Latin America’s Tradition of Protest Is Under Threat

In December, Peruvian soldiers opened fire on anti-government protesters in Ayacucho, killing 10. They were among at least 49 demonstrators—largely Indigenous, rural, and unarmed—killed by Peru’s security services in the tumultuous months following former President Pedro Castillo’s impeachment and arrest last year.

The crackdowns overseen by President Dina Boluarte have drawn international condemnation. An investigation by Human Rights Watch identified cases of “extrajudicial or arbitrary killings” and other “egregious abuses.” A report by the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights condemned the “disproportionate, indiscriminate, and lethal use of force.” But Peru’s government downplayed the allegations, and it appears unlikely to hold anyone accountable. In June, the Peruvian Congress declined to investigate.

That silence is troubling, and not only for the victims. Demonstrations are a defining characteristic of the political culture across Latin America; social unrest has long been a method that the region’s citizens have used to demand redress for underlying social tensions. Impunity for the abuses in Peru would send a dangerous signal to security services at a time when protest, and crackdowns, are growing more frequent.

Prolonged economic stagnation, rising crime, corruption, and poor public services have soured the public mood in Latin America, eroded trust in political parties, and triggered what political scientists describe as a crisis of representation. In the last 20 democratic presidential elections in the region, the governing party won only twice, both times in Paraguay. More than 90 percent of Peruvians disapprove of Congress. Just 4 percent of Chileans have confidence in political parties.

These trends have led to more frequent protests in recent years. Argentina, for example, recorded almost 10,000 protests in 2022, a record. In too many cases, demonstrations have resulted in large numbers of deaths and injuries.

In 2019, Chile’s Carabineros, a national policy force, was widely criticized for their handling of the so-called estallido social (“social explosion”) uprising, including hundreds of eye injuries caused by rubber bullets fired at protesters. Following the resignation of longtime Bolivian President Evo Morales the same year, Bolivia’s interim government cracked down on protests, killing 35 people and injuring at least 830. In Ecuador, an increase in fuel prices in 2019 sent thousands of Indigenous and student protesters into the streets. They were met with tear gas fired at close range and beatings at the hands of the security forces. The clashes killed seven people and injured more than1,000.

Strict quarantines throughout Latin America generally quieted protests during the COVID-19 pandemic, though not everywhere. In 2021, 42 individuals lost their lives during anti-government protests in Colombia, according to the country’s ombudsman. Recently, the pre-pandemic protest rhythm has resumed. Earlier this month, Amnesty International accused the police in the Argentinian province of Jujuy of using “excessive use of force against those exercising their right to peaceful protest.”

Not surprisingly, the repression of dissent is worst in the region’s authoritarian countries. In 2018, Nicaragua crushed anti-government protests, leaving more than 200 dead and more than 1,300 injured. Two years ago, Cuba responded to historic demonstrations with mass arrests and decadeslong prison sentences. The International Criminal Court is investigating potential crimes against humanity by Venezuela’s government in its yearslong systematic repression of dissent.

At times, violence by protesters and damage to public property triggers confrontations with police and the armed forces. In all cases, heavy-handed responses to protests fuel anti-government sentiment, adding new grievances that inspire new demonstrations.

Concerns about human rights violations in Latin America go beyond the management of public protest. Brazilian police are notoriously trigger happy, especially in operations in urban shantytowns known as favelas. In Rio de Janeiro, 25 people died in a 2021 police raid on a favela, and another 19 were killed in a similar operation the following year. In Mexico, the military was notorious for its abuses in battling drug trafficking organizations until the current president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, introduced his “hugs, not bullets” security strategy.

But the mistreatment of peaceful protesters is arguably more concerning, given other worrisome signs of democratic decline throughout the region. In January, days after President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva’s inauguration in Brazil, supporters of his political rival stormed the Supreme Court, Congress, and Planalto presidential palace in Brasília. Salvadorans have lived for more than a year under a state of emergency amid a controversial crackdown on criminal gangs. In neighboring Guatemala, three of the most competitive candidates were banned from competing in this year’s presidential election, and the attorney general is attempting to stop the winner from taking office.

In these conditions, public protest is essential to protect civil liberties and prevent further damage to democratic institutions. National leaders and their security forces must learn to maintain order and security, and address individual acts of violence, without violating human rights or curtailing the freedom of assembly.

In recent years, protests have played an important role safeguarding democracy and expanding rights in the region. In 2015, anti-corruption protests in Guatemala led to the resignation and arrest of the president and vice president. Demonstrations by millions of Brazilians in response to the Lava Jato bribery scandal contributed to the president’s impeachment in 2016. In 2020, protests by the Ni Una Menos (“Not One Less”) women’s rights movement in Argentina helped persuade lawmakers to legalize abortion. In recent months in Mexico, protesters have gathered in more than 100 cities and in the capital city’s Zócalo, or town square, to protect the National Electoral Institute from reforms and budget cuts designed to curtail its independence.

Peru’s democracy is particularly in need of political activism, which is sometimes known as vertical accountability. The country has had five presidents in the past six years. Many poor and Indigenous Peruvians have still not accepted the impeachment and detention of Castillo, a former union leader who championed the rural poor in a country long dominated by elites in Lima, the capital. Lawmakers impeached Castillo on Dec. 7 after he sought to shutter the legislature and rule by decree to derail a congressional corruption investigation.

The apparent impunity for the soldiers who fired upon Castillo’s supporters, and for their superiors, is doubly troubling given the history of excessive force by Peru’s security services. In 1986, as Peru battled Shining Path guerrillas, the armed forces under President Alan García brutally put down a series of prison revolts, killing more than 200 inmates. In 1992, a death squad tied to Peru’s authoritarian leader, Alberto Fujimori, murdered a professor and nine students at La Cantuta University who were suspected of membership in the Shining Path.

Peru largely vanquished the Shining Path more than two decades ago, and Fujimori is now in prison. But the military’s response to the recent protests reflects the country’s continued struggles to strengthen the rule of law and adhere to established law enforcement protocols designed to protect the rights of demonstrators.

Peru’s leaders need better training, too. Boluarte, Castillo’s former vice president, has demonized protesters as terrorists, seemingly encouraging harsh measures to quash demonstrations. As a result, Peru’s security services show little restraint. In January, for example, police raided San Marcos University in Lima, using an armored vehicle to enter the campus, firing tear gas and beating and detaining students. Seventy-two percent of Peruvians say the right to protest is not respected in the country, according to a survey by the Instituto de Estudios Peruanos.

For now, there is little hope for accountability, let alone reforms to the police and military to alter the rules of engagement, or the appointment of an international commission to investigate the recent deaths of protesters. Elections are not scheduled until 2026.

Peru’s failure to take seriously the killings of protesters has soured ties with the United States. Brian Nichols, the senior U.S. diplomat for Latin America and a former U.S. ambassador to Peru, has said he is “deeply concerned” about the injuries and deaths in Peru. Should Peru’s internal investigations go nowhere, the issue could complicate U.S.-Peru relations for years. That is how it should be; in supporting democracy in the Americas, the United States must help protect free expression, including both the polite political speech of the type found in newspapers and also the anguished shouts of protesters in the town square.

Peru is a tinderbox, and impunity for abuses against demonstrators could spur another round of anti-government protests and provoke the police and military to respond violently yet again. That would further normalize the criminalization of protests in Latin America, throttling public expression at a time of deep discontent and mistrust of the institutions of representative democracy.

The leading candidate in Argentina’s October election has promised to “chainsaw” public spending, a strategy that would almost certainly flood downtown Buenos Aires with demonstrators. In Chile, the expected rejection in December of a referendum on constitutional reform—for the second time since the 2019 uprising—could ignite a renewed period of unrest. In Colombia, opponents of the president smell blood in the water amid a series of scandals, raising the possibility of protests.

In these and other parts of Latin America and the Caribbean, leaders will have to carefully balance their responsibility for maintaining public order with respect for the essential role of free expression and citizen participation in a democracy.