In the quaint town of Choachi, Colombia, nestled among grazing fields and forested mountains, the age-old tradition of bullfighting faces its twilight. Sebastián Caqueza, a seasoned bullfighter, reflects on a lifetime spent in the arena, expressing an undying passion for the sport that has shaped him since childhood. However, his future, like that of many others in this tradition, now stands uncertain as Colombia’s new legislation gradually tightens the noose around bullfighting, culminating in a complete ban by mid-2027.
President Gustavo Petro’s recent legislation heralds a seismic shift for bullfighting enthusiasts and professionals alike. The law imposes a three-year transitional period during which restrictions will be incrementally enforced, leading up to a total ban. For Caqueza, who has dedicated his life to this centuries-old tradition, the legislation is akin to losing a cherished part of his identity. Despite the impending ban, his dedication remains unwavering, though the challenge of finding a new livelihood looms large.
Nicolas Nossa, a retired matador at 70, shares in this sentiment, equating the love for bullfighting to an intense personal relationship. Nossa, who now runs a bullfighting academy in Choachi, faces the dilemma of whether to continue training aspiring bullfighters in a sport soon to be outlawed. The academy, once a beacon for young talent, now grapples with an uncertain future. Nossa and other bullfighting advocates hope that a lawsuit planned for Colombia’s Constitutional Court might repeal the ban, although the outcome remains highly speculative.
The debate around bullfighting is steeped in tradition, emotion, and controversy. Proponents argue that the sport celebrates the bravery and honor of the bulls, whose ultimate fate in the ring is seen as dignified. Critics, including President Petro, view the practice as outdated and inhumane, having attempted to curtail it since his tenure as mayor of Bogotá, where he revoked bullfighting contracts for the city’s 14,000-seat bullring. As the law edges closer to implementation, the fate of the aggressive, lean bulls bred specifically for these events also hangs in the balance. Many now face the sad reality of meeting their end in slaughterhouses, a sharp divergence from their storied path to the ring.
Economic repercussions are another pressing concern. While reliable statistics on how many Colombians rely on bullfighting for their livelihood are elusive, the bill mandates the government to identify these individuals and fund initiatives to help them transition to new vocations. This aspect of the legislation is crucial, as cattle ranchers and others within the bullfighting economy grapple with an uncertain future.
As the sun sets on this ancient ritual, the impact of the ban will ripple through the lives of those who have devoted themselves to bullfighting. For individuals like Caqueza and Nossa, the end of an era is more than just the closure of a profession; it is the cessation of a way of life, steeped in history, passion, and controversy. While the future remains unclear, the determination to preserve their legacy burns brightly, hoping against hope for a reprieve in the courts.