Colombia election sees pro-Trump lawyer lead first round
Someone is being paid for the promise of order. What service, precisely, does this payment purchase for the society that provides it? In the recent elections in Colombia, Aberaldo de la Espriella has emerged as a leading figure, a development that signals not merely a change in personnel but a potential shift in the moral architecture of the state. The stakes, as they are described, involve a regional drift toward a “Donroe doctrine” of strongman leadership. To the casual observer, this is a political contest. To the student of economic ethics, it is a question of function. We must ask whether the authority being sought serves the genuine needs of the community or merely consolidates the power of those who have already acquired the means of exclusion.
The central error of the acquisitive society is the belief that wealth and power are ends in themselves, rather than instruments for human flourishing. When a political movement rises on the back of dissatisfaction with the existing order, it often promises stability. But stability for whom? If the stability offered is that of the ledger, protecting the accumulated assets of the few against the claims of the many, then it is not a social good but a private insurance policy. The “strongman” is frequently sold as a remedy for chaos, yet chaos is often the natural result of an economy that has forgotten its function. When wealth is divorced from service, when ownership becomes a right to extract rather than a duty to provide, the social fabric frays. The strongman does not heal this fracture; he merely holds the pieces together with an iron hand, ensuring that the extraction continues uninterrupted.
We must apply the test of function to this political shift. Does the leadership of Mr. de la Espriella represent a genuine service to the Colombian people? Or does it represent the protection of a class interest that has long ceased to contribute to the commonwealth? In the history of economic thought, we see that the legitimacy of authority has always been tied to its utility. The medieval canonists understood that property was a stewardship, not an absolute right. The modern capitalist, in his enthusiasm for accumulation, has forgotten this. He believes that the mere act of holding wealth confers a right to command. When this belief translates into politics, we get leaders who promise to protect the wealth of the owners, often at the expense of the workers who produce it.
The danger of the “Donroe doctrine” is not merely that it is authoritarian, but that it is functionless. It does not produce goods or services; it produces a hierarchy. It reinforces the idea that some men are born to rule and others to serve, not because of their merit or their contribution, but because of their position in the chain of ownership. This is a regression to a feudal mindset, dressed in the language of modern nationalism. It suggests that the problems of the present are solved not by addressing the structural inequalities of the economy, but by imposing a stricter discipline on those who suffer from them.
Equality of opportunity is a hollow promise if the starting positions are radically unequal. In Colombia, as in many nations, the gap between the wealthy and the poor is not just a matter of income; it is a matter of power. The wealthy have the power to shape the laws, to influence the media, and to determine the terms of political debate. When a leader like Mr. de la Espriella rises, we must ask whether he is breaking this monopoly or reinforcing it. If his platform is one of national strength, we must ask what nation he serves. Is it the nation of citizens, equal in worth and dignity? Or is it the nation of shareholders, whose primary interest is the preservation of their dividends?
The historical record shows that societies which elevate acquisition over function eventually find themselves impoverished in spirit, if not in material. They become obsessed with the means of life, forgetting the ends. They build walls to keep out the poor, while the rich retreat into gated communities of their own making. This is not civilization; it is a fortress. And a fortress is a poor place to live.
We must be careful not to confuse the symptom with the disease. The rise of strongman politics is a symptom of a deeper malaise: the failure of the economic system to provide a sense of shared purpose. When people feel that the economy is rigged against them, they look for a savior. But the savior who offers only protection for the wealthy is no savior at all. He is merely a guard dog for the acquisitive society.
The true test of any political movement is whether it expands the sphere of human freedom or contracts it. Does it allow more people to participate in the life of the community? Does it reduce the barriers that separate the rich from the poor? Or does it simply change the face of the elite while leaving the structure of inequality intact? In the case of Mr. de la Espriella, the evidence so far suggests the latter. The promise of order is a seductive one, but it is a dangerous one if it comes at the cost of justice. We must remember that justice is not a luxury; it is the foundation of any stable society. Without it, order is merely the silence of the oppressed.
In the end, the question is not who wins the election, but what kind of society we are building. Are we building a society where wealth is a tool for service, or where service is a pretext for wealth? The answer to this question will determine not just the fate of Colombia, but the future of the idea of community itself. We must choose between a society that values function and one that values acquisition. The choice is not easy, but it is necessary. For if we do not choose, the choice will be made for us, by those who have the most to lose if the functionless wealth is finally challenged.