Slums in Rio de Janeiro. Flickr. Some rights reserved.
Given that the cycle of Latin American progressive politics (progresisimo)
appears to be coming to an end, it seems the right time to develop an in-depth
analysis of the phenomenon, one that goes beyond providing political or
economic snapshots or dwells on secondary data, but rather tries to get to
the root of what progresismo is, and has been all about. But before I
start, I want to make it clear that the end of the cycle will no doubt be
extremely difficult for popular sectors and people on the left: it is
will leave us in a situation of uncertainty and anxiety about the repressive
right wing environment we are going to have to live with in the immediate
future.
As a term, Progresismo can seem a little vague, containing as it
does very different political processes. By my own definition it includes those
governments that attempted to change what was the Washington Consensus, but
never aspired to go beyond the extractive and financial phases of capitalism.
The governments of Brazil, Argentina, Uruguay, Chile and Ecuador – and Paraguay
when it was ruled by Fernando Lugo – fall squarely into that category. Those of
Venezuela and Bolivia can be viewed in another light given that they have shown
a willingness to transcend the reality they inherited, and not simply manage
it.
But why put the Ecuadorian government of Rafael Correa on the list? The
main reason is its relationship with the country’s social movements: popular
movements in Ecuador – indigenous people, workers and students – called a
national strike for the 13th of August in reaction to an
authoritarian government that persecutes leaders and grassroots organizations.
At the same time, right wing media and business groups, encouraged by the
United States, are waging campaigns throughout the South American region with
the goal of tipping the balance of power in their favor. However, as a
counterbalance we have the revival of popular movements, – particularly in
Brazil, Chile, Ecuador and Peru – fighting against a model that continues to
concentrate wealth and against governments that have not committed themselves
to structural change.
In my view, it is in Brazil where we can find the most profound debate
about the significance of the twelve years of government of the Workers Party
(PT), headed by Presidents Lula da Silva and Dilma Rousseff. This may be due to
the fact that Brazil represents half of the South American region in terms of
population and production, due to its undeniable regional and global
significance and, above all, due to the fact that the PT – created from by
trade unionists, former guerrillas and ecclesial communities – is the largest
party on the Latin American left and represents the driving force, together
with social movements, behind the major international social forums held in the
country, as well as the São Paulo Forum, organized in conjunction with other
left wing parties.
The Brazilian Marxist philosopher Paulo Arantes, who occupies a place on
the left of the PT spectrum and who constitutes a reference point in many of
the debates about the Left, argues that the country and its left wing are tired
and exhausted. “We have rapaciously mined and exhausted the immense reservoir
of political and social dynamism built up during the time the dictatorship was
ending*,” he said in one of his latest speeches (“Correio da Cidadania”, July
15, 2015).
The spent force he refers to, is the ethical power that brought into being
the PT, the union federation (CUT) and the Landless Movement (MST), the social
organizations that constitute the country’s main progressive political power.
The demand for quick results that produced a “a social decay never before
experienced,” and which can be summarized as “the right of the poor to have
money” is, in his opinion, one of the keys to understanding the cycle we
are now witnessing. Whereas the dignity of the working class was always a
priority, what we have now is a range of concerns that focus on managing rather
than transforming: a policy of betting everything on the growth of the economy,
with no goals beyond that.
The sociologist Francisco de Oliveira is one of the Left’s most respected
intellectuals. He was a founding member of the PT during the dark days of the
dictatorship (1980) and then helped found the PSOL (Socialism and Freedom
Party, 2004) when the Lula government began implementing neoliberal reforms. He
coined the term “reverse hegemony” to explain how the rich consented to be led
politically by those they generally dominate, with the proviso that no
questions be raised about capitalist exploitation. In his opinion, what
happened in Brazil is similar to the experience in South Africa under the ANC
government.
In a 2009 article D Oliveira stated that “Lulismo is political
regression” (Piauí, October 2009). At that time, the last year of Lula’s second
term, the statement seemed out of place, bold and controversial, despite the
fact that it was shared by many Brazilians on the left. This was borne out by
the results of the 2006 presidential elections, when Heloisa Helena (expelled
from the PT for refusing to vote for pension reform) received 6.5 million votes
as the PSOL candidate, almost 7% of the total vote.
Six years later, in the midst of a neoliberal financial adjustment that
violates social rights and a mind-boggling corruption scandal (Dilma
acknowledged that the amount of money stolen is equal to one percent of GDP), we
might well ask again whether De Oliveira was right, whether progresismo
was in fact a step forward or back.
One of De Oliveira’s central arguments is that the Lula and Dilma
governments triggered a depoliticizing of society, in large measure because politics
was replaced by management and because “the unions and social movements,
including the Landless Movement, were coopted, although the MST is still
resisting”.
At this point the analyses diverge, not only in Brazil but within the
entire region’s left wing. One side takes the view that the progressive
governments were a step forward, their main argument being that poverty was
reduced, brought down to its lowest levels in recent history. In this context
it’s worth considering two elements: on the one hand, economic growth allowed
more people to become part of the labor market, while on the other, social
policies and increases in the minimum wage undoubtedly played a role.
But another sector, myself included, argues that there has been no
significant improvement in inequality, and no structural reform, while at the
same time the country suffered deindustrialization and the economy became more
dependent on commodity exports. In this sense we can say that liberalism was
clearly not an advance.
But was it all a setback, as De Oliveira argued? If we put politics at the
center of the debate, the situation takes on a different perspective. From a
left wing point of view, politics revolves around the capacity of the popular
sector to organize, mobilize and weaken the economic and political power of the
Right, thus opening the way for structural change. From this standpoint,
popular power in Latin America has been seriously eroded by progresismo.
Large demonstrations June 2013 in Brazil, which were criticized by the PT for
allegedly playing into the hands of the Right, are clear evidence of the
changes that have taken place in both the upper and lower echelons of Brazilian
society.
The problem now, is how a depoliticized and disorganized society, a result
of the left squandered the social authority it accumulated during the
dictatorship, is to confront the coming right wing offensive. It is,
incidentally not the only part of the world where this has happened.
Three decades ago the social democrat PSOE became the government of Spain;
was it a step forward or a step backward? I should point out that while I am
not trying to compare European socialism with Latin American progresismo,
I am commenting on how social movements became weaker in both situations.
This article was first
published by La línea de fuego, Ecuador.