The streets are sounding the alarm for the PT (Workers' Party) and the government.

A ghost haunts the Workers' Party world: the ghost of perplexity. Despite the important achievements of the last ten years and favorable electoral polls, the wave of protests is shaking the main party of the Brazilian left and drawing closer to the federal government. With the mayor of São Paulo in the spotlight and crowds of young people in the streets, everything that was solid seems to be crumbling into thin air.

Many wonder why there is so much anger after a decade in which poverty decreased, income was better distributed, and full employment was practically achieved. It is true that the demonstrations are, for now, gravitating around a local agenda. The youth revolt mainly demands lower transport fares and the right to protest, opposing the violence of the state police. Only a political autistic person, however, would fail to perceive that a new situation has been established in the country.

Some members of the Workers' Party, horrified, did not hesitate to envision, rocking the cradle of the protests, the hairy hand of the right, dragging along the infants of the far left. But the conspiratorial narrative did not withstand the facts. The centers of power of conservatism – especially the traditional media outlets and the São Paulo state government – ​​unleashed a fierce reaction against the mobilization, which culminated in the relentless repression of last Thursday.

Police brutality fueled the escalation of protests and their national reach. The defense of a fundamental democratic right, which both the Minister of Justice and the mayor of São Paulo initially hesitated to uphold, was embraced with energy and radicalism by the youth of major metropolitan areas. Right-wing parties and governments were responsible for the repressive escalation, but they benefited from the timidity of sectors of the left, surprised by phenomena outside their control.

Part of the reactionary leadership recalculated, aligning their discourse to contest the rebellion and turn it against the federal government, temporarily shelving the option of violence. So far, they have suffered a resounding failure. Not only have the demonstrations and leaders resisted embracing their banners, but there have been frequent signs and slogans against Governor Alckmin and the press itself, especially Rede Globo.

Even the targets chosen by the most radicalized segments – the Palácio dos Bandeirantes in São Paulo, the Legislative Assembly in Rio, the National Congress in Brasília – demonstrate that young people are not in the streets serving an anti-PT restoration. Nor do they seem to feel represented or included, however, in the process driven by Lula's victory in 2002.

The vast majority of the protesters were under 25 years old, children of middle-class families and also from the outskirts of the city. Judging by their slogans, signs, and flags, they are not against the reforms undertaken since 2003. But they want more, better, and faster.

No one raised their voice to criticize the Bolsa Família program, payroll-deducted loans, or the Prouni program. No banners were raised to defend privatizations and other policies favorable to market interests. Few protesters carried signs against the "mensalão" scandal and corruption. The struggle is for the expansion of political and social rights, a demand embodied by the requirement for cheaper public transportation.

But they grew tired of waiting for these advances to be sponsored by governments and parties, even those on the left. They don't seem satisfied with the timidity and slowness in implementing bolder reforms that would accelerate the improvement of their living conditions. And they decided, as happens at certain historical moments, to take the construction of the future into their own hands.

The rejection of party flags can be analyzed from a common perspective, as a rejection of instruments of collective organization or depoliticization. But it could also be understood, alongside other factors, as symbolism of those who, averse to conservative currents or the apparatus of small groups, do not feel captivated or voiced in the project led by the PT (Workers' Party).

This is probably not just a socio-economic issue, but also a political one. A segment of society, even those with progressive leanings, is showing signs of fatigue with the strategy of change without rupture. There is growing unease with a governance equation that preserves old institutions, relies on alliances with segments of the oligarchy itself to form a parliamentary majority, abandons the debate on values, and renounces social mobilization as a method of exerting pressure.

Previously, this weariness was confined to small circles of the most disgruntled activists. After all, much can be done even without structural reforms, starting with reorienting the national budget, integrating tens of millions into citizenship, and expanding social gains. The fact is that this scenario may have reached its limit. And the streets are beginning to cry out.

The movement is not against the PT (Workers' Party), but it puts the party's and government's strategy in check. There is a demand for popular and youth protagonism, made explicit in recent days. Are the party leadership and the Presidential Palace willing to consider this mobilization a power factor and rebuild their connections with these movements, boosting their rise to build forces towards a new generation of reforms?

This and other questions are embedded in the alarm that the vinegar revolt has sounded. Faced with the outcry, the Workers' Party (PT) can either rectify its strategy and renegotiate with the street rebellion to deepen and accelerate fundamental reforms. Or it can pay the price inherent in situations where the left and the streets become divorced.