One commission met for eight minutes despite full staffing costs.
En los pasillos del Congreso peruano, el Estado ha construido una arquitectura de comisiones especiales que consume millones de soles del erario público sin apenas dejar rastro de trabajo legislativo real. Entre agosto y diciembre de 2024, veintitrés de estas comisiones extraordinarias absorbieron más de 3,2 millones de soles en personal, mientras que solo siete de los veintinueve comités existentes lograron producir algún informe. Es una vieja tensión de las democracias: la diferencia entre la apariencia institucional y la sustancia que debería sostenerla.
- El Congreso destinó más de 3,2 millones de soles a 68 trabajadores en 23 comisiones especiales, con asesores cobrando más de 10,000 soles mensuales, sin que la mayoría produjera resultado alguno.
- Varias comisiones gastaron casi 30,000 soles y se reunieron una sola vez; la Comisión CEMOL celebró su única sesión con una duración de apenas ocho minutos, con todo su personal contratado y pagado.
- El patrón no es la excepción sino la norma: comisiones presididas por legisladores de distintos partidos repiten la misma fórmula de escasa actividad, sin informes finales y con mandatos que simplemente se solicita prorrogar.
- Seis nuevas comisiones están a punto de iniciar operaciones en 2025, cada una con la misma estructura de personal, lo que añadirá decenas de miles de soles mensuales adicionales a un gasto que ya carece de justificación documentada.
- El Congreso no ha respondido públicamente cómo justifica este gasto extraordinario frente a una productividad que, en la mayoría de los casos, es inexistente.
Entre agosto y diciembre de 2024, el Congreso peruano destinó más de 3,2 millones de soles a financiar veintitrés comisiones especiales. La fórmula era uniforme: dos asesores senior cobrando algo más de 10,000 soles mensuales cada uno, un técnico y un asistente administrativo. En total, al menos 68 personas fueron contratadas para sostener este aparato. Sin embargo, al examinar los resultados, el balance es casi vacío: solo siete de las veintinueve comisiones existentes produjeron algún informe preliminar o final.
El patrón se repite con llamativa consistencia. La Comisión Multipartidaria sobre el VRAEM, la Comisión del Bicentenario de la Independencia y la Comisión del Proyecto Binacional Puyango-Tumbes se reunieron una o dos veces y no dejaron informe alguno, cada una con un costo cercano a los 30,000 soles. El caso más extremo fue la Comisión Especial Multipartidaria de Organización Legislativa: costó más de 20,000 soles y su única sesión duró ocho minutos.
Estas comisiones no responden a necesidades institucionales ordinarias, sino a acuerdos políticos, alianzas partidarias y, según fuentes consultadas, a prácticas de favoritismo en torno a la directiva del Congreso. Son estructuras de conveniencia política revestidas de formalidad estatal.
Lejos de contraerse, el gasto se expande. Seis nuevas comisiones están próximas a iniciar actividades en 2025, abordando temas que van desde infraestructura tecnológica educativa hasta la reforma integral del sistema de justicia. Cada una replicará la misma estructura de personal, sumando decenas de miles de soles mensuales adicionales. La pregunta que el Congreso no ha respondido es si alguna de ellas justificará, esta vez, lo que cuesta.
Peru's Congress has assembled a sprawling apparatus of special commissions that consumes millions in public money while producing almost nothing. Between August and December of 2024, the legislature spent more than 3.2 million soles—roughly $860,000—to staff twenty-three of these extraordinary committees. The accounting is precise and damning: each commission was allocated two senior advisors earning just over 10,000 soles monthly, a technician at nearly 5,800 soles, and an administrative assistant at 3,435 soles. Across the five-month period, Congress hired at least sixty-eight people to fill these roles. Yet when investigators examined what these committees actually accomplished, the record was nearly blank. Only seven of the twenty-nine special commissions—the original twenty-three plus six newly created ones—produced even a preliminary or final report.
The pattern repeats across commission after commission. The Multipartisan Commission on the VRAEM region, led by Raúl Huamán of Fuerza Popular, cost the state 29,844 soles and employed four staff members. It convened exactly once, in August. The Bicentennial Independence Commission, chaired by Vivian Olivos, also of Fuerza Popular, spent the same amount with four employees and met once in October, leaving no closing report behind. The Climate Change Mitigation Commission under Rosio Torres held four sessions. The Puyango-Tumbes Binational Project Commission, led by Héctor Ventura, met twice. These are not outliers. They are the pattern.
Some commissions achieved a kind of absurdist efficiency in their unproductiveness. The Special Multipartisan Commission on Legislative Organization, chaired by Óscar Zea of Podemos, cost 20,602 soles and convened once. During that single session, members remained present for eight minutes. The Chinecas Special Project Commission, led by Kelly Portalatino of Perú Libre, spent 19,543 soles and held five meetings. The Budget System Improvement Commission under José Luna Gálvez met twice at a cost of 29,844 soles. The Pacific Alliance Parliamentary Oversight Commission, chaired by Elizabeth Taipe, was among the more active, meeting eight times, yet still cost the state 29,844 soles for four staff members over five months.
These commissions exist alongside the Congress's twenty-four ordinary committees, which handle regular sectoral work. The special commissions, by contrast, emerge from specific political objectives, party alliances, or what sources describe plainly as favor-trading and favoritism among those close to party leadership and the congressional directorate. They are creatures of political convenience, not institutional necessity. Yet they carry the full weight of a state payroll.
The spending continues to expand. Six additional commissions were recently created and are preparing to begin operations in 2025. One will oversee technology infrastructure in education, chaired by Edgar Tello of Podemos. Another will ensure universal access to drinking water. A third will draft an entirely new penal code. A fourth, approved on December 11th, is a high-level multipartisan commission given ninety days to propose a comprehensive reform of Peru's entire justice administration system. Two more investigative commissions will examine energy contracts for Iquitos and the execution of public budgets and social program transfers. Each will follow the same staffing formula: two advisors, one technician, one assistant. Each will cost the state roughly 179,064 soles per month in personnel alone.
The question Congress has not answered is whether any of this is worth the cost. The commissions were created through agreements of the congressional directorate, approved in plenary sessions, their memberships ratified. The machinery of institutional process was followed. But the machinery produced committees that meet once or twice, that produce no reports, that sit idle while drawing salaries. Of the twenty-nine special commissions now in existence or about to exist, only seven have shown any tangible work product. The rest have either delivered nothing in 2024 or simply requested that their mandates be extended—a request to keep spending money while continuing to produce nothing.
Citações Notáveis
The special commissions emerge from specific political objectives, party alliances, or favor-trading among those close to party leadership and the congressional directorate.— Congressional sources and documents reviewed
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why does Congress need twenty-nine separate special commissions on top of its regular committees? Aren't the ordinary committees supposed to handle this work?
The ordinary committees do handle sectoral work—education, health, defense, that sort of thing. The special commissions are supposed to be temporary, focused on specific objectives or crises. But in practice, they've become a way to create positions and distribute influence. A party leader wants a seat at the table on a particular issue, or wants to reward an ally with a staff job, so a new commission gets created.
But someone must be tracking whether these commissions actually accomplish anything. How did this go unnoticed?
The tracking exists—Congress keeps records of sessions, produces reports. The problem is that the records show almost nothing. Seven out of twenty-nine commissions produced any report at all. One commission met for eight minutes. Another met once and produced nothing. The data is public; the failure is just very visible once you look at it.
What happens to these commissions after their mandate expires? Do they just disappear?
Some do. But many request extensions. They ask to keep operating, to keep their staff, to keep drawing their budget. And Congress approves the extensions. It's easier than shutting them down and having to explain why.
Is there any accountability for the staff members who work on these commissions? Do they face consequences for low productivity?
Not really. They're hired through congressional agreements, not civil service rules. They're paid their salary for showing up. If the commission doesn't meet, they still get paid. There's no performance metric, no consequence for inactivity.
What's the total cost if all six new commissions start operating next year?
Each commission costs roughly 179,000 soles monthly in personnel alone. Six new ones would add about 1.07 million soles per month, or over 12 million soles annually, just in staff salaries. And that's before you count the operational costs—office space, materials, administrative overhead.