In a landmark decision that’s sending ripples through Colombia and beyond, the nation’s Constitutional Court has upheld and expanded a sweeping ban on bullfighting, cockfighting, and other traditional animal sports, marking a dramatic shift in the country’s cultural landscape. The ruling, delivered on September 4, 2025, cements Law 2385 of 2024 as the law of the land, placing animal rights above longstanding customs and igniting passionate debates about tradition, livelihoods, and the definition of culture itself.
The journey to this ruling began in earnest in May 2024, when Colombia’s Congress passed the so-called “No Más Olé” (No More Ole) law after months of heated debate. President Gustavo Petro, a vocal opponent of animal cruelty in the name of entertainment, signed the bill into law that July. At the time, Petro declared, “Justice cannot tell the world that killing sentient beings for fun is culture. If we amuse ourselves by killing an animal, we also amuse ourselves by killing humans.” As reported by Colombia One, his words struck a chord with animal rights advocates and sparked outrage among aficionados of bullfighting and cockfighting, who viewed the ban as an attack on their heritage.
The Constitutional Court’s decision this week didn’t just uphold the law—it extended its reach. According to the Associated Press, the Court formally aligned the ban with Colombia’s Constitution and struck down exceptions that had previously allowed certain regional sports to continue. Now, all forms of bullfighting—including the classic corridas de toros, rejoneo (where bullfighters ride horses), novilladas (novice bullfights), becerradas (involving calves), and tientas—are declared contrary to animal rights and are set for a definitive end. The ban also sweeps up corralejas and coleo, two deeply rooted regional traditions.
For those unfamiliar, corralejas is a raucous, dangerous sport popular along Colombia’s Caribbean Coast. It invites not just professional riders but also the general public into the arena, where participants taunt and dodge charging bulls. The risks are real: about a decade ago in Arjona, a bull killed two people and left 15 others seriously injured, a tragedy that still haunts the community, as Colombia One recounts. Coleo, meanwhile, hails from the Llanos region, where riders on horseback chase cattle and attempt to topple them by pulling their tails—a spectacle as controversial as it is beloved by its supporters.
Perhaps most notably, the Court’s ruling extends the ban to cockfighting, another centuries-old tradition in Colombia. This decision was met with fierce resistance from the Colombian cockfighting federation, which claims the sport supports around 290,000 families and boasts a million aficionados. “We consider cockfighting an important tradition,” the federation told lawmakers, urging Congress not to outlaw the practice. But as AP reports, these pleas ultimately fell on deaf ears. The Court’s statement, while brief, was unequivocal: animal rights trump tradition.
Opponents of the ban, including bullfighting supporters who mounted a legal challenge, argued that prohibiting these events violates their rights to artistic expression. The Constitutional Court, however, rejected this appeal. The judges did not elaborate on their reasoning, but their decision aligns with a growing global consensus that animal welfare is a fundamental right—one that can outweigh even the most cherished customs.
Still, the Court recognized the economic and cultural impact of its ruling. Both the bullfighting and cockfighting bans will be phased in over several years to give those affected time to adapt. The prohibition on bullfighting will be fully enforced by 2027, while cockfighting will be completely outlawed by 2028. This three-year transition period, confirmed by the Court, is designed to allow professionals, aficionados, and entire communities to seek alternative livelihoods and cultural expressions.
For many, this transition won’t be easy. Cockfighting alone is estimated to support nearly 300,000 families, from breeders and trainers to arena workers and vendors. The economic footprint of bullfighting, though diminished in recent years, still lingers in cities and towns where the sport once drew crowds and tourist dollars. The Colombian cockfighting federation has expressed deep concern about the future of these families, warning that the ban could devastate local economies and erase traditions that stretch back generations.
Bullfighting, after all, has been part of Colombian life since Spanish colonial times. Its roots run deep, entwined with festivals, music, and regional identity. But times are changing. As AP notes, the popularity of bullfighting has waned in recent years as public attitudes toward animal rights evolve. Younger generations, urbanites, and animal welfare advocates have been especially vocal in their opposition to what they see as cruelty masquerading as culture.
Colombia’s move puts it in step with a broader international trend. Today, only seven countries still permit bullfighting: Spain, France, Portugal, Mexico, Venezuela, Ecuador, and Peru. Even within these nations, local and regional bans have been enacted, reflecting growing discomfort with the spectacle. In Colombia, the tide has clearly turned. What was once celebrated as artistry and bravery is now, for many, indefensible violence.
The ruling has sparked soul-searching across the political spectrum. Some lawmakers and cultural conservatives warn that erasing traditional sports risks eroding national identity and alienating rural communities. Others, including President Petro and animal rights groups, argue that progress sometimes means letting go of the past. “Justice cannot tell the world that killing sentient beings for fun is culture,” Petro’s words echo in the national conversation, challenging Colombians to rethink what they value and why.
Supporters of the ban see it as a moral victory and a necessary step toward a more compassionate society. They point to the suffering endured by animals in the ring and the dangers posed to participants and spectators alike. Opponents, meanwhile, lament the loss of cultural heritage and fear for the economic fallout. The three-year transition period is, if nothing else, an attempt to bridge these divides and give everyone time to adjust.
Looking ahead, the future of Colombia’s traditional animal sports is clear: by the end of this decade, bullfighting, cockfighting, corralejas, and coleo will be relegated to history books and fading memories. What comes next for the communities built around these traditions remains to be seen, but the country’s highest court has made its position unmistakable. Colombia is charting a new course—one that, for better or worse, puts animal welfare at the heart of its cultural identity.
As the dust settles, one thing is certain: the debate over tradition, rights, and progress is far from over. But for now, the roar of the crowd and the clash of horns and spurs in Colombian arenas are destined to fade, replaced by new forms of celebration—and, perhaps, a different kind of pride.
