Democracy and the Armed Forces in Peru: Inoperative at Any Cost?

[blockquote source=»»]»Despite the highly touted and real economic bonanza our country has enjoyed, very 
little has been done to have a dissuasive Armed Forces, leaving our Nation in a 
dangerous state of defenselessness.  Unlike our neighboring countries, which during
the same period have substantially increased their defense budgets in relation to ours«.

Open Letter to the Peruvian People, 2/9/11, signed by 62 retired
generals, military ministers and chiefs of command.

[/blockquote]

Among the challenges facing any newly elected government, is how to deal with
the so-called “de facto powers” (poderes fácticos), those that did not elect you but
can make life difficult if you don´t get along with them.  In Perú these include
powerful national and transnational corporations, the U.S. government, the
Catholic Church and the Armed Forces.

So far, the Humala Administration has done a pretty good job negotiating with
corporate interests, exacting higher tax commitments from the mining industry
while retaining investor confidence.  It has not done so well at a defining a clear
stance vis-à-vis U.S. efforts to continue dictating drug policy, and has not yet
confronted the Catholic Church hierarchy, currently engaged in efforts to take
over Peru´s leading private university.

Yet the relationship that most puzzles analysts today, is that between the
government and the Armed Forces.  This is a country ruled directly or indirectly
by the military for much of its post-Independence history.  Will the election of a
career officer as president increase their institutional power? How will President
Humala’s background influence his appointments and policy decisions?  Do
22 years with the troops make him more or less sympathetic to demands from
the barracks, to increase pay, upgrade acquisitions, or end the prosecution of
officers for crimes against humanity committed during the 1980s and 1990s?
So far there no clear answers, just speculation.

What is clear is how little most civilians know, or care, about the Peruvian
armed forces and their relationship to national development. With a few
exceptions, scholars have avoided researching the contemporary military, and
only a few journalists, such as Gustavo Gorriti and Ricardo Uceda, have consistently
covered them.  Among NGOs, the main focus has been pursuit of justice for civilian
victims of military abuse, a necessary effort that has persisted despite complicity
and obstructionism from diverse powers.  The Instituto de Defensa Legal (IDL)
also focuses on the rights of the men and women who comprise today´s troops.

What is missing from this picture is a significant public debate about the role of
this country’s Armed Forces in the 21st century.   Should they be a deterrent and
defensive force ?  If so, is neighboring Chile the main threat, or are Chileans
today more interested in profit than plunder?   Should the Army, Navy and Air Force
concentrate on internal security, fighting drug traffickers and subversives?
On building and rebuilding national infrastructure, along the lines of the Army Corps
of Engineers?  In a speech this week in Cuzco, President Humala encouraged
young people to join the Army, and lauded its role as a parallel educational
system, providing useful skills to low income youth; something the public school
system is not very good at.

Alas, a recent article by Ricardo Uceda in Poder magazine, confirms in part what
a prominent group of retired generals and former military leaders proclaimed this
week in an Open Letter published in a leading daily: the Peruvian military is virtually
inoperative and unfit to play any of these roles effectively.  Citing research by
economist Juan Mendoza, military scholar Enrique Obando, and inside sources,
Uceda details serious problems of outdated equipment and technology, low levels
of investment, low and unequal pay scales, a high ratio of officials to subalterns,
and a bankrupt pension system.

According to this report, Peru has one of the lowest per capita military expenditures in
the region.  Chile spends four times more on its armed forces; Ecuador, with less
than half of Peru´s population, spends  60% more.  Furthermore, only 5% of
Peruvian military spending goes to purchase arms and equipment, and less than
1% to training personnel.   Between 2001 and 2010, according to Mendoza, 90%
of the military budget went to paying active personnel and pensioners, and to daily
expenses such as food and transport for troops.  Yet military wages in this country are
the lowest in the region, with subalterns earning as little as US $490 per month, generals
$2,809 (a Bolivian general gets $6,851, his Chilean counterpart $5,072).  The author
also says that of 46,000 active service members, 10,000 are officials and 36,000 subalterns,
with a 3:1 ratio in the Air Force and a striking 2:1 in the Army.  Meanwhile, the military
pension fund (Caja de Pensiones Militar Policial) has run a deficit since 2005, costing
taxpayers S/23 million per month to meet current obligations to some 145,000 pensioners.

So who is responsible for this situation?   The generals now lay the blame on
outgoing president Alan Garcia, a stance which may be politically motivated, but
inaccurate.   This dates at least to the late 1970s, when the Revolutionary Government
of the Armed Forces retreated from power after 12 years of running the country (into
the ground, many would say).  The ruling junta, led by General Francisco Morales
Bermudez (1975-1980) and other signers of the recent letter, skillfully negotiated its
exit from government with leaders of Garcías APRA party and the center-right PPC
(SEE MY POST ON THIS).  Together they dominated a Constituent Assembly convened
by the Junta to delay the transition and institutionalize aspects of its statist agenda
and model of governance.

As a result of this process, the military hierarchy not only got a new constitution
(replaced in 1993 by one more to Fujimori´s liking), but also tacit immunity from
prosecution for acts committed during their years in power, and a persistent role in
national defense policy.  Apparently, on its way out the junta also established the
current pension scheme, one that was seriously underfinanced from the start. This
has been accompanied by a costly cédula viva (living decree) law guaranteeing retirees
a fully indexed pension equal to the salary of active duty counterparts.  According to
Uceda, another S/250 million was lost from the Caja due to corruption in the 1990s.

Civilian control over the military is fundamental to democracy.  Yet most civilian
leaders since 1980 have either abdicated to the Armed Forces or avoided their
concerns.   President Fernando Belaunde Terry (1980-1985) made peace with
the golpistas who sent him into exile in the 1970s, and as the Shining Path
insurgency appeared on the scene, he and Garcia (in 1985-1990, his first stint)
delegated the military de facto control over large expanses of national territory,
under constitutional states of emergency, a situation that persisted into the 1990s.
In 1992 most military leaders supported the auto-golpe led by President Alberto
Fujmori and his shady advisor Vladimiro Montecinos, a former Army captain and
CIA informer who created a huge web of political control and corruption.

By the time fully civilian government was restored in 2001 the military was
widely discredited, and there was little public support for increased spending on
defense.  Even with bonanza growth, the country has other development
priorities.  Yet as President Humala knows, and the generals made clear,
this problem will not simply go away.   As a leader who has personally
experienced the hardships of his comrades-in-arms, will Humala do more than
encourage young people to join the service?  Will he have the skill to lead a real
reform process, or be inclined to increase spending with nothing in return?  And
can reform be undertaken without a general amnesty or Punto Final that would
trade justice for expediency?  What lessons can we learn from those who have studied
similar processes in other lands and times?