Ten faces of the struggle for human rights in Brazil

Ten faces
of the
struggle for
human rights
in Brazil
Brasília,
DECEMBER/2013
Published by the United Nations in Brazil.
This publication is the result of a partnership between the United Nations System in Brazil,
the Embassy of the Kingdom of the Netherlands, the Secretariat of Human Rights of the
Presidency (SDH) and the Delegation of the European Union in Brazil.
© United Nations, 2012
This work can be reproduced in part or completely, provided that the source is acknowledged
and that it is not for sale or for any commercial purpose.
Printed in Brazil.
Editor: Aline Falco
Technical review: UN, Secretariat of Human Rights of the Presidency and Embassy of the
Kingdom of the Netherlands Grammar review: Reinaldo Reis
Cover and graphic design: Flávia Coelho
Photos: Raphael Carmona / Iluminart
Department of Human Rights of the Presidency and EU, 2012.
100p.
ISBN: 978-85-7652-177-8
2
The presentation of the facts contained in this publication, and the views expressed herein, are not necessarily those
of the UN, of the Embassy of the Netherlands, of the Secretariat of Human Rights of the Presidency and of the Delegation
of the European Union, nor do they compromise these organizations. The names indicated and the material presented
throughout this publication do not entail the expression of any opinion whatsoever by the organizations concerning the
legal status of any country, territory, city, region or authorities therefrom, nor do they delimit their frontiers or boundaries.
1. Human Rights 2. Right to Land 3. Right to Housing 4. Crime Prevention
5. Civil Rights — Indigenous Peoples 6. Civil Rights — Quilombolas 7. Civil Rights —
Prisoners 8. Civil Rights — Juvenile Delinquency 10. Civil Rights — Fishermen
11. Brazil I. United Nations
3
SUMMARY
Introductions............................................................................................................... 7
Minister-Chief of the Secretariat of Human Rights of the Presidency, Mrs. Maria do
Rosário Nunes.............................................................................................................. 8
Ambassador of the Netherlands in Brazil, Mr. Kees Rade....................................... 10
UN Resident Coordinator in Brazil, Mr. Jorge Chediek............................................................... 12
Ambassador, Head of Delegation of the European Union,
Mrs. Ana Paula Zacarias...................................................................................................13
The UN and protection of human rights defenders......................................................... 14
Brazil and the protection of defenders of human rights.............................................. 16
Ten faces of the struggle for human rights in Brazil........................................................ 19
• Alexandre Anderson de Souza...........................................................................20
• Eliseu Lopes.............................................................................................................26
• Evane Lopes.............................................................................................................30
• Gleydson Gleber Bento Alves de Lima Pinheiro.............................................. 36
• João Luís Joventino do Nascimento.............................................................. 42
• Júlio César Ferraz de Souza ........................................................................... 50
• Leonora Brunetto.......................................................................................56
• Maria Joel Dias........................................................................................................62
• Rosivaldo Ferreira Dias..........................................................................................68
• Saverio Paolillo............................................................................................74
4
Acknowledgements....................................................................................................82
5
INTRODUCTIONS
6
7
Dez faces
da luta
pelos
Direitos
Humanos
no Brasil
T
he Secretariat of Human Rights of the
Presidency (SDH/PR) is pleased to
present the book Ten faces of the struggle
for human rights in Brazil. This publication
is the result of a virtuous partnership with the
European Union, the Embassy of the Kingdom of
the Netherlands and the United Nations System
in Brazil.
The ten defenders featured in this publication, who tell us about their lives and work in
the promotion and defense of human rights, are
leaders giving a voice to many Brazilians who are
engaged in the struggle against arbitrariness,
violence, injustice and inequality. They represent
all the defenders included and monitored by the
National and State Programs for the Protection of Human Rights Defenders. This policy of
protection of persons represents the effort and
commitment of the Brazilian State with the full
achievement of these rights.
The adoption of the National Policy for the
Protection of Defenders of Human Rights, in
2007, through Decree 6044, by the then President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, and the continuity
of this action by President Dilma Rousseff, is a
decisive step in the consolidation of the Brazilian
democracy. And this democracy, as well as the
Rule of Law, is an essential achievement of men
and women who, in their turn, faced the most evil
forces, even paying with their own lives by daring
to be defenders of Human Rights.
Unfortunately, many of the threats to life and
physical integrity of these people persist in our
society, whether by action of agents of the State
or by private hands. It is our commitment to tackle the sources of these threats by inhibiting and
penalizing perpetrators of violations. But this is
also one of our biggest challenges. As well as securing that human rights defenders can continue
their daily struggle safely.
8
The Secretariat of Human Rights of the Presidency has been tirelessly seeking to overcome
the causes that generate situations of risk and
threat. Such action comprises a combination of
measures and actions with the Executive, Legislative and Judiciary, and with the organized civil
society.
In addition, the Secretariat of Human Rights
of the Presidency works to consolidate a policy
to protect human rights defenders by building a
protection system for people who are threatened.
Regulatory frameworks are being created to assure institutionalization and guarantee its permanence as part of the actions of the Brazilian State
for the protection of human rights.
Having no peer in other nations, the Program
for the Protection of Defenders of Human Rights
aims to expose the just struggles of each of
these people and their communities. In addition,
it aims to emphatically state that the fact that we
still have to deal with threats to people because
of their dedication to strengthen our democracy
and the consolidation of human rights is unacceptable.
Thus, this book aims to be another tool in this
quest for exposure. We also wish that it may influence and encourage other nations to protect
their citizens in the struggle against the loss of
rights currently in place and/or in the pursuit of
affirmation of rights not yet recognized in their
legislation.
Finally, I stress once again the importance
of joint efforts of the State, civil society, human
rights defenders and every citizen to the consolidation of the Brazilian State as a strong nation
where human rights of all people are the pillars
of our democratic environment.
Maria do Rosário Nunes
Minister of State, Chief of the Secretariat of
Human Rights of the Presidency
9
INTRODUCTIONS
T
he Embassy of the Kingdom of the
Netherlands in Brazil has the honor
to present the stories of Júlio, Evane,
Rosivaldo, Eliseu, Maria Joel, Gleydson, João
Luís, Alexandre, Saverio and Leonora. These
human rights defenders play essential roles in
the protection of fundamental freedoms in Brazil
and in mobilizing people, aimed at achieving
improvements in the interest of society as a
whole. The courage they show every day in their
lives calls for our respect and practical support.
That is why the Dutch human rights policy has as
a priority to promote the work of these men and
women.
The Netherlands will do its utmost to highlight
the efforts of human rights defenders around the
world, promoting their work to the public. The
Dutch Ministry of Foreign Affairs provides funding
to projects developed by NGOs to support human
rights defenders by improving their skills, helping
in joint work with the United Nations, reinforcing
their safety, and even giving them shelter, should
they find themselves under threat. We are proud
of the fact that in 2013 the Municipality of Haia
will operate as a Shelter Town, where, for the first
time, four human rights defenders will stay for a
period of three months, where they will be able
to rest while participating in a training program
and attending meetings with leading figures in
human rights.
10
This publication, which is part of the implementation of this policy in Brazil, features interviews with ten Brazilian human rights defenders.
All these interviews are exceptional; even extraordinary. Publication is a way to appreciate
these people and the solid work they do; it allows
us to make their struggles public, emphasizing
the courage they show every day in their lives
and in their efforts to improve human rights to
society as a whole.
In this sense, the Special Secretariat for Human Rights of the Presidency is deserving of
our appreciation and support, given that, for the
last fifteen years, it has been working tirelessly
to implement, promote and ensure citizenship
rights in this continentally-sized country where,
depending on the place, human rights are still
faced with a number of challenges. In certain
areas, however, important improvements have
been achieved. The protection provided to human rights defenders is just one example of
that commitment. We are very happy to take this
chance to tell the stories of these human rights
defenders and emphasize the importance of the
role they play.
Fortunately, the Netherlands share with the
European Union and Brazil a consensus on the
preeminence of the work of human rights defenders. The European Union’s human rights policies are a strategic tool for the implementation
of the Dutch policy on the matter. Our goal is to
cooperate as much as possible with the Brazilian
authorities, the European Union and its Member
States and with entities of the United Nations
System to assist in the activities of human rights
defenders. Through this publication, we are putting this strategy into practice.
We hope readers can take advantage of the
informational interviews and documentation that
make up this publication and that, having acquired a better understanding of the struggle of
these brave women and men, find ways to help
them in their fight.
Kees Rade
Ambassador of the Netherlands in Brazil
11
INTRODUCTIONS
W
e had the pleasure to be invited by
the Embassy of the Kingdom of the
Netherlands to join efforts in preparing
the publication Ten faces of the struggle for
Human Rights in Brazil, together with the
Secretariat of Human Rights of the Presidency
and the Delegation of the European Union in
Brazil. This work was prepared with the purpose
of highlighting and supporting the valuable
work carried out by human rights defenders
in Brazil. Names often unknown nationally and
internationally, but whose stories need to be
heard for the inspirational power they carry in
their struggles and life paths.
The theme of the celebrations of 2012 Human
Rights Day was people’s right to be heard publicly
and to be included in the policy-making decision
process - whether women, youth, minorities,
people with disabilities, indigenous peoples, the
poor or outcasts. This publication is an attempt
to contribute to this mission, echoing voices able
to foster the construction of a society and world
increasingly fair and safe for all those who want
and need access to their rights.
Protecting the defenders and supporting them
in their work should be the central aspect of the
States’ strategies on human rights. Support for
human rights defenders is also characterized
as an aspect of international cooperation in
12
all spheres in the context of development,
democratization and similar processes.
The Declaration on Human Rights Defenders
(1998) states that everyone has a responsibility
regarding the promotion and protection of human
rights. This is the major contribution of the work:
bringing awareness on the issue to an even larger
number of people, so that they will also become
human rights defenders, in their own way.
Brazil has advanced greatly for over a decade,
particularly with the work of the Secretariat
of Human Rights of the Presidency. However,
this continentally-sized country, which has a
wide range of ethnic and cultural diversity, still
faces considerable obstacles in this struggle.
In this regard, the joint work and partnerships
established for the promotion of human rights
represent an undeniable contribution towards the
consolidation of this path.
T
he human rights defenders are the
highest expression of the struggle for
the promotion and protection of human
rights and fundamental freedoms, a struggle
fought mainly in silence. The Delegation of the
European Union is very proud to support this
publication, which celebrates the excellent work
done by ten Brazilian defenders.
Support to human rights defenders is a longstanding element of the European Union policy
on human rights. In the context of the European Union Guidelines for Human Rights Defenders, the European Union Delegation for Brazil
supports the Secretariat of Human Rights in its
activities to prepare the National Plan for the
Protection of Human Rights Defenders. We work
together with the Member States represented in
Brazil and we are involved with the Brazilian Government and with the civil society in a rich, open
and constructive discussion to better safeguard
human rights defenders.
So, it doesn’t matter how long and how
difficult the journey may be. What matters is that
we do our best for justice to always prevail and
so that everyone can enjoy the rights and dignity
they deserve.
I would like to congratulate the Embassy of
the Netherlands in Brazil, the United Nations System and the Secretariat of Human Rights of the
Presidency for this insightful initiative, which is
also a good representation of our joint efforts to
protect human rights.
Jorge Chediek
UN Resident Coordinator in Brazil
Ana Paula Zacarias
Ambassador, Head of the Delegation of the European Union in Brazil
13
Dez faces
da luta
pelos
Direitos
Humanos
no Brasil
The UN and the
protection of
defenders of
human rights
T
he term human rights is very well known
and widespread. It is widely adopted
around the world with the advent of the
Universal Declaration of Human Rights of the
United Nations on December 10, 1948. That
was the first time that the rights that should be
guaranteed to all human beings were globally
discussed. The date is celebrated each year as
the International Human Rights Day.
Since then, around the world, millions of
people have been working to promote and
protect human rights. They are called Human
Rights Defenders. Generally, they are people
who, individually or in groups, work to safeguard
in practice the principles advocated by the
Universal Declaration.
The defenders work mainly by collecting and
disseminating information, doing advocacy and
mobilizing public opinion about rights violations,
as well as offering help and support to those who
had their human rights violated.
This work can be done in several areas:
education, summary executions, and conflict
over land, environment, discrimination, genital
mutilation, and access to health care, labor
issues, among many others.
Note that, according to the UN High
Commissioner for Human Rights, a defender of
rights needs not be recognized as such. Their
role does not require professional qualifications,
14
but rather consideration for other human beings
and the notion that everyone is entitled to the full
set of human rights. In fact, part of their role is a
desire to see that ideal become reality.
of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.
It recognizes human rights’ defense as a right
in itself, and recognizes people who do so as
human rights defenders.
Around the world, a good portion of these
human rights defenders were and still are subject
to violation of their own rights. They are the
targets of executions, torture, arbitrary arrests,
death threats, harassment, and defamation,
restriction to their freedom to come and go and
to their freedom of speech.
Despite having no binding power, the
declaration contains a number of principles and
rights based on other international instruments
which are binding by law. Also, it was adopted
by consensus by the General Assembly, and
therefore represents a strong commitment of the
Member States for its implementation.
These violations were the main motivation
for the creation of the Declaration on the Right
and Responsibility of Individuals, Groups and
Agencies to Promote and Protect Universally
Recognized Human Rights and Fundamental
Freedoms, commonly known as the Declaration
on Human Rights Defenders, December 9, 1998.
The declaration provides for support from the
State to the activities of human rights defenders.
It also outlines some specific duties of the States
and the responsibilities of each individual in
relation to the defense of human rights.
The United Nations consider that the
implementation of international standards of
human rights in their Member States depends
largely on the contribution of individuals
and groups defending human rights. Where
governments, states, national laws, police, the
judiciary and the State fail to provide adequate
protection to human rights, the defenders end up
being the last ones to have their rights protected.
Thus, they require special protection.
The idea is that defenders, the State and
individuals can work together to guarantee the
physical and psychological safety of those who
work defending human rights, and can work
more and more to secure universal rights to any
person.
The Declaration on Human Rights Defenders
was enacted in 1998, on the 50th anniversary
15
Dez faces
da luta
pelos
Direitos
Humanos
no Brasil
Brazil and the
protection of
defenders of
human rights
B
razil has been a pioneer in the
implementation of the UN guidelines
stated in the Declaration on the Rights
and Responsibilities of Individuals, Groups and
Institutions to Promote and Protect Universally
Recognized Human Rights and Fundamental
Freedoms, or the Declaration on Human Rights
Defenders.
Brazil was the only country to implement
in 2004 a Program to Protect Human Rights
Defenders run by the government. Related to the
Secretariat of Human Rights of the Presidency,
it recognizes how important defenders are for
securing rights, and adopts, and articulates
measures to protect people who work in the
promotion and protection of rights and who are
under threat as a result of their work.
In
2007, another major breakthrough came with
the introduction of the National Policy for the
Protection of Human Rights Defenders.
The program seeks to focus on overcoming
the causes that generate risk and threat. To
achieve this goal, it operates on putting together
measures and actions with the Executive,
Legislative and Judiciary and with the organized
civil society. Currently, it is present in eight
Brazilian states: Bahia, Minas Gerais, Espírito
Santo, Pernambuco, Pará, Rio de Janeiro, Rio
Grande do Sul, and Ceará.
16
Defenders are assisted by state technical
teams, where state programs are available,
or by the federal technical team, in the states
where the program is not available. Through
this assistance, they are monitored from the time
they apply to the time they are discharged. They
are constantly monitored, and the risk and threat
they find themselves in are continually assessed.
The program offers periodic visits to the places
where the defenders work, psychosocial care,
monitoring of investigations and complaints, and
dialogues with the agencies responsible for the
implementation of protective measures.
The request for admission to the program
can be made by the defenders themselves or
by rights networks, entities and organizations of
the civil society, Prosecution Office or any other
public agency that becomes aware of the threat
or violation to which the person is exposed. The
inclusion of the defender will take into account
how serious the violation or threat is and the
difficulty of preventing or suppressing them by
conventional mechanisms of public safety. Some
criteria are observed, such as:
A role in protecting and promoting human
rights - it must be evidenced that the applicant
works as a defender of human rights;
Causal relation - the violation or threat
suffered by the applicant must result from his/her
role in protecting and promoting human rights;
the State Programs. These are deliberative bodies
that aim to discuss the policy and strategies for
the protection of human rights defenders, decide
on applications for admittance and discharge, as
well as protective measures to be adopted and
articulated with the relevant agencies.
The protective measures of the Program
to Protect Human Rights Defenders include
dialogues with public and private agencies
and entities, aimed at resolving conflicts and
overcoming the causes that generate threats;
with the agencies of the justice system of
the States and of the Federal Government for
legal defense and support in the monitoring of
violations; with public safety agencies of the
states aimed at ensuring the safety of human
rights defenders and investigation of violations;
psychosocial measures; actions to enable the
recognition of the role of human rights defenders
in the society, and, exceptionally, temporary
removal of defenders from their site of action in
cases of serious threat or imminent risk.
Compliance with the rules - the applicant
must accept the terms and conditions of the
Program.
Each Program has a National Coordination for
the Federal Program and a State Coordination for
17
Ten faces
of the struggle
for human rights
in Brazil
T
en people, ten life stories and a common
denominator: extraordinary strength to
exercise their citizenship and fight for
human rights.
The interviews below seek to give a voice to
ten Brazilian defenders, selected by the Program
for the Protection of Human Rights Defenders
of the Secretariat of Human Rights of the
Presidency, who work in different areas: right to
land, to life, to appropriate non-violent treatment,
to the environment, to the maintenance of
traditional, indigenous, Quilombolas and
fishermen communities.
The interviews show the work of these ten
defenders, the difficulties and the collective gains
from their actions and the human side of the
struggle, which unfortunately generates losses,
fears and frustrations. They are extraordinary
people who remain and continue fighting for
a fairer country, where universal rights can be
enjoyed by the entire population.
This publication is intended as a tribute to
those citizens and thus to all of those who defend
human rights.
18
19
Alexandre Anderson de Souza
“Fighting I found my peace”
S
ince 2003, the fisherman Alexandre
Anderson de Souza has been engaging
in a battle in favor of the Guanabara
Bay, in Rio de Janeiro, and of artisanal fishing
communities living from what the bay has to
offer, despite the construction of petrochemical
developments affecting local environment.
Since then, his life’s main goal has become the
defense of decent living conditions for thousands
of fishermen, putting that goal before even his
personal matters. Even under threat and having
witnessed the loss of some of his peers, he finds
it hard to make plans for the future that are not
associated with this goal.
Alexandre is the founder and president
of the Seamen Association of Rio de Janeiro
(AHOMAR). He established a fishing union in the
state and dreams of creating the first national
confederation of artisanal fishermen in the
country. Supported by organizations, he has been
promoting the issue in Brazil and in the world and
has been working together with technicians and
universities to scientifically prove the damage
that has been done and the impact that these
developments could cause if not stopped.
20
At age 42, Alexandre wants to expand his
actions. He has recently become a member of
the national board for the National Movement for
the Regularization of Fishing Territories and will
also work in the South of the country.
How and why was AHOMAR created?
Its origin dates back to 2003, when the
Seamen Group of ​​Guanabara Bay was created,
bringing together fishermen leaders from Magé,
on the suburbs of Rio de Janeiro. At the time, in
2000, one of the largest environmental disasters
had just happened in Brazil: the spill of nearly 350
thousand gallons of oil in Guanabara Bay. That
caused extensive damages to the environment.
After this accident, we believed that they
would let the bay rest for a while. But a year
later, they started building a new pipeline at sea,
hindering fishing. I presented the idea to create a
group to fight against this kind of venture. I didn’t
even want to be the leader of this group; I didn’t
think of myself as a leader, but the fishermen
had I convinced. They thought I was a bit more
articulate than them, as fishing has not always
been how I made a living.
Why become a fisherman?
My late father was a civil engineer, my
mother a housewife and my sisters a lawyer
and an engineer. I studied through high school
and worked for a Uruguayan company and
then to a Russian company which provided
customs-related services. The latter closed their
headquarters in Brazil and asked me to come
to Russia, but I preferred to stay with my family.
My brother-in-law was a fisherman by then, so I
decided to follow that path. I bought a boat with
the money from my severance pay. And that’s
when I started to see that the “caiçaras” (T. N.: a
derogatory designation of people living by coastal
area, mostly in South and Southeast regions), the
original fishermen were being smashed. That is
when I came up with the idea to create a group.
People can’t do much alone.
When did the group become an
association?
In 2007, the group became AHOMAR. We
needed an official structure to be able to issue
notifications, make formal representations,
and request documents. At that point, we
were working inside licensing agencies and
oil companies that were established over the
Guanabara Bay. We questioned why our fishing
activity was being hindered, while no alternatives
were being offered to us.
Nowadays, AHOMAR has nearly two thousand
members in seven towns in the bay. However, we
represent over 4600 fishermen, because the law
says that no one is required to join, but we can
represent non-members if they give us permission.
Our actions included the “seguro defeso”
(allowance granted when fishing is forbidden,
i.e., during spawning and reproduction period of
fishes) for artisanal fishermen, maternity-leave
benefit for fisherwomen, and some retirement
actions that benefit all fishermen rather than just
members.
We also created a fishermen union involving
13 regions of Rio de Janeiro. This is a strategic
move, as this type of organization becomes
representative and gains visibility and voice
anywhere. Although our license has not been
issued yet, we are currently acting as a union.
By doing that, we continue fighting against the
presence of petrochemical ventures in Guanabara
Bay, protesting, denouncing and exposing to the
problem. Besides pipelines, tankers and tugs,
which destroy our fishing space, they now want
to make industrial use of Guaxindiba river, located
in an Area of ​​Environmental Protection, which will
cause major damage to the environment.
What is the environmental and social
impact of this presence?
Since 2003, we started to realize that our area
of ​​marine activity was being taken away, without
notice, without public hearing. There were ships,
duct laying, tugs, and the community was just
not being heard. We found that, right after the
spill of 2000, there was a large decrease in fish
21
availability. Guanabara Bay has an extractionbased practice. You can’t start fish hatcheries,
because of the changes in water wholesomeness.
In 2010, we started making a participatory map,
with the help of the Federal University of Rio de
Janeiro, to find the differences across fisheries
and the quantity of fish caught between 1990
and 2000. We visited 28 communities and put
together a magazine and a map - fishermen
have a very powerful sense of location. There
were no doubts there: we are fishing 80% less,
as compared to the late 90’s.
The cause is impoverishment. And that
causes a major impact in the life of fishermen.
The migration some areas are undergoing
creates two problems: the end of fishing villages
and their surroundings (schools, businesses,
culture), and pressure and overfishing across
other fishing communities to which they migrate.
Also, we identified suicides, alcoholism and a
major risk to the children of fishermen. There
used to be a natural logic that a fisherman’s son
would become a fisherman too. However, with no
fish and no money, they can easily be allured to
traffic.
There is an important historical question there
too. The fisherman is the heart of that entire
region; when that heart is run over or destroyed,
the whole body dies. Guanabara Bay is dying and
so are her children, the fishermen. This will also
generate a social problem for residents who are
not at places directly related to the community.
There will be ghost towns, increased criminality,
logistics problems - where will fishermen and
their children go to? It will always put a strain
on society.
22
Also, you can say that the Guanabara Bay is
a time bomb. There are ships with tons of gases
next to fuel and ammunition stocked in military
barracks. There could be leakages, accidents
and explosions that would put the entire region
at risk.
What do fishermen claim in their
struggle?
We actually never sought indemnification. No
company can ever say we went to them for money.
We held many meetings, and the fishermen
always said they wanted no money. They don’t
want to quit fishing; they want to make their living
just like their great-grandfathers, grandfathers
and fathers did: through fishing, with dignity
and contact with nature. Artisanal fishing has a
very strong relationship with the place of fishing
and residence. We live by the riverside or by the
seaside, where our boats are, and we fish where
our home is. We know everything about the area.
That is what makes us artisanal fishermen. And
it couldn’t be different; otherwise we would be
industrial fishermen.
We want recognition of our rights to do
what we’ve always done. If they can’t take out
of the Guanabara Bay what they’ve already
implemented there, then at least they shouldn’t
build anything else there, so the situation does
not get any worse. The refineries terminals that
are there can stay until they run out, but they
should leave the rest to us, and maybe we can
survive and perpetuate fishing there for another
hundred years.
If they go any further, we will be left out. A
decent option must be given to the fishermen of
Guanabara Bay.
Is this situation repeated in fishing
communities throughout Brazil?
Yes. The situation is similar. We are losing
our way of life to large enterprises that come here
to get richer and enhance capital. The presence
of a wind power plant, a shrimp farm, a mining
company or a major oil company rarely means
local, social or environmental development for
the surrounding traditional communities. Social
responsibility is in the law, but it is not applied.
In fact, traditional communities, whether
fishermen, Quilombolas (T. N.: residents of
Quilombos, i.e., during slavery time, it was a
hiding-place of fugitive Negro slaves in Brazil) or
indigenous, are seen as a thorn in the side. In our
case, we can see that Guanabara Bay is being
taken over by large enterprises, except that they
had no success in taking us away from here at
once. They are getting rid of us little by little, also
by playing mind games.
Do you mean violence and threats?
Yes. Some comrades were murdered, they
were all my friends, and that gets to us too.
My wife and I live constantly under risk and
under death threats. And that certainly affects my
personal life. I had to stop fishing because it was
not safe anymore. They started killing people at
sea. To get an idea, I had to sell three outboard
engines, two boats and a motorboat that I bought
with money from fishing. Today, I make a living
by working as a forwarding agent, but I also rely
on help from neighbors, business owners and
friends to help us pay some bills.
What they don’t understand is that with more
free time in my hands, with the slowdown in
fishing because of the risks, my activism has
become even stronger. I can give more visibility
to the problem, especially internationally.
Are you afraid?
Living under threat is living aware that you
can get killed at any moment. But I’m no longer
afraid to die; I live one day at a time. I appreciate
life every day I wake up, because maybe one day
I won’t wake up anymore. It is a reality that I have
to come to terms with; I’ve been assaulted six
times and saw four of my peers die. People say
I’m always on the fast lane, but that’s because
I’m afraid I won’t be alive tomorrow to fight. I’m
trying to teach my wife to take my place and
others to work.
AHOMAR’s cause gets strong
international support and visibility. How
does that work?
Visibility is another facet of the struggle, and
that’s interesting because it shows a problem.
The Brazilian media places a curtain over
the issue preventing it from being seen. The
mainstream media will only come to Magé when
people die. However, we are constantly followed
by international media, such as the Washington
Post, Al Jazeera and L’Express.
In addition to this support from the
international media, we have organizations that
help us a lot. Oil Watch and Frontline help us
travel and subsidize the purchase of materials for
the association. They put us on the international
map of the fishermen struggle. I’ve had the
chance to talk about the issue in Switzerland,
France, Colombia and Ecuador.
These organizations have tried to get me out
of the country because of the threats, but neither
I nor my wife wanted to leave the struggle.
This international visibility also helps other
23
groups. We are currently engaged in bilateral
actions with the Maori in New Zealand. Fishing
in the tribe has been affected by the construction
of petrochemical enterprises, and the consul of
a town in the Western part of the island came
to us. They wanted to learn from us how boating
protests are organized in Rio, and we are helping
them fight against the petrochemical enterprises.
In Brazil, we have a lot of support from the
human rights commission of the Legislative
Assembly of Rio de Janeiro - which does a very
good job, and from the state’s public defender’s
office of human rights, which supports me in
criminal hearings. I am currently not being sued,
but they have tried to criminally sue me for
twelve times. I was acquitted every time. Neither
AHOMAR nor the union are currently being sued.
Do you miss fishing?
Yes, I want to go back to fishing, even knowing
the risks. I need to support my family. I find myself
in hardship and I know the least amount I need
to provide for my family. The odd jobs I take are
nowhere near enough. I’m sure I’ll feel happier
when I get back to fishing.
Besides going back to fishing, what
are your plans for the future?
We are planning two campaigns. One is for
the territory of traditional fishing communities
in Brazil. We will use our experience with the
participatory map of Guanabara Bay and then
move on to other Brazilian territories where
fishing communities are being threatened by
large enterprises. Another initiative is the creation
of a zone free of oil companies in the bay. But
nothing about taking the law into our own hands.
We’ll signal all fishing areas to protect what we
24
have left. The spots will be marked through
participatory mapping; first signaling with buoys,
and then with the permission of some instances,
we’ll put up signs reading: “Keep out. Fishing
area”. In addition, we will change the name of the
association to Association of Men and Women of
the Sea of Rio de Janeiro, in early 2013.
How about on a personal level?
I have no personal ambition; I’ve had a lot,
but not now. All my personal plans lead to the
struggle. I want to go to law school and help
fuel the struggle, and my wife wants to study
environmental management for the same
purpose. We were given scholarships. But I want
to keep on going as an activist, I want to make my
union successful, and maybe even found the first
national confederation of artisanal fishermen.
I’m very proud of what we fight for and of
being a fisherman. I look at men, in their wrinkled
skin and hair as white as a sheep, their strong
hands and heart beating strong in their chest,
fishing, and I see myself in them. I envy them, I
wish I was in their position, but somehow I can
feel a bit of that energy, and I feel like a “caiçara”.
In fishing and in our struggle I was able to
find my peace. I used to think too much of myself
and in my own future, maybe of my family’s. But
life is not limited to that. What good is it to live a
lifetime if I cannot do anything for the world I’m
living in? Should I have to choose between living
for nothing and dying for something, I’d choose
dying for something.
25
ELISEU LOPES
“We are not violent, and yet we’re still
dying”
T
he Guarani-Kaiowá Eliseu Lopes, 37,
first became involved with indigenous
issues in 2003, when he became a
teacher in Taquapiri settlement in the Brazilian
state of Mato Grosso do Sul. He has been a
spokesman for the Aty Guasu Movement since
2007, bringing together the Guarani-Kaiowá,
and he’s been active in the struggle for the
recovery of land that historically belonged to his
ancestors, the Kurusu Amba, and in supporting
leaders in the other 35 indigenous campgrounds
in the state.
Currently, the defender is working in Brasília,
as a coordinator of Indigenous Peoples’ Affairs in
Brazil, dealing with indigenous issues throughout
the country. But he remains a member of
the Aty Guasu Movement and represents the
communities of Mato Grosso do Sul in the federal
capital. And he plans to go back to his land soon.
How did you become the indigenous
leader for the Guarani-Kaiowá of Kurusu
Amba?
My struggle began with indigenous education
in 2003. Because I could speak Portuguese
and Guarani, and because I learned from the
elders, I decided to teach classes to children in
the settlement of Taquapiri. I started attending
teachers’ committees and to make every effort to
26
bring differentiated education to our community.
When
I speak of differentiated education; I mean
education that will pass on our traditions and
our culture to future generations. When I went
to school, teachers were non-indigenous; they
came from other states and couldn’t speak
Guarani. This rescue of indigenous tradition is
something the indigenous people achieved in
their mobilization.
We want education to also address our
history of struggles and explain to the children
the situation that the Guarani-Kaiowá are living
in Mato Grosso do Sul. They need to know that
this fight is a result of suffering that has been
imposed on us for over five hundred years. That
is why I started to engage and fight for some
things in the settlement where I worked for four
years.
How did you start to work for the
defense of the rights to land of the
Guarani-Kaiowá?
Along with my work as a teacher and my
participation in the committee of indigenous
teachers in the state, I also started to research
and try to find historical documents that proved
that the Kurusu Amba land belonged to the
indigenous people. That’s because a number of
families were living in the settlement of Taquapiri,
mine included, only because they had been
evicted from their own land in the past, some fifty
years ago. These lands were turned into farms.
With these documents and evidence, and
together with other leaders, as of 2007 these
families returned to occupy the land that was
theirs. Despite the eviction, we never put aside
the feeling that this land was ours. We have a
very strong connection with the place, for the
indigenous people land is a very significant issue.
We feel spiritually free, we feel free to exert our
culture. Contact with nature is also important
because, when we moved to another settlement,
Taquapiri, we overpopulated the place, and the
land was just not enough for so many people.
I was witnessing the death of many leaders.
My relatives and family by blood were suffering.
We ended up camping by a federal highway,
waiting for a demarcation of land that just never
happened. Then I too joined in the fight. That
year, the Aty Guasu movement called me to be
their spokesman.
What is the situation currently like in
Kurusu Amba?
Not only there, but throughout Mato Grosso
do Sul, the indigenous people are occupying
their land, taking over old farms that are actually
indigenous land, as proven by reports. There are
36 campgrounds in total. The farmers and the
media spread rumors that once the demarcation
was issued, we would take over the whole state
of Mato Grosso do Sul.
But that is a lie they are saying. Occupancy
actions, road blocking, and barriers are some
of the means we use to call the government’s
attention to our situation.
Because of these actions, we have been
suffering a lot of violence, threats, and many
of our leaders have been killed. The GuaraniKaiowá are not of a violent nature. That is not part
of our learning and our traditions. If we were,
we would have killed many farmers, but that
never happened. We never resource to violence,
and yet we are suffering violence, assaults and
murders. We want no blood shedding.
Specifically for my settlement, today we are
seventy families camped in a 500 hectares area,
without any services or decent infrastructure.
We rely on receiving basic food basket aids from
the government, but they not always come, and
we have no education or health care. So, the
situation gets very difficult for the families, and
especially for the children. In 2010 alone, four
children died from malnutrition, for example.
27
Dez faces
da luta
pelos
Direitos
Humanos
no Brasil
Although violence against the
Guarani-Kaiowá are still the focal point
of the situation in the region, are there
any factors that can be considered as
achievements of your leaders and of the
Aty Guasu movement as a whole?
We managed to get the indigenous peoples to
organize in their core. The leadership multiplied.
Also, other groups have joined in. Now, the
Aty Guasu movement has ramifications for the
youths, women, prayers and teachers. At least
twice a year, the movement brings together all
participants to discuss not only the repossession
of our land, but also health care, education and
politics. Therefore, in general, the movement has
been gaining strength through the struggle. They
all say: “No more blood shedding”. Things just
can’t go on like that.
Another important achievement was our
mobilization for the murderers of Chieftain Nísio
Gomes to go to jail. Nísio was not only my friend
but also one of the main leaders of the GuaraniKaiowá. He was killed in an attack in November
2011, after leading the occupation of the Guayviry
campground, near the border with Paraguay. He
would always say that “the land belongs to us,
to our grandparents, to our parents”. He always
said he would come back. He came back and
died.
28
After his death, we went public about the
attack, to show the country what the GuaraniKaiowá are going through. We quickly went to the
crime scene, took pictures and showed the blood
that was shed. We sent that to the media. Then
the leaders and others organized demonstrations
against the attack. We closed down roads and
walked to show the authorities that the GuaraniKaiowá are not alone, that all settlements are
interconnected, and that we are strong.
Articulations and mobilizations continued
throughout 2012 and we got the Federal Police
to investigate, and then arrest the murderers of
Nísio, although his body was never found. At least
now we showed that justice will come through.
Before that farmers had no reservations, as they
knew they wouldn’t face any punishment. They
would let everyone know that they would shed
more blood. Maybe now they’ll see that they will
face consequences.
How do you assess the media work in
relation to indigenous issues?
There are two sides. The media has an
important role as it can show the world our
reality, what we are going through, what the
community and the children are suffering, how
we are being attacked, and the reason why this is
happening. Especially because many people just
don’t know the situation of indigenous peoples in
the country, not only the Guarani-Kaiowá’s. They
don’t understand our cultural differences; they
don’t see us as human beings.
On the other hand, we are often discriminated
against by the media. The local media is especially
against the indigenous people; they publish
untruths, and try to hinder our mobilization.
Lately we are getting more space in the media
as a whole. The matter of Nísio’s death is an
example of that. Now we have some people who
know how to deal with that. They are prepared to
deal with the media. The internet also helps a lot,
because many base sites the media just can’t
reach, or the only media available is that against
us. We are there taking pictures, showing the
reality of the situation and using the pages and
e-mails from our network of partner organizations
to spread our version of the events, and that is
ultimately noticed by the traditional media.
Investments in education and healthcare are also
required in those regions.
What has stricken you the most
during your work?
Without these things, we risk repeating the
situation of the indigenous reserve of Dourados:
overpopulation lacking decent living conditions
which led to violence, drug dealing, alcoholism
and children dying of malnutrition. With support
and incentive policies, we can prevent other
indigenous lands from becoming a “new
Dourados”.
First of all, the resistance strength of the
Guarani-Kaiowá, even when faced with the
suffering of their children, their women crying
under attack and threats when they were
helpless. Even with persecutions, with our lack of
means, we won’t quit fighting. We are pursuing
our rights. In any fight, in any movement, we
always keep faith, the hope that we will achieve
our goals. That is the teaching that we receive.
And that makes me stronger to keep fighting.
Something else that stroke me, but on the
downside, is how long it’s taking to have the
issue in Mato Grosso do Sul sorted. That makes
things harder for us, for the people who are
there. Life becomes difficult, thus leading to
more persecutions and deaths. So we need to
have that matter solved. At least those areas that
are being repossessed need to be demarcated.
Even if the area is not extensive, but at least they
will be on a piece of land that they know they own
and that they want back.
You mentioned that the movement
claims and discusses issues other than
land. What are they?
When they demarcate our lands, we’ll
especially need a lot of support for production,
because there’s no use in owning land without
support to work the land. The land that the
Guarani-Kaiowá are claiming is highly degraded
as it is. There’s no more forest and no more fish.
And we have a great deal of work ahead of us
to recover the land, and make a living out of it.
Did you feel your life was under threat
when you used to work at the base?
Yes. Since 2007, I couldn’t stay long in
one place, in one settlement, during the time I
worked at the base. If I spent the month in one
village, the next month I had to move to another.
That had an influence on my separation. I don’t
have a place to stay quiet with my family. It’s a
difficult situation. We are afraid because we have
nowhere to run. So, we have to face this life. We
have no other choice. We must go after what is
ours.
Now I’m living in Brasília, working on a
national level, but it is a temporary situation. I
will go back one day because my home is there.
I belong to those lands.
29
EVANE LOPES
“We are still living as society’s outcasts waiting for crumbs”
A
t 36, Evane Lopes staged a series of
actions in favor of the “quilombola”
community of São Domingos and four
other communities in the region of Paracatu,
a town in the northwest of the state of Minas
Gerais, where mining and large landed estates
have an influential role in municipalities’ policies.
Her power of leadership and coordination, as
well as her determination to confront both
non-governmental organizations and powerful
companies in the region, yielded benefits.
As the president of the Quilombola São
Domingos Association, a contributor to the
northwest region of the Quilombola Federation
of Minas Gerais and an active member of the
CONAQ (National Coordination of Articulation
of Quilombolas Rural Black Communities), she
managed to secure basic rights for the quilombola
people, demand indemnity for damages from
a large company operating there and take the
five communities in the region to talk to the
Presidency of Brazil. She has also emerged as an
advocate of rights: in September 2012, she was
selected to serve on the National Civil Society
Advisory Group for UN Women.
30
Married since she was 17, and with three
daughters, in 2012 Evane was threatened with
death because of her work. But stopping doesn’t
even cross her mind. In addition to all her activism,
the advocate goes to law school in Paracatu so
that her actions can be even stronger against the
injustice committed everyday against traditional
populations in the name of money and power.
How did your relationship with the
Quilombola communities come to be?
I was born and raised in the quilombola
community of São Domingos. I belong to one
of the families that originated the Quilombo. My
great-grandmother was actually a slave, and
since I was a child I have been surrounded by
stories of enslaved blacks in Brazil, told by elders.
Because they are the source of all the wisdom
available. When I was 10 years old, I started
collecting stories from people in the community,
because my dream was to write a book about
it. To this day I have the notebook where I wrote
those stories down. I fell in love with listening
to the elders and understanding the past of our
community and learning about our origins.
Over time, however, I started to realize that
the ancient wisdom was being cut short because
people started to get hold of the land of our
community. I saw how hard my uncle and my
grandfather fought to defend a territory that
was ours. I can’t stress enough that we never
used weapons - just words and sometimes our
physical strength. The once open community, by
the mid-1980s had to be barbed-wired to stop
trespassing because of mining in the community.
Initially, it was a traditional mining performed by
the black people, but then it started to attract
others. I grew up in the midst of all this and,
somehow, these issues get stored in our mind.
Was that invasion the reason why
you started to work for the defense of
the rights of the community?
That was the basis. As a child I wanted to do
something to change the situation. But we owe
respect to our elders and there was nothing I could
do. I got married in 1993 and started working
for the church in the community. In this role,
my biggest concern was to recover our ancient
traditions and prayers that were getting lost. We
prayed at the foot of the genipap tree, where our
ancestors were buried. I tried to play a role as an
educator in the community to preserve the rituals
and spell casting we did under the cedar tree,
which in no way went against Catholicism. I tried
to raise awareness about it.
Even before working as a member of the São
Domingos Quilombola Association, I worked as
a teacher at the community school for six years.
And that was one of my first fights. I found a
school that served the communities in the region,
but the school was about to close down, had just
a few students and was not preserving traditions.
And at that time I wasn’t even aware of the issues
involving the quilombola community. I went to
the Department of Education of Paracatu, which
initially tried to develop a project with us. In 2002,
however, for political changes in the government,
I had to leave the school. That caused dropouts
in the community in the project I developed with
adults. There was hardly any early childhood
education anymore. In a quilombola community,
when the work is interrupted, there’s no use in
hiring teachers from outside. But I kept fighting
for the preservation of tradition on other fronts.
When did you start working with São
Domingos Quilombola Association?
In 2002, a process was in place to recognize
the community as remnant of Quilombos, and
an anthropologist was hired to research that. I
was invited to accompany him throughout the
process of creation of the association, which is
one of the basic requirements for the recognition
of ownership over the community’s land. At the
time, they asked me to be the president of the
association. But I thought it would be better
if an older person, with more tradition, took
the position. I became the first secretary and
accompanied the board on trips, seminars and
presentations of the community. We were taking
projects into the community as well.
31
I began to witness situations that didn’t go
well with me. In late 2004 I found out that funds
transferred by the federal government for the
implementation of projects in the community
were being used for other purposes. These funds
were not sent directly to the association because
other people managed them. I questioned
members of the board about it and they told me I
was asking too much about things that weren’t of
my concern. I learned from my grandfather that
the only thing we have to look after is our name.
I didn’t want to be involved in that in any way. I
resigned and stepped away from activities in the
community. They even tried to bribe me so I would
shut up, but of course I refused. I was defending
the interests of my community. At that time I felt
really alone. No one from the Association Board
gave me any support.
How did you face the problem?
I reported that to state authorities, but the
political side spoke louder, and nothing was ever
done. The last straw for me was in 2008, when
people came to me to inform against overcharging
in purchases for a project to be implemented in
the community. I was outraged and that year I
decided to take over the Association Board. I
managed to gather a group of people for that. The
command had not changed yet, despite being
required to, because no one wanted to take over.
As this group came together, the previous board
was undone.
32
One of my first actions was cancelling any
activity with the organizations that operated in the
community. That created pressure and conflicts.
The old board brought back the residents
association in order to keep old projects going.
That generated a clash in the community and
that is currently the main focus of the internal
conflict we have there.
What caused you to be nationally
recognized as an advocate for the rights
of Quilombola communities? When and
how that happened?
Initially, under the new leadership, the
Association started working with the mining
company that operates in São Domingos and
other Quilombola communities in Paracatu.
They had an obligation to fund some activities in
the community, in consideration of their mining
activity. In 2009, the Prosecution Office came to
us to question the veracity of documents justifying
such consideration. I had access to the file and
saw that they claimed to carry out actions that
were never implemented in the community. That
was really outrageous.
Then a public hearing was scheduled, with
the presence of several influential actors, such
as the Special Secretariat for Policies to Promote
Racial Equality, the Palmares Foundation and
INCRA (National Agrarian Reform Institute),
among others. I managed to get hold of a report
that was never released by the mining company.
The report showed that what they applied to their
policies was on the opposite side of what they
reported to the authorities. I presented that at the
meeting.
Initially the mining company assured us
that they would never remove the communities
from their land and that they respected the local
culture. However the document stated that our
area was located exactly on top of the mining
spot they needed, that our water was at risk of
contamination, the air we breathed was highly
contaminated, among others things. I mean,
they knew there were risks to the quilombola
population, but they never told us.
After the proceedings, the mining company
was forced to comply with the conditions set
for their activities in the region, which included
indemnifying the population for damages and
repairing homes that cracked after explosions.
That has not been done yet, but we hope that will
be sorted soon.
And how did that hearing boost your
work?
The report got people’s attention and from
that day on I started speaking not only for
São Domingos, but also for all the Quilombola
communities in the region. Since then, my
work and activism took off. I was invited by the
Quilombola Federation of Minas Gerais to work
as a coordinator for the communities of the
northwest of the state, and right after that I was
also invited to work as an active member of the
CONAQ, I attended seminars throughout Brazil
and explained the situation. In addition to that,
I was selected to join the National Civil Society
Advisory Group for the UN Women. That poor
girl who came from a Quilombo was now seen
differently.
I started attending meetings and initiating
dialogues with various agencies regarding the
general situation in the region, and I would hold
regular meetings with all communities. The idea
was also to prepare a diagnosis of what was
required to develop each one of them, but we
had no funds for that.
We also gave visibility to the region’s
communities. In April 2012, as a result of our
efforts, I managed to schedule an audience
with the Executive Secretariat of the Presidency,
which was attended by representatives of
the five communities of Paracatu. In June,
together with the Quilombola Federation of
Minas Gerais, I managed to get a bus to take
Quilombolas from the region to the conference
Rio+20. That resulted in the idea to create
the TV Quilombo on the internet, with videos
and programs produced by the community.
We are currently waiting for funding. We also
created the community blog:
<www.comunidadequilombolasaodomingos.
blogspot.com>.
Has that public activity generated any
backlash?
Yes. After the public hearing, they started to
threaten me morally and physically. They tried to
tarnish my image and reputation. In 2011, the
community dawned with the ground covered
in fliers accusing me of various things, saying I
was not to be trusted, calling me a thug. I then
asked for help and was included in the Protection
Program for Human Rights Defenders of Minas
Gerais.
In January 2012, my car was sabotaged twice
for two days in a row to cause accidents. These
sabotages were even proven by mechanics in a
statement to the police. Luckily on both occasions
Our Lady protected me and my family. And no
one got hurt.
Has your work slowed down after
that?
I will not lie: I was afraid for my family. They
are my treasure. My daughter even told me:
“Mom, I don’t wanna die at 12”. That breaks a
mother’s heart. But, despite of that, I have the
support of my family. I never thought them that
fighting for an ideal is something bad. A fight that
33
is self-centered is deprived of joy. You find flavor
when you fight for collective rights. You actually
don’t even realize what you’re doing. In my work,
I never intended to be the center of attention.
What has stricken you the most in your
visits to other Quilombola communities
in the state?
34
The Quilombola communities as a whole,
especially in Minas Gerais, are extremely
impoverished. São Domingo is an exception
because of its visibility resulted from being close
to the mining company. When I visited some
communities in the state, I could not believe the
situation was still so precarious. In one of the
quilombola communities, for example, which is
further away from the center of Paracatu, I found
an older lady in the community sleeping on a
wood board on top of four bricks. My husband
and I cried together when we say that situation.
The people there asked me for help, because
amazingly, despite being within the perimeter of
the city, the community had never been visited by
NGOs or government agencies. So I started doing
what I had done in São Domingos: I got a
In your view, what do Quilambola
communities need the most?
The first thing is recognition of their rights and
access to them. The communities must know
what is guaranteed to them by law. When I started
the work, I didn’t know all these rights. It was
from the lectures and seminars I attended that I
learned and took this knowledge to São Domingo
and to other communities in the region. But we
are lacking funds to ensure that everyone has
access to information and rights. Not everyone
has the opportunity and means to do that. I
myself had to go to Brasília hitchhiking with truck
drivers for lack of money. But I had to go because
that was important for the community.
Another important point concerns the
effectiveness of public policies for the Quilombolas.
On paper, everything is beautiful. The problem
is that the implementation of these policies is
done through projects, through agreements with
companies and non-governmental organizations
selected by competitive bidding. Most often, the
institutions contemplated in these competitive
biddings will work without the slightest
knowledge of the reality of the communities. The
work is imposed without any appreciation, with
no focus on traditions. And that’s why it falls flat.
The community can’t develop that way.
That scenario has to change, because on
a cultural level each quilombola community is
very different. We certainly have something in
common: we are descendants of black people
who were enslaved and to this day we live as
society’s outcasts, waiting for crumbs. We realize
that a new redress process is underway, but
that is still too little. It is said to realize that, but
communities still live waiting for crumbs, and
one of them is recognition, land ownership, the
same way that our ancestors waited around for
bread leftovers falling from the masters’ table at
the time of slavery. At the end of the day things
have not changed much. Public policies must
actually be implemented in the communities so
that our people will have more dignity.
35
Gleydson Gleber Bento
Alves de Lima Pinheiro
“A life is worth a lot”
A
t 34, judge Gleydson Gleber, from the
Third Criminal Court of Caruaru, a
city with 350 thousand inhabitants in
the Agreste region (T. N.: In Brazil, the Agreste
is a narrow zone in the states of Paraíba,
Pernambuco, Alagoas, Sergipe and Bahia
between the coastal forest zona da mata and the
semiarid sertão. The Agreste actually fades out
before Rio Grande do Norte is reached owing to
the breakdown of the mountain chain that gives
the coastal Atlantic forest zone high rainfall.)
of the state of Pernambuco, has extensive and
recognized experience in the defense of human
rights. He was the leading judge in the first major
operation against vigilante organized crime in the
country in 2007. Even under risks and threats, he
helped dismantle a powerful scheme, which was
responsible for a third of homicides in the city.
Intelligent and well articulated Gleydson
became a judge at age 24, always working in
the criminal area. He claims that his work is prolife and he believes that in human rights-related
cases it is the Court role to enforce the law,
and not to fall short - by making punishments
milder, or to go beyond - by delivering excessive
verdicts. He abides by the principle that everyone
is entitled to a fair treatment in trial. In addition
to working as a judge, he teaches at the Law
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school of Caruaru. He is the director of the City
Courthouse; he has a sandwich-scholarship to
study Constitutional Law, with classes also in
Portugal.
What was your work against criminal
organizations like?
I was a judge in the municipality of Santa Cruz
do Capibaribe, and in 2006 I was transferred
to Caruaru, a nearby town in the Agreste of
Pernambuco. At the time the town had an
average of 180 murders per year. The Criminal
Court I was transferred to had just been created
and it received the majority of the cases in order
to expedite cases held by other courts. Then, in
2006 and in 2007, I was virtually the only criminal
judge in the city. I worked in an investigation on
drug trafficking. The investigation uncovered a
major criminal organization in the city, which was
responsible for both trafficking and homicides.
The organization involved powerful people
of the city, as well as police officers - not the
military police as an institution, which has always
supported me, but some individuals working
within it. We had to call the Federal Police, in
Brasília, for backup forces. The operation resulted
in several convictions and in the dismantling of
the organization in April 2007. At the time, it was
the first major action against organized crime
related to murders in the country.
A total of 31 people were arrested. Homicide
levels in the city dropped by a third, remaining
lower to this day. Homicides decreased by one
third in the city: from as high as 180, by 2007
the number has gone down to 120 homicides,
and we managed to hold that number down to
this day. We had no homicides in the city this
year - from April to the end of June. We had three
months without any homicides.
Has your work in this case gone
beyond your duties as a judge?
No. I didn’t run the investigations myself. I
granted provisional remedies in the investigation,
which is what may or may not produce the
evidence: phone tapping, lifting of bank secrecy,
lifting of tax secrecy, among others. Things that
can be granted only by a judge. So much so that I
talked to the participants of the operation and told
them that I was there fulfilling my constitutional
role and that I would not go easy in that role.
Likewise, I would not fall short of what I was
supposed to do for all the parties involved.
I treat everyone the same way during the
case. For example, I allowed families to have
contact with inmates, despite the apprehension
that it could lead to violence against us.
When did threats begin?
Early in the hearings. We worked for a year
under threats. But I relied on the Federal Police
and also on the Court, which appointed other
eight judges to work in the case, so that the work
would not be personified in one person. I also
had unrestricted support from the Military Police.
However, people who violate human rights
will indeed focus their attention on the judge
who started the case. I also received threats
afterwards, probably because the case resolution
led to the organization being dismantled. For
such actions often get lost halfway to the end,
and the group still has the possibility to act. In the
case of Caruaru, that was not possible.
How to deal with fear?
Fear was present then and is present now,
but we end up getting used to some feelings.
Even under threat I hold my peace of mind
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and I take caution measures, but I feel protected
in the city. I choose where I live; I have all the
necessary precautions and support. Nonetheless,
I can’t walk around freely like a regular person.
I miss that. I am currently taking a masters’
degree course abroad, and that is where I feel
more relaxed and free. I can take the subway or
walk down the street without any concerns.
Today, I can live with these nuances of the
profession and I feel much better than in 2007.
In the beginning, I even faced health problems,
but I never missed a hearing, because that had
to be done.
Did you receive any support from
colleagues when you decided to tackle
the case even under threat?
Yes, from some. Others thought that I should
not have got so deeply involved,, and that I
should have left the case upon the first threats.
I simply had to stay; that was my case; it had
to be me. Of course, staying in a case with
these characteristics will greatly depend on the
personality of the judge. Some of my colleagues
told me that, if they were in my shoes, they would
have dropped the case to preserve their lives.
That sounds fair and serious enough to me.
But, as they say: life is about principles and
values. You weigh in everything and decide what
you want. At that moment, I saw that my work
should have priority over my personal issues.
In your opinion, what is a judge’s role
in securing human rights?
The judge’s role has always been and always
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will be to defend the constitutional provisions
and laws. A judge should not fall short in his
role, by failing to fulfill it, and neither should to
go overboard, by delivering excessive verdicts.
We can’t deliver excessive verdicts, or fall short
when a case comes to us. I mean, when you are
assigned with a case, it is your mission to fulfill it.
election, for example, I had to go to a small town
upstate in Pernambuco to talk to candidates,
and ask them to tune down their enthusiasm in
their militancy. Since I was aware that election
crimes were occurring, I had to warn them that
the entire election process could be jeopardized,
should any casualties occur.
You see, we are paid by the State for that,
to resolve conflicts of interest, to reach the
solution of a dispute. So when a case comes to
a judge, that case will be solved. If the person
is acquitted, that is OK. Otherwise, they will be
convicted. We are here to enforce the law. As
per my oath, I must comply with the constitution,
laws and pursue justice. That is what I´ll do until
the end of my career.
But, apart from some laws that should be
redressed, there is a matter of how the courts
will construe the existing laws. Our Constitution
is a post-dictatorship constitution. We are
experiencing a very intense period of repression
and suppression of human rights, so this
constitution especially focuses on the right to
freedom and on individual rights. But collective,
social and solidarity rights are also present, and
we need to value them. A new interpretation is
required. What should I preserve: the individual
rights of a person who kills or several lives? That
must be weighed in.
Concerning rights, for instance, I think the
defendant deserves a fair trial. Even someone
who has committed the worst and the largest
number of crimes deserves to be treated as a
human being at that moment. Should we have
the appropriate penitentiary system, the prisoner
would come out a better person, than when he
went in. Imprisonment itself is an ordeal.
In an overview of the situation of
human rights violation in the country,
which would you say is the main problem:
the lack of laws to protect these rights
or poor enforcement of these laws?
Certainly some laws should be redressed,
as punishments are too mild on who takes a
life away. Life is too valuable. It is our duty to
show criminals that taking a life away will result
in consequences. I am strongly attached to life;
that’s why I work the way I do. During the 2012
Currently, we must value the protection
rights in place. A democracy becomes in
fact a democracy when freedom comes with
responsibility. The interpretation given by the
courts must be one of equality and solidarity.
I have to be supportive of my fellow citizens.
Everyone has rights and duties.
That is what is missing. Laws must be
construed in such a way as to preserve life. The
Constitution must be used in accordance with the
social moment. It is the same; the rights are all
there. We already have enough democracy in the
country not to assign so much value to individual
rights when they collide with the rights of the
society as a whole. In this collision, we need to
preserve the whole and not just one person.
We talked a little about the role
of Justice and law. In this scenario of
vigilantism and violence against human
rights, what would be your suggestion
for other sectors?
I think laws should be enacted with life
preservation in mind. Additionally, the penitentiary
system has plenty of room for improvement, so it
may effectively rehabilitate a person who has been
convicted for violating human rights. We have no
life sentence in Brazil, so inmates will eventually
be released to live among society again. We can’t
turn jails into places to store human beings.
Human beings must be provided with at least the
very minimum. Another crucial issue in fighting
vigilante groups is making policies stronger, with
better conditions and better pay, as well as police
actions towards prevention.
Also, public policies are required. In a society,
the less inequality, the less crime. Social policies
help in mass crime prevention, allowing us to
fight against violence. Criminal organizations are
focused on trading, and will not cease to exist
with improved public policies. I’ve heard from a
member of an organized group: “Your Honor, this
is my job. Your job is to run the trial; mine is this”.
So, we also need to think about how to
improve our work in relation to organized crime.
Some of these groups will defy the legal system;
they will defy the police and destabilize power.
If institutions are afraid, then a parallel power
will be established. An inversion of values has
already started.
One of the most urgent and overwhelming
issues regarding crime and human rights in
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the undergoing discussions on the subject in the country is lowering
the legal age for criminal accountability. What is your opinion about it?
In Brazil, huge efforts are being made not to reduce the legal age for criminal
accountability. This is a right guaranteed to adolescents. At the same time, we need
public policies and education to prevent these adolescents from committing offenses.
So it’s a matter of choice. Either the country will offer conditions for people not to enter
crime, and then the legal age remains at 18, or eventually the legal age will have to be
reduced to 16, since the underlying crime industry will continue soliciting minors to
serve at the front of criminal organizations. But, again, I say. It’s a matter of principles,
values. What values will Brazil take in?
Would you have done something different today in comparison
to what you did in 2007?
I’ve asked myself that question many times. The balance of the
operation was very negative to me. So, I would have requested
assistance sooner. By the time the proceeding started, I had no
idea of how big the organization we were facing was. I couldn’t
do anything different than I did, though. I would have done
everything the same.
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41
João Luís Joventino do
Nascimento (João do Cumbe)
“We are experiencing a new colonization”
T
he traditional Cumbe’s community,
located 7,5 miles away from Aracati, East
coast of Ceará, is rich in natural resources
and cultural heritage. It is surrounded by dunes,
inter-dune ponds, estuaries, the Jaguaribe river,
beaches, an extensive mangrove swamp area
and carnauba palm forests. The population
consists mainly of fishermen and fisherwomen
living from hunting crabs and clams in the
mangrove swamp. This heritage is being pushed
by large shrimp farming undertakings - bred in
captivity. That is where João Luís Joventino do
Nascimento, also known as João do Cumbe, has
been focusing his efforts for the preservation of
mangrove swamps and of the very community
and its cultural traditions since 1996.
João used the school as a starting point for
his engagement. He built networks, gave visibility
to the problems, put the needs of a poor and
forgotten community on the map. After more
than fifteen years of struggle, now aged 39, he
decided to expand his work by taking a masters’
degree course in Education from the Federal
University of Ceará. He says he will continue to
propagate the story and the struggle of Cumbe in
defense of mangrove swamps and dunes to warn
other communities that may be experiencing the
same problem.
What are the characteristics of the
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Cumbe community?
Cumbe is a traditional community comprised
of fishermen and fisherwomen, craftsmen and
craftswomen, and farmers in the East coast of
the state of Ceará, in the municipality of Aracati.
Our main economic activity takes place in the
mangrove ecosystem: crab hunting, practiced by
men, and clam hunting, performed by women, in
addition to artisanal fishing in the estuary of the
Jaguaribe river. We hunt in the wild, we have no
crab or clam breeding facilities. We say that the
mangrove swamp is the father and the boss of the
whole community. It has always provided us with
food and resources so that we could maintain a
harmonious relationship with and respect for the
ecosystem - our livelihood derives from it.
Cumbe is an African word meaning
“Quilombo”. Some people do not recognize
themselves as Quilombolas, as a community
of black ancestry, but, talking to the elder, we
realize that the stories they tell are the stories
of black people. The region holds a large
natural heritage, comprised of the Jaguaribe
river, estuaries, the mangrove swamp, and the
carnauba palm forests, a huge dune field with
natural lagoons and, further on, the beach. We
also have a huge tangible and intangible cultural
heritage, such as Santa Cruz do Cumbe, dating
back from the nineteenth century, the ruins of
sugar cane mills, handmade windmills used to
irrigate the sugar cane crops, the mud house
of Luiz Correia, the fourth Catholic temple of
Cumbe - the Church of Nosso Senhor do Bonfim
do Cumbe, the traditional festivals, customs,
archaeological sites showing the occupation in
the region between 5 and 10 thousand years
ago, historical records that the region was well
developed as early as in the seventeenth century,
in addition to the traditional knowledge and ways
of living.
the mobilizations. That is the venue for anything
you do in the community.
The community is within an Environmental
Protection Area (EPA), but everything you can
imagine in terms of damage to the environment
takes place within this area. We suffer pressures
from all sides, such as the destruction of mangrove
swamps, which we rely upon to survive, and the
privatization of our dunes for the construction of
a wind farm, with serious consequences for the
community and associated ecosystems.
In 1996, shrimp farming - bred in captivity
- came to the community, bringing with it the
installation of several shrimp farms by people
both from the community and from outside, even
from other states of Brazil. They arrived with the
support of public banks and governments - local,
state and federal. With a speech of development
and progress, they promised our people roads,
formal employment, as well as several public
policies that governments are required to provide.
The speech was that shrimp farming would be
the salvation of the community, because fishing
for crabs, fish and clams was a far too outdated
activity. In fact, without knowing, much of the
community ended up working to deforest the
mangrove swamp. The mangrove areas were
reduced. In addition, access to the mangrove
swamp had been privatized. You would have
to walk an unimaginable distance to reach the
How did your story fighting for the
environment and for Cumbe’s traditional
population start?
The fight began in 1995, when I became a
teacher at the municipal school of Cumbe. In my
work, I tried to get the community involved. The
school is both the arrival and departure points for
From medical care to lectures on the
environment. So I have always tried to take
environmental issues into the school. The funny
thing is that at first I didn’t even want to be a
teacher. I ended up taking a Teaching course for
lack of a better option. However, today I see how
important it is to be inserted in the school to work
the way I do.
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fishing grounds.
At school, I heard students talking about
the shortage of fish and crabs, while some
fishermen and fisherwomen came to me to report
about their hardships. So, I thought I should do
something. I learned about the Terramar Institute,
a non-governmental organization that operates
across the Ceará coast. They helped me bring
the problem lived in Cumbe to light. People from
out of state began to come to the site and see
what was going on; we called Red Manglar, a
Latin American organization for the defense
of mangrove swamps, and also contacted the
Department of Geography from the Federal
University of Ceará. We started receiving
students, researchers, taking field classes and
attending events to expose and spark discussions
- and I have been doing that to this date.
Around the year 2000, fish and crabs mortality
levels started to rise. The promised job positions
were scarce, and fishermen would have to leave
their families and go to the state of Rio Grande
do Norte in search of their livelihood. We began
to inform against the situation. We found out
that they were using chemicals in net fishing of
shrimps, and after the shrimp was harvested in
the farms, those chemicals were released directly
into estuaries, thus killing other fish and crabs.
As a result of our mobilization and complaints,
they had to change their methods in 2003.
But were the shrimp farms closed?
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Yes, but not because of the chemicals that
caused, and still cause crab and fish to die. A
disease came down on the shrimp and that closed
almost all farms. So, that is why the farms were
abandoned. It still took the mangrove swamp four
years to go back to its original state. With God’s
blessing and our fight in defense of the mangrove
swamps, today we have a good amount of crab
available. The problem is that now they want
to bring the abandoned farms back and install
even more in other areas of carnauba palm
forests and sand flats, in addition to mangrove
areas. According to Brazilian environmental law,
mangrove swamp is a Permanent Preservation
Area (PPA), and, therefore, it must not be
deforested. Furthermore, the farms that were
abandoned in 2004, were never recovered,
which affects the ecosystem.
Was that the time people found out
that the dunes of Cumbe were home to
several archaeological sites?
Yes. The community is also a historical site,
and contains many archaeological sites in the
dunes, which are of the utmost importance. They
have been studied since 2002. Since I was a
child, I would come with my mom to do laundry
in the inter-dune ponds; we would always pass
by concentrations of archaeological materials,
without realizing what they were. At the time,
she told me that those materials belonged to
indigenous people. But no one was sure of that.
In 2004, now active in the community, I was
invited to attend a meeting of environmental
educators in areas of mangroves in the
municipality of São Francisco do Sul, state of
Santa Catarina. I attended a round table on the
history of mangroves through the Sambaquis
- a people who occupied the entire Brazilian
coast, and, when someone in the tribe died, the
deceased was buried along with his belongings,
because they believed in reincarnation. I realized
that was what we had in Cumbe. Visiting the
History Department of the Federal University
of Ceará, I told them some of Cumbe’s history,
and then about the archaeological sites. From
that moment, we started putting together an
expedition to recognize the area of the sites and
we proved that they were indeed historic and
prehistoric archaeological sites. The situation
remained undefined until 2008, when we
received the news that they were doing studies
for the implementation of a wind farm on the site.
What happened?
At the time, because wind power was
considered a clean energy that was just
coming to Brazil, just a simplified report and an
archeological study were required to implement
the wind farm. Except that, as per the report of the
first archaeologist hired by the company, the wind
farm construction would not be feasible. That is
because she found 53 sites and numerous traces
of archeological findings across other areas
of the dune field. According to this document,
it would take between five and eight years to
salvage all the material. The farm’s construction
company looked for an archaeologist who would
say otherwise. Then there was a second report
stating that it could be salvaged in four months.
As a result, the construction of the wind farm
was cleared to start.
As many as 41 thousand pieces were
removed, and all the archaeological material was
taken to Rio Grande do Norte. However, in 2009,
while protesting against the wind farm, we drafted
a list of demands, in which we claimed that the
archaeological material should be returned to
its place of origin: the community. After a great
deal of struggle and mobilization, we are now
achieving that goal, and a community museum is
planned to be built in the community.
What was this fight against the wind
farm like?
We fought mainly because we were not
listened to or respected, we were not consulted
with all the data at hand. Back in 2008, when
they started the construction work, a public
hearing was held to feature a project presentation
for the population, but the negative impacts were
not addressed then. They would have us believe
that everything would be wonderful.
Nonetheless, the impacts came up, and
they are still there today. The population was
faced with an intense handling of equipment,
dump trucks, trucks and heavy equipment going
through the narrow dirt road of the community,
from four o’clock in the morning until nine o’clock
at night. The houses closer to the construction
began to crack and water supply pipes broke. Our
peace and quiet was taken away. Dust began to
take over the community and cause respiratory
problems. Access roads to the beach of Cumbe,
to the dunes and to the inter-dune ponds are
currently
closed. In these places, roads were built
by the wind farm companies, and they said
that people would be able to use them freely.
Nowadays, if you want to go to the beach to fish
or to bathe, you need to ask their permission. The
dunes, which were previously public areas, now
are a private property. They took away our right to
come and go in the areas used by the community
to carry out our traditional activities.
There is also environmental pressure. Cumbe,
which once supplied the municipality of Aracati
with fresh water, now can no longer do that. I think
this is because to set up the foundations for the
wind turbines to implement the windmills reached
the groundwater, which could eventually become
contaminated. Currently only the community is
supplied with water from the dunes. What if it is
actually ever contaminated? Moreover, the dunes
45
are coming towards the community much faster
than they used to. It used to be a natural process
- now it is human intervention on the dune field.
How did you deal with this situation?
In 2009, we decided to shut down the work of
the wind farm. We organized a major protest to
show them that we meant it. For nineteen days
the road was blocked, and the farm’s construction
activities had to be interrupted. The reason we
shut down the work in the wind farm was their lack
of respect for the community and for the people
who live there - they acted as if we didn’t exist,
as if we were nothing. They made us invisible
and denied us our rights. What happened and
still happens in Cumbe is a number of violations
to our rights. Cases of environmental injustice
and racism by corporations, environmental
agencies and governments, which won’t respect
the community’s traditional life style, under the
argument of common interest and development
pursue. Nobody killed, stole or committed any
crimes. We were just claiming for our rights as
citizens. We also went to the State Prosecution
Office. We managed to have several news reports
published. Our struggle was publicly exposed.
That action resulted in a list of demands, where
corporations and the government should assume
responsibility for the injustices committed against
the community.
46
Our demands include the construction of a
paved road between Aracati and Cumbe, which
they had already promised when they first got
here. We also asked them to restore houses,
fences, the church and the schools, which were
all damaged by the transit of machines, to return
any archaeological material that was removed
from the dunes, and to build a community
museum to exhibit the pieces. Moreover, we
claimed free access through the road built for
the wind farm, to the dunes, inter-dune ponds,
beach, archaeological sites, and cemetery and to
some mangrove areas, as well as the jobs they
promised when the project was presented.
And has the situation improved?
Some of these things have been fulfilled,
while others are halfway. And they are promoting
themselves over things that were achieved
thanks to the community’s efforts. They threw
a big celebration party when they completed
the work in the Catholic Church, which was
damaged by the construction of the wind farm.
On the day of delivery, they asked me not to
speak at the party. But I took the mic and said
that it was an achievement of the struggle of
the community, and that the company was not
doing us any favors, they were doing nothing
more than their obligation as the damage was
caused by them in the first place. The company
hired a team for the company to liaise with
the community, pretending they were actually
listening to the people. They claimed they threw
celebration parties, giving away cake and soda,
and that they taught the community classes on
environmental education - as if we were the ones
destroying the dunes, ponds and archaeological
sites, and that they offered various courses on
things that the community already knew how to
do. They suggested that the people in Cumbe
learned how to cook, cut hair, sew, manicure and
other services from these courses provided by
the company. Doing things just to deceive the
people, calming down the population so they
wouldn’t fight for their rights.
We are experiencing a new colonization.
The Portuguese and the Dutch occupied much
of our coast, and the history books tell us that
they brought mirrors and goodies to trade for
brazil wood. From my work in the coastal zone
of Ceará, and observing the dynamics of these
developments, which rely on domestic and
foreign capital, a new colonization is in place. Of
course it is now done in a more modern way.
They no longer offer goodies, but rather health
clinics, schools, jobs and roads - things that
should be done by governments through public
policies. These large projects have no regard
for the populations and traditional activities,
which have been overlooked at other times in
history. Capitalism has taken ownership over
a demand defended by social movements and
environmentalists - wind power- which is now
being implemented at all costs, with nothing but
profit in mind. At this point, one of these days
someone will come to Cumbe and say: “Get out,
I own this place”.
In fact, wind power is pointed out
by environmental movements as an
alternative to hydroelectric power
plants. From your point of view, how will
this balance work?
We are not questioning wind power itself,
but the how these projects are installed in the
coastal zone of Ceará, in traditional territories
and communities. When companies contract
such environmental impact studies, we are
made invisible, as if we had no relationship
with our territory. There is an alternative for a
peaceful coexistence with traditional populations.
Geographers from the Federal University of Ceará
show, for example, that it is possible to build wind
farms outside fishing territories and traditional
communities, in the so-called tablelands, but it
would require spending more money, and they
don’t want that. They prefer to build the plants
on top of the dunes so that they can benefit from
the height, while reducing costs.
Our traditions and our way of life are not
respected. They wanted to put wind turbines
even in our cemetery, which is in the highest
dune in the area. The population is unable to
use traditional leisure spots, such as Murici
pond, which received a wind turbine. But I say:
“Listen, this is something easy to solve. When
you arrived here, we were already here. And if
you knew that this wind turbine would cause all
this trouble, take it down and place it elsewhere,
but leave the pond to us so that we can carry
out our activities.” There are solutions. They just
won’t adopt them.
Have you received any threats in your
struggle for the wind farm?
Yes, I received physical, death, moral and
psychological threats. The psychological threats
shocked me the most. They removed me from
my duties as a teacher at the community
school I was assigned to for thirteen years, and
transferred me to a community 80 miles away.
I had to commute 100 miles to work every day.
I developed a number of diseases, including
labyrinthitis. I couldn’t even take a bus to work
anymore. I was on medical leave for six months,
but I managed to work again in the defense of
our rights in Cumbe. Then, because of my health
issues, I went back to the school in Cumbe, but
not to my original role.
The school was my home. I don’t even like to
talk about it. I used to work in the morning and
afternoon and hold meetings with the community.
Now I don’t have that anymore. The way I was
removed from there made me dislike the place. I
felt kicked out of my own home. I committed no
crime. All I did was to defend my place and speak
out against what was wrong.
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Do you still teach classes?
For now I’m trying to ask for a leave to take
a masters’ degree course. I’m 39 years old and
I had forgotten all about my own life because of
the fight. I put together my desire to go back to
school and my desire to stay away from the usual
political conflicts that happen in the city
in years of election. My application was
accepted for a master’s in education from the
Federal University of Ceará, in line with social
movements, popular education and school. My
research project is about environmental racism.
In addition, I am very tired of it all. I was sure I was
doing the right thing, but some people thought I
was wrong, that I didn’t have the community’s
interest at heart. I don’t blame them. They are
victims of this system.
But I have been contributing, and will continue
to contribute, by speaking in various venues about
these conflicts experienced by the community
in Cumbe, concerning both wind farms and
shrimp farms. I participate in various movements
in defense of the coastal zone of Ceará, in the
defense of ecosystems. For example, I’ll join the
discussions in PAN Mangrove Swamp - Action
Plan for Threatened Species of Socioeconomic
Relevance in the Mangrove Swamp Ecosystem in
the Brazilian Coast, by the Ministry of Environment
(ICMBio), which aims to establish necessary
actions for conservation, as well as to ensure
48
that guarantees are in place for the maintenance
of the life style across traditional communities in
the mangrove swamp ecosystem.
We are also committed to warn other
communities about where wind farms and shrimp
farms are headed to. The visibility of the conflicts
experienced in Cumbe actually helped and is
helping other communities to deal with similar
problems. In the municipality of Caravelas, state
of Bahia, around the Abrolhos Archipelago, for
example, the largest shrimp farming development
in Brazil was about to be implemented. Together
with a group from Ceará, I visited the communities
in Caravelas. We exchanged information about
the shrimp farm installation processes, and the
conflicts faced by the population. Visiting Ceará
with representatives of the people of Caravelas,
a video was produced with community people
speaking about the real problems imposed by
shrimp farming. In the end, the venture was not
implemented. The people in Caravelas say that
we contributed to that.
Therefore, through dissemination of
information, communities can be educated and
prepared, which is something we never had in
Cumbe. As a result of our work, other groups
will become empowered for the struggle, and
that makes me happy. Our struggle has a sad
side, but there is also the good side of it: we are
contributing to other struggles.
.
49
Júlio César Ferraz de Souza
“A defender of rights is a human being, as
well”
J
úlio Cesar Ferraz de Souza, 47, has been
working to ensure the right to housing
in Manaus for nearly four decades.
Thanks to him, thousands of people managed
to get their houses, as well as more suitable
living conditions. He believes and bets on the
organization power of the homeless population as
a means to resist political pressures for eviction
and land repossession actions. Nowadays, he
is the national leader of the Homeless Workers
Movement.
In the 1980s, Júlio was an active member
of the Workers’ Party, while working for the
government of the state of Amazon. He has a
technical degree in pathology, but could never
find a job after the struggle began. He was
arrested, tortured and threatened of death. With
his heart condition detected in 2012, he now
dreams of meeting his son again, who he has not
seen for three years.
How did you start to defend housing
rights?
The journey of most homeless people starts
from an unemployment structural process. I used
to be a pathology technician for the Manaus
Bureau of Health, although I was not a civil
servant. In less than one day, six thousand health
50
professionals — who had not been hired through
the appropriate civil service exam, lost their jobs.
That is when I realized I would have nowhere to
go. I could no longer pay rent and was evicted.
I was married back then and had to find
a place for us to stay. By 1995, I moved to
Riacho Doce, a trespass settlement, and took
my first steps in the homeless struggles. I
saw aggressions against dwellers there every
day. Actually, aggressiveness is the standard
treatment the homeless are provided with.
So, you decided to act?
People were really disorganized to resist
those attempts. I had previous experience in
organizations, since I had worked at the health
professionals union and I had also been an active
member of the Workers’ Party. Looking at all that
disorganization and all the aggressions, I took
all I had learned, the methods I mastered to the
popular movement.
They were often attacked and they ran. I
helped them resist physical and political attacks.
With this new mobilization strength, they got
organized, succeeded in gaining the area and
could settle there. The area’s regularization
was assured thanks to the resistance of three
thousand people, who would not give up the
area, and made connections with churches,
politicians, universities, and so on; they showed
their unwillingness to surrender as they marched
for 11 miles.
Did you take up residence in Riacho
Doce?
No. There were many people in worse
conditions than I was. I even got a plot of land,
but there was this woman — unemployed and
with many kids, who needed it more than I did.
I ended up assigning the plot of land to her. My
wife at the time found us a place to live, were I
could get odd jobs, or something permanent. The
woman I mentioned, on the other hand, could not
get by.
Was it when the homeless movement
of Manaus was created?
No. That was still an isolated activity; it was
the very beginning of the fight. Back then, we
could still prevent an eviction in Santa Luzia. It
was a large garage that has long been occupied
by the homeless. We won that struggle. Then,
yes, there were several groups united; the
struggle Homeless Movement of Manaus arose.
Is there any achievement by the
movement that you think is especially
successful?
Well, after much struggling we could regularize
an abandoned area, originally occupied by five
hundred people. It is a really large area totaling
1.6 million hectares. Nowadays, it has expanded
and become New Vitória.
How did that happen?
With the rise of the Struggling Homeless
Movement of Manaus, in 2000, the state
government hired me to deal with the homeless
affairs. The whole idea was to deal with the
occupations, and to register the homeless
for future assignment of popular plots. These
were nothing but promises. In the occasion,
I moderated an agreement to relocate Nova
Vitória inhabitants to another space within that
huge area; we were like a water drop within
that huge land piece. However, the agreement
was mercilessly nullified. They simply decided
to remove those people away for political and
financial reasons.
That is why I quit my activities in the
government. I could not betray my group, or Nova
Vitória’s inhabitants. They helped others to their
51
Dez faces
da luta
pelos
Direitos
Humanos
no Brasil
among prisoners. I bled for a week and no doctors were called.
Sometime after that, my cellmate was killed right in front of me.
I had never seen such cruelty. I still suffer the consequences of
that... I feel terribly guilty for not being able to save him.
Nova Vitória was regularized in 2006 and it is still
being threatened. He has even joined the Federal
Human Rights Defenders’ Protection Program. Why?
What is the current struggle?
Now we are fighting against an even bigger and more severe
problem in Manaus: the “land grabbing” of public lands. “Land
grabbers” took over 30 million hectares of land belonging to the
federal government or granted to individuals who had not claimed
it. This is a piece of land that could be used to accommodate
part of the 800 thousand homeless people from Manaus. We are
specially fighting for an area in Águas Claras, currently occupied
by companies. Thence we gathered the documents and went
to Brasília to request an inspection by the National Council of
Justice. The decision determined the annulment of occupation
of the area by companies and other “land grabbers”.
own detriment. By that time, the campground
already had basic infrastructure such as a small
school, churches from different religions — no
discriminations involved. I took nurses and a
social assistant to help. Previously excluded
people started being treated as real people. I just
could not leave that.
Nova Vitória was finally regularized in 2006.
There was a celebration and even homage for
me. After all that resistance. People could resist
to all attacks, including military operations. It was
not bent down. The struggle stood up.
52
Have you ever been threatened and
attacked?
If I had chosen to remain with the government,
I would certainly have a different life. But I
chose this. Before the regularization, there
were numberless occasions in which the police
came and violent actions were taken in the area.
Personally, I have been through illegal arrest
attempts, and later I served six months in prison.
I was tortured. They wanted me to turn in names
and addresses of the leaders of the housing
movement in Nova Vitória. I did not say a word,
obviously. Prisoners make no deals.
Besides that, during imprisonment I was
beaten up for one and a half hour by four men.
I could be dead by now shouldn’t my cellmate
have started shouting and started a mass
53
Threats began. Some coordinators and
comrades died in the process. I had to remain on
the alert and started to live a routine-free life and
even had to hide.
Do you think that this routine-free life
has weakened the struggle?
No. Our movement has been founded to
support the absence of one leadership and to
replace it with another one. It is grounded on
a solid footing. I built the teams myself. They
learned to work around adverse events and took
actions in my absence. The movement won’t stop
growing. They have already been mobilized and
moved. Meetings and mobilizations take place
regardless of my presence.
Actually, it would be a smarter call for our
opponents to have me there. I am the one person
within the movement that is most capable to
prevent extreme actions. I am a tolerant person,
and I can handle things moderately. I do not buy
cheap radicalism, or partisanship. The movement
is not a party. We can’t be manipulated. We are
independent.
There’s as much as 800 thousand
homeless people in Manaus. What
actions do you think could be taken
54
to improve the situation, realistically
speaking?
First of all, the government should make
room for impartiality and conversation with the
movement. There must be a change on the
opinion about social movements. Within the
state, the movement is thought of as criminal,
and not regarded as a group of people who want
to help others, to guarantee people’s rights.
It is also necessary to set housing allotments
for the homeless, preferably on a legal basis,
since the results achieved by the movement
— regardless of the struggles — are not
so encouraging. After a lot of pressure, we
succeeded to determine that a small percentage
of the houses that are being built for donation
will go to the movement in Manaus. There were
a total of 300 houses from the state government
grand plan and from the Minha Casa, Minha Vida
Program.
The State of Amazon share in the Minha Casa,
Minha Vida Program is the largest of the Country,
yet it is not sufficient for the housing deficit.
Perhaps, the creation of a council for the program,
with an active participation of the society, would
be essential for the initiative social control in the
states. Therefore, the federal government would
be able to address the problem more effectively.
In addition, the structural unemployment
could be dealt with more intensively, after
all, that is what puts homeless people in the
situation they find themselves in. There should
to be concessions, especially towards the less
privileged, the unemployed, with no income and
lacking everything.
Did you have any other jobs after
you joined the movement, besides the
position in the state government?
No. I used to make a living on odd jobs. I
never managed get any jobs as a pathology
technician again. You become stigmatized and
no job positions are offered you.
to Amapá and I haven’t seen him for three years.
I recently saw a picture of him sleeping on a
park bench. While in Manaus, he was abused by
his mother, but I just was not strong enough or
did not have the means to take care of him. I
deeply regret that. Now, I am sick. I have a heart
condition and need to find him while I still can.
That is why it is important that I find him. How
can I talk about a fair and humanized society,
if I leave a child behind? What example am I
standing for? No one thinks that a defender
of human rights is also a human being. The
movement struggle is progressing without me,
so I could leave it behind if I had to.
Do you have any regrets regarding
this struggle?
Saying that I have regrets would mean that I
feel I am the one to blame. And I am not. I did no
harm to anyone. All I wanted was to help people.
What are your plans for the future?
My top priority now is my son. I had a son
with my first wife, eight years ago. They moved
55
Leonora Brunetto
“You can’t simply leave such suffering
people behind”
F
or over three decades the “gaúcha”
(T. N.: designation of those born in Rio
Grande do Sul State) Leonora Brunetto,
67 years-old, has been working in advocacy of
landless peasants. Sister Leonora, a member
of the Congregation of the Sisters, Servants of
the Immaculate Heart of Mary and of the CPT
(Land Ministry Commission), has been organizing
leaderships and empowering the youths to fight
for the right to land and for issues related to
agroecological production.
She has worked in Rio Grande do Sul,
Tocantins, Rio Grande do Norte, and Maranhão.
Nowadays, she is a member of the CPT in Northern
Mato Grosso. With a soft and calm voice - but
with strength, courage, and faith, she has been
facing the agribusiness and the “land-grabbing”
that rule the region. She bets on the youth power
to ensure that family-based agriculture grows
stronger and remains in the area.
How did you start working with the
landless? Why did you start working for
human rights?
pretty disorganized. They had no unions, and
they could not market their grapes directly. So, I
started a project with young winegrowers there.
We succeeded to get them organized, to create
a union, and to advance relatively to land work.
This work yielded really positive results.
In 1982, the Congregation invited me to work
in the city of Presidente Kennedy, Tocantins
(formerly part of Goiás State). There, I was also
invited to be part of the CPT (Land Ministry
Commission). Through our work, we tried to
strengthen groups of peasants to remain in their
land. We also worked with groups of youths,
so there would be a continuance of the familybased agriculture. That was a violent time, when
squatters were evicted by force.
We faced threats, deaths, and lost fight
comrades. However, we could manage to have
nearly 130 families owning the land, working
with a family-based agriculture, and providing for
the city’s demands. I haven’t stopped ever since.
In which other States did you work
before Mato Grosso? What situation did
I started working with peasants back in 1978, you face, then?
in Rio Grande do Sul, where I was born. I was
a member of the Congregation of the Sisters,
Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary; at that
time, the winegrowers of Bento Gonçalves were
56
In 1989, I went to Rio Grande do Norte to work
in the rural area of João Câmara. There, I provided
training for youths and developed a project with
workers. In some regions of the Country, there
were small holders already articulating and
organizing groups of youths to occupy the area.
That certainly caused conflicts. However, in other
areas where I worked things were easier, and
there was not so much violence. I could better
accomplish my mission. We managed to help
regularize the lands of 11 groups of about 50
families.
In 1992, there was this unused area that
nobody wanted to occupy in Maranhão, but I
did. The situation was much more violent there.
I could be dead by now. We won at Court the
expropriation of public lands, which had been
squatted. We also worked with groups of rural
workers. In addition, we started a project with
European countries for the implementation of
sustainable family-based agriculture. Regardless
of all our victories and accomplishments, the
violence and threats situation was flagrant.
Next, I went to Brasília. There, I spent one year
working with landless youths of the Capital’s
surroundings.
In 2003, I went to Mato Grosso. There I found
a long-suffering, inexperienced group. They
lacked an organized movement; the Landless
Movement does not work in the region. The field
campers’ situation was awful. We then started
working in the region.
How is the work you develop with
these groups?
It is my job to find leaders, to train the youths,
and to organize the groups to fight for land. We
also offer support with the documentation of the
lands these groups are occupying. We check their
conformity to law, because if you discover that an
area is a public land that has been “grabbed” –
as it happens in the North of Mato Grosso, you
can fight for it. Whether or not they will succeed
is a different story.
However, the right is legitimate. From such
discovery the groups may count on our support
for their fight. We struggle across different
instances. Every week a group asked for help...
We also worked with regularized settlements, to
secure their permanence on the land.
With this work, we could implement some
settlements. The first ones were easier because
the land was within a national park. Next, farmers
insisted on settling to obtain the legalization of
the land. If they legalized the campgrounds, they
would also legalize other lands. The processes
slowed down after that. Some campgrounds have
been claiming that for ten years before Court.
Legalizing lands has become harder, as a result
of the agribusiness growth, along with the fact
that they are in public lands, while having political
57
influence and money. We lack the influence and
the resources, but we are organized. It is harder.
Justice process is too slow. Nowadays, there
are several campgrounds across public lands
that had been “grabbed”, as well as another
three with land acquisition in progress. Each
campground has about 250 families.
What is the situation of these
campgrounds?
The situation is critical. No basic survival right
is secured. This year, we only got one basic food
basket aid - a little bit enriched, for the whole
year. There are no water and sewerage services.
The water they drink come from rivers and dams
- the same water animals drink from. It has been
poisoned once. We informed against it, but no
endeavors were made. It feels like they think:
“They are campers, anyway. Let them die”.
As to food, they can fish in the rivers nearby
- at least, for now. It is possible to get the least
of the basics. However, sometimes I see a
child holding to his mother’s cloth saying: “No
pumpkin, mom...” Pumpkin is abundant in Mato
Grosso all the time. I guess that little child will
never ever eat pumpkin again, when he can have
other food.
Luckily for us, we get a lot of clothing
donations out of Sinop citizen’s charity. We take
the donations to the campground. They often
exceed the needs. However, we do not give
those for free. We sell them at a symbolic value,
say, one real, fifty cents. That is to teach them
how to value what they get. When you are given
anything for free, you don’t care for it as if you
had bought it.
58
On the other hand, they cannot grow crops,
because there is not enough space in the
campground. In Novo Mundo, we could progress
a little. We have moved the fence a little forward;
I’m glad to know they have not moved it back.
We started pushing it slowly; every day a little
further. As a result, we got an area where they
can at least plant for their own survival - a sort of
communitarian kitchen-garden.
What about the legalized settlements?
There are areas with seven thousand families
already settled. However, not all of them benefit
from the government programs for settled
families, especially those relating to housing. I
can’t even look at that, because I find it a disaster.
Workers have been aggrieved, since they only got
partial resources to build their homes. Some only
got cement and tile, others did not get bricks,
and that is to say, they have been cheated.
How can you build a good settlement
like that?
Settlements were not intended to work
out right, because it is not of interest that they
succeed. Mato Grosso wants to have the largest
share of agribusiness. The objective is that,
with non-operating settlements, settled families
would eventually sell their lands to businessmen
and large producers of soy, corn, and so on. They
use that argument against our work. They tell
the judge: “What is the use to let the Sister build
the settlement, while they will be selling their
plots later?” Considering the situation, they will
certainly be forced to do that.
That was not always like this. Looking back
at the settlements built in my time, I just have to
be happy, because most people did not sell their
lands.
What do you do to ensure their
permanence in the lands?
There are public policies focused on
family-based agriculture, but they have been
disregarded. Peasants cannot count on the
support of a technician. They have never been
guided on how to access those policies. In the
North of Mato Grosso, we are developing a work
to make families stay. We fought for the territory,
and then we could send technicians to help 1500
peasants, with the aid of the Ministry of Agrarian
Development. These technicians organize the
farmers and help them market the production.
Our workers basic problem lies on livelihood and
marketing means.
We are trying to develop this job, sending
the farmers to the CONAB (National Food Supply
Company) and to the PNAE (School Diet National
Program). In addition, we are training workers
to start a very interesting project - which has
been used in Carlinda - named “Cisco”. Once a
week, farmers enter their products to an internet
system to be sold to consumers - to individuals
or legal entities. Consumers place their orders
over the internet and products are delivered to
their homes.
What about your work with young
people? Why work with this segment?
It is untrue to affirm the youth does not want
land. From my experience, I have seen exactly the
opposite. In one of the campgrounds there are
thirty youths who want to have land, in addition to
learn about it. They say they don’t want to move
to the city. Some of them even have jobs, but they
prefer to return to the field.
Furthermore, youth is the assurance of
permanence of the family-based agriculture in
the conquered land. If a family with five kids has
a plot of land, this land will not be enough when
these kids grow up. Due to the lack of schools of
agriculture, they will be forced to study in the city,
even against their will. If they all leave, parents
will be left behind, will grow old, and eventually
sell the land.
This is why we work with the youths; they
are disoriented, without a direction. Life in the
city does not and will not provide them with that
guidance. You can’t just turn a blind eye to that.
In 2012 we will start a large project with young
people from seventeen cities, offering them
a solid education, so they can work with other
youths in the future and may fight for agriculture
schools and for schools in the rural areas, and
may conquer their piece of land.
You have also worked to fight against
slave work in Mato Grosso. How was
that?
The Land Ministry Commission has been
working with the slave work issue since its
foundation. By 2006, in Mato Grosso, I took over
the program that directly deals with that. There
is a central reporting hotline. In addition, we
investigated and continue actively investigating
slave work situations, especially in the
countryside. Farms where no one was allowed
to enter; there was a set of indications of such
practice in place. Then, we started a divulging
work. We divulged the reporting hotlines; we
talked and explained about the problem, and
held many assemblies. From workers reporting,
we informed against farmers, meat packers,
supermarkets, and cooperative enterprises. We
have had a strong support from the Prosecution
Office.
59
Later, they took me off the position because
it was too much to cope with. At CPT, however,
we end up working without pre-assigned roles,
but rather having one help the other. I’m still in
contact with that issue. We get the impression
that slave work has been reduced. However, it
is still a strong practice, just that in a low-profile
manner. We have seen reports of workers and
families being threatened, living under precarious
diet conditions, where animals are given better
treatment than workers. It is inhuman.
We get a strong support from the NGO Brasil
Repórter, which has a project against slave
work. We joined efforts to gather teachers and
provide them with training to raise awareness on
the issue, so they can reproduce that for their
students. This is a long-term work, as an attempt
to change the situation.
For over thirty years now, you
have been living with violence and in
situations that are difficult to handle
in your work. How about fear? Are you
ever afraid?
There are really difficult situations; we see a
great deal of inhumanity, and that just wears you
60
out. The sisters of the Congregation sometimes
ask me why I look down. In some situations, it
is impossible to be high-spirited. Throughout my
life, I have survived various death attempts.
So, that doesn’t mean I am fearless. Every
now and then, I feel afraid. On the other hand,
as long as you are afraid, there is this divine
force pushing you: “Don’t stop, fight on, you may
go on”. So, I can leave fear aside and move on.
During these dreadful moments, though, I try to
be more careful. I stop, think, and decide if it is
time to take a different course or to stop. In the
beginning, I was terrified. I felt like quitting. Now,
it is a signal for reflection.
Do you consider quitting?
Not at all. Even if I wanted to quit now, I just
couldn’t. I sometimes wonder how campers
would manage without me if I happened to quit.
You can’t simply leave such suffering people
behind. It would be easy for me. I would ask
the Congregation to assign me to somewhere
calmer. How would my conscience be like, then?
Knowing I have food, shelter, a decent comfort,
while others don’t? You can’t stop. God would no
longer allow that.
61
Maria Joel Dias (Joelma)
“We built this story because I did not lose
courage”
T
he story of Maria Joel Dias, better known
as Joelma, could be just another story
of the thousands of Brazilians who fled
to Pará State in the 1980s, looking for better
life conditions and land to make a living on, but
found a totally different situation. Unionist José
Dutra da Costa (Dezinho), killed in 2000, was her
husband, and from his actions she could ensure
land, hope and livelihood for part of the Brazilians
who went to Rondon do Pará, a municipality
Southeast of the State with about 45 thousand
inhabitants.
At the age of 49, Joelma has been effectively
working for peasants since 2002, when she
undertook the Agriculture Workers Union of the
city - her husband’s former position. According
to Joelma, her struggle is a continuance of
Dezinho’s dream. For all he fought while alive,
Joelma was not omissive, thus informing against
“land grabbing”, wood exploration and struggling
for better life conditions. Nowadays, she is
the regional coordinator of the Federation of
Agriculture Workers in Pará.
You and your family are from
Maranhão. How did you end up in
Rondon do Pará? Why?
We lived in Urbano Santo, a small town in
the countryside of Maranhão. There, we owned
62
a small agriculture practice, family was growing,
and, in the 1980s, Pará was the promise of a
land of riches, money and abundant employment.
My parents had already moved to Pará, and in
1984 we decided to move into the State, too.
The question is that we found a labor situation
that was totally diverse, as compared to what
we were familiar with. The widespread word on
the region’s richness was true: Pará is very rich.
However, the conditions are totally different.
In Maranhão, we managed the land, we
sowed, and then we harvested. We worked
independently, sold and consumed products.
In Rondon, work was not about plantation and
harvesting. The town offered two work fronts:
wood and cattle breeding. We had to deforest the
woods to create pasture for the cattle and handle
the wood extraction activity for major farmers.
In addition, there was slave work; people did
not get paid for their work, i.e.: work was not
valued. Actually, it was a situation that was very
different from that we used to have.
How did that impact on your actions?
Dezinho was a very experienced worker, you
know? He had a different opinion, a political
opinion on the situation. He understood what
was necessary for people to make a living: they
needed land to work on, to have food and to
become self-sufficient. In 1993, he was invited to
be the president of the city’s Agriculture Workers
Union. At the time, the land cause did not exist.
The union existed to ensure retirement and
some other rights. There was a stronger focus
on welfare.
He realized that the Union not only was a
gateway to welfare, but that it could create a
broader course of action in that town, and that’s
why it should change in order to work on the
land issue. Therefore, he sought support from
FETAGRI (Federation of Agriculture Workers in
Pará) and from the Commission of the Land
Ministry. Note that he also started giving more
space for women within the union. Before that,
women were not allowed to participate, to join as
members, and alike.
When he started this struggle, landowners
changed the way they regarded the Union. How
could a peasant make such a fuss? He was really
starting a revolution in that town. That is when
violence started.
What kind of revolution happened?
When Dezinho took over the Union, you
see, there were occupations surrounding the
town already, and workers did not have any
representatives. He looked for information on
the ownership of the lands they were in - which
was public land; then he helped workers to get
organized, to fight and to make demands before
federal and state government for the right to that
land. Ultimately, Dezinho succeeded in drawing
the state’s attention to the land question, holding
meetings with the participation of workers,
putting government representatives in action,
showing the situation.
It was eight years of struggles and another
four occupations for which he fought, organizing
workers, and leading a resistance. He stood out
as an example because his leadership made
workers continue struggling, regardless of the
threats and deaths. Despite the violence, these
families started growing their own food. We
found all that beautiful; we were touched by
it. People were happy because they no longer
needed to buy rice, wheat, and so on; they could
get that from that land piece. People’s joy was
impressive!
Dezinho also fought to take settlement
projects to those areas, to provide a decent
infrastructure for the camped families. However,
he was killed before that dream came true.
Were you also directly involved in the
struggle by that time?
63
In the beginning, I was very afraid. I only prayed.
My kids were little, and I did not understand why
Dezinho did all that; all the chasing was not worth
it. I wanted to have his attention on my family
and myself. I tried really hard to make him leave
that, because there were many threats, and he
could die. It was very hard for me to understand
that he believed other families could provide the
support needed. In time, he made me realize the
fight was worthwhile, that someone had to fight
for an abandoned people - one without access
to healthcare, to education, to employment, and
often to food. Since I had worked at the Ministry
of Children, and I knew that happened for a fact,
I ended up buying into the struggle, too.
himself as a simple worker. Our door was never
opened. A window was used, instead, because
we already lived in that unsafe atmosphere, then.
However, I felt sorry for that young man, let him
in and even kept him company.
Until 2000, when he died, I supported the
struggle, although not from within the union. I
participated in the meetings, in the assemblies.
Additionally, I worked selling clothes. I worked
to support Dezinho’s work in the union. I made
enough to get food, so he could ensure other
people could have food, as well.
Considering all that, why did you
decide to take over the Union presidency?
You mentioned that there was a lot
of violence and threats against your
husband. How did that happen?
That was very hard. It was eight years of a live
filled with violence. Due to the continuous threats
he was out of town, and away from his family
most of the time. As to myself, I was afraid of
losing him. And I did.
He was the kind of person who would help
anyone, even on a personal level. Whenever he
could, he provided emotional support, advices
and even material help. A young man once
stopped by in the evening, asking for help to
secure his grandfather’s pension, who had just
passed away. He was different. He introduced
64
Since my husband was not home, I asked my
daughter to pick him up. The young man kept
waiting. I kept him company. As Dezinho was
arriving, I left the young man by the doorstep and
went to my bedroom. I heard gun shots, I ran
out and saw them fighting. Dezinho had been
shot three times on the chest. They fell into a
large ditch, while I cried out for help. By the time
people came, he was already dead.
For two reasons: first, to get justice done for
my husband’s death. The other, was because
Dezinho had a dream, and I wanted to help it
come true. I am just a mediator of his dream.
That was certainly a difficult decision to make. I
had never thought of leading the Union. I gave it
much thought. In 2002, Dezinho’s friends invited
me.
I realized all the injustice imposed on
Dezinho and other workers. Pará has a vast
amount of land, but also a lot of needs. I could
see the carelessness, as well. So, why is it that
workers must occupy land pieces, resist, expose
themselves, die, and only later actions are taken?
That can’t continue.
At first, my kids opposed the idea, fearing
I could also get killed. I had to convince them
of the importance to give their dad’s dream
continuance. He did not kill; he did not steal, but
only stood up in defense of others’ lives.
You got strong support from other
organizations. How did that influence
your actions?
They had an essential influence. I succeeded
in exposing the cause of the workers, and in
demanding justice for my husband’s death. The
first thing I did when I undertook the Union was
to look for support. We were in a critical moment,
and alone I would not succeed to perform the
job Dezinho was kept from doing, which was left
unfinished. I was supported by organizations like
FETAGRI, the Land Ministry, the Global Justice,
the Human Right, among others, along these
eight years of activity.
Through Justice Global, we filed a
representation before the Inter-American
Commission of Human Rights, which signed
an agreement with Brazil to enable a series of
measures related to the crime against Dezinho,
among which a death indemnification. Through
Justice Global I could also participate in a seminar
in Ireland, where I could request the UN support.
With that, many doors were opened so I could
tell my story and ask for justice. The hit man
was tried and sentenced to 29 years in prison,
because of my struggle, although he managed to
escape from prison. The masterminds’ issue is
more complicated. Trials have been set, but they
have not happened yet. I keep struggling for that.
The Human Right, comprising of artists, has
been helping me a lot, exposing the cause. Who
would ever imagine that four global artists would
come to Rondon do Pará to support peasants?
That was in 2011. We celebrate Dezinho’s
birthday every year, and in 2011, it was on a two
day-event, with the participation of those artists.
This brings visibility into the matter for the entire
population. With their help, I could meet the then
president, Mr. Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva twice, to
inform against my situation and the situation of
other leaders under death threats due to land
struggles, as well as to inform against “land
grabbers” and wood explorers.
FETAGRI and the Land Ministry also supported
me in the visibility matter. They also helped me
work on the base, in the union’s actions.
What were the main results of your
actions for Rondon’s peasants, as a
union president?
With the support I got, less than one year
and a half later, the four campgrounds Dezinho
struggled for were transformed into settlement
projects. Of course, Dezinho’s death reflection
speeded up things a little. We took documents
to the presidency; we presented dossiers, and
informed against “land grabbing”. It took his
death to create those four settlements. It took
another person to stand up for it. Once again,
a revolution was born. Some said there would
never have settlements there. “What now?” they
asked me.
I could manage the occupation and transform
another five areas into settlements. We identified
public and unproductive lands; we met, and
organized workers for campgrounds. We then
filed reports proving that the lands were public,
and we implemented settlement projects for the
occupied lands. Nowadays, there are another
nine settlements with approximately 4 thousand
families. We also got credit lines for these people,
through covenants signed.
Besides that, we provided technical education
in farming and cattle raising for sixteen people,
sons of farmers, so they could work with the land.
65
Another six graduated in pedagogy. We also have
a Law graduate. All that through union actions.
Education was also part of Dezinho’s dream.
I also worked to strengthen women’s actions
in the struggle for the right to land. In most of the
settlements, the Association - which is necessary,
is managed by women. They are equally present
in the coordination of campgrounds from
occupied areas. Not only men.
What is the current situation of the
settlements in Rondon?
The creation of settlements grew a new
economy in the city. Because of the workers’
rights assurance, more resources were sent to the
municipality. I mean, the money previously spent
with businesses in Rondon, now is assigned to
basic food basket aids, and to build houses in the
plots. That created another work front, beyond
wood exploration and cattle-raising. This change
was notorious for the town.
However, the situation of the settlements,
properly saying, is more complicated. There has
been slowness as to resources investment. In
addition, we need mechanized equipment to
ensure the production, once we are not allowed to
deforest because of the environment preservation
aspect. Therefore, investments need to be made.
66
We also need more investments in education.
A date for the creation of the settlements
across occupied areas has not been scheduled
yet. We keep fighting for them, though. Recently,
things became harder, and the interest in the
land reform nearly zeroed. The country has not
progressed in this area for the past couple of
years.
How could you be active both in the
fight for justice for Dezinho’s death, and
in the struggle for rural workers and for
land, being under threat?
Threats started in 2003, proportionally to the
speed the settlements spread out. Then I started
giving interviews on Dezinho’s death and to ask
that his murderers would be punished. I don’t
know where I got strength from. God guided me.
I always prayed for understanding; I prayed that
He would not allow me to fail. Divine force, my
comrades, and other entities that supported me
- all of them prevented me from giving up and
helped me achieve so much.
One of the biggest hardships I have been
through happened by the end of 2011, when the
man accused of being the mastermind behind
Dezinho’s death would be tried in Rondon.
The reason is that, in addition to open threats,
landowners have the power to move the society’s
opinion against you. That is what happened. I
had already spread our story all over Brazil and
the world at that time. I had gained a broad
visibility, I had won prizes on human rights, I had
talked about my situation in the UN and I had
participated in the Fantástico Show, from Rede
Globo TV channel. Regardless of that, I could not
be left alone.
Now that I am working as the regional
coordinator of FETAGRI of Pará, actions have
become increasingly difficult, because I started
working across other cities, as well: mobilizing
people, providing guidance, telling them what
can be done to improve their situation. This also
implies in a larger number of landowners against
me. They have more money, and more power.
Do you consider giving up the
struggle?
Honestly, I have already considered that. I have
been through a lot of fights, battles, and faced a
lot of prosecution. We built this story because I
did not lose courage. But I am not willing to die
like Dezinho. I have four grandchildren and I am
confident I’ll watch them grow.
Nevertheless, I don’t think it is time to quit
yet. The struggle must continue. I think we need
to show to Brazil that everyone is entitled with
the right to fight for their ideals, their dreams. I
am sure that we, Brazilians, are citizens with the
right to life. I am not fighting for anything bad,
but for life: my own life, my family’s and the lives
of the peasants’ families who seek for decent
means of living. This is what I want.
67
Rosivaldo Ferreira Dias
(Chieftain Babau)
“The sacred land should be preserved”
T
upinambá Rosivaldo Ferreira Dias,
Chieftain Babau, has an easy smile and
is a talented speaker. He knows the
history of his indigenous settlement in Serra do
Padeiro, Buerarema City, in the surroundings of
Ilhéus/Bahia, at the tip of his tongue. At the age
of 38, with two kids, he has been leading his
tribal organization, since 2000, in the struggle
to ensure their rights. His articulation and
organization power, as well as his entrepreneurial
spirit, enabled the reunion of about 900 people
from 180 families for a communitarian and
sustainable family-based agricultural production.
68
He coordinated 21 repossessions of lands
that had already been recognized as belonging
to his people. Three scars from gun shots prove
that the struggling is not always peaceful. He
suffered political oppression, criminal suits,
and he was arrested in 2010. Because of that,
he was admitted to the Protection Program for
Human Rights Defenders, aimed at ensuring
the continuance of his struggle for the right to
land and for the Tupinambá culture preservation.
However, none of that seems to lower his
willingness to lead the struggle that goes beyond
land possession issues, but which is also about
traditions, religious matters and environmental
preservation: according to the Tupinambás of
Serra, Serra do Padeiro is regarded as a sacred
land and should be fully and integrally returned
to its original inhabitants.
What is the history of the Tupinambá
people with the area, now the settlement
of Serra do Padeiro?
the deal and wait, because we had to grow
stronger, and we needed to ensure at least a
small portion of land.
All the area surrounding Ilhéus, and not only
Serra do Padeiro, has been marked with many
conflicts and battles for the Tupinambás lands
since the discovery of Brazil. We have been taught
about that from generation to generation. There
is a history of various fights, about the Jesuitical
settlements (ten in that region), slaughters,
tortures, diseases spread by non-indigenous, and
of non-abidance to agreements. The elderly told
us those stories and we passed them on to nonindigenous, but they would not believe us, they
said these were lies. We had to make a thorough
search for old documents to prove that we were
native indigenous and were entitled to the land
we lived on, where our ancestors lived before us.
As a result of the agreement, our land was
split among the indigenous people already there,
as well as among farmers. Ten hectares were
assigned to a family, five hectares to another,
and so on. However, the land was split among
indigenous and non-indigenous people alike.
Farmers were assigned the largest pieces of
land. Nowadays, 600 families own their land
plots across our territory. So, the situation of
our lands in Serra do Padeiro is set as follows:
one village with its Settlements (each land piece
assigned to indigenous families who represent a
Settlement), with private farms in between. We
want to remove the intruders the government has
put there in the past to dislodge them from our
territory, which is sacred.
All those battles were guided by the Bewitched
masters, who guided our people to fight or retreat
- depending on the situation, through rituals.
Serra do Padeiro has always been regarded as
a sacred land, home of the Bewitched. In the
1950s, my grandfather was the Shaman. The
government tried to dislodge our people from the
area, but they had no success. So, they offered
us a deal. Since we were in small number, due to
a malaria epidemic – which killed 66 thousand
people, the Bewitched told our people to accept
Who are the Bewitched?
In our religion, Tupã is the supreme god, and
he uses the Bewitched to communicate with
us. They are like direct messengers. They are
our guardian angels; they are our bewitched.
In the early 2000s, they said it was time for the
Tupinambás to claim for their land. In addition, it
was time to ensure protection to nature, because
we are protectors.
When I was chosen to lead my people, I asked
the Bewitched whom the land I would fight for
should belong to. They said that this would not be
a land for the living, but it would be their home,
the resting place for the many indigenous people
who were killed or left behind across Brazil. So,
I accepted the responsibility. That is, when you
lead the living, you can often be betrayed. That
is not possible. You can’t tell when someone will
be corrupted. Leading for the Bewitched is based
on the Tupinambá tradition: we are 80% spirit,
and only 20% matter. The sacred land must be
preserved. It is necessary for our survival.
Why were you chosen as the Chieftain
of Serra do Padeiro?
I must emphasize that the “morubixaba”
(the Chieftain) is not so important within the
settlement. The leading figure is represented by
the Shaman. However, he cannot perform rituals
and lead fights at the same time. Therefore, the
Chieftain is responsible for organizing the people.
Historically, our social organization does not
have a Chieftain. But in time, with the presence
of FUNAI (National Foundation for Indigenous
Peoples), we submitted to that, since it was
necessary to discuss indigenous rights outside
the settlement. Initially, they appointed someone
from the community, but that did not work. So, I
took over in 2004.
69
By that time you were a leading figure
in the community, right? How was the
process to make you the leader?
Well, I did not get here all of a sudden. Since
I was little, I used to be chosen to accompany
the elderly. So, I became knowledgeable on the
settlement’s history. When I was eight, we were
not allowed to study at white men’s school.
Three days before my grandfather, the Shaman,
passed, a Bewitched asked us to reunite the
family. He then stated that from that day on, me
and my other two brothers would study at the
white men’s school to learn their history, without
forgetting our origins. It was a mission we had
to accomplish to ensure our land in the future.
Then, we went to school.
As I grew older, it became harder to follow
the studies. I lived in the settlement, and left
early to work - often before sunrise, to load and
unload trucks with our production. I came back
home, late in the afternoon, and still had to go
to school, in the city. Next, I decided to study in
Cabrália, further South of Bahia. Because of the
strong connection we have with our homeland, I
returned to Serra do Padeiro once every fortnight.
I returned from Cabrália with documents and
proofs, and I checked all the information I had
learned from the elderly. I returned for good in
2001, to clarify our relatives about our rights.
First, we reunited to get organized and to learn
about the non-indigenous living in our lands.
Who were those non-indigenous
people?
We identified farmers - most of whom with
unproductive lands, who not even visited the
location, squatter families - with no registries on
the land, homeless people, and small holders like
70
ourselves - with small plots of lands registered
in the past. We reunited with these two and I
encouraged them to get organized, so that when
the Tupinambá claimed the lands, they would not
be forsaken.
After the identification process, what
did you do?
In addition, we started visiting other
settlements, where we found a lot of disbelief
and no mobilization. The indigenous were
fully dependant on the government, what the
Tupinambás of Serra never were. Apparently,
they lost their indigenous identity. For that reason,
besides the repossession activities, we created
the Cultural and Land Seminary of the Youths.
Growing was not enough. We wanted other ethnic
groups to also understand their role and to learn
about what was going on. It is worth saying that
we counted on the CIMI (Missionary Indigenous
Council) help, since we had never done anything
like that, but wanted to show our relatives (other
indigenous) how we were acting in Serra do
Padeiro. This caused other settlements to get
mobilized and to start their own rights struggle
processes.
When did the land repossessions
start?
People do not understand that the Tupinambás
of Serra do not indiscriminately occupy the land. In
2004, we had two repossessions of lands whose
owners were offensively usurping our territory,
indiscriminately extracting wood and hunting
wild animals. We then occupied the area to
prevent such attacks. Those were unproductive,
abandoned lands. Actually, nearly all of our 21
occupations were in similar situation.
At that moment, they had to come together,
and try to understand our culture. They thought
those were mere occupations, but we were
actually protecting an entire ecosystem. We are
not concerned about our lives only. The Bewitched
made us guardians of the area. Therefore, if
something goes wrong with the ecosystem, that
can affect us all. We do not have to solve Nature’s
problem. It is not simple.
Because of that, when we started the
repossession of the territories, our people became
stronger to a level that I had to hold them back,
so they would only repossess abandoned lands.
With the lands, we started planting, producing.
We have placed people to protect the forest and
to keep hunters away. We did things like fixing
drugs to make their dogs lose their sense of
smell. And they did. They were disoriented in the
settlement and we told hunters never to come
back. They did not.
What is the current economic
activity of the settlement? What is your
production system like?
We are an essentially agrarian people. We have
a communitarian production type since forever –
in the past, it has been considered as communist
and it was used to criminalize the Tupinambás.
We consider the settlement as a whole. A group
of indigenous people get together each day and
then they go to a certain crop, regardless of who
owns the area. We cultivate cocoa, pineapple,
cassava and plantain. After harvesting, the
Tupinambá Indigenous Association of Serra do
Padeiro sells the products and retains 30% of
the income to reinvest in materials and in other
needs of the settlement. The remaining 70% is
equally split among workers.
Since families are large, the resources are
still insufficient. We lead an excellent lifestyle,
as compared to other settlements. However, we
are still learning how to trade our production. We
need training. We used to be ripped off in the past
because we lacked commercial expertise. We
attended training. We started to train indigenous
people to deal with that. We built a well organized
association. To sum up: we are a very strong
organization. As a result, the criminalization
process started.
You mean, because
organization power?
of
your
Yes. Attacks began when they realized about
our organization power. Starting in 2008, more
specifically when we were well consolidated.
How could these indigenous people become
entrepreneurs, after all? The association was
prosecuted as an association among criminals,
which needs to be locked up. We are involved
in over 30 legal proceedings. In 2010, my
sister was arrested with a 2 months-old child
in her arms because she was the president of
the association, and she managed to hand a
document to the then President Lula, informing
against threats over the settlement. They started
referring to me as the South Bahia “Lampião” (T.
N.: famous outlaw, whose band terrorized the
Brazilian Northeast in the 1920s and 1930s).
They wanted to dismantle our social
organization, to level us to other indigenous –
i.e., dependant on the government’s basic food
basket aids. That was never us. We are a very
proud people.
71
How did your imprisonment affect
the organization?
It was not only about my imprisonment, but the
entire criminalization process and police attacks,
while my sister and I were in prison. We had a
schedule for every five years. If we had done all
as planned, each family would make a monthly
R$ 1,200.00 by 2010. You can lead a good life
on that. The continuous attacks during that year
cut down our resources to nearly R$ 160.00 per
month. We lost plantations and were forbidden to
trade the production. We were in a really difficult
situation. Precisely us, who had never asked
for anything. While we were in prison, we had
contact with representatives from the Protection
Program for Human Rights Defenders. We were
admitted to the program - that was a support
for our struggle. They helped us contact other
institutions. Then, the State acknowledged our
quest, our struggle for indigenous rights. Only by
2012 we started recovering.
On the other hand, those attacks allowed
us to realize how the Tupinambás of Serra are
esteemed. They are warriors, yet esteemed.
Organizations, universities and members of the
Congress, among others, mobilized against the
facts. Money cannot buy the acceptance real
Brazilians did and do offer to us.
72
What are your plans for the future?
We, the Tupinambás, never stop. We only
think of what the Indigenous Peoples deserve.
Now, we want to build an indigenous university
at a just-repossessed land, without conflicts
or fights. This land, by the way, already counts
on the proper infrastructure. Indigenous people
will never be respected and get an effectively
differentiated education, if there is not a university
especially tailored for them. Modular training and
things the government provides are not good for
us. Today, there are 26 indigenous lawyers, over
20 sociologists, nutritionists, and so on, in Brazil.
There are indigenous with college degree in a
variety of areas. Not having our own university,
enabling us to edit our own material and build
our own education is a tragedy. So, we bought
this struggle.
There are other improvement plans in force.
The road is under construction. We are building
up a bridge to connect the settlement to both
sides of the river. We intend to build a pastry
shop, and buy a depulper for fruits - cocoa
rate is low and we can sell processed fruit at
higher prices. We are considering the creation of
Tupinambá flour brand, which is recognized as
the best in the region. We also have dams in our
lands, where we can breed fish. There are many
things we can undertake. Support is all we need.
73
Saverio Paolillo (Priest Xavier)
“Our work is misunderstood”
B
orn in Italy, Priest Saverio Paolillo, better
known as Priest Xavier in Brazil, has
been working for the rights of Brazilian
children and adolescents since 1985. Along
50 years in this path, the priest has created
countless projects, both in São Paulo and in
Espírito Santo. Among his achievements, there
are shelters, homes, defense centers, monitored
freedom programs, professional training projects
and welfare work for sheltered boys’ and girls’
families or who are in an unlawful position.
As a member and coordinator of the Ministry
of the Minor, he has informed against countless
situations of human rights violations across
adolescents’ confinement units. He succeeded
in exposing the issue internationally, as he took
the subject to the attention of the Inter-American
Court of Human Rights. He also acted as a
moderator in innumerous conflicts and riots.
Priest Xavier is a member of the State
Council of Human Rights and the State Council
of Children and Adolescents Rights of Espiríto
Santo. He thinks that his work is misunderstood.
He suffers daily pressure for defending the rights
of a portion of the population; above all, in his
opinion they need public policies to put human
rights into effect.
How did you start dealing with
74
children and adolescents’ rights in
Brazil?
true street work, and getting a response to the
various challenges found.
I am a member of Comboni’s Missionaries
Congregation. I was a seminarian and had not yet
completed my theology studies. I read the LatinAmerican theological literature and became
familiar with the journey of the Base Ecclesiastical
Communities, and then I requested to complete
my studies in Brazil. I arrived in São Paulo in
November, 1985. Our educational center was in
Parque Santa Madalena, suburban area in the
East side of São Paulo. The aim was to provide
education for a community-inserted priesthood.
Thanks to the location, I could share the “favela”
(T. N.: a settlement of jerry-built shacks lying on
the outskirts of a Brazilian city) inhabitants’ way
of living. Since the work in place only focused
on children, we decided to approach adolescents
and youths across the region — most vulnerable
to drug traffic and criminality.
From this contact in the streets, we came
across prostitution among young children and
youths. We then created a temporary home
for female adolescents. We also developed
professional training, cultural workshops and
sports activities to tackle violence and crime, as
well as drug traffic and usage. To ensure religious
assistance for adolescents and youths deprived
from freedom, we started making weekly visits to
FEBEM (Institution for reforming young offenders)
and to jails in precincts. We prioritized two lines
of action: the street situation and transgressing
adolescents.
Experimentally, we accompanied adolescents
in the collection of cardboard, so we could better
grasp their reality, and to overcome their distrust
towards our job. This was a very interesting
experience, since it allowed us to enter the
world of those boys and girls. We could see the
suffering they had to face, especially as to the
discrimination caused by the situation they were
in. From that moment, we started developing a
The ECA (Child and Adolescent
Statute) did not exist back then, nor
there a series of attempts currently used
to appease the situation across these
socio-educational units. What was the
situation you found in FEBEM units like?
It was a complex one. Units were constantly
overcrowded. The adolescents were always
downcast, hands behind their backs. There
were few activities and they were idle most of
the time. They reported abuse, arbitrariness was
allegedly perpetrated within the units, either by
employees or other adolescents. The units were
the scenery of riots that left a track of destruction
and cruelties against hostages. The employees
work conditions were inhuman, as well.
After the new Federal Constitution was
enacted, we were fully involved in the process
of discussing and approving the ECA (Child
and Adolescent Statute). The CEDECA (Center
of Defense of Child and Adolescent Rights)
was founded in 1991. It is an organization that
cooperates with other institutions integrating the
Childhood and Adolescence Rights Assurance
System. Its mission is to make children and
adolescents human rights a reality. With the
CEDECA, we started offering legal, psychological
and welfare assistance. CEDECA’S biggest
dream was to make the Statute come true. We
wanted to provide children and adolescents with
tools enabling them to demand the assurance of
their rights through the new law.
However, our priority continued to be the
work with transgressing adolescents. We created
a program to execute the socio-educational
measure of LAC (Communitarian Monitored
Freedom). In 1987, LAC was created by the
Ministry of the Minor, long before ECA had been
enacted. It is a socio-educational measure that
features most favorable results, since it enables
for a socio-educational action that effectively
involves the community and the family in
assisting transgressing adolescents.
75
I suffered a lot of pressure at that time. I was
threatened a couple of times. I was accused
of being a “defender of criminals”. There was
a fierce game being played as an attempt to
disable our work. Actually, we have never been
condescending with violence and criminality.
On the contrary, we stood for legality and peace
culture. We wanted to do exactly the opposite. We
wanted to withdraw adolescents from criminality
through public policies enabling access to all
human rights.
I was transferred to Espírito Santo in 1999. In
São Paulo, everything is huge. I used to deal with
a really large number of adolescents doing time
in reformatories — some units with nearly 1200
boys — and a large number of young adults. I
thought I could then live a calmer life in a smaller
state.
Was it what you found?
No. When I got to Serra, in Espírito Santo
State - metropolitan region of Vitória Capital
City, I continued working with transgressing
adolescents, by visiting reformatories. The first
unit I visited was really small, with only 120
adolescents. Facilities were hideous.
Adolescents were locked in cells at precinctlike facilities. The building was old, located in a
residential area, which caused a strong hostility
from inhabitants due to riots, problems, and
shouting. I visited other units in similar situation.
That troubled me because they were less
numerous and it should not be difficult to solve
the problems.
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My visits created many conflicts, since I
began to visit the units on weekly basis. Besides
the ministry’s religious assistance, as a Human
Rights activist, I witnessed the adolescents’
situation, listened to their complaints and, based
on that, I wrote reports. From those reports
informing against irregularities, lack of material,
and Human Rights violation, by the end of 2002,
they determined a six months long intervention in
the agency that managed the units. There were
not time and conditions enough to improve the
situation. Rights violation continued. Regardless
of the good faith from the employees, it would
be impossible to perform a good job under such
conditions. Riots happened. I was called to help
with negotiations in some of them.
What was your role in the negotiation
process?
Our work was to mediate the conflicts. I
explained for the adolescents that I was not there
to make promises. I only requested immediate
release of hostages. I made it clear that I would
not negotiate during the riot, but only after
hostages were released. I understand the riot,
especially those with hostages, but damages
to the assets is a crime. All I promised after
the riot and release of hostages was to follow
police operations to prevent any sort of violent
retaliation. I just did not want to encourage the
idea that their rights could be ensured by holding
socio-educational agents or other adolescents as
hostages. As a defender of human rights I could
not tolerate any violence. In 2003, I started being
threatened, as a result of my actions across
reformatories. I spent a year under police escort.
What is the situation like today?
An institutional reorganization process took
place from 2003 to 2009. They endeavored to
adjust the units to the new legal paradigms, as
foreseen in the ECA. The actions were insufficient,
though. In 2009, due to persistent and severe
violations to human rights, in a joint effort with
the Global Justice organization and the Human
Rights Defense Center of Serra, we decided
to globally expose the problem of the socioeducational units across the state, generating
reports and looking to the Inter-American Court
of Human Rights. The matter was submitted to
the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, which
imposed temporary measures be in force until
the end of 2012.
Some things have already been changed,
especially as to the architectural adjustments
and to the decentralization of the units. Reports
on alleged tortures and abuse have been equally
reducing. All units now have an educational plan.
Adolescents have greater access to activities.
Employees now can better identify with their
jobs. The Court, the Prosecution Office, and the
Executive Power created an inter-institutional
system that, in partnership with the civil society,
is monitoring the work across units and looking
for solutions to challenges. We see there is
a collective endeavor to build a new socioeducational system. We continue following this
process.
Besides working directly with the
reformatory units, did you continue to
work with children living on the streets
of Espírito Santo?
Yes. Since I started working in Espírito
Santo, in partnership with other institutions,
we created a network of eight interconnected
projects, which provide temporary acceptance,
professional training and activities on longer
periods. Thousands of children and adolescents
have participated in our projects for the past 12
months. We have a website telling the story of
the network: <www.redeaica.com.br>.
Projects are not welfarist, but rather aimed
at contributing for the full development of
children and adolescents, so they live as ethical,
responsible, competent and solidary citizens.
Note that, by offering homes and shelters,
our objective is to try to resume family bonds,
get adolescents close to their families and to
the community again, as per the Child and
Adolescent Statute. If that is not possible, we look
for foster families, along with the Juvenile Court.
Late adoption is really difficult, though. Only
few couples are willing to adopt adolescents.
So, we also prepare them for an independent
life, both psychologically and emotionally, and
in an economic perspective, so they may lead
independent lives when they leave the project.
We also run a project that performs socioeducational actions of Communitarian Monitored
Freedom, where we assist 400 youths. Project
mission is to provide adolescents with support
to end their transgression actions through
instruments to arouse their respect by rules in
place and citizenship. The work involves families
and the community. That is an alternative for the
imprisonment of transgressing adolescents - low
and moderate levels of transgression.
Monitored Freedom is a socioeducational measure that, as per child
and adolescence movement, could be
further implemented in the country. In
your opinion, why isn’t that so?
Disbelief
towards
socio-educational
measures in open environments somewhat
derives from the society pressure, which
believes that violence should be fought mostly
through mass imprisonment. The adolescents
or “minors”, as they are normally referred to,
have become scapegoats, because all the
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responsibility for violence growth is imputed
to them. There is a massive propaganda by
communication means and segments of society
that ascribe responsibility to adolescents, while
disabling the Child and Adolescent Statute,
accusing it of fostering impunity. A good portion
of public opinion demands larger investments on
repression and defends massive imprisonment,
which affects the poorer, more vulnerable people
harder. That does not imply to say that the poor
is more of a criminal, but sadly where poverty
and rights violation prevail, criminality stands
out, and criminals can easily recruit resources for
their illegal activities. In those communities we
need more public policies implemented, aimed
at the emancipation, participation and citizenship
education of the youth, as well as aiming at youth
permanence at school.
Monitored freedom or community services
are undervalued socio-educational measures
because they have been discarded for lack of
investment. Such measures could certainly
be more effective and economically worth,
as compared to imprisonment, with more
investments, more professionals, teachers,
activities, training, workshops and other
initiatives. Above all, they do not generate the
traumas an imprisonment can cause to an
adolescent’s life, especially if this happens across
non-operating units. They become indelible
marks that increasingly tie these youths to the
criminal practice, strengthening violence rather
than reducing it.
Society does not realize that penitentiary
system and socio-educational strengthening
cannot re-socialize anyone. Actually, jails have
a boomerang effect. Most often, that is a waste
of money. It is an investment to bring up future
aggressors in the society.
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You have been working with children
and adolescents’ rights for a long time
in the country. How do you rate the
progress and challenges in this area?
I think that Brazil has progressed a lot in that
sense. They have created one of the best laws in
the world. There is a system of rights assurance
and an endeavor to enforce it. Additionally, the
country has universalized the access to Elementary
Education; it has an excellent vaccination
program, covering 100% of the children. Besides
cooperating to put children’s human rights into
effect, the Rights and Guardianship Council
ensure society’s effective participation in the
creation and monitoring of public policies. Thanks
to the collective creation of socio-educational
assistance, child labor elimination, and family
and community coexistence plans, it is possible
to offer tools to increasingly value the work with
children. In addition, the juvenile population living
on the streets has noticeably reduced, since I got
here. These are a few undeniable achievements
we have recently had.
The great challenge is to improve what has
been achieved: training on health and educational
assistance, offer professional training and work
on violence and drug dealing quests. This is one
of the biggest problems of Brazil. As we analyze
the number of victims, and sadly the number of
children and adolescents killed or murdered, we
realize there is an ongoing war in the country. For
that reason, we try to perform an in-depth work
to create a peace culture, a culture of non-violent
resolution of conflicts.
You mentioned that your actions
caused conflicts. Are there opposing
forces against the work you perform?
The work of human rights defenders is
misunderstood. A defender will suffer a really
strong psychological pressure. He is negatively
regarded. He is badly referred to in public all the
time. He is accused of “defending criminals”.
Actually, we do not defend criminality. Any sort
of violence against human beings affects us
all. However, I think that the civilization level of
a society can be determined by the respect it
demonstrates towards human rights.
Some socio-educational agents used to
receive me with distrust, during my visits to
reformatory units - regarding the imprisonments.
A defender of human rights is often identified
as the devil himself. It must be said that the
employees had their rights violated in some
situations. The role of a socio-educational and
penitentiary agent is not easy. They are often
victims of violence, as well, both from prisoners
and from the system itself, which condemn them
to inhuman work conditions. These situations
should not become an excuse for abuse, though.
It is fair that someone is ascribed responsibility
for his crimes, provided that this will not
compromise his own dignity, without losing hope
on his regeneration. As long as a human life is
disrespected, his physical and moral integrity, and
essential rights are not recognized or ensured,
there will be no room for individual dignity and a
heinous contribution to the society degradation
process will take place.
Human rights defenders are beaten up. By
the adolescents and convicted individuals who
ask for help and demand prompt responses. We
do not have the authority to solve their problems.
Sometimes, youths distrust our work, because
we cannot solve problems. They think we own
a wishing rod capable of changing things all
of a sudden. It is hard to live with that. This
is a complicated work, which aggrieves our
psychological and emotional balance to such a
degree that sometimes we need some time to
recover.
Some believe that human rights’ recognition
make ascribing responsibility and punishing
transgressors unfeasible, while soothing the
aggressors’ situation, and disregarding the
suffering of victims. That is not true. Human
Rights defenders are in solidarity with victims’
distress; they do not condescend with any types
of offenses, nor do they defend advantages for
their perpetrators. They are concerned about the
alarming raise of violence levels. Also, they suffer
the destructive effects of criminality themselves.
At the same time, they are permanently on the
alert to prevent the seriousness of a situation
from becoming an excuse for struggling against
violence through violent means.
Respect for dignity and struggle for human
rights defense should be everyone’s natural
disposition. They are a mandatory mission of
all human beings. Sadly, this is not true. The
incredible increase to violence rates and to life
depreciation are making human rights defense
an exception; a lonely struggle of a few idealists
based on ethical and religious values - who end
up being chased by segments of the society
that, due to bad faith or shallowness, associate
the human rights defense commitment with
protection of criminals. Misunderstandings
arousing from such dangerous equation need to
be demystified.
Do you regret anything you did in this
work?
Everyone makes mistakes. I have certainly
made many. However, I made them while trying
to help. I have always avoided being aggressive
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in my reports and was always very cautious
as to being non-judgmental. As an activist of
human rights, I have always emphasized the
precariousness of the work conditions of those
who deal with adolescents across reformatory
units or with prisoners - that is, socio-educational
and penitentiary agents. I recognize, however,
that employees and their claims should be given
due attention.
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We only dream of a socio-educational and
prison system that can effectively regenerate
individuals; one that complies with the mission
of regenerating individuals; and one that offers
activities for the imprisoned, and is more
humanized. We do not want a five-star hotel
for prisoners or confined adolescents like our
opponents accuse us of. We do want a system
that is worth the investments being made. The
amount of resources needed to keep reformatory
units is high. Such investment deserves an
effective return.
Socio-educational and penitentiary systems
shall be useful for society, as long as they
can produce individuals integrated to a social
reinsertion process, who resumed their belief
on human values, who have recovered their own
self-esteem, while recognizing and respecting
their own dignity and the dignity of others. This
prevents the individual from losing his human
dimension and from becoming
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
O
ur especial thanks to all those directly
or indirectly involved in making
this book, from its conception to its
final publication. Without your support, this
undertaking would not have been successful.
For all the support we had in our contact with
the ten leaders featured in this publication, we
extend our congratulations to the Coordinators
of the State Protection Program for Human
Rights Defenders, Mr. José Antônio Carvalho,
by the state of Bahia; Mrs. Tassiana Lima, by
the state of Ceará; Mrs. Marta Falqueto, by
the state of Espírito Santo, Mrs. Maria Emília
Silva, by the state of Minas Gerais; Mrs. Camila
Dias Cavalcanti and Mr. Luiz Marcos Carvalho,
Coordinators of the Federal Technical Team of the
Protection Program for Human Rights Defenders.
We are grateful for the participation of the
Secretariat of Human Rights of the Presidency
of Brazil, represented by Mr. Biel Rocha, National
Secretary for the Promotion and Defense of
Human Rights, and by the Director, Mrs. Luciana
Garcia; by Mr. Igo Martini, General Coordinator
of the Protection Program for Human Rights
Defenders, and by the Coordinators, Mrs. Renata
Sena and Mrs. Raiana Falcão; by Mr. Bruno Renato
Teixeira, National Human Rights Ombudsman; by
Mrs. Tassia Rabelo de Pinho, General Coordinator
of the Council for the Defense of the Rights of
the Human Person; by Mrs. Michelle Morais de
Sá e Silva, General Coordinator for Monitoring
of International Cooperation Projects, and by the
Technical Advisor, Mr. Pedro Henrique Angoti de
Moraes.
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Equally noteworthy is the earnest work of
the Delegation of the European Union in Brazil,
represented by Ambassador Ana Paula Zacarias,
with the support of Mrs. Maria Rosa Sabbatelli,
Cooperation Advisor, and Nathalie Jellinek,
head of the Political Section. We also thank the
National Board of the Supporting Project for
Sector Dialogues of the Ministry of Planning,
Budget and Management, for all their endeavors
towards the accomplishment of this publication,
and other activities related to the management
of the Project.
Special mention is made as to the essential
role in the completion of this book played by the
Embassy of the Kingdom of the Netherlands,
represented by Mr. Kees Rade, Ambassador and
Plenipotentiary, and Mr. Levi Nietvelt, Secretary
for Political Affairs; and, by the United Nations
Program for Development, herein represented
by the Coordinators Mrs. Larissa Vieira Leite and
Mrs. Maria Leticia Barrios Trullols.
Last but not least, we thank Mr. Carlos
Eduardo da Cunha Oliveira, Head of Human
Rights Division of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs,
for his kind support in the work to accomplish
this book.
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