Colombia has taken a decisive step in the ongoing global debate over animal welfare and cultural tradition. In a landmark ruling issued on September 5, 2025, the country’s Constitutional Court upheld Law 2385 of 2024, which not only bans bullfighting but also extends its reach to prohibit cockfighting, coleo, and corralejas—traditional pastimes that have long been woven into the nation’s cultural fabric. This sweeping decision, which follows months of heated discussion and years of activism, marks a pivotal moment for animal rights in Colombia and sets the stage for significant societal change.
It all began in May 2024, when Colombia’s Congress passed the original bullfighting ban after intense debate. Supporters of the legislation argued that killing animals for entertainment is out of step with modern values and the growing awareness of animal sentience. President Gustavo Petro, who signed the bill into law that July, summed up the sentiment with a forceful statement: “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.” According to Colombia One, Petro’s words captured the ethical crossroads at which Colombia now finds itself.
Yet, the law did not go unchallenged. Bullfighting enthusiasts and supporters of other traditional animal sports filed appeals, claiming the ban infringed on their rights to artistic expression. But the Constitutional Court, the nation’s highest judicial authority, rejected these arguments. On September 4, 2025, the court not only upheld the law but also expanded its scope, formally banning cockfighting and other activities previously spared from prohibition. The ruling struck down language that had exempted activities like coleo, corralejas, and cockfighting, bringing them under the same legal umbrella as bullfighting.
For many Colombians, this is a dramatic cultural shift. Bullfighting, or corridas de toros, has been practiced since Spanish colonial times, with variations such as rejoneo (bullfighting on horseback), novillada (novice bullfighters facing young bulls), becerrada (using calves), and tientas (testing young bulls) all deeply rooted in regional traditions. Corralejas, especially popular on the Caribbean Coast, are raucous public events where participants—sometimes with little training—enter the arena to taunt and evade bulls. The risks are real: a decade ago in Arjona, a bull killed two people and severely injured fifteen others, a tragedy that still lingers in public memory, as reported by Colombia One.
Coleo, another traditional sport from the Llanos region, involves skilled riders chasing cattle on horseback and attempting to topple them by pulling their tails. Cockfighting, meanwhile, is widespread across Colombia, with the Colombian Cockfighting Federation estimating that about 290,000 families rely on it for income and roughly one million enthusiasts participate nationwide. The Federation has been vocal in its opposition, arguing that cockfighting is “an important cultural tradition” and asking Congress to reconsider the ban. According to their statements, the prohibition threatens not only heritage but also the livelihoods of those who depend on the sport.
Despite these arguments, the Constitutional Court’s decision aligns Colombia with a growing international movement toward animal welfare. Only a handful of countries, such as France, Portugal, Mexico, Venezuela, Ecuador, and Peru, still allow bullfighting, and even there, regional bans are becoming more common. Animal rights advocates in Colombia have applauded the ruling, seeing it as part of a “broader societal shift balancing cultural traditions with animal welfare and ethics,” as noted by reports in Colombia One and other outlets.
The government, for its part, has emphasized that the transition away from these practices will be gradual. Recognizing the economic impact on communities that depend on bullfighting and cockfighting, the law provides a three-year period for professional and cultural transition. Bullfighting is set to be fully banned by 2027, while cockfighting will be phased out with complete enforcement by 2028. Officials have repeatedly stated that this transition period is intended to “allow affected communities to adjust gradually,” reflecting a commitment to both animal welfare and social stability.
But the ruling is not the end of the story. Supporters of the banned practices can still request that the Constitutional Court review its decision, though it remains uncertain whether further appeals will be successful. In the meantime, the debate continues to simmer. Critics argue that the bans represent an assault on cultural heritage, stripping communities of traditions that have defined local identities for generations. For many, these activities are not merely entertainment; they are rituals, celebrations, and sources of pride. As one cockfighting advocate told local media, “Cockfighting is a tradition that brings families and communities together. It’s part of who we are.”
On the other side, animal rights supporters see the decision as a necessary step toward a more humane and compassionate society. They point to the suffering inflicted on animals in these sports and argue that ethical progress sometimes requires difficult choices. “This is about aligning Colombian law with international standards on animal welfare,” a government spokesperson explained. “We are committed to modernizing our laws and protecting sentient beings.”
The debate touches on fundamental questions: How should societies balance respect for tradition with evolving ethical standards? What happens when cultural practices come into conflict with the rights of others—human or animal? And how can governments manage the economic fallout for those whose livelihoods are tied to practices that are no longer acceptable to the majority?
Public interest in bullfighting has been declining in Colombia for years, mirroring trends in other countries. Younger generations, in particular, seem less attached to the spectacle, and urban populations are increasingly sympathetic to animal welfare arguments. Nevertheless, the country’s rural regions and some urban enclaves remain strongholds of support for traditional animal sports. The coming years will likely see continued debate, adaptation, and perhaps even the emergence of new traditions to fill the void left by the bans.
For now, Colombia stands at a crossroads, having chosen to prioritize the welfare of animals over longstanding customs. The next three years will test the country’s ability to navigate this transition with empathy, pragmatism, and a willingness to find common ground between old and new values. As the dust settles, one thing is clear: the decision has set Colombia on a new path, one that will be watched closely by the world.
