The law existed on paper, but permission to use it remained in limbo.
En un momento de incertidumbre económica, el Congreso peruano aprobó una ley que permitiría a los afiliados al sistema de pensiones ONP retirar hasta 4,300 soles de sus fondos acumulados, ofreciendo un alivio potencial a quienes han contribuido durante años a un sistema que data de 1973. Sin embargo, el Poder Ejecutivo impugnó la norma ante el Tribunal Constitucional, suspendiendo en la práctica lo que el papel ya había prometido. Es la historia de siempre: entre la esperanza legislativa y la realidad del ciudadano se interpone la arquitectura del Estado.
- Millones de peruanos afiliados a la ONP vieron en la ley aprobada por el Congreso una oportunidad concreta de acceder a ahorros que, en muchos casos, llevan décadas inmovilizados.
- La incertidumbre se instaló de inmediato: el gobierno del presidente Sagasti presentó una demanda de inconstitucionalidad, y el Tribunal Constitucional aceptó el caso, dejando la ley en un limbo jurídico.
- El monto que cada persona podría retirar no es uniforme —depende de su historial de aportes—, lo que convierte la consulta del saldo en un acto cargado de expectativa personal.
- La plataforma digital de la ONP permanece operativa, permitiendo a los afiliados conocer su saldo con DNI y contraseña, aunque sin certeza de cuándo —o si— podrán hacer uso de ese dinero.
- El país vive una paradoja administrativa: la ley existe, el mecanismo existe, pero el permiso real para actuar sigue suspendido en el aire mientras los tribunales deliberan.
A inicios de diciembre, el Congreso peruano aprobó una ley que autorizaba a los afiliados al sistema de pensiones ONP —tanto activos como inactivos— a retirar hasta una UIT, equivalente a 4,300 soles. El Sistema Nacional de Pensiones, en funcionamiento desde 1973 y administrado por la Oficina de Normalización Previsional, nunca había contemplado una medida de este tipo. Aunque la norma fue publicada en El Peruano, no se fijó ninguna fecha concreta para iniciar los retiros.
El monto a recibir dependería del historial de cada afiliado: quienes aportaron con regularidad podrían acercarse al techo de 4,300 soles, mientras que quienes contribuyeron de forma esporádica recibirían menos. Para conocer su saldo antes de que se abriera cualquier ventana de retiro, los afiliados podían ingresar a la plataforma en línea de la ONP con su DNI, contraseña y un código de seguridad. Quienes hubieran olvidado su clave podían recuperarla proporcionando nombre, número de documento y teléfono.
Sin embargo, una sombra legal se cernía sobre todo el proceso. El Poder Ejecutivo, bajo la presidencia de Francisco Sagasti, interpuso una demanda de inconstitucionalidad, y el Tribunal Constitucional aceptó revisarla. Así, la ley existía en papel, el sistema para consultarla estaba activo, pero la posibilidad real de retirar el dinero permanecía en suspenso. Para los peruanos que habían aportado durante años, quedaba abierta una pregunta sin respuesta: ¿llegarían a usar algún día la información que ya podían consultar?
In early December, Peru's Congress voted to approve a law that would let people withdraw money from their pension accounts with the ONP—up to one UIT, which at the time was worth 4,300 soles. The measure applied to both active and inactive contributors to the National Pension System, a program that has been running since 1973 and is administered by the Oficina de Normalización Previsional. By late December, the law had been published in the official gazette, El Peruano, but no official date had been set for when people could actually start requesting their money.
The amount each person would receive, if the law proceeded as written, would depend entirely on how much they had contributed over the years. Someone who had paid in consistently would be eligible for more; someone with a sparse contribution history would receive less. The law capped the withdrawal at one UIT regardless of how much a person had saved, so the real question for most people was whether they had enough in their account to reach that ceiling, or whether their balance fell short.
For anyone wanting to know their exact balance before the withdrawal window opened, the ONP had set up an online platform. The process was straightforward but required a few pieces of information. A person would log in using their national ID number, a password, and a security code. Once authenticated, the system would display their complete contribution record and current account balance. If someone had forgotten their password, they could request a new one through a separate link on the ONP website by providing their name, ID number, and phone number.
The timing of this announcement mattered because uncertainty hung over the entire process. The executive branch, led by President Francisco Sagasti, had filed a constitutional challenge against the law, arguing that it violated the constitution. The Constitutional Court had already accepted the case for review, which meant the law's future was not guaranteed. Even though Congress had voted to approve it and the official gazette had published it, the highest court in the land could still strike it down.
For ordinary Peruvians who had been contributing to the ONP for years or decades, the window to check their balance was open now, before any court decision might change everything. The government's legal challenge created a peculiar moment: the law existed on paper, the mechanism to withdraw existed, but the permission to actually use it remained in limbo. Anyone who wanted to know what they stood to gain from the withdrawal—or whether they had enough contributions to make it worthwhile—could find out immediately. What remained unknown was whether they would ever get the chance to use that information.
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why would the government challenge a law that Congress just approved? Doesn't that seem contradictory?
It does on the surface. But the executive and legislative branches don't always agree on what's constitutional, even when both are democratically elected. The government likely believed the withdrawal would destabilize the pension system or violate some constitutional principle about how social security funds should be managed.
So people could check their balance, but might never be allowed to withdraw it?
Exactly. That's the strange position people were in. The ONP made the information available, which was useful for planning. But the Constitutional Court's decision could render the whole thing moot.
How much could someone realistically expect to get?
The cap was 4,300 soles—about a month's wages for many Peruvians. But that was the ceiling. If you hadn't contributed much over the years, you'd get less. The platform let you see your actual number.
And if the court struck it down?
Then you'd have checked your balance for nothing, and the money would stay locked in the system. You'd go back to waiting for retirement age to access it.
Was there any sense of urgency among people to check before something changed?
There must have been. When a government challenges its own law in court, people know the ground could shift. Checking your balance became a way to at least know what you had, even if you couldn't touch it yet.