Opinion | Dictators Die, but Their Legacies Live on Much Longer
I was born in Peru in 1992, the same year President Alberto Fujimori announced he was dissolving Congress and suspended the Constitution, performing what was later called a “self-coup.” He sent tanks through the streets and arrested journalists and his political opponents, while assuming full legislative and judicial powers.He turned a democratically elected government into a dictatorship that came to define modern Peru.
As long as I can remember, I’ve only known my country under the shadow of Mr.Fujimori and his political movement: Fujimorismo.My own identity became defined, in large part, by opposition to Mr.
Fujimori.The first political event I attended during my freshman year of college was a celebration of the conviction for violating human rights that sent him to prison.
The first presidential campaign I volunteered in was to prevent his daughter, Keiko Fujimori, from becoming president.And I joined protests against the pardon Mr.
Fujimori received from President Pedro Pablo Kuczynski on Christmas Eve in 2017.That night, Christmas arrived in Lima while the police choked us with tear gas.When I found out that Mr.
Fujimori died on Sept.11, I was left questioning both his legacy and the future of my country.
Today, the most important division in Peruvian politics is still between Fujimorismo and antifujimorismo.Followers of Fujimorismo see the former leader as the savior of Peru for ending the hyperinflation and terrorism of the 1980s.
Followers of antifujimorismo — including me — believe the crimes committed during his regime are unforgivable.But the true inheritance of the controversial leader’s legacy is the belief that the ends justify the means — that anything goes in politics.
And today that approach to politics, the idea that democratic procedures can be disregarded for allegedly higher goals, has been embraced by most Peruvian politicians, even many who have made a career positioning themselves against Mr.Fujimori’s ideals.Before ...