On shadows and light: Temer and Allende
The interim President, a mature man of a generation that is already writing its epilogue, is at an age to consider how he will go down in history: as a sad specter of a jurist who became an authoritarian opportunist, or as a democrat who, at some point, lost his way and partially recovered?
I have in my hands Arnold Hauser's classic book, "The Social History of Literature and Art," in which this great intellectual, born in Hungary (1892) and educated in Germany and Italy—a follower of the German historicist school and of Lukács—traces a vast panorama of the history of the arts, from prehistoric times to the age of cinema. Hauser argued that, just as politics and culture in general cannot be separated from the forms through which humans produce in order to live and reproduce, art cannot be understood—in the evolution of its content and vital forms—without linking it to the most prosaic material aspects of human existence: eating, dressing, drinking, producing goods, and relating in a dominating way to nature.
On page 279 of the Martins Fontes edition (2003), when discussing the Renaissance and Baroque periods, Hauser compares the art of the Quattrocento with the already decadent art of the Middle Ages. There he contrasts the fresh, "vivid," clear forms of Renaissance art with medieval decadence, which has "a somber air of fundamental melancholy, a barbaric splendor of bizarre and overloaded forms." The transition from one era to another does not always do justice to its main protagonists: Churchill lost the elections after leading England to victory against Nazi barbarism, Getúlio Vargas committed suicide after modernizing the country and enshrining fundamental social rights of working-class citizenship in law, and Jean Jaurès was treacherously assassinated after consecrating the identity of pacifism with socialism in 20th-century France.
I tried to draw an analogy between Hauser's brilliant formulation and the national political situation, and the tragedy of the Temer government came to mind without any prejudice. Isn't it a government with a "somber air" and "fundamentally melancholic" atmosphere, after only a few weeks in existence? Isn't it a government of "bizarre and overburdened forms"? In the resumption of the democratic struggle in our country, which is overcoming the manipulations of the media oligopoly, isn't it a government absorbed in the sadness of its illegitimacy? Without any legitimacy, it wants to immobilize the President with 54 million votes, whom it replaced through the machinations of co-optation, in a Parliament with 200 suspects of illegalities and corruption!
I have in my hands another book, "A Wanderer Between Two Fidelities" (Ed. Ponteio, 20015), by one of the most beloved figures of the Brazilian left, Professor Luiz Alberto Gomes de Souza. A militant Catholic and social fighter, he spent many years in various countries of our Latin America working for international aid organizations and fighting—I dare say—for our convictions of social justice and freedom. It is a book of memoirs and lessons from a life fully realized, with the suffering of others, the dispossessed, offended, and exploited, as his reference point.
A passage from Professor Luiz Alberto's book – not to mention the political generosity of President Dilma when she received President Fernando Henrique after his election – is enlightening in forming a judgment about the legitimacy and greatness of a political leader, whether interim or not. Professor Luiz Alberto recalls witnessing President Allende in 1970, while observing the vibrant popular demonstrations following the proclamation of his resounding victory, repeating from the balcony of the Student Union: "Not a single dented car, not a single broken window!" The celebrations ended peacefully, but the discontent of the fascist right, allied with traditional conservatism, was certainly already preparing its coup attempt: Allende remained in history, and the assassins of Chilean democracy are merely traces of the delirium of evil and murderous hatred.
This example from Allende serves as a comparison to the procedures being adopted by the Temer government in relation to President Dilma, with the particular reminder that Temer, as Vice-President, allied himself with the worst elements of the opposition to the government he was part of, in order to assume power without votes, in a veritable indirect election disguised as a baseless "impeachment." But how will Temer be remembered in history, beyond his already established record as a conspirator against his own government?
The interim President is certainly not a fascist, although he has benefited from the fascist hatred sown by the media oligopoly against the PT (Workers' Party) and everything related to the left and democratic libertarianism. The interim President, a mature man of a generation that is already writing its epilogue, is at the age to consider how he will go down in history: as a sad specter of a jurist who became an authoritarian opportunist, or as a democrat who, at some point, lost his way and partially recovered? These are his two possibilities, because he will certainly not be a shadow of Churchill, Getúlio Vargas, or Jaurès, for he lost those roles when he strayed down the coup path.
Revoking the restrictions on the President's movements, before the Supreme Court does so, would not be a heroic act or a mitigating factor of her illegitimacy, but it would be a sensible gesture from someone who wants to put some limit on the authoritarian posturing that seems to be rapidly plaguing her short period in government.
Tarso Genro was Governor of the State of Rio Grande do Sul, Mayor of Porto Alegre, Minister of Justice, Minister of Education, and Minister of Institutional Relations of Brazil.
* This is an opinion article, the responsibility of the author, and does not reflect the opinion of Brasil 247.
