March to Maracanã

July 1, 2013

Maracana_inline There were celebrations in the streets of Rio de Janeiro and across this huge nation yesterday as Brazil won the Confederations Cup, comprehensively beating reigning world champions Spain three-nil at the famous Maracanã Stadium and, in the process, raising hopes that Brazil can be victorious when they host the World Cup next year. But victory for the Seleção (the Brazilian national team) is not enough for huge numbers of Brazilians as protests continue to proliferate around the country.

Yesterday saw a sizeable mass of approximately 5-10,000 protesters march to the stadium prior to kick-off. The meeting point was Praça Saens Peña, a small park in the Tijuca district of the city. People were milling around for an hour or so as numbers steadily grew – a mixed crowd but predominantly between the ages of fifteen to thirty-five years old. Several distinct groups were easily recognisable: a revolutionary socialist party with red flags and highly organised chanting; a group called Aldeia Maracanã, led by a handful of men dressed in traditional indigenous attire, protesting the recent violent eviction of an indigenous community hub as part of the stadium redevelopment; a group of mostly teenagers wearing the shirts of rival football teams and waving gigantic flags proclaiming “Football is for the people” and “Fifa go home!” There was also a small contingent of youngsters dressed in dark clothing, many wearing V for Vendetta masks, adopting Black Bloc tactics.

As people began to amble leisurely from the park into the street the impressive size of the protest became far more noticeable. Bodies, banners and Brazil flags stretched back as far as the eye could see and the banging of drums kept different beats throughout the snaking mass. This particular action was focused largely on Brazil’s hosting of the World Cup and so no chants or scrawled signs mentioned grievances about transport fares and no signs seemed to mention Brazil’s President Dilma Rousseff, despite her flagging poll ratings. Most people’s ire was targeted at Rio’s Mayor, Eduardo Paes and the State Governor, Sergio Cabral. Also on the receiving end were José Maria Marin, the president of the country’s football association as well as Fifa more generally who were told variously in written and spoken word to essentially “Piss off back to Switzerland.” The reality is rather a different story to the one told by Fifa President and well-known fantasist Sepp Blatter who insisted just the other day that his organisation “has come out of this stronger, with our image enhanced.” If the Confederations Cup is anything to go by, the 2014 World Cup’s image will be as much remembered for its tear gas as its samba.

The two most powerful banners on display were both on the much debated subject of violence. A long message drew attention that the kind of violence faced by protesters is wrong, but that the much worse violence suffered by those in the favelas was also wrong and called for a joint struggle against this violence. Though the context is different, this is reminiscent of people in protest movements needing to listen to those from communities in Britain who are endlessly targeted by police for stop and search and who’ve been killed in police custody by the hundreds. The other sign needs no context or explanation, the translation is enough: “Violencia é morrer na fila do hospital” (“Violence is dying in a hospital waiting room.”)

As the march made its way slowly and rhythmically through Tijuca’s neighbourhoods and into Maracanã district, massive public support was shown to the protesters. People came out onto their balconies, leant out of their windows, waved both Brazilian flags and white flags (which signifies support here). Some hurriedly tore up bits of paper and dropped it all down like confetti while others just clapped and cheered and smiled. At one point, several apartments in several apartment blocks began to switch their lights on and off – an impromptu light show of solidarity met with cheers from the protesters and chants inviting all supporters to join them in the street.

As we drew closer to Maracanã, the atmosphere grew heavier. The number of helicopters overhead went from two to five and they now flew much lower. It began to drizzle and protesters started to put their gas masks on, meanwhile others began to collect rocks and other objects to throw at the police. Two young girls, no more than sixteen or seventeen, fastened each other’s flimsy medical masks. The first signs of police were uneventful, they lined up as animated as Beefeaters, watching the crowds move past – some protesters even snuck a photo carrying their signs next to stony-faced cops, others just photographed the police. Then they began to set a cordon, blocking each entryway that led in towards the stadium. As the march kept on moving round, police shuffled up the side to reinforce the blocking of the next passage. This went on for a few minutes until things came to a natural pause at a four-way crossroad on which hundreds of police blocked the entire wide boulevard that protesters wanted to take to Maracanã.

People hung around waiting for the back of the march to catch up, got themselves good vantage points on walls and up trees, rested after a sweaty march and bought cold drinks from the vendors who’d pulled their hefty iceboxes all the way from Praça Saens Peña. It was like a kettle in its tranquilising effects and the sense of frustration you feel when you go on a long march and the home stretch is blocked by a division of shield-carrying centurions – though people could leave if they wanted to. Some began to talk tactics, one older man from the red flag-carrying group was trying to rouse the troops to search for other ways in but the next course of events was to be decided by the teenagers dressed in black.

A handful of these youngsters threw a few objects at the police, I can’t say for sure what they threw. But I’m all too aware of what was thrown in retaliation. My throat instantly constricted, making breathing close to impossible for a good minute or two as five, six, seven tear gas canisters landed directly around us filling the entire space with smoke. Some protesters ran into the area to throw things back, many others ran out in search of oxygen – the amount of time spent in the centre of what resembled an urban warzone was more or less determined by whether you owned a proper gas mask. Not being able to see and not being able to breathe was reason enough for many of us to make a hasty and hoarse retreat but no doubt the skirmish continued for some time.

Brazil is a country that loves its football, there were people dancing in the streets after winning a fairly unimportant tournament last night. But football is not enough and no matter how many times Sepp Blatter insists that the World Cup “is not political” the statement becomes no less fatuous. The most popular chant at the protest last night says it all: “Quero saúde e educação, e que se fode-se se o Brasil for campeão” (I want health and education, I don’t give a fuck if Brazil are champions.)

By Michael Richmond | @Sisyphusa