
Beyond the “Tibet of South America”: Colombia and Middlepowermanship in the Early Cold War
Independent Researcher
RECIBIDO: 18 de octubre de 2025
ACEPTADO: 17 de febrero de 2026
MODIFICADO: 11 de marzo de 2026
https://doi.org/10.7440/colombiaint126.2026.05
ABSTRACT. Objective/context: This article reevaluates Colombia’s place in Latin American international history by challenging what we call the López–Drekonja thesis, which portrays the country as passive or as an “Andean Tibet.” It argues that, between 1950 and 1962, Colombia adopted a middlepowermanship role conception that helps explain its selective activism in international peace and security. Methodology: Using a structured, focused comparison (George and Bennett, 2004), the study integrates role theory (Holsti, 1970; Harnisch, 2011) with middle power scholarship. Two cases—Colombia’s participation in the Korean War and its diplomatic leadership in Cuba’s expulsion from the Organization of American States (OAS)—trace how three interrelated motivations (status-seeking, self-interest, and moralism/idealism) shaped role conception and performance. Conclusions: Both cases reveal agency despite structural constraints. In Korea, self-interest predominated, followed by moralism/idealism and status-seeking; in the “Cuban question,” the order was self-interest > status-seeking > moralism/idealism. Colombia pursued niche diplomacy and legalist multilateralism to punch above its weight, complicating materialist and dependency readings that assume automatic subordination to the United States. Originality: The article proposes a middlepowermanship role conception for a non-canonical Latin American case, linking identity and behavior without requiring explicit self-labeling as a “middle power.” It offers a theoretical–historical reinterpretation of a neglected period in Colombian foreign policy and extends role theory’s analytical scope to peripheral contexts.
KEYWORDS: foreign policy; role theory; middle powers; multilateralism; Korean War; Organization of American States.
Más allá del “Tíbet de América del Sur”: Colombia y el rol de potencia media en la Guerra Fría temprana
RESUMEN. Objetivo/contexto: Este artículo reevalúa el lugar de Colombia en la historia internacional latinoamericana y cuestiona lo que llamamos la tesis López–Drekonja, que presenta al país como pasivo o como un “Tíbet andino”. Argumenta que entre 1950 y 1962 Colombia adoptó una concepción de rol como potencia media (middlepowermanship) que ayuda a explicar su activismo selectivo en materia de paz y seguridad internacionales. Metodología: Mediante una comparación estructurada y focalizada (George y Bennett 2004), el estudio integra la teoría de roles (Holsti 1970; Harnisch 2011) y la literatura sobre potencias medias. Dos casos —la participación de Colombia en la Guerra de Corea y su liderazgo diplomático en la expulsión de Cuba de la Organización de los Estados Americanos (OEA)— muestran cómo tres motivaciones interrelacionadas (búsqueda de estatus, interés propio y moralismo/idealismo) moldearon la concepción y el desempeño del rol. Conclusiones: Ambos casos revelan agencia a pesar de las limitaciones estructurales. En Corea, predominó el interés propio, seguido del moralismo/idealismo y la búsqueda de estatus; en la “cuestión cubana”, el orden fue interés propio > búsqueda de estatus > moralismo/idealismo. Colombia recurrió a una diplomacia de nicho y un multilateralismo legalista para “estar por encima de su categoría”, matizando lecturas materialistas y de dependencia que presuponen una subordinación automática a Estados Unidos. Originalidad: El artículo propone una concepción de rol de potencia media para un caso latinoamericano atípico, vinculando identidad y comportamiento sin exigir una autodefinición como “potencia media”. Ofrece una reinterpretación teórico-histórica de un periodo poco explorado de la política exterior colombiana y amplía el alcance analítico de la teoría de roles a contextos periféricos.
PALABRAS CLAVE: política exterior; teoría de roles; potencias medias; multilateralismo; Guerra de Corea; Organización de los Estados Americanos.
Além do “Tibete da América do Sul”: Colômbia e a diplomacia de potência média no início da Guerra Fria
RESUMO. Objetivo/contexto: Este artigo reavalia o lugar da Colômbia na história internacional da América Latina ao desafiar o que chamamos “a tese de López-Drekonja”, que retrata o país como passivo ou como um “Tibete andino”. Argumenta-se que, entre 1950 e 1962, a Colômbia adotou uma concepção de papel de potência média (middlepowermanship) que ajuda a explicar seu ativismo seletivo na paz e na segurança internacionais. Metodologia: Utilizando uma comparação estruturada e focada (George e Bennett 2004), este estudo integra a teoria dos papéis (Harnisch 2011; Holsti 1970) com a literatura sobre potências médias. Dois casos — a participação da Colômbia na Guerra da Coreia e sua liderança diplomática na expulsão de Cuba da Organização dos Estados Americanos — mostram como três motivações inter-relacionadas (busca de status, interesse próprio e moralismo/idealismo) moldaram a concepção e o desempenho dos papéis. Conclusões: Ambos os casos revelam agência apesar das limitações estruturais. Na Coreia, predominou o interesse próprio, seguido pelo moralismo/idealismo e a busca de status; na “questão cubana”, a ordem era interesse próprio-busca de status-moralismo/idealismo. A Colômbia adotou uma diplomacia de nicho e um multilateralismo legalista para ampliar sua atuação, matizando leituras materialistas e dependentistas que assumem subordinação automática aos Estados Unidos. Originalidade: O artigo propõe uma concepção de papel de de potência média para um caso latino-americano não canônico, que vincula identidade e comportamento sem exigir autodefinição explícita como “potência média”. Oferece uma reinterpretação teórico-histórica de um período negligenciado na política externa colombiana e estende o escopo analítico da teoria dos papéis para contextos periféricos.
PALAVRAS-CHAVE: política externa; teoria dos papéis; potências médias; multilateralismo; Guerra da Coreia; Organização dos Estados Americanos.
Introduction: Why Colombia?
From the numerous factors that have contributed to the moulding of Colombia’s international relations and its foreign policy, none has been more significant than the persistent inability of consecutive governments to exercise more than limited influence over the economic, social, and political affairs of regional administrations, and their almost negligible influence in the shaping of international events.
— Espejo (1981, 321)
In 1980, former Colombian President Alfonso López Michelsen (1974–1978) claimed that “Colombia is the Tibet of South America” (López 1980, 93). For López, the trauma of Panama’s 1903 secession produced a political shock that left the country a passive, inward-looking actor throughout the twentieth century. His metaphor quickly became orthodoxy. As Drekonja observed, Panama’s loss “fostered a climate of historical introversion... [It] traumatized the nation, creating a fear of foreign policy and an atmosphere devoid of geopolitical competition or ambition” (1983a, 230). Subsequent scholars have echoed this interpretation: Botero endorsed the “Tibet analogy” to describe Colombia’s low international profile (1995, 50); Bagley asked whether this reflected “self-imposed dwarfism” (1982, cited in Drekonja, 1983b, 52).
This view, which dominates the disciplinary history of international relations (IR) and foreign policy analysis (FPA) in Colombia, has shaped much of the scholarship seeking to define the country’s external posture. Analysts frequently characterize Colombian foreign policy as “parochialist” (Carvajal 2009) and “reactive and improvised” (Molano 2010, 2). A substantial body of empirical research examines contemporary issues such as migration, relations with Venezuela, and peace diplomacy, yet most studies remain descriptive rather than theoretical (Cardona 2011).
This paradigm—what I propose to call the López–Drekonja thesis—captures some aspects of Colombia’s recent foreign policy, notably its securitization and close alignment with Washington since the late 1970s (Randall 1992; Tickner 2004; Hinojosa 2007). However, when applied too broadly, this interpretation may obscure episodes when Colombia acted more assertively abroad: although Colombia has lacked the material capacity to alter the global or regional order, this does not necessarily imply that it was always a peripheral or passive actor or, in López’s words, a “pawn of the Cold War” (Trejos Rosero 2015, 39).
Nevertheless, the historical record includes several episodes, particularly in the 1950s and 1960s, that contradict the dominant narrative. Two stand out: Colombia’s participation in the Korean War (1950–1953) and its leading role in the diplomatic campaign to expel Cuba from the Organization of American States (OAS) in 1961–1962. Both cases reveal a state seeking to play a visible role in world affairs despite limited material capabilities compared to other Latin American powers, such as Argentina, Mexico, and Brazil (Holbraad 1984, 87).
If Colombia’s foreign policy during this period was not passive, how can we explain its activism? The puzzle is that, despite structural constraints, Colombia “punched above its weight” on peace and security issues—behavior difficult to account for with materialist theories of IR. This article argues that these episodes can be more convincingly interpreted through the analytical lens of middlepowermanship and role theory.
The article hypothesizes that Colombia’s activism during this period can be understood, in part, as the product of a middlepowermanship role conception. In doing so, it seeks to help bridge a theoretical and historical gap in Colombian international studies: broadly speaking, existing research is divided between traditional diplomatic historians (Cavelier 1976; Ospina Sánchez 1988; Vázquez Carrizosa 2000; Ghotme 2007) and scholars who have reproduced the López–Drekonja thesis without interrogating its empirical validity. As Pardo and Tokatlian (1988, 100) note, the foreign policy of the 1950s–1960s remains underexplored, despite its influence on later shifts toward Respice Similia—a policy of South–South cooperation and diplomatic diversification (Tokatlian 2000, 37; González Arana 2004, 265–266).
Few works have explicitly applied IR theory to Colombia’s foreign policy. Exceptions include Arenas (2009), who used constructivism to analyze Panama’s secession, and Rosen (2013), who combined realism, liberalism, and constructivism to interpret Plan Colombia. Yet these remain isolated efforts. Realist assumptions about hierarchy and constraint—dominant in the López–Drekonja lineage—have marginalized analyses of agency. As early as 1988, Pardo and Tokatlian lamented that “strictly speaking, there is only one work of theoretical significance... that of Gerhard Drekonja” (1988, 50).
Three decades later, little has changed. As Borda and Tickner observe, “in Colombia, as in many other developing countries, intellectual production on International Relations theory has been marginal” (2011, 37). Theoretical scarcity persists, especially in FPA, a deficit shared across Latin American scholarship (Atkins 2001, 2). Compounding this, Latin America continues to receive limited attention within the Northern-dominated discipline of IR (Horwitz and Bagley 2016, 215).
By examining an underexplored period in an understudied country, this article contributes to a more nuanced understanding of why states sometimes adopt roles that seem incongruent with their material capabilities. As Patience argues, it is essential to examine “how states imagine themselves—as great, small or middle powers—and how significant others perceive that imagining” (2014, 211).
International relations scholarship has long debated what constitutes a middle power (Keohane 1969; Holbraad 1984; Cooper, Higgott, and Nossal 1993). Material definitions classify middle powers by capabilities that fall between those of great and small powers. Yet a substantial body of literature has instead emphasized behavior: middle powers are not only states of intermediate size but also states that pursue distinctive diplomatic strategies in international politics.
From this behavioral perspective, two traits recur. First, middle powers engage in niche diplomacy, concentrating resources on specific issue-areas where they can exert influence disproportionate to their material capabilities (Cooper 1997). Second, they tend to favor multilateralism, legalism, and cooperative solutions, often presenting themselves as responsible or constructive international actors (Cooper 2015). The difficulty, however, is that such definitions risk tautology: states are labeled middle powers because they behave like middle powers, and that behavior is then explained by the label itself (Stairs 1998).
To address this problem, this article draws on role theory, which helps explain why states adopt particular foreign policy patterns. Roles are “social positions” defined by ego and alter expectations about an actor’s purpose in an organized setting (Harnisch 2011, 8). In foreign policy analysis, this means that behavior is shaped not only by material constraints but also by how decision-makers understand their state’s appropriate place and function in international affairs. Holsti’s (1970) distinction between national role conception and role performance is especially useful here: the former refers to policymakers’ beliefs about the roles their state should play, while the latter refers to the actual foreign policy behavior through which those beliefs are enacted.
This article conceptualizes middlepowermanship not as an objective rank in the international hierarchy but as a national role conception. More specifically, it denotes a self-understanding in which decision-makers view their country as an activist yet non-hegemonic actor capable of exerting influence through selective international engagement, multilateral diplomacy, and legalist or norm-based claims. In this sense, middlepowermanship is less a fixed status than a way of imagining and performing international agency under conditions of limited material power.
Recent scholarship has shown that foreign policy activism resembling middle power behavior can emerge outside traditional Western cases and without explicit self-identification as a “middle power” (Hamill and Lee 2001; Jordaan 2003; Shin 2016). What matters, then, is not whether Colombian elites used that exact label, but whether they conceived and enacted a role consistent with that style of international conduct.
Following Neack (2008), three motivational sources are treated here as especially relevant to this role conception: status-seeking, self-interest, and moralism/idealism. Status-seeking denotes the pursuit of prestige, recognition, and diplomatic standing. Self-interest is the pursuit of strategic, domestic, or material advantages. Moralism/idealism refers to the claim that the state is acting in defense of broader principles or international goods. These motivations are not mutually exclusive; rather, they interact in varying proportions across foreign policy episodes.
On this basis, the article argues that Colombia’s activism during the Korean War and in the campaign to expel Cuba from the OAS can be understood as instances of middlepowermanship role performance. In both cases, Colombian decision-makers sought to project influence beyond the country’s material weight through multilateral institutions and by selectively engaging in international peace and security. The argument is not that Colombia was a middle power in any fixed material sense, but that its leaders, under specific historical conditions, enacted a middlepowermanship role conception that helps explain its foreign policy activism during the early Cold War.
Because Colombian foreign policy during this period was heavily concentrated in the executive branch, the analysis focuses primarily on the ego dimension of role construction: how presidents and their close advisers understood Colombia’s international role and justified their actions.
The alter dimension—how other actors recognized, acknowledged, or contested those claims—is acknowledged but not systematically reconstructed here. The result is a framework that links identity and behavior while avoiding both material reductionism and the assumption that peripheral states are necessarily passive in international politics. Future research could explore the dynamic between ego and alter and how external recognition (or denial) by major powers (particularly the United States and the Soviet Union), regional peers, or international institutions reinforces or constrains Colombia’s self-ascribed roles. This approach would enable a more relational understanding of how roles evolve over time, across issue areas, and amid leadership transitions.
Following George and Bennett (2004), this study adopts a structured, focused comparison method that applies a common analytical framework to multiple cases. Each episode of Colombian foreign policy is examined by asking: how salient were the three motivational determinants—status-seeking, self-interest, and moralism/idealism—in shaping the middlepowermanship role conception and its corresponding foreign policy behavior?
Primary and secondary sources, including official documents, presidential speeches, and diplomatic records, are analyzed to illustrate decision-making processes and to contextualize executive choices. The focus is on role conception and performance rather than on operational or military outcomes.
Given the executive branch’s predominance in Colombian foreign policy, these roles were largely shaped and enacted by presidents, their close advisers, and the ministers of foreign affairs. The country’s institutional design—combined with a weak bureaucratic apparatus for foreign policy formulation and a political culture that privileges presidential decision-making (Thiers 2025)—supports selecting the executive as the principal unit of analysis. Accordingly, the case studies examined correspond to two episodes of foreign policy activism that occurred during the administrations of Laureano Gómez (1950–1953) and Alberto Lleras Camargo (1958–1962).
The following sections apply this framework to two cases: Colombia’s decision to send troops to the Korean War (1950–1951) and its diplomatic leadership in expelling Cuba from the OAS (1961–1962). Together, these cases reveal the emergence of a middlepowermanship role that allowed Colombia to pursue an activist foreign policy on international security issues despite its structural/material limitations.
To understand the emergence of this role conception, it is necessary to situate Colombian foreign policy within the broader domestic and international context of the early Cold War.
Between 1903 and 1950, Colombia’s foreign policy focused on consolidating territorial boundaries through negotiated treaties, normalizing relations with the United States after Panama’s secession—formalized by the Urrutia–Thomson Treaty in 1921—and participating in emerging hemispheric and multilateral frameworks that emphasized non-intervention and the peaceful settlement of disputes. Colombian diplomacy during this period privileged legalistic and institutional mechanisms, seeking stability through arbitration, treaty-making, and economic development (Cepeda Ulloa and Pardo García-Peña 1989).
Aside from the brief 1932–1933 conflict with Peru over Leticia, the country played a limited geopolitical role: it remained neutral during World War I (Rausch 2014) and, although politically aligned with the Allies in World War II, contributed only modestly in terms of military deployments or direct engagements. The onset of the Cold War and the consolidation of a bipolar international system coincided with rising domestic instability. The long-standing rivalry between the Liberal and Conservative parties—historically moderated by a legal–constitutional tradition (Posada C. 2006)—escalated after Mariano Ospina Pérez’s Conservative victory in 1946 and reached a breaking point with the assassination of Liberal leader Jorge Eliécer Gaitán in April 1948.
The event triggered widespread unrest and inaugurated the period known as La Violencia, marked by massive, state-tolerated violence across Colombia and an estimated quarter of a million victims (LaRosa and Mejía 2012, 101). In this context of domestic conflict and global ideological polarization, fears of communist expansion and the United States’ military and economic supremacy in the Western Hemisphere encouraged Colombian presidents to frame internal unrest through anti-communist discourse and to progressively align the country’s foreign policy with that of Washington.
A concrete manifestation of this alignment was Colombia’s participation in the Korean War. Until that moment, Colombian military history had no precedent for deploying troops beyond the Americas. Throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the international conflicts involving Colombia had been limited in scope, regional in character, and relatively short-lived, fought primarily against neighboring states along its borders (Ecuador and Peru).
“Fighting the Universal Enemy”1: The Korean War
When Laureano Gómez assumed the presidency unopposed in 1950, he faced a country beset by economic constraints and severe political instability. Colombia remained heavily dependent on commodity exports, while domestically it was immersed in civil conflict. As Henderson notes, Conservatives interpreted the conflict as “another face of Liberal rebellion against the legal, democratically elected regimes of Ospina and Gómez” (2001, 350). In contrast, Gómez himself framed it as part of a broader ideological struggle against communism.
Against this backdrop, Colombia’s decision to participate militarily in a distant conflict appears striking. However, the government chose to contribute forces to the Korean War. As Edwards records, “Colombia provided a frigate, the Almirante Padilla, and the First Colombian Battalion, the only Latin American ground unit to fight in Asia… they suffered 134 casualties” (2010, 67).
I argue that Gómez’s decision reflected a particular middlepowermanship role conception shaped by varying combinations of status-seeking, self-interest, and moralism/idealism. While participation in the Korean War offered a highly visible demonstration of Colombia’s alignment with the United States and the emerging anti-communist order, Gómez also had other instruments available to signal such alignment, including stronger anti-communist legislation, deeper military cooperation with Washington, or even offering the United States access to military facilities in Colombian territory as part of hemispheric defense arrangements. Nonetheless, participation in the war provided a strong signal of Colombia’s commitment to the nascent Western bloc.
According to Larson, Paul, and Wohlforth, status refers to “beliefs about a given state’s ranking on valued attributes—wealth, coercive capabilities, culture, demographic position, socio-political organisation, and diplomatic clout” (2014, 7). Gómez believed that Colombia’s participation in Korea could elevate its diplomatic standing within the United Nations, even if that was not his primary motivation.
On October 17, 1950, Colombian diplomats in New York informed Secretary-General Trygve Lie about Gómez’s desire to demonstrate “Colombia’s solidarity with the cause of the United States and the United Nations” by providing a battalion (Coleman 2008, 83). Gómez viewed the gesture as a way to present Colombia as a responsible contributor to collective security—especially because no other Latin American country had volunteered troops.
This aspiration was widely publicized. Speaking before the United Nations General Assembly on September 26, 1950, Colombian ambassador Roberto Urdaneta Arbeláez declared that participating in Korea would demonstrate Colombia’s commitment to collective security and international legality, thereby presenting the country as a responsible member of the emerging postwar order:
Colombia’s position on this momentous issue cannot be one of hesitation... Accepting the decision of the Security Council to come to Korea’s defense—even through the use of arms—and recognizing that all member states of the Organization must cooperate in this effort, Colombia informed the Secretary-General, in response to his July 14 telegram, that it was prepared to faithfully fulfill its international commitments, whatever sacrifices this might entail. Acting accordingly, it has just placed at the disposal of the United Nations Unified Command a frigate with its sailors, non-commissioned officers, and officers, who stand ready to depart for the battlefield, willing to sacrifice themselves alongside their comrades from other nations in the cause of the United Nations. Colombia sees its young men depart with sorrow, yet, at the same time, with deep satisfaction, for they go to fulfill their duty. (Urdaneta Arbeláez 2021, 105)
Coleman argues that Gómez’s belief in multilateral defense shaped his decision: “North Korea launched an unprovoked invasion… other sovereign countries had a duty to respond. Ever since Bolívar’s drive for a Pan-American federation in 1826, Colombians had compiled an impressive record of support for multilateralism” (2008, 86). Similarly, Ramsey observes that Gómez’s decision both signaled support for the UN and improved Colombia’s global image (1967, 559–560).
Decree No. 323 of 1950, which authorized participation, explicitly stated that “the Colombian State, true to its commitments and obligations under international treaties, offers to the United Nations its assistance in personnel and materiel” (Rodríguez Hernández 2004, 100). Thus, Gómez sought prestige through international legality and multilateral cooperation—projecting Colombia as a state faithful to its word and to Western principles.
Nevertheless, while the desire for status influenced Gómez’s reasoning, it appears secondary to more pragmatic motivations rooted in domestic and bilateral politics.
Gómez’s decision to send troops abroad can also be read through the lens of self-interest. In his inaugural address, he praised the U.S. effort to “save civilization” but avoided committing Colombian soldiers (Coleman 2008, 80). Only later, on November 14, 1950, did the Colombian ambassador in Washington formally notify Secretary of State Dean Acheson that Colombia would contribute 1,080 troops—provided they were adequately equipped (Valencia Tovar 2001, 199–200).
As Valencia Tovar (2001, 225) and Urán (1986, 68) observe, the decision served domestic purposes. By exporting conflict abroad, Gómez could redirect national attention away from La Violencia. Many volunteers were Liberals seeking to escape domestic turmoil (Urán 1986). Gómez made this commitment without consulting the Army, underscoring the political—rather than military—nature of the move. This logic parallels the diversionary war hypothesis (Cashman 2004, 200), in which foreign ventures serve to consolidate domestic authority.
At the same time, Gómez sought to repair his strained relations with Washington. His long-standing hostility toward “Yankee imperialism” (Sáenz Rovner 2002, 33) and the U.S. role in Panama’s secession had made American officials wary of him (Henderson 2001, 273). U.S. media portrayed him as “an incendiary right-wing zealot, an admirer of Franco and Fascism” (Time, April 1950, cited in Sáenz Rovner 2002, 40). Hoping to counter this image, Gómez hired an American public-relations firm and instructed Colombia’s ambassador to court The New York Times.
Gómez paired his troop offer with requests for U.S. arms and credit lines to fight domestic insurgents. As Atehortúa Cruz documents, Colombia requested USD 3 million in weapons in 1952 but refused to reimburse U.S. maintenance costs for its Korean contingent (2008, 68–69). Negotiations between Colombian representatives and U.S. officials covered logistical support, training, and financial arrangements for deploying the Colombian battalion to Korea.
These discussions linked Colombia’s contribution to expectations of military assistance and equipment to strengthen the country’s armed forces, as evidenced by a letter dated November 2, 1950, from the Secretary of Defense to the Secretary of State, urging the United States to “discontinue efforts to obtain contingents from Latin America, with the exception of the Colombian offer.” He states: “I have been informed that negotiations with Colombia have proceeded so far that a cancellation of the Colombian offer at this time would be mutually embarrassing to both Governments. I therefore suggest that they be continued with a view to stimulating early Colombian participation in Korea” (Marshall 1950).
When U.S. aid lagged, Colombia even threatened to withdraw its forces from Korea; eventually, it received landmines for use against guerrillas. A U.S. position paper from September 1952 illustrates the financial tensions that arose after Colombian forces were fully deployed in Korea. Although Colombia initially acknowledged its obligation to reimburse the United States for training and logistical support, the Colombian ambassador later argued that his government could cover only the salaries and benefits of its personnel but not broader operational costs (Department of State 1952).
In conversations with U.S. officials, the ambassador also suggested that, in the absence of financial relief, Colombia might be forced to withdraw its forces from Korea or temporarily redeploy the battalion to address internal security challenges. U.S. officials interpreted these remarks as a form of diplomatic pressure to secure concessions on reimbursement, while recognizing that the continued presence of Colombian troops in the Korean theater was politically valuable to the United States (Department of State 1952).
Urán encapsulates this rationale: “The most important cause of Colombia’s participation in Korea was to unequivocally express goodwill toward the United States […]. But it was not a free gesture; it had a precise purpose—to request military materiel to maintain public order” (1986, 69).
Thus, rather than passive subordination to U.S. dictates—as posited by the López–Drekonja thesis—Colombia’s participation was an act of strategic pragmatism, intended to trade soldiers for arms and international legitimacy. Gómez sought to leverage alignment to secure tangible domestic gains.
The third component of Gómez’s role conception was moralism/idealism, understood as the conviction that Colombia had a duty to defend civilization from the “communist menace.” Neack defines this as a state’s “sense of duty to do good in the world” (2008, 164), though such sentiments may not be widely shared domestically (Brummer and Thies 2015).
Gómez’s fierce anti-communism—grounded in his Catholic faith—imbued his politics with an ideological fervor unmatched even within his Conservative Party (Valencia Tovar 2001, 225). Safford and Palacios describe his regime as “a peculiar version of the authoritarianism of Franco and Salazar” (2002, 351). He portrayed Liberals as “a basilisk… with feet of confusion and stupidity, legs of brutality, and a tiny communist head” (Martz 1969, 125).
In Gómez’s worldview, communism was the culmination of centuries of moral decay:
The problems of the West began when Luther posted his theses on the door of Wittenberg Cathedral… the conspiratorial plan hatched by the Jews led Western society to the French Revolution… the result was Communism, the legitimate son of Protestantism, Rationalism, Liberalism, and the French Revolution (Gómez c. 1945, quoted in Nieto Rojas 1956, 73).
Coleman characterizes him as “a radical anticommunist who believed that Communism threatened Christian civilization” (2008, 86). Accordingly, Gómez viewed the Korean War as an eschatological battle—communism versus Christianity. In his words,
the United States is sending the best of its youth to fight to protect sovereignty, independence, and dignity, all under siege by the communist menace… My spirit would not be satisfied were I not to express admiration for this heroic effort to save civilization (Gómez 1950, cited in Atehortúa Cruz 2008, 64).
For Gómez, participation in the Korean War was framed not merely as a strategic decision but as a moral and even spiritual duty. His rhetoric often invoked crusading language, helping to justify the apparent paradox of sending troops overseas while a civil war raged at home. In his farewell address to Batallón Colombia, he cast the conflict in explicitly civilizational terms, presenting the war as part of a broader struggle between Christian civilization and atheistic communism. As he declared at the battalion’s send-off:
Soldiers of the Batallón Colombia: You depart to fight in distant lands in defense of freedom and justice. The homeland watches you with pride and expects you to honor the mission entrusted to you… Colombia sends you as representatives of its military tradition, its devotion to justice, and its faith in the ideals of Christian civilization… May the courage that has always distinguished Colombian soldiers be your shield, and may the name of Colombia stand high on the fields of Korea. (El Siglo 1951)
This discourse echoed the strongly anti-communist worldview of Gómez and his political movement, which framed the Korean conflict as a defense of the Christian West against communist expansion. For the president, fighting in Korea was both a moral duty and a divine mission.
Leading in the “Colonial Ministry”: The Cuban Problem
Between the presidencies of Gómez and Lleras Camargo, Colombia experienced a brief military dictatorship under General Gustavo Rojas Pinilla (1953–1956). Rojas Pinilla maintained Colombia’s commitments to the Korean War and continued the country’s activist and functionalist foreign policy, even dispatching troops to the Suez Canal in 1956.
When Rojas Pinilla refused to step down, the two traditional parties—led by Gómez and Lleras, respectively—allied with dissident military officers to oust him. The subsequent settlement, known as the National Front, was a “gentlemen’s pact” (Wilde 1978) between Liberals and Conservatives to alternate the presidency every four years from 1958 to 1974. This arrangement, endorsed by a 1957 plebiscite, pacified the country but entrenched elite control over political life.
The National Front’s institutional rigidity ensured the Presidency’s dominance in foreign policy decision-making. Bushnell attributes the “fundamental consistency of Colombian foreign policy” to this “interlocking elite” structure, in which a small circle of political and economic actors exerted disproportionate influence (1975, 412)—a pattern that persists in Colombian diplomacy to this day.
Lleras’s administration inaugurated the National Front and soon faced a major hemispheric transformation: the 1959 Cuban Revolution. Under Lleras, Colombia became one of Washington’s most reliable allies in containing the spread of Castroism in the region. The campaign culminated in 1962, when, at Colombia’s initiative, Cuba was expelled from the OAS.
Although a full diplomatic reconstruction of this episode is beyond the scope of this article, the case nonetheless illustrates a second instance of Colombian activism consistent with a middlepowermanship role conception. Under Lleras’s leadership, Colombia not only aligned with the United States but also helped shape the multilateral response through the OAS—the very institution Lleras had previously helped create and later led as its first Secretary-General (1948–1954).
This section analyzes Lleras’s role conception and performance through the same tripartite framework of status-seeking, self-interest, and moralism/idealism.
Like Gómez’s intervention in Korea, Lleras’s activism during the Cuban crisis reflected concern for Colombia’s international status, particularly within the Inter-American system. He saw the OAS as a vehicle for Colombia to project leadership and demonstrate commitment to hemispheric multilateralism.
As former Secretary-General of the OAS, Lleras identified personally with the organization’s institutional legitimacy. He believed that Colombia could serve as a bridge between the United States and more skeptical Latin American governments, including Argentina, Brazil, and Mexico. In a letter to Argentine President Arturo Frondizi on December 23, 1961, Lleras warned: “If the Inter-American system fails to isolate Castro and reduce his dangerousness and bellicosity, public opinion in the United States will pressure its government, with the help of the Pentagon, to abandon its international commitments” (Lleras Camargo 1961, quoted in Tirado 1998, 116).
The Cuban Memorandum, sent by Lleras to Colombia’s embassies in Washington and the OAS in April 1961, outlined two proposals: (a) prompt definition of a U.S. aid program for Latin America; and (b) collective consideration, under the Inter-American Treaty of Reciprocal Assistance (TIAR), of “evident threats to the peace of the Americas issuing from the present situation” (Lleras Camargo 1961, quoted in Caballero Argáez 2014, 36).
After the failed Bay of Pigs invasion (April 1961), Lleras intensified his diplomatic campaign. He met with President Kennedy and instructed his foreign minister to visit every South American capital to garner support for a collective rather than a unilateral response to Cuba. As Turbay Ayala records, these missions sought to “explain why measures should be taken through the OAS, not by the United States alone” (1961, 174–175).
By January 1962, Colombia circulated what became known as the “Lleras Initiative,” a draft resolution declaring Cuba incompatible with the Inter-American system and recommending its exclusion. The motion passed with 14 votes in favor, 6 abstentions, and only Cuba voting against it (Caballero Argáez 2014, 46).
Colombian diplomatic documents from 1962 suggest that Bogotá deliberately framed the Cuban question as a collective hemispheric responsibility rather than a unilateral initiative. Minister José Joaquín Caicedo Castilla argued that adopting a collective procedure was necessary to preserve the effectiveness of the Inter-American system and prevent individual states from acting independently in ways that could produce undesirable outcomes. In this view, collective action was presented as the true defense of the principle of non-intervention, since, without it, countries would remain free to impose their interests through unilateral measures (referring to the Soviet Union).
He rejected claims that Colombia’s position had been inspired by Washington, insisting instead that it reflected a longstanding national policy aimed at strengthening regional association among American states. From this perspective, raising the Cuban issue before the hemisphere was portrayed as fulfilling “an elevated duty of American solidarity,” particularly given that thirteen countries in the region had already severed diplomatic relations with Cuba, underscoring the gravity of the situation.
All of this, in Caicedo Castilla’s words, followed the guidance of President Alberto Lleras Camargo, whom he described as the “architect, guide, and director” of Colombia’s foreign policy, whose experience, prudence, and moral authority had been decisive in shaping the country’s international action (1962).
Jamison, an American diplomat present at Lleras’s December 1961 meeting with Kennedy, later recalled that “it was unsurprising that President Lleras perceived the situation as he did, indicating his willingness to assume the leadership of an inter-American collective effort… [He was] one of the authentic internationalists of the post-war world” (Jamison 1980, quoted in Caballero Argáez 2014, 46). Nieto likewise describes Lleras as “highly appreciated in Washington and among Latin American elites… the architect of the OAS” (2003, 183).
In essence, Lleras’s leadership was both institutional and personal. The OAS’s credibility—often derided as the “colonial ministry” of the United States (Nieto 2003, 79)—was at stake, as was Lleras’s own reputation. His activism served to reinforce Colombia’s image as a multilateral, norm-abiding middle power, even within a system structurally dominated by Washington.
While prestige and institutional loyalty played important roles, Lleras’s diplomacy was also shaped by clear self-interest. He viewed the Cuban crisis as an opportunity to secure economic and political benefits for Colombia.
Central to this strategy was the Alliance for Progress, a U.S.-led initiative launched in 1961 to address Latin America’s chronic poverty and inequality. Lleras had long advocated a “Marshall Plan for Latin America” (Darnton 2012), urging comprehensive development aid to forestall revolutionary upheavals. His close ties to both Kennedy and Brazilian President Juscelino Kubitschek facilitated his influence in shaping the Alliance’s framework (Taffet 2007; Caballero Argáez 2014, 20).
Supporting the United States at the OAS thus aligned with Lleras’s goal of ensuring Colombia’s access to Alliance for Progress funds. Between 1961 and 1965, Colombia received approximately USD 833 million—among the highest amounts in the region (Coleman 2008, 199); as Taffet notes, “Colombian backing for U.S. foreign policy objectives increased Washington’s willingness to offer substantial aid” (2007, 153–154).
These funds were vital to the National Front’s nation-building project, which sought rural pacification, social reform, and reconstruction after La Violencia. Lleras channeled much of this aid into U.S.-endorsed programs for gradual land reform, rural credit, and counterinsurgency (Henderson 2001, 391).
In Lleras’s political logic, economic development and diplomatic alignment were mutually reinforcing. Containing Castroism in the region would consolidate domestic order in Colombia. As Caballero Argáez notes, Lleras’s strategy sought to preserve “the spirit of the Alliance for Progress” (2014, 33) as a liberal alternative to Marxist revolution.
Colombian officials presented development programs associated with the Alliance—such as housing construction and the expansion of primary education, both financed with U.S. assistance—as evidence that reformist cooperation could deliver tangible social benefits to the most vulnerable sectors of society. At the same time, they portrayed the Cuban regime as a destabilizing force determined to exploit political divisions across the hemisphere in service of “an international party and an imperialist power from another continent.” Within this framework, containing Castroism and participation in the inter-American security system were justified not only as foreign policy measures but also as essential steps to safeguard national independence and reinforce a reformist, anti-communist development model at home (Caicedo Castilla 1962, 74-75).
Cuba’s refusal to sign the Declaration of Punta del Este (August 1961), which formalized the Alliance’s governance structure, further justified its exclusion from the OAS (Tirado 1998). Moreover, Colombia’s resolution supporting the Alliance was approved immediately before the expulsion vote (OAS 1962), revealing how Lleras strategically linked development aid and anti-communist diplomacy. In his own words, “If a better way of life could not be available to the people, an ‘explosion’ was inevitable” (quoted in Williams 2012, 201).
By leading a campaign against Cuba, Lleras sought to secure Colombia’s privileged position in the hemispheric hierarchy—as a loyal ally, a reformist model, and an effective interlocutor between North and South. His diplomacy thus embodied middlepowermanship as pragmatic leadership that served both domestic stability and international recognition.
Lleras’s foreign policy, though pragmatic, was also shaped by moral and ideological convictions. Disdainful of Castro, he regarded the Cuban Revolution not as a liberation movement but as a betrayal of democratic ideals. As Nieto recounts, Lleras told the U.S. Ambassador that Castro’s victory was akin to “the bandit known as ‘Mariachi’ becoming President of Colombia” (2003, 182).
For Lleras, “revolution” did not mean violent upheaval but rather a progressive transformation within constitutional and liberal frameworks. In his 1963 Foreign Affairs article, he insisted that true revolution entailed “an authentic change in way of life and a sudden speeding up of economic expansion”—not “austerity, privation, and misery” as in the Soviet model (Lleras Camargo 1963, 32–33).
In speeches delivered in the early years of the National Front, Lleras repeatedly contrasted constitutional reform with revolutionary violence, arguing that social change in Latin America had to proceed through democratic institutions rather than armed struggle. In a 1959 message to Congress, he emphasized that the survival of the democratic order depended on its active practice and the expansion of opportunities for all citizens, insisting that “democracy is defended by practicing it” (Lleras Camargo 1959).
He hailed the Alliance for Progress as a “revolutionary event… a stunning example of reciprocal cooperation, unprecedented in world politics” (Lleras Camargo 1961, quoted in Caballero Argáez 2014, 40). This moral framing positioned Colombia as a champion of reformist internationalism: anti-communist yet socially conscious, aligning moral principle with pragmatic development.
In defending his stance against Cuban accusations of betrayal, Lleras carefully distinguished between Cuba as a nation and Castro’s regime. Responding to Castro’s denunciations in December 1961, he stated:
We have not broken relations with Cuba. We have suspended the current relations with Castro’s regime. He himself made them impossible… The reason for this rupture lies in the insults made to Colombia by Cuba’s Prime Minister (Lleras Camargo 1961, quoted in Tirado 1998, 120).
This nuance underscored Colombia’s adherence to international norms and civility—a hallmark of middle power diplomacy. For Lleras, the struggle against Castroism was not only geopolitical but also moral: a defense of hemispheric civility against revolutionary barbarism.
A comparison of the two cases reveals striking continuities in how Colombian leaders exercised middlepowermanship despite different domestic and international contexts. Both Gómez and Lleras Camargo operated under severe structural constraints: Colombia remained economically dependent on commodity exports, politically unstable, and materially weaker than major regional powers. Yet in both episodes, the presidency sought to turn these constraints into opportunities for international visibility. Gómez did so through military participation in the Korean War, while Lleras pursued diplomatic leadership in the campaign to expel Cuba from the OAS. In each case, multilateral institutions—the United Nations in Korea and the OAS during the Cuban crisis—served as arenas through which Colombia could amplify its voice and project influence disproportionate to its capabilities.
The motivational structure underlying these actions also displays important similarities. In both cases, the hierarchy of motives placed self-interest at the forefront, followed by status considerations and moral framing. Gómez used participation in the Korean War to secure military aid, rehabilitate relations with Washington, and divert attention from the domestic conflict of La Violencia. Lleras similarly leveraged Colombia’s leadership during the Cuban crisis to secure economic assistance through the Alliance for Progress and to strengthen the National Front’s domestic reform agenda. While both leaders framed their actions in moral and ideological terms—defending “civilization” against communism in Gómez’s rhetoric and protecting democratic reform from Castroism in Lleras’s discourse—these moral claims were closely intertwined with pragmatic calculations about domestic stability and access to external resources.
Despite these commonalities, the two episodes also illustrate distinct modalities of middle power behavior. Gómez’s strategy relied primarily on military contributions and symbolic sacrifice, sending troops to a distant theater of war to demonstrate commitment to the Western bloc. By contrast, Lleras exercised diplomatic entrepreneurship, mobilizing the Inter-American system to build consensus around Cuba’s exclusion.
The contrast suggests that middlepowermanship for developing states does not depend on a single type of instrument; rather, it can take different forms of activism—military or diplomatic—depending on available resources and political circumstances. Taken together, the cases show that Colombia’s foreign policy during the early Cold War was neither passive nor purely reactive but reflected an effort by presidential elites to leverage multilateral institutions and ideological alignment to pursue status, material benefits, and international recognition.
Conclusion
In general, the history of Colombian foreign policy is an uneventful one.
— Kline (1995, 116)
Muñoz’s observation that Latin American foreign policy and international relations are shaped by three dominant themes—the pursuit of autonomy, development, and the relationship with the United States—finds support in the analysis presented here (Muñoz 1996, 3). The two case studies examined in this article illustrate how these structural concerns intersected with domestic political dynamics and leadership decisions, shaping Colombia’s behavior during the early Cold War.
However, by conceptualizing middlepowermanship as a role conception composed of variable yet interconnected motivational sources that produce specific patterns of role performance, this article has sought to offer an alternative lens for interpreting episodes in Colombian foreign policy. By integrating role theory into the study of Colombian diplomacy, the study challenges the dominant López–Drekonja thesis, which has long framed Colombia as a “Tibet of South America”: introverted, traumatized by Panama’s loss, and structurally condemned to diplomatic passivity.
Drawing on historical cases such as the Korean War and Cuba’s expulsion from the OAS, the article argues that, despite limited material resources, Colombia demonstrated moments of purposeful engagement. It adopted a middlepowermanship role that combined self-interest, status-seeking, and moralism/idealism in varying proportions. The analysis thus repositions Colombia within the broader discussion of Latin American international relations—not as a marginal or passive actor, but as a state capable of shaping, however modestly, its external environment through diplomatic initiative and symbolic capital.
Further inquiry should also examine the other roles Colombia played throughout its diplomatic history—beyond middlepowermanship. Historical examples might include the legalist or moral arbiter roles embodied in its early twentieth-century advocacy for international law (Espejo 1981), the commercial intermediary role evident in its “coffee diplomacy,” or the more recent normalizer role, as the country sought to shed the stigma of near-failed-state status in the late 1990s and early 2000s.
Applying role theory to these episodes could enrich both Colombian foreign policy scholarship and comparative studies of small and middle powers. It would also help address what Ardila identifies as the persistent asymmetry between the wealth of research on Colombia’s domestic crises and the scarcity of systematic work on its international conduct (1991, 131).
In theoretical terms, this study suggests that middle power behavior is not confined to wealthy liberal democracies but can emerge contextually in developing states that combine structural constraints with aspirations to influence international norms, particularly through multilateral and legalistic channels. Between 1950 and 1962, Colombian leaders, despite clear material limitations, sought to participate in global and regional debates about order, security, and development.
The country’s interventions—first through military commitment in Korea and later through diplomatic leadership within the OAS—were not merely anomalies but indicative of a broader pattern of niche activism. As these cases illustrate, middlepowermanship could coexist with dependency, pragmatism, and political volatility, highlighting that moral rhetoric and material interests are not mutually exclusive in the foreign policies of peripheral states.
As Bushnell noted, Colombia remains “the least studied of the major Latin American countries and probably the least understood” (1993, vii). If this article, however modestly, contributes to a more nuanced appreciation of its international role, it will have fulfilled its purpose. Colombia was not always an Andean Tibet; rather, it attempted to navigate between structural dependence and diplomatic aspiration, seeking at key moments to make its voice heard in international affairs.
References
1 The depiction of communism as the “universal enemy” was articulated by José María Bernal, Colombia’s Minister of War, during a public address in August 1952. Bernal further contended that liberalism, whether consciously or unconsciously, facilitated Soviet ambitions for global domination (Atehortúa Cruz 2008, 69).
Nicolás Alberto Mejía Riaño holds a BA in Political Science with a specialization in Government from Universidad de los Andes, an Msc. International Relations from The London School of Economics and Political Science, and an MA in Public Policy from Universidad de los Andes. He has been a Chevening Scholar (a British government scholarship recipient), served as Colombian Consul in Frankfurt, Germany, and coordinated drug control and academic cooperation at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. His research interests include the historiography of Colombian foreign policy, international relations, and diplomacy. He currently serves as Foreign Relations Counselor at the Embassy of Colombia to the Kingdom of Belgium, the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, and the Mission to the European Union and NATO. * nicomej@hotmail.com