BOGOTÁ — Hundreds of demonstrators gathered outside Colombia’s National Museum over the weekend, expressing outrage just days after the country’s far-right government ordered the systematic removal of a wide range of cultural objects addressing political violence, women’s rights, and LGBTQ+ history. The sweeping directive, which included the confiscation of a rainbow Pride flag, has drawn sharp comparisons to similar right-wing culture wars and executive actions seen internationally.
Inside the historic museum, visitors and staff confronted starkly altered gallery walls. Images captured by local patrons showed stripped-down exhibition spaces bearing the haunting silhouettes of dismantled pamphlets, photographs, and artifacts. Outside the institution’s main entrance, rows of police officers outfitted in heavy riot gear stood at the ready, deploying water cannons and stun grenades to suppress the swelling crowds of demonstrators who had come to voice their opposition to the government’s cultural crackdown.
The removals were carried out under the direct order of President Abelardo De La Espriella, who assumed office in August. Last week, approximately 30 artworks and historical artifacts were pulled from public view at the Museo Nacional de Colombia. The targeted pieces explicitly referenced LGBTQ+ and feminist movements, victims of state violence, and the pivotal "Acuerdo de Paz"—the landmark 2016 peace negotiations brokered between the Colombian government and the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, commonly known as the FARC.
Defending the administration’s actions, President De La Espriella stated that he had instructed Minister of Culture Paola Holguín to ensure that what he characterized as odes to terrorism were removed from public spaces. He explicitly invoked the name of Carlos Pizarro Leongómez, a former guerrilla commander who transitioned into mainstream politics and became one of three presidential candidates assassinated during the volatile election cycle of 1990.
Among the specific works withdrawn from public display was a photograph by Humberto Rincón Perfetti capturing a moment from an LGBTQ+ rights march, alongside a Pride flag that once belonged to activist Elizabeth Castillo. Museum officials also removed a pamphlet dedicated to women’s reproductive rights and historical ephemera addressing the targeted assassinations of both Pizarro Leongómez and leftist leader Bernardo Jaramillo Ossa, who belonged to the Patriotic Union Party.
Perhaps most symbolic among the removed items was a unique pen fashioned from a spent bullet shell, which had been utilized to formally sign the 2016 peace agreement with the FARC. Crafted by the Ministry of Education during the administration of then-President Juan Manuel Santos, the object bore a deeply resonant inscription: "Bullets wrote our past, education will write our future."
The government’s directive triggered swift and widespread condemnation from Colombia’s vibrant arts and cultural community. Over the weekend, the directors of six prominent modern art museums across the country united to publish a formal joint declaration expressing deep concern over the removal of the works and urgently calling on the culture minister to reverse course.
"Museums have the responsibility of allowing us to know the complexity of our history, including that which makes us uncomfortable, confronts us, or is difficult for us to acknowledge," read the statement. The declaration was signed by the directors of modern art institutions in Medellín, Bogotá, Cartagena, Barranquilla, and El Tolima, as well as the directors of the Museo El Rayo.
Beatriz López, the co-founder and artistic director of the Instituto de Visión gallery with outposts in Bogotá and New York, strongly denounced the silencing of historical perspectives that have long occupied the margins of the official national narrative. In a statement shared with the press, López emphasized the vital role that such artifacts play in preserving an honest historical record.

"May the objects return to a place where they can recover their voice, and may the museum once again be a space where history is not dictated but researched, shared, and kept open to questioning," López wrote.
When contacted for comment regarding the controversy, a representative for the Museo Nacional directed all media inquiries to the Ministry of Culture. The ministry subsequently pointed inquirers to statements published by Culture Minister Paola Holguín on the social media platform X. In her posts, Holguín argued that the national museum cannot be permitted to serve as an instrument of political indoctrination or as a hub for spreading biased versions of the nation’s history.
The objects targeted by the administration were largely housed within a specialized gallery dedicated to exploring Colombian social and political history. Inaugurated in 2019, the gallery is titled "Making Society" and was designed to examine complex processes of coexistence, resistance, and revindication within the country. Other affected items were drawn from a section dedicated to socially engaged printmaking and photography spanning the 1950s and 1960s, including works by late artists such as Antonio Caro—widely known for his subversive interventions into mass-media symbols like the Coca-Cola logo—and Luis Caballero, who achieved international renown for his evocative paintings of the male nude.
President De La Espriella, a former criminal defense lawyer, secured the presidency in August after defeating leftist senator Iván Cepeda by the narrowest electoral margin in Colombia’s recent political history. He campaigned on a staunchly conservative, anti-progressive agenda that mirrors broader right-wing populist rhetoric taking hold across Latin America, aligning ideologically with leaders such as El Salvador’s Nayib Bukele and Argentina’s Javier Milei.
Bogotá-based independent curator Jaime Cerón, who curated the city’s 2025 biennial, noted that the removal of these works from the national museum fits seamlessly into a broader pattern of state hostility toward the arts. In September, the Culture Ministry drew intense backlash from the creative sector when it abruptly suspended a long-running federal stimulus program that provided vital financial support for artists and cultural workers.
"The changes the Colombian government has made overall represent a setback for the cultural rights of communities that, throughout history, have been rendered invisible, marginalized, or censored," Cerón said.
At the same time, Cerón expressed a firm belief that De La Espriella’s heavy-handed directive would ultimately backfire. He pointed to a notable precedent in Medellín involving the mural titled "Las cuchas tienen razón" ("The mothers are right"), which honored women who spent years searching for their disappeared children following a brutal era of paramilitary conflict. When the local mayor ordered the mural to be whitewashed, local artists swiftly repainted it, and the titular phrase subsequently proliferated across walls, fences, and public spaces throughout the country with unprecedented fervor.
"Acts of censorship have become the most effective way to make what one wants to erase omnipresent and ultra-visible," Cerón observed.
Medellín-based artist Pablo A. Medina echoed this perspective, viewing the government’s actions as part of a futile campaign against the nation’s collective memory.
"This goes beyond a shameless act of censorship," Medina said. "It’s also an attempt to erase a history and culture that are an undeniable part of this country. But what they don’t realize is that what you try to erase only becomes stronger."