Colombia election sees pro-Trump lawyer lead first round

The plain fact is that political enthusiasm is rarely a measure of virtue, but rather a thermometer of ambition. The ingenuity spent denying this fact is itself evidence of its force. We are told that Aberaldo de la Espriella has pulled ahead in Colombia’s presidential race, a development celebrated by some as a triumph of democratic will and by others as a harbinger of the “Donroe doctrine.” I care little for the label; I care for the weight. What does this shift ask of the ordinary man in Bogotá or Medellín? And more importantly, what does it cost the man who proposes it?

To speak of a “strongman” is to speak of a convenience. It is a term used by those who wish to be led without the burden of leading themselves. The appeal of such leadership is not that it promises justice, for justice is slow, tedious, and often unpleasant to the powerful. Its appeal is that it promises order, and order is the one commodity that the anxious mind values above all others. But we must look closely at the nature of this order. It is not the order of law, which is a shield for the weak against the strong. It is the order of the whip, which is a tool for the strong against the weak. The distinction is vital, though it is often obscured by the rhetoric of stability.

Mr. de la Espriella is described as a lawyer. This is a profession that teaches one to argue for whatever position one is paid to defend, regardless of its merit. It is a training in the art of plausible deniability. When a man who has made his living by finding loopholes in the law is elected to enforce the law, we should not be surprised if he finds the law to be an obstacle rather than a guide. The self-deception here is palpable. The supporters of such figures tell themselves they are choosing strength. They are, in truth, choosing a master. They mistake the confidence of the bully for the competence of the statesman. It is a confusion as old as history, and as persistent as hunger.

Consider the cost. The “Donroe doctrine,” or any doctrine of strongman leadership, requires the ordinary citizen to surrender his agency. It asks him to trust that the strongman’s interest aligns with his own. This is a dangerous wager. The strongman’s interest is always his own preservation and enrichment. The ordinary man’s interest is his safety and his bread. These two interests coincide only when the strongman is weak enough to need the people, or wise enough to fear them. History suggests that neither condition lasts long.

We must also examine the language used to describe this shift. “Regional political shift” is a phrase that sounds neutral, like a change in the weather. But a storm does not merely change the weather; it destroys the roof. To describe the rise of authoritarianism as a “shift” is to minimize its violence. It is to treat the erosion of liberty as a matter of taste, rather than a matter of survival. The ingenuity of modern political analysis lies in its ability to dress up tyranny in the clothing of preference. We are told that the people “want” this. But do they want it, or are they merely afraid of the alternative? Fear is a poor counselor, and it rarely leads to good governance. It leads to compliance, which is not the same as consent.

I have seen men in my own time who claimed to love liberty while practicing servitude. They argued that order was the prerequisite for freedom. But order without justice is merely a prison with better furniture. The man who has not been cold does not know what warmth is worth; the man who has not been oppressed does not know what liberty is worth. Mr. de la Espriella, and those who support him, have not paid the price of oppression. They speak of it from the warmth of their studies, or the comfort of their offices. They propose solutions that cost them nothing, while asking the poor to pay with their dignity.

The concrete person in this scenario is not the candidate, nor the analyst, nor the historian. It is the shopkeeper in Cartagena who must decide whether to close his doors early for fear of unrest, or the teacher in Medellín who must choose between speaking truth and keeping her job. For them, the “shift” is not a headline. It is a daily calculation of risk. The moral weight of this election is not measured in votes, but in the silence of those who are afraid to speak.

Let us not be deceived by the spectacle. The rise of the strongman is not a victory for the people. It is a confession of their despair. It is an admission that the institutions of democracy have failed to protect them, and that they are willing to trade their freedom for the illusion of security. This is a bargain that has never held good. The strongman always takes more than he gives. And when the bill comes due, it is the ordinary man who pays. We should weigh the enthusiasm of his supporters accordingly. It is not the enthusiasm of hope, but the desperation of those who have run out of options. And that is a tragedy, not a triumph.