Brazil has gone into national mourning. In Rio de Janeiro, shiny streamers have disappeared, flags no longer adorn balconies, and even babes in strollers have lost their official yellow-and-green shirts. A tragedy has occurred.
No, there hasn't been a terrorist attack upon Brasilia, and no tidal wave has struck Ipanema. Something much worse has sent tremors through the land: Brazil's recent loss in the World Cup to France. To make matters worse, the heavily favored Brazilian team, packed with superstars, gave up with barely a struggle. The country is in shock and still dissecting the ignominious defeat. The dream of an unprecendented sixth global championship is over.
Brazilian soccer fans (i.e., 98% of the population) are slowly emerging from the delirium of the last few weeks, during which the entire nation shut down during Cup games. They are reluctantly turning their attention to another, less important contest: the presidential election that will take place October 1.
Brazil's incumbent commander-in-chief, Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva, announced his re-election bid two weeks ago and is heavily favored to win in the fall, despite Congressional vote-buying and campaign money-laundering scandals that have plagued his administration and Worker's Party (PT) since last August. A recent poll shows Lula far ahead of his nearest rival, the PSDB's Geraldo Alckmin, former governor of Sao Paulo state.
Lula's support now comes largely from Brazil's poor and uneducated, still enamored of their charismatic leftist president, a labor leader who was swept to power on a wave of populism in 2002. But he has disappointed the intellectuals and middle class who once fervently backed him. They expected great things, including land reform and a serious reduction of poverty and inequality of income. At the same time, Republicans up north feared radical policies from the socialist leader of South America's largest nation. Lula suprised everyone by pursuing centrist, slow-growth, IMF-pleasing economic policies much like those of his predecessor, Fernando Henrique Cardoso.
Lula has instituted the Bolsa Familia program that provides food and health care for some of Brazil's poorest families. Yet the nation of 185 million is still plagued by severe poverty and rampaging crime. The currency is solid, exports are strong and IMF debt has been paid. Yet at the ground level, little has changed. To quote an old saying, "Brazil is doing well, but the Brazilians are not."
Four years ago, Lula and the Worker's Party were seen as honest, the last best hope for a Brazilian government free (or relatively free) of corruption. The recent scandals have therefore been especially painful for former supporters. Lula has not been implicated but his chief-of-staff and several PT leaders have lost their jobs. Congressional members of various parties have been accused of receiving large monthly payments from the PT in exchange for political support. Worse yet, many accused legislators are running for re-election themselves in a display of formidable audacity. For politically aware Brazilians, it's more of the same in one of the world's most corrupt countries.
There is also outrage about Lula's complacency regarding fellow socialist Evo Morales' plans to nationalize Brazilian energy holdings in Bolivia.
So what to do to keep a campaign on the track? Why, ally oneself with the Brazilian national soccer team, which boasted superstars such as the two Rons: Ronaldo (the "phenomenon," hero of Brazil's 2002 Cup victory) and Ronaldinho Gaucho (FIFA's player of the year in 2005). During the World Cup, Lula seized every opportunity to associate himself with the squad, referring to the state-owned Petrobras energy company as the "Ronaldinho of industry" and saying that he carries out politics as Ronaldinho plays soccer, "with happiness."
Lula also got into an amusing spat at the start of the Cup when he asked Brazil's coach during a video conference whether Ronaldo was overweight. Ronaldo, sometimes called "the president" of the national team, was irritated and later responded, "Don't they also say that he (Lula) drinks a lot? It must be a lie, just as it's a lie when the press says I'm fat." Interestingly, when New York Times reporter Larry Rohter suggested in 2004 that Lula drinks too much, his visa was temporarily revoked. But Ronaldo's retort elicited a letter of support from the president, and both shrugged off the exchange. Such is the power of soccer in a land of two presidents.
Brazil's World Cup dream is over for the next four years. And its dream of clean government and an end to poverty will probably have to wait until at least 2010 as well.
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