Ana Leila Gonçalves fights her way to a rickety table in the crowd. Behind them are numerous people in need of help, especially mothers with children. Gonçalves gives some instructions and then starts handing out slices of cake in plastic bags. 71 years old, she runs a social welfare organization on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro and can use a building belonging to the Catholic Church for this purpose. There is also a small health station, Jiu-Jitsu classes and a children’s group. Most, Gonçalves says, come to eat. The Jacutinga neighborhood is in the Baixada Fluminense, an area north of the city. It takes a good hour from here to get to the world-famous beaches of Rio de Janeiro. Jacutinga is felt to be much further away from the postcard motifs of the sugar loaf metropolis. It is one of the poorest and most violent neighborhoods in the state, ruled by paramilitary militias. But nobody wants to talk about the “parallel power”, too dangerous. At the end of November, a toddler died in a shootout.
Leila Gonçalves ended up in Jacutinga 30 years ago, today she lives in a small brick house in the middle of the district, a warm person with a direct, hands-on manner. She describes herself as the “district psychologist”, who is aware of the problems of the residents because she’s had enough of it herself. Your pension is barely enough to survive. Before the pandemic, she used to do the cleaning on the side, but since it turned into a crisis, that’s no longer possible. Almost everyone in Jacutinga lost their jobs – with what consequence? Gonçalves doesn’t hesitate for a second with the answer: “Hunger.” 31 million people are currently affected in the largest country in Latin America, 15 percent of the population, found the research group “Food for Justice”, which is based at the Latin America Institute in Berlin. 59.4 percent of the population are affected by “food insecurity”. This means that regular access to food in sufficient quantity or quality is at risk.
What Lula had done
Not long ago, the country celebrated spectacular successes against hunger. In the noughties, the ruling Partido dos Trabalhadores (PT) invested heavily in social programs. “If by the end of my term every Brazilian can eat three meals a day, then I will have fulfilled my life’s work,” said then-President Lula da Silva. The politician with the hoarse voice knew what he was talking about, as he came from a poor family and left the starving northeast for São Paulo as a child. As president, he made the fight against hunger a top priority and launched an ambitious zero-hunger program. With success, because in 2014 the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) removed the country from the world hunger map. For many a symbolic act, Brazil seemed to have arrived in the club of the greats, at least that’s what one thought.
But then the country slipped into an economic crisis and political turmoil, culminating in Lula’s successor Dilma Rousseff losing the presidency in 2016 in a right-wing impeachment process. What followed was neoliberal shock therapy. The government of interim President Michel Temer cut social benefits, capped the budget, and the state withdrew more and more. Hunger is always a political decision and a question of distribution, wrote the doctor and writer Josué de Castro in his book published in 1947 geography of hunger. This is also clear under the ultra-right head of state Jair Bolsonaro (in office since January 2019). One man is primarily responsible for the austerity course he is pursuing: Economy Minister Paulo Guedes. The 72-year-old, once an economist and investment banker, is a neoliberal as it stands. He studied at the Chicago School, worked for the military dictatorship in Chile and founded radical market think tanks in Brazil.
Although Congress approved direct financial aid for informal workers at the beginning of the pandemic, the funds were only approved under pressure from the left-wing opposition, and payments have long since stopped. In any case, the Bolsonaro government is not pursuing any specific policy to combat hunger. One of their first acts was to abolish the National Council on Food Security (Consea). Bolsonaro’s destructive environmental policies and proximity to powerful agribusiness come at the expense of indigenous and traditional communities’ habitats. As a result, many lose resources to feed themselves and others. No wonder when the misery in the country is visible everywhere. You can see families living in tents on street corners. In the supermarket, young mothers beg to buy their baby a carton of milk. There are people who subsist on meat scraps, and there are school children who collapse in the classroom without being fed enough. With inflation skyrocketing, everyday things have become luxuries for many. The consumption of beef, something of a social indicator for Brazil, has recently fallen massively. The researchers at the Latin America Institute in Berlin are also concerned about the quality of the diet. The consequences are obesity, diabetes and high blood pressure. The study by the Food for Justice research group also shows that black single mothers are particularly vulnerable to starvation.
People like Suelen Martins Machado. The 33-year-old lives with seven children in a tiny, dark house in Jacutinga. This morning she is again in line at Leila Gonçalves’ registry, although there is only cake. The main thing is something. Before the pandemic, Machado set up buffet tables, washed plates and poured drinks for an events company. Money was scarce, but somehow enough to survive. When the first ones were taken to the hospitals with shortness of breath, she too lost her job. From one day to the next the fridge was empty. Have you ever suffered from hunger? “I would be lying if I said no.”
Leila Gonçalves has heard many such stories. Without people like her, famine would have broken out long ago, she is convinced. “We take on the task of the state.” In addition to church associations, it is mainly left-wing groups that provide help. The Movement of the Homeless (MTST) maintains solidarity kitchens in some cities, which the Landless (MST) produces and donates food. But it is not enough to absorb the need. Gonçalves leads into a light-flooded room with a large cross in which packages are stored, pasta, rice, oil – a company donation, only the bare essentials. When the pandemic began, more was given, but the willingness to help has decreased because the middle class is also beginning to feel that the crisis is not sparing them. Gonçalves believes the worst is yet to come.
Meanwhile, President Bolsonaro has launched a new social program. It is called “Auxílio Brasil” (Help Brazil) and replaces the “Bolsa Família” program introduced under Lula da Silva. According to experts, however, fewer people are reached in this way, and the state funds are hardly sufficient for a dignified life. Leila Gonçalves is also skeptical. “Bolsonaro wants to let us starve after all.” In October’s upcoming presidential election, she will vote for Lula, who is expected to run again. In 2019, the chief justices annulled all four sentences imposed on the former head of state for alleged money laundering, embezzlement and passive corruption.
It’s entirely possible that Bolsonaro and Lula will face each other in a runoff. Quite a few expect that until then the social question will determine the debates. During the 2018 election campaign, Jair Bolsonaro managed to capitalize on many Brazilians’ dissatisfaction with the political class. He relied on fake news, portrayed himself as a fighter for morality and order, and won more than 55 percent against Fernando Haddad of the Labor Party. However, it is more than questionable whether the ailing Bolsonaro will achieve such a result again. Many Brazilians may make a “gut decision”. If they go to the polls on an empty stomach, things could get tight for the incumbent.