Tear gas and pointed guns: Inside protests at Confederations Cup
BELO HORIZONTE, Brazil -- Its red lights flashing with anger, the half tank, half truck emerged slowly from the haze of tear gas that covered Avenida Alfonso Pena, the main drag of the Brazilian city of Belo Horizonte. It dwarfed the hundred or more black-clad riot police that marched alongside, their shields raised in a solid wall. Every few minutes came the low, flat crump of another tear gas canister being launched. The intended target -- vandals who had been breaking the windows of banks and tearing down security cameras -- fled into the shadows. So did the protesters who had been participating peacefully in the day´s demonstration at the city´s Mineirão soccer stadium, and ordinary citizens out for a Saturday evening stroll. Same with a group of regular city police officers, coughing and spluttering from the tear gas as they ran into the distance.
Welcome to the home of the World Cup.
The day had started peacefully. Rumors had circulated all week that Saturday´s demonstration was going to be the biggest yet in the city, and by 2 p.m. local time, an enormous mass of people had gathered at Praça Sete in the heart of downtown. The festive, optimistic mood was reminiscent of carnaval, although the only music came from the trio elétrico sound truck belting out the national anthem, and very few people were drinking. Faces (and even one dog) were painted green and yellow. Students squatted on the grubby sidewalk, scrawling improvised posters. Smiling parents led young children by the hand. At regular intervals another group of protesters would come streaming in from the north or south to join the throng.
Humberto Vianna, a 49-year-old businessman, was one of the older demonstrators.
"I was here in the 1980s," he said proudly. "Then we were demanding democratic elections. Now we want better public health care and education. We work hard, we pay our taxes, but we get nothing back in return."
When I asked him about the World Cup, his face fell.
"We wanted the World Cup," he said. "But the money being spent on the stadiums is scandalous."
Soon the crowd began to move. The destination was the Mineirão, nine kilometers from Praça Sete, where Mexico was playing Japan in the Confederations Cup. As we walked past the bus station, even the police joined in the fun, helping protesters take pictures and laughing at some of the wittier banners.
These reflected the diverse nature of Brazil´s street protests, which began earlier this month over a bus fare increase in São Paulo, but have now sprawled to include a range of grievances. "My love doesn´t need a cure, Feliciano," read the banner of one protester, a reference to Marco Feliciano, the president of the Human Rights Commission of the House of Representatives, who is currently promoting research into a "gay cure."
Banners with slogans like "FIFA Standard Education and Health," "Copa = Corrupção" ("The Cup = Corruption") and "New Hospitals, Not New Stadiums" agreed with Humberto´s desire for improved public services and criticized the expense of hosting the World Cup.
Some were more general. "Sorry I didn´t tidy my room, Dad, but I´m trying to help Brazil," read the poster of one student. Another memorably said "too much s--- to complain about to fit on one poster."
Whatever the motives, the demonstrations have been vast. Over a million people took to the streets Thursday, in towns and cities across the country, and the movement has captured the imagination of all economic classes, something rare in a country as socially divided as Brazil. Woe betide those who choose to criticize what is happening, as Pelé found out this week when suggesting that Brazilians "forget about protesting and support the Seleção."
The barrage of criticism he received has still not died, with Romário´s infamous comment, "Pelé is a poet ... when he has his mouth shut" never seeming more apposite.
On Friday, President Dilma Rousseff addressed the nation, promising more investment in education, an influx of doctors from overseas to help the health system, a new national public transport strategy and dialogue with demonstration leaders. It is unlikely to stop the protests, which in truth may now be directed at the sense of sloth and institutionalized corruption that pervades the Brazilian political system, rather than any one specific target.
The demonstration wound along the Avenida. We passed under bridges named Viaduto Senegal and Viaduto Républica do Congo. Stretched over one of them was a huge "Fora FIFA" ("FIFA Out") flag. The mood of the marchers remained upbeat, and there was a sense of common purpose. I stopped off to use the bathroom in one bar. "50 centavos," growled the owner. "I´m with the demonstration," I told him. He grinned. "Go on then," he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the bathroom.
Occasionally people would break into chants, or cheer when a passing car or bus honked its horn in support, but mainly the only sound was of quiet, earnest conversation.
"Don´t really know," shrugged one protester when I asked him what he planned to do when we reached the Mineirão. I asked him about the police barricades that lay ahead, protecting the FIFA "exclusion zone" around the stadium.
"They won´t stop us," he said. "We want to protest at the stadium to show the world what´s happening in Brazil."
Brasil: Flamengo, Vasco, Fluminense, Botafogo (100% Carioca) Rio > Säo Paulo
MENGÃO TRI DA AMÈRICA: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RlVt8zJhXQ