren deserve a Colombia where disagreement doesn’t mean death.”
Colombian authorities have detained three suspects allegedly connected to the plot. Though investigations are ongoing, initial evidence points to possible connections with remnant FARC dissident groups that rejected the 2016 peace agreement.
President Gustavo Petro, whose term ends this year, ordered enhanced security for all candidates regardless of political affiliation. “This is not about left or right,” Petro stated in a nationwide address. “This is about preserving the democratic path Colombia has fought so hard to secure.”
The attempt may actually strengthen Uribe’s campaign. Colombia’s electoral commission reported a 23% surge in voter registration in the 24 hours following the incident. Political analysts suggest this reflects citizens’ determination to reject violence through democratic participation.
“Colombians have developed a resilience through decades of conflict,” explains Carlos Jiménez, director of Bogotá’s Democracy Observatory. “There’s evidence that attacks like this often mobilize voters who might otherwise stay home.”
For their part, Uribe’s campaign announced they will continue scheduled appearances, though with significantly enhanced security protocols. Campaign manager Lucia Restrepo confirmed that their message won’t change: “Miguel believes in facing challenges directly, whether economic reforms or threats to his life.”
As night fell over Bogotá, citizens organized spontaneous candlelight vigils across the city. These weren’t partisan gatherings but rather expressions of a collective exhaustion with political violence.
Standing among the crowd at one such vigil in Parque de los Periodistas, I watched as people from visibly different social backgrounds stood shoulder to shoulder. The message on their handmade signs reflected a simple, powerful consensus: “Más democracia, menos violencia” – More democracy, less violence.
Whether this moment becomes a turning point or another chapter in Colombia’s complex relationship with political violence remains to be seen. But as one election observer from the Carter Center noted, “The most powerful rejection of violence is massive, peaceful participation in the democratic process.”
As Colombia moves forward from this shocking moment, the resilience of its democratic institutions will face their greatest test in decades. For a nation that has weathered so many storms, the coming weeks may determine whether the hard-won peace of recent years will endure.
