My foot on the giant

On the night of December 27, 2025, in Bogotá, when Pastor Rodríguez delivered his message “My foot on the giant” from the pulpit of the Avivamiento church, he was not talking about mythology or sweet metaphors. He was talking about an ancient and ruthlessly valid law: giants do not fall because of a lack of strength, but because of excessive pride. The Bible does not sugarcoat power; it lays it bare. Goliath did not lose because he was weak, but because he was loudmouthed. And Haman did not fall because he was naive, but because he believed himself to be the master of others’ destinies.

The scene of Esther and Mordecai, vividly remembered that night, is perhaps the most uncomfortable for lovers of superficial moralism. Haman, convinced of his impunity, had a gallows built for Mordecai, the Jew who refused to bow down to him. The biblical twist is as elegant as it is cruel: Haman ended up hanging from the same gallows, along with his sons. There was no negotiation or soft pedagogy. There was poetic justice and perfect timing. Esther did not scream, march, or improvise. She waited. Mordecai did not conspire: he resisted. Biblical faith, when authentic, is not hysterical; it is strategic.

That pattern reappeared clearly when one looks at the recent global chessboard. Israel stopped justifying itself and began to exercise sovereignty. The leaders of the terrorist organizations that made the extermination of the Jews a political project fell one after another, some spectacularly, others in surgical silence. The noise died down. The facts spoke for themselves. It was not epic, it was effective.

In this uncomfortable realignment of the world, Donald Trump returned to center stage with the delicacy of a bulldozer and a clarity that makes relativists uncomfortable. His understanding with Benjamin Netanyahu is neither sentimental nor rhetorical: it is operational. Zero ambiguity in the face of terrorism, zero patience with those who confuse cause with barbarism. Around him, Marco Rubio emerged as more than just a senator: a hemispheric architect. Alongside him, a Latino bloc—Salazar, Giménez, Díaz-Balart—demonstrated that Latino identity is not synonymous with ideological naivety or anti-Semitism disguised as social sensitivity.

Venezuela was the modern parable. The regime that believed itself eternal ended up reduced to a file. The cardboard giant, sustained by fear and propaganda, fell when it ceased to be useful. For an exhausted country, it was perhaps the best thing that could happen: the end of the myth of untouchability. Sometimes historical mercy arrives with surgical gloves and without asking permission.

And then Colombia appears, always so creative in making mistakes at the wrong time. Gustavo Petro decided to challenge Trump as Maduro believed he could do; he challenged Israel as if history were a university forum. He bet on causes that garner digital applause and detract from real allies. It is the classic mistake of the false David: confusing a slingshot with a megaphone. The Bible is clear and unforgiving about this confusion.

Cuba and Nicaragua already know how the script ends. They are showcases of failed gigantism: lots of slogans, little bread; lots of epic, no way out. Petro seems determined to learn the lesson by immersion, dragging along candidates and followers who believe that foreign policy is written with moral purity and not with calculation. History does not punish ideas; it punishes strategic clumsiness.

There is also an exquisite irony in the woke left and armchair pro-Palestinianism: they invoke Jesus while erasing the fact that he was Jewish; they talk about rights while relativizing terror; they denounce empires while dreaming of wiping Israel off the map. Well-written cynicism, very effective on social media, completely useless in the face of reality.

And the message spreads further. Iran shows visible cracks; no regime sustained by fear is eternal. In Washington and Jerusalem, there is less and less talk of containment and more and more talk of liberating peoples. The outcome, also in Colombia, remains open. The warning is biblical and uncompromising: like Haman, those who build the gallows for the Jew often end up tasting it themselves. The giant falls, someone steps on him… and history goes on, without apology.