Waking the Sleeping Giant

By Laura Lopez

A mass movement calls for a quicker return to full democracy

For weeks, Rio de Janeiro had been gearing up for the event. The words diretas ja (direct elections now) became inescapable, splashed across posters, walls, buttons, T shirts and bumper stickers. Climbers scaled one of the peaks that surround the city and mounted a 35-ft.-high cloth banner bearing the slogan. At Maracana stadium, the huge electronic Scoreboard flashed the words repeatedly during soccer matches. The climax came last week, in Brazil's biggest public demonstration ever. An estimated 1 million people swarmed into the plaza that surrounds Rio's Candelaria Church, raising clenched fists and chanting "Diretas ja!" Yet at times the six-hour rally had the flavor of carnaval, with a hot-air balloon, a laser light show and strains of a samba beat. Shortly after nightfall, politicians and major Brazilian entertainers brought the crowd to fever pitch with passionate speeches and songs. Declared Leonel Brizola, governor of the state of Rio de Janeiro: "The history of Brazil will be divided between what happened before and what happened after this demonstration."

At issue is the way in which Brazilians will take the next step in their country's cautious return to democracy after two decades of military rule: the election of a successor to President Joao Figueiredo, 66, a retired general whose six-year term expires in March 1985. The government has decided that the choice will be made next January by a 686-member electoral college. But according to the latest polls, 80% of Brazil's voters want a direct say in choosing their next leader. The public mood also reflects a lack of confidence in the government's ability to deal with an economy beset by severe underemployment and unemployment (40%), runaway inflation (230%) and the Third World's highest foreign debt ($96 billion).

Five years ago, the military men who had been governing Brazil since a 1964 coup decided that they would take major steps to return the country to civilian rule. An important move in that direction came in November 1982, when Brazilians were allowed to cast their ballots for both local and state officials as well as for 502 members of the federal Congress. In a major defeat, the government-backed Social Democratic Party (P.D.S.) received only 38% of the popular vote; the governorships often states as well as control of the House of Representatives fell into the hands of the Brazilian Democratic Movement (P.M.D.B.) and other opposition parties. But because the electoral college is disproportionately weighted in favor of the less populous northern states, which generally support the government, Figueiredo was able to keep control of the body. Not before 1991, according to the government plan, will Brazilians vote directly for a President. Explained Figueiredo on national television last month: "Everything has its time and its hour."

After tasting victory in the 1982 elections, many Brazilians decided that the right time was now. By late last year the most prominent opposition Congressmen began to organize and lobby for passage of a constitutional amendment favoring direct presidential elections in November this year. Joining forces with students, businessmen, feminist organizations and labor unions, they began to stage mass demonstrations. Since January, hundreds of thousands of people have turned out in the cities of Curitiba, Sao Paulo and Belo Horizonte. Even the world's best-known Brazilian, Soccer Star Pele, has declared his support by dedicating a replica of Brazil's most coveted soccer cup to the cause.

One of the movement's least likely supporters, but perhaps its most likely beneficiary, is civilian Vice President Aureliano Chaves, 55. In a break with the government position, he has embraced the call for direct elections. As a result, he has become decidedly more popular than the three other P.D.S. presidential hopefuls, and the four possible opposition contenders, including Rio Governor Brizola, who all stand a better chance of winning if the electoral college is abolished.

The country's deteriorating economy has added urgency to the political debate. The "miracle" that rapidly industrialized Brazil's economy in the 1960s and early 1970s began to fade when the oil crisis hit and U.S. interest rates skyrocketed. Today the average wage--less than $150 a month--is not enough to feed the average family. Armies of beggars proliferate in city streets and scavenge for food in the refuse of open-air markets. So bad is the situation that last year the mobs took to looting supermarkets in Rio and Sao Paulo. In recent weeks teachers and metalworkers have staged demonstrations protesting mismanagement of the economy.

Much of the discontent has been generated by austerity measures that the Figueiredo government imposed after the International Monetary Fund came to Brazil's temporary financial rescue in March 1983 with a $4.9 billion loan. The measures include curbs on wage increases, a reduction of food-price subsidies and a tightening of credit. The opposition charges that these policies are far too harsh. At last week's Rio rally, P.M.D.B. President Ulysses Guimaraes accused the government of "wanting to liquidate the riches of Brazil and turn them over to the International Monetary Fund."

The amendment calling for direct elections is scheduled to come up for a vote in the Brazilian Congress on April 25. Although proponents of the change could still gather enough support, it is more likely that the P.D.S. will boycott the session, preventing the two-thirds quorum necessary for the vote to take place, and that Figueiredo will present a compromise under which direct elections might take place as early as 1988. If that does not placate his opponents, however, the President may leave office next March to the beat of protests far less festive than last week's Rio rally. --By Laura Lopez. Reported by

Michael Kepp/Rio de Janeiro

With reporting by Michael Kepp/Rio de Janeiro