Uribe and Petro Against Abelardo? The Battle for Control of Colombia's Congress

There are things in politics you believe you will never see. Álvaro Uribe Vélez and Gustavo Petro have represented for decades two profoundly different visions of Colombia. Two political projects, two ways of understanding the state, the economy, national security. Two electorates that for years faced each other at the ballot box. And yet, in the first major legislative battle of the new government, sectors linked to both of those extremes ended up rowing in the same direction.

That is what happened in the election of the Senate presidency. Honorio Enríquez, of the Centro Democrático party, won 56 votes against 45 for Alfredo de Luque, the candidate backed by President Abelardo de la Espriella's incoming government. Among those 56 votes were some from the Pacto Histórico. From that came an expression that began to circulate: TocoNave — Todos Contra Abelardo, Everyone Against Abelardo.

But before accepting it at face value, Castro says, we must do what this program always does: understand what actually happened. Because a political coincidence does not necessarily mean an alliance. And voting against a president's preferred candidate does not automatically mean conspiring against his government. The difference matters. Enormously.

Did Abelardo Win the Presidency but Lose the Congress?

There is a lesson about democracy that we tend to forget. Abelardo won the Colombian presidency — but that does not mean he won Congress, let alone that he can govern it automatically.

Colombia has separation of powers. The president leads the executive branch. Congress has a life of its own: it has parties, caucuses, regional interests, internal leadership, and agreements. And it has something fundamental: votes. Votes that were not elected by the president — they were elected by Colombian citizens.

Castro translates this into an analogy anyone can grasp. Imagine you are president of a company, but the board of directors does not share your agenda. You may have an extraordinary plan and millions of people behind you, but there are decisions that require the board to vote. Something similar happens in a democracy. The president can propose, but many of a country's major transformations must pass through Congress first.

Abelardo received the backing of roughly 13 million Colombians. That gives him enormous electoral legitimacy to govern. But those votes do not automatically convert into votes inside Congress. And therein lies one of the great differences between winning a campaign and governing a country. During a campaign you need to persuade citizens. When you reach Congress, you need to build political agreements.

For a president who built much of his campaign on criticizing traditional politics, that is the real dilemma. Because on July 20th, the traditional politicians are still sitting in Congress — they did not disappear after election day. To change the country's politics, you need to govern. And to govern, you need to build majorities with the legislators citizens elected, including people you criticized during the campaign.

Is a Coincidence the Same as an Alliance?

Here is the distinction Castro considers central. A political alliance requires shared concrete objectives and normally some degree of permanence. A parliamentary coincidence can last a single vote. They can vote together today and face off again tomorrow — and that is also part of democracy.

Honorio Enríquez himself said it after his election: the Pacto Histórico's support did not mean either sector had embraced the other's ideology. In ideological terms, they may still be miles apart. But strategically, a single vote can coincide.

"Two people can detest each other politically and still vote exactly the same — not necessarily because they want the same thing."

We do not need to imagine Álvaro Uribe and Gustavo Petro sitting at a table saying, "Let's unite against Abelardo." Politics can work in a much simpler way. The Centro Democrático had its interest: electing its own candidate, Honorio Enríquez. The Pacto Histórico had a completely different interest: preventing the new government from controlling that position. Two different interests can produce exactly the same vote. That leads to the first major definition of TocoNave. Perhaps it does not mean everyone united against Abelardo. Perhaps it means everyone, for different reasons, finding moments to vote against Abelardo's interests. And that difference is enormous.

Why Did Uribismo Mark Distance — and Why Did Petrismo Vote as It Did?

To understand the Centro Democrático, we must start with a question that is often overlooked: why would Uribismo have to give up its own candidate simply because the president-elect prefers someone else? The President of the Republic does not choose the President of the Senate — senators do. That is how the separation of powers works.

That the Centro Democrático put forward its own candidate has nothing irregular, undemocratic, or necessarily disloyal about it. Sharing a vision of the country does not obligate any party to surrender its independence. And sharing an electorate does not mean sharing power.

But Castro also poses the question from the other side, with the honesty that defines his method. After four years of Gustavo Petro, millions of Colombians voted for a change of direction. Many voters from the Centro Democrático probably ended up supporting Abelardo in the presidential election. That raises a legitimate political question for Uribismo: how far should its independence from the new government extend before it ends up favoring precisely the political forces it has fought against for years?

As for the Pacto Histórico, Castro reframes the question. It was not: why did Petro support Uribismo? The correct question is: why did it benefit the Pacto Histórico for Abelardo to lose that vote? That changes the conversation entirely. The objective was possibly not to strengthen the Centro Democrático. The politically useful outcome for the opposition was to weaken the new government's capacity to impose its preference in the Senate. That is politics. And there is nothing undemocratic about it, as long as it involves no hidden agreements or unlawful conduct.

"I can vote for you without wanting you to be more powerful — simply because I want the other side to be less powerful."

Castro introduces an analogy to illustrate political incentives. Juan wants to reach Point A, Pedro wants Point B, María wants Point C. All three want completely different things. But for part of the journey, Juan and Pedro need to take exactly the same road. That does not mean they are partners. It means that for a few miles, it serves both of them to travel in the same direction. That is what can happen in politics.

What Does This Mean for the Next Four Years?

The election of Honorio Enríquez sent a clear message from the very beginning: President Abelardo, you won the election, but if you want to govern with Congress, you will have to build the majorities yourself. Castro notes this is healthy for a democracy — though acknowledging that does not mean ignoring the political signal the vote produced.

What is worth highlighting is Abelardo's response. After losing that confrontation, he publicly acknowledged the Congress's autonomy, congratulated Honorio Enríquez, and said he hoped to find common ground from the independent standpoint of each institution. Castro underlines the significance: if we defend congressional independence when it suits us, we must also defend it when we lose. That is what institutional commitment looks like.

Are we witnessing a divorce between the government and the Centro Democrático? Not necessarily. The relationship shows signs of recomposition: the Uribista leadership attended the presidential inauguration, and the new government has sought rapprochement with the party whose cooperation will be relevant for several legislative initiatives. Rather than a divorce, we may be watching something far more normal and far more interesting: a negotiation of power.

Is TocoNave a permanent reality? Castro keeps the word — not as a provable conspiracy, but as a political phenomenon worth watching. What happens when a new leadership emerges that alters the traditional balance of power? If what happened in the Senate was only a coincidence, time will prove it. But if this same behavior repeats itself across Colombia's major reforms and decisions, there will be reason to revisit TocoNave.

The Castro Method: Separating the Headline from the Facts

There is an easy way to cover this story: "Centro Democrático betrayed Abelardo." Headline ready. Analysis: none. Castro takes the opposite path — the harder and more necessary one.

He asks from the government's side: what exactly did it expect? He asks from the Centro Democrático's side: why should it abandon its own candidate? He asks from the Pacto Histórico's side: what served its interests as an opposition? Then he delivers all the answers — without aligning any of them with any party.

That is what Colombia needs: citizens who do not accept headlines as analysis, who ask the uncomfortable question, who understand the difference between an alliance and a coincidence, between voting against someone and conspiring against a government, between institutional independence and political sabotage. Politics changes every day. Names change, alliances change, interests change. That is why the invitation is always the same: look at the facts with objectivity, ask the questions, and use common sense to draw your own conclusions.