In 1985, while serving as a second lieutenant in the Peruvian Army, Telmo Hurtado ordered soldiers under his command to gather and kill 62 unarmed villagers, including 23 children, from the remote Ayacuchan community of Accomarca. After torturing the men and sexually abusing the women, the military locked the villagers into various houses, shot at them and set fire to the houses. They then threw grenades at the houses to destroy them entirely.

When news of the massacre spread and an investigation was undertaken, Hurtado personally led back a group of soldiers and proceeded to kill seven additional people who either witnessed or survived the initial crime. Nevertheless, weeks after the massacre, he openly admitted responsibility for it in front of the investigating commission. He justified the execution of children with the assetrtion that they were terrorists.

What followed is a classic case of Peruvian-style impunity. Hurtado was absolved of the charge of qualified homicide in 1993 by a Peruvian military council, and was sentenced to a mere six years in prison for abuse of authority; a sentence he never served. Rather, he rose in the ranks of the military, and was decorated during the government of Alberto Fujimori.

In 1995, he benefited from Fujimori’s controversial law that granted amnesty covering all human rights violations committed by state forces, and remained in active service of the military. In 2002, after the amnesty law was annulled following a ruling of the Inter-American Court of Human Rights and the possibility of a new trial for the Accomarca case was renewed, Hurtado fled to the United States.

The Accomarca case was finally brought to court in 2010, 25 years after the events. Hurtado is one of the 29 accused in the case, consisting of military of all ranks. He was apprehended in Miami in 2007 and prosecuted on criminal charges related to visa fraud and making false statements. His arrest was part of a program to detain and deport torture suspects from abroad that are found in the United States.

In 2008, Peru requested his extradition on criminal charges of murder, abduction and forced disappearances. Following a long judicial process, Hurtado was finally extradited back to Peru a few months ago to face justice. He is currently facing a maximum sentence of 25 years of prison.

International cooperation was also instrumental in the arrest and sentencing of ex-President Alberto Fujimori for human rights violations. The latter fled to Japan in 2000 when corruption scandals led the Peruvian Congress to relieve him of his functions.

Many Peruvians see Fujimori's conviction as a symbol of the fight against impunity

In 2005, Fujimori was finally arrested and detained in Chile on order of a Minister of the Supreme Court following a request by the Peruvian embassy. Two years later, the ex–President was extradited to Peru to face various accusations. That same year, the trial for his role in killings and kidnappings by the Grupo Colina death squad during his administration began.

In 2009, Fujimori was convicted of human rights violations and sentenced to 25 years in prison for his role in the Barrios Altos and La Cantuta massacres, in addition to the kidnapping of two individuals. The verdict marked the first time that an elected head of state has been extradited back to his home country, tried, and convicted of human rights violations.

The cases of Telmo Hurtado and Alberto Fujimori have much in common. Both tried to evade Peruvian justice by fleeing to other countries, and both ended up being extradited back to Peru to face the charges against them. Yet for every extradition, there are countless violators of human rights living comfortably in foreign countries. International cooperation and legally-binding international human rights instruments can play a crucial role in remedying the situation.

One such instrument is the UN’s 2006 International Convention for the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance. Thus far, 88 states have signed the convention and 29 have ratified it. In South America; Peru, Guyana and Suriname are the only countries that have yet to sign.

In a meeting between state representatives, civil society actors and victim’s representatives last September 5th, which included EPAF members, Second Vice-President Omar Chehade pledged that his government would finally sign the Convention and that is would support initiatives dealing with the issue of enforced disappearance.

This is of crucial importance, as it is the first time that Peru officially recognizes the importance of the issue of enforced disappearance. The symbolism of the Convention would do much to re-ignite hope among the relatives of Peru’s 15,000 disappeared, many of whom have been disheartened by five years of an administration that has been completely unresponsive to the issue.

Let’s all hope that the new government keeps its word.

(On a side note, neither the United States nor Canada have signed the Convention.)

“With our memory, we resist impunity” – Statement by the relatives of the victims of La Cantuta in the protest against a possible presidential pardon for Alberto Fujimori

On Friday, July 15^th, I attended a protest march in Lima Centro against a possible presidential pardon to ex-president Alberto Fujimori. A few weeks before, I had attended another event in opposition to a pardon; many of them have been taking place over the last few weeks as the presidential term of Alan García is coming to an end (Ollanta Humala will take over as of July 28, 2011, which is also Peru’s national independence day). What made last Friday’s protest special was that it was organized by the relatives of the Cantuta victims (see my previous post) in commemoration of the 19^th anniversary of the massacre.

Civilians protesting against a pardon for Fujimori at Plaza San Martin on July 1st, 2011

Around the time of the Peruvian presidential elections and the candidacy of Fujimori’s daughter Keiko, I wrote about what Alberto Fujimori represents for human rights, or more to the point, for impunity in Peru. His sentencing to 25 years in prison on charges of human rights violations and corruption represented a break with the long tradition of impunity in the country, and was internationally regarded as an important step in global efforts to end impunity in cases of crimes against humanity.

Banner in protest of a pardon for Fujimori

The forced disappearance and execution of nine students and a professor from La Cantuta is also very symbolically charged in Peru as it was one of the three cases that Alberto Fujimori was condemned for in 2009. He was deemed to be the intellectual author of La Cantuta, as well as of the Barrios Altos executions and the kidnappings of journalist Gustavo Gorriti and businessman Samuel Dyer. The Cantuta relatives, including EPAF’s Gisela Ortiz, sister of one of the students killed, are emblematic of the fight against impunity in Peru.

La Cantuta relative holding a picture of her son

Unsurprisingly, Fujimoristas have never accepted the sentence against Fujimori, and have been fighting against it in all ways possible. A few days before the presidential elections this past June 5^th, Fujimori’s defense filed a plea with the Constitutional Tribunal to find that the conviction is not valid because the judges were not impartial. According to Jo-Marie Burt, an acceptation of this argument by the Constitutional Court would amount to a revocation of the ratification of the original sentence, and a new trial would be held that could lead to Fujimori’s exoneration, or to a different sentence that could facilitate a presidential pardon. The plea will be revised, during a public audience, on the 4^th of August.

Sign in protest of a possible pardon for Fujimori

Following the defeat of Keiko Fujimori in the presidential elections, a new story quickly began to dominate headlines, that of a possible presidential pardon to Fujimori on “humanitarian principles”. It began with a congressman commenting to the press that President Alan García should pardon the ex-president because he is “old and apparently sick.” Then there was intensive press coverage of the flailing health of the former president— that he suffered bleeding in his mouth; that his mouth cancer could be recurring; that he had lost 15 kilos; etc.

Some have argued that this represents a change in strategy by fujimoristas attempting to free the ex-president; a media campaign pushing for a presidential pardon. Despite the fact that an independent doctor confirmed Fujimori’s condition was not life-threatening and that his weight loss was due to depression, and that various analysts have stated that a pardon would be illegal under both Peruvian and international law, the rumours of a presidential pardon have not completely subsided.

Protest march against a pardon for Fujimori

Followers of Peruvian politics fear that Alan Garcia might pardon Fujimori, presumably in exchange for a future promise of protection from prosecution for human rights violations committed during his first term as president during the 1980s. Let it not be forgotten that his current administration has also been responsible such disasters as the 2009 massacre in Bagua.

Protest march against a pardon for Fujimori

Given the severity of the crimes committed by Fujimori and the lack of a legal or medical foundation for his pardon, I have to admit that I have trouble understanding why the possibility of a pardon on humanitarian grounds is even being discussed. But if there is anything to be learned from Peruvian history, it is that when politics are concerned, nothing is too far-fetched.

The question is not, as some out here have tried to turn it into, whether or not Fujimori deserves to die in prison.  Personally, I doubt anyone does. The point, however, is that reputable doctors have stated that his condition is not life threatening. The point is that his conviction is the most potent symbol of the fight against impunity in Peru, and that his pardon would represent a terrible blow to human rights and to the victims and victim’s relatives of the atrocities committed by his regime under his orders.

Protest march against a pardon for Fujimori

UPDATE: I finished writing this post a few days ago but for a variety of reasons I have not been able to publish it until today. As Ollanta Humala takes over as President today, it seems that Alan García decided that a pardon to Fujimori was not in his best interest. The issue is not completely over, though, as back in June, President-elect Ollanta Humala stated to the newpaper El Comercio that he would consider pardoning Fujimori on humanitarian grounds if his health worsened. Moreover, the examination of the “Habeas Corpus” presented to the Constitutional Court by Fujimori’s defense will take place next week…

I am of the opinion that a disaster of tremendous proportions was avoided last Sunday when Ollanta Humala, a nationalist former military officer, defeated Keiko Fujimori in the second round of Peru’s presidential election. To me, a victory by Fujimori would have represented the vindication of Alberto Fujimori’s decade-long government and of the inexcusable human rights violations that took place during the latter; a clear case of impunity trumping memory and a cruel disregard for the dignity of the victims and families of victims of abuses committed.

My position, and that of many human rights activists here in Lima, however, is not synonymous with an uncritical support and acceptance of Ollanta Humala. As I have mentioned in a previous post, the future president has a questionable human rights record, having battled claims that he tortured civilians as a counterinsurgency officer in the early 1990s. His closing statement in the presidential debate, during which he asserted that regarding him there were only doubts, but regarding the Fujimoristas there were proven facts, was not quite as reassuring as it was intended to be.

Everyone here is anxiously waiting to see what direction the new government will take on human rights. Specifically, what will be its policy on the judicialization of human rights abuses committed during the internal war; on reparations for the victims and families of victims of the conflict; on the exhumation and forensic investigation of the more than 4,000 mass graves scattered throughout the country; on the fostering of a collective memory of the conflict? Each is an important dimension of the issue Peru’s disappeared.

Most would agree that the performance of the outgoing administration of Alan García on these issues has been disappointing to say the least. The 2008 annual report of the Coordinadora Nacional de Derechos Humanos (CNDDHH) denounced the administration’s distancing from and failure to apply many of the recommendations of the Truth and Reconciliation Commision, in addition to its passive attitude on the promotion of policies such as the National Plan of Human Rights and the Integral Reparation Plan.

Many consider that the García regime has been guided by a narrow understanding of development in which it is equated to economic growth largely based on the performance of extractive industries. They argue that this has resulted in a scenario in which human rights have been placed second, as evidenced in cases of conflict between local populations and extractive projects (the 2009 events in Bagua being an emblematic case, and protests in Puno a more recent one).

As we look to the future, there is cause for vigilance. Illustrative of the uncertain future of human rights, memory and justice in Peru are comments uttered on May 30 by Omar Chehade, who will be Second Vice-President under Ollanta Humala. While discussing the Madre Mía case—the very case for which Ollanta Humala has been suspected of having committed human rights violations—in an interview on the program “Prensa Libre,” he maintained that the victims were still terrorists and that they could well be alive and continuing their terrorist activities. Such accusations showed a clear lack of respect and sensitivity for the families of the victims of enforced disappearance, and an insult to the memory of the disappeared.

Although Chehade later publicly retracted his assertions in a letter to the CNDDHH and made a public apology to the memory of the victims of the case Madre Mía and their families, the incident is still a clear indication of the battle between impunity and memory that is currently being waged in Peru.

Now, more than ever, is a time for Peruvian civil society to be on its toes.

Today, armed with my faithful camera, I set out to capture the essence of the contentious battle between Keiko Fujimori and Ollanta Humala, to be decided tomorrow in the second round of Peru’s presidential election. This is what I found:

Propaganda and counter-propaganda

Flyer against Keiko Fujimori

Anti-Keiko sentiment in graffiti

Anti-Humala graffiti

Old lady and Keiko propaganda

Graffiti modified by a Keiko supporter

Boy and propaganda

Ollanta graffiti

Vandalized Fujimori propaganda

Propaganda and counter-propaganda

Derogatory sticker on a lamp post

Billboard featuring a magazine cover

Ollanta posters

(A country that forgets its history is doomed to repeat it)

These words, a not-so-subtle warning expressed by the Peruvian Truth and Reconciliation Commission, have been echoing in my head since the day I set foot in Peru. With the second turn of the presidential elections soon coming up on June 5th, newspapers have unsurprisingly been dominated by the fierce battle being fought by the two candidates.  At it really does feel like history, quite literally, may be about to repeat itself.

Memory represents an important line of work at EPAF. The basic rationale is that allowing victims of violence and families of the disappeared to share memories of the past and reassert the truth over what happened during the years of the internal conflict can contribute to justice, help restore their dignity, and put an end to their victimization. But this leads me to wonder whether there can be such a thing as a collective memory in a country as divided as Peru. Is memory of the conflict not doomed to remain principally, if not exclusively, a weight on the shoulders of its most direct victims? Memory seems to have very little power over people determined to forget.

While there are notable exceptions, what I am currently witnessing in Lima is a striking lack of memory. How else to explain the first-turn victory of the two current presidential candidates, both more than a little problematic with regards to their human rights records? How to interpret the lack of any concrete proposal, by either of the candidates, to deal with the many sequels of the conflict?

Newspaper stand in Miraflores

If polls are to be believed, the candidate currently leading the race is Keiko Fujimori, the daughter of former President Alberto Fujimori, who is currently serving a 25-year prison sentence for corruption and human rights violations. In addition to the crimes he has been prosecuted for, his regime has been blamed for the forced sterilization of nearly 300,000 indigenous women.

The support for Keiko Fujimori builds on the bases that remember Alberto Fujimori as the president who defeated the Shining Path after years of internal conflict and restored the country’s economic growth through neoliberal reforms. Many would also argue that she cannot be blamed for the crimes of her father; her opponents, however, are quick to point out her position as First Lady during part of her father’s presidency. Moreover, there is concern that her candidacy is being run by many of the same people that used to be part of her father’s government.

In response to the possibility of Keiko Fujimori becoming President, the Coordinadora Nacional de Derechos Humanos, an umbrella human rights organization, has initiated a campaign entitled “Fujimori Nunca Más” to ensure that electors do not forget the crimes committed by the ex-dictator on the day of the elections.

The story is complicated, however, by the fact that the human rights record of the second candidate, Ollanta Humala, is not much shinier: from a military background, he is suspected of having committed human rights violations during the conflict. He was also responsible for a 2000 aborted coup d’état, and has been accused of being linked to another coup attempt, led by his brother in 2004. His critics further decry his association with the Chávez regime, despite his efforts during the campaign to represent himself as closer to Brazil’s more moderate Lula da Silva.

Regardless of who is elected on June 5th, it will be difficult to consider it a victory from a human rights and historical standpoint. But the real test will come after the election: what will the winning candidate’s government do to address Peruvians’ claims for the truth, justice, and reparation? What will be its policy on the 15,000 disappeared of the internal conflict that have not yet been found?