Colombia’s relations with the United States have entered a turbulent new phase after a dramatic series of diplomatic escalations that began with President Gustavo Petro’s controversial appearance at a pro-Palestinian rally in New York and culminated in the revocation of his U.S. visa. The fallout has now ensnared much of Petro’s cabinet, with senior ministers renouncing their own visas in solidarity and defiance, deepening the rift between Bogotá and Washington at a moment of acute national vulnerability.
The spark for this diplomatic firestorm was ignited on Friday, September 26, 2025, when President Petro, fresh from addressing the United Nations General Assembly, appeared at a rally near Times Square. Draped in a kaffiyeh and wielding a megaphone, the Colombian leader made a series of provocative remarks. According to reporting by The City Paper Bogotá, Petro called on U.S. soldiers to “disobey” President Donald Trump and refuse to “point their rifles against humanity.” He went further, pledging to open enlistment for Colombians to fight in Gaza and urging nations to build an army “larger than that of the United States.”
The U.S. Department of State responded swiftly. Within hours, officials announced the revocation of Petro’s visa, citing what they described as “reckless and incendiary actions.” The move marked an extraordinary rebuke of a sitting head of state, signaling the Trump administration’s deep displeasure with Petro’s rhetoric and actions on U.S. soil.
Petro, back in Colombia, shrugged off the decision, dismissing its significance. On X (formerly Twitter), he declared that he “doesn’t care” about the visa, noting that he holds Italian citizenship and “can enter the U.S. without a visa.” This show of bravado set the tone for his cabinet’s response in the days that followed.
On Monday, September 29, 2025, Foreign Minister Rosa Villavicencio announced from Palacio San Carlos that she had “renounced” her own U.S. visa. In a pointed statement, Villavicencio declared, “Colombia is not interested in diplomatic visas that limit opinions or curtail sovereignty.” Her words were echoed by Finance Minister Germán Ávila, who posted on X, “To work for our people, we do not need visas. We will not bow before aggression.” Energy Minister Edwin Palma soon confirmed that his visa had also been revoked, responding with the terse remark: “Gaza well deserves a visa.” Angie Rodríguez, director of the presidential office (DAPRE) and a close aide to Petro, revealed her own visa had been canceled, adding to the growing list of officials now barred from entering the U.S.
At a cabinet meeting that same day, Rodríguez praised Petro, telling him, “Your words at the UN, President, were truth, dignity and courage. You are today a world-class leader. History will place you where you belong.” The entire cabinet then signed a statement backing Petro’s remarks in New York. The letter, as reported by The City Paper Bogotá, read: “Without hesitation, you denounced complicity in genocide in Gaza and the failure of the war on drugs. Your call shook the inertia of those who govern the world.”
These acts of solidarity, presented as voluntary renunciations or responses to revocations, have been framed by Petro’s government as demonstrations of sovereignty and principle. Yet the practical consequences for Colombia are significant and immediate. With the finance minister, foreign minister, energy minister, and senior presidential aides now unable (or unwilling) to travel to the United States, Colombia’s ability to conduct critical international business has been severely curtailed. As The City Paper Bogotá notes, the absence of key officials in Washington D.C. jeopardizes debt negotiations, access to multilateral lenders like the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Bank, and participation in investment roadshows and trade talks.
The timing could hardly be worse for Colombia. The country is grappling with weak economic growth, rising fiscal debt, and a deepening security crisis, with illegal armed groups retaining control over large swathes of territory. The Trump administration’s decision to place Colombia on a list of countries failing to meet commitments in the fight against drug trafficking has only added to the pressure. Now, with the top ranks of Petro’s government effectively shut out of Washington, Colombia’s access to the world’s most influential financial and diplomatic centers is diminished just when it is needed most.
This diplomatic standoff is not unfolding in isolation. It dovetails with Petro’s ongoing rupture with Israel, another key U.S. ally. In 2024, Petro severed diplomatic ties with Israel, accusing it of “genocide” in Gaza and drawing comparisons between its military campaign and the Holocaust. He has been a vocal supporter of South Africa’s case against Israel at the International Court of Justice and has repeatedly posed with maps depicting a Palestinian state replacing Israel. At the New York rally, Petro made his stance even more explicit, declaring, “If I need to go and join to serve [in Gaza], I will.”
In a further sign of Colombia’s pivot away from traditional allies, state-owned weapons manufacturer Indumil announced on September 29, 2025, that it had produced the first rifles designed to replace Israeli-made Galils, which have armed Colombia’s military for decades. Indumil manager Javier Carmago stated that the goal is to produce 400,000 new rifles within five years. “We will gradually replace current weapons in the armed forces,” he said, noting that the new arms are 15 to 25 percent lighter and cheaper to produce thanks to their steel and polymer construction.
For Petro and his supporters, the confrontation with Washington is being spun as a test of loyalty and a stand for national dignity. Ministers have closed ranks, framing the U.S. visa revocations as an affront to Colombia’s sovereignty rather than a diplomatic crisis. However, critics warn that this approach risks isolating Colombia at a moment when international support and access are vital. The inability of senior officials to engage directly with U.S. counterparts or participate in negotiations could undermine Colombia’s economic stability and international standing, especially given the country’s current challenges.
What began as the revocation of a single visa has now spiraled into a full-blown diplomatic standoff, with the fate of Petro’s cabinet—and potentially Colombia’s global relationships—hanging in the balance. Whether these renunciations are ultimately seen as acts of principle or miscalculation, the consequences for Colombia’s engagement with the United States and the wider world are already being felt.
As the dust settles, Colombia finds itself navigating a precarious path, caught between assertions of sovereignty and the hard realities of international diplomacy and economics.