By Geraldina Colotti /Resumen Latinoamericano, September 28, 2025.
Miltant protests breaking out in Peru, demanding the ouster of Dina Boularte
At the 80th UN General Assembly, Peru’s representative, Dina Boluarte, concluded her speech with the microphones turned off. Technical failure or intentional sabotage? Meanwhile, outside the Crystal Palace, Peruvians living in New York made their presence felt. Like many fellow immigrants in other countries, Peruvians living in the United States have not missed the opportunity to protest against what they consider not the president, but a “usurper” who has been ruling since December 7, 2022, following an “institutional coup” against teacher Pedro Castillo. The former president remains in prison, and the protesters, who have denounced the harsh repression suffered from 2022 to the present, held up photos of the more than 80 victims and called for Castillo’s release.
Other injured people—journalists and young protesters—have joined in Lima in recent days, following violent clashes with the police, who have harshly repressed the “Generation Z” movement’s demonstration. Young people who grew up in the digital age and organize themselves through virtual platforms have taken to the streets, raising cultural symbols such as the One Piece flag. The One Piece flag, or Jolly Roger, is the emblem of the protagonist of the Japanese manga and anime series of the same name, created by Eiichiro Oda. In the series, it is the symbol of the pirate crew led by Monkey D. Luffy. It signifies freedom, adventure, and rebellion against the established power of the world government, which considers pirates to be criminals.
However, the trigger was very specific: Law No. 32123, passed by Congress, which requires young people over the age of 18 to join an AFP or ONP. The acronyms AFP and ONP refer to the two main pension and social security management systems. The AFPs are the Pension Fund Administrators, and represent the individual capitalization pension system.
These are private companies that manage workers’ funds to obtain profits, investing them in financial markets (stocks, bonds, etc.) in order to generate “returns for future pensioners.” The risk, however, falls entirely on the worker. The final pension depends directly on the total amount of contributions made.
This system is the pillar of the neoliberal model introduced in the 1990s: the years of Fujimori, who paid the price to the International Monetary Fund by carrying out his “self-coup” with which, in 1992, he dissolved Congress and suspended the Constitution in order to introduce drastic neoliberal economic reforms and stifle the opposition with terror. Based on the (still persistent) idea that social security should be managed by the market to ensure greater efficiency and returns, Fujimori then merged the AFP with the public system. Until then, the National Pension System (SNP) had been in place, based on the principle of solidarity and distribution, in which all workers were included and where the contributions of active workers financed pensions.
It was established in 1973, during the Revolutionary Government of the Armed Forces, led by General Juan Velasco Alvarado (1968-1975). A nationalist and reformist government that unified the myriad of fragmented pension and social security funds that existed in Peru until then. However, in 1992, Fujimori created a specific entity, the ONP, to manage this system: to give Peruvian workers the illusion of being able to choose between two models of protection, when in reality it was to dismantle the public system and channel enormous private capital (workers’ contributions) into the financial sector.
Boluarte is following the same path, as she must respond to the same forces that put her in power, overthrowing Castillo, who was frowned upon by the oligarchies that run the country. Now, one of the hottest debates concerns the possibility of workers withdrawing part of their AFP funds, as happened during the pandemic, to cope with the crisis, but private companies are fiercely opposed.
The protests by young people, which have been joined by other sectors of society hit hard by neoliberal policies, are not only economic in nature; they are calling for Boluarte’s removal and the closure of Congress. The popularity of the “usurper” is at an all-time low, her government is rocked by accusations of corruption against Boluarte herself for owning expensive watches, and there is infighting among “backstabbers” ahead of the elections set for April 12, 2026. On that date, citizens will have to elect not only the president of the Republic, but also the vice presidents and deputies to Congress and the Andean Parliament for the 2026-2031 term.
Castillo will certainly not be able to compete, as his request for release from preventive detention has been definitively denied. What’s more, he risks facing even more serious charges, which carry decades of imprisonment. These charges could be brought by the same Provisional Supreme Judge (a magistrate who temporarily fills a vacant seat on the Supreme Court) who denied him his release.
The use of such legal artifices, such as the excessive prolongation of a provisional role, occupied by figures who are clearly more malleable, is one aspect of the rampant lawfare in Peru: that is, the use of the judiciary for political purposes. The abuse of the institutional mechanism of “presidential vacancy,” which allows Congress to declare the early end of the presidential term even on the basis of a vague definition of “moral incapacity,” has characterized the political scene, plunging it into chronic instability.
After removing the outsider Castillo, Congress, composed mainly of right-wing and center-right forces, has resisted all attempts by social protests to bring forward the elections. With the unpopular but useful Boluarte and maintaining the current Congress, the system aims to stabilize the economic model before facing a potentially unfavorable new electoral cycle.
Meanwhile, in a fragmented political landscape where the right wing is seeking a strong candidate, while forces calling for structural change are working to unite the various groups under a single anti-neoliberal platform, social and indigenous movements are gaining strength and voice.
Although they are not a political party, their mobilization (like that of “Generation Z”) aims to shift the balance of power. Their support will be essential for any alternative candidate: one who embodies opposition to the extractivist model imposed by transnational corporations and Lima’s comprador elite; who promotes the need for resource redistribution; and who promises a new Constituent Assembly to abolish Alberto Fujimori’s Constitution.
The crisis is not only institutional, but also reflects the inability of the Peruvian ruling class, in constant conflict between its various factions, to establish a stable hegemonic power bloc. For the popular forces, however, it will be a matter of taking stock of Castillo’s experiment, which despite its popular and rural origins failed because it did not manage to build a true worker-peasant hegemony based on solid political leadership, nor to break the institutional and economic control of the Lima elite.
Power thus passed to the technocratic and conservative bourgeoisie represented by Congress and Boluarte, much more presentable to those who pull the strings at the international level: repressive in their actions, but with a discourse full of democratic proclamations based on moderation and human rights—the same mask worn by Venezuelan coup leader Maria Corina Machado.
This was seen in New York, where Boluarte attended the event marking the 30th anniversary of the Fourth World Conference on Women, organized by the UN. During her speech, the leader presented herself as a victim of what she defined as “false information” and an alleged “ideology of hatred” that, according to her, seeks to discredit her.
Her speech at the UN General Assembly was widely criticized, both in Peru and internationally, as an exercise in cynicism and political hypocrisy, in contrast to the political and judicial reality in Peru. It seemed above all to be another attempt, after her participation in the inauguration ceremony of the new pope at the Vatican, to rebuild a politically presentable image at the international level. On the global stage, her speech focused largely on Peru, with the aim of projecting a false image of economic and institutional stability.
Regarding the central theme of the Assembly, namely the genocide in Palestine, she maintained an extremely vague and diplomatic tone, generically condemning violence and war. This approach stood in stark contrast to the strong explicit condemnation coming from Latin American socialist and progressive leaders such as the presidents of Colombia, Venezuela, and Cuba. Her speech reflected Boluarte’s dependence on and subordinate alignment with the Western political and economic interests that support the Zionist regime. She was very careful not to damage the economic ties that are crucial to Peruvian capital.
After Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum—known for her pro-women’s rights stance—received Pedro Castillo’s lawyer, Guido Croxatto, on August 29, declaring that the former president had been unjustly imprisoned and that Boluarte was a usurper, the Peruvian Congress declared Sheinbaum persona non grata.
Peru has some of the highest rates of gender-based violence in the region. Peruvian women face significant segregation and precariousness in the labor market. In rural and Andean areas, they are the backbone of agriculture, but often do not own land and have limited access to credit and training, perpetuating poverty.
However, Boluarte, presenting herself as “Peru’s first female president,” wanted to appear as a model of female emancipation, praising women and their role in Peruvian and global society. In front of the Crystal Palace, meanwhile, immigrant women chanted “Out with the usurper,” pointing to her expensive Rolex watches (the subject of a corruption investigation) and holding up photos of the peasant and indigenous women she had ordered to be killed during the protests.