A legislative earthquake has rocked Peru’s Congress, with a multipartisan bill seeking nothing less than the expropriation of Telefónica del Perú S.A.A., now known as Integratel Perú.
This isn’t just another regulatory tweak; it’s a bold declaration of intent to seize control of a critical national asset, transforming it into a state-owned enterprise dubbed Telecomunicaciones del Perú, or Telperú.
The proposal, officially Proyecto de Ley 565/2024-CR, frames this audacious move as a matter of “public necessity and national interest,” a phrase that, in Peru’s often turbulent political landscape, carries significant historical weight and a potent whiff of ideological struggle.
The timing is far from coincidental.
Telefónica del Perú has been navigating treacherous financial waters, compounded by its recent sale to Integra Capital, an Argentine fund.
For a bloc of left-wing congress members, including prominent figures like Sigrid Bazán, Guillermo Bermejo, and Ruth Luque, this confluence of events presents an opportune moment to reclaim what they see as a vital national resource.
Their argument is clear: the company’s precarious financial state, coupled with what they perceive as a “fuga de recursos” – a draining of vital funds through practices like transferring key technical operations to Mexico and a reduction in local investments – necessitates immediate state intervention.
They point to an accumulated tax debt exceeding S/ 2,000 million as further evidence of a company that has not adequately served the national interest.
Beyond the headline-grabbing expropriation, the bill aims to consolidate digital connectivity as a strategic and essential public service.
The proponents envision Telperú not merely as a replacement for Integratel Perú but as a guarantor of access, a driver of technological development, and a bulwark against the perceived exploitation of national assets.
They invoke Article 66 of the Constitution, which permits state intervention in strategic sectors for reasons of national security and public necessity, providing the legal scaffolding for a move that harks back to an era of state-led economic models.
The mechanics of this proposed nationalization are as ambitious as the intent itself.
The bill mandates the Executive Power to execute the expropriation within an astonishingly tight deadline of 30 days, assuming all operations, assets, and liabilities of the company.
Telperú would be established as a public company of private law, adscribed to the Ministry of Transport and Communications (MTC).
Its initial stewardship would fall to a Council of Vigilance, a multi-stakeholder body comprising representatives from the MTC, SUNAT (the national tax agency), workers, and creditors.
This council would be tasked with overseeing the company’s financial and labor situation, reporting semiannually to both Congress and the Executive.
Crucially, the proposal outlines how Telperú would handle the existing financial obligations.
It would assume corporate bonds, debts to workers, pensioners, and local and foreign suppliers.
However, in a move likely to spark considerable contention, the bill explicitly states that debts generated internally between Telefónica del Perú and its international matrix would not be recognized.
For the current owner, Integra Capital, the compensation—or “justiprecio”—would be based on the last over-the-counter transaction for 99.3% of the shares, but significantly discounted by any outstanding tax debts, fines, and sanctions imposed by the Peruvian state.
This clause alone could ignite a firestorm of legal and diplomatic disputes, given the complexity of corporate valuations and international investment treaties.
From a labor perspective, the bill offers a glimmer of stability, guaranteeing the maintenance of rights and employment for most workers, with the exception of high-ranking management.
It also seeks to suspend any ongoing bankruptcy proceedings, effectively putting the company under state protection while the transition unfolds.
But beyond the legalistic language and the political rhetoric, what does this truly mean for the average Peruvian, for the digital lifeline that connects them to the world?
The promise is tantalizing: a state-run entity that prioritizes public access and national development over corporate profit.
The reality, however, could be far more complex.
Peru’s history with nationalized industries is a mixed bag, often characterized by bureaucratic inefficiencies, a lack of competitive drive, and susceptibility to political interference.
Can a state-run Telperú, in a mere 30 days, absorb the immense technical and operational complexities of a modern telecommunications giant, a sector defined by rapid technological evolution and fierce global competition?
The very idea of a state-owned telecom in the 21st century raises profound questions.
Will Telperú be nimble enough to keep pace with innovations like 5G, fiber optics, and emerging digital services?
Will it attract the necessary talent and investment without the profit motive driving private enterprise?
Or will it become a cumbersome bureaucracy, struggling to deliver the high-quality, affordable connectivity that Peruvians increasingly rely on?
The transfer of technical functions, like the Network Operations Center, to Mexico, while cited as a “drain” by proponents, also highlights the globalized nature of modern telecom operations and the specialized expertise often consolidated in regional hubs.
Rebuilding such capabilities domestically, under state control, would be a monumental undertaking.
This legislative gambit is more than just an economic policy; it’s a philosophical statement about the role of the state in the economy and the balance between national sovereignty and foreign investment.
It’s a test of whether a nation can truly “reclaim” a vital sector and manage it more effectively than private hands, especially when the company in question is already financially distressed.
As this debate unfolds in the halls of Congress, the real stakes lie in the quality, accessibility, and future of Peru’s digital infrastructure – and ultimately, in the daily internet connection of millions of its citizens.
The path forward is fraught with challenges, and the outcome remains deeply uncertain.
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