It was one of Latin America's most durable and fierce guerrilla movements: Andean Maoists who waged two decades of war on Peruvian society that left almost 70,000 people dead or missing.
But now, 20 years after the Shining Path suffered a spectacular decapitation with the arrest of its founding father Abimael Guzmán and most of the rest of its leadership, there is growing alarm about a peaceful successor movement that is seducing young people who have no first hand recollection of the violence of the past.
For 18-year-old Javier Ortiz, the lyrics from a little-known song from the 1950s resonate loudly today.
"The air brings the past and yesterday's aroma," goes the melancholic ballad by Los Morochucos.
"I like their songs," says Ortiz, "because the words reflect how our people feel right now."
"The only movement that represents and defends the rights of our people," he adds, "is the Movement for Amnesty and Fundamental Rights."
On the surface, Movadef, from its initials in Spanish, seems harmless. The three-year-old political movement says it wants to give a voice to those people, such as poor farmers, who have long been neglected by governments.
But Peruvians question the source of the group's inspiration and are concerned about its growing influence among the likes of Ortiz.
"The only man in the world who can solve our problems," says Vania Rimarachín, another young Movadef member, "is Abimael Guzmán."
For her, the life prisoner is a misunderstood philosophy professor who tried to offer an alternative to reckless capitalism. For most Peruvians, however, he's the terrorist leader of the rebel group that committed bloody massacres such as the one at Lucanamarca, where 69 peasants, including a six-month-old baby, were killed.
Movadef's young supporters see such atrocities as part of a war in which all sides committed human rights abuses. They chant slogans in support of Guzmán, saying he is a political prisoner who should be freed. They deny that terrorism existed in Peru, and complain that history books side with the winners of the war.
But such ideas make survivors of rebel attacks shiver.
"The problem with these young people," says Vanessa Quiroga, "is that they weren't even born."
As a girl, Quiroga lost her leg when a bomb exploded in Lima in 1992, and is angry that Movadef is not banned outright from becoming a political party.
"We should be teaching them that, if they don't learn about what really happened, it could happen again."
One of Movadef's best-known candidates is Vasty Lescano, who served 16 years for aiding terrorism, but the group insists it is not a threat and would never take up arms like the Shining Path did.
However for Eduardo Dargent, a political analyst, its Maoist ideology is dangerous nevertheless and could find an even larger following if the government doesn't move to promote a healthy debate about it.
"You have to nourish this group of youngsters with alternative ideas," he says, "because if these are the only ones floating around, it's understandable if they become more attractive."
Angelo Arias, 16, says he would never join a group like Movadef.
He learnt about the Shining Path from survivors of its attacks and gives talks in schools about keeping the memory of the past alive.
"One woman was crying when she remembered," he recalls. "And this really affected me. Socialism doesn't lead to anything."
They might have a different take on the past, but Arias and Ortiz ultimately agree that deep inequalities remain in Peru, and that a balanced history lesson may be what the country needs to bring about real change.