The four Seasons

Image: Méline Waxx


Every four years the feast and farce of democracy is repeated

“Poor land of Bruzundanga! Old, for the most part, like the planet, its entire mission has been to create life and fertility for others, because those who were born on it, those who lived on it, those who loved it and sucked its milk, never had peace upon your soil!” (Lima Barreto, The Bruzundangas).

Those who live in this rough draft of the country know it well. An election year is one in which all liquidators, directors, agents, managers and disgoverners of the neocolony disguise their incompetence, cynicism and negligence with apparent last-minute improvements. The elevator that kept getting stuck, now slides on the plume. That crater, which had not been repaired for three years, appears resurfaced. Under huge spotlights, a new Faculty is inaugurated (although it is nothing more than a poorly designed extension of the land of an old Technical School).

The speech of these creatures becomes milder. The ultraliberal of the first hours now sounds almost like a liberal – a mixture of democratic and enlightened – boasting about actions that, in theory, prioritized care for the population… Tsk, tsk. If you live in São Paulo, the richest, most expensive and most inhospitable city in the southern hemisphere, notice how the municipality goes without a janitor. Also note the disrespect and neglect reserved for homeless people.

Disguising hand in hand with bankers, industrialists, agribusinesses and TV shepherds, these self-smiling figures compete for space with sub-celebrities. That's why they join them on talk shows of shallow content and questionable taste. By the way, the biggest difference between the candidates and the media faces that orbit the stratosphere cyber, resides in the environment in which they circulate. Radio and television still convey greater credibility than social networks, social networks and news channels. podcast. That's why, every four years, there they are populating the telescreens with very expensive advertisements, funded with the taxpayer's hard-earned money.

The cycle repeats itself since we met for people. In the year before the elections, part of the so-called traditional press allies itself (spontaneously or through bargaining) with a wing of pre-candidates (including those who declare themselves “non-political”). That same press, no matter how much it catches, explodes and puts its reporters at risk, will not hesitate to support the representative of the interests of the owners of newspapers, radio and television stations, in obedience to the American “model” of feeling (selfish), thinking (acculturated) and act (imperialist).

Elected thanks to the help of collaborationists who love the positivist banner, but hate the country (and dream of a house in Orlando), the first two years of the term pass between shady dealings between the elected officials and their friends. As we know, the competence or ethics of your team members is a secondary criterion.

The fallacy grows with more of the same. In the name of anticommunism (“democracy”), backwardness (“bridge to the future”) and economic health (“austerity”), rights are withdrawn; native populations, riverside dwellers and family farmers are expropriated; fauna and flora are on the radar of predatory tourism; the worker loses the protection network he had, in the name of “job generation”; misgovernment throws direct and indirect at the opposition and elects rivals to scorn in public. Some movement leaders and worthy politicians are eliminated, blinded by sabotaged investigations.

The anti-corruption discourse pretends to be the counterpart of excesses in corporate cards; the cracks; the party fund; of uninvestigated murders; of racial injuries; of prejudiced speeches; verbal and effective attacks on science (cutting grants, questioning professors, attacking science, etc.).

The third year of office is usually the one in which misgovernment begins to lose strength. For that very reason, it reinforces power structures; praises the actions adopted until then (which boil down to selling the little we had in exchange for coins). Resorting to tired expressions such as “gigantism of the public machine”, the manager chooses the “cost cuts”, applied arbitrarily, starting with the supposed “reduction of privileges” (which only applies to those who receive a hundred times less than the president of the neocolony, the governors of the hereditary captaincies and the heads of councils).

Salaries and pensions of those who receive the least are frozen; the only advantage of public employment, which used to be stability, is withdrawn. With the exception of men in uniform, suits and capes, civil servants who least burden the State are treated as parasites. Nothing is said about the entourages that mock on social networks, while sipping millions on expensive and useless trips, led by friends and family members of representatives. These visits do not favor the country's economy; they only reinforce the hypocrisy of the “team” specialized in doing nothing and selling everything almost for free.

In general, they are resentful towards the public university, who protest against the democratization of higher education; they are allergic to the very people who elected their rulers; they criticize and veto the access of the most humble to air transport; are negligent with health (manipulate statistics and withdraw funds from the SUS), but staunch supporters of Chicago Boys – that bunch of speculators from the 1970s, inspired by the mantras of competitive neoliberalism, specialized in superimposing the free market over social welfare.

If you've made it this far, I recommend listening to Vivaldi. I say “listen” because I fear there is no time to learn the violin while the ship is sinking.

*Jean Pierre Chauvin He is a professor at the School of Communication and Arts at USP. Author, among other books, of Mil, uma dystopia (Luva Editora).


See this link for all articles