For years, Colombians knew him only as an anonymous man in an elephant costume exposing unfinished public works in enormously popular videos.
This month, they elected him to the Senate.
Luis Carlos Rúa, a 33-year-old engineer from the western city of Pereira, built a large following on TikTok and Instagram as “El Elefante Blanco” by documenting abandoned construction sites. An “elefante blanco,” or “white elephant,” refers to a costly project that is never completed — a symbol of waste and mismanagement.
His videos, which have helped expose and sometimes accelerate stalled projects, struck a chord with Colombians long frustrated by unfinished roads, bridges and schools.
“He was well known for his activism. He was not well known as an individual person,” said Sergio Guzmán, a Colombian political analyst.
Mr. Rúa ran with little party machinery, campaigning at highway tollbooths and handing out fliers. He won about 120,000 votes in the March 8 election — among the best showings for the centrist Green Alliance party and enough to win a Senate seat.
He revealed his identity just three days before the vote. “It was incredible,” he said.
Mr. Rúa’s path to politics was years in the making.
He first emerged publicly in 2019 as a key witness in an election controversy in Pereira, a city of 600,000 in Colombia’s coffee-growing region.
At the time, he was a contractor in the mayor’s office and said officials had pressured public workers to help recruit voters for the mayor’s preferred successor. He also provided an audio recording that he said revealed the mayor discussing the recruiting effort, according to a court ruling.
After the recording surfaced, a government watchdog suspended the mayor, but a high court later ruled the recording inadmissible and allowed the election result to stand, preserving the victory of the mayor’s ally.
Iván Serrano, a journalist who reported on the case, said he was struck by Mr. Rúa’s willingness to speak out since public workers rarely do so, fearing they’ll lose their jobs.
“He really put himself on the line by filing that complaint ,” he said. “That’s enormous bravery.”
Mr. Rúa said he was forced to leave Pereira after being publicly shamed and ostracized for becoming a whistle-blower.
“Once I went into an office and they called me Judas — the one who betrayed Jesus Christ,” he said.
He moved to Medellín, renting a room and sleeping on a mattress on the floor. He said he became involved in activism, but grew wary of the risks.
“In Colombia speaking out can cost you your life,” he said.
He decided to create an anonymous persona: the white elephant.
Wearing his plush costume, he began documenting unfinished projects. He filed legal petitions, always guarding his identity, to force action. In one video he documented delays and safety concerns at a bridge in Ocaña in northeastern Colombia that was part of a nationally funded road project. It went viral and prompted court-ordered repairs.
“I realized that people really do have a sense of solidarity,” he said.
The message tapped into a broader problem. In Colombia, public contracts for large construction works are sometimes awarded to political allies who lack the capacity to deliver, leaving projects incomplete or poorly executed.
More than 1,400 such projects worth over $6 billion have been identified nationwide by Colombia’s comptroller general.
“That’s why figures who present this issue in such a simple and visual way resonate with the public,” said Andrés Hernandez, director of the Colombia chapter of Transparency International, an anti-corruption group.
Over time, Mr. Rúa’s work expanded. He traveled the country, often living out of his car, financing his efforts through freelance computer programming, crowdfunding and the sale of elephant plush toys. He said he raised about $125,000 in donations.
Mr. Guzmán, the political analyst, said voters saw in Mr. Rúa someone who had already challenged those in power.
“He’s gotten people kicked out of their jobs,” he said. “The people who should pay attention to this are asleep at the wheel.”
The issue became personal in November 2024, Mr. Rúa said, when his father died after hitting a pothole while riding his bicycle in Pereira — a hazard his father had reported but that was never fixed.
Supporters urged him to run. He joined the Green Alliance, saying it allowed him to remain independent of traditional political factions.
Mr. Serrano, the journalist, was shocked to realize the person he had reported on was behind the “white elephant” persona, and that an anonymous figure had converted online visibility into votes. In Colombia, Senate races are nationwide, so winners must receive large numbers of votes.
Even Mr. Rúa was surprised by the scale of the response to his election.
“For two days straight, they haven’t stopped making videos about me,” he said. “Every media outlet is calling me. I didn’t expect any of this.”
He says he intends to remain independent in Congress and rely on public pressure rather than political alliances, using social media to mobilize support for issues like road safety and access to water.
“We’re going to redefine what it means to be a senator,” he said.
Genevieve Glatsky is a reporter for The Times, based in Bogotá, Colombia.
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