We won the Oscar. Now what?

One of today's topics is Walter Salles' film "I'm Still Here," based on the book of the same name by Marcelo Rubens Paiva, which was nominated for and won dozens of awards in Brazil and around the world, a source of pride for all of us.

I won't risk doing a technical analysis of the film; there are people far more qualified than me. My approach will be different; I'll share with the reader what I heard from an important person here in Campinas:This Rubens Paiva was a communist; he carried money to the VPR-Palmares group; he was a corrupt businessman, he won contracts through corruption.".

When I was young, upon hearing a statement like that, which clearly aims to discredit a film that presents the most violent face of military dictatorships to new generations, I would become indignant and fire back opposing arguments, making a whole bunch of enemies; now that I have an EMDEC parking permit to park in a senior citizen's parking space, I only lament that revisionism and ignorance are so close and still capable of sowing so much evil.

The book and the film do not address the ideological orientation or ethical correctness of Rubens Paiva, but they present, in a delicate, moving, and emotional way, the effects of arbitrary rule on the life of a family that was forced to bury its dreams and fight in the trenches of silence for decades.

But it is worth clarifying, for those who still have doubts: the engineer and congressman Rubens Paiva, killed by the military dictatorship, was never a member of the PCB (Brazilian Communist Party) and never laundered money for that party, nor did he finance the armed struggle through support for the Revolutionary Popular Vanguard (VPR).

Another lie is that the VPR, which had Army Captain Carlos Lamarca as one of its leaders, was based at a property owned by Rubens Paiva in Juquitiba, Vale do Ribeira.

Rubens Paiva was affiliated with the PTB (Brazilian Labour Party), never the PCB (Brazilian Communist Party), and, incidentally, these parties did not participate in the armed struggle in Brazil. Therefore, the allegation that Rubens laundered money for the PCB to finance the VPR (Popular Revolutionary Vanguard) makes no sense. Furthermore, the former congressman killed by the military dictatorship did not own a property in Juquitiba; it was his father, Jaime Paiva, who owned a farm in Eldorado, SP, and Lamarca's group didn't even stay there, but rather in Jacupiranga, SP. And, to dispel any doubt, it should be noted: Rubens' father supported the military regime.

That's the truth.

Rubens Paiva was a nationalist democrat, anti-imperialist, a labor supporter, or at most a social democrat.

But what did Rubens Paiva actually do? 

In the early morning of April 1, 1964, with the military coup underway, Rubens Paiva, a federal deputy for São Paulo, made a live appeal on Rádio Nacional, defending the legality of President João Goulart. 

The speech became historic because of the congressman's courage in openly criticizing the ongoing coup; for demanding compliance with the law, the young congressman Rubens Paiva was impeached and spent several months in exile. 

What did Rubens Paiva say that cost him his mandate in 1964 and his life in 1971?

He said: “Our president [João Goulart] by taking the much-demanded measures [basic reforms] For the benefit of all our people, measures that will undoubtedly lead us to our definitive political and economic emancipation have truly harmed the interests of a small minority in our land—a small minority, however, that wields great power, all the economic power of this country, all the media outlets, the major newspapers, and the television stations. It is therefore essential that all the Brazilian people, the workers and students of São Paulo in particular, pay attention to the slogans emanating from Rádio Nacional and all other radio stations integrated into this chain of legality.In other words, he asked for legality, that was his crime.

But let's get back to the movie.

Walter Salles' film gave Marcelo Rubens Paiva's book an international dimension and allowed new generations in Brazil to learn about that period.

A curious fact: Marcelo Rubens Paiva, author of the book "I'm Still Here," born in São Paulo, studied agricultural engineering at UNICAMP and lived here in Vila Nova, in a student residence on Carolina Florense Street, this occurred in the late 1970s; however, an accident caused Brazil to lose a future agricultural engineer, but the world gained a successful writer, someone who became one of the most important figures of my generation.

Marcelo, who graduated in radio and TV from USP and in Literary Theory from UNICAMP, won the Jabuti Prize in 1983 with the well-known "Feliz ano velho" (Happy Old Year), which was adapted into a film directed by Roberto Gervitz. The film was a success, winning awards at the Gramado, Rio, and Natal film festivals.

And now, six years after the death of Eunice Paiva, Walter Salles' film, with a great performance by Fernanda Torres, told the world the story of one of our heroines, a story of how violent the military dictatorship was in Brazil.

We can imagine how violent our days would be if the Bolsonaro coup attempt had succeeded and the "rats," in the words of General Mário Fernandes, were in power and in a plenipotentiary position.

We won the Oscar, now what? 

Now we must support even more, in every way possible, all forms of artistic expression: music; dance; painting; sculpture; theater; literature; cinema and photography, free from prejudice and open to the emerging art of our peripheral reality. 

I continue to celebrate the film's victories in Venice, Cannes, at the Golden Globes, and now at the Oscars, among many others, and I'm sharing these reflections.