Guest post by Bruno Mota
Like many similar upheavals in the past, the current wave of protests in Brazil was sparked by a seemingly minor and local grievance, and fanned into a firestorm of discontent by overreacting authorities taken by surprise. Protests have now spread to the entire country, and evolved into a still inchoate mass movement that is challenging the legitimacy of the entire political class. I was there last night, in downtown Rio de Janeiro, when hundreds of thousands of people marched peacefully, demanding change to ‘business as usual’ in Brazil, even as few agreed about what that entailed and how to go about doing that. And I was there when masked young men threw rocks at the police, and the police responded by gassing pretty much everyone indiscriminately. I claim no particular expertise to talk about these events, other than living them. What follows is just my take.
As they had done many times in the past decade, on May 23 the state and city governments of São Paulo announced an increase in the unified bus/subway fare, from R$3,00 to R$3,20. Over the years these increases had far outstripped inflation; but for once this was not the case. During the two years the price went unchanged, the Real lost 9 percent of its value, which a 7 percent fare hike is not enough to offset. Still, the increase met with opposition from a small activist group called ‘Movimento Passe Livre’, committed (somewhat quixotically) to making city transport free at the point of delivery. As usual, they called for a protest. And, beginning on the 6th of June, people came. Not in their hundreds, as was the norm, but in their thousands, and tens of thousands. Somehow, through text messages, Facebook and plain old chattering, the notion that this was the last straw percolated through São Paulo’s middle class youth.
At first police reaction was muted. But by the fourth, and by then largest, protest march in São Paulo, things got seriously out of hand. Facing some isolated instances of violence, police responded with volleys of mostly indiscriminate tear gas, baton rounds and rubber bullets. At least 105 people required hospitalization: not only peaceful protesters, but also random passersby and journalists got hit, sometimes intentionally. Others were detained under flimsy pretexts, including, notably, ‘possession of a vinegar bottle’ (it helps with the tear gas). In an age of ubiquitous video cameras, that got people’s attention. All over the country, around dinner tables, at bus stops (we are a gregarious bunch) and in social networks, there was talk about little else. Brazilians decided, as usual, that ‘somebody’ ought to do something about it. But, this time, the ‘somebody’ was us. And, in a phase change of popular opinion, they at long last took to the streets. All their friends were going, after all. No one wanted to be left behind. Crowds in São Paulo increased by an order of magnitude; and they were joined by people in Rio de Janeiro, Belo Horizonte, Recife, Brasilia and elsewhere.
It was clear from the beginning (as many hand-made signs didactically made clear) that the protest was about far more than ‘just twenty cents’. Brazil has progressed considerably since re-democratization, and especially during Lula’s presidency. People are generally supportive of Dilma Roussef’s government. But over the last few years a certain complacency had set in among politicians and pundits alike. Things were going well, they thought; people were satisfied; Brazil was leaving its perennial problems behind on its way to becoming a developed country. What the protests made clear was that, on the contrary, people are not satisfied. Not with the slow pace of reforms, with the mediocre rate of growth or with the generally atrocious public services funded by voracious taxation. But, most of all, they were not satisfied with the political class; their self-awarded perks, bloated salaries and bloated staffs; their absurd sense of entitlement and lack of shame. These problems are not specific to one government or one party; they permeate the entire political system. When a notoriously crooked senator, who had previously only avoided losing his job by more or less openly threatening to spill the beans on his colleagues, is elected president of the Senate; when politicians convicted of corruption by the highest court in the nation are still free, running and being elected for office; and when horse trading leads to a fundamentalist nutcase becoming president of the House’s committee for human rights, and then promptly moving to authorize ‘gay cure’ therapy, we Brazilians can’t help but feel embarrassed for our country. Because, after all, we elected these clowns, and then failed to hold them accountable. The feeling on the streets there was equal parts outrage and shame.
In spite of these sentiments, protests were at first generally festive affairs. People carried hand-made signs about all sorts of disparate demands and complaints, chanted creative insults towards their esteemed elected representatives, played drums (way better than any Occupy Wall Street drum circle), and sang the national anthem with varying degrees of success. Enterprising street vendors sold cold drinks from ice boxes and barbecue on skewers from portable grills. On the streets and online, groups as different as libertarians (‘less taxation! Less state!’), anti-corruption crusaders (‘jail for those convicted of the mensalão!’), unreconstructed communists (‘the revolution starts now!’), Anonymous (costume manufacturers hired extra shifts to keep up with the demand for Guy Fawkes masks) and generic do-gooders (‘better health care!’) rubbed shoulders. It was joyous, chaotic, inspiring.
Even with this lack of focus, a few common themes emerged. Both the high cost and the various inadequacies of urban transportation networks were highlighted, of course. The upcoming World Cup (in 2014) and Olympics (in 2016) also drew a lot of fire, because of draconian FIFA demands and the fear that, instead of leaving a legacy of renewed urban infrastructure, these events are going to saddle the country with white elephant sports venues and a pile of bills to pay. But a particular kind of hate was reserved for political parties of all hues, to the point that their flags were often ripped off and burned on sight. There is a pervasive feeling of not being represented by any of the existing parties. It is unfair to say Brazilian politicians are an undifferentiated mass of crooks, but it seems that even most of those who are honest are either nutcases or accept cronyism, corporatism and corruption as the way of doing politics in this country; and view flat-out mediocrity as its best possible outcome. For a while the workers party (PT, Lula’s party) was regarded by many as being relatively clean and committed to honest governance; but after more than a decade in power, having to form some dodgy alliances to govern, PT is very much seen as another insider outfit, leftish-flavored but cozy with many it used to excoriate as crooks and worse, and tainted by the mensalão vote-buying scandal.
All current major political parties were shaped one way or another, by the massive Diretas Já protests for direct presidential election that happened in the final years of military rule. This perhaps helps explain why, after the scale of the protests became clear, public figures from the president down were eager to praise them as the epitome of democracy, and profess their commitment to the rights of free expression and association (while bemoaning a minority of vandals and looters who, of course, should be vigorously pursued by police). One can reasonably doubt their sincerity. Still, it is heartening that at the very least political expediency demands this. Turkey, we are not. And, at least with respect to the bus fare hikes, the protest did achieve something. São Paulo, followed by hundreds of other cities, quickly lowered them back to their previous levels. But not everyone shared in this spirit of civic understanding.
Trouble started in the last Rio march after it had already been underway for a few hours. I was further back, but from what I can tell it began when one guy started hurling insults at a line of mounted cops stationed close to City Hall. He then somehow got into a fistfight with a small group of masked men and, as the people behind shouted ‘NO VIOLENCE!’, the cavalry charged under a volley of tear gas. The compact mass of protesters behind, most of whom had little idea of what was happening ahead, promptly stampeded, leaving behind only those few who actually wanted to fight the police. For hours thereafter the central region of Rio was a confusing mess of people trying to get home (sometimes stopping by for a beer or two), getting gassed and staging impromptu protests against the police and screaming at the stone-throwing yahoos. You could tell the trouble spots by the hovering helicopters, but, due to Rio’s constrained geography, they were sometimes hard to avoid entirely. At one point I had to take refuge with a friend in a pizzeria in Lapa, where some seriously committed pizza eaters kept at it even as street battles swirled outside and tear gas wafted in. Later our way as blocked by a flaming barricade In Gloria, and as police cars and armored vehicles converged there we took refuge in the lobby of a residential building (when you see Rio’s transvestites beating a hasty retreat you know things are serious). I got home, eventually, like everyone else. The juxtaposition of street violence and normalcy was indeed a bit jarring; but I suspect the whole situation was new to all involved; protesters, police and bystanders alike.
It is hard to tell if this leaderless, diffuse movement will result in some lasting change for good. It is certainly easy to criticize its lack of focus and a coherent set of demands. But this is perhaps missing the point. In Brazil, politics had become a dirty word, the discussion of which is better avoided in polite company, the exercise thereof being reserved to group of professional politicians from whom very little is expected. But what we are doing on the streets, by both protesting and by holding interminable discussions about what we should protest about, is politics, in the best sense of the term. I have never heard and read so much political discussion, and seen so many people having to finally articulate and defend some, any , political position. And this cultural shift, rather the actions of some elected official, may perhaps become this movement’s best and most lasting legacy. Here and there, it seems to me, we Brazilians are finally realizing our own part in all this. In a democracy, politics and politicians emerge from the society they supposedly serve. And, by our actions and attitudes, from bribing traffic cops to parking on sidewalks to voting for known crooks that ‘get things done’, we ordinary Brazilians have thus contributed to the many ills we now protest. Now we understand, I hope, that is also up to us to sort them out.
