Colombia revives its century-old dream of linking the Atlantic and the Pacific

In Chocó, where people are still reckoning with the devastation caused by the August 10 earthquake, Colombian President Abelardo de la Espriella on Monday unveiled the most ambitious project ever proposed for the department in Colombia’s northwestern corner: a corridor finally linking the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. Surrounded by some of the country’s wealthiest business leaders, whom he had invited to support a list of specific, fundable projects, the president floated what sounded most like a personal crusade.

“There is an idea that has been on my mind, and many will say it’s crazy, but I’m used to being told something can’t be done and then proving that it can,” he said. The project would connect the Urabá region of Antioquia with a deep-water port on Chocó’s Pacific coast, though it remains undecided whether the link would take the form of a canal or a railway.

The curious thing is that this “crazy” idea is not his own. The project dates back more than a century, almost as far back as the construction of the Panama Canal, just 500 kilometers (310 miles) from Quibdó. It resurfaced in November 2023, when then-president Gustavo Petro revived plans for an interoceanic railway. By January, during a visit to Chocó’s capital, the proposal had evolved into a canal. It is precisely the same dilemma De la Espriella now faces.

In May this year, Petro posted a map on X showing a hand-drawn line between Cupica Bay and Turbo, along with the message: “Belatedly beginning the studies for the shortest possible interoceanic railway project in Colombia.”

The post prompted a wave of mockery. Comedian Daniel Samper Ospina thanked him sarcastically “for leaving us the design, now all that’s left is to build it,” while Congresswoman Katherine Miranda asked whether anyone could “be more mediocre,” adding that “with this Paint drawing, the studies are apparently already done.”

That is the project De la Espriella chose to resurrect in front of people who collectively represent more than 10% of Colombia’s GDP. And rather than claiming credit for the idea or criticizing the president, as he has repeatedly done during De la Espriella’s first month in office, Petro responded hours later on X without disputing a thing.

“A modern railway is essential, but it must be open to the world and not subordinated to any particular country,” said Petro. “The key is that the railway should be accompanied by a strong fiber-optic infrastructure to create megadata centers at both terminal ports, and these should be publicly owned. This project would make Colombia a global hub.”

There was not a single word about the man now governing the country, whom Petro himself had described only weeks earlier as “absurdly ineffective” following his first presidential address.

What is truly unusual about this episode is that Petro and De la Espriella are not merely political rivals; they are sworn enemies. Long before De la Espriella took power, the two had accused each other of incompetence, authoritarianism and dishonesty. Yet when it comes to the interoceanic canal or railway, they are on the same page. Each seems willing to share credit for a megaproject that, if it is ever built, would go down in the history books under the name of the president who finally brought it to fruition. The prospect of being remembered as the leader who at last connected the two oceans appears, in this case, to outweigh their personal rivalry.

The problem is that the recent history of the project is, above all, a history of studies that never reach completion. The first canal studies date back to 1964, and the dream of linking the two oceans through Colombian territory can be traced to the national trauma of losing Panama in 1903. Under Petro, the government completed preliminary feasibility studies for the railway. In that initial assessment, the state-run Transport Infrastructure Planning Unit (UPIT) proposed a rail corridor linking Juradó on the Pacific coast with Titumate on the Caribbean, integrated with two strategic ports at either end.

The idea therefore survived Petro’s four years in office, but only as an announcement, not as a construction project. And the obstacles of cost and time that threatened Petro’s version now pose the same challenge to De la Espriella’s plans.

For now, the only verifiable thing is the promise itself. The president has delegated the project to the Miracle Fund, the vehicle announced by the government to channel reconstruction efforts after the earthquake and which has yet to be formally established. So far, the fund speaks only of “possibilities,” not decisions.

“There are two possibilities for connecting the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, from the Urabá region of Antioquia to a deep-water port on Chocó’s Pacific coast,” its director, Jaime Andrés Uribe Tamayo, explained, without specifying which of the two options would be chosen, how it would be carried out, or when.

Meanwhile, in Chocó, more pressing needs remain unresolved: rental subsidies, home repairs and assistance for affected businesses. In short, the very measures De la Espriella himself announced in the aftermath of the earthquake.

Perhaps that is the key to understanding this unlikely truce between two presidents who agree on almost nothing else. It is not that Petro and De la Espriella have found a common cause that transcends politics. Rather, both seem to understand that publicly opposing a project that promises to reshape Colombian history carries little political benefit, even if neither the man who unveiled it with a video nor the one who later endorsed it with a post on X has yet explained how it will be financed or when construction could begin.

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