Bill de Blasio traveled to Bogotá with allies from Code Pink and Progressive International, joining an international left-wing gathering that produced the San Carlos Declaration and drew scrutiny over ties between activists and foreign influence.

Former New York City mayor Bill de Blasio flew to Bogotá in January to attend a left-wing conference reported to include Code Pink, the anti-war activist group that President Trump’s State Department has labeled a “vector of Chinese propaganda.” He made the trip with his girlfriend, South Tucson Mayor Roxanna Valenzuela, and mixed official-looking meetings with what looked like protest theater and vacation photos.

The event called Nuestra América drew roughly 90 delegates from about 20 countries and was organized under the banner of Progressive International, which counts Code Pink among its affiliates. Organizers billed the gathering as an “emergency” summit to “defend democracy and peace in the Americas,” but the tone and messaging were overtly opposed to U.S. policy and influence in the hemisphere.

Delegates produced the San Carlos Declaration, a statement framing their agenda as resistance to what they described as a Trump-driven “Donroe Doctrine” that insists on U.S. preeminence in the Western Hemisphere. The timing of the conference followed the reported U.S. capture of Venezuelan dictator Nicolás Maduro that same month, a backdrop that made the gathering look like more than a friendly policy discussion.

Valenzuela documented parts of the trip on social media, posting images that mix diplomacy and provocation. Her pictures show her giving an apparent middle finger to an effigy labeled “RIP Monroe Doctrine,” posing beside a smiling de Blasio and Colombian politician María José Pizarro Rodríguez, and meeting with Colombian president Gustavo Petro, alongside scenic, vacation-style shots.

“It was a privilege to connect with delegates from across the globe, all united in supporting Latin American sovereignty. Beyond the vital work, I’ve made friendships that will last a lifetime.”

Neither de Blasio, Valenzuela, nor Code Pink offered comment to press inquiries on the trip, leaving a lot of unanswered questions about the purpose and payoff of their Bogotá appearances. For critics, the optics are clear: a former mayor and U.S. local official cozying up to radical activists in a foreign capital is not standard diplomacy.

Code Pink began in 2002 as an anti-war group and became famous for theatrical stunts that drew attention, not subtle policy arguments. One notable episode in 2017 saw members don KKK-style outfits in a stunt aimed at then-Attorney General Jeff Sessions, a move critics said crossed lines between protest and provocation.

The group’s funding and alliances have been under more serious scrutiny than its antics. Socialist billionaire Neville Roy Singham emerged as a benefactor and later married Code Pink co-founder Jodie Evans, and reporting has traced money and influence from his network into a broader network of organizations accused of pushing pro-Beijing narratives in the West.

In its public assessments, the Trump administration’s State Department singled out Code Pink and what it described as the broader “Singham network” as vectors of Chinese propaganda, a charge that escalated concerns about foreign influence through NGOs and activist circles. That is the same organization de Blasio chose to appear with at a conference explicitly opposing U.S. foreign policy in the region.

Code Pink pushed back with a categorical denial of any foreign government funding, insisting its support comes from private donors who favor peace over war. The group published this statement on its site:

“To state it very clearly: CODEPINK is in no way funded by China, nor any other foreign government or agency. We are funded primarily by donations from concerned citizens that support peace over war.”

The denial is blunt and absolute, but the State Department’s findings and investigative reporting on Singham’s network leave open questions that a single statement does not settle. Money moves and affiliations matter when political activists start circling foreign capitals and national leaders.

For Republicans and national security-minded conservatives, these events look less like grassroots solidarity and more like coordinated influence operations cloaked in humanitarian language. The mix of theatrical protest, transnational organizing, and influential backers raises questions about who is shaping the message and to what end.

At the very least, de Blasio’s presence at a gathering that explicitly rejects traditional U.S. influence in the Americas invites scrutiny about motives and outcomes. Officials can attend conferences, sure, but when those conferences feature declared opposition to U.S. policy and a cast of activists tied to contested funding streams, it deserves a clear accounting.

What de Blasio was doing there remains unclear.