Peru Introduction
Figure 1 Administrative Divisions (Departments) of Peru, 1992
ONCE THE CENTER of the powerful and fabulously wealthy
Inca
Empire, Peru in the early 1990s was an impoverished,
crisis-prone
country trying to cope with major societal, economic, and
political changes. The strong undercurrents propelling
these
changes flowed from what historian Peter F. Klarén
describes as
Peru's historical "dualism": a wide racial, socioeconomic,
and
political division between the small white criollo elite
in Lima
and the vast majority of the population, consisting of
native
Americans in the Andean interior and
mestizos (those of
mixed race; see Glossary), located mostly in the coastal cities.
Until
the 1980s, this dualism put Lima in sharp contrast to the
native
American interior. According to Klarén, however, this
traditional
dualism has been eroding both ethnically as a result of
the
increasing Andeanization of Lima and politically as a
result of
"the dispersion of power away from the traditional
triumvirate of
oligarchy, church, and armed forces."
Anthropologist José Matos Mar has noted that by the
early
1990s the process of integration of Peru's native American
population from the Andean highlands (Sierra) and jungle
(Selva)
regions had given Peru a new identity, one distinctly
different
from the traditionally dominant coast (Costa) culture of
the Lima
elites. Beginning in the mid-1970s, increasingly large
numbers of
highlanders began moving to Lima in search of work. This
process
was accelerated in the 1980s as mainly Quechua-speaking
highlanders fled the growing violence of the
Maoist-oriented
Communist Party of Peru-Shining Path (Partido Comunista
del Perú-
Sendero Luminoso--PCP-SL, hereafter SL) and the army's
harsh
counterinsurgency measures. For anthropologist Paul L.
Doughty,
the Andeanization of Lima exemplifies a "reconquest" of
Peru by
the long-exploited native highlanders. This reconquest,
however,
has been confined to demographics and sociopolitical
identity;
the traditional socioeconomic chasm has remained and even
widened.
In the early 1990s, most of the former highlanders who
had
left the Andean countryside looking for a better life in
Lima
remained harshly
marginalized (see Glossary).
They survived in
the capital's
informal sector (see Glossary),
living precariously
in squalid conditions in makeshift shacks in the sprawling
urban
barriadas (see Glossary),
known as pueblos
jóvenes,
or "young towns," on the hills that surround Lima. In
mid-1992 at
least 7 million people, or about one-third of the
country's 22.7
million inhabitants, lived in Lima, which is now largely
mestizo
and native American, reflecting the new national identity
of
mestizaje (miscegenation). Despite Lima's
Andeanization,
the vast majority of the population still earns only a
small
percentage of the national income.
Thus, the dualism or marginality model of analysis
remained
valid in the early 1990s. Peru's continuing dualism is
symbolized
by two prominent statues: the statue of Francisco Pizarro,
the
conqueror of the Incas and founder of Lima, in Lima's
Government
Center and the thirty-five-meter-high statue of Pachakuteq
(Pachacuti Inca Yupanqui) erected near Cusco (Quechua:
"Qosqo")
in 1992. The economic elites in Lima have identified more
closely
with the heritage of their Spanish ancestry, including the
tradition of treating the proud but humble descendants of
the
remarkable native American civilizations of ancient Peru
with the
same racial stereotypes and arrogant contempt.
Essentially, the
great majority of Peruvians remained marginalized in a
resource-
rich but economically impoverished and racially divided
nation.
As described by Italian naturalist Antonio Raimondi in the
1850s,
Peru was still basically "a beggar sitting on a gold
bench."
By 1990 Peru had changed far more significantly than
many
politicians in Lima realized as a result of the historic
shift in
its demographics and Lima's racial composition; the almost
total
disaffection of Peruvians with their political
institutions,
indeed, with democracy itself because of endemic
governmental
corruption and incompetence, particularly during the
administration of Alan García Pérez (president, 1985-90);
and the
gradual disintegration of the state. For the first time
since the
demographic collapse of the native American population in
the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and the colonial
subjugation
of the country, Peru's national identity was more
autochthonous
than extraneous. These trends, combined with the
increasing class
divisions and antipathy within Peru's multiethnic society,
created a ground swell in Peruvian politics and society
that,
ironically, propelled a politically unknown,
second-generation
Japanese-Peruvian (a nisei), Alberto Keinya Fujimori, to
the
presidency in July 1990.
Fujimori's parents arrived in Peru from Japan in the
early
1930s, just before the Peruvian government ended Japanese
immigration out of concern that Japanese immigrants were
too
competitive. His father prospered as a shopkeeper until
anti-
Japanese riots erupted in Lima in 1940 and the government
closed
the family business. Although his parents remained
Buddhists,
they allowed their son to grow up as a Roman Catholic and
to
attend Roman Catholic schools. Fujimori graduated first in
his
class from the National Agrarian University (Universidad
Nacional
Agraria--UNA) in Lima in 1960. During his career as an
agronomist
and mathematics professor, Fujimori earned an M.A. in
mathematics
from the University of Wisconsin at Madison in the early
1970s
and served as UNA's rector, as well as president of the
national
association of rectors, from 1984 to 1989. His hosting of
a Lima
television talk-show program on Peru's socioeconomic
problems
apparently inspired him to make a mid-life career change.
Fujimori entered the presidential and senatorial races
simultaneously in 1990 as the independent candidate of the
new
Change '90 (Cambio '90) party, an eclectic alliance of
Protestant
evangelicals, small-business owners, peasants, and
shantytown
dwellers. Doing better than expected as a candidate for
president, he soon found himself battling another
political
neophyte--renowned novelist Mario Vargas Llosa.
After becoming involved politically in August 1987,
when he
protested the announced plan by populist García to
nationalize
all financial institutions and insurance companies, Vargas
Llosa
found himself heading the new Liberty Movement (Movimiento
de
Libertad). Alarmed over the antidemocratic and socialist
direction his country was taking at the end of its first
decade
of democracy, Vargas Llosa gave up his cherished literary
solitude for the tumultuousness of a presidential
campaign, even
though he was still ambivalent about getting further
involved
politically. Instead of becoming an independent candidate
like
Fujimori, however, Vargas Llosa, whose Peruvian campaign
consultants were all upper class, made the strategic
blunder of
joining the center-right alliance called the Democratic
Front
(Frente Democrático--Fredemo). Fredemo had been formed in
1987 by
two of the traditional opposition parties--Popular Action
(Acción
Popular--AP), headed by former president Fernando Belaúnde
Terry
(1965-68, 1980-85); and the Popular Christian Party
(Partido
Popular Cristiano--PPC), headed by Luis Bedoya Reyes.
Because
both the AP and PPC were discredited as oligarchical in
the eyes
of most Peruvians, Vargas Llosa compromised his image as
an
outsider and an advocate of change by joining Fredemo.
The candidacies of Fujimori and Vargas Llosa
increasingly
reflected Peru's widening socioeconomic and cultural
divisions.
The first electoral round, held in April 1990, showed that
the
electorate was polarizing between the large and rapidly
growing
poor majority, consisting of Spanish-speaking mestizos
(constituting 37 percent of the population) and largely
Quechua-
speaking, native Americans (45 percent) on one hand, and
the
small minority of Caucasians (15 percent), the well-off
criollo
Peruvians, on the other. The criollo elite, which
traditionally
had held power, favored the patrician Vargas Llosa,
culturally
more European than Peruvian. Vargas Llosa's popularity
with the
general public waned, however, as he began to be viewed as
a
protector of the traditional ruling class. In the first
electoral
round in April 1990, Fujimori came in second, only four
points
behind Vargas Llosa, who was still considered García's
most
likely successor.
Vargas Llosa's popularity soared when, exasperated by
the
bickering between his two party allies, he withdrew from
Fredemo
and went to Italy to accept a literary award. But the
euphoria
was short-lived. Peruvians felt betrayed when he rejoined
Fredemo
after the AP and PPC hastily reached an accord. His base
of
support in Lima, the center of political power, withered
further
as a result of his expensive and slick media blitz, which
was
culturally insensitive to Peru's predominantly nonwhite
population. In addition, his exhausting, United
States-style
campaign tour of Peru's twenty-four departments aroused
more
curiosity than enthusiasm. Observers noted that Vargas
Llosa
talked above the heads of the voters and came across as
too
aloof, urbane, and privileged for the average Peruvian to
be able
to identify with him.
The two campaigns were worthy of an ironic political
novel by
Vargas Llosa himself. The agnostic, intellectual novelist
found
himself strongly supported by the Roman Catholic Church
and, at
least initially, the military. Tainted by his Fredemo
alliance,
however, he was widely seen by ordinary Peruvians as
representative of the criollo upper classes of Lima. His
fanciful
comment during a debate with Fujimori about how he would
like to
make Peru "like Switzerland" only heightened a public
perception
that he was out of touch with Peruvian reality. At the
same time,
he may have been too realistic for many poor Peruvians
alarmed by
his economic "shock" program.
By contrast, Fujimori, a devout Roman Catholic, gained
the
fervent support of the small evangelical Protestant
community and
the mass of poor Peruvians (his own 100,000-member
Japanese
community was ambivalent, fearful of an ethnic backlash
should
his presidency be a failure). He forged a tacit alliance
with the
military but called the Roman Catholic Church "medieval
and
recalcitrant" for its opposition to birth control. As an
independent antipolitician, a Japanese-Peruvian, and a
native of
Lima's Barrios Altos, he was perceived as personifying not
only
change, but also the country's polyglot reality. His
Japanese
ancestry proved to be an asset, not only because Peruvians
claimed to admire Japan more than any other nation, but
also
because Fujimori held out the prospect of an efficient,
Japanese-
assisted solution to Peru's problems. His advocacy of
"work,
honesty, and technology," foreign investment to increase
productivity, economic development, and an end to food
subsidies
to make farming more profitable had popular appeal. The
masses
began to see Fujimori as someone who favored more
democracy,
greater openness, and less politiquería (petty
politics)
and authoritarianism than Vargas Llosa offered as head of
the
old-style Fredemo.
Fujimori stunned Vargas Llosa, as well as Peru and the
world,
by decisively winning the June 1990 runoff election. He
received
56.5 percent of the popular vote and carried twenty-three
of
Peru's twenty-four departments. Vargas Llosa's Fredemo
collected
only 33.9 percent of the vote.
Fujimori won the 1990 elections in large measure
because his
army of unpaid volunteers ran a grassroots campaign that
garnered
70 percent of the vote in the working-class districts of
Lima.
Political economist Carol Graham notes that "The 1990
electoral
results reflected a total dissatisfaction and lack of
faith on
the part of the populace in traditional politicians and
parties."
Indeed, polls had revealed a general view that a decade of
democracy had given Peruvians only corruption, ineptness,
chaos,
poverty, triple-digit inflation, disorder, hunger, and
malnutrition. For example, a poll in June 1989 found that
96
percent of Peruvians had little or no confidence in the
judicial
process, and 75 percent thought that the National Congress
was
obstructing economic progress.
With Fujimori's assumption of office on July 28, 1990
(Peru's
independence anniversary as well as Fujimori's birthday),
Peru
was no longer governed with the backing of a major
political
party, a factor that gave Fujimori unprecedented
independence.
Adopting a pragmatic approach to governing, Fujimori
refused to
make the traditional deals with any political parties.
Ignoring
the advisers who helped to get him elected, he recruited
others
to help him govern. He consulted specialists with
international
prestige, such as Harvard-trained economist Juan Carlos
Hurtado
Miller, who was named minister of economy and finance, and
economist Hernando de Soto, author of The Other
Path, an
acclaimed book on Peru's informal economy, as well as
relatively
unknown figures of Asian origin.
Like a true politician, Fujimori then reversed a major
campaign pledge by quickly adopting and implementing
Vargas
Llosa's draconian, neoliberal, economic austerity program
in an
attempt to bring the country's hyperinflation under
control and
reach an understanding with the international financial
community. It was bitter medicine, but Peruvians accepted
it
stoically. Meanwhile, Fujimori's approval rating plummeted
to 31
percent in July 1991, according to a poll conducted by
Apoyo, a
Lima-based private market research company. "Fujishock"
proved to
be effective, however. From 7,650 percent in 1990,
inflation
plunged to under 200 percent in 1991. But before that
happened,
Fujimori replaced Hurtado Miller as minister of economy
and
finance with Carlos Boloña Behr, a young economist with a
doctorate from Oxford University. The troubled Andean
nation
hence entered the 1990s with Fujimori serving as one of
its most
efficient, if authoritarian, democratically elected
civilian
presidents. Aided by the success of his anti-inflationary
measures, Fujimori soon improved his standing in the eyes
of most
Peruvians.
Despite his success in liberalizing the economy in his
first
year, Fujimori was unable to implement other economic
priorities
for lack of a legislative majority. The negative effects
of his
harsh economic policies were increased unemployment and
poverty.
Real incomes were cut in half in Fujimori's first year. By
1991,
according to the United Nations Economic Commission for
Latin America and the Caribbean
(ECLAC--see Glossary), real
wages in
Peru had plummeted by two-thirds since 1987. In 1990-91 an
additional 5 million Peruvians were pushed into extreme
poverty,
raising the overall figure to at least 13 million (60
percent of
the population). Only the informal economy enabled these
impoverished millions to survive, each year about 60,000
children
were reported to die from malnutrition and disease before
their
first birthday, and 75,000 before age five.
Peru's quality of life had declined drastically since
the
mid-1970s. In 1992 the Population Crisis Committee of the
United
States rated Lima, which has been growing by an estimated
400,000
new people annually, among the world's ten worst cities in
quality-of-life factors. In the United Nations Development
Programme's 1991 ranking of Peru's Human Development Index
(HDI),
a measure that combines per capita product with factors
such as
longevity and access to education, Peru ranked in
seventy-eighth
place worldwide, but fell to ninety-fifth place in the
1992
ranking of the HDI. Peru's socioeconomic statistics were
generally grim. Only 13 percent of national income in the
early
1990s went to the poorest 40 percent of the population.
The poor
were earning an average of US$200 a year in 1992. By 1990
the
state spent US$12.50 per person on health and education,
as
compared with US$49 in 1981. Improving Peru's public
education
remained an uphill struggle for the Fujimori government.
In 1990
less than 59 percent of school-age children attended
school.
During that year, almost 27,500 teachers, whose salary was
less
than US$60 a month, changed their professions. Most
schools
lacked even water, light, and sanitary facilities. In
1991, 16
percent of school children dropped out, according to the
Ministry
of Education.
Although the economy remained a major concern of
Peruvians,
about 68 percent of the citizens polled in a 1990 survey
identified the SL as the nation's most serious problem.
Political
violence continued unabated during 1991-92. In 1991 Peru
recorded
3,400 deaths from political violence, a 10 percent
increase over
1990. Peru remained in a state of national insecurity for
much of
1992 as a result of an economic depression and thirteen
years of
steadily increasing terrorism perpetrated by the SL. In
1992
political violence claimed 3,101 lives, with the SL and
forces of
public order responsible for 44 percent and 42 percent,
respectively, of the dead. By the end of 1992, a total of
28,809
people had fallen victim to political violence since the
SL began
its terrorist war in 1980, according to the National Human
Rights
Coordinating Group. An estimated US$22 billion in property
damage
was a by-product of this violence.
Since beginning its terrorism during Peru's democratic
elections in May 1980, the SL has been an implacable
threat to
the country's battered democracy. The widely reported
urban
terror perpetrated mainly by the SL, but also by the much
smaller, pro-Cuban Túpac Amaru Revolutionary Movement
(Movimiento
Revolucionario Túpac Amaru--MRTA), combined with economic
chaos,
gave Peru the notoriety of being South America's most
unstable
nation. In September 1991, Fortune magazine rated
Peru as
the riskiest country in the world for investment, and the
British
newsletter Latin American Special Reports ranked it
as the
Latin American country with the highest political risk and
the
region's highest percentage of poor (60 percent).
By the early 1990s, more than half the population was
living
in "emergency military zones," where the security forces
operated
without accountability to the central government. Thus,
the rural
residents were caught between two brutal armies of
occupation
that terrorized them on a daily basis for any perceived
sympathy
to, or collaboration with, the other side. The army, the
security
forces, and the SL have all systematically perpetrated
barbarous
crimes against the rural population, with the female
gender
suffering no less than the male. As one of the world's
most
brutal terrorist organizations, the SL's rural terror has
been a
major causative factor in the mass flight of Peruvians
from the
highlands to the cities, especially Lima, Arequipa, Cusco,
and
Ilo. Most Peruvians under twenty-four years of age were
abandoning rural areas for Lima and other coastal cities,
where
they were emigrating in large numbers, mostly to the
United
States.
Viewing the SL insurgency through theoretical lenses,
some
political scientists, such as Cynthia McClintock and
Gordon H.
McCormick, have depicted the SL as a peasant-based
movement, a
characterization that seemed to exaggerate the SL's
limited
support among the peasantry. Evidence to support the
applicability of paradigms of peasant rebellion to the
case of
the SL was lacking. In the early 1990s, the SL was
reliably
reported to be a largely nonpeasant organization. It
clearly
lacked the degree of peasant support needed for mobilizing
an
indigenous uprising comparable to those of the eighteenth
century, let alone a large enough fraction of the support
needed
in the pueblos jóvenes and other sectors to cause
an urban
uprising, as occurred in Nicaragua in 1979. SL militants
consisted primarily of highly indoctrinated, poor,
provincial,
mestizo teenagers in shantytown strongholds. SL leaders
were
largely white, middle-class, university-educated
ideologists from
various professions. The fanatical, ultraviolent SL was as
alien
to the vast majority of nonviolent, nonpolitical Peruvian
peasants and the urban poor as Cambodia's Khmer Rouge.
Although
it masqueraded as a political party and a peasant
movement, the
SL, like Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge, had succeeded only in
depopulating the countryside through terror rather than in
fomenting a popular peasant revolution.
The basic SL strategy supposedly was to "win" the
countryside, then to "encircle" and "strangle" Lima.
However, the
SL's actual power, because of the nature of terrorism as
the
instrument of the weak, was derived more from pervasive
fear
perpetrated by small terrorist elements than by military
strength. It was becoming increasingly evident that the SL
had
lost most of the coerced support that it once had among
the
peasantry and had failed to consolidate whatever supposed
political control it had in the highlands, despite, or
more
likely because of, its savage terror tactics. It appeared
that
what McCormick described as the SL's "control" and
"commanding
position" in the Sierra essentially resulted from its
filling of
a power vacuum rather than from any defeat of the army by
the
guerrilla forces. These forces avoided any confrontation
with the
approximately 3,400 personnel that, according to
McCormick, the
army had in the field at any one time.
McCormick's conventional assessment in congressional
testimony in March 1992 that the military "must serve as
the
principal weapon in the government's arsenal against the
SL"
neglected to take into account the increasingly stubborn
peasant
resistance to the SL. This was manifested in the
proliferation of
rondas campesinas (Peasant Patrols), which have
served as
legally recognized self-defense units for villages. For
years the
lightly armed rondas had been ineffective. However,
during
1992 Fujimori began arming them on a larger scale, and
they soon
became more effective than the government's
counterinsurgency
forces in thwarting the SL's plans for Maoist-style
domination of
the countryside. The 1,500 rondas operating in the
Mantaro
Valley in 1992 dealt major setbacks to the SL in this
strategic
region, which is Lima's breadbasket. Some analysts,
including
McClintock and McCormick, have downplayed the significance
of the
rondas; others have viewed them in a more positive
light,
especially after the rondas underwent a
transformation
from passivity to a lethal manifestation of popular
resistance to
the SL. Anthropologist Carlos Iván Degregori Caso has
described
the rondas as the Fujimori government's biggest
success in
the counterinsurgency war. By March 1992, more than 11,000
rifles
and shotguns had been distributed among the 200,000
members of
526 officially registered rondas (which may
actually
number about 2,000), and the Fujimori government began
handing
out arms to newly created, ronda-like, urban
self-defense
groups as well. That September the government, also using
the
rondas as a model, provided about 1,400 shotguns to
the
Asháninka, the biggest ethnic minority in Peru's Amazonian
region
and the main target of SL terrorism against ethnic groups
in
Amazonia.
Raúl González, a sociologist and Senderologist, has
noted
that the SL began making Lima the focus of its terrorism
in 1991
only after having lost in the countryside. As it
intensified its
violence in Lima, the SL appeared to be making strong
psychological headway in its plan for seizing control of
the
national capital through the use of bullets and bombs
instead of
ballots. A poll taken in Lima in June 1991 by Apoyo found
that 41
percent of respondents, totaling 15 percent of Lima's
metropolitan population, were able to justify subversion
as a
result of poverty. The poll's most important finding had
to do
with the public's impression of the SL as a political
group. The
results suggested that an estimated 12 percent of
respondents in
the poorer areas of Lima were concealing their sympathies
for the
SL because they feared the security forces. SL leader
Abimáel
Guzmán Reynoso ("Presidente Gonzálo") had a favorable
rating of
17 percent in the poorest stratum, and an estimated 38
percent
believed that the SL would be victorious. By September
1991, only
25 percent of Lima residents believed that the SL could be
defeated, according to a survey published in
Quehacer. The
Lima poll results seemed to underscore Doughty's point
that "the
interrelated ills of poverty, inequity, and ethnoracial
discrimination" are the basis for the SL's appeal. The
resentment
of Peru's native American and mestizo majority against the
European elite that traditionally has ruled in Lima has
been a
driving force behind the SL insurgency.
Since it began in early 1991, the SL's campaign to
infiltrate
and radicalize Lima's shantytowns has had a clear impact
on these
huge population centers. A poll taken by Apoyo in mid-1991
found
that 64 percent of Lima residents felt that subversive
violence
was the greatest violence-related problem in Peru,
followed by
drug trafficking (16 percent) and abuse of authority and
repression (12 percent). The relatively low concern about
repression seemed surprising considering that the United
Nations
Human Rights Commission ranked Peru as number one or two
among
the world's nations at causing its own people to
"disappear" each
year during the 1988-91 period. In 1990 the number of
reported
disappearances was 251, as compared with 440 in 1989.
Other
groups, such as Amnesty International, put disappearances
two or
three times higher. The United Nations Working Party on
Disappeared Persons attributed 112 disappearances to Peru
in 1992
(still the world's highest incidence).
In a 1991 editorial, Graham noted that the SL, "by
targeting
corrupt officials and allowing nongovernmental and
health-care
organizations to continue operating in Lima's shantytowns,
was
capitalizing on the erosion of state credibility caused by
widespread corruption and violence." The SL's shantytown
tactics
turned violent, however, and by late 1991 or early 1992
the SL no
longer fit this Robin Hood-like description. According to
political scientist and Senderologist David Scott Palmer,
the SL
in early 1992 was fighting the local grassroots
organizations--
such as neighborhood committees, mothers' clubs, soup
kitchens,
and church-sponsored discussion groups--"hammer and tong"
and
imposing its own local organizations. The SL also began
assassinating popular community leaders, such as María
Elena
Moyano, the courageous deputy mayor of Villa El
Salvador--Lima's
best-organized and largest shantytown (with 350,000
residents)--
who had defiantly resisted the SL. As a result of
thirty-two
attacks in 1992, including ten assassinations of civic
leaders,
the SL attained control of Villa El Salvador's industrial
park,
many of its soup kitchens, and a local council. However,
despite
its efforts (which included assassinating Moyano's
successor in
January 1993), the SL failed to defeat the shantytown's
popular
organizations.
The increasing intensity of SL terrorism and
frustration with
congressional impediments to combatting it and supposedly
drug
trafficking were reported to be major motivations for
Fujimori's
military-backed self-coup (autogolpe) on April 5,
1992.
Fujimori cast aside Peru's twelve-year-old formal
democracy by
suspending the constitution of 1979, dissolving Congress,
and
dismissing the National Council of Magistrates, the
Tribunal of
Constitutional Guarantees, and the offices of the attorney
general. He announced the installation of a Government of
National Emergency and Reconstruction, headed by Oscar de
la
Puente Raygada Albela, president of the Council of
Ministers and
head of the Ministry of Foreign Relations.
Fujimori's abrogation of Peru's democratic system in a
bloodless autogolpe apparently was more widely
denounced
outside of Peru than inside the country. Major United
States
newspapers called Fujimori a dictator. James A. Baker,
then the
United States secretary of state, called the self-coup
"unjustified" and "an assault of democracy," and the
United
States suspended US$167 million in new aid assistance to
Peru.
The United States also scuttled a series of loans to Peru
from
industrialized countries and multilateral lending
organizations.
A threat interrelated with the insurgency and
corruption in
the military and security forces and one that has
concerned the
United States government far more than the governments of
Fujimori and his predecessors has been drug trafficking.
This
topic has been the dominant issue in United
States-Peruvian
bilateral relations because of Peru's status as the
world's
largest coca-leaf producer (accounting for about 65
percent of
total production). In its first military training funding
for
Peru since 1965, the United States approved US$35 million
in
military equipment and training for the army and police
forces in
July 1991. The accord also provided for US$60 million in
economic
aid to assist coca growers to switch to other crops.
Peruvians
were generally unenthusiastic about the interception
strategy,
however. In 1990 only 11 percent of Peruvians surveyed
considered
drug trafficking as the nation's most serious problem.
Echoing
this sentiment, Fujimori favored the substitution of crops
over
forced eradication, in open disagreement with the United
States.
In reaction to the autogolpe, the United States
suspended all military and economic aid and reduced its
counternarcotics presence in Peru by removing two large
radar
systems in Iquitos and Andoas and withdrawing twenty
Special
Forces troops, who had been training Peruvian police to
combat
drug traffickers. The Fujimori government expressed
greater
interest in United States assistance to the
counterinsurgency
effort than to the antidrug "war." Following his
autogolpe, Fujimori pleaded in Washington for a
US$300
million military aid package. But the administration of
President
George H.W. Bush was uninterested in Peru's plight.
Although the
army routed the MRTA from its bases of operation in the
Middle
Huallaga Valley in late 1992, the SL remained entrenched
in Upper
Huallaga and Central Huallaga.
For many Peruvians, the self-coup was a step forward,
even
though Peru's international shunning no doubt had a grave
impact
on the millions of Peruvians living in extreme poverty.
Fujimori's autogolpe actually raised the hopes of
many
Peruvians, who approved of his dissolving Congress and the
courts, which were widely seen as corrupt and detached
from the
people. According to a poll by the Lima-based Datum, only
16
percent opposed Fujimori's decision to modify the
constitution,
only 12 percent objected to his closing Congress, and only
2
percent faulted his intention to reorganize the judiciary,
popularly known as the "Palace of Injustice." In the view
of 85
percent, Fujimori would "structure a more efficient
legislature,"
and 84 percent believed he would make the judiciary more
honest.
In the opinion of 75 percent, he would solve the economic
crisis,
and more than 50 percent believed he would defeat
terrorism. An
Apoyo poll taken at the end of April 1992 gave Fujimori a
record
82 percent level of support. The sectors of society that
were
most vocal in supporting the autogolpe were the
military,
local businesspeople and exporters, and the urban middle
and
lower classes. Those sectors most opposed were the former
parliamentarians, the political class, intellectuals, and
sections of the media.
In McClintock's view, an important indicator of
Peruvians'
support for the former democracy was the high electoral
turnout:
approximately 80 percent of registered voters and 70
percent of
all potential voters in 1985 and 1990. Voting was, to be
sure,
compulsory. According to surveys by Datum, more than half
of
those who voted in 1990 would not have bothered had voting
not
been mandatory. The fine of 20 new soles (about US$12; for
value of the new
sol, see Glossary)
was a substantial penalty
for most
Peruvians, but the loss of a day's work to the bureaucracy
to pay
it was even worse.
Furthermore, the calls for a "return to democracy"
tended to
overlook the unrepresentative reality of Peruvian
democracy as it
had been practiced under the pseudo-democratic oligarchies
of
Belaúnde and García. As Graham points out, by 1990 Peru's
democratic institutions--the Congress, the judiciary, and
political parties--had become generally discredited and
the
viability of Peruvian democracy was threatened by "a
crisis of
representation." The members of the dissolved Congress
were seen
by most Peruvians as largely representing the white,
wealthier
residents of Lima. According to an Apoyo poll, Peru's
citizens
defined democracy as an elected president and a free
press, with
no mention of representative institutions. Additionally,
Palmer
notes that the number of provinces and department's under
military control "substantially eroded the formal
democratic
reality."
Popular surveys amply demonstrated the public's
distrust of
Peru's democratic institutions. In a Lima poll conducted
by Apoyo
in 1991, only three of thirteen institutions listed--the
Roman
Catholic Church, the media, and the armed
forces--generated more
trust than distrust. Congress, which engendered the most
distrust, was distrusted by 72 percent and trusted by only
19
percent. Following close behind was the judiciary, which
was
distrusted by 68 percent and trusted by only 22 percent.
The
presidency was distrusted by 61 percent and trusted by
only 26
percent. The Council of Ministers was distrusted by 60
percent
and trusted by only 24 percent. The National Police
(Policía
Nacional--PN) was distrusted by 61 percent and trusted by
only 33
percent. Political parties inspired the trust of only 13
percent
of polled citizens, whereas 76 percent distrusted them.
Low wages made both police personnel and judges, like
many
other public officials, susceptible to bribery and
contributed to
the inefficiency of the PN and the judiciary. A reported
1,300
policemen were dismissed in 1991, with many being sent to
prison
for involvement in offenses ranging from highway robbery
to
extortion and maltreatment of detainees.
Fujimori actively sought a reformed version of Peru's
short-
lived democracy, even "a profound transformation," not a
return
to it. In a remark quoted by the New York Times,
political
scientist Robert Pastor alluded to the inherent
contradiction in
the "return to democracy" argument. "Simply restoring the
democratic status quo ante," Pastor said, "will not work
because
it was not working before." Bernard W. Aronson, the United
States
Department of State's assistant secretary for
inter-American
affairs, noted to Congress on May 7, 1992, that
"ironically,
nobody in Peru, whether the opposition or the Fujimori
government, is arguing they should go back to the status
quo ante
of April 5; nobody is quarreling with the need for
fundamental
reforms." That, indeed, was Fujimori's announced plan. The
question remained whether he was sincere in wanting to
implement
it in a timely manner, or would remain "emperor" for ten
years.
(Fujimori had quipped to a meeting of businesspeople in
April
1992 that Peru needed an emperor.)
During the remainder of 1992, Fujimori seemed serious
in his
stated mission to "moralize" and reform what had been a
corrupt
and unrepresentative pseudo-democracy. In his speech to
the
Organization of American States
(OAS--see Glossary)
meeting in
Nassau, the Bahamas, on May 18, and in his message to the
nation
on July 28, Fujimori committed himself to reestablishing
full
institutional democracy. He also underscored the main
deficiency
of the defunct democracy--the fact that representatives
did not
represent and were not accountable to their districts. He
maintained that the country's political party system was
basically undemocratic because the parties were dominated
by
professional cliques (cúpulas), who restricted
membership
and imposed their handpicked candidates for elective posts
from
closed lists (listas cerradas). He added that party
influence had spread to virtually all social institutions,
which
were thus forced to be linked to the "partyocracy."
Fujimori's
conciliatory speech, combined with factors such as his
domestic
popularity, international pressure, and Boloña's efforts
to win
"reinsertion" in the international financial community
helped to
explain why the OAS's response to the self-coup was
generally
mild. The government of Japan, by conditioning Japanese
aid on a
swift return to democracy, reportedly was crucial in
persuading
Fujimori not to delay in carrying out his promise to
create a new
democratic system.
During 1992 Fujimori enacted reforms aimed at
modernizing the
whole political system, and he also sought to include the
economic and social structures, including the educational
system,
in this modernization program. In the political arena, he
proposed creating a system that would give power to the
people
rather than the leading cliques in the political parties.
The
centerpiece of the new system was the Democratic
Constituent
Congress (Congreso Constituyente Democrático--CCD), an
autonomous, supposedly "sovereign," single-chamber body
designed
to temporarily replace the dissolved Congress, revise
Peru's
constitution of 1979, serve as a legislature until the end
of
Fujimori's legal term in July 1995, and reorganize the
judiciary.
Fujimori quickly forged a consensus on the need for a
reform
of the judiciary and for establishing a mechanism to
reform the
constitution of 1979. A month after his self-coup,
Fujimori put
the prisons under the control of the National Police,
restored
order in them, and improved conditions for inmates.
However,
little headway was made to reduce the huge backlog of
cases
awaiting trial. In August 1992, he completed the
tightening of
the judicial system to deal more effectively with
subversive
groups by adopting the Colombian practice of trial by
"faceless"
judges. Fujimori's earlier martial law decree ensured that
anyone
charged with homicide would be tried by military
tribunals. All
other terrorist-related offenses would be tried summarily
by the
anonymous judges, who would sign their verdicts with code
names.
Terrorist offenses would be categorized as treason,
punishable by
a sentence of life imprisonment instead of the previous
maximum
of twenty-five years. Judicial reforms enacted by the CCD
in
March 1993 included a new system for the appointment of
judges, a
task previously performed in a politicized fashion by the
National Council of Magistrates. The reform supposedly
eliminated
political interference by the executive and legislative
branches
in the designation of judges by giving the Council and the
District Councils exclusive responsibility for the
selection,
appointment, and promotion of judges. Another reform was
the
creation of the School for Magistrates (Academia de la
Magistratura).
Fujimori also sought to expedite the decentralization
and
deconcentration of power through the transfer of power and
resources to local government. The establishment of
regional
governments in Peru had been proceeding slowly since 1980.
Two
weeks after his autogolpe, Fujimori dissolved the
existing
regional assemblies and regional councils of all regional
governments, which he had lambasted as corrupt and
inefficient
forums that were obstructing his economic reforms. Most of
the
existing regional structures were controlled by
left-of-center
opposition parties, including García's American Popular
Revolutionary Alliance (Alianza Popular Revolucionaria
Americana-
-APRA).
The CCD was tasked with reassessing the interrupted
regionalization process and deciding whether to retain the
model
prescribed by the 1988 Law on Regionalization Bases or set
new
guidelines that would correct the previous system's
errors. The
Fujimori government regarded the regionalization program
as a
bureaucratic nightmare and advocated a process of
decentralization. It favored setting up four or five
macroregions
that would be able to coordinate large projects involving
vast
contiguous geographic areas. These macroregions would be
intermediate units facilitating development, territorial
organization, and administration between the central and
municipal governments. The state would thus be organized
into two
levels: the central government, with regulatory and
supervisory
functions, and the municipal governments, for which the
regional
entity would serve an administrative function (although
Lima and
the constitutional province of Callao would have the same
mayor,
Callao would retain control of its own revenues and
benefits). To
this end, a decree established a Provisional
Administrative
Council (Consejo Administrativo Provisional) in each
region.
Fujimori stated on several occasions during 1992 that
no
political or economic reforms would succeed unless the SL
insurgency was defeated first. The SL and MRTA initially
had
welcomed the autogolpe, expecting that repression
would
further polarize the country. Instead, repression did not
materialize and the SL suffered its first major reversal
when the
National Counterterrorism Division (Dirección Nacional
Contra el
Terrorismo--Dincote) finally caught up with Guzmán and
other top
SL leaders on September 16, 1992. Once again, the army was
upstaged in the counterinsurgency war. Whereas Fujimori's
support
had slipped to a still impressive 65 percent in an Apoyo
poll
taken on July 12, 1992, when the SL offensive in Lima was
intensifying, and to 60 percent in early August, an Apoyo
poll
published on September 20 gave him a healthy 74 percent
level of
support. In terms of political power in Peru, Guzmán was
ranked
number three in mid-1992 by Debate magazine's
annual
survey of power in Peru, as based on an opinion poll.
Taking
advantage of Guzmán's capture, Fujimori also launched a
diplomatic campaign against the SL's networks in Europe
and the
United States. He described the networks as consisting of
thirty-
six organizations and about 100 members, mostly Peruvians,
who
acted as SL "ambassadors" responsible for distributing
propaganda
and raising funds.
In the wake of Guzmán's capture, the SL's prospects for
seizing power seemed greatly diminished. Journalist
Gustavo
Gorriti Ellenbogen noted in Lima's centrist Caretas
news
magazine that while Guzmán was operating underground, his
cult of
personality was the SL's principal weapon. Gorriti added
that
with Guzmán's capture this cult became the SL's greatest
point of
vulnerability and probably will have "a corrosive and
destructive
effect on Shining Path." Dincote not only captured the
SL's
guiding light, thereby destroying his mythical status, but
also
effectively decapitated the SL's organizational leadership
and
dismantled its Lima apparatus, both of which were led to a
large
extent by women.
Peruvian women traditionally have been excluded from
male-
dominated institutions at all levels of government and
subjected
to a multitude of other social injustices. Some of the
more
activist women have had a fatal attraction to the SL,
which has
vowed to sweep away these discredited governing structures
and
replace them with female-dominated "people's committees."
The
SL's female members proved to be as ruthless as its male
members,
and apparently more dominant. Before the arrests in
September and
October 1992, women had constituted a reported 56 percent
of the
SL's top leadership. In 1992 at least eight members of the
SL's
nineteen-member Central Committee were women. Also
captured with
Guzmán was Elena Albertina Iparraguirre Revoredo
("Miriam"), who
occupied the number-two position in the SL's top
decision-making
body, the Politburo (which had various names). Captured
documents
enabled Dincote to neutralize the SL's Lima-based
organization
with the arrests of other key female leaders, such as
Laura
Zambrano Padilla ("Comrade Meche"), a former teacher who
had
headed the SL's Lima Metropolitan Committee, which planned
and
implemented terrorist actions in the capital. The
right-of-center
Expreso reported that the SL had lost about 70
percent of
its ruling cadres because of the arrests. In October
security
forces captured four of the five top leaders of Popular
Aid
(Socorro Popular), another SL group responsible for SL
military
operations in Lima. Among those captured was Martha Huatay
Ruíz
("Tota"), a lawyer and reportedly the SL's highest-ranking
leader
still at large. At the end of 1992, Fujimori claimed that
95
percent of the SL leadership had been captured and
imprisoned for
life. According to Peruvian news media, instead of having
one
leader the remaining SL organization had decided on a
three-
person directorate of hardliners. Two of these individuals
were
reported to be Teresa Durand Araujo ("Juana") and her
nephew,
Oscar Alberto Ramírez Durand ("Feliciano"), described as
the SL's
military commander, an unscrupulous and violence-prone
former law
student and the son of an army general. The third
reportedly was
Angélica Salas de la Crúz ("Lucía").
Despite the SL's leadership losses, its terrorist
capability
and clandestine military structure remained largely intact
and
continued to pose a serious threat. Funded with millions
of
dollars in drug "taxes," the SL entered a new phase of its
multistaged war in the second half of 1992. It passed from
what
it grandly termed "strategic balance" (with the army) to
"strategic offensive," which included striking at
prominent
targets in Lima. SL attacks actually intensified after
Guzmán's
arrest, although the statistics vary widely. De Soto's
Legal
Defense Institute (Instituto de Defensa Legal--IDL),
itself the
target of SL bomb attacks on two occasions, reported that
the SL
perpetrated 474 attacks nationwide in the three months
after
Guzmán's capture, killing 365 people, or about 25 percent
more
than in the three months preceding Guzmán's arrest. The
Lima-
based Institute for National Defense Research (Instituto
para
Investigaciones de la Defensa Nacional--Iniden) reported
that 653
people were killed as a result of 502 terrorist attacks
perpetrated during the three months that followed Guzmán's
arrest. Peru's most violent month of 1992 was November,
when 279
people were killed in 226 terrorist attacks, according to
Iniden.
The fatal casualties that month included seventy-five SL
militants, ninety-two MRTA members, nine soldiers,
thirteen
members of the PN, and ninety civilians. The stepped-up
violence
reflected growing desperation on the part of both
terrorist
groups.
Fujimori continued to rely mainly on further
militarization
of the government's counterinsurgency efforts against the
SL.
However, many members of the military and PN--demoralized
by low
salaries, corruption, and obsolete equipment--lacked the
sense of
mission that their counterparts in Chile, Argentina, and
Uruguay
had when threatened by urban terrorism. Thus, in addition
to the
SL and MRTA, Fujimori had to cope with the ever-present
threat of
a military coup. Discontent within the ranks reportedly
had been
mounting during 1992 as a result of what military
commanders
viewed as the army's loss of institutional status, reduced
prestige in society, low pay, and the military's
politicization
by the government. Former president Belaúnde called for a
military coup against Fujimori to return the nation to
democracy,
implying that the military would graciously return to the
barracks after overseeing a quick transition to democratic
rule.
(Having himself been overthrown by the military in 1968,
Belaúnde
sounded more like an oligarch than a democrat.)
Military resentment focused in particular on Vladimiro
Montesinos Torres, a shadowy adviser of the presidency in
internal security affairs accountable only to Fujimori.
Montesinos has served as Fujimori's reputed intermediary
with the
faction of the military that has been Fujimori's main base
of
support. Montesinos reportedly was seen by the military in
general as having obtained too much influence over
promotions in
the armed forces and too much power over the National
Intelligence Service (Servicio de Inteligencia
Nacional--SIN),
which he designed. According to the London-based Latin
America
Monitor, Captain Montesinos was expelled from the army
in
1976, allegedly for selling military secrets to
foreigners, and
spent a year in prison for disobedience. He then earned a
degree
in criminal law and "amassed a fortune by defending and
representing drug traffickers."
The degree of influence that Montesinos had in
Fujimori's
inner circle was reflected in Debate's 1991 annual
survey,
which put Montesinos in twelfth place. But in the Lima
magazine's
1992 poll, Montesinos rose to fourth place. The negative
press
reports and the military resentment failed to sway
Fujimori's
stated total confidence in Montesinos. Describing
Montesinos as a
"good friend," Fujimori somewhat implausibly denied that
Montesinos supported any promotions or even that he served
as an
adviser. Given the military's fickle support of Fujimori,
the
Montesinos factor appeared to be a bold test of Fujimori's
authority over the armed forces. Palmer has posed pointed
questions as to why the military has allowed itself to be
subjected to Montesinos's machinations, and whether this
is a
sign of military weakness. Possible explanations appeared
to be
in Montesinos's ability to purge the military of any
independent-
minded officers and in Degregori's observation that the
military's power had diminished. Moreover, as political
scientist
Enrique Obando has noted, a legislative decree of November
1991
gave Fujimori himself the power to choose the command of
the
armed forces, thereby making political loyalty a more
important
qualification than professional capability.
Thanks in no small part to Montesinos, Fujimori did not
appear to be in the process of becoming a figurehead
president
like Uruguay's Juan María Bordaberry Arocena (1972-76),
who gave
free rein to the military to eliminate the urban Tupamaro
guerrillas only to be later replaced by a military man.
Although
Fujimori was hardly immune from a similar fate. Graham's
assertion that "the situation under Fujimori was one of de
facto
military control" seemed to be contradicted somewhat by
Montesinos's influence, the military's continuing salary
grievances, and Fujimori's success thus far in removing
military
commanders whenever they appeared to pose a potential
threat to
his authority. Nevertheless, Fujimori's minister of
interior and
his minister of defense were both army generals. And the
military
clearly had become more politicized during the Fujimori
administration, as demonstrated by Fujimori's personal
involvement in military promotions and by a political
speech
given in front of him by Division General Nicolás Hermoza
Ríos,
on taking over the Armed Forces Joint Command on January
2, 1992.
Whether Fujimori would succeed in keeping the military at
bay
remained to be seen, but politicizing the institution
risked
dividing it. Fujimori publicly reiterated that "political
power
rules over the military, and the president is the supreme
commander of the armed forces." However, the depth of
Fujimori's
power over the military was still unclear in early 1993.
A lack of total control by Fujimori over the military
was
suggested by credible allegations that extremist elements
of the
army were operating with impunity by carrying out
extralegal
actions against suspected terrorists, without Fujimori's
knowledge. During the García government, a paramilitary
death
squad called the Rodrigo Franco Command operated as an
extralegal
enforcement arm of the APRA under the direct control of
the
minister of interior. To the extent that Fujimori prove
unable to
rein in the military extremists, they posed a potential
threat to
his authority and the human rights standing of his
government.
According to the United Nations, the number of
"extra-judicial
executions" was rising during Fujimori's government from
82 in
1990 to 99 in 1991 and 114 in 1992.
Discontent was rife in the Peruvian military in 1992. A
pressing military issue in Peru seemed to be morale
problems
fueled by low military salaries. By 1992 monthly pay for a
captain had declined to about US$120; a major, US$230; a
colonel,
between US$250 and US$300; and a general, between US$300
and
US$500. Low pay presumably was a major reason for the high
desertion rates, estimated during 1992 at 40 percent of
conscripts and thirty-five trained officers a month. By
the time
of Fujimori's autogolpe, military unrest over low
salaries
reportedly had become intense, with a widening split
between low-
ranking and high-ranking officers. Indeed, in early 1992 a
secretive cabal of middle-ranking officers, called Comaca
(Commanders, Majors, and Captains), formed to plan
rebellions
against corrupt military leaders. Fujimori's failure to
deliver
on his pre-autogolpe promise to improve military
pay was
particularly upsetting to many soldiers and middle-ranking
army
officers, many of whom had expected significant salary
increases
in exchange for supporting the self-coup.
Fujimori took a risk by giving up his constitutional
legitimacy and putting himself at the disposal of the
military
while co-opting the top military leadership. This fact
became
evident on November 13, 1992, when three recently retired
generals, including the commander of the army, led a coup
attempt
that was crushed by the loyal military. The abortive
action
reportedly was motivated by a variety of factors,
including
grievances over low salaries and promotions and Fujimori's
announced stand to punish navy officers involved in an
embezzlement scandal. Another reported reason was his
November 13
decree granting him direct authority to dismiss and assign
all
military officers above the rank of lieutenant
(previously,
officers could be removed only on retirement or for
misconduct).
Several of the coup plotters had been summarily retired
from
active service by Fujimori and Montesinos.
Fujimori claimed that opposition politicians were
behind the
coup attempt and that it was also a plot to prevent the
CCD
elections and to assassinate him. Whatever its
motivations, he
appeared to have calculated correctly that his popular
support
and the predominantly loyal military would obviate a
military
coup and that the armed forces did not want to take
control and
hence to assume responsibility for the nation's economic,
social,
and political crises (for which they already bore much
blame from
the disastrous period of military rule in 1968-80).
Nevertheless,
Fujimori's heavy-handed treatment of the coup members
reportedly
caused widespread resentment within the armed forces.
Breaking
with military tradition, the government incarcerated the
conspirators in the civilian Canto Grande Prison instead
of in a
military prison. Brigade General Alberto Arciniega Huby, a
member
of the Military Tribunal that had summarily condemned
Guzmán to
life imprisonment and fined him about US$25 billion, fled
into
exile after being retired for criticizing the
imprisonments of
the coupists. (Two generals who led the coup attempt later
received seven- to eight-year prison terms, and twenty-six
other
military officers were given prison sentences ranging from
six
months to seven years, however, eleven of the officers
received
presidential pardons in May 1993, and most others were
expected
to be pardoned as well.) In the analysis of Enrique
Obando, the
coup attempt constituted the beginning of a struggle in
the army
between "institutionalist" officers, represented by the
coup
members, and the "co-opted high command," a struggle
likely to be
a continuing source of instability for the government.
The election of the CCD's eighty members in a single
nationwide district went ahead as scheduled on November
22, 1992.
Fujimori's New Majority Movement (Movimiento Nueva
Mayoría)-
Change '90 coalition won control of the CCD by garnering
43
percent of the vote and 44 seats (almost the same number
of seats
that Change '90 had in the former 240-member Congress).
Nevertheless, Fujimori had expected to win 50 seats. The
eighteen
other political groups that participated in the CCD
elections did
not include García's APRA and a number of other leftist
parties,
nor Belaúnde's AP or Vargas Llosa's Liberty Movement, all
of
which boycotted them. The conservative PPC contested the
elections and won 7.7 percent of the vote, or nine seats.
About
22 percent of the voters cast blank or deliberately
spoiled
ballots. In an internal CCD election held on December 29,
New
Majority's leader, Jaime Yoshiyama Tanaka, a
Harvard-trained
economist who had been serving as Fujimori's minister of
energy
and mines, was elected CCD president with 60 votes in
favor (15
ballots were blank).
Some Peru analysts found fault with the CCD elections.
McClintock accused Fujimori of "manipulating" them. In her
view,
the elections were "very problematical" because "there
were many
delays in the recognition of lists and the campaign time
was very
short." Critics also contended that the electoral rules
were
skewed in Fujimori's favor and that the CCD was designed
to be
subservient to executive authority. Nevertheless, 200 OAS
observers determined that the elections were open and
fair.
Despite the CCD elections, United States-Peruvian
relations
remained cool in late 1992. The United States lacked any
apparent
role or influence in Lima and did not even have an
ambassador in
Lima, in part because its ambassador's residence suffered
extensive damage from a massive SL car bomb in February
1992 (a
new ambassador was scheduled to assume the post in 1993).
Following the CCD elections, Japan, attracted by
Fujimori's
ancestry and the absence of the United States, remained
the major
foreign player in Peru, providing US$400 million in aid in
1991
and substantial amounts in 1992 as well. The United States
began
to show some interest, however, by agreeing to jointly
lead, with
Japan, the Support Group (Grupo de Apoyo) for Peru for
1993. The
administration of President Bill Clinton concluded in
March 1993
that Peru's human rights record had improved sufficiently
to
justify United States assistance to Peru in the payment of
its
arrears with the International Monetary Fund
(IMF--see Glossary)
and the
World Bank (see Glossary).
As in Bolivia, the United States strategy to interdict
drugs
and reduce coca-growing had made very little progress and
lacked
public support. By late 1992, less than one-half of 1
percent of
raw cocaine reportedly was being intercepted, and
coca-growing
was expanding at a rapid rate. In contrast, legal
agriculture
remained stagnant. The United States Drug Enforcement
Administration's largest and most important base in Latin
America
continued to operate at Santa Lucía in the Upper Huallaga
Valley.
According to Lima's La República, drug-trafficking
activities had increased in the Huallaga region by late
November
1992, aided by the protection of some army and PN forces
in the
area. Some independent journalists reportedly had been
threatened
and occasionally assassinated by narco-hit men for
reporting on
military corruption. In March 1993, Defense Minister
Víctor Malca
Villanueva informed the congressional drugs commission
that
seventy-four members of the armed forces were being tried
for
drug trafficking, but he denied that armed forces officers
were
paying bribes in order to serve in cocaine zones.
On the economic front, trends reportedly were beginning
to
tilt slightly in Fujimori's favor by the end of 1992,
according
to economist John Sheahan. Inflation was down from 60
percent a
month at the end of García's presidency to 3.8 percent,
mainly as
a result of the tough economic-adjustment program
introduced
prior to the autogolpe. The accumulated inflation
rate for
1992 amounted to 56.7 percent, the lowest rate in fifteen
years.
In addition, the US$22-billion debt was being serviced,
the
budget was being balanced, the nation's reserves had been
restored to almost US$2 billion, privatization was
proceeding,
and Fujimori's incentives for foreign investment were
technically
among the most competitive in Latin America. The
privatization
process, which began in May 1992 with the government's
announcement of its plans to sell off all 200 of its
money-losing
state companies, encountered a series of snags during the
year.
Nevertheless, Peru's first major sale of a state-owned
industrial
enterprise, the Hierroperú, S.A. mining company, went to a
Chinese state-owned corporation, making China the
second-largest
foreign investor in Peru, after the Southern Peru Copper
Corporation.
The improving direction of some economic indicators,
however,
still did little to alleviate the plight of most
Peruvians, who
were consumed with the daily struggle for survival. The
gross domestic product
(GDP--see Glossary)
fell in 1992 by about 3
percent, in a continuing recession. The lower class was
living on
survival wages and meager earnings, and the middle class
was
becoming increasingly impoverished. Per capita income had
regressed to 1960s' levels. In 1992 only 15 percent of
Lima's
work force was employed adequately, as compared with 60
percent
in 1987. State employees reportedly were earning only 15
percent
of what they did in 1988. By early 1993, the public sector
had
shed 500,000 employees since Fujimori's election, or about
half
of the country's total public-sector workforce. As a
result of
the government's attempts to modernize the agricultural
sector by
opening the market and eliminating credits and subsidies,
many
farmers were finding coca to be the only profitable crop.
The
expansion of coca-growing was accelerating ecological
devastation
in Amazonia. In short, the country's economic plight was
profoundly altering Peru's society and environment.
Nevertheless, in late 1992 Sheahan saw some basis for
optimism if more directive economic strategies were
adopted to
reduce poverty, to make the export sector more competitive
(Peru's new sol had become overvalued as a result of
excessive
inflow of dollars, making exports less competitive), and
to
establish a stronger tax base. The latter, the Achilles'
Heel of
the economy, was dependent on the willingness of middle-
and
upper-income groups to accept higher taxation, a necessity
to
avoid inflation, according to economist Jeffrey D. Sachs.
Fujimori's sharp increase in property tax rates in 1991
created a
public outcry, but inflation was brought under control. In
Sheahan's analysis, Peru had nearly all the economic
conditions
needed for economic reactivation without inflation:
underutilized
capacity of the industrial sector, an abundance of skilled
and
unskilled labor, and growing capital imports needed for
rising
production.
How committed Fujimori was to fully reinstituting a
democratic system remained to be seen. His government
decreed
somewhat prematurely on December 29, 1992, that it had
ended the
transitional stage to democracy with the installation of
the CCD.
The Fujimori government clearly improved its
semi-legitimacy by
holding the second national electoral process since the
autogolpe--the municipal elections of January 29,
1993,
which were also monitored by OAS observers. In contrast to
the
November 1989 municipal elections, which the SL disrupted
by
selective assassinations of mayors and mayoral candidates,
some
12,000 candidates, spurning SL threats, registered without
incident for the local 1993 elections in 187 provincial
mayoralties and 1,599 district mayoralties, even in the
SL's
traditional stronghold of Ayacucho. The elections swept
nonideological independents into office across the
country, at
the expense of candidates from the traditional political
parties
and Fujimori's New Majority Movement-Change '90 coalition
of
allied independents. This political trend was most evident
in
Lima, whose independent mayor, Ricardo Belmont, was
reelected
with nearly 48 percent of the votes. APRA, which had long
dominated politics, did poorly in the municipal elections,
winning only two mayoralties in its traditional stronghold
in the
north; its mayoral candidate in Lima received only 3
percent of
the vote.
Contrary to the judgments of his foreign critics,
Fujimori
did not fit the mold of a traditional Latin American
dictator. In
a 1993 article, McClintock labeled Fujimori a "caudillo,"
a term
usually denoting a military dictator (but occasionally a
civilian
one) interested in maintaining power at any cost,
maximizing
personal gain, and exercising extremely repressive rule.
This
generally accepted definition, although applicable to
caudillos
such as Nicaragua's General Anastasio Somoza Debayle and
Chile's
General Augusto Pinochet Ugarte, did not seem to fit
Fujimori.
His uncaudillo-like style of governing has been described
as
efficient, unconventional, anti-establishment, combative,
brusque, astutely cautious, pragmatic, enigmatic, and low-
profile. Fujimori has also been described by foreign
journalists
as an autocrat, a term denoting that he rules with
unlimited
power and influence. Yet, it seemed clear that his power
over and
influence with the military has been tenuous, and that he
was not
immune from being overthrown by the armed forces. His
overthrow,
moreover, would, as Degregori has warned, create a
"political
vacuum." That scenario could allow a real caudillo to take
power.
Although he sought to emulate Pinochet's authoritarian
implementation of a free-market economy, Fujimori's rule
appeared
to be no more than moderately repressive and far more
responsive
to international pressures to restore a democratic system.
Few
dictators have been known to visit urban shantytowns and
rural
squatter settlements every week and to enjoy such high
popularity
ratings, as Fujimori has, to the consternation of the
elites and
his foreign critics. Polls throughout 1992 indicated that
he
continued to be viewed as one of Latin America's most
popular
presidents. According to a poll conducted in Lima by the
Imasen
Company in December 1992, Fujimori was maintaining his
popularity
at 63.3 percent. Even his countersubversive policy
received a 74-
percent approval rating in a poll conducted in Lima in
January
1993.
An antipolitician and an authoritarian with a sense of
mission, the professorial Fujimori seemed more like a
president
intent on "moralizing" and reforming Peru. He was clearly
determined to make those in positions of responsibility
accountable for violations of the public trust. "If we
want
moralization, we must be drastic," he told Peruvian
journalists
in an interview on January 2, 1993; "there are no partial
solutions." He was particularly determined to make García
an
example by seeking to extradite him from Colombia to face
trial
for embezzlement of US$400,000 of state money and theft of
US$50
million from the Central Bank during his term. Fujimori
applied
his reformist zeal as equally to the Ministry of Foreign
Relations and the School of Diplomacy as to the
legislative and
judicial branches. Explaining that Peruvians had a right
to
expect results from the US$50 million per year spent by
the
ministry, Fujimori purged 117 diplomats (a fifth of the
diplomatic corps), who failed to meet his standards;
replaced the
traditional system of political appointment of ambassadors
with a
merit-based system; and opened up the elitist School of
Diplomacy
to nondiplomats.
In early 1993, the Fujimori government appeared to be
making
some progress in pulling the economy out of its deep
recession,
despite another change in the post of minister of economy
and
finance. Carlos Boloña, who oversaw the deregulation of
almost
every aspect of economic activity, resigned over his
opposition
to Fujimori's plan to relax the rigid economic program. He
was
replaced on January 8 by Jorge Camet Dickman, Fujimori's
former
minister of industry, domestic trade, tourism, and
integration
and former head of Peru's most important business
association.
Camet vowed to continue Boloña's economic program, but
with
greater support to social sectors. Camet was known as a
successful engineer and entrepreneur, but, unlike Boloña,
he
reportedly lacked any experience in negotiating
international
financial agreements. In the wake of Boloña's departure,
annual
inflation raised its head again, totaling 17.5 percent in
the
first quarter. However, Peru's first-quarter Gross
National Product
(GNP--see Glossary)
grew 2.3 percent from the same period in 1992.
Fujimori seemed to be moving in the direction of
building a
reformed and more democratic governing system, and he
fully
expected to complete his term of office, barring an
ill-conceived
military coup by army officers on the payroll of drug
traffickers
or assassination by the extreme right or left. The
elections for
a broadly based CCD and municipal governments were steps
in the
right direction, but the formal transition to a reformed
democracy awaited the adoption of a new, improved
constitution
scheduled for July 28, 1993.
The draft of the new constitution, published in May
1993,
contains 148 new articles, 93 modified articles, and 59
unchanged
articles of the constitution of 1979.
Even with a new constitution, questions as to the CCD's
autonomy would likely continue, and some freedoms normally
expected of democracy probably would remain restricted.
For
example, although both Fujimori and General Juan Enrique
Briones
Dávila, the minister of interior, claimed in January 1993
that
total freedom of the press existed throughout the nation,
new
legislation providing life sentences to journalists
convicted of
being "apologists of terrorism" was intimidating to
reporters.
Some limited press restrictions had been imposed,
primarily
against newspapers affiliated with the SL and the MRTA.
Americas
Watch, a New York-based human rights group, reported in
early
1993 that "Freedom of the press in Peru is steadily
eroding in
what appears to be a broad campaign by the Fujimori
government to
intimidate or silence critics and political opponents." In
early
1993, Enrique Zileri Gibson, editor of the weekly news
magazine
Caretas, was barred from leaving the country, and
his
assets were frozen under the terms of his sentence for
defaming
Montesinos by characterizing him as a "Rasputin." (If
there was
an indirect analogy between the illiterate mystic Rasputin
and
the well-informed Montesinos, it may be found in
Rasputin's
influence over Czarina Alexandra on appointments and
dismissals
of high-ranking government officials and in Czar Nicholas
II's
decision to ignore continued allegations of wrongdoing by
Rasputin after expelling him once, only to have the
czarina
return him to the palace.) Despite the Fujimori
government's
action against Zileri, Caretas continued to publish
articles critical of the government and Fujimori in
particular.
Fujimori, for his part, continued to make himself
accessible to
the press by giving lengthy weekly interviews in which he
has
shown himself adept at putting a favorable "spin" on the
news.
His critics notwithstanding, Fujimori was convinced
that his
authoritarian measures were rapidly pacifying Peru and
setting
the stage for a free-market economic boom in the
mid-1990s. He
was expected to continue pushing ahead with liberal
policies,
speeding up the privatization process, controlling
inflation, and
promoting the international reinsertion of Peru. Indeed,
in sharp
contrast to Peru's standing in 1991, investor confidence
in Peru
was soaring by early 1993, buoyed by government progress
against
terrorism, the IMF's endorsement of the country's economic
program, and Fujimori's liberal foreign investment
regulations.
Lima's stock index had risen in real terms by 138 percent,
one of
the highest rankings in terms of growth among world
markets.
France's Crédit Lyonnais (a state-owned bank slated to be
privatized) became the first foreign bank in many years to
assume
majority control of a Peruvian bank, the Banco de Lima.
Nevertheless, businesses still faced terrorist sabotage,
deteriorating infrastructure, and miserable social
conditions. It
seemed doubtful that Peru would be able to imitate the
example of
its far more developed and democratic southern neighbor,
Chile,
whose economy was booming as a result of economic and
political
reforms. Peru's intractable problems, particularly the
poverty of
the great mass of Peruvians and the rapidly growing
population
rate, weighed heavily against the nation's emulation of
Chile's
rising level of development. But Fujimori, in contrast to
his
status quo predecessors, namely García and Belaúnde,
appeared to
be making progress in moving the country in the direction
of
significant political and economic reforms and eventual
defeat of
the SL and the MRTA (the latter was nearly neutralized in
April
1993 with the recapture of a top leader, María Lucero
Cumpa
Miranda).
Peruvians, for their part, expected Fujimori to keep to
his
timetable of eliminating the SL threat by the end of his
term on
July 28, 1995. In 1992 Senderologists had differing views
on the
SL's chances of seizing power before the end of the
twentieth
century, as it had vowed to do. McCormick was among those
who
considered an SL victory by 2000 to be likely. Others,
including
Palmer, asserted that the Fujimori government was stronger
than
assumed, that the SL was weaker than assumed, and, thus,
an SL
takeover was unlikely. In the more blunt assessment of
Raúl
González, the SL's chances of seizing power were "nil." In
April
1993, with most SL leaders in prison, the latter two views
appeared to be closer to the mark. Nevertheless, the SL
reportedly had decided on a strategy of total
militarization and
appeared to be still capable of continuing its terrorist
activities indefinitely.
Peruvians also expected Fujimori to comply with the
results
of the 1995 presidential elections, even though his
authoritarian
tendencies seemed to run counter to his oft-stated
intention to
step down at the end of his term in 1995. In early January
1993,
he signed some fifty decrees designed to consolidate
presidential
power before the CCD became operational that month. These
decrees
included a provision, approved by the CCD, for successive
presidential reelection (which was included in the draft
of the
new constitution) and the less justifiable power to
dissolve
Congress. With his approval ratings still in the 62 to 67
percent
range in April 1993, it seemed conceivable that Fujimori
could
complete his semi-legitimate term with a substantial
measure of
his extraordinary popularity intact. An Apoyo poll that
month
found that 47 percent of the population would reelect him
in the
1995 election. Thus, should he decide in April 1995 to be
a
candidate he could remain an "emperor," with a renewed
mandate of
legitimacy, for much of the decade by winning reelection.
However, if he failed to restore full democratic freedoms
and
guarantees of respect for human rights, he risked renewed
international isolation of Peru, which would likely have
grave
consequences for the economy, political stability, and the
counterterrorism war.
June 1, 1993
Rex A. Hudson
Data as of September 1992
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