Petro Defends Minor Who Committed Murder: Compassion or Moral Collapse?

Colombian President Gustavo Petro has once again ignited a political and moral firestorm both at home and abroad. This time, it stems from his dangerously ambiguous remarks regarding a recent murder that has shocked the nation: the killing of an innocent person by a minor. Instead of focusing on national mourning, justice, or the institutional response to youth violence, Petro chose a narrative that many analysts have already labeled as an apology for the perpetrator.

“Tenderness of life, the first thing we defend is life itself: the life of the victim, which is in good hands and we trust; and the life of the murderer, who is a minor, a child. Laws and rules oblige us to protect the child for being a child, because if we don’t care for the children of the homeland, we will have no homeland,” said Petro in a recent speech—sparking outrage across the political and judicial spectrum.

Humanitarian Message or Institutional Breakdown?
At first glance, Petro’s message aligns with humanist principles: valuing human life in all its forms, protecting minors, and promoting restorative justice. But in the context of a recent and brutal crime, his words were perceived by much of the public as an insult to the victim and their family—and as a complete abandonment of the state’s primary duty: to ensure justice, order, and security.

Since when is it acceptable for a head of state to place the life of a murderer on equal footing with the life of the person they killed? Since when is “tenderness” the framework through which a premeditated crime is analyzed? And what kind of republic can survive when its president seems more interested in offering empathy to the perpetrator than in standing with the victim’s family?

Colombia is not an ideological experiment. It is a real nation, with real families—thousands of whom live under constant threat from violence, often carried out by minors recruited by organized crime, armed dissidents, or drug cartels. Petro’s words don’t just romanticize this phenomenon—they legitimize it.

Childhood as a Political Excuse
No one disputes that children must be protected. But when childhood is used as a political shield to justify criminal acts, a dangerous line is crossed. The state must differentiate between protection and permissiveness, between rehabilitation and impunity.

Petro’s statements confuse being a minor with moral immunity. In a country where armed groups have perfected the forced recruitment of minors to use them as human shields, assassins, or drug couriers, such rhetoric is not only irresponsible—it’s reckless.

Is this Petro’s version of “total peace”? A peace in which the child perpetrator is elevated to the status of social martyr, while the victim is mentioned only in bureaucratic passing? A peace where criminals receive more empathy than honest citizens?

Public Reaction: Outrage and Fear
Social media exploded within minutes. Citizens from across the ideological spectrum rejected the president’s remarks. Victims’ organizations, members of the Colombian Congress, legal experts, and media figures condemned the president’s tone and implications.

“With statements like these, President Petro doesn’t just undermine common sense—he erodes public trust in judicial and law enforcement institutions,” stated a senator from the Democratic Center party. “How is a judge supposed to act impartially when the president has already passed a moral judgment on the killer?”

The families of victims feel abandoned. “My son didn’t get a second chance,” said the mother of the murdered teenager. “Where’s the tenderness of life when you’re burying a 17-year-old?”

A Warning Sign for the United States
From Washington, statements like these should raise serious concern. Colombia remains one of the United States’ most strategic allies in Latin America—in counter-narcotics efforts, in promoting regional stability, and in pushing back against the rise of radical ideologies. But under Petro, justice is beginning to look more like a storytelling tool than a mechanism for truth and accountability.

If crime continues to be excused in the name of the “child soldier,” the “marginalized youth,” or the “actor of the conflict,” then the U.S. must seriously reconsider the direction of the Colombian state. Is this the kind of partner capable of contributing to hemispheric order?

Petro’s progressive policies, built on ideological sentimentalism and abstract forgiveness, are already undermining law enforcement. And in a region where drug cartels, urban militias, and armed groups are ready to seize any opening, every poorly chosen word becomes a green light for violence.

A President’s Duty Is to the Victims, Not the Murderers
Compassion is a human virtue. But justice is a duty of the state. A president can cry for all, but he must govern firmly to protect the innocent.

Petro has chosen to romanticize crime, to speak of “tenderness” where there should be outrage, and to deliver speeches when there should be swift action. Colombia doesn’t need a storyteller. It needs a statesman.

And if Petro is unwilling to take on that role, then perhaps it’s time for Colombia to replace him with someone who understands that without justice, there is no homeland to defend—nor children to protect.