In Salvador, an early morning thunderstorm washed away torn paper posters, empty soda bottles, as well as an odd assortment of abandoned sneakers, broken wood sticks and debris of the violent confrontations from the previous day. Now and then, an armored police van could be seen speeding silently down empty avenues, lights flashing.
This scene was repeated, with minor variations, in many large cities. But in the heart of Brazil’s manufacturing, the so called ABC Region outside the city of São Paulo, TV crews were beaming back scenes reminiscent of Apocalypse Now: an acrid haze from still burning tires floated in the streets; blackened wrecks of police cars and buses haphazardly dotted the urban landscape; rows of shops with broken windows and gaping doors added to the vision of destruction and irreality.
TV viewers were served non-stop images of violence from the day before, of interviews with victims and of seemingly deserted cities. Shocked by the extent of the destruction, many businesses had not opened and, by and large, people had decided to stay home.
Despite the endless televised group discussions and opinionated pundits, viewers were still struggling to make sense of what they had seen: massive crowds surging between concrete city blocks like the sea at high tide, companies of red shirted militias, some on foot others riding motorcycles, giving chase to straggling demonstrators. But two videos held viewers in their seats: one of a policeman, his clothes set on fire, slowly crumbling to the ground in a silent scream, the other of a police squad, beating two men senseless with their clubs, long after these had stopped moving. Had the police put their lives on the line in defending the safety of the citizenry or had they behaved like thugs?
The government seemed just as shocked and dumbfounded as the public. The presidential office had released no communique so far, while the Interior Ministry had condemned the violence and declared a state of emergency.
The main opposition party had been divided as to how to react. But on September 23rd, the leaders of the PSDB came out with a unified message that President Dilma Rousseff should resign or be impeached, recalling the words of former PMDB icon, Ulysses Guimaraes, back in 1992 when then President Collor was himself under threat of impeachment for corruption:” He thinks he still he is president, but he no longer is”.
Attuned as ever to where power was shifting, and conscious of its own weakened position as a result of the indictment of several of its most prominent members, the PMDB issued a communique calling for “ the voice of the people to be heard, and for politicians to respect it”.
Fearing an imminent vote of impeachment, the PT and its allies called for “an immediate popular show of support in favor of democracy and against the rabid forces of oppression”.
Soon, thousands of armed milicias petistas and sympathizers took to the streets in Brasilia, encircling the seat of government, the Planalto , as well as the Brazilian Nacional Congress, ostensibly to protect both. When Vagner Freitas and a handful of CUT followers stormed the news set of TV Brasilia to denounce a presumed coup, the temperature rose by several degrees.
In Goianias, São Paulo, Rio, Salvador, and elsewhere, supporters of the government in place occupied or blocked access to strategic centers of power or industry. Having been widely criticized for the use of excessive force, federal and local police forces stood by.
The 23rd came and went. On the 24th, public employees unions called for a general strike. They were soon followed by those of Petrobras, Banco do Brazil, as well as those of the likes of CSN, Usiminas, GM, Ford and Fiat.
On the 25th, air traffic controllers joined the movement. The country had ground to a halt. The PT had effectively broken into several factions, the more extreme being the more vocal, the PMDB was not sure whether to make effective its dominance of the governing coalition, and the opposition was, as usual, divided and not ready to govern.
Brazil slowly drifted into chaos, as basic services were no longer provided, private industry was on strike, the supply chains of commerce were no longer functioning, and the streets were no longer safe. Change needed to come, and it did on the 26th.
This scene was repeated, with minor variations, in many large cities. But in the heart of Brazil’s manufacturing, the so called ABC Region outside the city of São Paulo, TV crews were beaming back scenes reminiscent of Apocalypse Now: an acrid haze from still burning tires floated in the streets; blackened wrecks of police cars and buses haphazardly dotted the urban landscape; rows of shops with broken windows and gaping doors added to the vision of destruction and irreality.
TV viewers were served non-stop images of violence from the day before, of interviews with victims and of seemingly deserted cities. Shocked by the extent of the destruction, many businesses had not opened and, by and large, people had decided to stay home.
Despite the endless televised group discussions and opinionated pundits, viewers were still struggling to make sense of what they had seen: massive crowds surging between concrete city blocks like the sea at high tide, companies of red shirted militias, some on foot others riding motorcycles, giving chase to straggling demonstrators. But two videos held viewers in their seats: one of a policeman, his clothes set on fire, slowly crumbling to the ground in a silent scream, the other of a police squad, beating two men senseless with their clubs, long after these had stopped moving. Had the police put their lives on the line in defending the safety of the citizenry or had they behaved like thugs?
The government seemed just as shocked and dumbfounded as the public. The presidential office had released no communique so far, while the Interior Ministry had condemned the violence and declared a state of emergency.
The main opposition party had been divided as to how to react. But on September 23rd, the leaders of the PSDB came out with a unified message that President Dilma Rousseff should resign or be impeached, recalling the words of former PMDB icon, Ulysses Guimaraes, back in 1992 when then President Collor was himself under threat of impeachment for corruption:” He thinks he still he is president, but he no longer is”.
Attuned as ever to where power was shifting, and conscious of its own weakened position as a result of the indictment of several of its most prominent members, the PMDB issued a communique calling for “ the voice of the people to be heard, and for politicians to respect it”.
Fearing an imminent vote of impeachment, the PT and its allies called for “an immediate popular show of support in favor of democracy and against the rabid forces of oppression”.
Soon, thousands of armed milicias petistas and sympathizers took to the streets in Brasilia, encircling the seat of government, the Planalto , as well as the Brazilian Nacional Congress, ostensibly to protect both. When Vagner Freitas and a handful of CUT followers stormed the news set of TV Brasilia to denounce a presumed coup, the temperature rose by several degrees.
In Goianias, São Paulo, Rio, Salvador, and elsewhere, supporters of the government in place occupied or blocked access to strategic centers of power or industry. Having been widely criticized for the use of excessive force, federal and local police forces stood by.
The 23rd came and went. On the 24th, public employees unions called for a general strike. They were soon followed by those of Petrobras, Banco do Brazil, as well as those of the likes of CSN, Usiminas, GM, Ford and Fiat.
On the 25th, air traffic controllers joined the movement. The country had ground to a halt. The PT had effectively broken into several factions, the more extreme being the more vocal, the PMDB was not sure whether to make effective its dominance of the governing coalition, and the opposition was, as usual, divided and not ready to govern.
Brazil slowly drifted into chaos, as basic services were no longer provided, private industry was on strike, the supply chains of commerce were no longer functioning, and the streets were no longer safe. Change needed to come, and it did on the 26th.
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