Alfonso Insuasty RodriguezThe announced shift by Colombian President Abelardo de la Espriella's government toward Israel is not limited to a diplomatic readjustment.
The promise to build a bilateral relationship "like never before," the reopening of the Colombian embassy in occupied East Jerusalem, the "recognition of Israeli sovereignty” over the occupied Golan Heights, and the reactivation of economic and trade ties all point to a broader transformation of Colombian foreign policy.
Specifically, it is expected that some 30 Israeli companies will visit Colombia in the coming months to explore investment opportunities, as confirmed after a meeting between the Minister of Commerce, Mauricio Gomez, and Betsy Berns Korn, president of the Conference of Presidents of Major American Jewish Organizations.
Behind this shift lies a broader issue: the possible reactivation and expansion of a security architecture that includes military technology, surveillance, intelligence, cooperation with Washington, and increasing private-sector participation in strategic state functions.
The official website of De la Espriella's political party, Defenders for the Homeland, states that "greater collaboration with Israeli defence industries opens up opportunities for technology transfer, creation of specialised jobs and strengthening of sectors such as cybersecurity and military intelligence."
This technological boost, presented as part of a strategy to combat what the party calls organised crime, could become a cornerstone of the new relationship with Israel.
For some experts in Tel Aviv, security cooperation could also expand significantly. “Everything related to national security will involve extensive collaboration with Israel,” says political scientist Alberto Spektorowski. “Colombia will request it, Israel will provide it, and that relationship will be strengthened,” he added.
Ultimately, according to an analysis published in The Times of Israel, “this is not merely diplomatic protocol: it is a calculated message directed at the entire region, at a time when Israel is seeking to rebuild alliances in Latin America after years of deterioration.”
The security dimension could therefore become a key point of convergence in this new phase, linking foreign policy with military technology, intelligence, and surveillance capabilities.
Israel's technological tentacles in Latin America
This process, however, did not begin with the current government. Its origins lie in decades of military and intelligence cooperation between Colombia and Israel.
During the administration of former President Virgilio Barco (1986-1990), journalistic investigations revealed the presence and advisory role of Israeli agent Rafi Eitan, who was allegedly consulted on matters of presidential security and protection.
Subsequent investigations also raised questions about a possible link between his presence in Colombia and the escalation of violence against members of the leftist Patriotic Union (UP) party.
The accusation generated controversy, and some of its aspects were later denied or questioned. The journalistic investigation itself indicates that there is no evidence of a connection between Eitan and the murders of UP members, although it highlights that his presence in Colombia coincided with the sharp increase in these homicides beginning in 1987.
Years later, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights recognised the responsibility of the Colombian State for the extermination and political violence against members of that party.
During the administration of former President Alvaro Uribe (2002-2010), the military relationship between Colombia and Israel deepened, focusing on security policy and strengthening the capabilities of the Colombian Armed Forces.
The Galil, an Israeli-made assault rifle, became one of its symbols, accompanied by technology transfer and cooperation in aircraft, intelligence, surveillance, and other military systems.
Subsequently, INDUMIL, a company attached to the Colombian Ministry of Defense, developed national versions of the Galil through technology transfer agreements with Israel, showing how an initial dependency could also become local industrial capacity.
The political and diplomatic break with Israel during the government of former President Gustavo Petro (2022-2026) marked a turning point in this trajectory.
In October 2023, Israel suspended military cooperation and exports to Colombia. Then, in February 2024, Petro announced the suspension of new arms purchases from Israel, and on May 1, he announced the severing of diplomatic relations.
In parallel, Colombia advanced a strategy of industrial autonomy for defence. The Jaguar rifle project— described as a symbol of "technological, industrial, and strategic sovereignty"—was initiated by INDUMIL in 2020.
Its name honours the animal that represents "strength, intelligence, adaptability, precision, territorial dominance, and a connection with the jungle and American nature," and which for centuries has been "an ancestral symbol of the indigenous peoples of the Americas."
The rifle was officially unveiled in May 2026 as a domestically developed weapon intended to strengthen the country's sovereignty. The Jaguar incorporates significant improvements over the Galil system currently used by Colombian forces.
Elbit Systems and its footprint in the region
The business dimension makes the potential scope of this relationship clearer.
In December 2021, the Colombian Army contracted with Elbit Systems—one of the leading Israeli companies in the defence and technology sector—for a border surveillance and reconnaissance system and a command-and-control centre for the border with Venezuela for approximately $30 million.
The contract was executed under a bilateral Colombia-Israel agreement. It was not simply a matter of acquiring equipment: it involved incorporating technological capabilities developed by an Israeli company into the security management of a strategic territory.
Elbit and other Israeli companies have expanded across Latin America.
Academic research has documented the regional use of Hermes 450 and Hermes 900 drones, systems developed by Elbit that integrate intelligence, surveillance, target acquisition, and reconnaissance capabilities.
Brazil, Chile, and Mexico are among the Latin American countries that have operated platforms of this type.
The company itself acknowledges contracts to modernise Hermes 900 systems used by Latin American clients.
The issue takes on a particularly sensitive dimension when military technology intersects with digital surveillance.
In 2024, the Colombian Attorney General's Office opened an investigation into the alleged purchase and use of Pegasus software, developed by the Israeli company NSO Group, whose distribution is controlled by the Israeli Ministry of Defense.
The complaint alleged a transaction for approximately $11 million and a supposed cash payment. The investigation was to determine, among other things, whether the acquisition actually took place and how the software was used.
Ecuador offers another significant case. In December 2024, the National Assembly approved an investigation into the alleged use of the Pegasus software against journalists, opposition members, and activists.
The resolution ordered the appearance of the director of the Strategic Intelligence Center and requested information from the Israeli Embassy regarding the program's alleged use on Ecuadorian territory.
Again, the relevance lies in the institutional question: who acquires these technologies, under what controls, against whom can they be used, and what mechanisms exist to guarantee fundamental rights?
This process coincides with a broader transformation of regional security: the increasing participation of private companies in functions traditionally reserved for the state.
In this respect, Haiti's case is illustrative.
Vectus Global, a private security company linked to Erik Prince, founder of the controversial Blackwater company, has been operating in Haiti since 2025, using drones to target armed groups.
Prince also said he had reached a long-term agreement with the Haitian government that would include, once the situation stabilises, participation in restoring the tax collection system.
In 2026, Reuters reported that US officials were considering closer cooperation with the company, while human rights organisations expressed concern about civilian deaths associated with drone strikes.
The privatisation of security functions
Meanwhile, the privatisation of security functions raises questions about sovereignty, accountability, and legal responsibility.
The debate is not unique to Latin America: the United Nations Human Rights Council has established a working group to develop an international framework to regulate, monitor, and control the activities of private military and security companies.
The central problem is that outsourcing coercive functions can complicate identifying responsibility when abuses occur.
In this context, the political role that Israel has acquired for the “new right” must also be analysed. Journalist Pablo Stefanoni has studied how the defence of Israel has become, for sectors of the extreme right, a means of legitimising themselves after 1945, when antisemitism had been a historical hallmark of much of the radical European right.
In his analysis, Stefanoni points out that “anti-antisemitism” can operate simultaneously as a legitimising mechanism and as an instrument of confrontation against groups such as Muslims, Palestinians, and progressive sectors.
This interpretation helps explain why the relationship with Israel today extends beyond the strictly military or commercial sphere.
Against this backdrop, Colombia presents a particularly relevant case. The new government of De la Espriella has proposed reviving military cooperation with Israel and strengthening the strategic alliance with Washington.
Analysts cited by TRT World have linked this project to a potential deepening of Israeli technological cooperation in security, intelligence, and the fight against drug trafficking, in a framework some are calling “Plan Colombia 2.0.”
Security for whom and sovereignty for what?
The fundamental issue is not simply what weapons, platforms, or software each state purchases, but what kind of security infrastructure is built when intelligence, surveillance, drones, cybersecurity, and military capabilities begin to integrate with private companies and international alliances.
In this context, greater technological dependence can also translate into greater strategic dependence, particularly when critical capabilities become tied to external providers.
The Latin American experience compels us to ask questions that go beyond simply purchasing equipment.
Who defines the threats? Who manages the data? Which companies are involved? What controls are in place? And, above all, what economic and geopolitical interests lie behind these new security architectures?
The question becomes especially relevant when technology, security, and infrastructure become linked to strategic territories and assets.
In Colombia, the approach to the Israeli state-owned company Mekorot and its potential involvement in water management issues related to the Sumapaz Paramo area reopen the debate over who decides on water and strategic ecosystems.
Thus, it is worth asking: could dependence on defence and surveillance open new doors to corporate intervention in territories, water, minerals, biodiversity, and critical infrastructure?
What businesses operate behind these alliances, and who captures the value of our strategic assets?
The dispute is not only technological or military: it is also a dispute over sovereignty and the future of territories.
In a Latin America rich in water, minerals, biodiversity, and energy, turning security into a gateway to new dependencies can limit the decision-making power of states and communities over their common resources.
The sovereignty of peoples over their territories cannot be the hidden cost of any alliance.
(This article was first published on TRT Español)
