Can Francia Márquez give voice to Colombia’s forgotten?
Genevieve Glatsky
Bogotá, Colombia
While Clemencia Carabali was watching TV coverage of the funerals of five Afro-Colombian teens who had been tortured and killed back in 2020, she did not expect anything could shake her from her anger and grief.
Then, fellow human rights activist Francia Márquez turned to address the cameras to announce a run for Colombia’s top office.
“What a daring thing to do,” Ms. Carabali remembers thinking, after she almost fell from her seat. “In a racist, sexist, classist” country like Colombia, Black women from poor families like Ms. Márquez don’t successfully cross the barriers into national politics, she says.
Why We Wrote This
Amid widespread poverty and despair, Sunday’s elections in Colombia have thrown up a beacon of hope for those dispossessed – a Black woman running for vice president and promising to represent the nation’s “nobodies.”
But that could be about to change.
Ms. Márquez has experienced a meteoric rise over the past several months, from an environmental activist with little national name recognition to a political candidate with a growing, rock-star following. She’s now the vice presidential candidate on the leftist Historic Pact party ticket of Gustavo Petro at presidential elections this weekend, and her presence has inspired the nation’s “nobodies,” as she refers to Colombia’s long-overlooked poor citizens.
Colombia has never had a leftist president, let alone an Afro-Colombian vice president, and the pair are promising progressive changes such as greater access to land for poor people and widespread health services. Mr. Petro, who is making his third presidential bid and previously served as mayor of Bogotá, the capital, is polling well in the lead, but is not likely to win the 50% of votes needed to stave off a second round.
But it is Ms. Márquez’s atypical profile that is igniting new levels of hope for her supporters at this election. She is a Black woman and was a teenage mother who cleaned houses in a nation where femicides are an enduring scourge and Afro-Colombians are twice as likely to suffer infant mortality and hunger as the average citizen.
She has dedicated her career to environmental activism in a country deemed the deadliest place in the world for that type of work. Her family was forced off its land because of her activism, the sort of thing that can often get you labeled a guerrilla sympathizer in a country that only recently declared an end to its nearly six-decade-long civil war.
“I am a woman who has lived through the hardships of this country, which is what most Colombians have lived through,” Ms. Márquez says in an interview. She connects with her constituents, she says, because they see themselves reflected in her.
“If I can become vice president, I send a message of empowerment,” to the youth, to women, to poor people of Colombia who have long suffered, she says.
“They feel pain but at the same time, they feel hope.”
From “Green Nobel” to presidential ticket
Ms. Márquez became an activist at the age of 13, when the construction of a dam threatened her hometown. The risks it posed to her ancestral territory – drying up wetlands and flooding traditional crops – propelled her into a career in environmental advocacy. In 2014, she organized a 10-day, 350-mile march and three weeks of demonstrations to protest illegal gold mining, which forced the government to dismantle mining machinery in the town of La Toma and create a national task force on illegal mining. She was awarded the Goldman Environmental Prize, or “Green Nobel,” in 2018.
But environmental activism rarely translates to a career in politics – at least in Colombia. The political establishment is made up of familiar profiles: wealthy, white, male. That has created deeply entrenched distrust between the government and people in many rural and poor parts of the country, which are often the regions hardest hit by Colombia’s decadeslong civil conflict. As a result, many who look like Ms. Márquez or come from similarly humble beginnings are disengaged from traditional politics and missing from the national conversation.
Her swift rise has taken many by surprise.
“When she began to gain so much momentum, nobody expected it,” says Aura Hurtado, who teaches history at the Universidad del Valle in Cali. But Dr. Hurtado says the country was primed for a leader like Ms. Márquez.
Colombia is experiencing a period of enormous discontent. Inequality and lack of opportunity heightened during the pandemic, as unemployment rose from 10% to 15% and sparked widespread protests, which were forcefully repressed by the government. Some 40% of the population lives in poverty.
“The young people who participated in the [protests] recognize her as part of the front line,” Dr. Hurtado says. “They recognize her as a legitimate political leader,” in a way most established politicians are not.
Mr. Petro’s biggest challenger this weekend is Federico Gutiérrez, a former mayor of Medellín who has the support of center-right voters and would be expected to uphold the political status quo if elected.
Ms. Márquez has provided the Historic Pact party with “outsider” bona fides, which she plays up in her public appearances. Her success so far – including placing third in the presidential primary in March – “shows the tremendously adverse sentiment that people have against the political class at this time in Colombia,” says Sandra Borda, an associate professor of political science at the Universidad de Los Andes.
“We will have love”
On a recent Saturday night, the Parque de los Periodistas in downtown Bogotá was packed with people donning T-shirts scrawled with “vivir sabroso,” roughly translating to “live life to the fullest,” and “Vice President Francia” hats. The crowd was speckled with the purple color of Mr. Petro’s Historic Pact party, and a rainbow flag fluttered above the crowd.
Ms. Márquez’s closing campaign event coincided with Afro-Colombian Day, a commemoration of the country’s abolition of slavery, and many rallygoers hailed from Afro-Colombian communities.
When Ms. Márquez finally took the microphone, the crowd erupted, chanting, “We love you, Francia.”
“It’s not easy when you are a girl, and they tell you that your hair is ugly ... that your ancestors are African – and the references are not to the Africa that developed humanity, but to the ... impoverished Africa,” she told the crowd, her voice growing hoarse with emotion.
She went on to call for Afro-Colombian pride, and for the necessity of dreams and role models for citizens of all stripes. Afro-Colombians make up roughly 10% of the population and are underrepresented in business and politics.
Even before polls open this weekend, Ms. Márquez has made a lasting mark on politics here, says David Murillo, a racial justice researcher at Dejusticia, a human rights nongovernmental organization. Soon after she was announced as Mr. Petro’s vice presidential pick, four out of the other six candidates also selected Afro-Colombian running mates.
It’s no coincidence. Her candidacy “is the recognition of a population that has been invisible for many years, decades, even centuries,” Mr. Murillo says.
Ms. Márquez’s rise has sparked challenging conversations around racism, classism, and machismo. She is starting “to generate discomfort in what is known as the establishment,” says Mr. Murillo. “She is touching on issues that were not talked about before.”
Joha Ardila, a political science student attending Ms. Márquez’s closing rally, agrees.
“As a Black woman, that Francia Márquez has put herself in a space of power means that all Black women and all Black girls can grow thinking about reaching that space,” she says, adding that – at last – she feels seen in her own country.
Ms. Márquez finished her speech from behind police shields after bodyguards spotted a green laser pointed at her chest. Even before she exploded onto the national political scene, Ms. Márquez survived assassination attempts and death threats for her activism. As her security team ushered her offstage, she struggled to deliver her final message, fireworks erupting behind her.
“After hope, we will have love,” she called out. “We will have joy.”