200 years of independence or a fantasy of independence?

An old friend recently asked me whether we will actually celebrate our bicentennial of independence on September 07, 2022, and whether the Bolsonaro "government" honors this country's tradition of independence. The question is pertinent, but requires careful consideration in answering it so as not to fall into certain simplistic solutions before a more thorough analysis of the issue.

I believe we can separate the wheat from the chaff to recognize what we can truly consider independence and what would be a fantasy of independence—a fantasy also conceived with complexity, namely, what resides in our desires and what forges our illusions and self-deceptions, even the deceptions of a significant part of society.

Official historiography has valued, and still values ​​to a great extent, the act of a prince who, in an "epic scene" on the banks of the Ipiranga River in São Paulo, shouted "Independence or Death" and broke colonial ties with the mother country. In this sense, the conquest of our independence became circumscribed to the myth of a hero who was able to break with his own father and motherland, Portugal, to dedicate himself body and soul to the country that was newly born as a sovereign nation thanks to the audacity and courage of this hero.

The human and political geography of this process was marked by the glory of the royal family: a prince regent soon crowned emperor, Dom Pedro I, his wife, the Austrian princess Dona Leopoldina, and a few others, very specifically, with the figure of José Bonifácio standing out as a mix of politician and advisor to the prince and emperor.

In this historical version, the social struggle was left behind, as were many other struggles of the Brazilian people, often forgotten and/or undervalued. Where are the struggles for independence, as well as for a republic and the abolition of slavery, waged within the people and their legitimate leaders? Where did movements and events such as the Pernambuco Revolution of 1817, the Quilombo dos Palmares in the mid-17th century, the Minas Gerais Conspiracy in 1789, the Bahia Conspiracy of 1798, the Confederation of the Equator of 1824, the Malês Revolt of 1835, the Praieira Revolution between 1848 and 1850, the Cabanagem between 1835 and 1840, the popular struggles for the independence of Bahia that consolidated, and perhaps best reflected, the independence of Brazil between 1822 and 1823, and so many other struggles against the colonial system that subjugated Brazil, fit into this official version?

This independence narrative, written by establishment scriptwriters, consumes a huge part of Brazil's official history—a history devoid of the people. This leads many to believe that Brazil is a country where there were no popular struggles, and that our achievements were more like gifts and/or restricted actions of certain "heroes" than genuine popular conquests.

This chronicle, even this way of telling history, had and has an objective, namely, to accommodate the people, to make them revere heroes chosen by those in power, indeed, to instill in the minds and souls of the people the idea that Brazil has owners and that they are well-born whites from the "great families" heirs of the traditional oligarchies originating from the colonial period, from a remnant of the aristocracy and remaining members of the royal family, and from a nascent bourgeoisie in the 19th century, consolidated during the monarchy and even more so in the republic.

In this historical narrative defined by our elites, the subject of Brazilian history is its princes and its economic-political elite, while the people are left with nothing but bones, figuratively or literally. In the official history that has long prevailed in Brazil, the people are the audience, never the protagonists. The people are those who have no face, or in the best sense of this legacy, have a squalid, decrepit expression, and often not even a proper name, therefore unworthy of making and being the subject of history.

The official narrative of Brazil's independence, in this sense, is a fantasy, and a fantasy that bequeathed to the people an objectified, pale, and silenced condition. And the Brazil that emerges from these narratives is one that left colonization paying a heavy financial debt to the country that colonized us for about four centuries and that so often plundered the mineral resources and labor of our people with outrageous taxes, hunted and murdered the indigenous peoples, and dehumanized African blacks in order to control our economy and wealth through the enterprise of slavery, thus consolidating a non-distributive, concentrating model, whether in the economy, politics, culture, or transmission of knowledge. It is the country that, leaving the yoke of Portugal, fell under the yoke of the great colonial empire of that time, England, and that, without truly establishing its sovereignty, dragged itself from empire to empire, namely, from Portugal to England; from England to the United States; from the United States to that transcendent entity in the liberal economic logic that is the Market. 

In this sense, what is the role of a figure like President Jair Bolsonaro and his "government"? He is the manager of the colonial process, that is, one who, speaking of "freedom," violates in every way the existential condition of our people; who, speaking of "independence," hands over our resources and wealth to foreigners; who, advocating frivolous symbols for his "government" such as "Brazil above all," subjects the country and its strategic companies for the construction of sovereign development to the economic interests of big capital, completely capitulating a future for the country and its generations and corrupting, in fact and in law, the meaning of sovereignty. Furthermore, being the crude creature that he is, perhaps it is better to associate him with the figure of a foreman, a slave overseer, than even a manager, which, let's face it, requires some sophistication, which is by no means the case.

In these 200 years of Brazilian Independence, we have never been so down on our feet, never so blatantly subjugated by others, never walked so low and uncertainly as we do now. And this is so much the case that perhaps, instead of celebrating the bicentennial, I believe we should unite to actually proclaim Brazil's belated Independence. An independence that, if it doesn't come, means our death. An independence that can have no other hero, no other protagonist but the people.

This mess that this troublemaker – perhaps the most fitting adjective for this unqualified individual in the Presidential Palace – calls independence, freedom, is nothing more than words with antithetical meanings, namely, words that, when pronounced, have a meaning absolutely contrary to what they supposedly mean. But this is not a simple accident of historical history; this is the most authentic translation of a historical narrative that excluded the people from the highest causes of this country called Brazil. Moreover, a name that in its origin evoked fantasy, whether that of the plundering of the country through the exploitation of its resources by the invader, such as brazilwood, or a European legend from the 15th and 16th centuries that designated Brazil as a lost paradise to be found and exploited to unrestrained pleasure. In some way, these fantasies have been realized by this colonial master who has rigorously continued to claim this country and make use of it.

I stated at the beginning of this text, however, that the question of our independence needs to be understood in light of its contradictions and paradoxes, and not in a simple and ordinary way. Yes, it is true that on one side of this story our independence is a fantasy; however, there is another side where independence is a non-subordinated conquest that is still being woven, whether in the evocation of our social and historical struggles that we have waged, or in the struggles that we have yet to wage in the future of our nation. A nation is not built without a people, as princes and oligarchies with their officialdom shaped by history suppose.

Fantasy, however, is present in words and in our discourse structures, therefore it has diverse meanings, namely, on the one hand it can be the vertigo of a process that sheds reality, on the other hand, it is part of reality itself which is never absolutely factual, but pressed by interpretations; on the one hand fantasies bind us to our imaginaries and symptoms, on the other hand fantasy is a pertinent fabric of our desires and our dreams of a future and a successful life in various aspects.

These dreams, desires, and horrors are experienced individually and collectively, and are part of historical discursive disputes. In Brazil, the will of the Lord has prevailed; however, if we do not wish to be subjected to and enslaved by certain narratives and discourses, by certain places reserved for us, then it is important to reclaim our history in what truly speaks of our struggles and affirm our independence with the signature that we have so often signed with blood-stained inks.

The bicentennial, therefore, will have distinct meanings, because on the one hand it will be the instrument of princes, oligarchs and their pet toads for yet another coup against this country and its people, but on the other hand, it must be the hope, the action and the affirmation of a historical, unfinished, permanent struggle, so that this country and its diverse and culturally rich people can indeed pronounce their sovereignty and independence.

As you can see, Brazil's independence is far from being a completed project, or a fixed date on the calendar; it is a movement that still demands much of us.