What is happening in Peru?
Since former president Pedro Castillo was ousted in early December, protests have broken out across the country. Demonstrators have blocked roads and intermittently stalled several airports in Peru’s south. Tourism has dropped away with the “indefinite” closure of Machu Picchu, the Inca ruin and Peru’s pre-eminent tourist attraction.
Demonstrations and roadblocks have toughened in impoverished areas in southern Peru which have borne the brunt of the deadly violence which has claimed close to 50 lives amid accusations that the police and army used excessive force. The single deadliest day of violence saw 17 deaths in the southern city of Juliaca.
Demonstrators say they will not rest until President Dina Boluarte, Castillo’s vice-president who replaced him, steps down and early elections are called.
So far, Peru’s discredited congress has blocked attempts to push through legislation that could bring forward elections, a move which has hardened the resolve of the demonstrators. Any further debate on the topic could be blocked until August.
At the beginning of February government expanded and prolonged a state of emergency including seven southern regions – Madre de Dios, Cusco, Puno, Apurímac, Moquegua and Tacna.
How did this start?
Castillo was forced out after he attempted to temporarily suspend congress in an effort to avoid impeachment for “moral incapacity” – a charge stemming from multiple corruption allegations. He announced he would rule by decree under emergency powers, and called for new legislative elections.
But in a matter of hours, Castillo’s illegal attempt to take over the country fell apart. His best ministers deserted him immediately, denouncing his coup and political allies, the armed forces, the police and even his lawyer followed suit.
Castillo attempted to seek asylum in the Mexican embassy but was detained and later charged with “rebellion”.
Meanwhile, congress skipped the debate and moved straight to an impeachment, voting overwhelmingly to remove him.
Castillo’s vice-president, Dina Boluarte, was sworn in as his replacement, while the ousted leader was transferred to Barbadillo prison in a police base on the outskirts of Lima, also the home of another former president and coup-monger 84-year-old Alberto Fujimori.
Although not particularly popular nor adept at governing, Castillo was seen as an ally by many in poorer, mostly Andean regions in their fight against poverty, discrimination and inequality.
The death of scores of civilians has galvanised the protests and roadblocks, particularly among the poor and Indigenous. Polls indicate that most Peruvians support the central demands of the demonstrators: that Boluarte resigns and that early elections are held.
Was it a coup?
Many Peruvians described Castillo’s move as an attempted autogolpe, roughly translated as self-coup. In 1992, Fujimori made a similar promise to “temporarily dissolve the congress” and the chamber was promptly surrounded by tanks as he assumed absolute power. He went on to arrest journalists and opposition leaders, censor newspapers and television stations, beginning an autocratic regime that would last for nearly a decade.
Castillo copied the same phrase but his autogolpe, by comparison, was a farce, prompting the political analyst Iván Lanegra, to comment “Pedro Castillo was dictator for only two hours”. For many, it was a fitting end to a disastrous 17-month term. The former schoolteacher churned through 80 ministers and is dogged by accusations of corruption, with six ongoing investigations by the country’s attorney general. Constitutional experts say Castillo’s announcement was an illegal power grab, but the governments of Argentina, Bolivia, Colombia and Mexico have refused to recognise Boluarte as Peru’s legitimate head of state.
Why are people so angry?
Castillo’s own attempt to seize power did nothing to diminish the fury over his ousting which sent shockwaves through his strongholds in the rural Andes and poorer neighbourhoods in the capital. His supporters accuse the loathed congress of staging a coup against their leader, the son of illiterate peasant farmers, and the first member of the country’s impoverished rural poor to become president.
However, outrage and grief over the deaths of protesters, mostly at the hands of the security forces, has energized the demonstrations – despite the economic cost of the blockades.
Boluarte is the seventh president in six years, a period fraught with political instability combined with the devastating effects of the Covid pandemic, in which Peru’s had one of the world’s highest mortality rates.
“Trust in the government has been lost. The people’s problems are not being solved,” said Óscar Cáceres, the mayor of Juliaca. “When the population is tired, when people do not have enough to eat and still we see acts of corruption in the government, what can we expect from the population?”
What happens next?
The protests may eventually die down as resources run low. Roadblocks have driven up already inflated prices of basic goods like rice, cooking oil and wheat, as well as vegetables, cooking gas and fuel.
But the fundamental problems driving the unrest will not go away: an abysmal gap remains between the powerful capital, Lima, and much of the rest of the country, some of which identified with Castillo. An even greater proportion feels neglected by its institutions and let down by its political class. Most of all, Peruvians are united in their rejection of the hugely unpopular congress, which is largely viewed as a viper’s nest of corrupt lobbies and vested interests.
Analysts have long talked about the Peruvian paradox – the coexistence of political instability and economic stability, but that may become a thing of the past. Peru’s broken political system will inevitably drive down foreign investment – which the economy is heavily reliant on – and the situation is already getting steadily worse.
