In early October, the National Museum of Colombia – a 19th-century landmark that houses more than 20,000 historical items – found its galleries suddenly stripped of dozens of pieces. The removed works included photographs of Pride marches, a rainbow flag donated by activist Elizabeth Castillo, a pen made from a bullet used to sign the 2016 peace accord, and pamphlets on women’s reproductive rights. The purge was carried out under a directive from President Abelardo De la Espriella who instructed Culture Minister Paola Holguín to eliminate what he called “political indoctrination” from public spaces.
The decision provoked an immediate outcry. On the weekend of 17-18 October, hundreds of citizens, students, and artists assembled outside the museum’s marble façade, holding reproductions of the taken-down objects and chanting against what they described as an attempt to rewrite Colombian history. Demonstrators argued that the erasure of LGBTQ, feminist and peace-process narratives represented a broader assault on collective memory and cultural rights.
Government decree and the empty galleries
President De la Espriella, a former criminal-defense lawyer with no prior legislative experience, signed a decree in early October that tasked the Ministry of Culture – recently renamed the Ministry of Art and Patrimony – with reviewing all exhibitions for “terrorist glorification.” The decree singled out roughly thirty artifacts linked to the left-wing political legacy, the 2016 Acuerdo de Paz with the FARC, and the LGBTQ+ movement. Among the withdrawn items were a photograph by Humberto Rincón Perfetti taken at a gay-rights rally, a banner commemorating the assassinations of guerrilla leaders Carlos Pizarro Leongómez and Bernardo Jaramillo Ossa, and a painting titled “Minería” by Antonio Caro that critiques extractive industries.
Curators at the museum reported that Culture Minister Holguín herself toured the “Making Society” and “Memory and Nation” sections on 15 October, annotating which pieces should be taken down. Normally, such decisions would involve the museum’s curatorial committee, but staff said the minister overrode standard procedures, leaving the galleries stark and silent. The move echoes earlier right-wing attempts in Latin America to sanitize public history, reminiscent of the “anti-woke” campaigns pursued by leaders in El Salvador and Argentina.
Public protests and police intervention
On Saturday, roughly 500 protesters gathered peacefully in front of the museum, some displaying hand-made replicas of the missing works. The crowd’s atmosphere shifted when riot police arrived equipped with water-cannons, stun-grenades and other crowd-control gear. Officers fired jets of water at demonstrators, causing several injuries and damaging a historic monument that stands beside the museum’s entrance. The following day, a second wave of protestors faced the same heavy-handed tactics, prompting criticism from human-rights groups who labeled the response “disproportionate” and “intimidatory.”
Senator María José Pizarro, daughter of the assassinated guerrilla commander Carlos Pizarro, condemned the police action, calling it “absurd and unjustified.” Former president Gustavo Petro denounced the removal as “censorship and looting of a museum,” while centrist ex-president Juan Manuel Santos reminded the public that the 2016 peace agreement is a cornerstone of national reconciliation that should not be erased. In the wake of the protests, the Permanent Committee on Human Rights announced plans to challenge the newly granted police powers that facilitate such forceful dispersals.
Cultural sector’s backlash and the broader debate
Leaders of six modern-art institutions across Colombia signed a joint declaration expressing “deep concern” over the decree and urging the Ministry of Culture to reverse the withdrawals. The statement highlighted the museum’s duty to present “the complexity of our history, including the uncomfortable parts.” Instituto de Visión co-founder Beatriz López called the action a silencing of voices that have long lived on the margins of official narratives, urging that the objects be returned to a space where they can “recover their voice.”
Independent curator Jaime Cerón noted that this is not an isolated incident; earlier in September the government suspended a federal stimulus program for artists, signaling a broader pattern of cultural repression. Yet Cerón predicted that the ban could backfire, citing the Medellín mural “Las cuchas tienen razón,” which was white-washed by authorities only to be repainted by artists and proliferate across the country. The current controversy may similarly amplify the very stories the administration seeks to suppress, turning the removed artifacts into symbols of resistance on Bogotá’s streets.
