mere 36 years after its exit from dictatorship, Brazil is teetering at the brink of an authoritarian abyss. The year ahead will show whether the country’s still-young democratic institutions can withstand an all-out assault from a populist president who seems determined to remain in power by any means.
Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro’s election in 2018 owed much to a mobilization of right-wing groups demanding economic liberalization and to widespread alienation from the country’s traditional political parties and their chronic corruption scandals. During the election campaign, Bolsonaro built his political base by tapping these two sources of support while also availing himself of the backing of an important bureaucracy that had largely been keeping its nose out of politics: the military.
But Bolsonaro’s two campaign commitments – liberalizing the economy and fighting corruption – proved to be empty. In 2020, Sergio Moro, the star judge responsible for jailing former President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva on corruption charges ahead of the 2018 election, resigned as Bolsonaro’s minister of justice. Moro was the key figure lending any credibility to Bolsonaro’s anti-corruption posturing. Since his departure, corruption scandals have engulfed Bolsonaro’s own family members, and Brazil’s famous “Car Wash” anti-corruption task force has been disbanded.
Having presented himself as an “outsider” (despite having served as a federal legislator for 28 years), Bolsonaro promised that he would make no concessions to small political parties in exchange for support. Yet he has come to depend on these parties, even negotiating aggressively for financial resources to ensure their survival. By forging an alliance with the President of the Chamber of Deputies, Arthur Lira, Bolsonaro has been able to head off 139 separate requests for impeachment from more than 1,550 individuals and 550 organizations. (By comparison, the National Congress received 68 such requests with respect to President Dilma Rousseff between 2011 and 2016, and she actually was impeached and removed from office.)
Finally, Bolsonaro has not followed through on his promise to liberalize the economy. When he came to office, he had a neoliberal platform devised by his economy minister, Paulo Guedes. Known as a “Chicago boy” because he had studied with the free marketeers at the University of Chicago, Guedes hoped to follow the model of Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet’s economic programs in the 1970s and 1980s. But now, both Bolsonaro and Guedes seem ready to abandon their previous commitment to liberalization in order to improve their chances for re-election in 2022.
Among other things, the administration is pushing for a massive expansion to Bolsa Familia (now relabeled Auxilio Brasil), a conditional cash-transfer program originally instituted by Lula’s Workers’ Party in 2003. That is understandable: As of September 2021, annualized inflation was running at over 10%, with soaring gas, food, and electricity prices severely affecting the least-advantaged social groups. To guarantee the resources for the Auxilio Brasil, however, Guedes has played a dangerous card, signaling that he is ready to abolish the constitutional spending ceiling.
Established under former President Michel Temer, this medium-term fiscal rule stabilizes real (inflation-adjusted) primary spending at its 2016 level, thereby limiting the growth of the federal government. Brazilian markets duly sank after Guedes announced his intentions.
But perhaps the feature of Bolsonaro’s term as president that warrants the most attention is the presence within his administration of high-ranking military officials. As Brazilian Army Reserve Colonel Marcelo Pimentel points out, Bolsonaro has not needed to belong to any political party since 2019 because he is already supported by a de facto “Military Party.” This arrangement represents a dangerous politicization of the armed forces, with dire implications for the political system.
The sovereign debt crises, fiscal mismanagement, and hyperinflation of the 1980s severely eroded the image of the Brazilian armed forces, and should have put an end to their political aspirations. But Bolsonaro has given some of the generals another taste of power. His vice president, Hamilton Mourão, is a retired general. In 2018, there were 2,765 active and retired military officers occupying civilian positions in the federal government; by 2020, that figure had jumped to 6,157. The Brazilian government now has proportionately more military officers serving as ministers than Venezuela does. Military personnel also lead roughly one-third of publicly owned companies, where they command high salaries.
Having regained the levers of state power, the armed forces must also assume the brunt of the blame for the country’s disastrous COVID-19 response. While the official death toll has exceeded 600,000, the actual tally is surely much higher. In October 2021, a Brazilian Senate inquiry accused the Bolsonaro administration of crimes against humanity for its misguided pandemic policies.
From June 2020 to March 2021, the Ministry of Health was led by a three-star army general, Eduardo Pazuello, who proved incapable of negotiating vaccine purchases with Pfizer. That set the stage for an aggressive second wave of infections, during which Pazuello demonstrated still more incompetence in failing to muster a coordinated national response. He has even been the subject of a criminal investigation for his inaction in the face of a health-system collapse in Manaus, the capital of Amazonas, where COVID-19 patients died from a lack of medical oxygen.
Pazuello is hardly alone. Throughout Bolsonaro’s administration, military officials have been awarded positions for which they lack the necessary knowledge or expertise. A general’s traditional training and professional experience, whether in war or peace, simply does not translate to the management of public services, particularly in Brazil. Whereas the military maintains a rigid hierarchy, Brazil’s technocratic civil service tends to afford employees more initiative and autonomy than in many countries. While military officials do not dare question their superiors’ decisions, open deliberation is central to democracy and a key virtue of efficient public administration.
The 2022 presidential election will be a decisive moment for Brazil. It remains to be seen whether Bolsonaro’s opponents will be capable of mobilizing support for an alternative. But one thing is clear: A second mandate for Bolsonaro and his military sponsors would pose a grave threat to Brazilian society and its democratic institutions. Though there would be no return to the era of military coups, that is only because the military is already in power – and has every intention of remaining so.
Copyright: Project Syndicate, 2021.
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Brazil’s Besieged Democracy
Illustration via Project Syndicate.
December 29, 2021
Brazil's democracy is under siege with Bolsonaro's promises to liberalize the economy and fight corruption proving empty. Of still greater concern is a lack of political accountability for Bolsonaro, who is supported by a de facto military party, writes University of São Paulo's Camila Villard Duran
A
mere 36 years after its exit from dictatorship, Brazil is teetering at the brink of an authoritarian abyss. The year ahead will show whether the country’s still-young democratic institutions can withstand an all-out assault from a populist president who seems determined to remain in power by any means.
Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro’s election in 2018 owed much to a mobilization of right-wing groups demanding economic liberalization and to widespread alienation from the country’s traditional political parties and their chronic corruption scandals. During the election campaign, Bolsonaro built his political base by tapping these two sources of support while also availing himself of the backing of an important bureaucracy that had largely been keeping its nose out of politics: the military.
But Bolsonaro’s two campaign commitments – liberalizing the economy and fighting corruption – proved to be empty. In 2020, Sergio Moro, the star judge responsible for jailing former President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva on corruption charges ahead of the 2018 election, resigned as Bolsonaro’s minister of justice. Moro was the key figure lending any credibility to Bolsonaro’s anti-corruption posturing. Since his departure, corruption scandals have engulfed Bolsonaro’s own family members, and Brazil’s famous “Car Wash” anti-corruption task force has been disbanded.
Having presented himself as an “outsider” (despite having served as a federal legislator for 28 years), Bolsonaro promised that he would make no concessions to small political parties in exchange for support. Yet he has come to depend on these parties, even negotiating aggressively for financial resources to ensure their survival. By forging an alliance with the President of the Chamber of Deputies, Arthur Lira, Bolsonaro has been able to head off 139 separate requests for impeachment from more than 1,550 individuals and 550 organizations. (By comparison, the National Congress received 68 such requests with respect to President Dilma Rousseff between 2011 and 2016, and she actually was impeached and removed from office.)
Finally, Bolsonaro has not followed through on his promise to liberalize the economy. When he came to office, he had a neoliberal platform devised by his economy minister, Paulo Guedes. Known as a “Chicago boy” because he had studied with the free marketeers at the University of Chicago, Guedes hoped to follow the model of Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet’s economic programs in the 1970s and 1980s. But now, both Bolsonaro and Guedes seem ready to abandon their previous commitment to liberalization in order to improve their chances for re-election in 2022.
Among other things, the administration is pushing for a massive expansion to Bolsa Familia (now relabeled Auxilio Brasil), a conditional cash-transfer program originally instituted by Lula’s Workers’ Party in 2003. That is understandable: As of September 2021, annualized inflation was running at over 10%, with soaring gas, food, and electricity prices severely affecting the least-advantaged social groups. To guarantee the resources for the Auxilio Brasil, however, Guedes has played a dangerous card, signaling that he is ready to abolish the constitutional spending ceiling.
Established under former President Michel Temer, this medium-term fiscal rule stabilizes real (inflation-adjusted) primary spending at its 2016 level, thereby limiting the growth of the federal government. Brazilian markets duly sank after Guedes announced his intentions.
But perhaps the feature of Bolsonaro’s term as president that warrants the most attention is the presence within his administration of high-ranking military officials. As Brazilian Army Reserve Colonel Marcelo Pimentel points out, Bolsonaro has not needed to belong to any political party since 2019 because he is already supported by a de facto “Military Party.” This arrangement represents a dangerous politicization of the armed forces, with dire implications for the political system.
The sovereign debt crises, fiscal mismanagement, and hyperinflation of the 1980s severely eroded the image of the Brazilian armed forces, and should have put an end to their political aspirations. But Bolsonaro has given some of the generals another taste of power. His vice president, Hamilton Mourão, is a retired general. In 2018, there were 2,765 active and retired military officers occupying civilian positions in the federal government; by 2020, that figure had jumped to 6,157. The Brazilian government now has proportionately more military officers serving as ministers than Venezuela does. Military personnel also lead roughly one-third of publicly owned companies, where they command high salaries.
Having regained the levers of state power, the armed forces must also assume the brunt of the blame for the country’s disastrous COVID-19 response. While the official death toll has exceeded 600,000, the actual tally is surely much higher. In October 2021, a Brazilian Senate inquiry accused the Bolsonaro administration of crimes against humanity for its misguided pandemic policies.
From June 2020 to March 2021, the Ministry of Health was led by a three-star army general, Eduardo Pazuello, who proved incapable of negotiating vaccine purchases with Pfizer. That set the stage for an aggressive second wave of infections, during which Pazuello demonstrated still more incompetence in failing to muster a coordinated national response. He has even been the subject of a criminal investigation for his inaction in the face of a health-system collapse in Manaus, the capital of Amazonas, where COVID-19 patients died from a lack of medical oxygen.
Pazuello is hardly alone. Throughout Bolsonaro’s administration, military officials have been awarded positions for which they lack the necessary knowledge or expertise. A general’s traditional training and professional experience, whether in war or peace, simply does not translate to the management of public services, particularly in Brazil. Whereas the military maintains a rigid hierarchy, Brazil’s technocratic civil service tends to afford employees more initiative and autonomy than in many countries. While military officials do not dare question their superiors’ decisions, open deliberation is central to democracy and a key virtue of efficient public administration.
The 2022 presidential election will be a decisive moment for Brazil. It remains to be seen whether Bolsonaro’s opponents will be capable of mobilizing support for an alternative. But one thing is clear: A second mandate for Bolsonaro and his military sponsors would pose a grave threat to Brazilian society and its democratic institutions. Though there would be no return to the era of military coups, that is only because the military is already in power – and has every intention of remaining so.
Copyright: Project Syndicate, 2021.
