She knows how to construct bridges, not trenches
Sergio Fajardo chose educator Edna Bonilla; Luis Gilberto Murillo selected Luz María Zapata; Iván Cepeda paired with indigenous leader Aida Quilcué to compete in first-round elections. Right-wing candidate Paloma Valencia delayed announcing her running mate while negotiating with centrist Juan Daniel Oviedo, who won 1.2 million votes in the conservative primary consultation.
- Sergio Fajardo chose Edna Bonilla, former Bogotá education secretary
- Iván Cepeda paired with indigenous leader Aida Quilcué
- Paloma Valencia delayed announcing her running mate after negotiations with Juan Daniel Oviedo failed
- Roy Barreras' coalition alleged 900,000 votes were fraudulently altered in the Sunday consultation
- First-round presidential elections scheduled for May 31, 2026
Colombian presidential candidates announced their vice-presidential running mates ahead of May 31 primary elections, with center-left, right-wing, and ultra-right candidates finalizing their formulas amid polarization and allegations of electoral fraud.
Colombia's presidential race crystallized this week as the leading candidates announced their vice-presidential running mates, each choice a calculated signal about how they intend to govern and whom they hope to win over. The shape of the campaign—fractured along ideological lines, shadowed by fraud allegations, and driven by the arithmetic of coalition-building—became visible in these pairings.
Sergio Fajardo, the centrist former mayor of Medellín, chose Edna Bonilla, an academic and former education secretary of Bogotá under Claudia López. He announced the decision at dawn on the campus of the National University, where both had taught. Fajardo framed Bonilla as a bridge-builder in a polarized moment. "She knows how to construct bridges, not trenches," he said, emphasizing that she was not a household name but represented a different kind of politics—one rooted in dialogue rather than confrontation. Bonilla, speaking at the same event, pledged to center education, security, health, and women's issues in the campaign. The choice signaled Fajardo's bet that voters hungry for consensus would reward a ticket of two academics with track records in public service.
On the left, Iván Cepeda of the ruling Pacto Histórico coalition paired himself with Aida Quilcué, an indigenous senator and longtime activist. The announcement came after a bureaucratic tangle—missing documents delayed the formal registration by nearly six hours—and amid questions about whether Quilcué faced legal obstacles to the candidacy. The coalition's leadership moved quickly to defend her, clarifying that she had properly transitioned between parties and faced no disqualification. Cepeda's choice of an indigenous woman, a victim of Colombia's long conflict, underscored the government coalition's claim to represent historically marginalized constituencies. Luis Gilberto Murillo, another centrist-leaning candidate with roots in the Pacific coast region, selected Luz María Zapata, a political scientist who had led the association of Colombian mayors. Both moves suggested that the center and center-left were attempting to position themselves as alternatives to the polarized extremes.
The right-wing race proved more turbulent. Paloma Valencia, who won the conservative primary consultation with over three million votes, spent days in negotiations with Juan Daniel Oviedo, who finished second with 1.2 million. Oviedo had positioned himself as more open to respecting the 2016 peace accord with the FARC—a position anathema to Valencia's uribista base. The two met repeatedly, but Valencia eventually concluded that Oviedo was uncomfortable with the arrangement. "He doesn't have an obligation to be my running mate, and I don't have an obligation for him to be," she said, signaling that she would look elsewhere. The delay frustrated observers and revealed the fault lines within the right: between those like Valencia, ideologically hardline but tactically flexible, and those like Oviedo, who wanted to signal openness to the center. Former president Álvaro Uribe, Valencia's political godfather, released a video defending her as "authority with a maternal heart," attempting to soften her image even as he reiterated his fierce opposition to the peace accord.
Meanwhile, Abelardo de la Espriella, an ultra-right outsider candidate, announced José Manuel Restrepo, a former finance and commerce minister under Iván Duque, as his running mate. The choice positioned De la Espriella as a bridge to traditional conservative technocracy. Restrepo, in turn, sent conciliatory messages to Valencia, suggesting that despite their rivalry, the right might find common ground. The subtext was clear: the conservative vote was splintering, and the second round of voting in May would likely force difficult coalitions.
Underlying all these announcements was a darker current. Roy Barreras, a left-wing senator whose "Frente Amplio Unitario" coalition had performed poorly in the Sunday consultation, alleged that over 900,000 votes had been fraudulently altered or disappeared. He demanded a forensic audit and international oversight. The OEA's election observation mission, meanwhile, published its preliminary report, noting both improvements in electoral administration and new concerns that required attention. The allegations of fraud, whether substantiated or not, deepened the sense that the May 31 primary elections would be contested not just at the ballot box but in courts and in the court of public opinion.
President Gustavo Petro, constrained by law from campaigning directly, nonetheless attacked Valencia in a series of posts, accusing her of disguising hatred as love. "There are hatreds that disguise themselves as love," he wrote, a barbed reference to her recent statements about wanting to embrace both his supporters and the uribistas. The president's intervention, technically improper, underscored how much the sitting government felt threatened by the possibility of a rightward shift. As the candidates finalized their tickets and the campaign entered its formal phase, Colombia faced a choice between competing visions of the country's future—and a test of whether its electoral institutions could withstand the pressures of deep ideological division.
Citações Notáveis
She knows how to construct bridges, not trenches— Sergio Fajardo, on his running mate Edna Bonilla
He doesn't have an obligation to be my running mate, and I don't have an obligation for him to be— Paloma Valencia, on negotiations with Juan Daniel Oviedo
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did Fajardo choose someone relatively unknown to be his running mate?
He was making a statement about what his campaign stands for. Bonilla isn't a celebrity, but she has real experience building consensus in education policy. In a race where everyone else is shouting about their base, Fajardo is saying: I'm betting on competence and dialogue over star power.
And Cepeda's choice of an indigenous woman—was that purely symbolic, or does it reflect something deeper about his coalition?
It's both. Yes, it signals inclusion and representation. But Quilcué is also a serious political figure with her own constituency. The government needed to show it could hold together a coalition that includes indigenous movements, Afro-Colombian communities, and urban progressives. That's not easy in Colombia.
The negotiations between Valencia and Oviedo seem to have broken down. What was really at stake there?
The 2016 peace accord. Oviedo won votes by signaling he'd respect it; Valencia's base wants it dismantled. You can't paper over that difference with a running mate. Valencia realized that choosing Oviedo would fracture her own coalition, so she walked away.
Barreras is alleging massive fraud. How seriously should we take that?
The allegations deserve investigation. But Barreras also lost badly—his coalition got a quarter of the votes he'd hoped for. There's a natural temptation to blame the system rather than accept defeat. That said, electoral fraud is real in Colombia. The truth will emerge in the audits.
What does Petro's intervention—attacking Valencia from the presidency—tell us about his confidence level?
It suggests he's worried. He's technically breaking the law by campaigning while in office, which means he thinks the stakes are high enough to risk it. If Cepeda were clearly winning, Petro wouldn't need to attack Valencia so directly.
So May 31 is really a referendum on the government?
It's more than that. It's a referendum on whether Colombia wants to continue the social reforms Petro started, or reverse course toward the Duque-era model. The running mates matter because they signal which direction each candidate would actually go.