Peru’s constantly changing political landscape never ceases to amaze. Peruvians have now elected five presidents from completely distinct political parties in five consecutive elections. This is unprecedented in the history of human democracy and also highlights the frailty of political representation in the country.

Although Pedro Castillo from the Perú Libre (Free Peru) party inched ahead of Keiko Fujimori’s Fuerza Popular (Popular Force) by a slim 0.2% margin, an official winner has yet to be announced in Peru’s elections. Fujimori claims the elections are fraudulent, a charge that Peru’s National Jury of Elections has publicly condemned as “irresponsible political declarations that increase social polarisation and weaken the credibility of electoral authorities”. International observers have recognised the free and fair conduct of elections, which is also apparent in the trove of publicly available election data and the live-streamed judgements of every single contested vote in a bid to ensure transparency – perhaps the first such instance in our era of modern democracy.

Alberto Vergara, a Peruvian political scientist from the University of the Pacific, said in a recent interview that “we should be conscious of the mechanisms of post-truth that are prepping for an electoral coup”. Although it remains unlikely, in case Fujimori manages to annul an estimated 200,000 votes in Castillo’s base in the highlands, it would not only break Peru’s longest democratic run, but also stretch the chasm between the coast and the interior.

If Castillo is inaugurated as president come July 28, his only chance of survival would be to moderate, becoming something akin to Ollanta Humala, who was elected president in 2011 on a leftist platform but governed as a centrist. The forewarnings predicting that Castillo will convert Peru into another Venezuela are unlikely to come true: Castillo has neither the popularity nor the political capital to enact radical measures through Congress or presidential decree. In fact, radicalisation would be political suicide, as Peru’s right and centre-right parties hold enough seats in Congress to impeach Castillo if push comes to shove.

Also read: Brazil's 'Covaxingate' Investigation Closes in on Bolsonaro and Bharat Biotech

The only way for Castillo to survive a full presidential term would be to distance himself from radicals like Vladimir Cerrón and cozy up to moderates like economist Pedro Francke. Even so, it would be a gargantuan task for Castillo to ensure any socio-economic stability in the coming years given the devastating impact COVID-19 has had on the country.

A tale of two Perus

The uncertainty surrounding Peru’s political landscape today brings to mind the words of philosopher Martha Nussbaum, “fear all too often blocks rational deliberation, poisons hope, and impedes constructive cooperation for a better future.”

In Peru, both candidates have been demonised by the other side and portrayed as the worst possible option for the country’s future. Ultimately, the ghastly prognoses from both sides are exaggerated. At these times of crises, each side desperately clings to its own beliefs and aspirations, leaving little room for compromise. No matter which candidate ends up leading Peru in the coming years, the real winner is fear, which will likely continue damaging the country’s democracy for years to come.

The climate of fear in Peru today has brought to the foreground two centuries of deep socio-political divisions. Peru was born divided between the coast and the interior in 1821; the tragedy is that it remains so even 200 years later, in terms of population, political influence and economic progress.

This divide is visible in two forms: political inequality, whereby the coast decided Peru’s political destiny in the 19th and 20th centuries, and economic inequality between the urban and rural areas.

Two data points from Peru’s political past provide striking examples of this divide.

• For the large majority of the 19th and 20th centuries, besides the numerous military coups, voting was limited to literate, tax-paying men part of the Civic Registry (often constituting less than 1% of the country’s population, nearly all of whom were on Peru’s coast, while excluding women and the majority of indigenous peoples). Only in 1980 did Peru implement the universal vote.
• Consequently, Peru elected only one president in all of the 19th and 20th centuries (through direct elections) who was not born in Lima nor formed part of the land-owning elite: José Luis Bustamante y Rivero in 1945. In contrast, after the universal vote, Peru has elected three presidents born in the interior or of indigenous ethnicity: Alejandro Toledo, Ollanta Humala and now, Castillo.

Castillo’s razor-thin advantage should be seen in this historical context of political inequality, and is also an indicator of what’s to come: appealing only to Lima and the coast is no longer sufficient to win elections. Future presidential candidates and parties are more likely to seek the favour of the country’s interior, even if only partially or in certain sub-regions.

Two more data points of Peru’s present-day economy are noteworthy:

• Peru’s nine coastal states account for more than two-thirds of the Gross Domestic Product (GDP), while 16 states in the interior contribute the remaining one-third. Nearly all of Peru’s coastal states voted for Fujimori, while the interior overwhelmingly voted for Castillo.
• There is also a clear rural-urban divide: rural workers earned a monthly average income of S/.760 (US$228) in 2019, less than half their urban counterparts’ S/.1595 (US$478). This is clearly reflected in voting patterns: in states where more than one-third of the population lives in rural areas, 75% of the votes went to Castillo, while the more urbanised states tilted heavily towards Fujimori.

These historical cleavages must be addressed if Peru is to break free from the socio-political unrest that has been bubbling for two centuries.

Also read: 'We Are Very Free': How China Spreads Its Propaganda Version of Life for Uighurs

The frustration among many Limeños today is that the rules of the game, which were rigged in their favour, are now changing. The interior vote is becoming more relevant now. As Peruvian social scientist Alicia del Águila notes, the near-total absence of the indigenous vote until 1980 had the perverse effect of creating political parties that emerged mostly from Lima, without any national appeal. If indigenous Peruvians were allowed to vote earlier on, she argues, it could have created the space for an Andean political party, or even a campesino (peasant) party, which could have balanced the scales. As a result, Peru does not have a single national party today that appeals to the coast and the interior, and this is the case for both Castillo and Fujimori.

Peru’s current predicament has an important lesson for other democracies young and old: address political inequalities, by giving sufficient space for political representation across the country and also to differing socio-economic models. Until this happens, it may be worth taking a leaf out of the mathematician John Allen Paulos’s book: “Uncertainty is the only certainty there is, and knowing how to live with insecurity is the only security.”

Hari Seshasayee is a Global Fellow at the Woodrow Wilson Center, and a trade advisor with ProColombia, a Colombian government agency. The views expressed are the author’s and do not reflect those of the Colombian government.

The Wire is now on WhatsApp. Follow our channel for sharp analysis and opinions on the latest developments.