Perú’s Régimen Laboral Juvenil is a new set of regulations that apply specifically to workers ages 18-24. President Ollanta Humala and the law’s proponents claim it incentivizes companies to hire young people by significantly reducing labor costs—essentially, by reducing mandatory vacation time, social security, life insurance, and other benefits and protections. It is also expressly intended to reduce the number of young workers in the informal sector, by facilitating the entry of young workers into formal employment. But according to the thousands of young people who took to the streets on January 15th, in Lima and several other cities in Perú, in the fourth protest against the law, its attempt to “benefit” them means taking their rights away, turning them into a cheap, easily exploitable labor force. First thing Monday morning, Congress will debate the law once more, as the fifth march against it makes its way from the Plaza San Martín to the steps of the Congreso de la República.
The law has come to be called la Ley Pulpín – the “Pulpín Law” – a slang word derived from a juicebox company, which has come to stand for something to the effect of “dumb kid”. News reports assert it was passed quietly, and in a rush, which make its critics assume it was a done deal before it was even put to a vote. The youth protesting the law say they see right through it, and refused to be taken advantage of—and the strength of the multi-faceted movement, which demanded the law be repealed, seems to have produced this extra Monday-morning legislative session.
The law has come to be called la Ley Pulpín – the “Pulpín Law” – a slang word derived from a juicebox company, which has come to stand for something to the effect of “dumb kid”. News reports assert it was passed quietly, and in a rush, which make its critics assume it was a done deal before it was even put to a vote. The youth protesting the law say they see right through it, and refused to be taken advantage of—and the strength of the multi-faceted movement, which demanded the law be repealed, seems to have produced this extra Monday-morning legislative session.
In the office last week, Eduardo, the filmmaker in charge of INFANT’s audiovisual work, and Yesenia, one of INFANT’s young educators and community facilitators, and former MNNATSOP national delegate, described their experience of the January 15th march—which ended in explosions of teargas and violent police crackdown. When I asked Eduardo later what moved him to join the protest, he said he felt morally compelled. Though he’s well over the age of workers affected by the law, he wanted to express his solidarity, as well as document any violations of the protesters’ rights. His “little grain of sand in all of this,” he says, is to use his camera to make visible the violence and criminalization of social protests. He also emphasizes that the rights being stripped away from young workers are rights that were won through years of struggle, not without bloodshed—and believes they belong to all Peruvians, without exception.
Eduardo spoke of reports that big department stores such as Saga Falabella and Ripley have already fired older workers in their factories. And workers in several petroleum unions in the northwest region of Piura put out a press release yesterday warning that 1,000 workers were given pre-termination notices, and they don’t doubt it’s because their companies want to hire more cheaply under the new law. Josseline, another member of the INFANT team, who has participated in youth organizing since she was very young, also shared her perspective on the law. She says it’s clear the law is intended to benefit large companies, and feels that young people across the country, from a range of backgrounds, are unified against it. Even young people whose parents own companies and supposedly won’t have to worry about how much they’ll be paid, she tells me, have taken to the streets...indignant. “This affects everyone.”
In my attempt to understand the contexts and potential consequences, positive and negative, of this new law, I am guided in part by the philosophies and practices at the heart INFANT’s work: affirming young people’s agency (or “protagonismo”) as a way of recognizing their contributions to community development; educating them about their rights as children, and as workers; and embracing non-violence. INFANT’s work demands we adopt a more nuanced understanding of what it means to be a working child. This struggle for labor rights for 18-24 year olds is thus connected to a larger struggle for the recognition of the contributions of all kinds of workers. Josseline speaks of the generations before her who have fought for the recognition of NNATS--Niños, Niñas y Adolescents Trabajadores—so that their work could be seen as something dignified, as opposed to automatically deemed “exploitation.” Working can allow young people to develop skills and abilities beyond what they learn in school, and to help their parents, Josseline emphasizes. We’re not saying that everyone should work, she adds, but we cannot pretend that children don’t work in Perú, and we should fight for dignified conditions for all workers—including the very young ones. With respect to the new labor law, both Josseline and Eduardo acknowledge that there are, of course, young workers being exploited. And this makes it especially difficult to craft a singular set of regulations that will benefit everyone. For the 18-24-year-olds currently making less than minimum wage, and with no benefits at all, the law is a gain. But it comes at the expense of those ready to enter the workforce, poised to lose the salary and benefits that were until recently considered basic rights.
Eduardo calls Perú a nation that contains many nations; a pluricultural country. This makes it impossible, he echoes, to create a law like this that would truly benefit everyone. He talks about life in many of Perú’s rural communities, especially in the Andean regions where a collective work practice known as the minga (or mink’a in Quechua) is a fundamental part of cultural education. In many communities throughout Perú, and other parts of South America, families work on one another’s farms to help the whole community thrive—and children are a part of this work as well. Children come of age in their culture by participating in the planting and harvesting of crops, as well as in festivals and celebrations. For children in these contexts, work is an essential part of their formation, as well as the transmission of culture from one generation to the next. This example is instructive not only in the specificity of its relationship to the new law, but in its acknowledgement of the many realities in a single country. Official figures say there are 3 million working children in Perú—but it is impossible to assign them all a single status. Some work with their families in the minga; others work in illegal mines, where they are exposed to harsh chemicals and other dangers without being fully aware of them; still others juggle on street corners; while others help out in their family’s businesses.
The critics of the Ley Pulpín demand they be treated with dignity and respect despite their age. Eduardo’s first critique of the Ley Pulpín was, though it will affect 18-24 year olds, none of them were consulted. Similarly, INFANT, MNNATSOP, and other related organized youth groups, demand for children’s opinions to be heard, and taken into account—especially in political decisions that affect them directly. They are working toward a different conception of childhood—one that is open to the many realities of children in this pluricultural nation. INFANT is not a political organization, Eduardo explains. Their primary focus is to train young people to organize around their rights and the development of their communities. And those from INFANT who participated in the march went as individuals, not as representatives of the organization. But Eduardo believes that the protagonismo fostered by INFANT’s education and training has helped shaped the political engagement of so many young Peruvians—many of whom have grown, and are now walking alongside one another, demanding that their rights remain in tact.
Eduardo calls Perú a nation that contains many nations; a pluricultural country. This makes it impossible, he echoes, to create a law like this that would truly benefit everyone. He talks about life in many of Perú’s rural communities, especially in the Andean regions where a collective work practice known as the minga (or mink’a in Quechua) is a fundamental part of cultural education. In many communities throughout Perú, and other parts of South America, families work on one another’s farms to help the whole community thrive—and children are a part of this work as well. Children come of age in their culture by participating in the planting and harvesting of crops, as well as in festivals and celebrations. For children in these contexts, work is an essential part of their formation, as well as the transmission of culture from one generation to the next. This example is instructive not only in the specificity of its relationship to the new law, but in its acknowledgement of the many realities in a single country. Official figures say there are 3 million working children in Perú—but it is impossible to assign them all a single status. Some work with their families in the minga; others work in illegal mines, where they are exposed to harsh chemicals and other dangers without being fully aware of them; still others juggle on street corners; while others help out in their family’s businesses.
The critics of the Ley Pulpín demand they be treated with dignity and respect despite their age. Eduardo’s first critique of the Ley Pulpín was, though it will affect 18-24 year olds, none of them were consulted. Similarly, INFANT, MNNATSOP, and other related organized youth groups, demand for children’s opinions to be heard, and taken into account—especially in political decisions that affect them directly. They are working toward a different conception of childhood—one that is open to the many realities of children in this pluricultural nation. INFANT is not a political organization, Eduardo explains. Their primary focus is to train young people to organize around their rights and the development of their communities. And those from INFANT who participated in the march went as individuals, not as representatives of the organization. But Eduardo believes that the protagonismo fostered by INFANT’s education and training has helped shaped the political engagement of so many young Peruvians—many of whom have grown, and are now walking alongside one another, demanding that their rights remain in tact.