Despite the commodity boom, Brazil is close to boiling point

People have lost faith in the political process 

By Daniel Hannan

How should a government respond when it is the target of nationwide protests? Swedish leaders reacted by wringing their hands and empathising, Turks by calling counter-demonstrations, Syrians by shooting the demonstrators.

The most original response has come from the President of Brazil, Dilma Rousseff, who brazenly co-opted the protesters to her cause. “The size of the demonstrations”, she said, “shows the energy of our democracy, the strength of the voice of the streets and the civility of our population.” Brazilians are certainly civil: you won’t find a cheerier, more relaxed people in the Western hemisphere. Yet they have taken to the streets in their hundreds of thousands – and, despite President Rousseff’s words, not entirely peacefully.

Brazil, the B of the BRIC countries, is now the seventh largest economy on earth. Yet, despite the commodity boom that has lifted the entire continent, its economy is stalling. Is the unrest economic? Not entirely: there has been a decade of growth and unemployment is low. The protests began over notionally financial issues – bus fares and the cost of hosting the Fifa World Cup – but they soon became a vehicle for anyone who was unhappy about anything.

If the unrest turns violent, disorder becomes self-reinforcing. In any population, potential looters outnumber police. Law enforcement works on the theory that not all the looters will go on a spree at the same moment – just as banking rests on the assumption that we won’t all simultaneously withdraw our deposits. When the hoodies realise that the forces of order are overstretched – during a blackout, for example – pillaging usually follows.

Television images of riots signal to every potential looter that the police have their hands full. It’s what caused the disruption in London two years ago; and Stockholm last month; in Istanbul last week; in São Paulo this week.

Why the pent-up frustration in Brazil? Largely because, as in much of South America, people have lost faith in the political process. Across the region, military regimes gave way in the late Eighties to civilians. Free-market politicians had their chance in the Nineties and blew it, presiding over corruption and cronyism. In country after country, voters turned in despair to the populist Left: Hugo Chávez in Venezuela, Evo Morales in Bolivia, Rafael Correa in Ecuador, Cristina Kirchner in Argentina, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, president Rousseff’s charismatic patron, in Brazil.

The pattern was always the same. The new leaders proved anti-parliamentary rather than anti-democratic, removing constraints on their power, but retaining the popular touch. Part of their technique was to distract their electorates by constantly picking fights: with the IMF, with the World Bank, with the US, with Britain and, when all else failed, with each other.

For a while, it worked. People were happy to re-elect the populists, simply on grounds that they were not the old partitocracy. The surge in oil and food export revenues muffled the impact of their policies. Sooner or later, though, as with all socialist governments, the money was bound to run out. Brazil has reached that moment now, and Brazilians sense it. Prices for many consumer goods are higher than in London, and growth is stuttering to a halt. Not that Brazilians seem minded to change the system; they’d rather keep what they have, sulkily, cynically, frustratedly.

Lula, the Leftist president who utterly dominated Brazilian politics between 2003 and 2011, was as mesmerising a leader as any in the region. Like a conjurer, he kept his countrymen enchanted by force of personality. After the accession of his protégée, President Rousseff, the prestidigitation wore off. As the light flooded in, things looked suddenly tawdry. Vast wealth has flowed into the country, yet people don’t feel any better off. Small wonder they are unimpressed.