I landed in a Peru gripped by election fever. But unlike when that cliché is used in the West, its use here did not bring to my mind thoughts of a literal sickness; in the sense that through our taking seriously the narrow political choices presented to us, such as 'how much to cut the deficit?' and 'how fast?', we seem to be in the throes of an actual fever; one whose most harmful symptom is to make us forget to ask whether such 'choices' are indeed those worthy of democratic subjects. Not so here in Peru. For the liberal centrists who, in the manner of our Western politicians, competed to make the blandest, least divisive of statements in line with some 'national consensus' were all annihilated in the first round. And what we have left are two remaining candidates who through their posters, their political rallies and concerts, and even the drive-by dancing by beautiful Latino girls, pronounce proscriptions that violently differ in their vision for Peru's future. Thus the prospect of radical change is in the air here, such that even we tourists, moving in the narrow orbit that we do, can't help getting a whiff of it. And morover, not merely a whiff of the change itself, but so too of its necessity. To illustrate:
I'm standing nearby the fortress set above the old Inca capital of Cusco. A middle-aged American gentleman is stood nearby, and who like me is attempting to do justice to the fine Inca stonework within the confines of his pixelated little screen. His wife however is unconcerned with such technicalities and is stood with extraordinarily wide-eyed rapture at these Inca marvels. Could the holiday get any more perfect? I can see her wonder. But yet it seems that it can- for she's just seen a native lady approaching, dressed in full, elaborate indigenous dress, and leading an Alpaca dressed-up in a cutesy bow. The American lady soars to new romantic flights. An Inca descendent.... Here walking an Alpaca to market in this most ancient of Inca towns.... Just as her ancestors might have done all those centuries ago.... She tugs at her husband, who without needing to be told, quickly turns so as to capture this magical holiday moment. The approaching lady feels the gaze, hears the click, and looking up now at the couple, she makes to speak. Would she offer us some of her Alpaca wares? So the American lady wondered. Wares made with craftsmanship transmitted down through the generations? Or would she merely greet them as travellers to her ancestral lands?
"Dollars," was how she in fact greeted them, before repeating this very un-Inca word as she opened out her hand. The American lady's lower lip fell, whilst her husband looked indignant: What did it cost her? Was he not free to snap what he liked? Though of course, the truth is that were people like himself not willing to so pay, then there'd never have been this native spectacle so as to snap; for this is the only reason why she- and many like her- come to visit this power base of their ancestors. She now insists on her payment, and the American gentleman magnanimously yields, thinking it not worth the hassle to argue over a dollar. But then, so too did this exchange buy him more than mere avoidance of a tiresome argument- for her further needy pleas would surely have led him to acknowledge the degradation to which economic necessity has led such heirs of the Incas to sink- into playing the grinning ´native´ for the tourist's enjoyment, all in the name of being tossed a few reluctant coins. Thus can money buy ignorance as well as knowledge. Now, the tourists can fare somewhat better in their search for an ´authentic´ indigenous when they move out into the countryside. But even here, that ´authentic´ culture is little more than a synonym for poverty; of the lack of power to progress beyond subsistence farming so as to make a new life for themselves on their own terms. Or, as one local lad of indigenous stock whom I met on a hike out into that beautiful Cusco countryside, bluntly put it: "People here are poor. They've no healthcare, and little education." Hence the red slogans that have been painted on houses, roadsides, and even on far-flung boulders in the countryside, all over the Andean region. And it is such support that made their man the victor in the first round of the election, securing 31% for left-wing candidate, Ollanta Humala. A man who, in promising to radically redistribute the profits of Peru´s economic boom, offers the promise of overturning centuries of immiseration suffered by these indigenous folk, not to mention those living in the vast slums near wealthy Lima.
Now in the Andes it's hard to imagine anyone competing with Ollanta in the final head-to-head, but then Peru is a country divided by more than its dramatic geography. For passing down from the Andes that divide Peru´s coastal desert from its Amazonian interior, on the Pacific coast you enter a very different economic and political realm. And no-where is this more apparent than on a journey along the Pan-American highway- the impressive road network that now stretches the length of the Americas. Now one might think at first sight that such a construction had been built with a mind to overcoming that great stumbling block to all revolutionaries who dreamt of unifying Latin America, right down to Ollanta himself who shares that dream today. For as the journalist Eduardo Galeano put it, history has been such that the lines of economic interdependency do not so much connect each Latin American nation to its neighbours, but that like spokes on a wheel the lines radiate out to Europe, as well as to their powerful Northern neighbour, the USA. However, though formally this highway opens up the space for realising that revolutionary dream, the free-marketeers who actually built it had very different ideas in mind. Chief among them being the former Peruvian President who had the road paved, one Albert Fujimori, who was not only an autocratic imposer of free trade on Peru but also crushed Peru's left-wing Guerrillas in the 1980s. But above and beyond having achieved his aim of turning the Peruvian economy over to the free market, he surely would have further reason to be cheered today in looking at the vast slums that cling precariously to the faces of the Andean foothills along his highway; the slums clinging, as slums do, wherever the ground is too unsafe for any more prosperous developments. For dominating the political colours sprayed across the faces of the slum-dwellings is the colour orange, signalling the dominance of his daughter, presidential candidate Keiko. But though Fujimori must surely be proud of his daughter's political success, it seems that she´s not so proud of him- since on the millions of her glossy posters and painted walls across Peru there is absolutely no trace of her family name, Fujimori. An effacing that has meant that, in the spirit of symmetry, her party's congressional candidates too are only allowed to use their given names- so it's 'Keiko y Juan' or 'Keiko y Diego'. And to imagine the absurdity of this we have only to consider the equivalent slogans in a British election: 'Vote Dave and George' or 'Nick and Vince are safe on the economy, or 'Two Eds are better than one´.
Why then this absurd, obsessive effacing of her father's name? Because, like so many strong armed autocrats who win Western plaudits for liberalising their economies, Alberto Fujimori was subsequently charged with crimes against humanity- being complicit in the kidnapping and torture of Peruvians by right-wing death-squads in the name of opposing the gurillas- in addition to using State coffers to bribe his cronies, as well as personally ripping of for his own benefit millions from Japanese-based charities. It all amounts to quite an impressive charge sheet- meaning that Keiko's daddy is currently serving a long prison term. Hence Keiko not being so keen to associate with Daddy's name. Though that hasn't stopped her using his ill-gotten gains, together with a rolodex full of grateful cronies, from attempting to buy the election. And indeed it seems to have almost worked- we have the daughter of an autocratic abuser of human rights who use their power for their personal enrichment in the final presidential run-off. (We might think of her father as a kind of Peruvian Berlusconi, were Berlusconi to be charged with the human rights abuses he deserves to be charged with for what he's allowed to happen to the Roma in Italy). And though I might be thought ungenerous to think her of the same kind as her father, whenever smiley-faced Keiko is forced to acknowledge her father, she proceeds to zealously defend his record.
The stage is thus set for a titanic battle between the autocratic, free-trading right and the socialist left. But who will win? Well it is clear that not so much of Ollanta's support will shift. Those in the Andes, unlike many of their coastal countrymen do not absolve Fujimori of his crimes because of the prosperity he brought to Peru. For firstly, it was those in the mountains that suffered at the hands of the right-wing death squads- often worse terror than that caused by the left-wing guerrillas such squads were supposed to liberate them from. And secondly, as we've seen, in spite of the fabulous wealth the boom years produced along the coast, that chimera of the economist's 'trickle-down effect'- whereby some of the wealth of those allowed to become fabulously rich 'trickles-down' to the poor- has not managed to make its way upstream from the coast into the mountains. And supporters of Ollanta are certainly in no mood for accepting excuses that the trickle is merely delayed owing to the gravity-defying path it must make upstream into the mountains. Thus the negative graffiti on Keiko posters in the Andes- the most common being 'Rata', which incidentally gave me the chance to practice my Spanish grammar- the word ´rat´ being feminised by adding an 'a'.
With such entrenched extremes, the election will thus be decided by the centrist, liberal block. However, historical precedent isn't particularly promising here for the left- for faced with the threat of the radical left, too often the centrist liberal establishment have sided with the autocratic right; who though illiberal in other ways, at least uphold the liberal's economic status quo. And this worry is born out in talking to otherwise quite thoughtful, middle-class young Peruvians, who seem to be swallowing the rhetoric of Fujimori's cronies in the media about Ollanta being another Hugo Chavez- in their eyes a dictator. Even though I point out that whilst Keiko wholeheartedly identifies with the autocratic tendencies of her father, Ollanta actually goes to great pains to identify with the centre-left Brazilian president Lula rather than Chavez. I've also heard the argument that Ollanta isn't sufficiently educated. But, as I pointed out, this qualification in such a country would disqualify almost everyone poor from becoming president. And that though an educated progressive might indeed be better than one uneducated, since there's no such credible, educated progressive on offer, they really ought to vote for the progressive against an autocratic, corrupt, regressive member of the Fujimori clan, irrespective of the fancy American schools she's been sent to
Well, I'm not sure exactly how convinced those young men were by my arguing for the outrage of voting for Keiko, but hopefully the vast support for Ollanta in the Andes, together with that of those in the coastal slums, will convince liberals that continuing the inegalitarian status quo will no longer be accepted. And that is a view that has been given further hope through the economically liberal poet, Vargas Llosa, backing Ollanta, despite having previously described the choice between Keiko and Ollanta as like choosing between 'terminal cancer and aids'. Though as to whether this decision influences liberal opinion nationwide, we´ll have to wait until June.
Anyway, there it is- my traveller's-eye view of the Peruvian election. And though no doubt I'll get told off for talking politics for too long, isn't the real lesson of the traveller's futile search for an 'authentic' indigenous culture that such a culture is in fact nothing other than a political product? A product fashioned by centuries of political oppression, whose knowledge ought therefore to spoil the traveller´s enjoyment of it. And therefore, that as awesome as Machu Picchu and the like are, the real interest in Peru is not the search for some static past that merely reflects historical injustice, but rather the dynamic political history being made in the present. That a people enslaved by the Conquistadors after the fall of the Inca empire, and subsequently exploited by foreign and national capitalist alike right down to today, might now win the political and economic power for determining their own course again. Isn´t that the traveller´s experience that brings a people- and their past- to life?
