Nos últimos 150 anos, já tentaram de tudo para a ‘cura gay’, diz livro (Folha de S.Paulo)

14/05/2013 - 16h32

da Livraria da Folha

A tentativa de transformar homossexuais em héteros usando métodos “científicos” já tem mais de 150 anos. A medicina, segundo os pesquisadores James Naylor Green e Ronaldo Polito, já tentou de tudo para “curá-los”.

“Confinamento, choques elétricos, medicação pesada, tratamento psicológico ou psiquiátrico, psicanálise individual, de grupo e familiar, camisa de força, transplante de testículos, eis aí algumas das “técnicas” de intervenção no corpo e na mente dos homens que preferem se relacionar afetiva e sexualmente com outros homens”, contam em “Frescos Trópicos”.

O título faz parte da coleção “Baú de Histórias”, coordenada pela historiadora Mary Del Priore, autora “Histórias Íntimas”“Ancestrais: Uma Introdução à História da África Atlântica”“A Família no Brasil Colonial”“500 Anos Brasil: Histórias e Reflexões“Festas e Utopias no Brasil Colonial” e“Matar para Não Morrer” e do recém-lançado “O Castelo de Papel”.

No livro, os autores examinam o período entre as décadas de 1870 e 1980, fundamentados em informações publicadas nessa época. Abaixo, leia trecho de “Frescos Trópicos”.

 

Acompanha o surgimento lento de uma consciência sobre a homossexualidade “Pode-se dizer que a medicina, nos últimos 150 anos, já tentou ou propôs de tudo para a “cura” dos homossexuais. Confinamento, choques elétricos, medicação pesada, tratamento psicológico ou psiquiátrico, psicanálise individual, de grupo e familiar, camisa de força, transplante de testículos, eis aí algumas das “técnicas” de intervenção no corpo e na mente dos homens que preferem se relacionar afetiva e sexualmente com outros homens.

Entre inúmeros exemplos do passado, citemos Pires de Almeira, em “Homossexualismo”, de 1906, que propõe um tratamento específico para os invertidos. Mas, primeiro, vamos entender o que ele chama de “invertido”: “é aquele que, de nascença, é já invertivo, e que, em toda a associação sexual, representa o papel de macho: é, pois, um macho mais macho, se se trata de um homem”. “Invertidos”, portanto, nascem homossexuais, diferentemente dos “pervertidos” que, segundo o autor, “depois de terem sido já sexuais normais, se tornaram invertidos por qualquer motivo”.

Para Pires de Almeida, o tratamento dos “pervertidos” é somente um pouco mais simples do que dos “invertidos”. Para estes ele recomenda, entre outros procedimentos:

“O invertido deveria ser acompanhado desde a infância, vigiado por uma espécie de tutor que, à feição de um aparelho ortopédico moral, fosse-lhe obstáculo ao desvio, trabalhando pertinentemente para que a consolidação se efetue em absoluto. (…)

Antes de tudo, devemos lembrar que tais desregramentos são puramente moléstias mentais; e, por isso, aconselharei, quando não tenhamos acompanhando o indivíduo desde a infância, e hajamos iniciado o tratamento em idade tardia, medicá-lo pela estética sugestiva; isto é, por meio do magnetismo e da sugestão combinados: bem orientar-lhe o espírito, dirigindo sua atenção para a beleza das formas femininas, cercá-lo de modelos célebres em pintura, na estatuária principalmente, e obrigá-lo à leitura de obras românticas em que tais belezas despertem as paixões tumultuosas. Facilitar-se-lhe-á o encontro com mulheres plasticamente sensuais, fáceis às carícias, graciosas, faceiras; não se hesitará até diante de certos subterfúrgios a princípio, tal como, por exemplo, o de provocar o coito do invertido com mulheres vestidas de homem; ou mesmo obrigá-lo a pernoitar com mulheres completamente nuas, ainda que não as goze.

Se, porém, existe, da parte do doente, repulsão invencível para as sociedades ambíguas, recorrer-se-á à convivência em outro meio: mulheres atraentes, sim, porém puras, puríssimas, virtuosas: o seio perfumado das famílias.”

“Frescos Trópicos”
Autores: Ronald Polito, James Naylor Green
Editora: José Olympio
Páginas: 196
Quanto: R$ 23,90 (preço promocional*)
Onde comprar: pelo telefone 0800-140090 ou pelo site da Livraria da Folha

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Black and White and Red All Over (Foreign Policy)

How the hyperkinetic media is breeding a new generation of terrorists.

BY SCOTT ATRAN | APRIL 22, 2013

“Americans refuse to be terrorized,” declared President Barack Obama in the aftermath of the Boston Marathon bombings. “Ultimately, that’s what we’ll remember from this week.” Believe that, and I’ve got a bridge to sell you in Brooklyn.

The Boston bombings have provoked the most intense display of law enforcement and media coverage since the 9/11 attacks. Greater Boston was in full lockdown: “a ghost town,” “a city in terror,” “a war zone,” screamed the headlines. Public transit was stopped, a no-fly zone proclaimed, people told to stay indoors, schools and universities closed, and hundreds of FBI agents pulled from other pressing investigations to focus exclusively on the case — along with thousands upon thousands of other federal, state, and city agents equipped with heavy weapons and armored vehicles. It all came close to martial law, with all the tools of the security state mobilized to track down a pair of young immigrants with low-tech explosives and small arms who failed to reconcile their problems of identity and became suspected amateur terrorists.

Not that the events weren’t shocking and brutal. But this law enforcement and media response, of course, is part of the overall U.S. reaction to terrorism since 9/11, when perhaps never in history have so few, armed with so few means, caused so much fear in so many. Indeed, as with the anarchists a century ago, last week’s response is precisely the outsized reaction that sponsors of terrorism have always counted on in order to terrorize.

Nothing compares to the grief of parents whose child has been murdered like 8-year-old Martin Richard, except perhaps the collective grief of many parents, as for the 20 children killed in last December’s school massacre in Newtown, Conn. Yet, despite the fact that the probability of a child, or anyone else in the United States, being killed by a terrorist bomb is vastly smaller than being killed by an unregistered handgun — or even by an unregulated fertilizer plant – U.S. politicians and the public seem likely to continue to support uncritically the extravagant measures associated with an irrational policy of “zero tolerance” for terrorism, as opposed to much-more-than-zero tolerance for nearly all other threats of violence. Given the millions of dollars already spent on the Boston bombing investigation and the trillions that the national response to terrorism has cost in little more than a decade, the public deserves a more reasoned response. We can never, ever be absolutely safe, no matter how much treasure we spend or how many civil liberties we sacrifice.

While there is always the chance that investigators will find foreign connections and broader plots beyond the doings of the two men suspected in the Boston bombing, our knowledge about terrorism suggests that what we already know about the April 15 bombing does not justify the disproportionate and overwrought response, including the ”global security alert” U.S. authorities issued through Interpol for 190 countries. Even if the suspected Boston bombers prove to be part of a larger network of jihadi wannabes, as were the 2005 London subway suicide bombers, or had planned more operations before dying in a blaze of glory, as did the 2004 Madrid train bombers, these would-be knights under the prophet’s banner could never alone wreak the havoc that our reaction to them does.

The brothers Tsarnaev, the suspected Boston bombers, have been described by neighbors, friends, and relatives as fairly normal young men — regular Cambridge kinds. They left the Chechen conflict years ago and immigrated to the United States as asylum seekers under the U.S. government’s refugee resettlement program. Tamerlan, the oldest, was married with a 3-year-old daughter. A former Golden Gloves heavyweight boxer who once thought of competing for the United States, he had been increasingly drawn to radical Islam in the last few years. In a photo essay about his fondness for boxing, he worried, “I don’t have a single American friend; I don’t understand them.” He complained, “There are no values anymore,” forswearing drinking because “God said no alcohol.” Tamerlan’s YouTube page posts videos of radical Islamic clerics from Chechnya and elsewhere haranguing the West as bombs explode in the background. In 2011, the FBI interviewed Tamerlan at Russia’s request about connections to Chechen extremists, but the investigation found “no derogatory information.” Although Russian forces withdrew from Chechnya in 2009, violence has persisted in neighboring Dagestan, where Tamerlan visited his father last year and perhaps linked up with jihadi instigators who motivated him to act. Like the father of 9/11 pilot bomber Mohamed Atta, Tamerlan’s father claims his boy was framed and murdered. In his last reported phone communication, on Thursday, just hours before the police shootout began, he called his mother.

The younger brother, Dzhokhar, a sophomore at the University of Massachusetts in Dartmouth, played intramural soccer. On the day after the bombing he went to the dorms, worked out at the gym, and that night went to a party attended by some of his soccer buddies. Known to his friends as Jahar, he entered the university on a scholarship but lately had been failing his classes. He hung out with other students, had an easy relationship with the other young men and women, hardly ever talked politics, and was never pegged as an Islamist activist or sympathizer or even as particularly religious. Whereas relatives, friends, and teachers consistently describe Jahar as “always smiling,” “with a heart of gold,” acquaintances say Tamerlan never smiled and was aggressive. One cousin said he warned Jahar about being susceptible to the negative influence of the older brother he loved. In the last few months, Jahar’s tweets began turning darker: ”i won’t run i’ll just gun you all out #thugliving,” “Do I look like that much of a softy … little do these dogs know they’re barking at a lion,” “I killed Abe Lincoln during my two hour nap #intensedream.” But declaring this wayward killer — and a naturalized citizen, at that — an “enemy combatant” borders on Orwellian.

Under sponsorship by the Defense Department, my multidisciplinary, multinational research team has been conducting field studies and analyses of the mental and social processes involved in radicalization at home and abroad. Our findings indicate that terrorist plotters against Western civilian populations tend not to be parts of sophisticated, foreign-based command-and-control organizations. Rather, they belong to loose, homegrown networks of family and friends who die not just for a cause, but for each other. Jihadists pretty much span the population’s normal distribution: There are very few psychopaths and sociopaths, few brilliant thinkers and strategists. Jihadi wannabes today are mostly emerging adults in transitional stages of their lives — students, immigrants, in search of jobs or companions — who are especially prone to movements that promise a meaningful cause, camaraderie, adventure, and glory. Most have a secular education, becoming “born again” into the jihadi cause in their late teens or 20s. The path to radicalization can take years, months, or just days, depending on personal vulnerabilities and the influence of others. Occasionally there is a hookup with a relative, or a friend of a friend, who has some overseas connection to someone who can get them a bit of training and motivation to pack a bag of explosives or pull a trigger, but the Internet and social media are usually sufficient for radicalization and even operational preparation.

The result is not a hierarchic, centrally commanded terrorist movement but a decentralized, self-organizing, and constantly evolving complex of social networks based on contingent adaptations to changing events. These are no real “cells,” but only clusters of mostly young men who motivate one another within “brotherhoods” of real and fictive kin. Often, in fact, there is an older brother figure, a dominant personality who mobilizes others in the group. But rarely is there an overriding authority or father figure. (Notably, for these transitional youth, there’s often an absence of a real father).

Some of the most successful plots, such as the Madrid and London bombings, are so anarchic, fluid, and improbable that they succeeded in evading detection despite the fact that intelligence and law enforcement agencies had been following some of the actors for some time. Three key elements characterize the “organized anarchy” that typifies modern violent Islamic activism: Ultimate goals are vague and superficial (often no deeper than revenge against perceived injustice against Muslims around the world); modes of action are decided pragmatically on the basis of trial and error or based on the residue of learning from accidents of past experience; and those who join are not recruited but are locally linked self-seekers — often from the same family, neighborhood, or Internet chat room — whose connection to global jihad is more virtual than material. Al Qaeda and associates do not so much recruit as attract disaffected individuals who have already decided to embark on the path to violent extremism with the help of family, friends, or a few fellow travelers.

Like the young men who carried out the Madrid and London attacks, most homegrown jihadi plotters first hook up with the broad protest sentiment against “the global attack on Islam” before moving into a narrower parallel universe. They cut ties with former companions who they believe are too timid to act and cement bonds with those who are willing to strike. They emerge from their cocoon with strong commitment to strike and die if necessary, but without any clear contingency planning for what might happen after the initial attack.

For the first time in history, a massive, media-driven political awakening has been occurring — spurred by the advent of the Internet, social media, and cable television — that can, on the one hand, motivate universal respect for human rights while, on the other, enable, say, Muslims from Borneo to sacrifice themselves for Palestine, Afghanistan, or Chechnya (despite almost no contact or shared history for the last 50,000 years or so). When perceived global injustice resonates with frustrated personal aspirations, moral outrage gives universal meaning and provides the push to radicalization and violent action.

But the popular notion of a “clash of civilizations” between Islam and the West is woefully misleading. Violent extremism represents not the resurgence of traditional cultures, but their collapse, as young people unmoored from millennial traditions flail about in search of a social identity that gives personal significance. This is the dark side of globalization.

Take Faisal Shahzad, the would-be bomber of Times Square in 2010, or Maj. Nidal Hasan, who killed 13 fellow soldiers at Fort Hood in 2009. Both were apparently inspired by the online rhetoric of Anwar al-Awlaki, a former preacher at a Northern Virginia mosque who was killed by a U.S. drone in Yemen in 2011. Although many commentators leapt to the conclusion that Awlaki and his ilk deviously brainwashed and recruited Shahzad and Hassan, in fact they sought out the popular Internet preacher because they were already radicalized to the point of wanting further guidance to act. As Defense Department terrorism consultant Marc Sageman notes: “Just like you saw Major Hasan send 21 emails to al-Awlaki, who sends him two back, you have people seeking these guys and asking them for advice.” More than 80 percent of plots in both Europe and the United States were concocted from the bottom up by mostly young people just hooking up with one another.

Especially for young men, mortal combat with a “band of brothers” in the service of a great cause is both the ultimate adventure and a road to esteem in the hearts of their peers. For many disaffected souls today, jihad is a heroic cause — a promise that anyone from anywhere can make a mark against the most powerful country in the history of the world. But because would-be jihadists best thrive and act in small groups and among networks of family and friends — not in large movements or armies — their threat can only match their ambitions if fueled way beyond actual strength. And publicity is the oxygen that fires modern terrorism.

It is not by arraying “every element of our national power” against would-be jihadists and those who inspire them that violent extremism will be stopped, as Obama once declared. Although wide-ranging intelligence, good police work, and security preparedness (including by the military and law enforcement) is required to track and thwart the expansion of al Qaeda affiliates into the Arabian Peninsula, Syria (and perhaps Jordan), North Africa, and East Africa, this is insufficient. As 2012 U.S. presidential candidate Mitt Romney quipped, “We can’t kill our way out of this mess.” In the United States, there are many pockets of displaced immigrant and refugee young people with even more than the usual struggles of personal development. Young Somalis seem to be having particular difficulty, and a small few are moving to the path of violent jihad. This is a good time to think about how we relate to them, though there are probably more easy mistakes than easy solutions. But political attempts to relate these problems to the very different issue of illegal immigration only adds to the scaremongering.

We need to pay attention to what makes these young men want to die to kill, by listening to their families and friends, trying to engage them on the Internet, and seeing whom they idolize, how they organize, what bonds them, and what drives them. U.S. power won’t stop the self-seeking, and preaching “moderate” Islam (or moderate anything) is hardly likely to sway young men in search of significance and glory. And even if every airplane passenger were to be scanned naked or every American city locked down, it would not stop young men from joining the jihad or concocting new ways of killing civilians.

Terrorists are directly responsible for violent acts, but only indirectly for the reaction that follows. Objectively, terrorist acts on even a 9/11 scale could never seriously harm American society; only our reaction can. By amplifying and connecting relatively sporadic terrorist acts into a generalized “war” or “assault on freedom,” the somewhat marginal phenomenon of terrorism has become a primary preoccupation of the U.S. government and American people. In this sense, Osama bin Laden has been victorious beyond his wildest dreams — not because of anything he has done, but because of how we have reacted to the episodic successes he inspires.

There are several ways to react to the political hype and media amplification of terrorism. Doing nothing and allowing this frenzied media environment to continue will only encourage future attacks; meanwhile, reporting that rushes to judgment and complements law enforcement’s denial of Miranda rights will only erode confidence in the integrity and fairness of the American press and U.S. government institutions. Legal regulation of media, as in many other countries, may not be compatible with a free society and if tried would certainly provoke persistent opposition and deep outrage. For example, previous attempts by the British government to ban interviews with terrorists and their supporters backfired. As the 6th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals noted in 2002, “Democracies die behind closed doors.” Even noncoercive guidelines are likely to incite widespread resistance. As former New York Times Executive Editor A.M. Rosenthal put it: “The last thing in the world I want is guidelines. I don’t want guidelines from the government … or anyone else.”

But voluntary self-restraint by the media, which is less intrusive and supported by many, is not only possible but manageable. (Venerable journalist Edward R. Murrow, informed by President Franklin D. Roosevelt on the specifics of the Pearl Harbor attack, declined the scoop and didn’t file his report until the administration could formulate a reasoned response.) Of course, “gentle censorship,” like the initially successful attempts by George W. Bush’s administration to prevent airing of bin Laden messages or talks with terrorists, can seriously hamper the flow of knowledge necessary for understanding what makes terrorists tick and how to thwart them.

The First Amendment enables the news media to watchdog the republic and help prevent government excesses and abuses so that a well-informed public can monitor and decide where government policy should go. Yet the media is increasingly less a public service devoted to this task than a competitive business that believes it best succeeds through sensation, which violence privileges. For example, the typical television news story has declined from an average of several minutes in the 1950s and 1960s to today’s repeated sound bites – often no more than a few seconds – that sensationalize the spectacular. And despite the fact that one of the suspected Boston bombers is now dead and the other in custody, it can be argued that their terrorism succeeded through the spectacular theater of last week’s events, capturing our attention and stoking our deepest fears.

We can break this real, if unplanned, alliance between terrorism and the media through better reporting for the social good, which may prove to be the best business strategy of all. When we practice restraint and show the resilience of people carrying on with their lives even in the face of atrocities like that in Boston, then terrorism fails.

Scott Atran, an anthropologist at John Jay College, the University of Michigan, and Oxford University, is co-founder of ARTIS Research and author of Talking to the Enemy.

Índios isolados, trabalhadores em fuga: um encontro amazônico (Yahoo Notícias)

Por Ana Aranha | Reportagem 3 por 4 – 18.abr.2013

Os seis trabalhadores da construção civil estavam perdidos em meio à floresta amazônica, no norte de Rondônia. Algumas horas antes, eles tinham corrido mato a dentro para fugir do caos que tomara o canteiro de obras da usina hidrelétrica de Jirau, onde a Polícia Militar reprimia o movimento grevista, em 2011. Depois de andar cerca de seis quilômetros, o grupo tentava encontrar o caminho de volta à obra, ou a estrada, ou qualquer sinal de urbanidade. Sem sucesso.

Ao invés disso, foram encontrados.

Sem perceber que estavam sendo cercados, os trabalhadores uniformizados se viram rodeados por oito índios nus. Eles tinham o rosto e corpo pintados, flechas em punho e “murmuravam” palavras em uma língua que os trabalhadores não conheciam. Mas logo interpretaram o sentido: estavam rendidos.

Índios isolados no Acre, fotografados pela Funai em 2008

Hoje, excepcionalmente, esse espaço não será dedicado a um retrato, mas a um encontro. Encontro que pode servir de pista para compor o retrato dos povos indígenas que habitam o nosso país e os quais temos tanta dificuldade de entender.

Assustados, os trabalhadores da usina se comportaram como prisioneiros dos índios. Seguiram seus passos e pararam quando eles sinalizaram. O coração disparava a cada vez que os índios se reuniam em círculo. Observaram a construção de uma espécie de churrasqueira com gravetos, onde um porco do mato foi assado. Disfarçando o mal estar, comeram cada pedaço de carne que lhes foi oferecido. À noite, um dos trabalhadores foi repreendido pelos colegas por espiar os seios da índia mais nova, a regra era olhar para o chão.

A madrugada avançou, alguns índios deitaram e adormeceram. Os trabalhadores ficaram alertas. Pela manhã, caminharam até chegar a um local onde se ouvia um barulho familiar. Os índios sinalizaram em direção ao som, disseram algumas frases que ninguém entendeu e foram embora. Os trabalhadores correram na direção indicada até que, exaustos, chegaram à rodovia federal BR 364.

Esse relato foi registrado pela historiadora Ivaneide Bandeira Cardozo, da ONG indigenista Kanindé, que entrevistou um dos trabalhadores na presença de um funcionário da Funai (Fundação Nacional do Índio). Ela acredita que os homens e mulheres descritos sejam parte de um grupo que a entidade e a Funai tentam rastrear há anos. “Pela descrição, parecem ser Kawahiba isolados”.

“Isolados” são os índios que não têm contato com a nossa sociedade, ou porque nunca cruzaram com um não-índio (casos cada vez mais raros) ou porque recusam o contato.

Na região que foi alagada pela usina de Jirau, havia rastros de um grupo isolado e nômade. A empresa repassou dinheiro para que a Funai mapeasse esses rastros. Depois de identificados, eles deveriam ganhar uma área de proteção. Mas o investimento não foi suficiente para encontrar ou proteger os índios.

Ao contrário, foram eles que encontraram e salvaram os funcionários da usina. “É difícil entender o que passou na cabeça dos índios quando viram os trabalhadores perdidos”, reflete Ivaneide. “Por que decidiram ajudar? Nunca vamos saber”.

O encontro ocorrido em 2011 é o reflexo oposto do desencontro que se deu na Câmara dos Deputados essa semana. Na terça dia 16, em uma cena inédita, os deputados federais correram pelo plenário como uma manada assustada. Fugiam de homens seminus, pintados de urucum e que balançavam seus chocalhos para protestar contra a mudança da lei que define como as terras indígenas são demarcadas.

Se o comportamento dos índios isolados e dos deputados deixa alguma pista, é que continuamos longe de entender os povos que habitam a nossa terra.

Quando retornaram à usina, os trabalhadores contaram sobre o encontro, mas o supervisor deu risada, chamando-os de mentirosos. Como se fosse impossível haver índios nas proximidades da obra, cravada no meio da floresta amazônica.

Para Ivaneide, a precisão dos detalhes é a maior evidência da veracidade da história. “Os trabalhadores eram de outros estados, uma pessoa sem convivência com indígenas não poderia saber tanto. Ele descreveu a pintura no peito, os traços no rosto dos homens, diferente das mulheres, a pena do gavião real, como tratavam a ponta das flechas. Até os detalhes de como montaram o moquém, que é onde assam a carne”. Segundo ela, o relato bate com hábitos comuns a etnias que vivem ou viveram na região, algumas consideradas extintas.

Existem 82 pistas de grupos indígenas isolados no Brasil, é a maior concentração de povos isolados do mundo. Em março desse ano, os funcionários da Funai fizeram uma carta aberta com um “pedido de socorro”. Nela, escrevem que não há equipe para proteger esses grupos, cujos territórios estão sendo invadidos pelas grandes obras, madeireiros e traficantes.

Como lidar com índios isolados é um dos temas mais complexos dentro da política indigenista. Talvez a pequena mensagem deixada pelo grupo que resgatou os trabalhadores e pelos que invadiram o congresso seja justamente sobre os nossos limites. Os índios tem um modo diferente de ser, nem sempre seremos capazes de entende-los. Talvez esses encontros sejam os momentos para refletir sobre os impactos das nossas escolhas. E fazer um esforço para, a partir dessa nova realidade, respeitar as escolhas deles.

Brazil accused of not protecting isolated indigenous group (AP)

By Associated Press, Published: April 18

SAO PAULO — Brazil’s government has failed to comply with a court order to protect the Awa indigenous people in the Amazon jungles, a British-based Indian rights group said Thursday.

Survival International said in a statement that authorities have ignored a federal judge’s deadline “to evict all invaders from the heartland of Earth’s most threatened tribe by the end of March.” It said the deadline passed and not a single illegal logger or settler has been evicted.

On March 12, 2012, judge Jirair Aram Meguerian ordered that all the loggers and settlers should be removed within 12 months.

The organization said the Awa tribe “is at extreme risk of extinction.”

It added that Funai, Brazil’s indigenous affairs agency was “still waiting for support from the Justice Ministry, the federal police and central government to evict the invaders.”

Funai’s press office said it had no immediate comment. Calls to the Justice Ministry and federal police went unanswered.

Survival International said that more than 30 percent of Awa territory has been deforested and that loggers are “rapidly closing in on their communities and have already been marking trees for deforestation.

It quotes an Awa Indian called Haikaramoka’a, as saying: “The loggers are ruining our forest. They have built roads. We are scared; they could go after the uncontacted Indians. We are scared because the loggers could kill us, and the uncontacted Indians.”

About 100 of the 450 Awa remain uncontacted and are at particular risk of diseases brought in by the outsiders. Survival International said.

Copyright 2013 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

Atual projeto de nação não tem lugar para povos indígenas, diz indígena e doutor em antropologia (EBC)

Thiago Pimenta – Portal EBC 12.04.2013 – 14h28 | Atualizado em 13.04.2013 – 17h09

Gersem Baniwa (Daiane Souza/UnB Agência)

Após manifesto de funcionários da Funai por um plano de  indigenismo brasileiro, o Portal EBC entrevistou o indígena e doutor emantropologia Social, Gersem Baniwa, que atualmente é professor da Universidade Federal do Amazonas (UFAM).

Na opinião de Gersem, que é originário do grupo indígena Baniwa (localizado normalmente no noroeste do Amazonas), um plano indigenista passa previamente por um projeto de nação do país, não podendo acontecer de forma dissociada: “Quando observamos a difícil situação de vida dos povos indígenas, pelas permanentes violações de seus direitos básicos, como o direito ao território e à saúde, podemos acreditar que ou o Brasíl ainda não definiu seu projeto de nação; ou já definiu e neste projeto não há lugar para os povos indígenas”, destaca.

O pesquisador,  que já trabalhou em projetos no Ministério da Educação, reconhece alguns avanços das ações do governo na área escolar e na saúde indígena. O pesquisador reforça os esforços de gestores e técnicos que tentam avançar nas políticas indigenistas, mas denuncia as pressões sofridas pelos índios brasileiros por outros setores.


PLANO INDIGENISTA

Portal EBC: Antes de tudo, em que consiste um plano indigenista?
Gersem: Um plano indigenista para o Brasil passa pela existência de um Projeto de Nação do Brasil. Quando observamos a difícil situação de vida dos povos indígenas, pelas permanentes violações de seus direitos básicos, como o direito ao território e à saúde, podemos acreditar que ou o país ainda não definiu seu projeto de nação; ou já definiu e neste projeto não há lugar para os povos indígenas.

Portal EBC: O texto da Constituição de 88 reconhece aos indígenas o direito à organização social, costumes, línguas, crenças e tradições e dá a eles os direitos originários sobre as terras que ocupam. Jà a União é responsável por demarcar essas terras, proteger e fazer respeitar todos os seus bens. Não seria esse o começo desse projeto?

Gersem: A sociedade brasileira tentou dar sua contribuição por ocasião da Constituinte de 1988, assegurando direitos básicos que garantissem a continuidade étnica e cultural dos povos indígenas, por meio dos direitos sobre suas terras tradicionais e o reconhecimento de suas culturas, tradições e organização social, além do reconhecimento da plena capacidade civil e de cidadania. Minha hipótese é de que essas conquistas legais tinham relação com sentimento de culpa pelos séculos de massacres e mortes impostos aos índios pelos colonizadores, portanto, como medidas reparadoras do ponto de vista moral.

Mesmo reconhecendo alguns avanços pontuais no campo da educação (acesso à educação básica e superior ampliado), do direito à terra principalmente na Amazônia Legal e de participação política (06 prefeitos e 76 vereadores indígenas), o Estado continua passando por cima das cabeças e de caveiras dos povos indígenas como acontece de forma escancarada e vergonhosa no Estado de Mato Grosso do Sul, onde os índios Guarani-Kaiowá continuam sob fogo cruzado por fazendeiros e políticos da região. Para as elites econômicas e políticas do país, os povos indígenas continuam sendo percebidos e tratados como empecilhos para o desenvolvimento econômico do país (que na verdade é o enriquecimento desses grupos). Portanto, um plano indigenista brasileiro depende necessariamente da clareza de que nação, sociedade e país se quer construir. Os povos indígenas só terão chance se o Brasil assumir com seriedade a construção de um projeto de nação baseada em uma sociedade pluriétnica, multicultural e solidária.

Portal EBC: Quais seriam os pontos são mais importantes para um bom plano indigenista para o país?

Gersem: O ponto mais importante de um plano indigenista é garantir as condições reais para a garantia plena dos direitos indígenas, baseadas no protagonismo e na cidadania dos indivíduos e coletividades indígenas. Somente a garantia desses direitos pode garantir a continuidade étnica e cultural desses povos, por meio de segurança territorial, segurança econômico-alimentar, política de educação adequada e  política de saúde eficiente.  Isso também daria sinal de que os povos indígenas podem ter seu espaço na sociedade brasileira. Percebemos uma grande contradição na política indigenista atual: uma parte minoritária do Estado (governo) que tenta adotar o discurso e a prática em favor dos povos indígenas e a outras majoritária que ao contrário, adota discursos e práticas anti-indígenas.


SITUAÇÃO ATUAL DOS ÍNDIOS BRASILEIROS

Portal EBC: Como você vê a atual situação dos indígenas brasileiros? O que precisa mudar?

Gesem: Hoje os povos indígenas do Brasil passam por uma situação muito difícil e ruim, com violações constantes aos seus direitos e com a crescente violência física e de morte que sofrem. Os dez anos seguintes à promulgação da CF de 1988 foram de gradativo processo de conquistas de direitos concretos (demarcação de terras, educação escolar, organização social e participação política) mas, os últimos três anos foram de estagnação com forte tendência de retrocesso sem precedentes para os povos indígenas.  A leitura que faço é que o Estado (comandado pelas elites políticas e econômicas) se arrependeu de reconhecer os direitos indígenas e agora faz de tudo para, em primeiro plano, violar esses direitos e em segundo plano, anular ou reduzir esses direitos. Ou é isso, ou o Estado está assumindo sua incapacidade e incompetência para garantir os direitos dos povos indígenas. As políticas existentes são completamente insatisfatórias. Estão sempre voltadas para resolver ou minimizar problemas acumulados. As políticas indigenistas continuam sendo autoritárias, paternalistas e tutelares. Embora o Brasil tenha adotado a Convenção 169 da OIT, há anos, até hoje ela não foi regulamentada. Neste sentido, um plano indigenista moderno precisa superar seriamente a visão imediatista, autoritária e de descaso institucional. Precisa ser construído um plano transparente e participativo de curto, médio e longo prazo, com metas, objetivos e condições claros de implementação. O mais importante é o plano indigenista ser do Estado e não apenas de um governo ou do órgão indigenista.

Portal EBC: Que ações merecem destaque na atual política indigenista?

Gersem: É importante reconhecer que nos últimos houve esforços e tentativas do governo federal em avançar nas políticas de atendimento voltadas para os povos indígenas, principalmente após o fim do monopólio da política indigenista pela Fundação Nacional do Índio (Funai), no início da década de 1990. O Ministério da Saúde tem se esforçado para tentar responder às demandas indígenas. O Ministério do Meio Ambiente iniciou experiências inovadoras ainda no final da década de 1990 em apoio técnico e financeiro para projetos socioeconômicos alternativos e autossustentáveis de comunidades indígenas na Amazônia. O Ministério da Educação empreendeu esforços junto aos estados e municípios em busca de melhorias no atendimento escolar às aldeias indígenas. Sem dúvida que essas experiências das últimas duas décadas lograram avanços e êxitos parciais e de algum modo contribuíram para a recuperação da autoestima e de esperança no futuro dos povos indígenas, expressa por meio do crescimento demográfico desses povos que está se aproximando de um milhão de indígenas no país (considerando que na década de 1960 chegaram à cifra de 200.000 indígenas) e da presença cidadã dos indígenas na vida do país. As experiências revelaram também questões preocupantes, como as limitações do Estado no atendimento aos direitos e anseios indígenas. Os gestores e técnicos de ministérios bem que tentaram avançar nas políticas voltadas aos povos indígenas, mas percebe-se atualmente o limite dessas possibilidades, diante do contexto político e econômico do país. Essas possibilidades esbarram na falta de vontade política dos dirigentes maiores em dar relevância às questões indígenas. Sem determinação política o tema nunca entra na lista de prioridades do governo e, por isso, as instâncias e estruturas que atuam junto a esses povos estão sempre esvaziadas, desestruturadas e desqualificadas, sem recursos financeiros, sem equipes e sem condições administrativas. Deste modo fica difícil assegurar os direitos indígenas que ficam a mercê dos interesses econômicos anti-indígenas. Muitas vezes parece que o governo se presta a servir aos interesses desses grupos.

Portal EBC: Como você avalia o trabalho da Funai hoje?

Gersem: Nos últimos dez anos a Funai tem se esforçado para estar ao lado dos povos indígenas no enfrentamento dos problemas existentes nas aldeias, mas é um órgão do Estado e dos governos, portanto, dominada pela incapacidade e ineficiência institucional. É um órgão com eminência de falência institucional, por ausência de força e crédito político, falta de recursos humanos, equipe reduzida e mal preparada, e com infraestrutura arcaica. É evidente o processo de sucateamento e enfraquecimento do órgão nos últimos anos, na mesma proporção em que as oligarquias econômicas e políticas nos municípios e Estados se organizaram e se fortaleceram contra os direitos indígenas. O enfraquecimento da Funai é o mais claro exemplo do descompromisso do governo e do Estado para com a defesa e garantia dos direitos indígenas no país. Com isso, os povos indígenas cada vez mais estão à mercê e se tornam reféns de municípios, estados e grupos políticos e econômicos hostis aos direitos indígenas. Isso deixa claro também a necessidade de reorganização e fortalecimento do papel do governo federal na defesa e garantia desses direitos.

Portal EBC: Como você vê a atual atenção à saúde prestada aos indígenas?

Gersem: A política de saúde indígena no Brasil é a que mais se esforçou na busca por um plano mais adequado para o atendimento aos povos indígenas que teve início com a implantação dos Distritos Sanitários Especiais Indígenas (DSEI´s), enquanto uma etnoterritorialização do atendimento, o que é uma ideia inovadora com grandes possibilidades. No entanto, tem sofrido como todas as demais políticas indigenistas das profundas contradições e irracionalidades da política e da administração pública brasileira. Recentemente foi criada a Secretaria Especial de Saúde Indígena, como resultado de décadas de luta dos povos indígenas, mais uma iniciativa relevante e, no entanto, foi neutralizada pelos gargalos administrativos homogêneos da burocracia estatal pensada para atender as realidades dos centros urbanos. Sem equipes e sem condições logísticas adequadas, a política de saúde indígena está sendo um pesadelo para a saúde dos povos indígenas. O mesmo acontece no campo das políticas de educação escolar indígena, principalmente em regiões da Amazônia e do Nordeste, onde construções de infraestrutura e transporte logístico básicas não são possíveis de serem resolvidas pelos irracionais procedimentos licitatórios. O mesmo acontece com a falta de recursos humanos qualificados para atuar nas aldeias ou próximo às aldeias, pois as formas de contratação, temporárias ou de carreira, não são adequadas, pois dificilmente profissionais qualificados se dispõem a trabalhar nas aldeias com baixos salários pagos pelo poder público.

Portal EBC: Como você vê a situação dos indígenas isolados e recém-contatados?
Gersem: Entendo que esses povos apresentam consciência sobre a situação de não estabelecerem contato permanente com a sociedade nacional e por isso devem ser respeitados nessa decisão. Neste sentido, cabe ao Estado protegê-los, criar condições de proteção sem ação interventiva ou esforço para estabelecer contato, pois estes povos fazem parte da nação brasileira, ainda que desconhecidos da população majoritária.


PRESSÕES SOFRIDAS POR POVOS INDÍGENAS

Portal EBC: Quais são as maiores pressões sofridas pelos indígenas brasileiros? Quais são os agentes dessas pressões?

Gersem: Na atualidade, as maiores pressões aos povos indígenas vêm dos grupos ruralistas e mineradores do país além, é claro, dos próprios agentes do Estado e das grandes construtoras interessados pelos territórios indígenas e principalmente pelos recursos naturais neles existentes. As principais ameaças vêm das elites econômicas, principalmente ruralistas, na medida em que estão, a todo custo, espoliando as terras indígenas. É importante afirmar que não é possível garantir a continuidade etnocultural dos povos indígenas sem a garantia territorial. Mas não podemos esquecer a outra ameaça que vem das igrejas religiosas, que estão realizando, verdadeiros massacres culturais por meio de suas imposições doutrinárias em detrimento das culturas e valores indígenas.

Portal EBC: De que forma essas pressões podem ser aliviadas?

Gersem: Primeiro, a partir de um ordenamento territorial, respeitando-se os direitos constitucionais dos povos indígenas. No Brasil, é necessário se criar o hábito e a cultura de se respeitar as leis e o Estado ou governos precisam criar vontade e capacidades para exerceram o poder para zelar pelo cumprimento das leis, indistintamente de classes, grupos sociais ou credos. Segundo, é necessário respeitar a legislação nacional e internacional que asseguram a participação e a consulta prévia e qualificada aos povos indígenas em qualquer projeto ou programa governamental que lhes afetem. Em terceiro lugar, o que é mais importante é a superação do preconceito histórico sobre os povos indígenas de que são empecilhos para o desenvolvimento do país e a superação do racismo que considera os povos indígenas como atrasados ou não civilizados. Não é possível pensar o Brasil desenvolvido e civilizado enquanto não aprender a respeitar e valorizar um dos seus três pilares étnicos, que formaram o povo e a nação brasileira, que são os povos indígenas ou povos originários.

Portal EBC: As grandes obras como a construção de hidrelétricas e rodovias também ameaçam os povos indígenas?

Gersem: Sem dúvida, depois da luta pela terra as construções de grandes obras ameaçam seriamente a vida presente e futura dos povos indígenas, na medida em que afetam diretamente os ecossistema dos territórios indígenas que são fundamentais para a sobrevivência física e cultural. É importante destacar que os povos indígenas precisam integralmente de seus territórios, enquanto ecossistemas integrados e abrangentes para perpetuarem suas culturas, tradições, seus conhecimentos e seus modos de vida.

Portal EBC: Qual a sua opinião sobre a recente militarização nessas grandes obras, como a presença da Força Nacional no Complexo Tapajós?

Gersem: Acho completamente desnecessária e mostra claramente a atitude arbitrária e autoritária do governo. Mostra ainda total falta de sensibilidade e capacidade de diálogo com o movimento social indígena. E o que mais assusta com essa atitude do governo é a possibilidade de que o governo esteja radicalmente decidido a seguir o discurso de em nome do “relevante interesse público” passar por cima dos povos indígenas, ou seja, mais uma vez os povos indígenas podem pagar com suas vidas o suposto bem estar da sociedade majoritária e pode no futuro próximo estimular instabilidade social nas regiões e no país. Um diálogo franco, transparente e democrático com os interessados deveria ser instituído para mediar e solucionar conflitos de interesses. Nem sempre a força física e militar é a melhor solução para muitos casos.

Portal EBC: A lei 5.371 diz que a Funai deve exercer o poder de polícia nas áreas reservadas e nas matérias atinentes à proteção do índio. Como você vê a questão do poder de polícia conferido à Funai? A instituição deve ter autonomia ou deve recorrer a outros órgãos de segurança pública?

Gersem: Em primeiro lugar não tenho nada contra o poder de polícia da Funai, mas acho isso completamente inviável pelas condições em que o órgão se encontra: enfraquecido, desestruturado e principalmente sem equipe qualificada. Em segundo lugar, é importante considerar o papel do estado brasileiro na defesa e proteção dos direitos dos povos indígenas e, para isso, dispõe de vários instrumentos e mecanismos institucionais, como Ministério Público, a Polícia Federal e a Força Nacional e outros órgãos. Não acredito que somente uma Funai armada irá resolver os problemas dela e dos povos indígenas, mas sim um plano indigenista sério, forte e eficiente, com o peso e a responsabilidade do Estado e dos governos.

Portal EBC: Um delegado da Polícia Federal da Delegacia Vilhena, em Rondônia, sugeriu que a Funai fizesse a regularização quanto ao porte de armas de fogo por parte dos servidores. Você é contra ou a favor do porte de armas por funcionários da instituição?

Gersem: Em primeiro lugar sou contra porte de armas para qualquer cidadão que não represente órgãos de segurança pública, de modo que os funcionários da Funai só deveriam portar armas caso eles exerçam poder de polícia, caso contrário sou completamente contra.


PERSPECTIVAS PARA O INDIGENISMO BRASILEIRO

Portal EBC: Na sua opinião, qual é a maior urgência do indigenismo brasileiro?

Gersem: A maior urgência é a definição clara de uma política indigenista para o país com metas de curto, médio e longo prazo. Uma política que estabeleça com clareza o lugar dos povos indígenas na nação brasileira. E para mostrar compromisso e seriedade com esta política é fundamental a aprovação do Estatuto dos Povos Indígenas que expresse este plano indigenista de curto, médio e longo prazo de forma articulado. O governo federal precisa assumir a responsabilidade pela defesa e proteção dos direitos desses povos, conforme determina a Constituição Federal. Só uma atuação exemplar do governo federal pode tirar os povos indígenas das mãos sanguinárias das elites econômicas, principalmente ruralistas.

Portal EBC: Quais são as perspectivas futuras para o indigenismo brasileiro?

Gersem: De muita angústia, muita dúvida e muita luta na tentativa de evitar que mais uma onda de genocídios volte a ser executada no Brasil. A esperança está em uma geração de jovens indígenas que estão se formando nas academias brasileiras e que ao longo dos próximos anos vão estar assumindo a liderança de suas aldeias e seus povos e, em muitos casos, também ocupando espaços nos órgãos da administração pública e nos poderes constituídos do país e que podem propor e construir novas alternativas de resistência e sobrevivência dos povos indígenas do Brasil. O grande desafio dessa nova geração de lideranças indígenas é domesticar a hostilidade, a ambição, a vaidade e o senso de tirania dos grupos políticos e econômicos que dominam as estruturas e as políticas do Estado e dos governos. Mas tenho certeza que os povos indígenas continuarão sua histórica luta de resistência mas também de fé por dias melhores em mundos melhores.

Edição: Leyberson Pedrosa

O novo velho Mano Brown (Revista Fórum)

10/04/2013 2:44 pm

Por Glauco Faria, Igor Carvalho e Renato Rovai. Fotos de Guilherme Perez

“A gente não foca na polícia, a polícia é um tentáculo do sistema, o mais mal pago. Mas é armado e chega com autoridade, é um tentáculo perigoso”

“Eu sou o Brown mais velho, macaco velho. Estou menos óbvio, menos personagem e mais natural. Comecei a tomar cuidado. Nunca fui oportunista, vivo de música, não sou um político que faz música.” Essa é uma das formas pelas quais o líder e vocalista do Racionais MC’s se define hoje, 25 anos depois de o grupo de rap conseguir levar sua mensagem não apenas às periferias de todo o Brasil, mas também a muitos lugares e pessoas que não tinham intimidade com o ritmo.

A mensagem de Brown sempre foi forte e contundente, mas hoje o músico prepara o lançamento de um álbum solo, no qual o soul e o romantismo predominam. Isso não significa, nem de longe, que o seu pensamento tenha se modificado, até porque muito do contexto que propiciou o nascimento do Racionais ainda está presente na realidade brasileira. “Eu não estava falando de chacina, de nada disso, estava preparando um disco de música romântica, aí começou a morrer gente aqui e tive de fazer alguma coisa.”

O músico se refere à chacina que matou sete pessoas na região do Campo Limpo, zona sul paulistana, em 5 de janeiro. Entre as vítimas, DJ Lah, em um primeiro momento tido como autor de um vídeo que denunciava a execução de um comerciante no mesmo local, feita por policiais. A informação foi desmentida depois, mas o espectro de que se tratava de uma vingança paira sobre a população do lugar. E Brown fala sobre as possíveis consequências para quem viu e sentiu a tragédia de perto. “Essa ferida não vai cicatrizar, quem mora naquele lugar onde morreu o Lah não vai esquecer, os moleques vão crescer, mano. Quem viveu aquilo não vai esquecer.”

Na entrevista a seguir, Mano Brown fala sobre a falta de oportunidades na periferia, do racismo, de um sistema que oprime, mas também ressalta o que ele considera ser o nascimento de um novo Brasil, destacando o papel da nova geração. Assim, ele mesmo tenta se “reinventar” para seguir na luta que sempre foi dele e de muitas outras pessoas. “Para dar continuidade ao trabalho, temos de caminhar pra frente, a juventude precisa de rapidez na informação, não dá pra ficar debatendo a mesma ideia sempre. É fácil para o Brown ficar nessas ideias, fácil, é até covarde ficar jogando mais lenha, então fui buscar as outras ideias, que passam pela raça também, com certeza.”

Fórum – Você esteve em uma reunião do pessoal do rap com o então candidato a prefeito de São Paulo Fernando Haddad, e ali disse que não iria falar sobre cultura, mas sim denunciar que os jovens estavam morrendo na periferia. Recentemente, houve o assassinato do DJ Lah, e mortes violentas de músicos da periferia têm sido muito comuns em São Paulo, na Baixada Santista, por exemplo. Como definir essa situação?

Mano Brown – Esses moleques cantam o que eles vivem. Geralmente, quando você chega nas quebradas, têm poucos lugares que são espaços de lazer, e o lugar onde teve a chacina era um ponto de lazer, querendo ou não. Um ponto meio marginal, mas tudo que é nosso é marginal. Era um bar, tinha a sinuca, tinham os amigos, o bate-papo com a família, tem o fluxo, é o centro da quebrada. O barzinho vende de tudo, vende pinga, vende leite, vende tudo, e o Lah gostava de ficar por ali, vários caras gostavam, era o quintal das pessoas.

O que aconteceu ali foi execução, crime de guerra. Tem a guerra e tem os crimes de guerra. As pessoas não estavam esperando por aquilo ali, não estavam preparadas pr’aquilo. É o que tem acontecido neste começo de ano, e aconteceu no final do ano passado, as mortes todas têm o mesmo perfil: moleque pobre em proximidade de favela. Os caras encontram várias fragilidades ali, várias formas de chegar, matar e sair rápido, e o governo simplesmente ignora o que aconteceu. existem as facilidades. O cara vai lá e mata sabendo que não vai ser cobrado.

Fórum – Mas você acha que, por conta dessas ocorrências, há uma coisa dirigida contra o rap?

Brown – Acho que não, se dissesse isso seria até leviano, porque muitas pessoas que morreram não tinham nada a ver com o rap. Gente comum, motoboy, entregador de pizza, moleque que saiu da Febem e estava na rua, com uma passagenzinha primária e morreu… E o rap tá na vida da molecada mesmo, tá nos becos, nas esquinas, no bar, na viela, geralmente o moleque que curte rap tá nesses lugares. É uma coisa dirigida, mas é dirigida à raça. Dirigida a uma classe.

Se você for fazer a conta de quantas pessoas morreram no final do ano, mortes sem explicação, crimes a serem investigados, e somar o tanto de gente que morreu em Santa Maria… Morreu muito mais aqui. Lá foi comoção total pela forma que ocorreu, lógico, todo mundo é ser humano, mas veja a repercussão de um caso e a repercussão de outro caso, quanto tempo demorou pra mídia acordar pra chacina? Quanto tempo demorou pras pessoas perceberem a cor dos mortos? Coisa meio que normal, oito pretos mortos, quatro aqui, três ali… É uma coisa meio cultural, preto, pobre, preso morto já é uma coisa normal. Ninguém faz contas.

Fórum – E quem está matando nas periferias?

Brown – A polícia. O braço armado, conexões armadas, de direita.

Fórum – Você tem um histórico de estranhamentos com a polícia…

Brown – Houve a época em que soava o gongo, a gente saía dando porrada pra todo lado, não olhava nem em quem. Outra época, a gente procurava a polícia pra sair batendo. Hoje em dia, espera pra ver quem vai vir. Não é só a polícia, são vários poderes. A gente não foca na polícia, a polícia é um tentáculo do sistema, o mais mal pago. Mas é armado e chega com autoridade, é um tentáculo perigoso. E tem várias formas de matar, de matar o preto.

Fórum – Da última vez que você deu entrevista à Fórum, há mais de 11 anos, boa parte da conversa foi sobre isso. Você é um ator importante dentro desse cenário, como está atuando para mudar a situação, está fazendo intervenções no governo, conversando com pessoas, ou só se manifestando pela sua arte mesmo?

Brown – Se eu disser que não uso meus contatos, estou mentindo. O que tem acontecido traumatizou todo mundo, então ficamos todos aqui com muita raiva, lógico que alguma coisa a gente fez. Mas não posso dizer o quê. Tenho minhas armas, mas não posso expor, parado a gente não ficou.

A partir do momento em que a gente nota realmente que nossa quebrada tem fragilidades, vê as famílias das pessoas com muitas mulheres e poucos homens, homens com pouca liberdade, pouca liberdade de movimento, vida pregressa com problema, pouca mobilidade na sociedade, caras condenados a viver no submundo, você começa a criar um exército na comunidade, de gente que vê aquele entra e sai da cadeia, de homens com vida pregressa que não conseguem mais arranjar emprego. As casas perdem esses caras, que deixam de ser úteis dentro de casa. Você vê a morte do homem da casa, cinco mulheres chorando; as famílias estão num processo que vai demorar, de restauração pra uma vida mais rotineira, mais calma, é uma corrente que tem de quebrar.

“Antigamente, quando só o rico tinha, ninguém reclamava. Pobre com celular, com moto, não pode, o sistema cobra”

Fórum – Um cenário de guerra, mesmo.

Brown – É, não passou a ser guerra agora, depois da chacina, já vivia em guerra. As mães também lamentam os filhos que vão pra vida do crime, perder pra droga… A molecada negra tá muito exposta ao perigo, o salário é baixo, o risco é alto. A sociedade cobra muito, você tem de ter as coisas, tem de estar, tem de ser, tem de aparentar ser… Aparentar ser já custa caro, “ser” é outro estágio. O pessoal acha que é vaidade boba a pessoa gostar de marca, de perfume bom, mas são coisas que ajudam a pessoa a circular, a arrumar um emprego, a arrumar uma gata, tudo melhora. No momento em que no Brasil começa a sobrar um dinheirinho pra categoria, pra raça, o outro lado já começa a cobrar com a vida também. O excesso de gente usufruindo deste novo Brasil… Não pode, é excesso, tem de limpar. Tudo que é moleque de moto… Os excessos que o pessoal começa a reclamar, todo mundo com celular no busão. Antigamente, quando só o rico tinha, ninguém reclamava. Pobre com celular, com moto, não pode, o sistema cobra.

Fórum – Você entende isso como uma reação da elite?

Brown – Uma reação. Três governos de esquerda eleitos pelo povo, o Brasil pagou a dívida, a classe C tomando espaço e a Globo expondo isso na novela, todo mundo analisando, os autores são mais jovens e começaram a mudar a mente, as ideias começaram a ir pra tela e os movimentos ganhando força a partir das ideias, muita coisa junto… Os caras reagiram. O que aconteceu em São Paulo aconteceu no resto do Brasil. Em Alagoas, o índice de negros mortos é muito alto, em Belém do Pará, Goiás…

Fórum – E você pediu o impeachment do governador Geraldo Alckmin em um evento na Assembleia…

Brown – Pedi o impeachment do Alckmin e ele tem de tomar providências. Naquela altura, estava em um estágio em que dava a impressão de que o Alckmin não estava nem aí. As declarações que ele deu foram piorando, chegou num ponto de eu achar que ele não sabia o que estava acontecendo. Era suicídio, como ele vai se eleger a qualquer coisa com esses números de morte?

Muitas vezes, acho a mídia com tanto medo e, de repente, vai um canal de direita, que é a Record, que começou a investigação. A gente conversava e sentia que tinha o medo no ar, eram jornalistas com medo, quando eu vi o [André] Caramante isolando e as pessoas pedindo pra ele não voltar, pensei: “Os caras tão com medo, o governo tá junto”. E as declarações que ele [Alckmin] estava dando mostravam isso, que não ia voltar atrás e era um movimento aprovado pelo povo, o povo estava com ele. Redução da violência, crime organizado, a guerra do PCC, o povo leu isso como uma coisa benéfica pra sociedade, mas estavam morrendo os filhos deles mesmos.

Fórum – Será que o povo leu isso desse jeito?

Brown – Pelo número de PMs que foi eleito, percebo que o povo está se dirigindo a votar dessa forma, tem medo. Primeira coisa que se pensa: segurança. Segurança é polícia, entre um cantor de rap, um padre e um policial, ele vai eleger um policial. O voto explica.

“O PCC hoje tem tanto poder que eles nem precisariam da contravenção pra existir”

Fórum – Qual a sua opinião sobre o PCC?

Brown – O PCC hoje tem tanto poder que eles nem precisariam da contravenção pra existir. Aí seria realmente um poder incontestável, e pelo número de mortes que foi reduzido em São Paulo, a gente sabe que muito tem a ver com eles. Já existe o PCC, não precisa fazer nada mais contra a lei. Se é que houve alguma coisa contra a lei… Não seria mais necessário usar contravenção, já existe a autoridade, existe a autoridade instalada, o povo aceitou.

Fórum – Como você vê a ascensão dos movimentos sociais hoje em São Paulo?

Brown – Sou privilegiado de ver acontecer isso, minha geração. Acho digno e muito importante mesmo todos os saraus, as reuniões, os diálogos, todo o movimento de jovens dedicado a isso, a conhecer as causas do Brasil, não só reclamar. É uma geração que não só reclama, que faz, que desce o beco da favela, vai trabalhar, vai bater nas portas. É um novo Brasil, novos médicos, novos advogados, novos pedreiros, novos motoboys, novos motoristas. O que todo mundo bebe, vai ser; o que todo mundo come, vai ser; o que todo mundo respira, vai ser. Daqui a 20 anos, você vai ver o país que está sendo implantado pelo Lula, pela Dilma, pelos Racionais, pelo Bill, pelo Facção Central. Daqui a 20 anos, vai ter um povo que vai ter essa cara.

Fórum – Fale um pouco mais de sua concepção desse novo Brasil.

Brown – Tenho 42 anos, sou fruto daquela geração dos anos 1980, aquela “geração lixo”. “Geração lixo”. Eu sou aquilo, com todos os defeitos e qualidades. Já os nossos filhos, nós que já aprendemos e sofremos um pouquinho mais, vão ser melhorados, mais ligeiros, mais práticos que eu, e não vão rodar tanto em volta do objetivo, vão direto ao foco.

Agora, os meus filhos, a molecada em geral… Ainda temos de lavar a roupa suja. Eu e eles. Não gosto de puxar a orelha dos moleques por revista e nem por entrevista, mas temos roupa suja pra lavar nas favelas, nas vielas, nas ruas, nos palcos, tem muita coisa pra melhorar ainda.

Fórum – Mas existe um orgulho hoje de quem vive na periferia, ele não se esconde mais. Há marcas que nascem na periferia. 

Brown – É o que o judeu fez, o italiano fez, o japonês fez e o preto foi proibido de fazer. Nos dias de hoje, faz, monta time de futebol, loja, grupo de rap. Forma a família, que é onde está o foco nosso, a família, dialogar, organizar… Historicamente foi proibido pra nós, a gente vive correndo, se escondendo, um comportamento de foragido que talvez essa geração não vá ter mais.

Fórum – Será que esse não é o susto das elites, perceber que daqui a 20 anos o Brasil não vai ser mais esse? 

Brown – O Brasil atrasado, os brancos também não querem isso, os brancos ligeiros não querem mais isso. Foi um ganho o branco acordar e o preto acordar também.

Fórum – “Fim de semana no parque” fez vinte anos agora. Você acha que essa foi a principal mudança nesse período, além do ganho econômico, também a elevação da autoestima?

Brown – Começa pela raça, pelo orgulho do que você é, de você ter na sua família a sua raiz. Se você não tem vergonha da sua mãe você vai ouvir mais ela, se você acha sua mãe bonita, seu pai bonito… Eu sou de uma geração em que muitos não tiveram pai, não tive pai, vários amigos não tiveram. Tive de aprender a ser meu pai, o homem da casa sempre fui eu. Isso também fez eu ser quem eu sou, mas acho que seria melhor se tivesse tido um pai. Em várias casas faltam um pai. Acho que a periferia vive este momento de fluxo de cadeia, da molecada se envolvendo na criminalidade, perdendo o direito de ir e vir, de oportunidade de emprego por conta de passagem [na polícia], então vai limitando e as famílias vão ficando empobrecidas. Mesmo que o governo faça, vai estar sempre correndo atrás, essa corrente tem de cortar. Dar oportunidade pra molecada – principalmente para os homens –, que não tem como demonstrar nada numa sociedade em que você tem de parecer que é, pelo menos. A molecada não tem oportunidade.

Fórum – Falando em oportunidade, o que você acha das cotas?

Brown – Como tudo que envolve o negro, é polêmico. Agora, se você negar que o Brasil prejudicou a raça negra… [As cotas] não vão resolver o problema, mas dizer que o negro não é merecedor disso é racismo. Historicamente teria de ter, mas, dentro da raça negra, o lance de cotas é tão dividido ou mais que entre os brancos. Se você chegar na inteligência negra, perguntar ali o que acha da cota… Mano, é treta! Você vai ter cara crânio que é contra, vai falar pra ele que tem de ser a favor… É dividido, acho bom ser polêmico. O problema tem de ser debatido, depois faz o acordo, mas de cara tem de conversar.

“Primeira coisa que se pensa: segurança. Segurança é polícia, entre um cantor de rap, um padre e um policial, ele vai eleger um policial. O voto explica”

Fórum – Qual a sua avaliação do movimento negro no Brasil?

Brown – O movimento negro evoluiu muito, tenho muito orgulho de ver como o movimento atua hoje, algumas reuniões em que eu fui, moleques muito inteligentes… Dá vontade de parar de falar e deixar só os moleques falarem. No dia do evento mesmo, antes tinha falado um garoto do movimento negro, ele já tinha falado tudo. Eu nem quis falar muito porque ele já tinha falado tudo. Antigamente, ia nos movimentos e era um debate muito primário, ranço de 300 anos debatido nos anos 1980, nós estamos em 2013 e a molecada já está debatendo outras coisas, outros poderes, não só os visíveis. Já não querem só a roupa de marca, os caras querem poder, os moleques vêm pesado na reivindicação, no direito, na história. São terríveis e estão vindo aí. Tenho orgulho, já foi um movimento confuso, hoje não é mais. É um movimento prático.

Fórum – Existe uma crítica de que somente o empoderamento econômico não traria consciência social para as pessoas, mas o seu depoimento não diz isso.

Brown – Traz. Traz porque o tempo é dinheiro pra todos, inclusive pra classe C. O micro-ondas, o carro que anda melhor vai fazer você chegar com mais conforto em casa, no seu trabalho, você vai ter tempo pra melhorar. Por que é conforto pro rico e pro pobre não? O pobre vai ficar bobo alegre, por quê? É preconceito. O que faz a vida do cara ter conforto, permitir organizar o tempo, poder estudar, trabalhar e cuidar do filho… Daqui a 20 anos, tá ele formado, o filho estudando, se ele não tivesse o carro, com certeza não trabalhava, não estudava, tinha cuidado só do filho. Ele não tinha estudado e era só o filho, não eram duas rendas, era uma. Bem material “aliena o pobre”, porque pobre é alienado, esse é o discurso… O pobre não tem inteligência… Sabedoria do povo é sabedoria do povo, tem de escutar, tem de entender a mensagem.

“Como um país como o Brasil pôde tolerar os números de mortes em São Paulo, em 2012? Ninguém vê?”

Fórum – Você nunca pensou em se envolver com política?

Brown – Dá preguiça. Vou ser preso por agressão… Primeira reunião é agressão, é foda, tem de ter sangue frio.

Fórum – No Rio de Janeiro, o MC Leonardo saiu candidato. Você não acha que o movimento deveria lançar mais candidatos?

Brown – Não houve sucessos nas últimas eleições, é a ideia que falei da disputa do cantor de rap, do padre e do policial, foi isso que aconteceu. Houve candidatos com votação inexpressiva. O MC Leonardo pegou o Rio de Janeiro de cabeça pra baixo, tá todo mundo embriagado com a UPP. Ele fez o movimento contrário, eu falei pra ele: “Você vai bater de frente com a UPP? O povo tá do lado. Sua bandeira é essa, então é difícil ganhar”. Deixou de ter excesso, UPP é a contenção dos excessos. Vai ter cocaína em todo lugar, maconha em todo lugar, na farmácia, na padaria você compra, vai ter o funcionário que vende a maconhinha… O problema é o excesso, polícia dando tiro, facção trocando tiro, garoto novo com arma.

Fórum – Como você chegou no Marighella? Você pegaria em armas por algum desses motivos que falou aqui com a gente?

Brown – Pegaria. Não sou mais do que ninguém, mas pegaria. Não vejo por que não pegar, mesmo que eu fosse um mau soldado. Faria de tudo pra ser um bom soldado.

Fórum – E o Marighella, como você chegou a ele?

Brown – Eu tinha ouvido falar do Marighella há alguns anos, alguém disse que a gente era parecido até fisicamente, e é mesmo né, mano? Através da esposa de um rapper, amigo nosso, me falaram que ia sair um filme e o pessoal queria falar comigo, porque tinha tudo a ver, Marighella e Racionais. Aí entrei em contato com o pessoal do filme e peguei a missão de fazer a música.

Fórum – Você se surpreendeu com a história dele? 

Brown – Me identifiquei demais com ele, pra caralho, como pessoa. Gostava de futebol, samba, poesia, mulheres e não tinha medo de morrer, por isso ele é um líder até hoje.

Fórum – E religião, você tem proximidade com alguma delas?

Brown – Minha mãe é seicho-no-iê, comecei a ir para a igreja por influência de amigos, estudei em colégio de ensino adventista, então tenho essa proximidade. Mas nasci dentro do candomblé e convivi com as duas culturas, uma conflitando com a outra. Imagina se eu sou confuso?

O adventista não agride tanto o candomblé ou qualquer outra religião, mas o neopentecostal é mais forte nisso, até porque os integrantes são tudo ex-filhos de santo, a maioria.

Fórum – As igrejas evangélicas estão cada vez mais presentes nas periferias de São Paulo…

Brown – Já foram mais.

Fórum – Qual a sua opinião sobre algumas lideranças religiosas, alguns pastores que estão enriquecendo? 

Brown – O povo tá injuriado com esse duplo sentido deles, essa dúvida sobre a honestidade que deixam no ar. E outra, tá meio neutralizado esse avanço, o povo fica de olho nessa dúvida que eles deixam.

Fórum – E o que mudou?

Brown – O que mudou é esse monte de escândalos em que eles se envolvem. “Ah, o cara é representante de Jesus”, mas quem deu esse direito a ele? “Ah, Jesus falou…”. Então tá, falou pra ele e por que não falou pra mim?

Fórum – Eles nunca tentaram chegar em você?

Brown – Não. Eles xingam os Racionais na TV, mas sem saber. Vou na igreja, gosto da ideia e da fé. Gosto de ajudar, de descer a favela, ir na cadeira, sou devoto dessa ideia, seja do candomblé, do evangélico ou do comunista, o cara que coloca em prática o que Jesus falou.

“Eu como e bebo por causa da pirataria, é minha rádio. Minha música nunca parou de tocar por causa da pirataria, ganhei e perdi na mesma proporção. Tá bom”

Fórum – Você falou de pegar em armas. Na periferia já não existem grupos de garotos falando em reagir, vingar essas chacinas?

Brown – Essa resposta você vai ver em sete ou oito anos. Essa ferida não vai cicatrizar, quem mora naquele lugar onde morreu o Lah não vai esquecer, os moleques vão crescer, mano. Quem viveu aquilo não vai esquecer.

Fórum – O governador Geraldo Alckmin, na sua opinião, está pecando por omissão ou é conivente com essa situação?

Brown – Peca por negligência, peca por prevaricação, por não executar a lei.

Fórum – Uns dois anos atrás, você disse que queria mudar sua imagem, que estava ficando “mapeada e óbvia”. Você mudou? Quem é o novo Brown?

Brown – O novo Brown não existe, porque esse termo “imagem” não existe, imagem é nada. Eu sou o Brown mais velho, macaco velho. Estou menos óbvio, menos personagem e mais natural. Comecei a tomar cuidado. Nunca fui oportunista, vivo de música, não sou um político que faz música. Eu não estava falando de chacina, de nada disso, estava preparando um disco de música romântica, aí começou a morrer gente aqui e tive de fazer alguma coisa.

Fórum – Você sempre teve uma visão crítica da mídia. O que acha dela hoje?

Brown – Ando muito chateado com a mídia por conta da chacina do final do ano. Dá para ver quem são os mais contestadores, eles são mais jovens e não têm forças. Os mais velhos têm espaço, mas são conservadores. Quem é da mídia e queria falar estava amarrado, e quem poderia falar fechou com a polícia, meio que concordando, entendendo mais a polícia do que a gente. Ontem (6 de fevereiro), em outra chacina em Guarulhos, mataram três irmãos nossos, filhos da mesma mulher, que já não tinham pai. Típico. A mulher de 40 perde os filhos de 15, 18 e 21 porque um polícia morreu na quebrada deles e mataram cinco para vingar.

Fórum – A chacina em que morreu o Lah realmente marcou você…

Brown – Muito, mano. Eu estava acompanhando antes daquilo, na véspera da eleição eu falei, em novembro; avisei de novo, aí depois vem essa chacina… Foi uma ação suicida, deram tiro com a bala da delegacia, foi como se dissesse assim: “Governador, você não é homem, o Estado não existe. Brasil, você é uma merda. Vem me pegar se vocês quiserem, matei sete pessoas no bar, com arma da polícia, e não vai dar em nada”. Deixou o recado. Como um país como o Brasil pôde tolerar os números de mortes em São Paulo, em 2012? Ninguém vê? ONU? Unicef? Qual a justificativa para tantas mortes? Não estamos em guerra. Queria saber como a Dilma lidou com isso.

Fórum – Sua relação com o Lula sempre foi forte.

Brown – É uma relação de respeito, sem badalação. Desde adolescente, eu votava no Lula, eu era simpatizante do PT, criei empatia. Ele é um cara honesto, gosto do Lula.

Fórum – E você ainda tem simpatia pelo PT?

Brown – Tenho. O PT, com todos os defeitos, ainda é a única coisa que a gente tem para lutar contra o PSDB, o partido do Alckmin, do Serra, da polícia tal, do delegado tal.

Fórum – Olhando para trás, após 25 anos de Racionais, você consegue identificar por que os Racionais ficaram tão grandes?

Brown – Porque o povo é muito grande. De cara, eu e o KL Jay, a gente trabalhava juntos, e falávamos que a periferia é a maioria absoluta e não tinha para ninguém. Se eles vierem com a gente, tá feito. O rap é a única coisa que sabia [fazer] e acredito nele até hoje.

Fórum – Quantos discos o Racionais vendeu?

Brown – Não tenho ideia, uns 2 ou 3 milhões.

Fórum – O que você pensa da pirataria?

Brown – Ótimo. Eu como e bebo por causa da pirataria, é minha rádio. Minha música nunca parou de tocar por causa da pirataria, ganhei e perdi na mesma proporção. Tá bom.

Fórum – Seu disco novo vai vir mais romântico mesmo? Você sempre falou de sua admiração por Marvin Gaye e Barry White, está se inspirando neles?

Brown – Continuo sendo o mesmo cara, interessado pelas coisas políticas do Brasil, pelo povo. Musicalmente, sempre gostei de música romântica, do Jorge Ben, Djavan, Arlindo Cruz, Zeca Pagodinho… Hoje em dia, as pessoas esperam do Brown aquele posicionamento combativo, de luta e guerra, mas aí é um personagem também, né? O Brown é um cara atuante, que tá buscando na vida novidade, força, inspiração, razões, buscando pessoas… É o que eu mais busco: pessoas. Quando as pessoas viram as costas e saem andando, você tem de saber por quê. Para dar continuidade ao trabalho, temos de caminhar pra frente, não voltar ao zero toda hora. A juventude precisa de rapidez, mobilidade de ideias, não dá pra ficar na mesma ideia todo dia. Seria uma atitude até covarde, fácil, ficar jogando mais lenha na fogueira. Então, você tem de buscar outras ideias, que passam pela raça também, com certeza.

Fórum – E essas novas ideias…

Brown – Passam pela raça, todas as ideias. Mas nenhuma ideia é desprezível.

Fórum – Você gosta de polêmicas, Brown?

Brown – O Brown está como sempre, velho e chato. Atuante, jamais calado ou inoperante. Tô aqui, ali, gesticulando, trazendo divisão de ideias, porque meu papel é esse também, trazer essas ideias, e tem de saber o que o povo quer também, não é só o que os intelectuais querem. Os comuns têm direito à opinião. E se a opinião dos comuns não for igual à dos intelectuais? Vai fazer uma ditadura, vai se isolar? Vai ter de interagir. Que nem quando escolheram o Serra, ficamos aqui, interagindo com as consequências da eleição do Serra [para prefeito, em 2004], encontrei gente na favela que votou nele. Quando a gente erra, o reflexo é violento.

Fórum – Você falou da eleição de policiais. A base de votos deles está na periferia. 

Brown – A base de voto de todo mundo. O público-alvo é a massa, os números estão aqui. Os partidos não conseguem se eleger com conceitos, é com números, com votos dos que não sabem o que estão fazendo e dos que sabem, dos brancos, índios, negros, confusos. Depois, quando estão lá em cima, decidem que direção tomar. Ter candidatos de dentro das comunidades seria bom, mas acho que isso ainda vai demorar um pouco. Do mesmo jeito que o rico se cerca com cerca elétrica, o pobre quer pular.

Fórum – Apesar de não ter candidato, a comunidade está exercendo um poder de pressão não pela via política, mas pela mobilização. Você vê que as pessoas estão experimentando novas formas de fazer política que não sejam necessariamente pelo voto?

Brown – Há quem diga que o povo que votou no Serra queria mudança, o que é uma forma de inteligência. Mas trouxe consequências gravíssimas na relação entre o povo e o poder, acabou o diálogo. Vamos ver o número de homicídios na periferia, não é possível que, por mais que sejam maquiados, que a informação seja negada, alguns excessos como essa chacina… No caso do DJ Lah, foi quando eu vi a revolta realmente, sete pessoas mortas em um lugar onde já tinha morrido um, prometida uma vingança… O povo vê a fragilidade, a opressão, o medo das famílias.

Um povo que não tinha noção de direito, de cidadania nenhuma, não sabe o que representa, o poder que tem, não confia em ninguém e, consequentemente, não respeita ninguém. Não vai respeitar o orelhão, não vai respeitar o ônibus, o que tem cheiro de sistema é alvo de agressões. É o orelhão que o moleque, por ignorância, quebra, até a casa onde ele picha. Então, a relação é entre seres humanos, não entre robôs, o comandante que está ali atrás da farda é um ser humano, o cara que dá a palestra na hora de formar o soldado é um ser humano, tem mulher, tem filhos. O que ele lê, o que assiste na TV, o que ele come, o que sofreu na infância dele pra ter esse comportamento?

“Os comuns têm direito à opinião. E se a opinião dos comuns não for igual à dos intelectuais? Vai fazer uma ditadura, vai se isolar? Vai ter de interagir”

Fórum – Recentemente, você esteve em Nova York e encontrou o Criolo lá. Quando você sai do País, você vai nas periferias? Como você vê o comportamento da juventude nesses locais?

Brown – O negro brasileiro é caloroso, e o americano é arredio, é outro comportamento. Fui lá procurar uns contatos de uns negões, uns negros muçulmanos, pesado demais cara, sombria a parada. Os caras ensinando coisas ruins para os negões, ensinando a fazer bomba, vai vendo, vai só piorando, é foda [risos]. O cara coloca na cabeça dos meninos a religião e tira a preguiça do corpo, dão motivo para o cara querer lutar.

Fórum – O Racionais, de um tempo para cá, tem sido muito ouvido na classe média. Como você lida com isso?

Brown – Há quem diga que a classe média é que cresceu muito [risos]. Mas já estava lá. Vejo com respeito, ouço crítica, elogio, converso, é importante ouvir o que eles dizem. Acho da hora que eles venham falar, até pra explicar minhas teorias, há muitos que vão de embalo, mas no caso do Racionais, estamos meio à prova de “embalista”, porque estamos há dez anos sem lançar disco, curte quem gosta mesmo. Não tem “modinha” Racionais.

Fórum – Como você tem se relacionado com os movimentos culturais, como o Tecnobrega?

Brown – Apoio. Conheci a Gaby Amarantos na MTV, mina lutadora, a nossa luta é a mesma, ela como mulher e negra, a luta é duas vezes maior. Eu dialogo com todos, o pancadão, os saraus, a várzea, até a música gospel. Sou envolvido com o começo da música gospel no Capão, não como evangélico, mas como amigo dos caras, eu gostava dos caras e eles gostavam de mim do meu jeito, a cena é forte aqui.

Fórum – Como é a história daquele diálogo inicial do Vida Loka 1?

Brown – A gente correu um certo perigo naquela gravação, porque celular em presídio é proibido, tá ligado? E é passível de punição. Ele estava preso, o disco saiu assim e não pegou nada. Houve uma falha no sistema, que estava meio embriagado de poder e nem viu nada. Naquela época a cadeia estava cheia de celular, e aí, porra, a gravação foi feita daquele jeito, ele lá dentro, falando comigo aqui fora.

Fórum – E o Santos? Você é um dos torcedores símbolos do Santos.

Brown – Não reconhecido, o Santos nunca me chama para nada, eu até conheço o presidente do Santos. Inviabilizei a contratação do Rafael Moura, ah, melei mesmo, contrata a Xuxa também, tá de brincadeira [risos]. Aquela reunião foi treta, aí eu sugeri: “Traz o André aí”. O Santos tá com um complexo de pobreza que eu não compreendo, esse negócio ridículo de colocar vidro no estádio inteiro, não dá pra ouvir as vozes da torcida, diminui a pressão. Os caras ficam batendo nos vidros, ficam parecendo loucos, esse negócio de colocar televisão nos camarotes. O setor Visa é vazio o ano inteiro, eu já perguntei ao presidente pra quem que é bom o marketing da torcida vazia, abre a câmera e o estádio está vazio.

Fórum – E o Neymar?

Brown – O Neymar é sensacional, melhor coisa que aconteceu no Brasil depois da eleição do Lula. Só poderia ter nascido no Santos mesmo, é foda, não cabe em outro time, mano. F

Agradecemos à Produtora Boogie Naipe pela colaboração

Violent Video Games Are a Risk Factor for Criminal Behavior and Aggression, New Evidence Shows (Science Daily)

Mar. 26, 2013 — People are quick to point the finger or dismiss the effect of violent video games as a factor in criminal behavior. New evidence from Iowa State researchers demonstrates a link between video games and youth violence and delinquency.

Iowa State researchers say there is a strong connection between violent video games and youth violence and delinquency. (Credit: Photo by Bob Elbert)

Matt DeLisi, a professor of sociology, said the research shows a strong connection even when controlling for a history of violence and psychopathic traits among juvenile offenders.

“When critics say, ‘Well, it’s probably not video games, it’s probably how antisocial they are,’ we can address that directly because we controlled for a lot of things that we know matter,” DeLisi said. “Even if you account for the child’s sex, age, race, the age they were first referred to juvenile court — which is a very powerful effect — and a bunch of other media effects, like screen time and exposure. Even with all of that, the video game measure still mattered.”

The results were not unexpected, but somewhat surprising for Douglas Gentile, an associate professor of psychology, who has studied the effects of video game violence exposure and minor aggression, like hitting, teasing and name-calling.

“I didn’t expect to see much of an effect when we got to serious delinquent and criminal level aggression because youth who commit that level of aggression have a lot of things going wrong for them. They often have a lot of risk factors and very few protective factors in their lives,” Gentile said.

The study published in the April issue of Youth Violence and Juvenile Justice examined the level of video game exposure for 227 juvenile offenders in Pennsylvania. The average offender had committed nearly nine serious acts of violence, such as gang fighting, hitting a parent or attacking another person in the prior year.

The results show that both the frequency of play and affinity for violent games were strongly associated with delinquent and violent behavior. Craig Anderson, Distinguished Professor of psychology and director of the Center for the Study of Violence at Iowa State, said violent video game exposure is not the sole cause of violence, but this study shows it is a risk factor.

“Can we say from this study that Adam Lanza, or any of the others, went off and killed people because of media violence? You can’t take the stand of the NRA that it’s strictly video games and not guns,” Anderson said. “You also can’t take the stand of the entertainment industry that it has nothing to do with media violence that it’s all about guns and not about media violence. They’re both wrong and they’re both right, both are causal risk factors.”

Researchers point out that juvenile offenders have several risk factors that influence their behavior. The next step is to build on this research to determine what combination of factors is the most volatile and if there is a saturation point.

“When studying serious aggression, looking at multiple risk factors matters more than looking at any one,” Gentile said. “The cutting edge of research is trying to understand in what combination do the individual risk factors start influencing each other in ways to either enhance or mitigate the odds of aggression?”

What does this mean for parents?

There is a lot of misinformation about video game exposure, Anderson said, that makes it difficult for parents to understand the harmful effects. Although it is one variable that parents can control, he understands that with mixed messages about the risks some parents may feel it’s not worth the effort.

“What parent would go through the pain and all the effort it takes to really control their child’s media diet, if they don’t really think it makes any difference? That is why it is so important to get out the simple and clear message that media violence does matter,” Anderson said.

Just because a child plays a violent video game does not mean he or she is going to act violently. Researchers say if there is a take away for parents, it is an awareness of what their children are playing and how that may influence their behavior.

“I think parents need to be truthful and honest about who their children are in terms of their psychiatric functioning,” DeLisi said. “If you have a kid who is antisocial, who is a little bit vulnerable to influence, giving them something that allows them to escape into themselves for a long period of time isn’t a healthy thing.”

Journal Reference:

  1. M. DeLisi, M. G. Vaughn, D. A. Gentile, C. A. Anderson, J. J. Shook. Violent Video Games, Delinquency, and Youth Violence: New EvidenceYouth Violence and Juvenile Justice, 2012; 11 (2): 132 DOI:10.1177/1541204012460874

Brain Scans Predict Which Criminals Are Most Likely to Reoffend (Wired)

BY GREG MILLER

03.26.13 - 3:40 PM

Photo: Erika Kyte/Getty Images

Brain scans of convicted felons can predict which ones are most likely to get arrested after they get out of prison, scientists have found in a study of 96 male offenders.

“It’s the first time brain scans have been used to predict recidivism,” said neuroscientist Kent Kiehl of the Mind Research Network in Albuquerque, New Mexico, who led the new study. Even so, Kiehl and others caution that the method is nowhere near ready to be used in real-life decisions about sentencing or parole.

Generally speaking, brain scans or other neuromarkers could be useful in the criminal justice system if the benefits in terms of better accuracy outweigh the likely higher costs of the technology compared to conventional pencil-and-paper risk assessments, says Stephen Morse, a legal scholar specializing in criminal law and neuroscience at the University of Pennsylvania. The key questions to ask, Morse says, are: “How much predictive accuracy does the marker add beyond usually less expensive behavioral measures? How subject is it to counter-measures if a subject wishes to ‘defeat’ a scan?”

Those are still open questions with regard to the new method, which Kiehl and colleagues, including postdoctoral fellow Eyal Aharoni, describe in a paper to be published this week in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

The test targets impulsivity. In a mobile fMRI scanner the researchers trucked in to two state prisons, they scanned inmates’ brains as they did a simple impulse control task. Inmates were instructed to press a button as quickly as possible whenever they saw the letter X pop up on a screen inside the scanner, but not to press it if they saw the letter K. The task is rigged so that X pops up 84 percent of the time, which predisposes people to hit the button and makes it harder to suppress the impulse to press the button on the rare trials when a K pops up.

Based on previous studies, the researchers focused on the anterior cingulate cortex, one of several brain regions thought to be important for impulse control. Inmates with relatively low activity in the anterior cingulate made more errors on the task, suggesting a correlation with poor impulse control.

They were also more likely to get arrested after they were released. Inmates with relatively low anterior cingulate activity were roughly twice as likely as inmates with high anterior cingulate activity to be rearrested for a felony offense within 4 years of their release, even after controlling for other behavioral and psychological risk factors.

“This is an exciting new finding,” said Essi Viding, a professor of developmental psychopathology at University College London. “Interestingly this brain activity measure appears to be a more robust predictor, in particular of non-violent offending, than psychopathy or drug use scores, which we know to be associated with a risk of reoffending.” However, Viding notes that Kiehl’s team hasn’t yet tried to compare their fMRI test head to head against pencil-and-paper tests specifically designed to assess the risk of recidivism. ”It would be interesting to see how the anterior cingulate cortex activity measure compares against these measures,” she said.

“It’s a great study because it brings neuroimaging into the realm of prediction,” said clinical psychologistDustin Pardini of the University of Pittsburgh. The study’s design is an improvement over previous neuroimaging studies that compared groups of offenders with groups of non-offenders, he says. All the same, he’s skeptical that brain scans could be used to predict the behavior of a given individual. ”In general we’re horrible at predicting human behavior, and I don’t see this as being any different, at least not in the near future.”

Even if the findings hold up in a larger study, there would be limitations, Pardini adds. “In a practical sense, there are just too many ways an offender could get around having an accurate representation of his brain activity taken,” he said. For example, if an offender moves his head while inside the scanner, that would render the scan unreadable. Even more subtle strategies, such as thinking about something unrelated to the task, or making mistakes on purpose, could also thwart the test.

Kiehl isn’t convinced either that this type of fMRI test will ever prove useful for assessing the risk to society posed by individual criminals. But his group is collecting more data — lots more — as part of a much larger study in the New Mexico state prisons. “We’ve scanned 3,000 inmates,” he said. “This is just the first 100.”

Kiehl hopes this work will point to new strategies for reducing criminal behavior. If low activity in the anterior cingulate does in fact turn out to be a reliable predictor of recidivism, perhaps therapies that boost activity in this region would improve impulse control and prevent future crimes, Kiehl says. He admits it’s speculative, but his group is already thinking up experiments to test the idea. ”Cognitive exercises is where we’ll start,” he said. “But I wouldn’t rule out pharmaceuticals.”

A Thousand Kinds of Life: Culture, Nature, and Anthropology (Dissent)

Yanomami villagers at an indigenous expo in Caracas (Luigino Bracci, 2011, Flickr creative commons)

By David Moberg - March 21, 2013

In the latest twist in an unusually public academic dispute, one of the world’s most influential and highly regarded anthropologists resigned in protest from the prestigious National Academy of Sciences in late February. In quitting the academy, Marshall Sahlins took aim in part at the work of fellow anthropologist Napoleon Chagnon, whose contentious memoir, Noble Savages: My Life Among Two Dangerous Tribes—The Yanamamö and the Anthropologists, was recently published by Simon & Schuster. But his action is also a skirmish in a much longer and very important debate over what it means to be human—a debate with consequences for the broader public discussion.

Sahlins, the Charles F. Grey Distinguished Service Professor Emeritus of Anthropology at the University of Chicago, said that he was leaving the 150-year-old academy for two reasons: the election of Chagnon to the NAS last year and the involvement of the NAS in research for the military. His action prompted an outpouring of petitions and statements of support from colleagues, including several hundred in Brazil.

The academy says that principled resignations like Sahlins’ are “rare”—so rare that the only precedent anyone could identify was famed Harvard biologist and geneticist Richard Lewontin’s 1971 departure in protest against NAS military work related to the war in Vietnam. In the 1960s Sahlins himself was helping to launch campus teach-ins against the Vietnam War and to raise issues about the relationship of anthropology to the military.

Sahlins initially tried to resign last year in May, after Chagnon was named to the NAS, then again in October, when he received a request sent to all eighty-four anthropologists at the academy for advice on two research projects aimed at making the military more effective. The request arrived at a time when a controversy was already smoldering in the field about anthropologists’ involvement in implementing the Human Terrain Systems counterinsurgency strategy in Iraq (the October request for help appears unrelated to HTS). The academy had indirectly been involved in military research since the allied National Research Council was established in 1916 specifically for military research. But Sahlins objected to any NAS involvement in projects such as the two proposed in October. One focused on “contextual factors that influence individual and small unit behavior,” and the other sought scientifically valid methods, including any suggested by neuroscience, for improving individual and group military performance.

The publication of Chagnon’s memoirs prompted a third, successful attempt at resignation. Sahlins had objected to the NAS admitting Chagnon—formerly at the Universities of Michigan and of California at Santa Barbara, now at the University of Missouri—because of the quality of his research and his ethics in the field. Sahlins is also critical of both the theoretical and empirical underpinnings of sociobiology, more often referred to now as evolutionary psychology. A minority of anthropologists adopt its viewpoint. But many non-anthropologists—such as Richard Dawkins, Stephen Pinker, and Jared Diamond—have used the work of Chagnon and like-minded anthropologists to reach a large audience.

Fundamentally, this group of writers and researchers see biology as destiny. They argue that biological evolution defines human nature through the inheritance of traits that provide individuals with a reproductive advantage—that is, with more offspring.

In the late 1960s Chagnon worked among the Yanomami people living on both sides of the border between Venezuela and Brazil. He portrayed the Yanomami—which he dubbed “the fierce people,” for their frequent inter-village warfare—as living in a “state of nature” essentially like that of our Paleolithic ancestors. And he claimed to present evidence that men who were “killers” had many more offspring—which, even when he occasionally hedged, others took as proof that evolution favored and preserved traits for male aggression and violence.

Anthropologists, including Sahlins, have since criticized nearly every aspect of Chagnon’s research. (See “Natural Born Nonkillers.”) For example, many note that other tribal people have relatively peaceful, cooperative cultures. Research from various perspectives also runs counter to Chagnon’s argument that evolution rewards killers with more offspring—including computer simulations of evolution, studies of animal behavior showing that killing within a species is rare, even military studies of how men in combat try to avoid killing others. In any case, critics say, the Yanomami were not in a pristine state of nature when Chagnon first visited: they had a history, including likely displacement from their original land by pressures from European colonial settlers and some continuing contact with the wider world that led to the acquisition of a few trade goods. There were many more charges that his data were flawed. To take one example, Chagnon categorized Yanomami men as killers or not killers based on their own classification as unokai or not unokai. But the term identifies a man who has gone through a purification ritual, which was used by both real “killers” and by men who, say, had employed sorcery.

In 2000 journalist Patrick Tierney published Darkness in El Dorado, which accused Chagnon of spreading fatal diseases (like measles) through his collaboration with geneticist James V. Neel, of fomenting some of the inter-village fighting, and other ethical offenses. The American Anthropological Association established a taskforce that dismissed some of Tierney’s most lurid charges but concluded that Chagnon, among other lapses, did not get informed consent from Yanomami research subjects and may have improperly delayed immunizations he and Neel were providing. At its convention, the AAA adopted the taskforce’s report and criticisms, but later Chagnon’s supporters moved to rescind the report largely on procedural grounds. With only 10 percent of members voting, the AAA reversed its endorsement of the report—which Chagnon backers inappropriately claimed as the profession’s vindication of his work.

Sahlins first weighed in against sociobiology in the mid-1970s with The Use and Abuse of Biology, but he has continued to pursue many of the same critical themes in recent books, such as What Kinship Is—And Is Not and The Western Illusion of Human Nature. He argues that human nature is culture—that is, the learned values, beliefs, and patterns of behavior that social groups follow or believe they should follow, as well as the capacity to change those ideas passed from previous generations. Culture—and not some special features of biological evolution, like a carnivore’s teeth or the short beak of a seed-eating bird—provides humans with a flexible, varied means of adapting to a wide and changing variety of circumstances.

Homo sapiens evolved biologically and mentally from our hominid ancestors over several million years within the context of the hominid tool-making culture. “What evolved was our capacity to realize biological necessities, from sex to nutrition, in the thousand different ways that different societies have developed,” Sahlins says. “Hence, culture, the symbolically organized modes of the ways we live, including our bodily functioning, is the specifically ‘human nature.’”

Sahlins argues against the sociobiologists’ neo-Hobbesian view of human nature as a war of all against all—with a brutal, competitive nature clashing with culture. This view of human nature has deep roots in Western cultural traditions, he writes, but it also projects a more modern capitalist view of self-interested, even selfish, behavior on both humanity and the rest of the natural world. In many other societies, people do not see the same sharp division between nature and culture. And all human societies have systems of kinship, which Sahlins defines as “mutuality of being,” meaning that “kinfolk are members of one another, intrinsic to each other’s identity and existence.”

“Symbolically and emotionally, kinfolk live each other’s lives and die each other’s deaths,” Sahlins says. “Why don’t scientists base their ideas of human nature on this truly universal condition—a condition in which self-interest at the expense of others is precluded by definition, insofar as people are parts of one another?” Sahlins cites a classic definition of kinship first developed by Aristotle: kinfolk are in various degrees other selves of ourselves.

Moreover, this kinship is not biological. There are many ways besides birth that societies have developed notions of mutual being, Sahlins says. For example, in the highlands of New Guinea, strangers can become your kin by eating from the land where your ancestors are buried. The food raised on that land is in effect the transubstantiation of the ancestors. Accordingly, people who eat from it share ancestral being. In the local conception, they are as much kin to each other as people who have the same parents.

In the West, and even in much anthropological writing past and present, kinship is treated as genealogy, or biology. But even biological reproduction, Sahlins argues, takes place within the context of a particular kinship system, and to reproduce children is to reproduce that culturally defined kinship order. And in most cultures, notions of kinship diverge, often dramatically, from our “folk theory,” with its emphasis on biological genealogy. In any case, all human societies exist within some framework of “mutuality of being,” which starkly contrasts with the view of human life run by selfish genes.


In an email interview, Sahlins responded to a few questions about his resignation, incorporating some passages from his recent writings.

DM: You offered two reasons for your resignation from the National Academy of Sciences. Starting with the election of Napoleon Chagnon to the NAS, what were your most important objections to that election—the quality of his scholarship, professional ethics in the field, or other issues?

MS: He deals in caricature: of the people he studies, of science, of anthropological theory, of fellow anthropologists, and of himself as a beleaguered “fierce person.” His vicious misrepresentations of Yanomami as savage and disgusting have, as many local scholars have pointed out, aided and abetted national and entrepreneurial forces anxious to exploit and pollute their land and, directly or indirectly, drive them to extinction. Likewise, his own fieldwork methods have contributed to the sufferings and destabilization of the Yanomami (as I discussed in an article for the Washington Post).

The idea that the Yanomami represent the primordial human condition of the Stone Age is preposterous. Why them and not the numerous other, quite different societies—including many, such as Australian aboriginals, with just as modest economies but a quite different social order and inter-group relationships? In fact, all have long histories, including dynamic relations with other societies, that remove them as far from the Paleolithic as modern nations. Moreover, as other studies of Yanomami show, they have a richness of oral tradition (so-called mythology), a spiritual pantheon, and a metaphysics of culture and nature that is virtually totally ignored by Chagnon where it is not simply dismissed.

Compared to the rich fieldwork of many Amazonian anthropologists, his ethnography is shallow. His generalizations are sophomoric. His thesis about the reproductive success of Yanomami warriors, contradicted by his own data, has been thoroughly refuted by others. His evolutionary anthropology is from the ancien régime, outdated by almost a century.

DM: You argue that “biologism” is the problem, that “human nature is culture,” and that Western thought in general is dominated by the idea that there is a conflict between a disruptive human nature and vulnerable culture. How would you address a predictable layperson’s view that surely human nature must be at least in part an independent biology as well as culture? What essential qualities, if any, do you think “human nature” may have if it is indeed defined in terms of culture?

MS: Yes, all cultures have sex, aggression, etc., but whether and how it is expressed is subordinate to the cultural order. Sociobiologists say that individuals achieve immortality by having many children, but apparently no one ever told that to the Catholic clergy. The important point is not that all cultures have sex, but that all sex has culture, that is, social norms that specify with whom, how, where, and when sexual relations are appropriate or inappropriate. Culture preceded modern human physical form by a million years or more. The body of the modern human species, Homo sapiens, was formed under the aegis of culture. What evolved was the ability and necessity to realize our bodily needs and dispositions in cultural forms.

Biology became the dependent variable. These needs had to be subordinate to and encompassed by their cultural forms of expression, otherwise how could the same needs or dispositions be realized in the thousands of different ways known to history and ethnography—the various cultural ways of having sex, eating, being aggressive, and the like? As Clifford Geertz put it, we “all begin with the natural equipment to live a thousand kinds of life but end in the end having lived only one.” That can only be if our natural dispositions were subject to cultural ordering rather than the source thereof.

For over two thousand years, Western people have been haunted recurrently by the specter of their own inner being: an apparition of human nature so covetous and contentious that unless it is somehow governed it will plunge society into anarchy. Indeed, by the twentieth century the worst in us had become the best. In the neoliberal view, self-interest in the form of each person’s pursuit of happiness at the cost of whom it might concern was a god-given right. The insatiable love of the flesh that for Augustine was slavery became “freedom” itself. Likewise, then, political Augustinism has been reversed: self-interest having been transformed from slavery to liberty, the least government is now the best. Although for neoliberalism the ancient vice of self-love is greatly to be desired, in other native anthropologies it remains a potentially fatal quality of the human make-up.

DM: Given the harsh criticism of Chagnon’s work by the American Anthropological Association, the leading professional academic organization in the field, how do you account for the NAS decision and for the apparent popular appeal of his work, such as suggested by two recent, highly sympathetic articles about him and his new memoir in the New York Times?

MS: NAS decision? I am not sure, but I believe that many members, those who elected him, have a natural science sense of anthropology, as archaeologists almost have by necessity, and Chagnon promotes himself under that description. Popularity? Mostly on college campuses, I would think, from his textbooks and movies, which resonate with certain popular undergraduate preoccupations: sex, drugs, and violence. America.

DM: You also said that you were resigning because the NAS was supporting social science research on improving combat performance of the U.S. military. To what extent is support for such military-related research a new or growing development within the NAS?

MS: Since resigning I have learned that the NAS, with its charter of research for the nation, engaged in secret military research as far back as the Vietnam War, and who knows how much before or since. At least one prominent scientist, the extraordinary biologist Richard Lewontin, has resigned from the NAS for that reason. Professor Lewontin did so in 1971.

DM: You suggest that NAS should instead, if it does anything in the field, study how to promote peace. Do you have any suggestions about what sort of research would be useful for anthropologists or others to pursue to that end?

MS: What are the consequences of attempts to forcefully impose democracy on societies with no such traditions? Especially, how does the imposition of “winner-take-all” democratic elections in ethnically divided societies exacerbate violence, as has happened time and again in many postcolonial societies in recent decades? How does the reframing of local differences in terms of international issues, backed by opposed international forces, create a virtual state of nature, as happened in Iraq, India, Sri Lanka, and many other similar situations, going back to the encompassment of local disputes in the opposition between democratic-imperial Athens and oligarchic Sparta in the Peloponnesian War? (See “Iraq, The State of Nature Effect.”)

DM: Finally, do you see any connection between your two reasons for resigning or are they independent motivations?

MS: There is a connection: it is referenced in one of my answers in a Counterpunch article by David Price. The premise of American overseas aggression, according to Donald Rumsfeld and others, is something like the line in the movie Full Metal Jacket: “inside every gook there is an American trying to get out.” All we have to do to liberate this innately freedom-loving, self-interested, democracy-needing, capitalist-in-waiting is to rid him of the oppressive, evil-minded regime holding him down—by force if necessary. That is, Chagnon’s view of self-aggrandizing human nature is the sociobiological equivalent of the neocon premise of the virtues of American imperialism: making the world safe for self-interest. It is the same native Western ideology of the innate character of mankind. A huge ethnocentric and egocentric philosophy of human nature underlies the double imperialism of our sociobiological science and our global militarism.


David Moberg is a senior editor at In These Times.

Security Risks of Extreme Weather and Climate Change (Science Daily)

Feb. 11, 2013 — A Harvard researcher is pointing toward a new reason to worry about the effects of climate change — national security.

Hurricane Katrina. Predicted changes in extremes include more record high temperatures; fewer but stronger tropical cyclones; wider areas of drought and increases in precipitation; increased climate variability; Arctic warming and attendant impacts; and continued sea level rise as greenhouse warming continues and even accelerates. (Credit: NOAA)

A new report co-authored by Michael McElroy, the Gilbert Butler Professor of Environmental Studies, and D. James Baker, a former administrator of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, connects global climate change, extreme weather, and national security. During the next decade, the report concludes, climate change could have wide-reaching effects on everything from food, water, and energy supplies to critical infrastructure and economic security.

“Over the last century, the trend has been toward urbanization — to concentrate people in smaller areas,” McElroy said. “We’ve built an infrastructure — whether it’s where we build our homes or where we put our roads and bridges — that fits with that trend. If the weather pattern suddenly changes in a serious way, it could create very large problems. Bridges may be in the wrong place, or sea walls may not be high enough.”

Possible effects on critical infrastructure, however, only scratch the surface of the security concerns.

On an international scale, the report points to recent events, such as flooding in Pakistan and sustained drought in eastern Africa, that may be tied to changing weather patterns. How the United States responds to such disasters — whether by delivering humanitarian aid or through technical support — could affect security.

“By recognizing the immediacy of these risks, the U.S. can enhance its own security and help other countries do a better job of preparing for and coping with near-term climate extremes,” Baker said.

The report suggests that climate changes could even have long-reaching political effects.

It’s possible, McElroy said, that climate changes may have contributed to the uprisings of the Arab Spring by causing a rise in food prices, or that the extended drought in northern Mexico has contributed to political instability and a rise in drug trafficking in the region.

“We don’t have definitive answers, but our report raises these questions, because what we are saying is that these conditions are likely to be more normal than they were in the past,” McElroy said. “There are also questions related to sea-level rise. The conventional wisdom is that sea level is rising by a small amount, but observations show it’s rising about twice as fast as the models suggested. Could it actually go up by a large amount in a short period? I don’t think you can rule that out.”

Other potential effects, McElroy said, are tied to changes in an atmospheric circulation pattern called the Hadley circulation, in which warm tropical air rises, resulting in tropical rains. As the air moves to higher latitudes, it descends, causing the now-dry air to heat up. Regions where the hot, dry air returns to the surface are typically dominated by desert.

The problem, he said, is that evidence shows those arid regions are expanding.

“The observational data suggest that the Hadley circulation has expanded by several degrees in latitude,” McElroy said. “That’s a big deal, because if you shift where deserts are by just a few degrees, you’re talking about moving the southwestern desert into the grain-producing region of the country, or moving the Sahara into southern Europe.”

The report is the result of the authors’ involvement with Medea, a group of scientists who support the U.S. government by examining declassified national security data useful for scientific inquiry. In recent decades, the group has worked with officials in the United States and Russia to declassify data on climatic conditions in the Arctic and thousands of spy satellite images. Those images have been used to study ancient settlement patterns in the Middle East and changes in Arctic ice.

“I would be reluctant to say that our report is the last word on short-term climate change,” McElroy said. “Climate change is a moving target. We’ve done an honest, useful assessment of the state of play today, but we will need more information and more hard work to get it right. One of the recommendations in our report is the need for a serious investment in measurement and observation. It’s really important to keep doing that, otherwise we’re going to be flying blind.”

The study was conducted with funds provided by the Central Intelligence Agency. Any opinions, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this material are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the view of the CIA or the U.S. government.

Report: Climate Extremes: Recent Trends with Implications for National Security at www.environment.harvard.edu/climate-extremes

Aggressive Advertising Makes for Aggressive Men (Science Daily)

Feb. 28, 2013 — Does advertising influence society, or is it merely a reflection of society’s pre-existing norms? Where male attitudes are concerned, a new study implicates magazine advertisements specifically aimed at men as helping to reinforce a certain set of views on masculinity termed “hyper-masculinity.” The article by Megan Vokey, a Ph.D. candidate from the University of Manitoba, and colleagues is published in Springer’s journal Sex Roles.

Hyper-masculinity is an extreme form of masculine gender ideology comprising four main components: toughness, violence, dangerousness and calloused attitudes toward women and sex. The authors found that hyper-masculine depictions of men, centered on this cluster of beliefs, appear to be common place in U.S. magazine advertisements.

Using a range of eight, high-circulation magazines marketed to men of different ages, levels of education and income (e.g. Golf Digest to Game Informer), Vokey and her colleagues analyzed the ads in each magazine where a photograph, picture or symbol of a man was shown. The researchers then categorized these advertisements using the four components that constitute hyper-masculinity. They found that at least one of these hyper-masculine attitudes was depicted in 56 percent of the total sample of 527 advertisements. In some magazines, this percentage was as high as 90 percent.

Vokey’s results are consistent with considerable prior research showing a positive association between hyper-masculine beliefs and a host of social and health problems, such as dangerous driving, drug use and violence towards women. Further analysis of the data showed that magazines with the highest proportion of hyper-masculine advertisements were those aimed at younger, less-affluent and less-educated men. The authors argue that this is an area of real concern as young men are still learning appropriate gender behaviors, and their beliefs and attitudes can be subtly shaped by images that the mass media repeatedly represent. In addition, men with lower social and economic power are already more likely to use a facade of toughness and physical violence as methods of gaining power and respect. These advertisements are thought to help reinforce the belief that this is desirable behavior..

The authors conclude, “The widespread depiction of hyper-masculinity in men’s magazine advertising may be detrimental to both men and society at large.. Although theoretically, men as a group can resist the harmful aspects of hyper-masculine images, the effects of such images cannot be escaped completely.” They add that educating advertisers about the potential negative consequences of their advertising may help reduce the use of these stereotypes.

Journal Reference:

  1. Megan Vokey, Bruce Tefft, Chris Tysiaczny. An Analysis of Hyper-Masculinity in Magazine AdvertisementsSex Roles, 2013; DOI: 10.1007/s11199-013-0268-1

Notas sobre a violência – De antropólogos e outras tribos ferozes (Folha de S.Paulo)

DOMINGO, 17 DE MARÇO DE 2013

MARCELO LEITE

RESUMO Antropólogo Napoleon Chagnon retoma em novo livro teoria sobre agressividade ianomâmi e ataca adversários da sociobiologia. Jared Diamond escreve obra de bases semelhantes, mas mais generosa com ‘primitivos’, aproximando-se de adversários de Chagnon, como Manuela Carneiro da Cunha, que lança coletânea.

É preciso ter estômago forte para digerir a narrativa de um antropólogo que escolhe iniciar o relato de seu primeiro dia de campo entre os ianomâmis -meio século depois- com a frase: “Nunca antes tinha visto tanto ranho verde”. Não é a antropologia, porém, a disciplina que ensina a combinar o máximo de disciplina com o mínimo de conforto em benefício do entendimento do homem?

Leia-se então com dose generosa de bonomia antropológica a obra mais recente do americano Napoleon Chagnon, “Noble Savages – My Life among two Dangerous Tribes – The Yanomamö and the Anthropologists” [Simon & Schuster, 531 págs., R$ 87,50]. Em desagravo, que seja, porque Chagnon pagou um preço alto demais por sua crença nas explicações ultradarwinistas do comportamento, cuja matriz -a natureza humana- acredita ter desvendado nas selvas do Orinoco.

O estudioso americano dedicou pelo menos duas décadas de sua vida a longas permanências em terras ianomâmis, quase sempre na Venezuela (com desastradas incursões também do lado brasileiro). As três seguintes ele ocupou em defesa da carreira e da reputação quase arruinadas por dois outros livros: “O Povo Feroz” (1968), trabalho acadêmico de sua própria lavra, e “Trevas no Eldorado”, um panfleto do jornalista Patrick Tierney (2000).

Os que desconhecem a crônica dessa guerra entre os clãs cultural e biológico da antropologia encontrarão um resumo devastador das acusações mútuas no documentário “Os Segredos da Tribo”, de José Padilha. Não se recomenda o consumo de pipoca na sessão de barbaridades que a fita apresenta.

O povo feroz do título de Chagnon são os ianomâmis. Sua caracterização pelo antropólogo como uma etnia violenta, de homens “maliciosos, agressivos e intimidadores”, que acumulam homicídios para obter mais mulheres e maior sucesso reprodutivo, despertou a ira dos antropólogos culturalistas.

Primeiro, Chagnon foi acusado de distorcer a imagem do grupo e, assim, facilitar sua dizimação por brancos dos dois lados da fronteira. Depois, foi denunciado por Tierney como genocida, pois teria -intencional ou negligentemente, sob a tutela do médico americano James V. Neel- contribuído para uma epidemia de sarampo que matou centenas de índios.

BOM SELVAGEM ”Noble Savages” (“bons selvagens”) é um acerto de contas com as duas tribos que infernizaram sua vida. A partir da descrição para o público não especializado de seu convívio de cinco anos com os ianomâmis, Chagnon retoma sua conclusão de que o “bom selvagem” concebido por Rousseau é um mito politicamente correto e que só há uma resposta biológica (evolucionista) -e simploriamente hobbesiana- para a questão de por que seres humanos são sociais: a luta de todos contra todos para aumentar a própria prole (ou pôr mais cópias dos próprios genes no mundo, na vulgata sociobiológica).

Não faltam páginas desairosas para os ianomâmis no livro. “Olhei para cima e arfei, em choque, quando vi uma dúzia de homens corpulentos, nus, suados e pavorosos nos encarando por trás dos caniços de suas setas apontadas!” -conta sobre a primeira visita a uma casa coletiva dos índios.

“Imensos rolos de tabaco verde estavam enfiados entre os dentes e os lábios inferiores, tornando sua aparência ainda mais pavorosa. Veios de ranho verde escuro pingavam ou pendiam de suas narinas -tão longos que se desprendiam de seus queixos, caíam sobre os músculos peitorais e escorriam preguiçosamente sobre seus ventres, mesclando-se com a pintura vermelha e o suor.”

Chagnon também não economiza relatos sobre tentativas mal sucedidas de engodo dos ianomâmis contra ele. Sempre eficazes, por outro lado, eram seus próprios ardis para levá-los a ceder amostras de sangue (para Neel) e a revelar nomes de ancestrais mortos -um tabu- para rechear suas genealogias e estatísticas. As mesmas informações, pagas com machados, facas e panelas de metal, que lhe permitiriam afirmar, depois, serem os homens com mais homicídios nas costas também os de prole mais numerosa.

Muito antes das acusações de Tierney, as conclusões sociobiológicas e os métodos traficantes de Chagnon já vinham sendo questionados por seus pares na comunidade antropológica. Até a correlação estatística entre ferocidade e fertilidade masculina, formulada num famigerado artigo de 1988 para a revista acadêmica “Science”, teve seus dados postos em dúvida (o autor foi acusado de excluir da amostra aqueles pais que já haviam sido mortos por vingança, portanto sem meios de multiplicar descendência).

Os antropólogos culturais, refratários à moldura biológica em que Chagnon queria enquadrar o painel exuberante das culturas, já estavam no seu encalço. Nada se compara, porém, com a virulência do ataque de Tierney. Assim que um capítulo do livro foi publicado na revista “New Yorker”, em outubro de 2000, a Associação Antropológica Americana entrou na briga -do lado dos culturalistas. Foi montado um comitê de investigação, que acabou por inocentar o médico Neel e descartar a epidemia intencional, mas recriminou Chagnon por desvios éticos.

O caso teve enorme repercussão na imprensa mundial, brasileira inclusive. Contudo, quando a obra do “jornalista investigativo” Tierney e os próprios investigadores da AAA passaram a ser investigados, a começar pela historiadora da ciência Susan Lindee, o vento virou.

Forçada por um referendo entre seus membros, a associação renegaria o relatório. As acusações de Tierney não paravam de pé, como reconstitui com farta documentação um ensaio demolidor da também historiadora Alice Dreger publicado em 2011 no periódico acadêmico “Human Nature”, sob o título “Darkness’s descent on the American Anthropological Association. A cautionary tale” (trevas sobre a Associação Antropológica Americana – uma fábula moral; leia em bit.ly/adreger).

Dreger puxa vários fios da teia de perseguição a Chagnon. Levanta a suspeita, intrigante, de que a cruzada de Tierney pode ter ocorrido sob o patrocínio da Igreja Católica, mais especificamente da ordem de padres salesianos, que já mantinha missões junto aos ianomâmis da Venezuela quando o antropólogo por lá baixou.

Após alguns meses de convívio e cooperação, cientista e religiosos se estranharam. Na versão fantástica narrada em “Noble Savages”, isso ocorreu depois de um hierarca pedir a Chagnon ajuda para matar um padre amasiado com índia. Na passagem do livro que mais se avizinha do estilo de Tierney, o antropólogo também acusa os salesianos de distribuir espingardas cartucheiras entre os índios para conquistar seu favor.

A inconsistência mais relevante da obra, porém, não decorre do ânimo retaliatório, e sim da pretensão de ter localizado entre os ianomâmis as nascentes da agressividade que supõe inerente à natureza humana. A antropóloga Elizabeth Povinelli assinalou, numa resenha escaldante de “Noble Savages” para o “New York Times”, que a tese se assenta sobre a premissa falaciosa de que os ianomâmis sejam relíquias de uma infância neolítica da humanidade.

FÓSSEIS Desde esse ponto de vista, compreende-se melhor o esforço retórico de Chagnon em degradar os ianomâmis, acentuando nas suas descrições uma animalidade que serve para relocar sua cultura na vizinhança da biologia. Ora, não há básica empírica nenhuma para afirmar que sociedades “primitivas” como a dos ianomâmis se mantiveram à margem da história, fósseis de um passado inaugural da espécie humana.

Como lembra Manuela Carneiro da Cunha -que presidia a Associação Brasileira de Antropologia quando esta cerrou fileiras contra Chagnon- na coletânea de ensaios “Índios no Brasil – História, Direitos e Cidadania” [Claro Enigma, 160 págs., R$ 29,50], essa é uma visão originária do século 19, que atribui “à natureza e à fatalidade de suas leis o que é produto de política e práticas humanas, [...] consoladoras para todos à exceção de suas vítimas”.

Os ianomâmis, por exemplo, só permaneceram mais ou menos isolados (na realidade, longas redes de contatos já lhes garantiam acesso a artefatos de metal) porque suas terras montanhosas não interessavam a colonizador algum.

A perspectiva adotada por Chagnon -um engenheiro convertido para a antropologia- faz tábula rasa de tudo que há de peculiar no modo de vida ianomâmi. Por que cargas d’água esses índios cremam seus mortos, moem os ossos calcinados e ingerem as cinzas com um mingau de banana? É esse tipo de manifestação simbólica que a antropologia cultural se esforça por sistematizar e elucidar, mas que a obra de Chagnon relega à penumbra dos detalhes irrelevantes para a “natureza humana”.

Ótica semelhante anima o último best-seller de outro adepto declarado da sociobiologia (rebatizada psicologia evolucionista), Jared Diamond, mas com resultados muito diversos, se não opostos. Em “The World until Yesterday – What Can We Learn from Traditional Societies?” [Viking, 512 págs., R$ 96,90], Diamond acredita piamente ter aberto uma janela para o passado nas suas décadas de visitas à Nova Guiné para estudar pássaros.

A ilha, fervilhante com centenas de tribos e línguas em contato e conflito, constitui um continente cultural descoberto como tal por ocidentais só nas primeiras décadas do século 20. Fornece a Diamond, portanto, o equivalente dos ianomâmis para Chagnon, em matéria de isolamento e primitivismo.

As diferenças entre esses dois generalizadores prodigiosos, contudo, salta já do título de Diamond. Ao contrário de Chagnon, ele está aberto -mais que isso, interessado- a aprender algo com os nativos, e não só sobre eles. São muitas as lições úteis que o observador de pássaros e homens extrai para o aperfeiçoamento marginal do indubitavelmente superior modo de vida ocidental: ingerir menos sal, aleitar bebês à vontade até os três anos, dar educação bilíngue às crianças, fazer refeições lentamente com amigos…

Até das ameaças constantes da natureza e do estado de guerra crônica entre os primitivos Diamond retira um ensinamento, centro de gravidade do livro, que chama de “paranoia construtiva”: o estado de vigilância permanente para os muitos perigos que a vida oferece aos homens. Depois de embasbacar multidões com as generalizações audazes de “Armas, Germes e Aço” (livro pelo qual ganhou o Pulitzer em 1998), Diamond corteja com leveza o gênero da autoajuda e compila um volume de leitura bem mais amena que

“Noble Savages”. Os ilhéus são feios e sujos como os ianomâmis, mas simpáticos e sábios.

Já a paranoia de Chagnon, se cabe falar assim, é corrosiva. Nos termos da controvérsia que animou o Brasil escravizador de índios nos séculos 18 e 19, relatada por Manuela Carneiro da Cunha, eles podem ser encarados como cães, canibais e ferozes, ou como homens, diferentes e por isso exemplares de capacidade adaptativa e perfectibilidade. É uma questão de escolha, ou de ponto de vista.

Como diz a antropóloga, repetindo o que ouviu em conferência de Claude Lévi-Strauss, a sociodiversidade pode ser tão preciosa quanto a biodiversidade: “Creio, com efeito, que ela constitui essa reserva de achados na qual as futuras gerações poderão encontrar exemplos -e quem sabe novos pontos de partida- de processos e sínteses sociais já postos à prova”.

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Em 2012, Napoleon Chagnon foi eleito para a prestigiada Academia Nacional de Ciências (NAS) dos Estados Unidos. Ato contínuo, em protesto, o antropólogo Marshall Sahlins -que em 2000 se engajara na campanha contra ele- renunciou à sua cadeira na NAS.

Manifesto de 17 antropólogos que trabalham com ianomâmis deblaterou mais uma vez contra a noção de “povo feroz” reiterada no novo livro, que poderia ser usada por governos para prejudicar a etnia. Uma nota do líder ianomâmi David Kopenawa sobre a obra aponta as guerras dos brancos como muito mais ferozes que as de seu povo -uma observação antropologicamente perspicaz, ao menos no que respeita às tribos dos culturalistas e dos sociobiólogos.

Palmeiras tenta barrar agressores da Mancha até em jogos fora do país (Folha de S.Paulo)

12/03/2013 - 19h58

FABIO LEITE

DE SÃO PAULO

O Palmeiras montou uma operação para tentar impedir a entrada dos integrantes da Mancha Alviverde que agrediram jogadores no aeroporto em Buenos Aires, na semana passada, em todos os jogos do time, até fora do país.

O clube está identificando os envolvidos no episódio para prestar queixa por lesão corporal à polícia de São Paulo e entregar um dossiê à FPF (Federação Paulista de Futebol) com os nomes e as imagens do incidente.

O objetivo é que a entidade proíba a entrada dos torcedores nos estádios paulistas. “Assim que chegar o material providenciamos a resolução para o impedimento da entrada desses torcedores”, disse o coronel Marcos Marinho, chefe do departamento de segurança da FPF.

Ontem, o presidente palmeirense, Paulo Nobre, e o mandatário da federação, Marco Polo Del Nero, combinaram que a entidade vai enviar os nomes dos agressores à Polícia Federal como um alerta de que eles podem cometer crime fora do país.

O clube fará ao menos mais um jogo no exterior, contra o Sporting Cristal, no Peru, dia 18 de abril, pela última rodada da fase de grupos da Libertadores.

“Estamos dando sequência àquilo que foi falado [punição aos agressores], até que esses irresponsáveis sejam realmente enquadrados”, disse o diretor-executivo do clube, José Carlos Brunoro nesta segunda-feira.

A ideia é de que o dossiê seja concluído esta semana e seja enviado também ao ministro do Esporte, Aldo Rebelo.

AGRESSÃO
A agressão ocorreu na última quinta-feira, no embarque da delegação alviverde no Aeroparque, em Buenos Aires, após a derrota para o Tigre por 1 a 0 pela Libertadores.

Um grupo da Mancha tentou agredir Valdivia atirando xícaras na sala de embarque sob alegação de que o meia havia feito um gesto obsceno a um torcedor da facção que o xingara antes da partida.

Estilhaços atingiram o goleiro Fernando Prass, que sofreu um corte na orelha e levou três pontos na cabeça.

Após o caso, Paulo Nobre disse que não daria mais ingressos às torcidas organizadas até que os culpados sejam apresentados. A Mancha ainda avalia o que irá fazer.

Outras três facções palmeirenses pediram ao clube que a punição ficasse restrita à Mancha porque não participaram da agressão, mas o Palmeiras optou por manter a medida.

“Nós somos inocentes, mas fomos prejudicados nesta história. Acatamos a decisão da diretoria, mas não concordamos”, disse o presidente da TUP (Torcida Uniformizada do Palmeiras), Marcelo Moura Lima.

“Nós não fazemos distinção. Organizada é organizada”, justificou Brunoro.

O mercado de almas selvagens (Rolling Stone)

Edição 63 – Dezembro de 2011

Missionários cristãos investem pesado na evangelização dos índios brasileiros com métodos ortodoxos, investimento internacional e persistência messiânica

O Mercado de almas selvagensINDIO SAN

por FELIPE MILANEZ

Jesus ressuscitou. Saiu do sepulcro e apareceu primeiro para Maria Madalena. Em seguida, ela anunciou aos que haviam estado com ele. Manifestou-se a dois que iam para o campo, e depois a outros. Finalmente, de acordo com o Evangelho segundo Marcos, capítulo 16, Jesus apareceu aos 11 assentados à mesa “e lançou-lhes em rosto a sua incredulidade e dureza de coração, por não haverem crido nos que o tinham visto já ressuscitado”. Disparou então, segundo o livro sagrado dos cristãos, a mensagem determinante da “missão”, em versículos 15 e 16:

“E disse-lhes: ide por todo o mundo, pregai o evangelho a toda criatura.”

“Quem crer e for batizado será salvo; mas quem não crer será condenado.”

No versículo 17, ainda segundo Marcos, Jesus vai mais longe: “E estes sinais seguirão aos que crerem: em meu nome expulsarão os demônios, falarão novas línguas”.

Condenadas à danação de um pecado original estão as criaturas não batizadas, portanto, todas as culturas não cristãs. Aos crentes, foi dada a obrigação, na forma de uma missão, da evangelização universal: eles deveriam traduzir a Bíblia para todas as línguas. Tarefa arriscada nos “confins da Terra”, que viria a ser complementada, pelo versículo 18, com a proteção divina: “Pegarão nas serpentes; e, se beberem alguma coisa mortífera, não lhes fará dano algum; e porão as mãos sobre os enfermos, e os curarão”.

Outubro de 2011, Caldas Novas, interior de Goiás: em um hotel de águas termais, tendas estão dispostas como uma conferência comercial, ou como uma feira de negócios na qual empresas utilizam estandes para vender seus pacotes e produtos. “Judeus por Jesus”; “Curso de Evangelização de Árabes”; “Missão Novas Tribos do Brasil”; “Adote um Povo”. Índios, ciganos, quilombolas, pobres do sertão nordestino: no VI Congresso Brasileiro de Missões, todas as criaturas desprovidas possuem representantes que negociam suas almas.

Minha alma, ateia, é a única condenada que circula pelo local. “Experimenta uma vez”, diz um senhor, com sorriso maroto no rosto. “Sou careta”, brinco. Ele quer que eu experimente a religião dele, como se fosse uma cápsula de felicidade a ser engolida. “Experimenta, você não vai se arrepender. Você vai ser feliz.”

Desconverso, contando histórias de aventuras na Amazônia. “Já sei”, diz o pastor Thomas Gregory. “Precisamos de gente com coragem.” Ele me oferece um exemplar do livro O Contrabandista de Deus, com a seguinte dedicatória: “Por Jesus vale a pena gastar nossas vidas! Experimente!” Em seguida, me apresenta a um jovem destemido da missão “Portas Abertas: Servindo Cristãos Perseguidos”. “Estamos indo traficar Bíblias para a China em dezembro. Ano que vem, vamos levar até a Coreia do Norte”, o rapaz me relata, determinado, consciente dos riscos de antecipar o que acredita ser o “julgamento final” e negando qualquer tipo de medo. “Não. Jesus está comigo”, diz.

No encontro organizado pela Associação de Missões Transculturais Brasileiras (AMTB), os índios são apenas uma parte de um universo pagão de almas condenadas. Parte pequena, porém cobiçada: de acordo com levantamento da própria AMTB, os índios são compreendidos como 616 mil indivíduos de 340 etnias (para a Funai são 220) e que falam 181 línguas. Ainda segundo os mesmos cálculos, no Brasil há 69 línguas sem a Bíblia traduzida, 182 etnias contam com presença missionária evangélica e 257 programas de evangelização estão em curso, coordenados por cerca de 15 agências missionárias de diferentes denominações evangélicas históricas, mas em sua maioria batista, associadas à AMTB.

De todas as almas selvagens existentes, as consideradas mais valiosas são as dos índios ditos “isolados”: elas representam o universo a ser conquistado e cuja alma adquire maior valor, econômico e moral, no mercado espiritual. O levantamento da AMTB indica que 147 etnias não possuem a presença missionária evangélica, e que 27 povos seriam considerados “isolados”. O principal desafio que consta no relatório “Indígenas do Brasil” são as “etnias remotas (com pouco ou nenhum contato externo)”, que somam 42 povos. A lista mais recente da Funai, a ser divulgada, aponta 84 referências onde podem existir povos indígenas sem contato. Nesses locais, geralmente áreas de difícil acesso, é proibida a entrada de qualquer indivíduo sem a autorização da Funai.

Os “índios isolados” são as comunidades indígenas que vivem de forma autônoma na floresta, evitam a aproximação com o universo ocidental e esse contato, se ocorrer, é eventual e conflituoso. A ocupação recente da Amazônia ocasionou os primeiros encontros com diversos povos, como os zo’é e suruwahá, que a Funai considera de “recente contato”. Eles recebem proteção especial em razão da vulnerabilidade física da população, suscetível a epidemias.

O principal objetivo dessas agências evangelizadoras é “alcançar” outras culturas com a leitura de sua forma de crença, daí o aspecto “trans” do tema “cultural” das religiões. “Precisamos de mais 500 novos missionários para pregar o Evangelho a todos os povos indígenas no Brasil”, conclama no microfone Ronaldo Lidório, um dos principais líderes desse movimento. Traduzindo: o objetivo é convencer os índios, assim como todas as pessoas do mundo, a se tornarem crentes – salvar as almas condenadas pelo pecado original.

Henrique terena é alto, tem cabelos longos e usa um charmoso cocar de penas azuis de arara. Falando com desenvoltura e retórica apurada, ele anda sempre próximo a Eli Tikuna, líder indígena que vem da margem do rio Solimões, já quase na fronteira com a Colômbia. Juntos, aguardam o chamado para pregar no salão lotado de brancos, curiosos para ouvir os tais “índios crentes”.

Grandes astros da conferência, os índios pastores formam o que os missionários evangélicos consideram ser a “terceira onda evangelizadora”. Primeiro, eram os estrangeiros que aportaram no Brasil com a Bíblia debaixo do braço (no século 19 e no pós-guerra); a segunda onda ocorreu por meio dos missionários brasileiros, com a institucionalização das missões estrangeiras no Brasil, ao longo da segunda metade do século passado; e hoje os próprios índios agem como missionários.

As almas indígenas são o objeto do alcance proselitista de um determinado grupo de evangélicos, principalmente os de denominação batista (conhecidos como “históricos”). O sistema de evangelização ocorre segundo regras capitalistas, com agências, igrejas e crentes financiadores. Por trás de tudo, há diversos interesses que se aliam com a conveniência exigida para a alma condenada ser alcançada – garimpeiros no Amapá, madeireiros e fazendeiros no Pará, seringueiros no Acre, o exército no Amazonas. Nessas alianças, domesticar os selvagens para servirem de mão de obra é o objetivo dos laicos. Já o alcance e a salvação das almas é a verdadeira missão religiosa.

Em 1991, a Fundação Nacional do Índio determinou a expulsão de todas as missões das áreas indígenas e rompeu os contratos que tinha com os missionários de prestação de saúde e educação para os índios. Por parte do governo, não havia o conhecimento exato do número de aldeias com presença missionária. Mas o então presidente da Funai, o sertanista Sidney Possuelo, conhecia de perto a atuação da New Tribes Mission (hoje, Missão Novas Tribos do Brasil) junto do povo zo’é, cujo primeiro contato ocorreu em 1986. Na época, a expedição contava com a presença de Edward Luz, que atualmente é o presidente da Novas Tribos do Brasil. Antropólogos afirmaram então que cerca de 30% da população índia pereceu devido a doenças levadas pelos missionários. Possuelo, que trabalhou junto aos zo’é, determinou a retirada dos missionários assim que assumiu a Funai. Na visão de Luz, que até hoje tenta retomar contato com os zo’é, a Funai “persegue” os missionários.

“Nós, como instituição, só temos a agradecer a essa perseguição. Porque quanto mais a perseguição vem, mais nós crescemos”, afirma Luz. “O Cristianismo sempre foi pautado por isso. O sangue dos mártires regava a semente daqueles que haviam de nascer. E no governo brasileiro isso foi a mesma coisa.”

Conheci Edward Luz no V Congresso Brasileiro de Missões, em 2008, em Águas de Lindoia (SP). Naquele momento, o drama da tribo dos índios suruwahá estava à tona: a Funai havia expulsado dali o grupo “Jovens com uma Missão” (Youth with a Mission, no original). Os missionários acusavam os índios de serem violentos assassinos de crianças e praticarem o infanticídio – era preciso a evangelização para salvá-los. A Funai culpa os missionários por uma leva de suicídios que chegou a atingir 10% da população local. Marcia Suzuki foi a missionária que se colocou como porta-voz do drama. “No Parque do Xingu também praticam o infanticídio, e dizem que não”, ela declarou na época. O tema do infanticídio foi levantado na mídia em torno de um filme de ficção, mas tratado como um “docudrama”, realizado pelo filho do fundador da Youth with a Mission, o cineasta David L. Cunningham. Em Hakani: A Survivor’s Story, índios suruwahá aparecem enterrando uma menina viva. O departamento da Funai que protege os suruwahá afirmou que os índios ficaram revoltados ao saber da história. Hakani, a tal criança índia, foi retirada da aldeia por Suzuki e hoje a acompanha em igrejas, na busca de recursos para a missão Atini. O drama de Hakani também serviu para divulgar um projeto de lei chamado Muwaji, que incriminaria funcionários públicos em caso de infanticídio e que legitimaria a presença de evangélicos em aldeias.

A bancada evangélica no Congresso Nacional, formada por cerca de 50 deputados, pouco se mobilizou. A maioria, pentecostal, é distante das denominações históricas, como os batistas. “Há evangélicos contra a evangelização dos índios, como os ecumênicos”, afirma Geter Borges, assessor parlamentar presente no Congresso Brasileiro de Missões. As divergências internas praticamente impediriam, diz ele, que a bancada mostrasse uma união sobre projetos – “não votam juntos, e não têm o peso e a força, por exemplo, dos ruralistas”, diz. Sobre a evangelização, Borges contextualiza: “Esse grupo da AMTB é que tem essa proposta de evangelizar os índios, que é proselitista. É a visão que se tem do Espírito Santo. Eu sou batista, mas creio que podemos ser salvos sem o batismo”.

A estratégia de utilizar os próprios índios como missionários foi definida no VI Congresso de Missões. E, para facilitar a realização do trabalho, eles farão uso de um dogma retórico: “O Estado não pode impedir um índio de encontrar um outro índio”, explica Luz. O objetivo das agências atualmente é capitalizar a maior quantidade de indígenas possível para se tornarem pastores. Para provocar uma reação pública, decidiram que irão solicitar, através dos índios kanamari, o ingresso na terra indígena Vale do Javari, onde está localizada a maior população de índios isolados remanescente do mundo. Caso a Funai negue a presença missionária, a estratégia prometida será acionar o Poder Judiciário contra o governo. “Metade dos povos indígenas não são aldeados. Um grande número frequenta as universidades. E a maioria fala: vou voltar para o meu povo e vou levar o evangelho pra eles. E contra essa força não há resistência”, conclama Luz.

O presidente da Novas Tribos insiste que o impedimento da entrada dos missionários nas aldeias tem cunho “ideológico”. “A Constituição não dá amparo para esse tipo de perseguição”, afirma Luz. “Nós temos o direito de pregar o evangelho para todo mundo. E toda pessoa tem o direito a aderir ou não. Vamos levar essa discussão às raias do Supremo.” Argumento-chave nesse debate é o que Luz chama de “direito da comunidade indígena de decidir o seu presente e seu futuro” – ou seja, de escolher sua religião. É o mesmo ponto levantado por alguns raros antropólogos que não se opõem aos missionários. “Os índios podem escolher seu destino”, declarou uma antropóloga evangélica que não quis ser identificada. “Agora, nem sempre os missionários são honestos nas opções que oferecem.”

“A motivação deles é ideológica: eles querem expandir a ideologia religiosa deles para todos os seres humanos do planeta”, rebate Márcio Meira, presidente da Funai, que alega que a Constituição Federal protege a liberdade de crença, assegurando a proteção aos locais de culto. Nesse caso, a Funai tem poder de vetar a entrada nas áreas habitadas por índios “isolados”, assim como dos povos de pouco contato: “Cabe ao Estado laico exercer o poder de proteção e impedir qualquer contato de missionários com índios isolados”.

“Alguns povos, como os zo’é, os yanomami, os suruwahá, possuem contato, mas não possuem elementos de conhecimento das outras religiões para tomar uma decisão. Temos que garantir seus espaços de liturgia”, prossegue Meira, afirmando ainda que a Fundação não intervém nos casos de povos com contato antigo com a sociedade envolvente. “A Funai tem a obrigação legal de respeitar a vontade dos índios de permanecerem isolados”, diz.

“Em 2 mil anos, a bíblia foi traduzida apenas para 500 línguas”, prega o pastor Ronaldo Lidório no grande salão do VI Congresso Brasileiro de Missões, com certo tom de indignação frente às ovelhas de seu rebanho. É a hora de provocar “um tsunami espiritual”, conforme reforça o pastor indígena Henrique Terena no mesmo salão principal. Todos parecem chocados com mais um dado “oficial” divulgado pela AMTB: “147 povos indígenas no Brasil não conhecem o Evangelho”.

O encontro das sociedades europeias com os índios na América aflorou entre os crentes a missão determinada pelo “ide” de Marcos. Pelo lado católico, a catequização foi praticada inicialmente na aliança da Companhia de Jesus, pelos jesuítas, com os estados colonizadores espanhol e português (rompida no século 18). As tentativas de conquista de holandeses e franceses foram acompanhadas de religiosos protestantes. Enquanto a famosa “Primeira Missa” católica foi celebrada em 26 de abril de 1500 pelo frade Henrique de Coimbra, o primeiro culto evangélico em terras brasileiras ocorreu mais de 50 anos depois, em 10 de março de 1557, no Rio de Janeiro, pelos huguenotes franceses. Poucos anos depois, Jacques Balleur foi enforcado por pregar a religião da Reforma junto aos índios tamoios.

Hoje, os católicos atendem sob a organização do Conselho Indigenista Missionário (Cimi), que prega, de forma oficial, o respeito às religiões indígenas. De acordo com essa leitura, o papel do Espírito Santo salvaria as almas, independentemente do batismo. “É a tese de São Tomás de Aquino. Mas alguns ainda praticam o proselitismo”, assume Paulo Suess, um dos principais teólogos do Cimi. “Nunca oficialmente. Nunca vão dizer isso abertamente em uma assembléia do Cimi. Mas na aldeia eles podem agir assim.” A última missão jesuíta em atividade no Brasil foi a Utiariti, no Mato Grosso, completamente destruída pelos índios nos anos 70. Alguns líderes indígenas, jovens na época, guardam más lembranças das atuações dos padres. “Forçavam o casamento interétnico”, recorda o índio pareci Daniel Cabixi. “A gente sofria muito.”

Com as revoluções sociais do pós-guerra, sobretudo por causa do Concílio Vaticano II, e a teologia da libertação que se desenvolveu em seguida, os católicos na América passaram a optar pelo princípio da “encarnação”, segundo manifesto escrito em Goiânia, em 1975: “Seguindo os passos de Cristo, optar seriamente, como pessoas e como igreja, por uma encarnação realista e comprometida com a vida dos povos indígenas, convivendo com eles, investigando, descobrindo e valorizando, adotando sua cultura e assumindo sua causa, com todas as consequências; superando as formas de etnocentrismo e colonialismo até o ponto de ser aceito como um deles”.

Em 1912, ocorreu a evangelização dos índios terenas, no atual Mato Grosso do Sul. Esse é o marco, entre os evangélicos, da primeira evangelização indígena no Brasil. E foi também entre os terenas que foi “plantada” a primeira igreja. Em julho de 2012, o Conselho Nacional dos Pastores e Líderes Indígenas (Conplei) prepara a comemoração do centenário desse primeiro batismo. “Vai ser um grande encontro”, promete o pastor Henrique Terena, que diz contar com a presença de indígenas evangélicos do Paraguai e da Bolívia. “Vamos receber cinco mil indígenas. E vamos criar o Conselho Mundial dos Pastores e Líderes Indígenas.” As inscrições para o evento custam de R$ 80 (índios) a R$ 200 (não índios).

Nesse verdadeiro mercado de almas que é o Congresso Brasileiro de Missões, até é possível “adotar” um povo. Em um dos estandes, a missionária explica: “Você assume esse povo, e deve orar por eles”. Além da oração, é sugerido também que sejam doados recursos para financiar o trabalho missionário. Valores não são mencionados, mas estima-se ser necessário cinco igrejas para sustentar o trabalho em um único povo. No palco, Eli Tikuna conta sobre o dia de glória que teve ao visitar uma igreja batista na Grande São Paulo: “Consegui R$ 10 mil em doações. Glória ao Pai!”

Na quinta edição do Congresso, em 2008, um empresário de São José dos Campos doou um avião modelo Caravan para a missão Asas do Socorro, que presta serviços de transporte aéreo para as agências missionárias e, segundo o comandante Rocindes Correa, conta já com 11 aeronaves. “Pregamos o evangelho integral, que cuida da alma, mas também da vida da comunidade”, diz Correa. Nesse intuito, a Asas do Socorro oferece também o transporte de médicos e dentistas evangélicos.

Segundo dados divulgados pela própria AMTB, a edição 2011 do Congresso Brasileiro de Missões custou por volta de US$ 40 mil e recebeu aproximadamente 500 pessoas (291 responderam a um questionário), sendo 40% batistas e mais da metade oriunda da região Sudeste. Um terço era de pastores, lideranças religiosas, e 98% dos presentes consideraram a programação “boa ou excelente”. A próxima edição, aliás, já tem data marcada: acontece em 2014.

E se jesus realmente retornar e for parar no meio dos índios? Dizem os crentes que a comunidade deverá estar preparada para recebê-lo – diferentemente do que aconteceu da primeira vez, quando ele nasceu em berço judaico durante a dominação romana e foi morto ainda jovem. Essa é a explicação sugerida pelo antropólogo Darcy Ribeiro, que morreu em 1997, sobre o principal motivo que leva os missionários a “gastarem sua vida” em nome da evangelização dos índios na Amazônia.

Foi Ribeiro quem trouxe os missionários do Summer Institut of Linguistics (SIL) para o Brasil, na década de 50. Preocupado com o desaparecimento das línguas indígenas, o antropólogo imaginaria que, ao custo da tradução da Bíblia, ao menos as línguas seriam documentadas, em caso de desaparecimento de um povo. Escreveu ele no livro Confissões: “Serviço maior meu foi mandar uma linguista do Instituto Linguístico de Verão, com doutorado, conviver com eles e dedicar-se por quase um ano ao estudo do idioma ofaié. Assim, ao menos sua língua se salvou pelo registro escrito e sonoro para futuros estudiosos das falas humanas”.

Quando se dedicou a salvar as línguas indígenas, Ribeiro desconhecia as ligações do SIL com a poderosa família norte-americana Rockfeller, que procurava novas jazidas de petróleo, e com a direita norte-americana e agências de informações dos Estados Unidos, fatos mostrados no livroThy Will Be Done, de Gerard Coilby e Charlotte Dennet. No Brasil, onde persiste o fantasma da “internacionalização da Amazônia”, essas ligações suspeitas fizeram crescer os temores de ações escusas dos missionários.

Se externamente há fantasmas da internacionalização, nas aldeias, os índios reclamam da interferência em suas culturas. Os missionários Manfred e Barbara Kern, da New Tribes, divulgaram que um dos líderes indígenas da tribo uru-eu-wau-wau, de Rondônia, teria cometido adultério. “Pelo que entendemos, ele é reincidente e já foi repreendido pelos outros líderes”, escreveram eles, em uma carta pública divulgada em 28 de junho. “Reze para o Senhor fazer um grande trabalho de restauração na sua vida e da sua esposa.” Os uru-eu formam um povo tupi e não são tradicionalmente monogâmicos, mas, de acordo com os missionários, estão “aprendendo a ser”.

A abordagem em relação ao adultério foi justamente o que chamou a atenção do líder indígena Davi Kopenawa Yanomami sobre a conduta suspeita de missionários. Ele afirma ter conhecido o Evangelho através da ação de membros da Novas Tribos, que estiveram presentes na aldeia yanomami Toototobi, e fez sua opção: “O missionário não é como garimpeiro. É outro político. Eles não invadiam a terra, mas a nossa cultura, a nossa tradição, o nosso conhecimento. Eles são outro pensamento para tirar o nosso conhecimento e depois colocar o conhecimento deles, a sabedoria deles, a religião deles. Isso é diferente. Eu, Davi, já fui crente. Junto com eles. Mas depois queria conhecer Jesus Cristo. E não deu certo. Um missionário não índio namorou uma yanomami. Daí não deu certo. Descobri que não é verdade. Aí eu não acreditei mais. São crentes falsos. E não acreditei mais”.

De fato, não é incomum as alianças estratégicas para a evangelização assumirem feições mais mundanas, muitas vezes contrárias aos direitos indígenas. Em um caso emblemático ocorrido em 1986, a Novas Tribos teria se unido a seringueiros que escravizavam índios no Acre, conforme relata o cacique yawanawa Biraci “Bira” Brasil.

Ainda jovem, Bira foi morar em Rio Branco (AC), onde percebeu que “nosso povo estava não apenas perdendo a língua, mas perdendo o nosso espírito. Nossa conexão espiritual com nós mesmos, com a natureza, com o nosso mundo, com os nossos ancestrais”. Decidiu, então, unir os jovens e expulsar os missionários, instalados na tribo por três décadas. “Convenceram todo mundo a ser crente. Botaram uma ameaça no nosso coração, dizendo que sem essa religião todo mundo iria para o inferno, que nós não teríamos salvação, não seríamos capaz de ser um povo feliz. Que nós vivíamos com o demônio. Que nossos rituais e nossas crenças eram coisas do demônio.”

“Eram racistas”, o cacique prossegue. “Não gostavam da gente, pareciam que tinham nojo de índio. Não deixavam índio andar no mesmo barco com eles. Não deixavam comer junto. Nos tratavam mal. Sem respeito. Principalmente os americanos. Eram muito arrogantes. A gente sofria muito. A gente tinha vergonha de ser a gente. A missão estava dizendo que a nossa cultura era coisa do demônio. Nossa ayahuasca, nossas cerimônias. Nós éramos proibidos, através da intimidação, de realizar nossos rituais. Do lado da missão estavam os seringalistas, seringueiros. Se aliavam com todo mundo. E a igreja fazia a gente aceitar ser dominado. Além da evangelização, dessa descaracterização cultural do nosso povo, ainda mantinham a presença dos não indígenas dentro da terra. Faziam a gente aceitar nossa condição de escravo.”

A expulsão dos missionários e dos seringueiros ocorreu em uma noite de 1986. Em carta publicada em 28 de fevereiro desse ano, os missionários Stephen e Corine relatam que na época os índios queriam “roubar seus pertences e queimar suas casas”. A Polícia Federal foi convocada, e Bira foi perseguido e acusado de ter se engajado com uma “organização de esquerda”.

Atualmente, Bira é referência espiritual na aldeia e há uma década organiza um dos maiores festivais indígenas do Brasil, o Yawa, quando recebe povos de outras etnias e visitantes ocidentais para celebrar a cultura e a espiritualidade yawanawa, com muito rapé e ayahuasca. Ele também viaja pelo mundo realizando rituais xamânicos tradicionais de seu povo. Aprendeu com os pajés Yawa e Tatá, que nunca deixaram de praticar os ritos, ainda que escondidos, durante a dominação da Missão Novas Tribos.

No que depender das agências evangelizadoras, porém, a luta está apenas começando. “A perseguição nos dá força. O sangue dos mártires regava as sementes daqueles que haviam de nascer”, reforça o missionário Edward Luz, prometendo jamais desistir de evangelizar o povo zo’é, de onde foi expulso pela Funai. “Nós vamos voltar para os zo’é. Não sei como. Mas vamos voltar. Nosso Deus é soberano. O homem pode espernear, mas no final vai ter um encontro com Deus. E, se não estiver preparado, vai sofrer.”

Luz prevê que, se o Estado tentar impedir a pregação da Bíblia nas aldeias, o fato poderia unir todas as denominações evangélicas, que são rivais entre si. “Se [o governo] proíbe pregar o evangelho, está proibindo a liberdade da adoração; proíbe o autor do evangelho, o senhor Jesus; e proibiu aBíblia, proibiu o Deus criador”, diz. E desafia: “E nós partimos para um confronto”

Entrevista sobre empreendedorismo e pacificação (Cirandas.net)

11 de Março de 2013, por Celso Alexandre Souza de Alvear

No início de março a jornalista Bruna Cerdeira do portal das UPPs me pediu uma entrevista sobre empreendedorismo e pacificação, devido a nosso projeto RioEcoSol. Quando liguei para saber se ela tinha recebido minha resposta, ela disse que não teve como usá-la, pois demorei muito (acho que demorei uns 3 dias pra responder) e que já tinha feito a matéria. Mas acho que minha resposta não agradou muito ela não… Pedi para ela me informar quando entrasse no ar, porém até hoje não tive resposta e não vi nada no site da upps. Assim, estou publicando minha resposta. Acho importante desmistificar um pouco essa visão acrítica que depois da pacificação aumentou o empreendedorismo nas favelas. Abaixo minhas respostas:

Repórter: Fui informada que o senhor foi o responsável por uma pesquisa sobre empreendedorismo em 4 comunidades pacificadas: Cidade de Deus, Complexo do Alemão, Manguinhos e Santa Marta.

Na verdade, não fui responsável por uma pesquisa sobre empreendedorismo em 4 comunidades pacificadas, mas sim pelo livro  resultante da pesquisa sobre economia solidária e economia popular nas 4 favelas (conhecida como RioEcoSol). Diferentemente da maior parte das abordagem de empreendedorismo, que prezam pela competição e pela individualidade dos empreendimentos (sob uma ótica capitalista de quanto mais lucro melhor), a economia solidária preza por uma relação de trabalho sem chefes e empregados (numa cooperativa todos os trabalhadores são donos do empreendimento) e numa lógica de cooperação e solidariedade entre os empreendimentos e entre esses e seu território.

De qualquer jeito, espero que possa te ajudar com sua pesquisa. Seguem minhas respostas.

1) Como a pacificação está ajudando a transformar as comunidades em ambientes favoráveis ao empreendedorismo e a fomentar o consumo dos produtos dos negócios locais pelos moradores?

O programa de pacificação ajudou na vida dos moradores e dos empreendimentos dessas favelas com a possibilidade de um transito mais livre no território e com uma diminuição de uma estigmatização negativa dessas favelas e dos empreendimentos localizados nelas (principalmente aqueles que vendem para pessoas de fora de suas favelas). Porém, com a repressão da polícia a diversas atividades culturais na favela (como no caso dos bailes funks), muitos empreendimentos relatam uma grande diminuição de suas vendas, pois essas atividades culturais geravam uma dinâmica econômica endógena. Outro problema é que muitos empreendimentos relatam que, com o programa de pacificação, muitos empreendimentos familiares vêm sofrendo coerção para se formalizarem (alguns empreendimentos populares, familiares, ou coletivos não tem capacidade para se formalizarem no momento).

Por fim, com o livre transito nesses territórios, a tendência é que os grandes empresários entrem nesses territórios acabando com todo o comércio local (assim como os de Barra/Jacarepaguá tem feito na Cidade de Deus, de botafogo e da zona sul estão fazendo no Santa Marta etc.). Existem vários exemplos de rádios comunitárias que foram fechadas depois da pacificação e de tvs comunitárias que fecharam pois as teves a cabo não tiveram interessem em colocar na grade. No alemão, também temos o exemplo de um empreendedor que comercializava internet (de forma regular e legal) antes da pacificação, mas que agora, com a entrada de velox, tem dificuldades para competir com essas grandes empresas. A pergunta seria então quais estratégias podem evitar a morte desses empreendimentos locais? Consideramos que só com políticas públicas e investimento do Estado pode-se evitar isso (e não com programas como pretendem casar a demanda desses territórios com o que o mercado pode ofertar). Uma política que deveria ser mais estimulado são os bancos comunitários e as moedas sociais. Isso porque, com a moeda social, por exemplo, você favorece a que se compre no comércio local, por conta do desconto.

2) Qual faixa etária (jovens, adultos) está se tornando a principal característica do empreendedorismo nas comunidades?

Todos os dados de nossa pesquisa são estáticos, então não podemos afirmar que é algo de agora ou uma tendência. Os dados detalhados estão no arquivo em anexo.

3) Que tipo de empreendimento mais cresce nessas 4 comunidades pacificadas e qual o perfil do empreendedor? (se tiver um dado mais geral, que englobe outras comunidades pacificadas)

Todos os dados de nossa pesquisa são estáticos, então não podemos afirmar que é algo de agora ou uma tendência. Os dados detalhados estão no arquivo em anexo.

4) Que cursos e/ou oficinas podem contribuir para a formação empresarial dos moradores com vocação para abrir seus próprios negócios?

Além de formações técnicas que possibilitem melhorar seus produtos e gerirem melhor seus empreendimentos, consideramos fundamental formações que desenvolvam a consciência crítica desses empreendedores, sob uma ótica de economia solidária, que permitam refletir seu empreendimento em relação a seu território. Sobre formação empresarial, não fizemos nenhuma pesquisa.

Indígenas ameaçam guerra para barrar hidrelétricas no rio Tapajós (Valor Econômico)

JC e-mail 4671, de 25 de Fevereiro de 2013.

Um grupo de líderes de aldeias localizadas no Pará e no norte do Mato Grosso esteve em Brasília para protestar contra ações de empresas na região

Não houve acordo. O governo teve uma pequena amostra, na semana passada, da resistência que enfrentará para levar adiante seu projeto de construção de hidrelétricas ao longo do rio Tapajós, uma região isolada da Amazônia onde vivem hoje cerca de 8 mil índios da etnia munduruku. Um grupo de líderes de aldeias localizadas no Pará e no norte do Mato Grosso, Estados que são cortados pelo rio, esteve em Brasília para protestar contra ações de empresas na região, que realizam levantamento de informações para preparar o licenciamento ambiental das usinas.

Os índios tiveram uma reunião com o ministro de Minas e Energia (MME), Edison Lobão. Na mesa, os projetos da hidrelétricas de São Luiz do Tapajós e de Jatobá, dois dos maiores projetos de geração previstos pelo governo. Lobão foi firme. Disse aos índios que o governo não vai abrir mãos das duas usinas e que eles precisam entender isso. Valter Cardeal, diretor da Eletrobras que também participou da discussão, tentou convencer os índios de que o negócio é viável e de que eles serão devidamente compensados pelos impactos. Os índios deixaram a sala.

Para o cacique Arnaldo Koba Munduruku, que lidera todos os povos indígenas da região do Tapajós, o resultado do encontro foi negativo. “Nosso povo não quer indenização, nem quer o dinheiro de usina. Nosso povo quer o rio como ele é”, disse Koba ao Valor. “Não vamos permitir que usinas ou até mesmo que estudos sejam feitos. Vamos unir nossa gente e vamos para o enfrentamento. O Tapajós não vai sofrer como sofre hoje o rio Xingu”, afirmou o líder indígena, referindo-se às complicações indígenas que envolvem o licenciamento e a construção da hidrelétrica de Belo Monte, em Altamira (PA).

Numa carta que foi entregue nas mãos do secretário-geral da Presidência, ministro Gilberto Carvalho, os índios pediram “que o governo brasileiro respeite a decisão do povo munduruku e desista de construir essas hidrelétricas”. No mesmo documento, os índios cobram agilidade na investigação da morte de Adenilson Kirixi Munduruku, que foi assassinado com três tiros em novembro do ano passado, na região do Teles Pires, rio localizado no norte do Mato Grosso e que forma o Tapajós, em sua confluência com o rio Juruena.

Os índios se negaram a assinar um documento apresentado pela Presidência, que previa compromissos a serem assumidos pelo governo, por entenderem que se tratava de uma consulta prévia já atrelada ao licenciamento das usinas do Tapajós. “Viemos até aqui para cobrar a punição pelo assassinato de nosso irmão, mas vimos que a intenção do governo era outra. Ele queria mesmo era tratar das usinas, mas não permitimos isso”, disse o líder indígena Waldelirio Manhuary Munduruku. “Não vamos nos ajoelhar. Não haverá usinas, nem estudos de usinas. Iremos até o fim nessa guerra.”

No balanço do Programa de Aceleração do Crescimento (PAC) divulgado na semana passada, o cronograma de São Luiz do Tapajós e de Jatobá estabelece o mês de setembro para conclusão dos estudos ambientais das usinas. O levantamento de informações na região começou a ser feito pela Eletrobras há pelo menos um ano e meio. Analistas ambientais e técnicos da estatal têm enfrentado resistências na região para colher informações dos moradores.

O grupo de empresas que o governo reuniu em agosto do ano passado para participar da elaboração dos estudos dá uma ideia do interesse energético que a União tem no Tapajós. Com a Eletrobras estão Cemig Geração e Transmissão, Copel Geração e Transmissão, GDF Suez Energy Latin America Participações, Endesa do Brasil e Neoenergia Investimentos.

Com as usinas de São Luiz e Jatobá, o governo quer adicionar 8.471 megawatts de potência à sua matriz energética. O custo ambiental disso seria a inundação de 1.368 quilômetros quadrados de floresta virgem, duas vezes e meia a inundação que será causada pela hidrelétrica de Belo Monte. O governo diz que é pouco e que, se forem implementadas todas as usinas previstas para a Amazônia, menos de 1% da floresta ficaria embaixo d”água.

(André Borges – Valor Econômico)

The Destruction of Conscience in the National Academy of Sciences (Counter Punch)

FEBRUARY 26, 2013

An Interview With Marshall Sahlins

by DAVID H. PRICE

Last Friday, esteemed University of Chicago anthropologist Marshall Sahlins formally resigned from the National Academy of Sciences (NAS), the United States’ most prestigious scientific society.

Sahlins states that he resigned because of his “objections to the election of [Napoleon] Chagnon, and to the military research projects of the Academy.” Sahlins was elected to the National Academy of Sciences in 1991.  He issued the below statement explaining his resignation:

“By the evidence of his own writings as well as the testimony of others, including Amazonian peoples and professional scholars of the region, Chagnon has done serious harm to the indigenous communities among whom he did research.  At the same time, his “scientific” claims about human evolution and the genetic selection for male violence–as in the notorious study he published in 1988 in Science–have proven to be shallow and baseless, much to the discredit of the anthropological discipline. At best, his election to the NAS was a large moral and intellectual blunder on the part of members of the Academy. So much so that my own participation in the Academy has become an embarrassment.

Nor do I wish to be a party to the aid, comfort, and support the NAS is giving to social science research on improving the combat performance of the US military, given the toll that military has taken on the blood, treasure, and happiness of American people, and the suffering it has imposed on other peoples in the unnecessary wars of this century.  I believe that the NAS, if it involves itself at all in related research, should be studying how to promote peace, not how to make war.”

Napoleon Chagnon rose to fame after his fieldwork among the Yanomami (also known as Yanomamo) in the rainforests of northeastern South America’s Orinoco Basin in the 1960s and 70s.  He wrote a bestselling ethnography used in introductory anthropology classes around the world, describing the Yanomami as “the fierce people” because of the high levels of intra- and inter-group warfare observed during his fieldwork, warfare that he would describe as innate and as representing humankind in some sort of imagined natural state.

Chagnon, is currently basking in the limelight of a national book tour, pitching a memoir (Nobel Savages) in which he castes the bulk of American anthropologists as soft-skulled anti-science postmodern cretins embroiled in a war against science.

The truth is that outside of the distortion field of the New York Times and a few other media vortexesthere is no “science war” raging in anthropology.  Instead the widespread rejection of Chagnon’s work among many anthropologists has everything to do with the low quality of his research.  On his blog, Anthropomics, anthropologist Jon Marks recently described Chagnon as an “incompetent anthropologist,” adding:

“Let me be clear about my use of the word “incompetent”.  His methods for collecting, analyzing and interpreting his data are outside the range of acceptable anthropological practices.  Yes, he saw the Yanomamo doing nasty things.  But when he concluded from his observations that the Yanomamo are innately and primordially “fierce”  he lost his anthropological credibility, because he had not demonstrated any such thing.   He has a right to his views, as creationists and racists have a right to theirs, but the evidence does not support the conclusion, which makes it scientifically incompetent.”

The widely shared rejection of Chagnon’s interpretations among anthropologists comes from the shoddy quality of his work and the sociobiological nature of his analysis, not with an opposition to science.

Among Chagnon’s most dogged critics was my dissertation chair, anthropologist Marvin Harris, himself an arch positivist and a staunch advocate of the scientific method, yet Harris rejected Chagnon and his sociobiological findings in fierce academic debates that lasted for decades, not because Harris was anti-science, but because Chagnon was a bad scientist (I should note that Harris and Sahlins also famously feuded over fundamental theoretical differences; yet both shared common ground objecting to the militarization of the discipline, and rejecting Chagnon’s sociobiological work).

I suppose if there really were battles within anthropology between imagined camps embracing and rejecting science, I would be about as firmly in the camp of science as anyone; but if such divisions actually existed, I would be no closer to accepting the validity and reliability (the hallmarks of good science) of Chagnon’s findings than those imagined to reject the foundations of science.

In 2000, there was of course a huge painful crisis within the American Anthropological Association following the publication of Patrick Tierney’s book Darkness in El Dorado, in which numerous accusations of exploitation (and worse) were leveled against Chagnon and other anthropologists working with the Yanomami (see Barbara Rose Johnston’s essay on the José Padilha’s film, Secrets of the Tribe). Without detailing all the twists and turns involved in establishing  the wreckage of Chagnon and the paucity of his claims, suffice it to say that the choice of offering one of the select seats in the National Academy of Sciences’ Section 51 to Dr. Chagnon is an affront to a broad range of anthropologists, be they self-identified as scientists or not.

Marshall Sahlins’ resignation is an heroic stand against the subversion of science to those claiming an innate nature of human violence, and a stand opposing the increasing militarization of science.  While Sahlins’ credentials as an activist opposing the militarization of knowledge are well established—he is widely recognized as the creator of the “teach-in,” organizing the February 1965 University of Michigan teach-in—it still must have been difficult for him to resign this prestigious position.

In late 1965 Sahlins traveled to Vietnam to learn firsthand about the war and the Americans fighting it, work that resulted in his seminal essay “The Destruction of Conscience in Vietnam.”   He became one of the clearest and most forceful anthropological voices speaking out against efforts (in the 1960s and 70s, and in again in post-9/11 America) to militarize anthropology.

In 2009 I was part of a conference at the University of Chicago critically examining renewed efforts by U.S. military and intelligence agencies to use anthropological data for counterinsurgency projects.  Sahlins’ paper at the conference argued that, “in Vietnam, the famous anti-insurgency strategy was search and destroy; here it is research and destroy.  One might think it good news that the military’s appropriation of anthropological theory is incoherent, simplistic and outmoded – not to mention tedious – even as its ethnographic protocols for learning the local society and culture amount to unworkable fantasies. ”

Yesterday, Sahlins sent me an email that had been circulated to NAS Section 51 (Anthropology) members, announcing two new “consensus projects” under sponsorship of the Army Research Institute.  The first project examined “The Context of Military Environments: Social and Organizational Factors,”  the second, “Measuring Human Capabilities: Performance Potential of Individuals and Collectives.”   Reading the announcement of these projects forwarded by Sahlins, it is apparent that the military wants the help of social scientists who can streamline military operations, using social science and social engineering to enable interchangeable units of people working on military projects to smoothly interface.  This seems to be increasingly becoming the role Americans see for anthropologists and other social scientists: that of military facilitator.

Below is the exchange, I had with Sahlins yesterday discussing his resignation, Chagnon’s election to the National Academy of Sciences, and the Academy’s links to military projects.

Price:  How has Chagnon so successfully turned numerous attacks on his ethically troubling research and scientifically questionable methods and findings into what is widely seen as an attack on science itself?

Sahlins: There has been no address of the issues on Chagnon’s part, notably of the criticism of his supposed empirical results, as in the 1988 Science article, and the numerous criticisms from Amazonian anthropologists of his shallow ethnography and villainously distorted portrayal of Yanomami.  These Cro-Chagnon scientists simply refuse to discuss the facts of the ethnographic case.  Instead they issue ad hominem attacks–before it was against the Marxists, now it is the ‘fuzzy-headed humanists.’ Meanwhile they try to make it an ideological anti-science persecution–again ironically as a diversion from discussing the empirical findings.  Meanwhile the serious harm, bodily and emotionally, inflicted on the Yanomami, plus the reckless instigation of war by his field methods, are completely ignored in the name of science. Research and destroy, as I called the method. A total moral copout.

Price: Most of the publicity surrounding your resignation from the National Academy of Sciences focuses either exclusively on Napoleon Chagnon’s election to the Association, or on the supposed “science wars” in anthropology, while little media attention has focused on your statements opposing the NAS’s increasing links to military projects.   What were the reactions within NAS Section 51 to the October 2012 call to members of the Academy to conduct research aimed at improving the military’s mission effectiveness?

Sahlins: The National Association of Science would not itself do the war research. It would rather enlist recruits from its sections–as in the section 51 memos–and probably thus participate in the vetting of reports before publication.  The National Research Council organizes the actual research, obviously in collaboration with the NAS. Here is another tentacle of the militarization of anthropology and other social sciences, of which the Human Terrain Systems is a familiar example. This one as insidious as it is perfidious.

Price: Was there any internal dialogue between members of NAS Section 51 when these calls for these new Army Research Institute funded projects were issued?

Sahlins: I was not privy to any correspondence, whether to the Section officers or between the fellows, if there was any–which I don’t know.

Price: What, if any reaction have you had from other NAS members?

Sahlins: Virtually none. One said I was always opposed to sociobiology

Price: To combine themes embedded in Chagnon’s claims of human nature, and the National Academy of Sciences supporting to social science for American military projects; can you comment on the role of science and scientific societies in a culture as centrally dominated by military culture as ours?

Sahlins: There is a paragraph or two in my pamphlet on The Western Illusion of Human Nature, of which I have no copy on hand, which cites Rumsfeld to the effect (paraphrasing Full Metal Jacket) that inside every Middle eastern Muslim there’s an American ready to come out, a self-interested freedom loving American, and we just have to force it out or force out the demons who are perpetrating other ideas [see page 42 of Sahlins; The Western Illusions of Human Nature].  Isn’t American global policy, especially neo-con policy, based on the confusion of capitalist greed and human nature? Just got to liberate them from their mistaken, externally imposed ideologies. For the alternative see the above mentioned pamphlet on the one true universal, kinship, and the little book I published last month: What Kinship Is–And Is Not.

Price: You mention a desire to shift funding streams from those offering military support, to those supporting peace.  Do you have any insight on how we can work to achieve this shift?

Sahlins:  I have not thought about it, probably because the idea that the National Academy of Sciences would so such a thing is essentially unthinkable today.

There is a rising international response supporting Sahlins’ stance.  Marshall shared with me a message he received form Professor, Eduardo Viveiros de Castro, of the National Museum, Rio de Janeiro, in which de Castro wrote,

“Chagnon’s writings on the Yanomami of Amazonia have contributed powerfully to reinforce the worst prejudices against this indigenous people, who certainly do not need the kind of stereotyping pseudo-scientific anthropology Chagnon has chosen to pursue at their cost. The Yanomami are anything but the nasty, callous sociobiological robots Chagnon makes them look – projecting, in all likelihood, his perception of his own society (or personality) onto the Yanomami. They are an indigenous people who have managed, against all odds, to survive in their traditional ways in an Amazonia increasingly threatened by social and environmental destruction. Their culture is original, robust and inventive; their society is infinitely less “violent” than Brazilian or American societies.

Virtually all anthropologists who have worked with the Yanomami, many of them with far larger field experience with this people than Chagnon, find his research methods objectionable (to put it mildly) and his ethnographic characterizations fantastic. Chagnon’s election to the NAS does not do honor to American science nor to anthropology as a discipline, and it also bodes ill to the Yanomami. As far as I am concerned, I deem Chagnon an enemy of Amazonian Indians. I can only thank Prof. Sahlins for his courageous and firm position in support of the Yanomami and of anthropological science.”

We are left to wonder what is to become of science, whether practiced with a capital (at times blind) “S” or a lower case inquisitive variety, when those questioning some its practices, misapplications and outcomes are increasingly marginalized, while those whose findings align with our broader cultural values of warfare are embraced.  The NAS’s rallying around such a divisive figure as Chagnon, demonizing his critics, claiming they are attacking not his practices and theories, but science itself damages the credibility of these scientists.  It is unfortunate that the National Academy of Sciences has backed itself into this corner.

The dynamics of such divisiveness are not unique to this small segment of the scientific community. In his 1966 essay on, “The Destruction of Conscience in Vietnam,” Sahlins argued that to continue wage the war, America had to destroy its own conscience—that facing those destroyed by our actions was too much for the nation to otherwise bare, writing: “Conscience must be destroyed: it has to end at the barrel of a gun, it cannot extend to the bullet.  So all peripheral rationales fade into the background.  It becomes a war of transcendent purpose, and in such a war all efforts on the side of Good are virtuous, and all deaths unfortunate necessary.  The end justifies the means.”

It is a tragic state of affairs when good people of conscience see the only acceptable act before them to be that of resignation; but sometimes the choice of disassociation is the strongest statement one can courageously make.

David Price a professor of anthropology at Saint Martin’s University in Lacey, Washington. He is the author of Weaponizing Anthropology: Social Science in Service of the Militarized State published by CounterPunch Books.

‘Noble Savages’: Chagnon’s new book triggers resignation and protests (Survival International)

http://www.survivalinternational.org/news/8997

26 February 2013

Davi Kopenawa, Yanomami spokesperson and shaman, has spoken out against Napoleon Chagnon's new book 'Noble Savages'.

Davi Kopenawa, Yanomami spokesperson and shaman, has spoken out against Napoleon Chagnon’s new book ‘Noble Savages’. © Fiona Watson/Survival

A new book by controversial American anthropologist Napoleon Chagnon has triggered a wave of protests among experts and Yanomami Indians:

  • Marshall Sahlins, ‘the world’s most respected anthropologist alive today’, has resigned from the US National Academy of Sciences in protest at Chagnon’s election to the Academy. Sahlins previously wrote a devastating critique of Chagnon’s work in the Washington Post.
  • Davi Kopenawa, a spokesman for Brazil’s Yanomami and President of the Yanomami association Hutukara, has spoken out about Chagnon’s work: ‘[Chagnon] said about us, ‘The Yanomami are savages!’ He teaches false things to young students. ‘Look, the Yanomami kill each other because of women.’ He keeps on saying this. But what do his leaders do? I believe that some years ago his leader waged a huge war – they killed thousands of children, they killed thousands of girls and boys. These big men killed almost everything. These are the fierce people, the true fierce people. They throw bombs, fire machine guns and finish off with the Earth. We don’t do this…’
  • A large group of anthropologists who have each worked with the Yanomami for many years have issued a statement challenging Chagnon’s assessment of the tribe as ‘fierce’ and ‘violent’. They describe the Yanomami as ‘generally peaceable.’
  • Survival International’s Director Stephen Corry has said, ’Chagnon’s work is frequently used by writers, such as Jared Diamond and Steven Pinker, who want to portray tribal peoples as ‘brutal savages’ – far more violent than ‘us’. But none of them acknowledge that his central findings about Yanomami ‘violence’ have long been discredited.’

Napoleon Chagnon’s autobiography ‘Noble Savages: My Life Among Two Dangerous Tribes – the Yanomamö and the Anthropologists’, has just been published. His 1968 book ‘Yanomamö: The Fierce People’ portrayed the Yanomami as ‘sly, aggressive and intimidating’, and claimed they ‘live in a state of chronic warfare’. It is still a standard work in undergraduate anthropology.

The Yanomami live in Brazil and Venezuela and are the largest relatively isolated tribe in South America. Their territory is protected by law, but illegal goldminers and ranchers continue to invade their land, destroying their forest and spreading diseases which in the 1980s killed one out of five Brazilian Yanomami.

Napoleon Chagnon's view that the Yanomami are 'sly, aggressive and intimidating' and that they 'live in a state of chronic warfare' has been widely discredited.Napoleon Chagnon’s view that the Yanomami are ‘sly, aggressive and intimidating’ and that they ‘live in a state of chronic warfare’ has been widely discredited. © Fiona Watson/Survival

Chagnon’s work has had far-reaching consequences for the rights of the Yanomami. In the late 1970s, Brazil’s military dictatorship, which was refusing to demarcate the Yanomami territory, was clearly influenced by the characterization of the Yanomami as hostile to each other and in the 1990s, the UK government refused funding for an education project with the Yanomami, saying that any project with the tribe should work on ‘reducing violence’.

Most recently, Chagnon’s work was cited in Jared Diamond’s highly controversial book ‘The World Until Yesterday’, in which he states that most tribal peoples, including the Yanomami, are ’trapped in cycles of violence and warfare’ and calls for the imposition of state control in order to bring them peace.

Survival International’s Director Stephen Corry said today, ‘The greatest tragedy in this story is that the real Yanomami have largely been written out of it, as the media have chosen to focus only on the salacious details of the debate that rages between anthropologists or on Chagnon’s disputed characterizations. In fact, Yanomamö: The Fierce People had disastrous repercussions both for the Yanomami and tribal peoples in general. There’s no doubt it’s been used against them and it has brought the 19th century myth of the ‘Brutal Savage’ back into mainstream thinking.’

Note to editors:
The full statements and additional information about the controversy can be found here.

Janet Chernela Interview with Davi Kopenawa (Affinities Blog)

Published 23 FEBRUARY 2013

Janet Chernela Interview with Davi Kopenawa
Recorded in Demini, Parima Mountain Range, Brazil
June 7, 2001

This interview was conducted June 7, 2001, in the Yanomami village of Demini, Parima Highlands, Brazil. I had known Davi, who is a recognized spokesperson on indigenous affairs, through prior meetings in New York and in Brazil. Arrangements for the interview were made through CCPY, a Brazilian non-governmental organization working on behalf of the Yanomami. In this I relied on long-term contacts with CCPY and their abilities to reach Davi by radio. (Individuals who provided assistance included Marcos Wesley de Oliveira, Bruce Albert, Gale Gomez, and Ari Weidenshadt.) Although Davi now lives in Demini, he is from Totoobi, where, as a child of 9 he was vaccinated by the Neel team. Davi’s comments about the period of the Neel collections must be understood as childhood recollections. In the measles epidemic of 1968 Davi lost his mother and siblings. He and his older sister are the only remaining members of his immediate family. Both recall having supplied blood to the researchers. As you will see in the interview, they are not concerned with the whereabouts of their own blood as they are the whereabouts of the blood of their deceased relatives.

I invited Davi to participate in what I call “reciprocal interviewing” — that is, he could interview me as I could interview him. You will see that he exercises his privilege toward the end of the interview. He understood that he was invited to speak to the American Anthropological Assocation in this interview, and refers to the Association in the course of his talk.

Davi and I spoke in Portuguese. The interview was recorded on audio and video-tape, and later translated from tapes into English. Paragraphs, titles, and bracketed comments were added. Since Portuguese is not first language to either of us, it is not clear that the word choices were ideal. In some cases I included Davi’s choice of Portuguese term.

The publication of Patrick Tierney’s Darkness in El Dorado is dated Jan. 17, 2002; an English-language copy was circulating on the internet about six months prior to its publication. At the time of the interview no Spanish or Portuguese version yet existed. A number of anthropologists had discussed the Tierney book with Davi before my arrival. Among these were Bruce Albert, Leda Martins, and an anthropologist whose name Davi could not recall. That anthropologist may have been Javier Carrera Rubio, a Venezuelan anthropologist who worked briefly for CCPY. I was accompanied in this interview by Ari Weidenshadt of CCPY, who participated actively in the discussion. For an understanding of events in 1968 the interview should be evaluated in light of documents that have been released since it was conducted. The words of Davi Yanomami, however, continue to have resonance beyond the past to include the enterprise of anthropological research, in general. The implications for globalization, cultural rights, and morality, are far-reaching.

“RECIPRICAL INTERVIEWS”

While walking to the shabono, a circular, thatch-roofed communal dwelling, I can overhear Ari speaking to Davi in the distance. Through my tape-recorder, I first hear Davi:

Davi: “hunt, tapir, monkey…bringing relatives together…call together people to kill the guy who killed own member…remembering, crying, everyone is angry..ai…Everyone goes there, they paint themselves. Prepare arrows. Get together alot of people — 50 Yanomami. They go to another shabono. Bring food, arrows, sleep in the forest. Next day get closer, and sleep close to the shabono. So they know..they will be avenged. At dawn, the enemy approaches. While people are sleeping inside, they wait…then when people go out to urinate — tchong! They strike with arrows. Arrows. Everyone wakes up, grabs his bow and arrows [and flees]. Everyone is running. They run out another exit, shootong as they go. There are three types of fighting. This is the third. THIS is war.

Janet: Does this actually happen?

Davi: Yes.

Janet: Did it happen in your lifetime?

Davi: Yes. I know about it because when I was small my uncle carried out alot of wars like this.

Janet: So it no longer occurs?

Davi: No, no one does this anymore. The warriors died. We are their children and we don’t make war. You can’t fight any more.

Janet: Is that group in Surucucú fighting?

Davi: Yes, they are fighting there. Because there they killed alot of people — they killed the headman of Surucucú so they [group from Surucucú] went over to Moxavi and killed the headman over there. The headman of Surucucú was a valiant warrior and a hard worker. He was an honest person. So his children avenged his death and killed the headman of Moxavi. Now it’s calm.

Janet: Where are the children today?

Davi: They are over there in Surucucú — Xerimú, Vinice, Hakoma, Tarimú Davi’s comments about the period of the Neel collections must be understood as the recollections of a child at the time., they are in Surucucú — enemies of Moxavi. Three groups are friends: Piris, Surucucú, Arawapu.

Janet: How many people live in Surucucú Davi’s comments about the period of the Neel collections must be understood as the recollections of a child at the time?

Davi: Thirty-something people, divided. The group that is making war is four hours walk away. They stopped fighting — they had to go back to work in their gardens. Food began to run out — there were no more bananas because they were afraid to leave the house to work in the gardens. They were afraid that people from Moxavi would attack. They are using fire arms over there at Surucucú [army post in Brazil near Venezuelan border].

Janet: How did they get these fire arms?

Davi: They got them from the goldminers who invaded our land.

Janet: Are there Yanomami in the army base at Surucucú Davi’s comments about the period of the Neel collections must be understood as the recollections of a child at the time?

Davi: No. In the beginning they [government] wanted that. They called Yanomami to serve in the army base. But no. Life in the armed forces isn’t a good thing. It’s very bad. It’s another kind of work — another fight. So they went back. They continue to be Yanomami. You must be who you are, the way you are. If not, you will suffer alot. It will be wrong. You will do many things wrong.

Janet: In Homoxi do they have war?

Davi: I don’t know. The Escurimuteri were allies of the Wahakuwu and they are enemies of people of Thirei and Homoxi [villages I visited in 2000].

Janet: Do people of Thirei use shotguns?

Davi: Yes.

Janet: From where did they get them?

Davi: From the miners.

Formal Interview: Davi on the book Darkness in El Dorado by Patrick Tierney

Davi: An anthropologist entered Yanomami lands in Venezuela. Many people know about this. …This book told stories about the Yanomami and it spread everywhere. So I remembered it when our friend [unnamed anthropologist] mentioned his name. When that young man spoke the name I remembered. We called him Waru. He was over there in Hasabuiteri… Shamatari…A few people — Brazilian anthropologists — are asking me what I think about this.

Anthropologists who enter the Yanomami area — whether Brazil or Venezuela — should speak with the people first to establish friendships; speak to the headman to ask for permissions; arrange money for flights. Because nabu (the white) doesn’t travel without money. Nabu doesn’t travel by land. Only by plane. It’s very far. So he’s very far away, this anthropologist who worked among the Shamatari. Those people are different.

He arrived, like you, making conversation, taking photos, asking about what he saw. He arrived as a friend, without any fighting. But he had a secret. You can sleep in the shabono, take photos, I’m not saying no. It’s part of getting to know us.
But, later what happened was this. After one or two months he started to learn our language. Then he started to ask questions, “Where did we come from, who brought us here?” And the Yanomami answered, we are from right here! This is our land! This is where Omam placed us. This is our land. Then the anthropologist wanted to learn our language. I know a little Shamatari, but not much. So, he stayed there in the shabono, and he thought it was beautiful. He thanked the headman and he took some things with him. He brought pans, knives, machetes, axes. And so he arrived ready, ready to trick the Yanomami. This is how the story goes. I was small at the time…[pointing to a boy] like this..about nine. I remember. I remember when people from there came to our shabono. They said, “A white man is living over there. He speaks our language, he brings presents, hammocks.” They said that he was good, he was generous. He paid people in trade when he took photos, when he made interviews, [or] wrote in Portuguese [likely Spanish], English, and Yanomami, and taperecording too. But he didn’t say anything to me. [tape changes here]

An anthropologist should really help, as a friend. He shouldn’t deceive. He should defend…defend him when he is sick, and defend the land as well…saying “You should not come here — the Yanomami are sick.” If a Yanomami gets a cold, he can die. But he didn’t help with this. The first thing that interested him was our language. So today, we are hearing — other Yanomami are talking about it — people from Papiu, Piri, and here. People of Tootobi — my brothers-in-law — they also are talking about the American anthropologist who worked in Hasabuiteri. He wrote a book. When people made a feast and afterward a fight happened, the anthropologist took alot of photos and he also taped it. This is how it began. The anthropologist began to lose his fear — he became fearless. When he first arrived he was afraid. Then he developed courage. He wanted to show that he was brave. If the Yanomami could beat him, he could beat them. This is what the people in Tootobi told us. I am here in Watorei, but I am from Tootobi. I am here to help these people. So I knew him. He arrived speaking Yanomami. People thought he was Yanomami. There was also a missionary. He didn’t help either. They were friends. That’s how it was. He accompanied the Yanomami in their feasts…taking [the hallucinogen] ebena, and after, at the end of the feast, the Yanomami fought. They beat on one anothers’ chests with a stone, breaking the skin. This anthropologist took photos. And so he saved it, he “kept” the fight. So, after, when the fight was over, and the Yanomami lay down in their hammocks, in pain, the anthropologist recorded it all on paper. He noted it all on paper. He wrote what he saw, he wrote that the Yanomami fought. He thought it was war. This isn’t war, no! But he wrote without asking the people in the community. You have to ask first. He should have asked, “Yanomami, why are you fighting? You are fighting, hitting your very brother.” He should have helped us to stop fighting. But he didn’t. He’s no good.

I will explain.

The nabu [whites] think that every type of fighting is war. But there are three kinds of fighting [as follows].

Ha’ati kayu [titles were added later]: the chest fight to relieve anger. Let’s say your relatives take a woman. So you get angry. The Yanomami talk and form a group to fight against the other group that took the woman. So they make a feast. They call him [the relative that took the woman.] They hold him and use this club [gesturing to indicate a length about a foot long] to hit him on the chest. This club-striking is not war. It’s fighting. So, let’s say this guy took my woman. I become his enemy. So I hit him here [pointing to chest]. I want to cause him pain. He can hit me too. This club is not war. It’s to get rid of a mess in the community. Then there’s the headman. What does the headman do? He says, “OK, you have already fought. Now stop this.” So they stop. This fight doesn’t kill anyone.

Xeyu. There’s another kind of fight, Xeyu. Let’s say I have a friend who speaks badly of me. He might say I’m a coward, or he might say I’m no good. So he has to fight my relatives, my family. I have ten brothers. So I can decide whether he’s a man, whether he has courage. So we call friends from other shabonos and set a date. We go into the forest and make a small clearing for the fight, so people can see that we are angry. We take this weapon — it’s a long stick — about 10 ms long. So everyone is there. I’m here, and the enemy is there. Everyone is ready to hit. When I hit the enemy he hits me as well. My brother hits his brother and his brother hits mine back. This is how we fight [two lines with people fighting in pairs].

Janet: How does it end?

Davi: When everyone is covered with blood — heads bloodied, everyone beaten. So the headman says, ‘OK, enough. We’ve already shed blood. So, it’s over. This isn’t war either, no.

Janet: It’s not war. But it includes one group lined up on one side, and another on the other — yes?

Davi: Yes. One group of brothers or the members of a shabono in one line and the other brothers in another line.

Davi: Then there is another kind of fight with a club that’s about a meter long — Genei has one. Everyone gathers and stands in the center of the shabono. The enemy comes over. But again the headman is there. He says, ‘you can’t hit here, you can’t hit here [gesturing] — you can only hit here — in the middle of the head. It doesn’t kill anyone.

Yaimu, Noataiyu, Nakayu, Wainakayu, Bulayu. But if you hit in the wrong place, he can die. So, if this happens, a brother will grab an arrow and go after the one who killed his brother. They will both die — the first with club, the second with arrow. So, what happens? The relatives of the man killed with the club carry the body to the shabono. They take it there. They put it in the fire, burn it, gather the ashes and remaining bones and pound them into powder. They put the ash in a calabash bowl. His father, his mother, his brothers, all of his relatives sit there at the edge of the fire, crying. So the warrior thinks. If they have ten warriors, all angry, they are going to avenge the death. So the father may say, “Look, they killed my son with a club, not with arrow.” He can stop the fighting right there and then. Or, he can say, “Now we will kill them with arrows.” Then they would get all their relatives and friends from the shabono and nearby communities. They make a large feast, bringing everyone together. We call this Yaimu, Noataiyu, Nakayu, Wainakayu, Bulayu. Then they get manioc bread [beiju] and offer food to everyone. Everyone is friends — the enemies are way over there. Then they leave together. The women stay in the house, and the warriors leave to make war. They cover themselves in black paint. This is war. This is war: Waihu, Ni’aiyu. Waihu, Ni’aiyu, Niaplayu, Niyu aiyu. Then, at about nine or ten o’clock at night they start walking. These warriors are going to sleep at about 5 AM. In the forest they make a small lean-to of saplings. The next day they leave again. They are nearing the enemy. After tomorrow they are there. They don’t arrive in the open — they sneak up on the shabono. They move in closer about 3 or 4 in the morning. The enemies are sleeping in the shabono. The warriors arrive just as the sun is coming up. This is ‘fighting with arrows’ — Waihu, Ni’aiyu, Niaplayu, Niyu aiyu. These are war — war with arrows, to kill. He [the enemy] can be brother, cousin, uncle.

Janet: Is it vengeance?

Davi: It is vengeance.

Davi: So this Chagnon, he was there; he accompanied it. He took photographs, he recorded on tape, and he wrote on paper. He wrote down the day, the time, the name of the shabono, the name of the local descent group. He put down these names. But he didn’t ask us. So we are angry. He worked. He said that the Yanomami are no good, that the Yanomami are ferocious. So this story, he made this story. He took it to the United States. He had a friend who published it. It was liked. His students thought that he was a courageous man, an honest man, with important experience.

Janet: What is the word for courageous?

Davi: Waiteri. He is waiteri because he was there. He is waiteri because he was giving orders. He ordered the Yanomami to fight among themselves. He paid with pans, machetes, knives, fishooks.

Janet: Is this the truth or this is what is being said?

Davi: It’s the truth.

Janet: He paid directly or indirectly?

Davi: No, he didn’t pay directly. Only a small part. The life of the indian that dies is very expensive. But he paid little. He made them fight more to improve his work. The Yanomami didn’t know his secret.

Janet: But why did he want to make the Yanomami fight?

Davi: To make his book. To make a story about fighting among the Yanomami. He shouldn’t show the fights of the others. The Yanomami did not authorize this. He did it in the United States. He thought it would be important for him. He became famous. He is speaking badly about us. He is saying that the Yanomami are fierce, that they fight alot, that they are no good. That the Yanomami fight over women.

Janet: It is not because of women.

Davi: It’s not over women that we go to war.

Janet: It’s not over women that one goes to war with arrows?

Davi: It’s not over women that we go to war with arrows. It is because of male warriors that kill other male warriors.
Janet: to avenge the death?

Davi: [Yes,] to avenge. I no longer think that the Yanomami should authorize every anthropologist who appears. Because these books come out in public.

I ask if he has message.

Davi: I don’t know the anthropologists of the United States. If they want to help, if …you whites use the judicial process ..
Janet: Would you like to send a message to the American Anthropological Association?

DAVI’S MESSAGE TO THE AMERICAN ANTHROPOLOGICAL ASSOCIATION

Davi: I would like to speak to the young generation of anthropologists. Not to the old ones who have already studied and think in the old ways. I want to speak to the anthropologists who love nature, who like indigenous people — who favor the planet earth and indigenous peoples. This I would like. This is new, clean, thinking. To write a new book that anyone would like, instead of speaking badly about indigenous peoples. There must be born a new anthropologist who is in favor of a new future. And the message I have for him is to work with great care. If a young anthropologist enters here in Brazil or Venezuela, he should work like a friend. Arrive here in the shabono. He should say, “I am an anthropologist; I would like to learn your language. After, I would like to teach you.” Tell us something of the world of the whites. The world of the whites is not good. It is good, but it is not all good. There are good people and bad people. So, “I am an anthropologist here in the shabono, defending your rights and your land, your culture, your language, don’t fight among yourselves, don’t kill your own relatives.”

We already have an enemy among us — it is disease. This enemy kills indeed. It is disease that kills. We are all enemies of disease. So the anthropologist can bring good messages to the Indian. They can understand what we are doing, we can understand what they are doing. We can throw out ideas to defend the Yanomami, even by helping the Yanomami understand the ways of the whites to protect ourselves. They cannot speak bad of the Yanomami. They can say, “The Yanomami are there in the forest. Let’s defend them. Let’s not allow invasions. Let’s not let them die of disease.” But not to use the name of the indian to gain money. The name of the Indian is more valuable than paper. The soul of the Indian that you capture in your image is more expensive than the camera with which you shoot it. You have to work calmly. You have to work the way nature works. You see how nature works. It rains a little. The rain stops. The world clears. This is how you have to work, you anthropologists of the United States.

I never studied anything. But I am a shaman, hekura. So I have a capacity to speak in Yanomami and to speak in Portuguese. But I can’t remember all the Portuguese words.

Ari: You have to be clear, this is important.

Davi: To repeat, Chagnon is not a good friend of our relatives. He lived there, but he acted against other relatives. He had alot of pans. I remember the pans. Our relatives brought them from there. They were big and they were shallow. He bought them in Venezuela. When he arrived [at the village], and called everyone together, he said, [Yanomami]…”That shabono, three or four shabonos,” as if it were a ball game. “Whoever is the most courageous will earn more pans. If you kill ten more people I will pay more. If you kill only two, I will pay less.” Because the pans came from there. They arrived at Wayupteri, Wayukupteri, and Tootobi. Our relatives came from Wayupteri and said, “This Chagnon is very good. He gives us alot of utensils. He is giving us pans because we fight alot.”

Janet: They killed them and they died?

Davi: Yes. Because they used poison on the point of the arrow. This isn’t good. This kills. Children cried; fathers, mothers, cried. Only Chagnon was happy. Because in his book he says we are fierce. We are garbage. The book says this; I saw it. I have the book. He earned a name there, Watupari. It means king vulture — that eats decaying meat. We use this name for people who give alot of orders. He smells the indians and decides where he will land on the earth. He ordered the Yanomami to fight. He never spoke about what he was doing.

Davi: And, the blood. If he had been our friend he would not have helped the doctor of the United States. He would have said, you can go to the Yanomami. The Yanomami don’t kill anyone — only when you order them to. Chagnon brought the doctors there, he interpreted because the Yanomami don’t speak English. When the doctor requested something he translated it. So when the doctor wanted to take blood, Chagnon translated it. But he didn’t explain the secret. We didn’t know either — no one understood the purpose of giving blood; no one knew what the blood had inside it. …

After, the missionaries who lived in Totoobi spoke to my uncle, my father-in-law. He said, “Look, this doctor would like to take your blood; will you permit it?” And the Yanomami said, “Yes.” He agreed because he would receive pans — pans, machetes.

Janet: But he didn’t explain why?

Davi: The Yanomami was just supposed to give blood and stand around looking. He didn’t talk about malaria, flu, tuberculosis, or dysentery. He said nothing about these things. But he took alot of blood. He even took my blood. With a big bottle like this. He put the needle here [pressing the veins of his inner arm]; put it here, the rubber tube over here. He took alot! I was about nine or ten. He arrived there in Totoobi with the doctor. Chagnon translated. The missionaries, Protestants, lived there in Totoobi. They camped there. They slept there. And they ordered us to call other relatives: there were three shabonos. They called everyone together. Husband, wife, and children, altogether. They always took the blood of one family together. They took my mother’s blood. They took my uncle’s blood. My father had already died. And me. And my sister. She remembers it too. It was a bottle — a big one — like this. He put a needle in your arm and the blood came out. He paid with matihitu– machete, fishhooks, knives. The doctor asked him to speak for him. He translated. He would say, “Look, this doctor wants you to allow him to take your blood.” And the Yanomami understood and allowed it. The missionaries who lived there hardly helped. They were mimahodi, innocents.

Janet: The law controls this now.

Davi: Nobody can do this anymore. So now we are asking about this blood that was taken from us without explanation, without saying anything, without the results. We want to know the findings. What did they find in the blood — information regarding disease? What was good? Our relatives whose blood was taken are now dead. My mother is dead; our uncles, our relatives have died. But their blood is in the United States. But some relatives are still alive. Those survivors are wondering — “What have the doctors that are studying our blood found? What do they think? Will they send us a message? Will they ask authorization to study and look at our blood?” I think that Yanomami blood is O positive. Is it useful in their bodies? If that’s the case, and our blood is good for their bodies — then they’ll have to pay. If it helped cure a disease over there, then they should compensate us. If they don’t want to pay, then they should consider returning our blood. To return our blood for our terahonomi. If he doesn’t want to return anything, then lawyers will have to resolve the issue. I am trying to think of a word that whites do…sue. If he doesn’t want to pay, then we should sue. If he doesn’t want a suit, then he should pay. Whoever wants to use it, can use it. But they’ll have to pay. It’s not their blood. We’re asking for our blood back. If they are going to use our blood then they have to pay us.

Janet: I don’t know where it is. It may be in a university.

Davi: The blood of the Yanomami can’t stay in the United States. It can’t. It’s not their blood.

Janet: So this is a request for those who have stored the blood?

Davi: I am speaking to them. You take this recording to them. You should explain this to them. You should ask them, “What do you Nabu think?” In those days no one knew anything. Even I didn’t know anything. But now I am wanting to return to the issue. My mother gave blood. Now my mother is dead. Her blood is over there. Whatever is of the dead must be destroyed. Our customs is that when the Yanomami die, we destroy everything. To keep it, in a freezer, is not a good thing. He will get sick. He should return the Yanomami blood; if he doesn’t, he [the doctor] and his children will become ill; they will suffer.

Janet: Were there repercussions in the area of medical services after this book came out?

Davi: No. FUNAI used to bring in vaccines. When they stopped the government health agency, FUNASA, took over. Now it’s [the NGO] URIHI. They have ten posts in the region and bring vaccines to all the villages. Each post has an employee.

Janet: Are these services only on the Brazilian side of the border?

Davi: Only in Brazil.

Janet: Is that why Yanomami from Venezuela frequent the URIHI posts?

Davi: Yes. Here we have a chief. The president of Brazil. He is bad, but he is also good. He provides a little money for us to get medicines. He provides airplanes and nurses to bring vaccinations and treatments from Boa Vista all the way here. The Brazilian government is now helping — somewhat. It’s not very much, but it is something. We in Brazil are very concerned about our Venezuelan relatives. Because over there people are dying — many people — from malaria, flu.

Ari: I am talking about the epidemic of measles in 1968. I am asking Davi if this began before or after the arrival of Neel and Chagnon.

Davi: I think it began before their arrival. Many were dying. After they took blood, many died. So this missionary, Kitt, went to Manaus. He went to Manaus and there his daughter became ill with measles. She picked up measles in Manaus. At first they didn’t know it was measles. They took a plane from Manaus to Boa Vista and from there to Totoobi. She arrived sick there, all three — father, mother and child. Then they realized that it was measles. So they asked us to please stay away from them. He said, “If you get measles you will all die. Please stay far away.” They had no vaccine in those days. A Yanomami entered to greet her and he ordered the Yanomami to leave. But he had already caught it. So then the missionary spoke to us all, saying, “Look, you can’t come to our house because my daughter is ill with measles. Stay in your house.” It didn’t accomplish anything. The disease spread. It went to the shabono. Everyone began to get sick, and to die. Three nearby shabonos — each of them with people ill and dying. My uncle was the first to die. Then my mother died. Another sister, uncle, cousin, nephew. Many died. I was very sick but I didn’t die. I think Omam protected me to give this testimony. My sister and I remained.

Janet: Your uncle died, your nephew, your mother…

Davi: uncle, nephew, mother, relatives…So, later [when the road opened], we died also. This place was part of Catrimani. When the road [BR 210, Perimetral Norte] was open, there were MANY people here. Most died then of measles. Only a few survived [he recalls the names of the survivors] — only ten men survived. I was here [working with FUNAI at the time], we brought vaccines for the measles epidemic then. These things happened in our land…FUNAI didn’t take care of us before the road opened.

Janet: What years are we discussing?

Davi: 1976, no 1975.

Ari: The road went from the Wai Wai to the mission at Catrimani.

Davi: They had roads BR 210-215.

Ari: After it was closed the forest reclaimed the road.

Janet: When was it closed?

Davi: After the invasion of the garimpeiros.

Janet: Did the garimpeiros come in this far by road?

Davi: Yes. We would try to stop them. I once got everyone together to go to the road with bows and arrows to block the entrance. I said, this isn’t a place for miners. We won’t allow it. I said if you want to mine, it had better be far from here, because if you stay here you will die here. Our warriors are angry. So they left. I invented all that so they would leave and they did. So they passed by. There were more than 150 — more people than we had.

Janet: Is there a word for “warrior” in Yanomami?

Davi: Yes, waiteri.

Janet: Waiteri means warrior.

Davi: Yes; waiteri is courageous, brave. Those that aren’t are horebu.

Janet: And that means..?

Davi: Scared, fearful, weak.

Janet: Do these concepts have power still today?

Davi: No. This fight isn’t going on any more. But we are still waiteri. No one controls us. Here, we control ourselves. And there are some warriors. There’s one over there in Ananebu. A waiteri is over there in Ananebu, in the forest. Here at home, in THIS shabono, we are all cowards [chuckles].

Davi Interviews Janet

Davi: I want to ask you about these American anthropologists. Why are they fighting among themselves? Is it because of this book? Is this book bad? Did one anthropologist like it and another one say it’s wrong?

Janet: First, in the culture of anthropologists there is a type of fighting. This fight comes out in the form of publications. One anthropologist says, ‘things are like this,’ the other one says, ‘no, things are like this.’ So, after Chagnon’s book came out he received many criticisms from other anthropologists. Some said, this should not be called war. Just as you said. But Chagnon provided a definition of war and continued to use that word. This was one of the criticisms made by anthropologists. After this there were others, and these debates went on in the publications and in conferences. In the year 1994 there was a conference in which anthropologists debated the anthropology of Chagnon and others among the Yanomami. In 1988-89, when there was a struggle over demarcation of Yanomami lands and the Brazilian government favored demarcation in island fragments, the anthropologists of Brazil criticized Chagnon’s image of the Yanomami as “fierce,” saying it served the interests of the military in limiting Yanomami land rights. At that time the American Anthropological Association did not have explicit ethical guidelines. At that point they formed a committee to develop guidelines for ethical fieldwork and a committee of human rights. Now, with the book by Tierney and the support of anthropologists who have had criticisms of Chagnon, the issue was brought before the Association. This raises questions about the ethical conduct of anthropologists.

Davi: But will the anthropologists resolve this problem?

Janet: They will demand that anthropologists conform to the norms of the newly revised ethics. They will explicitly clarify the obligations of the anthropologists.

Ari: In 1968 when Chagnon worked, there was no code of ethics of the Association.

Davi: What about the taking of blood?

Janet: Performing any experimentation has been controlled by the medical profession since 1971. It is now prohibited to involve people in experiments without their explicit authorization. They must be made completely aware of the advantages and disadvantages, and all purposes. They must decide whether they will agree or disagree to participate. Nowadays, this consent has to be in writing or taped.

Davi: This Yanomami blood is going to stay there? Or will they return the blood?

Janet: I don’t know. It must be in a blood bank, perhaps at the University of Michigan.

Ari: Chagnon [once] proposed an exchange between the Universidade Federal of Roraima and the University of California at Santa Barbara. He was proposing a collaboration in human genetics with a graduate student in biology. She worked with DNA. He invited her there. Her name is Sylvana Fortes. She is now doing a doctorate at FIUCRUZ in Rio de Janeiro. Another issue in this dispute is Darwinian evolutionism. Is this the idea of the impact of the environment on man?

Davi: I don’t like this, no. I don’t like these anthropologists who use the name of the Yanomami on paper, in books. One doesn’t like it. Another says its wrong. For us Yanomami, this isn’t good. They are using our name as if we were children. The name Yanomami has to be respected. It’s not like a ball to throw around, to play with, hitting from one side to another. The name Yanomami refers to the indigenous peoples of Brazil and Venezuela. It must be respected. This name is authority. It is an old name. It is an ancient name. These anthropologists are treating us like animals — as they would fish or birds. Omam created us first. We call him Omam. He created earth, forest, trees, birds, river, this earth. We call him Omam. After him, he called us Yanomami [Yan-Omam-i]. So it must be respected. No one uses it on paper to fight — they have to respect it. It is our name and the name of our land. They should speak well of us. They should say, “These Yanomami were here first in Brazil and Venezuela.” They should respect us! They should also say that we preserve our land. Yanomami know how to conserve, to care for their lands. Yanomami never destroyed the earth. I would like to read this. Speaking well of Omam, and of the Yanomami. This would be good. But if they are going to go on fighting like this–I think that the head of the anthropologists has money …

Ari: But Tierney’s book, even as it criticizes Chagnon, has become a major seller. He is earning money selling his book because of the theme. …

Davi: Bruce Albert, Alcida Ramos are not Yanomami. You have to call the very Yanomami, to hear them speak. Look, Alcida speaks Sanuma. Chagnon speaks Shamatari. And Bruce speaks our language. So there are three anthropologists who can call three Yanomami to speak at this meeting. The anthropologists should ask us directly. The Yanomami can speak his own language. These anthropologists can translate. They have to hear our language. They have to hear us in our own language. What does the Yanomami think? What does the Yanomami think is beautiful? You have to ask the Yanomami themselves. These people are making money from the Yanomami name. Our name has value. They are playing with the name of an ancient people. I don’t know alot about politics. But I see and hear that an anthropologist is becoming famous. Famous — why? Some think its good. So he became famous, like a chief. So among them nothing will be resolved. One becomes famous, the other one [his critic] becomes famous, and they go on fighting among themselves and making money…

Janet: Did you know Tierney?

Davi: I met him in Boa Vista. I went to his house. He didn’t say anything to me about what he was doing. So, Chagnon made money using the name of the Yanomami. He sold his book. Lizot too. I want to know how much they are making each month. How much does any anthropologist earn? And how much is Patrick making? Patrick must be happy. This is alot of money. They may be fighting but they are happy. They fight and this makes them happy. They make money and fight.

Janet: Yes; the anthropologists are fighting. Patrick is a journalist.

Davi: Patrick left the fight to the others! He can let the anthropologists fight with Chagnon, and he, Patrick, he’s outside, he’s free. He’s just bringing in the money — he must be laughing at the rest. Its like starting a fight among dogs. Then they fight, they bark and he’s outside. He spoke bad of the anthropologist — others start fighting, and he’s gaining money! The name Yanomami is famous [and valuable] — more famous than the name of any anthropologist. So he’s earning money without sweating, without hurting his hands, without the heat of the sun. He’s not suffering. He just sits and writes, this is great for him. He succeeded in writing a book that is bringing in money. Now he should share some of this money with the Yanomami. We Yanomami are here, suffering from malaria, flu, sick all the time. But he’s there in good health — just spending the money that he gained in the name of the Yanomami Indians.

Ari: One American had patented the name Yanomami on the internet.

Davi: She was using our name for an internet site or to write a book and earn US$20,000. A Canadian working for CCPY discovered this. My friend explained that they are using the name of the Yanomami without requesting authorization. I said I didn’t like it. So I sent her a letter. She was an American journalist. So she stopped. So I was able to salvage the name of the Yanomami. … They have alot of names. They don’t know the trunk and the roots of the Yanomami. They only know the name. But the trunk and the roots of the Yanomami, they don’t know. They don’t know where we were born, how we were born, who brought us here. Without knowing these things, no one can use the name.

I am speaking to the American Anthropology Association. They are trying to clean up this problem. They should bring three Yanomami to their meeting. There are three anthropologists who understand our three languages: Chagnon, Alcida, and Bruce. These anthropologists could translate. We could speak, and people could ask questions of us. I could go myself, but it would be best to have three from Venezuela, or four, perhaps one from Brazil. They need to see our faces. Alcida doesn’t look like a Yanomami. Nor do Bruce or Chagnon. They don’t have Yanomami faces. The Americans will believe us if they see us. I went to the United States during the fight against the goldminers. They believed me. For this reason, I say, it’s important to go there and speak to them. … This is a fight between men who make money.

I ask what the appropriate form of compensation for an anthropology interview, and he says money. “That way he can buy what he wants — pan, machete, axe, line, fishing hooks. It is good to speak to Yanomami. If you give money to the whites, they put it in their pocket. Nabu loves money. It’s for this reason that the nabu are fighting. Its not for him, for friends, its for money.”

Jungle Fever: Marshall Sahlins on Napoleon Chagnon and the Darkness in El Dorado controversy (The Washington Post)

Internet Source: The Washington Post, BOOK WORLD; Pg. X01, December 10, 2000

Jungle Fever

Marshall Sahlins

DARKNESS IN EL DORADO
How Scientists and Journalists
Devastated the Amazon
By Patrick Tierney
Norton. 417 pp. $ 27.95

Guilty not as charged.

Well before it reached the bookstores, Patrick Tierney’s Darkness in El Dorado set off a flurry of publicity and electronic debate over its allegations that, at about the same time American soldiers were carrying out search-and-destroy missions in the jungles of Vietnam, American scientists were doing something like research-and-destroy by knowingly spreading disease in the jungles of Amazonia. On closer examination, the alleged scientific horror turned out to be something less than that, even as it was always the lesser part of Tierney’s book. By far the greater part is the story, sufficiently notorious in its own right, of the well-known anthropologist Napoleon Chagnon: of his work among the Yanomami people of Venezuela and his fame among the science tribe of America.

The pre-publication sound and fury, however, concerned the decorated geneticist and physician the late James Neel–for whose researches in the upper Orinoco during the late 1960s and early 1970s Chagnon had served as a jungle advance man and blood collector. Sponsored by the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission (AEC), Neel’s investigations were designed to establish mutation rates in a population uncontaminated by nuclear radiation for comparison with the survivors of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But according to Tierney, Neel also had another agenda: He wanted to test an original theory of immunity-formation in a “virgin soil” population, exposed for the first time to a devastating foreign disease. Hence the sensational chapter on “The Outbreak,” where Tierney alleges that Neel abetted, if not created, a deadly measles epidemic by inoculating Yanomami Indians with an outmoded type of vaccine known to cause severe reactions. Or so it says in the original review galleys of the book.

But by the time Darkness in El Dorado was published, it was already in a second, revised edition, one that qualified some of Tierney’s more sensational claims in the galley proofs of “The Outbreak.” Tierney is an investigative journalist, and critical aspects of his original indictment of Neel took the form of well-documented speculation, leaving plenty of space for the heated exchanges by e-mail and Internet that ensued among respectable scholars who for the most part hadn’t read the book. These hasty incriminations and recriminations created their own versions of what Neel had done–and, accordingly, criticisms of Tierney that had nothing to do with what he had said. Still, it became clear enough that Neel could not have originated or spread genuine measles by the vaccine he administered. Tierney then revised the conclusion of the relevant chapter in the published version, making the vaccine issue more problematic–and to that extent, the chapter self-contradictory. Other issues, such as whether Neel was doing some kind of experiment that got out of hand, remain unresolved as of this writing.

The brouhaha in cyberspace seemed to help Chagnon’s reputation as much as Neel’s, for in the fallout from the latter’s defense many academics also took the opportunity to make tendentious arguments on Chagnon’s behalf. Against Tierney’s brief that Chagnon acted as an anthro-provocateur of certain conflicts among the Yanomami, one anthropologist solemnly demonstrated that warfare was endemic and prehistoric in the Amazon. Such feckless debate is the more remarkable because most of the criticisms of Chagnon rehearsed by Tierney have been circulating among anthropologists for years, and the best evidence for them can be found in Chagnon’s writings going back to the 1960s.

The ’60s were the longest decade of the 20th century, and Vietnam was the longest war. In the West, the war prolonged itself in arrogant perceptions of the weaker peoples as instrumental means of the global projects of the stronger. In the human sciences, the war persists in an obsessive search for power in every nook and cranny of our society and history, and an equally strong postmodern urge to “deconstruct” it. For his part, Chagnon writes popular textbooks that describe his ethnography among the Yanomami in the 1960s in terms of gaining control over people.

Demonstrating his own power has been not only a necessary condition of Chagnon’s fieldwork, but a main technique of investigation. In a scientific reprise of a losing military tactic, he also attempted to win the hearts and minds of the people by a calculated redistribution of material wealth, and in so doing, managed to further destabilize the countryside and escalate the violence. Tierney quotes a prominent Yanomami leader: “Chagnon is fierce. Chagnon is very dangerous. He has his own personal war.” Meanwhile, back in California a defender of Chagnon in the e-mail battles has lauded him as “perhaps the world’s most famous living social anthropologist.” The Kurtzian narrative of how Chagnon achieved the political status of a monster in Amazonia and a hero in academia is truly the heart of Darkness in El Dorado. While some of Tierney’s reporting has come under fire, this is nonetheless a revealing book, with a cautionary message that extends well beyond the field of anthropology. It reads like an allegory of American power and culture since Vietnam.

“I soon learned that I had to become very much like the Yanomami to be able to get along with them on their terms: sly, aggressive, and intimidating,” Chagnon writes in his famous study Yanomamo: The Fierce People. This was not the usual stance toward fieldwork in the 1960s, when the anthropologist already enjoyed the protection of the colonial masters. Chagnon was working in the Amazonian Wild West, populated by small, independent and mobile communities in uneasy relations of alliance and hostility that could readily escalate to death by poisoned arrow. Moreover, when Chagnon began to collaborate with biological scientists, his fieldwork became highly peripatetic itself, and highly demanding of the Yanomami’s compliance. By 1974, he had visited 40 to 50 villages in less than as many months, collecting blood, urine and genealogies–a tour punctuated by stints of filmmaking with the noted cineaste Timothy Asch. Hitting-and-running, Chagnon did fieldwork in the mode of a military campaign.

This helps explain why many other anthropologists who have done longer and more sedentary work in particular Yanomami villages, including former students and colleagues of Chagnon, have disavowed his one-sided depiction of the Yanomami as “a fierce people.” “The biggest misnomer in the history of anthropology,” said anthropologist Kenneth Good of Chagnon’s use of that phrase in the title of his popular textbook.

Good and other Yanomami specialists make it clear that the supreme accolade of Yanomami personhood–the term waiteri that Chagnon translates as “fierce people”–involves a subtle combination of valor, humor and generosity. All of these, moreover, are reciprocal relations. One should return blow for blow, and Chagnon is hardly the only male anthropologist to get into dust-ups with Yanomami warriors. But according to his own account, while Chagnon readily joined the negative game of holding one’s ground, he knowingly brought contempt on himself by refusing to be generous with food. Continuous food-sharing is a basic criterion of humanity for Yanomami, the material foundation of their sociality.

Needing blood and information quickly, Chagnon would announce his visits to a village in the guise of a Yanomami warrior: dressed only in loincloth, body painted red, feathered–and carrying a shotgun. His field kits have been known to contain chemical mace and an electric stun gun. He tried to cultivate a reputation for dangerous magical power by engaging in narcotic shamanistic seances. When someone stole from him, he got children to inform on the thief; then he returned the favor by carrying off the latter’s hammock until he got his stuff back. But when it came to the reciprocity of food sharing, he protested that he could not feed the whole village. On the contrary, he disgusted curious Yanomami by telling them the canned frankfurters he was eating were animal penises, and peanut butter likewise was just what it looked like. Unselfconsciously, he acknowledges that his unwillingness to share food generously or widely made him “despicable in their eyes.”

“The next morning,” he writes, “I began the delicate task of identifying everyone by name and numbering them with indelible ink to make sure that everyone had only one name and identity.” Chagnon inscribed these indelible identification numbers on people’s arms–barely 20 years after World War II.

But he indeed had a delicate problem. He badly needed to know the people’s names and their genealogies. This information was indispensable to the AEC biological studies. He was also engaged in an absurdist anthropological project, which he took seriously, of finding ancestor-based lineage institutions among a people who by taboo could not know, could not trace and could not name their ancestors–or for that matter, could not bear to hear their own names. To utter people’s names in their presence is the gravest offense, a horror: “In battle they shout out the name because they are enemies.” As for the dead, they are completely excluded from Yanomami society, ritually as well as verbally, as a necessary condition of the continued existence of the living. But for the sake of science, Chagnon had to know–and so set in motion an opposition between their humanity and his epistemology that developed progressively through his professorial career.

Chagnon invented draconian devices for getting around the name taboos. He exploited animosities within the village to induce some people to tell on others. He “bribed” (his quotation marks) children to disclose names when their elders were not around. Most productive of all, he went to enemy villages to get people’s genealogies, and then confirmed the information by seeing if they got angry when he recited the names to their faces. By the early 1970s Chagnon had collected some 10,000 Yanomami names, including 7,000 names of the dead. It must have caused a lot of pain and hate.

Collecting names and blood was destabilizing not only for the insults it required, but because Chagnon was buying these with large payments of machetes, axes, utensils and other steel trade goods. These were prize objects of Yanomami desire, but not simply because of their economic advantages. The history of native Americans is too often written as if there had to be a white man behind every red man. Incorporating the foreign technology in their own cultural order, the Yanomami became the authors of its distinctive historical effects. They placed imported steel in the highest category of their own hierarchy of values, together with their most precious things, a position to which the foreign objects were entitled because of their analogous associations with marvelous powers–in this case, European powers. Surely steel was useful, but its utility was transcendent, beyond the ways Yanomami knew of making or controlling things. And as signs and means of power, the foreign goods were engaged in the fundamental transactions of a native Yanomami system of alliance and competition. They were materials of feasting, marriage payments, trading, making alliances, attracting followers, sorcerizing and much more. More than producing food, trade goods produced and reproduced Yanomami culture, hence every kind of satisfaction the Yanomami know. Accordingly, the foreign goods themselves became objects of native competition–as did their human sources, notably Napoleon Chagnon.

Chagnon was not the only outsider whose distribution of steel goods plunged him in a maelstrom of Yanomami violence, although it’s doubtful that any other anthropologist became so involved in participant-instigation. “The distribution of trade goods,” as Chagnon observed early on, “would always anger people who did not receive something they wanted, and it was useless to try and work any longer in the village.” Yet moving could only generate further contention, now among the villages so favored and disfavored by Chagnon’s presence. Hostilities thus tracked the always-changing geopolitics of Chagnon-wealth, including even pre-emptive attacks to deny others access to him. As one Yanomami man recently related to Tierney: “Shaki [Chagnon] promised us many things, and that’s why other communities were jealous and began to fight against us.”

Movie-making was an additional mode of provocation, especially when Chagnon and Timothy Asch used wealth to broker alliances among previously hostile groups for that purpose. The allies were then disposed to cement their newfound amity by combining in magical or actual raids on Yanomami third parties. Deaths from disease were also known to follow filming, prompting Tierney to observe that Chagnon and Asch were being awarded prizes for “the greatest snuff films of all time.”

Over time, the demands on Chagnon’s person and goods became more importuning and aggressive, to which he would respond with an equal and opposite display of machismo. (“He glared at me with naked hatred in his eyes, and I glared back at him in the same fashion.”) Soon enough he had good reason to fear for his life, by magical as well as physical attack–including the time when some erstwhile Yanomami friends shot arrows into an effigy of him. Yet Chagnon also knew how to mobilize his own camp. Early on, he fostered what was to become a life-long sociology of conflicts whose “basic logic,” as Tierney put it, saw “Yanomami villages opposed to Chagnon attacking those villages that received him.”

By 1976, however, Chagnon’s ethnography had cost him official anthropological support in Caracas, and for nearly a decade he was unable to secure a permit to resume fieldwork. In 1985, when he did return, in the company of one of his students, the latter reported they were greeted by a crowd of Indians shouting the Yanomami version of “Chagnon go home!” In 1989 Chagnon was again kept out because the law required that foreign researchers collaborate with Venezuelan scientists, and, as he complained to a missionary whose help he sought, “the local anthropologists do not like me.” Bereft of legitimate support, Chagnon returned in 1990 under the dubious aegis of Cecelia Matos, the mistress of then-president of Venezuela, and one Charles Brewer Carias, a self-proclaimed naturalist, known opponent of Indian land rights and entrepreneur with a reputation for illegal gold mining. The trio had concocted a scheme to create a Yanomami reserve and scientific biosphere in 6,000 square miles of the remote Siapa Highlands, to be directed by Brewer and Chagnon and subsidized by a foundation set up by Matos. According to Tierney, Brewer had his eye on rich tin resources in Yanomami territory. In an intensified repetition of a now-established pattern, the huge amount of goods that military aircraft ferried in for the project helped set off the bloodiest war in Yanomami history, with Chagnon’s people pitted against a coalition of Yanomami opponents, directed by a charismatic leader of their own.

In three years, the scheme collapsed. Matos was eventually indicted for corruption, in part for her role in commandeering military support for the reserve caper, and she remains a fugitive from Venezuelan justice. In September 1993, in the wake of huge protests that followed from their appointment as administrators of the reserve, Chagnon and Brewer were expelled from Yanomami territory by judicial decree. (Among the protesters were the 300 Indians representing 19 tribes at the first Amazon Indian Congress, who took to the streets against Chagnon and Brewer in the town of Porto Ayachuco.) An army colonel escorted Chagnon to Caracas and advised him to leave the country, which he did forthwith.

In America anyhow, he suffered no such indignities. On the contrary, the more unwanted Chagnon became in the Venezuelan jungle, the more celebrated he was in American science. The day before his last expulsion from Yanomami land, the New York Academy of Sciences held a special meeting devoted to his work.

In the course of Chagnon’s career, the further away he got from any sort of anthropological humanism, the more he became a natural scientist. (This could be a lesson for us all.) Whatever the accusations of ferocity and inhumanity made against his ethnography, he increasingly justified it by claims of empirical-scientific value. So he was able to answer his growing chorus of critics by the scientific assertion that they were “left-wing anthropologists,” “anti-Darwinian romantics” and other such practitioners of the “politically correct.” One might say that Chagnon made a scientific value of the belligerence in which he was entangled, elevating it to the status of the sociobiological theory that human social evolution positively selects for homicidal violence. Whatever the other consolations of this theory, it brought Chagnon the massive support of prominent sociobiologists. The support remained constant right through the fiasco that attended his attempt in 1988 to prove the reproductive (hence genetic) advantages of killing in the pages of Science.

The truth claims of the argument presented by Chagnon in Science may have had the shortest half-life of any study ever published in that august journal. Chagnon set out to demonstrate statistically that known killers among the Yanomami had more than twice as many wives and three times as many children as non-killers. This would prove that humans (i.e., men) do indeed compete for reproductive advantages, as sociobiologists claimed, and homicidal violence is a main means of the competition. Allowing the further (and fatuous) assumption that the Yanomami represent a primitive stage of human evolution, Chagnon’s findings would support the theory that violence has been progressively inscribed in our genes.

But Chagnon’s statistics were hardly out before Yanomami specialists dismembered them by showing, among other things, that designated killers among this people have not necessarily killed, nor have designated fathers necessarily fathered. Many more Yanomami are known as killers than there are people killed because the Yanomami accord the ritual status of man-slayer to sorcerers who do death magic and warriors who shoot arrows into already wounded or dead enemies. Anyhow, it is a wise father who knows his own child (or vice versa) in a society that practices wife-sharing and adultery as much as the Yanomami do. Archkillers, besides, are likely to father fewer children inasmuch as they are prime targets for vengeance, a possibility Chagnon conveniently omitted from his statistics by not including dead fathers of living children. Nor did his calculations allow for the effects of age, shamanistic attainments, headship, hunting ability or trading skill–all of which are known on ethnographic grounds to confer marital advantages for Yanomami men.

Supporters of Chagnon, and lately Chagnon himself, have defended his sociobiology by referring to several other studies showing that men who incarnate the values of their society, whatever these values may be, have the most sex and children. Even granting this to be true–except for our society, where the rich get richer but the poor get children–this claim only demonstrates that the genetic impulses of a people are under the control of their culture rather than the other way around. For dominant cultural values vary from society to society, even as they may change rapidly in any given society. There is no universal selective pressure for violence or any other genetic disposition, nor could genes track the behavioral values varying rapidly and independently of them. It follows that what is strongly selected for in human beings is the ability to realize innate biological dispositions in a variety of meaningful ways, by a great number of cultural means. Violence may be inherently satisfying, but we humans can make war on the playing fields of Eton, by sorcery, by desecrating the flag or a thousand other ways of “kicking butt,” including writing book reviews. What evolution has allowed us is the symbolic capacity to sublimate our impulses in all the kinds of cultural forms that human history has known.

In time, Chagnon became a legend of ferocity in the Amazon. Representations of him grew more monstrous in proportion to the scale of the struggles he provoked, and even his trade goods were poisoned with the memories of death. Tierney reports that shamans now portray his cameras, guns, helicopters and blood-collecting equipment as machinery of black magic, the products of a factory of xawara wakeshi, the deadly smoke of disease.

Yet in America, the scientific doctors accord the sociobiological gases emanating from this same technology the highest esteem, worthy of hours and hours of inhalation in the rooms of the New York Academy of Sciences. On college campuses across the country, Chagnon’s name is a dormitory word. His textbooks have sold in the millions. In the huge undergraduate courses that pass for education in major universities, his prize-winning films are able to hold late adolescents spellbound by primitivizing, hence, eternalizing, their own fascination with drugs, sex and violence. America.

Marshall Sahlins is the Charles F. Grey Distinguished Service Professor of Anthropology emeritus at the University of Chicago. He is the author of the just- published essay collection “Culture in Practice.

An Anthropologist’s War Stories (N.Y.Times)

BOOKS

“Noble Savages”

By 

Published: February 18, 2013

What were our early ancestors really like as they accomplished the transition from hunter-gathering bands to more complex settled societies? The anthropologist Napoleon A. Chagnon may have come closest to the answer in his 35-year study of a remarkable population, the Yanomamö of Venezuela and Brazil.

His new book, “Noble Savages,” has three themes. First, it is a beautifully written adventure story of how Dr. Chagnon learned to survive in an entirely alien culture and environment, among villages locked in perpetual warfare and jaguars that would stalk his tracks through the jungle. Second, it describes the author’s gradual piecing together of how Yanomamö society actually works, a matter of great relevance to recent human evolution. Third, it recounts his travails at the hands of the American Anthropological Association.

Most tribes studied by anthropologists have lost much of their culture and structure under Western influences. In the 1960s, when Dr. Chagnon first visited them, the Yanomamö were probably as close as could be to people living in a state of nature. Their warfare had not been suppressed by colonial powers. They had been isolated for so long, even from other tribes in the Amazon, that their language bears little or no relationship to any other. Consisting of some 25,000 people, living in 250 villages, the Yanomamö cultivated plantains, hunted wild animals and raided one another incessantly.

Trained as an engineer before taking up anthropology, Dr. Chagnon was interested in the mechanics of how the Yanomamö worked. He perceived that kinship was the glue that held societies together, so he started to construct an elaborate genealogy of the Yanomamö (often spelled Yanomani.)

The genealogy took many years, in part because of the Yanomamö taboo on mentioning the names of the dead. When completed, it held the key to unlocking many important features of Yanomamö society. One of Dr. Chagnon’s discoveries was that warriors who had killed a man in battle sired three times more children than men who had not killed.

His report, published in Science in 1988, set off a storm among anthropologists who believed that peace, not war, was the natural state of human existence. Dr. Chagnon’s descriptions of Yanomamö warfare had been bad enough; now he seemed to be saying that aggression was rewarded and could be inherited.

A repeated theme in his book is the clash between his empirical findings and the ideology of his fellow anthropologists. The general bias in anthropological theory draws heavily from Marxism, Dr. Chagnon writes. His colleagues insisted that the Yanomamö were fighting over material possessions, whereas Dr. Chagnon believed the fights were about something much more basic — access to nubile young women.

In his view, evolution and sociobiology, not Marxist theory, held the best promise of understanding human societies. In this light, he writes, it made perfect sense that the struggle among the Yanomamö, and probably among all human societies at such a stage in their history, was for reproductive advantage.

Men form coalitions to gain access to women. Because some men will be able to have many wives, others must share a wife or go without, creating a great scarcity of women. This is why Yanomamö villages constantly raid one another.

The raiding over women creates a more complex problem, that of maintaining the social cohesion required to support warfare. A major cause of a village’s splitting up is fights over women. But a smaller village is less able to defend itself against larger neighbors. The most efficient strategy to keep a village both large and cohesive through kinship bonds is for two male lineage groups to exchange cousins in marriage. Dr. Chagnon found that this is indeed the general system practiced by the Yanomamö.

After overtaxing one of his informants, the shaman Dedeheiwä, about the reason for a succession of village fissions into smaller hostile groups, Dr. Chagnon found himself rebuked with the outburst, “Don’t ask such stupid questions! Women! Women! Women! Women! Women!”

During his years of working among the Yanomamö, Dr. Chagnon fell into cross purposes with the Salesians, the Catholic missionary group that was the major Western influence in the Yanomamö region. Instead of traveling by canoe and foot to the remote Yanomamö villages, the Salesians preferred to induce the Yanomami to settle near their mission sites, even though it exposed them to Western diseases to which they had little or no immunity, Dr. Chagnon writes. He also objected to the Salesians’ offering the Yanomamö guns, which tribe members used to kill one another as well as for hunting.

The Salesians and Dr. Chagnon’s academic enemies saw the chance to join forces against him when the writer Patrick Tierney published a book, “Darkness in El Dorado” (2000), accusing Dr. Chagnon and the well-known medical geneticist James V. Neel of having deliberately caused a measles epidemic among the Yanomamö in 1968.

On the basis of these accusations, two of Dr. Chagnon’s academic critics denounced him to the American Anthropological Association, comparing him with the Nazi physician Josef Mengele. The association appointed a committee that, though it cleared Dr. Chagnon of the measles charge, was nevertheless hostile, accusing him of going against the Yanomamös’ interests.

In 2005, the association’s members voted by a 2-to-1 margin to rescind acceptance of the committee’s report. But the damage was done. Dr. Chagnon’s opponents in Brazil were able to block further research trips. His final years of research on the Yanomamö were disrupted.

In 2010 the A.A.A. voted to strip the word “science” from its long-range mission plan and focus instead on “public understanding.” Its distaste for science and its attack on Dr. Chagnon are now an indelible part of its record.

Dr. Chagnon’s legacy, on the other hand, is that he was able to gain a deep insight into the last remaining tribe living in a state of nature. “Noble Savages” is a remarkable testament to an engineer’s 35-year effort to unravel the complex working of an untouched human society.

Read an excerpt of “Noble Savages.”

A version of this review appeared in print on February 19, 2013, on page D3 of the New York edition with the headline: An Anthropologist’s War Stories.

How Napoleon Chagnon Became Our Most Controversial Anthropologist (N.Y.Times Magazine)

Brian Finke for The New York Times

Napoleon Chagnon, one of America’s best-known and most maligned anthropologists.

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Published: February 13, 2013 - 167 Comments

Among the hazards Napoleon Chagnon encountered in the Venezuelan jungle were a jaguar that would have mauled him had it not become confused by his mosquito net and a 15-foot anaconda that lunged from a stream over which he bent to drink. There were also hairy black spiders, rats that clambered up and down his hammock ropes and a trio of Yanomami tribesmen who tried to smash his skull with an ax while he slept. (The men abandoned their plan when they realized that Chagnon, a light sleeper, kept a loaded shotgun within arm’s reach.) These are impressive adversaries — “Indiana Jones had nothing on me,” is how Chagnon puts it — but by far his most tenacious foes have been members of his own profession.

All photographs from Napoleon Chagnon.

At 74, Chagnon may be this country’s best-known living anthropologist; he is certainly its most maligned. His monograph, “Yanomamö: The Fierce People,” which has sold nearly a million copies since it was first published in 1968, established him as a serious scientist in the swashbuckling mode — “I looked up and gasped when I saw a dozen burly, naked, filthy, hideous men staring at us down the shafts of their drawn arrows!” — but it also embroiled him in controversy.

In turning the Yanomami into the world’s most famous “unacculturated” tribe, Chagnon also turned the romantic image of the “noble savage” on its head. Far from living in harmony with one another, the tribe engaged in frequent chest-pounding duels and deadly inter-village raids; violence or threat of violence dominated social life. The Yanomami, he declared, “live in a state of chronic warfare.”

The phrase may be the most contested in the history of anthropology. Colleagues accused him of exaggerating the violence, even of imagining it — a projection of his aggressive personality. As Chagnon’s fame grew — his book became a standard text in college courses — so did the complaints. No detail was too small to be debated, including the transliteration of the tribe’s name. As one commentator wrote: “Those who refer to the group as Yanomamö generally tend to be supporters of Chagnon’s work. Those who prefer Yanomami or Yanomama tend to take a more neutral or anti-Chagnon stance.”

In 2000, the simmering criticisms erupted in public with the release of “Darkness in El Dorado,” by the journalist Patrick Tierney. A true-life jungle horror story redolent with allusions to Conrad, the book charged Chagnon with grave misdeeds: not just fomenting violence but also fabricating data, staging documentary films and, most sensational, participating in a biomedical expedition that may have caused or worsened a measles epidemic that resulted in hundreds of Yanomami deaths. Advance word of the book was enough to plunge anthropology into a global public-relations crisis — a typical headline: “Scientist ‘Killed Amazon Indians to Test Race Theory.’ ” But even today, after thousands of pages of discussion, including a lengthy investigation by the American Anthropological Association (A.A.A.), there is no consensus about what, if anything, Chagnon did wrong.

Shut out of the jungle because he was so polarizing, he took early retirement from the University of California at Santa Barbara in 1999. “The whole point of my existence as a human being and as an anthropologist was to do more and more research before this primitive world disappeared,” he told me bitterly. He spent much of the past decade working on a memoir instead, “Noble Savages: My Life Among Two Dangerous Tribes — the Yanomamö and the Anthropologists,” which comes out this month. It is less likely to settle the score than to reignite debate. “The subtitle is typical Chagnon,” says Leslie Sponsel, an anthropologist at the University of Hawaii and a longtime critic of Chagnon. “Some will interpret it as an insult to the Yanomami and to anthropology in general.” Sponsel despaired that what is known as “the fierce controversy” would ever be satisfactorily resolved. “It’s quicksand, a Pandora’s box,” he said. “It’s also to some degree a microcosm of anthropology.”

When Chagnon first went into the jungle, in 1964, the public image of anthropology was at its peak. Claude Lévi-Strauss’s “Tristes Tropiques,” his magisterial memoir of his years studying tribes in Brazil, had recently been translated into English, prompting Susan Sontag to declare anthropology “one of the rare intellectual vocations that do not demand a sacrifice of one’s manhood. Courage, love of adventure and physical hardiness — as well as brains — are used by it.” “Dead Birds” (1963), Robert Gardner’s depiction of ritual warfare among the Dani people of New Guinea, was greeted as a landmark of ethnographic filmmaking. In the “Stone Age” culture of the Dani, anthropologists believed they had a snapshot of human development at a crucial early stage, and rumors of other “uncontacted” tribes fueled fantasies of genuine discovery. Membership in the A.A.A. doubled between 1960, when Margaret Mead, the field’s pre-eminent authority, served a term as president, and 1968.

Chagnon was well cast for life in the field. A 26-year-old graduate student at the University of Michigan, he grew up poor in rural Port Austin, Mich., the second of 12 children. He was self-sufficient and handy with a shotgun — minimum requirements for surviving on jungle terrain where the nearest airstrip was several hours downstream by motorized canoe. “It’s the harshest environment in the world, physically speaking,” Kenneth Good, an anthropologist at New Jersey City University, who accompanied Chagnon to Venezuela in 1975 and eventually married a teenage Yanomami woman, told me. “I nearly died of malaria several times.”

Today, Chagnon’s own health is fragile. He had open-heart surgery in 2006 — “a likely consequence of the attacks on me,” he says — and suffers from a lung condition that keeps him tethered to a portable oxygen tank much of the time. Still, when I met him in January, at his home in a wooded subdivision near the University of Missouri in Columbia, where he and his wife, Carlene, had just moved so that he could take up a new position in the anthropology department, he had half a dozen pheasants in his freezer, quarry from a recent hunting expedition with his German shorthaired pointer, Darwin. “Pheasant breast on toast with butter is one of the more delicious breakfasts I’ve ever eaten,” he said solemnly.

In his baseball cap and faded jeans, with a thermos of Heineken at his side, he seemed a pointed rebuke to Ivory Tower decorum. The house, a cavernous brick two-story, was only partly furnished — the Chagnons had lived there all of 10 days. But elegantly arrayed along a ledge above the mantel were a couple dozen woven baskets, like so many households around the rim of a shabono — the vine-and-leaf structure that encloses an entire Yanomami village.

Chagnon’s account of his first encounter with the tribe is legendary: he crept through the low entrance of a shabono, startling a group of Yanomami warriors — the dozen “filthy, hideous men” — who had just concluded a bloody club fight with a neighboring village over the abduction of seven women. “Immense wads of green tobacco were stuck between their lower teeth and lips making them look even more hideous,” Chagnon wrote, “and strands of dark-green slime dripped or hung from their noses.” (The green snot was a side effect of ebene, a hallucinogen that the Yanomami blow into one another’s nostrils.)

By the end of that first day, Chagnon knew he needed to rethink what he had been taught. Apart from a handful of reports by missionaries and European ethnographers, little was known about the Yanomami, who were scattered among several hundred shabonosacross roughly 70,000 square miles on the Venezuelan-Brazilian border. According to the reigning “cultural materialist” doctrine — which owed as much to Marx as to the noble-savage ideal — conflict among groups arose only when there was competition for strategic resources: food, tools, land. The Yanomami in Bisaasi-teri, the shabono that Chagnon had entered, appeared not to be lacking these things. They shouldn’t have been fighting with their neighbors, and certainly not over women — that kind of reproductive competition, cultural materialists claimed, had nothing to do with warfare. During Chagnon’s initial 17 months in the field, one nearby village was raided 25 times. “I began realizing that my training in Michigan was not all that it was supposed to be,” he said.

He spent his first few months trying to learn the villagers’ names and kinship ties, a standard practice at the time and a particular challenge in this case, given the Yanomami’s name taboos: to call someone by his name is often an insult, and the names of the dead aren’t supposed to be uttered at all. Chagnon rewarded informants with fish hooks, matches and, for men who really dished, knives and machetes. (The Yanomami made no metal tools themselves.) Then, on a visit to another village, Chagnon cautiously mentioned the names of the Bisaasi-teri headman and his wife. The residents burst out laughing. He realized that he’d been had: the names he’d been given were slang for genitalia.

Genealogies became Chagnon’s driving obsession. They were crucial for tracing patterns of reproduction — determining which men had the most offspring or how many had wives from other villages. By the end of his last trip to the jungle, in 1995, Chagnon had data on about 4,000 Yanomami, in some cases going back to the 19th century. “That’s what he lives for,” Raymond Hames, an anthropologist at the University of Nebraska who worked with Chagnon as a graduate student, told me. “To collect the data, update the data, crosscheck it. He’s incredibly meticulous.”

Genealogies could also be useful for understanding genetic variations within social groups — then a new avenue of research. Before leaving Ann Arbor, Chagnon met with James V. Neel, a prominent geneticist at the university’s medical school, to propose a collaboration. Neel was best known for his genetic studies of survivors of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings. But he was interested in indigenous populations, in part because, having never been exposed to atomic radiation, they could provide a base line for comparison. After taking samples of the Yanomani’s blood, Neel discovered that the tribe’s levels of heavy metals and other environmental toxins were similar to Westerners’. They also lacked immunity to measles. In 1968, Chagnon helped Neel’s team vaccinate 1,000 Yanomami against the disease, just as it broke out near Bisaasi-teri.

Chagnon believed that biology was essential to understanding the tribe’s warfare over women. After all, more women meant more opportunities to pass on genes through reproduction — a basic tenet of evolutionary thought. But biology had no place in the cultural-materialist paradigm. And explanations of human behavior that relied on evolutionary theory were typically met with suspicion in anthropological circles, a legacy of the American eugenics movement, which invoked Darwinian ideas to justify racist efforts to “improve” the gene pool. “The last bastions of resistance to evolutionary theory,” Chagnon told me, “are organized religion and cultural anthropology.”

Marvin Harris, the leading cultural materialist and a professor at Columbia, was adamant that the Yanomami could not be fighting over women, and in 1975, he threw down a gauntlet. One of Harris’s former students, Daniel Gross, had just published a paper arguing that a scarcity of animal protein led to conditions that favored violence among Amazonian tribes, a theory Harris enthusiastically adopted. Chagnon, who had taken a job at Penn State, and three graduate students met with Harris in New York, on their way to Venezuela. “Harris said, ‘If you can show me that the Yanomami get the protein equivalent of one Big Mac per day, I’ll eat my hat,’ ” recalled Chagnon, who accepted the challenge.

By then Chagnon was waging battles on several fronts. That year, the Harvard biologist Edward O. Wilson published “Sociobiology,” to the dismay of many anthropologists, who were appalled by what they perceived as Wilson’s attempt to reduce human social behavior to an effect of genes. But Chagnon was excited by Wilson’s ideas, and in 1976 he and a colleague arranged for two sessions on sociobiology to take place at the annual A.A.A. convention. The evening before the sessions, several scholars moved to prohibit them. “Impassioned accusations of racism, fascism and Nazism punctuated the frenzied business meeting that night,” Chagnon writes in “Noble Savages.” Only after Margaret Mead denounced the motion as a “book burning” was it defeated.

At the same time, Chagnon’s portrayal of Yanomami aggression was meeting with increasing resistance. One theory had it that his habit of rewarding cooperative subjects with steel tools — common practice at the time — worsened conflicts. Jacques Lizot, a French anthropologist who spent more than 15 years in a village near Bisaasi-teri, wrote that he hoped to “revise the exaggerated representation that has been given of Yanomami violence. The Yanomami are warriors; they can be brutal and cruel, but they can also be delicate, sensitive and loving.” These latter traits also appeared, though less prominently, in Chagnon’s work. In “The Fierce People,” he recounts the night he became “emotionally close to the Yanomamö for the first time.” A village headman had been killed in a raid, and his brothers were audibly mourning his death. Moved, Chagnon lay quietly in his hammock, not wanting to intrude with his tape recorder or notebook. When asked why he was not “making a nuisance of himself as usual,” Chagnon explained that he was sad. This news was quickly passed around, and for the rest of the night he was treated with great deference: “I was hushuo, in a state of emotional disequilibrium, and had finally begun to act like a human being as far as they were concerned.”

What could have been fruitful academic debates became personal and nasty. It didn’t help that Chagnon could be arrogant and impolitic. “Oh, God, did we have some fights in the field,” says Raymond Hames, who accompanied him on the 1975 protein-challenge trip. “He’s pretty damn sure of himself.” Hames, who remains a close friend, says he and Chagnon “made it work out.” But this was not the case with others.

Kenneth Good was also on the trip and was delegated to study protein consumption at a village far upstream from Bisaasi-teri. Chagnon, he says, refused to give him a steel boat or replenish his anti-malaria pills and didn’t care that he capsized and was stranded without food for three days. “If he had behaved in a civil way, we could have been lifelong allies,” Good told me. (Chagnon says that Good’s demands were unreasonable: “He wasn’t civil to me from the very beginning. I took him into the most exciting field opportunity that existed in anthropology at the time, and he never even sent me a progress report.”)

After Good returned to the United States, he left Chagnon’s department and finished his dissertation with Harris. When the protein studies were finally published, the findings, perhaps unsurprisingly, were split: Good showed that the Yanomami in his village ate slightly less protein than what’s in a Big Mac; Chagnon and Hames showed that their group ate much more. Daniel Gross, who recently retired from the World Bank, says the debate remains unresolved. He pointed out that the Yanomami are about five feet tall, on average. “You have to wonder what accounts for their low stature,” he said. “It’s most likely not a genetic trait.”

Chagnon also fell out with Lizot, the French anthropologist, and with Timothy Asch, an ethnographic filmmaker with whom he collaborated on more than a dozen documentaries. The partnership yielded ingenious work, including “A Man Called ‘Bee’ ” (1974), in which the camera turns, for once, on the ethnographer. Chagnon strides into the middle of a shabono in a loincloth and faded high tops and strikes a warrior pose — a bearded Tarzan aping his subjects, to their audible delight. (The film’s title comes from Chagnon’s Yanomami nickname, “Shaki,” their word for a particularly pesky species of bee.) But by 1975, with the release of “The Ax Fight,” a prizewinning record of a Yanomami brawl, Chagnon and Asch’s own fighting, mostly over who should get top billing in the credits, had destroyed their relationship.

Nor did Chagnon manage to stay on good terms with the local Salesian priests, who, thanks to their influence in Caracas, had considerable say over which scientists got to work with the tribe. In 1993, Chagnon attacked the Salesians in an Op-Ed in The New York Times, charging that the Yanomami were using mission-issued guns to kill one another. The Salesians fought back, depositing anti-Chagnon leaflets at the annual A.A.A. convention and mailing packets of letters — including one from Lizot — to anthropology departments across the country, denouncing his claims.

Chagnon sensed that his access to the Yanomami was ending. Anthropology was changing, too. For more than a decade, the discipline had been engaged in a sweeping self-critique. In 1983, the New Zealand anthropologist Derek Freeman delivered a major blow when he published “Margaret Mead and Samoa,” charging that Mead had been duped by informants in her pioneering ethnography, “Coming of Age in Samoa.” Postmodern theory precipitated a crisis. Under the influence of Derrida and Foucault, cultural anthropologists turned their gaze on their own “texts” and were alarmed by what they saw. Ethnographies were not dispassionate records of cultural facts but rather unstable “fictions,” shot through with ideology and observer bias.

This postmodern turn coincided with the disappearance of anthropology’s traditional subjects — indigenous peoples. Even the Yanomami were becoming assimilated, going to mission schools, appearing on television in Caracas and flying to the United States to speak at academic conferences. Traditional fieldwork opportunities may have been drying up, but there was still plenty of work to do exposing anthropologists’ complicity in oppressing “the other.” As one scholar in the journal Current Anthropology put it, “Isn’t it odd that the true enemy of society turns out to be that guy in the office down the hall?”

One way to confront the field’s ethical dilemmas was to redefine the ethnographer’s role. A new generation of anthropologists came to see activism on their subjects’ behalf as a principal part of the job. Chagnon did not; to him, the Yanomami were invaluable data sets, not a human rights cause — at least not primarily. In 1988, he published a provocative article in Science. Drawing on his genealogies, he showed that Yanomami men who were killers had more wives and children than men who were not. Was the men’s aggression the main reason for their greater reproductive success? Chagnon suggested that the question deserved serious consideration. “Violence,” he speculated, “may be the principal driving force behind the evolution of culture.”

The article was seized on by the press, including two newspapers in Brazil, where illegal gold miners had begun invading Yanomami lands. The Brazilian Anthropological Association warned that Chagnon’s “dubious scientific conclusions” could have terrible political consequences: “Wide publicity about Yanomami ‘violence’ in racist terms . . . is being used by the powerful lobby of mining interests as an excuse for the invasion of these Indians’ lands.”

As Alcida Ramos, a Yanomami expert at the University of Brasilia, later explained to Science: “To do anthropology in Brazil is in itself a political act. We don’t separate our interests as anthropologists from our responsibility as citizens.” Her colleague Bruce Albert told Science that a plan by the Brazilian government to divide the tribe’s land into a series of disconnected “islands” was being justified by claims that, as the reporter put it, the Yanomami “are violent and need to be kept separate so they will stop killing each other.” Nevertheless, the reporter noted, Albert “cannot demonstrate a direct connection between Chagnon’s writings and the government’s Indian policy.”

Scientists have since endorsed Chagnon’s Science article. “It shouldn’t be a shocking finding,” Steven Pinker, the Harvard evolutionary psychologist who cites the paper in his book, “The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined,” told me. “As a pattern in history, it’s well documented.” Pinker said that he was troubled by the notion that social scientists should suppress unflattering information about their subjects because it could be exploited by others. “This whole tactic is a terrible mistake: always putting your moral action in jeopardy of empirical findings,” he told me. “Once you have the equation that the Yanomami are nonviolent and deserve to be protected, the converse is that if they are violent they don’t deserve to be protected.”

Chagnon had alienated most of the anthropologists in Venezuela and Brazil who might have helped broker his visits to the tribe. In 1990, desperate to return to the jungle, he accepted an invitation from an old contact, Charles Brewer-Carías, to serve as an adviser to Fundafaci, a Venezuelan foundation established by Cecilia Matos, the consort of President Carlos Andrés Pérez, to help the country’s poor. The association proved disastrous for Chagnon. Brewer-Carías, a well-connected dentist and former Venezuelan youth minister, had been accused of illegally mining for gold on Yanomami land. (Brewer-Carías has denied the allegations.) “He’s a dapper opportunist,” Chagnon told me. “Charlie can talk his way into and out of just about everything.”

For months, Fundafaci helicopters flew in and out of some of the most pristine Yanomami settlements, ferrying researchers, television crews and the occasional wealthy tourist — as well as, inevitably, their germs. According to Patrick Tierney, during one helicopter landing, several Yanomami were injured when the roof of a shabono collapsed. Chagnon and Brewer-Carías also urged President Pérez to turn part of the region into a biosphere, which, Tierney writes, would have given them “a scientific monopoly over an area the size of Connecticut.” The A.A.A., which appointed an El Dorado task force to look into Tierney’s allegations, concluded that this charge could not be proved, since Pérez abandoned the Fundafaci proposal. But the task force was harshly critical of Chagnon, stating that his affiliation with Fundafaci “violated Venezuelan laws, associated his research with the activities of corrupt politicians and involved him in activities that endangered the health and well-being of the Yanomami.”

The adventure came to an end in 1993, when Pérez was impeached. Chagnon, characteristically, is unrepentant. “I got a year’s worth of data,” he said. “It was worth it for that reason.”

Was Fundafaci an isolated case of bad judgment, or part of a pattern of ethically egregious behavior? Tierney’s “Darkness in El Dorado,” which he spent more than a decade reporting, took the latter view and was eagerly anticipated by Chagnon’s critics: the moment when a rogue anthropologist would get a rare public comeuppance. In August 2000, while the book was still in galleys, Leslie Sponsel, of the University of Hawaii, and Terence Turner, an anthropologist at Cornell, sent an e-mail to the A.A.A.’s leadership, warning of an “impending scandal,” unparalleled in its “scale, ramifications and sheer criminality and corruption.” In lurid detail, they laid out the book’s major allegations, concluding: “This nightmarish story — a real anthropological heart of darkness beyond the imagining of even a Josef [sic] Conrad (though not, perhaps, a Josef Mengele) — will be seen (rightly in our view) by the public, as well as most anthropologists, as putting the whole discipline on trial.”

By November, when the A.A.A. met for its annual meeting, the scandal had hit the press, and “Darkness in El Dorado” had been excerpted in The New Yorker and named a finalist for the National Book Award. Much of the coverage focused on Tierney’s most sensational charges regarding the 1968 measles epidemic.

In his galleys, Tierney speculated that Neel, who died in 2000, hoped to simulate a measles epidemic among the Yanomami as part of a genetics experiment. In the published book, this theory was no longer explicit — Tierney had made last-minute changes — but it was insinuated. “Measles,” Tierney wrote, “was tailor-made for experiments.” Moreover, Neel’s choice of vaccine, Edmonston B, “was a bold decision from a research perspective” because it “provided a model much closer to real measles than other, safer vaccines, in the attempt to resolve the great genetic question of selective adaptation.” Although he quoted a leading measles researcher emphatically denying that measles vaccine can transmit the virus, he nevertheless maintained that it was “unclear whether the Edmonston B became transmissible or not.” (This line was excised from the paperback edition.) Tierney repeatedly faulted the expedition’s members for putting their scientific objectives ahead of the tribe’s health. By vaccinating the Yanomami against measles, he maintained, Neel and Chagnon may have been responsible for needless illness and death.

At an open-mike A.A.A. session, attendees, few of whom had read the book, weighed in on the controversy. Thomas Gregor and Daniel Gross later described the event in a damning article in American Anthropologist: “Virtually every aspect of [Chagnon’s] behavior, relevant or otherwise, was open for public dissection. One participant took the microphone and claimed that Chagnon had treated her rudely in the field during the 1960s. A colleague from Uganda praised Tierney’s book and suggested that Westerners manufactured the Ebola virus and disseminated it in his country, just as Chagnon and Neel had started the measles epidemic. Members of the audience applauded both speakers.” For Gregor, who recently retired as an anthropologist at Vanderbilt, the session was “a watershed moment.” “These are people who are supposed to be scientists,” he told me. “This had the look of an emotionally charged witch hunt.”

Within a few months, half a dozen academic institutions had refuted aspects of Tierney’s claims, including the International Genetic Epidemiology Society, whose statement reflected a growing consensus: “Far from causing an epidemic of measles, Neel did his utmost to protect the Yanomamö from the ravages of the impending epidemic by a vaccination program using a vaccine that was widely used at the time and administered in an appropriate manner.” (In an e-mail to me, Tierney defended his book, acknowledging only “several small errors,” concerning Neel’s work in Japan.)

The A.A.A.’s El Dorado task force was the most ambitious investigation to date but was undermined by a lack of due process. The group went so far as to interview Yanomami in Venezuela but, according to Chagnon, failed to give him an opportunity to respond to its verdicts. As Gregor and Gross put it, what the inquiry most clearly demonstrated was not Chagnon’s guilt or innocence but rather anthropology’s “culture of accusation,” a “tendency within the discipline to attack its own methods and practitioners.”

At least one task-force member had doubts about the exercise. In April 2002, shortly before the group released its report, Jane Hill, the task force’s chairwoman and a former president of the A.A.A. wrote an e-mail to a colleague in which she called Tierney’s book “just a piece of sleaze, that’s all there is to it (some cosmetic language will be used in the report, but we all agree on that).” Nevertheless, she said, the A.A.A. had to act: anthropologists’ work with indigenous groups in Latin America “was put seriously at risk by its accusations,” and “silence on the part of the A.A.A would have been interpreted as either assent or cowardice. Whether we’re doing the right thing will have to be judged by posterity.”

The e-mail is quoted in a paper by Alice Dreger that appeared in the journal Human Nature in 2011. Dreger, a professor of bioethics at Northwestern, was writing a book about scientific controversies in the Internet age, when she learned about the scandal in anthropology. She researched the case for a year, conducting 40 interviews, and by the time she published her paper, she considered Chagnon a friend, a fact reflected in her sometimes zealous tone. Among other things, she discovered that Tierney helped prepare a dossier critical of Chagnon, which he attributed to Leda Martins, a Brazilian anthropologist: “Leda’s dossier was an important resource for my research.” (Martins says that she translated the dossier into Portuguese.) But Dreger reserves her most withering remarks for the A.A.A. She told me, “All these people knew that Tierney’s book was a house of cards but proceeded anyway because they needed a ritualistic cleansing.”

In fairness, Tierney seems to have gotten some things right. The task force called his account of Chagnon’s Fundafaci episode one of the “better supported allegations.” And many have vouched for Tierney’s description of Jacques Lizot, Chagnon’s French rival, ensconced in the jungle with an entourage of Yanomami boys, whom he plied with trade goods in exchange for sex. (Lizot has said that the sex was between consenting adults.)

Yet it’s possible to imagine how a discipline seeking to expiate its sins could have overreached in Chagnon’s case. He was prominent and controversial, a sociobiologist who declined to put activism on a par with research. On the rare occasions that he adopted the mantle of advocate, the gesture typically backfired, as when he told a Brazilian magazine: “The real Indians get dirty, smell bad, use drugs, belch after they eat, covet and sometimes steal each other’s women, fornicate and make war. They are normal human beings. This is reason enough for them to deserve care and attention.” His critics, appalled by the first sentence, typically ignored the rest.

In this charged atmosphere, Tierney was to play a vital role: that of the impartial journalist who would give the discipline’s verdict on Chagnon the stamp of objectivity. Yet as Tierney himself admitted, he was not impartial. “I gradually changed from being an observer to being an advocate,” he wrote. “It was a completely inverted world, where traditional, objective journalism was no longer an option for me.” Was objectivity possible for anyone?

In 2005, the A.A.A.’s members agreed to rescind the task-force report, by a vote of 846 to 338. Daniel Gross called Chagnon to give him the news. “I saved that phone message for years,” Chagnon told me. “That was the point at which my emotional stability began to ascend.” Last spring, he was elected to the National Academy of Sciences — a prestigious honor that he took as vindication. “A lot of anthropologists have red faces from the extent to which they advocated in support of the accusations against me,” he said.

Not every critic has conceded. “The charges have not all been disproven by any means,” Leslie Sponsel pointed out. Leda Martins, who teaches at Pitzer College in Los Angeles, was more circumspect. “The controversy is so big, and the devil is all in the details,” she said. “Unless you know where Chagnon was, in what village, and what he was doing — unless you know everything — it’s really hard to talk about it.” I told her I thought that Tierney was sure he’d found another Kurtz, another “Heart of Darkness.” “Patrick and Chagnon have some similar characteristics,” Martins replied. “How ironic is it that Patrick got carried away in the same way that Chagnon got carried away?”

By now, at least a few Yanomami have read both “The Fierce People” and “Darkness in El Dorado,” and many more have been told about their contents by people with varied agendas. During an interview with a member of the A.A.A.’s task force, Davi Kopenawa, a Brazilian Yanomami leader, was invited to pose some questions of his own. “I want to ask you about these American anthropologists,” he said. “Why are they fighting among themselves? Is it because of this book?”

The interviewer answered in the affirmative, and Kopenawa went on: “So, Chagnon made money using the name of the Yanomami. He sold his book. Lizot, too. I want to know how much they are making each month. How much does any anthropologist earn? And how much is Patrick making? Patrick must be happy. This is a lot of money. They may be fighting, but they are happy. They fight, and this makes them happy.”

Emily Eakin has written for The New Yorker and The New York Review of Books blog. Her last article for the magazine was on Jonathan Franzen.

Editor: Sheila Glaser

O futuro dos índios: entrevista com Manuela Carneiro da Cunha (O Globo)

16.02.2013 – Blog Prosa

Por Guilherme Freitas

Muitas vezes vistos como “atrasados” ou como entraves à expansão econômica, os povos indígenas apontam, com seus saberes e seu modo de se relacionar com o meio ambiente, um caminho alternativo para o Brasil, diz a antropóloga Manuela Carneiro da Cunha, que lança coletânea de ensaios sobre o tema. Em “Índios no Brasil: História, direitos e cidadania” (Companhia das Letras), ela reúne trabalhos das últimas três décadas sobre temas como a demarcação de terras e as mudanças na Constituição. Nesta entrevista, a professora da Universidade de Chicago, convidada pelo governo federal para desenvolver um estudo sobre a relação entre os saberes tradicionais e as ciências, critica o ‘desenvolvimentismo acelerado’ da gestão Dilma e defende ‘um novo pacto’ da sociedade com as populações indígenas.

“Índios no Brasil” é uma compilação de textos publicados desde o início da década de 1980. Ao longo desse período, quais foram as principais mudanças no debate público brasileiro sobre as populações indígenas?

Eu colocaria como marco inicial o ano de 1978, ano em que, em plena ditadura, houve uma mobilização sem precedentes em favor dos direitos dos índios. Na época, o Ministro do Interior, a pretexto de emancipar índios de qualquer tutela, queria “emancipar” as terras indígenas e colocá-las no mercado. O verdadeiro debate centrava-se no direito dos índios às suas terras, um princípio que vigorou desde a Colônia. Nesse direito não se mexia. Mas desde a Lei das Terras de 1850 pelo menos, o expediente foi o mesmo: afirmava-se que os índios estavam “confundidos com a massa da população” e distribuía-se suas terras. Em 1978, tentou-se repetir essa mistificação. A sociedade civil, na época impedida de se manifestar em assuntos políticos, desaguou seu protesto na causa indígena. Acho que o avanço muito significativo das demarcações desde essa época teve um impulso decisivo nessa mobilização popular. Outro marco foi a Assembleia Constituinte, dez anos mais tarde. O direito às terras tendo sido novamente proclamado e especificado, o debate transferiu-se para o que se podia e não se podia fazer nas terras indígenas, e dois temas dominaram esse debate: mineração e hidrelétricas. Muito significativa foi a defesa feita pela Coordenação Nacional dos Geólogos de que não se minerasse em áreas indígenas, que deveriam ficar como uma reserva mineral para o país. Desde essa época, as mudanças radicais dos meios de comunicação disseminaram para um público muito amplo controvérsias como a que envolve por exemplo Belo Monte e hidrelétricas no Tapajós, e situações dramáticas como as dos awá no Maranhão ou dos kaiowá no Mato Grosso do Sul. Creio que a maior informação da sociedade civil mudou a qualidade dos debates. Um tema novo de debates surgiu com a Convenção da Biodiversidade, em 1992, o dos direitos intelectuais dos povos indígenas sobre seus conhecimentos. E finalmente, com a Convenção 169 da Organização Internacional do Trabalho (OIT), está se debatendo a forma de colocar em prática o direito dos povos indígenas a serem consultados sobre projetos que os afetam.

Você observa que a população indígena no país aumentou de 250 mil pessoas, em 1993, para 897 mil, segundo o Censo de 2010. A que pode ser atribuído esse aumento? As políticas de demarcação de terras e promoção dos direitos indígenas têm correspondido a ele?

O grande aumento da população indígena se deu no período de 1991 a 2000. Entre 2000 e 2010, o aumento foi proporcionalmente menor do que na população em geral. Só uma parcela desse crescimento pode ser atribuído a uma melhora na mortalidade infantil e na fertilidade. O que realmente mudou é que ser índio deixou de ser uma identidade da qual se tem vergonha. Índios que moram nas cidades, em Manaus por exemplo, passaram a se declarar como tais. E comunidades indígenas, sobretudo no Nordeste, reemergiram. Mas, contrariamente ao que se pode imaginar (e se tenta fazer crer), essas etnias reemergentes não têm reclamos de terras de áreas significativas.

Como avalia a atuação do governo da presidente Dilma Rousseff em relação às populações indígenas, diante das críticas provocadas pela Portaria 303 (que limitaria o usufruto das terras indígenas demarcadas) e o novo Código Florestal, por exemplo?

O Executivo tem várias faces: seu programa de redistribuição de renda está sendo um sucesso; mas seu desenvolvimentismo acelerado atropela outros valores básicos. Além disso, o agronegócio só tem aumentado seu poder político, o que desembocou no decepcionante resultado do aggiornamento do Código Florestal em 2012. O governo tentou se colocar como árbitro, mas ficou refém de um setor particularmente míope do agronegócio, aquele que não mede as consequências do desmatamento e da destruição dos rios. A Sociedade Brasileira para o Progresso da Ciência e a Academia Brasileira de Ciências, em vários estudos enviados ao Congresso e publicados, apresentaram as conclusões e recomendações dos cientistas. Foram ignoradas. Agora acaba de sair um estudo do Imazon (Instituto do Homem e Meio Ambiente da Amazônia) que reitera e quantifica uma das recomendações centrais desses estudos. Para atender à demanda crescente de alimentos, a solução não é ocupar novas terras, e sim aumentar a produtividade, particularmente na pecuária, responsável pela ocupação de novos desmatamentos. O governo tem um papel fundamental a desempenhar: cabe a ele estabelecer segurança, regularizando o caos que hoje reina na titulação das terras no Brasil. Basta ver que, como se noticiou há dias, as terras tituladas no Brasil ultrapassam as terras que realmente existem em área equivalente a mais de dois estados de São Paulo. Um cadastro confiável é perfeitamente possível, é preciso vontade política para alcançá-lo. Você perguntou especificamente pela Portaria 303/2012, da Advocacia Geral da União, que pretende abusivamente estender a todas as situações de terras indígenas as restrições decididas pelo STF para o caso complicadíssimo de Raposa Serra do Sol em Roraima. Ela é mais um sintoma de tendências contraditórias dentro do Executivo, que, por um lado, conseguiu “desintrusar” pacificamente uma área xavante, mas, por outro lado, admite uma portaria como essa. Ela é um absurdo, e não é à toa que foi colocada em banho-maria pelo governo. Foi suspensa, mas não cancelada… A própria Associação Nacional dos Advogados da União pediu em setembro sua revogação e caracterizou sua orientação como “flagrantemente inconstitucional”. Essa portaria também fere pelo menos quatro artigos da Convenção 169 da OIT, da qual o Brasil é signatário.

Em um ensaio da década de 1990, você já falava sobre a disputa por recursos minerais e hídricos em áreas indígenas. Acredita que essas disputas estão mais acirradas hoje?

Já na Constituinte, em 1988, esses dois temas foram centrais. Chegou-se a um compromisso, que estipulava condições para acesso a esses recursos: ouvir as comunidades afetadas e autorização do Congresso Nacional (artigo 231 parágrafo 3). A disputa não mudou, mas o ambiente político atual favorece uma nova ofensiva da parte dos que nunca se conformaram. E assim surgem novas investidas no Congresso: projetos de lei para usurpar do Executivo a responsabilidade da demarcação das terras e para abrir as áreas indígenas à mineração. Por sua vez, Belo Monte foi enfiado goela abaixo de modo autoritário: o Executivo atropelou a consulta prévia, livre e informada a que os índios têm direito, e não foram cumpridas condicionantes essenciais acordadas, por exemplo no tocante ao atendimento à saúde indígena.

No ensaio sobre a política indigenista do século XIX, você mostra como naquele momento se consolidou uma visão dos índios como povos “primitivos” que teriam por destino serem incorporados ao “progresso” ocidental. Até que ponto essa ideia persiste hoje?

Essa visão está cada vez mais obsoleta: a noção triunfalista de um progresso medido por indicadores como o PIB é hoje seriamente criticada. Valores como sustentabilidade ambiental, justiça social, desenvolvimento humano e diversidade são parte agora do modo de avaliar o verdadeiro progresso de um país. Por outra parte, no século XIX, positivistas e evolucionistas sociais puseram em voga a ideia de uma marcha inexorável da História: qualquer que fosse a política, os índios estariam fadados ao desaparecimento, quando não simplesmente físico, pelo menos social. Essa também é uma falácia que a História ela própria desmistificou: os índios, felizmente, estão aqui para ficar. A História não se faz por si, são pessoas que fazem a História, e seus atos têm consequências. Usa esse entulho ideológico quem carece de argumentos.

No ensaio “O futuro da questão indígena”, você defende a necessidade de “um novo pacto com as populações indígenas” e aponta a “sociodiversidade” como “condição de sobrevivência” para o mundo. Como define “sociodiversidade”, e o que seria esse “novo pacto”?

O Brasil não é só megadiverso pela sua grande diversidade de espécies, ele também é megadiverso pelas sociedades distintas que abriga. Segundo o censo do IBGE de 2010, há 305 etnias indígenas no Brasil, que falam 274 línguas. Essa sociodiversidade é, segundo Lévi-Strauss, um capital inestimável de imaginação sociológica e uma fonte de conhecimento. Um mundo sem diversidade é um mundo morto. E quanto ao pacto com as populações indígenas que evoco, trata-se do seguinte: os índios que conservaram a floresta e a biodiversidade até agora (basta ver como o Parque Nacional do Xingu é uma ilha verde num mar de devastação) estão sujeitos a grandes pressões de madeireiras e de vários outros agentes econômicos. Nada garante, se as condições não mudarem, que possam continuar nesse rumo. Para o Brasil, que precisa com urgência de um programa de conservação da floresta em pé, um pacto com as populações indígenas para esse fim seria essencial.

Na Rio+20, você participou de um painel sobre as contribuições dos saberes indígenas para as ciências. O que pode ser feito para possibilitar esse diálogo?

O conhecimento das diversas sociedades indígenas pode continuar a trazer contribuições da maior relevância para temas como previsão e adaptação a mudanças climáticas, conservação da biodiversidade, ecologia, substâncias com atividade biológica, substâncias com possíveis usos industriais e muitos outros. Isso já está reconhecido e posto em prática no âmbito da Convenção pela Diversidade Biológica e no Painel do Clima, por exemplo. Poder-se-ia pensar que bastaria recolher essas informações e usá-las na nossa ciência quando úteis. Mas há outra dimensão importante desses saberes, que é seu modo específico de produzir conhecimento. Essa diversidade nos permite pensar diferentemente, sair dos limites de nossos axiomas. Não se trata, como fazem certos movimentos new age, de atribuir um valor superior aos conhecimentos tradicionais; não se trata de aderir a eles. Tampouco se trata de assimilá-los e diluí-los na ciência acadêmica. A importância de modos de conhecimento diferentes é nos fazer perceber que se pode pensar de outro modo. Foi abandonando um único postulado de Euclides que Lobatchevski e Bolayi viram de modo inteiramente novo a geometria. Por isso o diálogo dos diferentes sistemas de conhecimentos entre si e com a ciência deve preservar a autonomia de cada qual. O Ministério da Ciência, Tecnologia e Inovação, via CNPq, encomendou-me um estudo para lançar as bases de um novo diálogo entre ciência e sistemas de conhecimentos tradicionais. Não é simples. Mas desde já sabemos que isso implicará formas institucionais que empoderem os vários parceiros. Um projeto-piloto que está sendo planejado nesse contexto responde a uma das diretrizes da FAO (Organização das Nações Unidas para Agricultura e Alimentação) que faz parte do Tratado sobre Recursos Fitogenéticos. Trata-se da conservação da diversidade agrícola de cultivares de mandioca, sob a condução de populações indígenas do Rio Negro. A escolha não é por acaso. As agricultoras do médio e do alto Rio Negro conseguiram manter, criar e acumular centenas de variedades de mandioca.

Como interpreta mobilizações populares recentes em torno de causas indígenas, como aconteceu em favor dos guarani kaiowá?

Acho salutares essas mobilizações que, como já disse, são fruto de uma nova era na informação. Diante do recuo político nas questões ambiental, indígena e quilombola, há vozes que se levantam com indignação. A situação trágica dos guarani kaiowá, pontuada por suicídios de jovens, é emblemática do absurdo que seria a aplicação da Portaria 303/2012. Uma ampliação mais do que justa de suas terras — já que as que lhes garantiram não correspondem ao que determina o artigo 231 da Constituição — levaria a colocar em risco as poucas terras que têm. Os suicídios kaiowá atingem cada um de nós: somos todos kaiowá.

Criminalizing Dissent and Punishing Occupy Protesters: Introduction to Henry Giroux’s “Youth in Revolt” (Truth Out)

Thursday, 31 January 2013 06:22By Henry A GirouxTruthout | Book Excerpt

Military-style command and control systems are now be­ing established to support “zero tolerance” policing and urban surveillance practices designed to exclude failed consumers or undesirable persons from the new enclaves of urban consumption and leisure.

—Stephen Graham

Youth in Revolt.(Image: Paradigm Publishers)

Young people are demonstrating all over the world against a variety of issues ranging from economic injustice and massive inequality to drastic cuts in education and public services.1 In the fall of 2011, on the tenth anniversary of September 11, as the United States revisited the tragic loss and celebrated the courage displayed on that torturous day, another kind of commemoration took place. The Occupy movement shone out like flame in the darkness—a beacon of the irrepressible spirit of democracy and a humane desire for justice. Unfortunately, the peacefully organized protests across America have often been met with derogatory commentaries in the mainstream media and, increasingly, state-sanctioned violence. The war against society has become a war against youthful protesters and in­creasingly bears a striking resemblance to the violence waged against Occupy movement protesters and the violence associ­ated with the contemporary war zone.2 Missing from both the dominant media and state and national politics is an attempt to critically engage the issues the protesters are raising, not to mention any attempt to dialogue with them over their strate­gies, tactics, and political concerns. That many young people have become “a new class of stateless individuals … cast into a threatening and faceless mass whose identities collapse into the language of debt, survival, and disposability” appears to have escaped the attention of the mainstream media.3 Matters of justice, human dignity, and social responsibility have given way to a double gesture that seeks to undercut democratic public spheres through the criminalization of dissent while also resorting to crude and violent forms of punishment as the only mediating tools to use with young people who are at­tempting to open a new conversation about politics, inequality, and social justice.

In the United States, the state monopoly on the use of violence has intensified since the 1980s and in the process has been di­rected disproportionately against young people, poor minorities, immigrants, women, and the elderly. Guided by the notion that unregulated, market-driven values and relations should shape every domain of human life, a business model of governance has eviscerated any viable notion of social responsibility and conscience, thereby furthering the dismissal of social problems and expanding cutbacks in basic social services.4 The examples are endless, but one in particular stands out. In March 2012, Texas governor Rick Perry7joined eight other states in passing legislation to ban funding for clinics, including Planned Parent­hood facilities, affiliated with abortion services for women.5 As a result, the federal government has stopped funding the Texas Women’s Health Program. Unfortunately, this attempt by Perry to punish all women because of his antiabortion stance means that more than 130,000 women in Texas will not have access to vital services ranging from mammograms to health care for their children. There is more at work here than a resurgent war on women and their children or “an insane bout of mass misogyny.”8 There is also a deep-seated religious and political authoritarianism that has become one of the fundamental pil­lars of what I call a neoliberal culture of cruelty. As the welfare state is hollowed out. a culture of compassion is replaced by a culture of violence, cruelty, waste, and disposability.7Banks, hedge funds, and finance capital as the contemporary registers of class power have a new visibility, and their spokespersons are unabashedly blunt in supporting a corporate culture in which “ruthlessness is prized and money is the ultimate measure.”Collective insurance policies and social protections have given way to the forces of economic deregulation, the transformation of the welfare state into punitive workfare programs, the privatiza­tion of public goods, and an appeal to individual culpability as a substitute for civic responsibility. At the same time, violence—or what Anne-Marie Cusac calls “American punishment”—travels from our prisons and schools to various aspects of our daily lives, “becoming omnipresent … [from] the shows we watch on television, [to] the way many of us treat children [to] some influential religious practices.”9

David Harvey has argued that neoliberalism is “a political proj­ect to re-establish the conditions for capital accumulation and to restore the power of economic elites” through the implementation of “an institutional framework characterized by strong private property rights, free markets, and free trade.”10 Neoliberalism is also a pedagogical project designed to create particular subjects, desires, and values defined largely by market considerations. National destiny becomes linked to a market-driven logic in which freedom is stripped down to freedom from government regulation, freedom to consume, and freedom to say anything one wants, regardless of how racist or toxic the consequences might be. This neoliberal notion of freedom is abstracted from any sense of civic responsibility or social cost. In fact, “neoliberalism is grounded in the idea of the ‘free, possessive individual,’” with the state cast “as tyrannical and oppressive.”11 The welfare state, in particular, becomes the archenemy of freedom. As Stuart Hall points out, according to apostles of free-market fundamentalism, ‘The state must never govern society, dictate to free individuals how to dispose of their private property, regulate a free-market economy or interfere with the God-given right to make profits and amass personal wealth.”12

Paradoxically, neoliberalism severely proscribes any vestige of social and civic agency through the figure of the isolated automaton for whom choice is reduced to the practice of end­less shopping, fleeing from any sense of civic obligation, and safeguarding a radically individualized existence. Neoliberal governance translates into a state that attempts to substitute individual security for social welfare but in doing so offers only the protection of gated communities for the privileged and incarceration for those considered flawed consumers or threats to the mythic ideal of a white Christian nation. Neoliberalism refuses to recognize how private troubles are connected to broader systemic issues, legitimating instead an ode to self-reliance in which the experience of personal misfortune becomes merely the just desserts delivered by the righteous hand of the free market—not a pernicious outcome of the social order being hijacked by an antisocial ruling elite and forced to serve a narrow set of interests. Critical thought and human agency are rendered impotent as neoliberal rationality “substitutes emotional and personal vocabularies for political ones in formulating solutions to political problems.”13 Within such a depoliticized discourse, youths are told that there is no dream of the collective, no viable social bonds, only the ac­tions of autonomous individuals who must rely on their own resources and who bear sole responsibility for the effects of larger systemic political and economic problems.

Under the regime of neoliberalism, no claims are recognized that call for compassion, justice, and social responsibility. No claims are recognized that demand youths have a future better than the present, and no claims are recognized in which young people assert the need to narrate themselves as part of a broader struggle for global justice and radical democracy. Parading as a species of democracy, neoliberal economics and ideology cancel out democracy “as the incommensurable sharing of existence that makes the political possible.”14 Symptoms of ethical, politi­cal, and economic impoverishment are all around us. And, as if that were not enough, at the current moment in history we are witnessing the merging of violence and governance along with a systemic disinvestment in and breakdown of institutions and public spheres that have provided the minimal conditions for democracy and the principles of communal responsibil­ity. Young people are particularly vulnerable. As Jean-Marie Durand points out, “Youth is no longer considered the world’s future, but as a threat to its present. [For] youth, there is no longer any political discourse except for a disciplinary one.”13

As young people make diverse claims on the promise of a radical democracy in the streets, on campuses, and at other occupied sites, articulating what a fair and just world might be, they are treated as criminal populations—rogue groups incapable of toeing the line, “prone to irrational, intemperate and unpredictable” behavior.16Moreover, they are increasingly subjected to orchestrated modes of control and containment, if not police violence. Such youths are now viewed as the enemy by the political and corporate establishment because they make visible the repressed images of the common good and the impor­tance of democratic public spheres, public services, the social state, and a society shaped by democratic values rather than market values. Youthful protesters and others are reclaiming the repressed memories of the Good Society and a social state that once, as Zygmunt Bauman has pointed out, “endorsed collective insurance against individual misfortune and its consequences.”17 Bauman explains that such a state “lifts members of society to the status of citizens—that is, makes them stake-holders in addition to being stock-holders, beneficiaries but also actors responsible for the benefits’ creation and availability, individuals with acute interest in the common good understood as the shared institutions that can be trusted to assure solidity and reliability of the state-issued ‘collective insurance policy.’”18 In an attempt to excavate the repressed memories of the welfare state, David Theo Goldberg spells out in detail the specific mechanisms and policies it produced in the name of the general welfare between the 1930s and 1970s in the United States. He writes,

From the 1930s through the 1970s, the liberal democratic state had offered a more or less robust set of institutional appara­tuses concerned in principle at least to advance the welfare of its citizens. This was the period of advancing social security, welfare safety nets, various forms of national health system, the expansion of and investment in public education, including higher education, in some states to the exclusion of private and religiously sponsored educational institutions. It saw the emer­gence of state bureaucracies as major employers especially in later years of historically excluded groups. And all this, in turn, offered optimism among a growing proportion of the populace for access to middle-class amenities, including those previously racially excluded within the state and new immigrants from the global south.19

Young people today are protesting against a strengthening global capitalist project that erases the benefits of the welfare state and the possibility of a radical notion of democracy. They are protesting against a neoliberal project of accumulation, dispossession, deregulation, privatization, and commodification that leaves them out of any viable notion of the future. They are rejecting and resisting a form of casino capitalism that has ushered in a permanent revolution marked by a massive project of depoliticization, on the one hand, and an aggressive, if not savage, practice of distributing upward wealth, income, and op­portunity for the 1 percent on the other. Under neoliberalism, every moment, space, practice, and social relation offers the possibility of financial investment, or what Ernst Bloch once called the “swindle of fulfillment.”20 Goods, services, and targeted human beings are ingested into its waste machine and dismissed and disposed of as excess. Flawed consumers are now assigned the status of damaged and defective human beings. Resistance to such oppressive policies and practices does not come easily, and many young people are paying a price for such resistance. According to OccupyArrests.com, “there have been at least 6705 arrests in over 112 different cities as of March 6, 2012.”21

Occupy movement protests and state-sponsored violence “have become a mirror”—and I would add a defining feature—”of the contemporary state.”22 Abandoned by the existing political system, young people in Oakland, California, New York City, and numerous other cities have placed their bodies on the line, protesting peacefully while trying to produce a new language, politics, and “community that manifests the values of equality and mutual respect that they see missing in a world that is structured by neoliberal principles.”23 Well aware that the spaces, sites, and spheres for the representation of their voices, desires, and concerns have collapsed, they have occupied a number of spaces ranging from public parks to college campuses in an effort to create a public forum where they can narrate themselves and their visions of the future while representing the misfortunes, suffering, and hopes of the unemployed, poor, incarcerated, and marginalized. This movement is not simply about reclaiming space but also about producing new ideas, generating a new conversation, and introducing a new political language.

Rejecting the notion that democracy and markets are the same, young people are calling for the termination of corporate control over the commanding institutions of politics, culture, and economics, an end to the suppression of dissent, and a shutting down of the permanent warfare state. Richard Lichtman is right to insist that the Occupy movement should be praised for its embrace of communal democracy as well as an emerging set of shared concerns, principles, and values articulated “by a demand for equality, or, at the very least, for a significant lessening of the horrid extent of inequality; for a working democracy; for the elimination of the moneyed foun­dation of politics; for the abolition of political domination by a dehumanized plutocracy; for the replacement of ubiquitous commodification by the reciprocal recognition of humanity in the actions of its agents.”24 As Arundhati Roy points out, what connects the protests in the United States to resistance move­ments all over the globe is that young people “know that their being excluded from the obscene amassing of wealth of U.S. corporations is part of the same system of the exclusion and war that is being waged by these corporations in places like India, Africa, and the Middle East.”25 Of course, Lichtman, Roy, and others believe that this is just the beginning of a movement and that much needs to be done, as Staughton Lynd argues, to build new strategies, a vast network of new institutions and public spheres, a community of trust, and political organiza­tion that invites poor people into its ranks.26 Stanley Aronowitz goes further and insists that the Occupy movement needs to bring together the fight for economic equality and security with the task of reshaping American institutions along genuinely democratic lines.27

All of these issues are important, but what must be addressed in the most immediate sense is the danger the emerging police state in the United States poses not just to the young protesters occupying a number of American cities but to democracy itself. This threat is particularly evident in the results of a merging of neoliberal modes of discipline and education with a warlike mentality in which it becomes nearly impossible to reclaim the language of obligation, compassion, community, social re­sponsibility, and civic engagement. And unless the actions of young protesters, however diverse they may be, are understood alongside a robust notion of the social, civic courage, com­munal bonds, and the imperatives of a vital democracy, it will be difficult for the American public to challenge state violence and the framing of protest, dissent, and civic engagement as un-American or, worse, as a species of criminal behavior.

Although considerable coverage has been given in the pro­gressive media to the violence being waged against the Occupy protesters, these analyses rarely go far enough. I want to build on these critiques by arguing that it is important to situate the growing police violence within a broader set of categories that both enables a critical understanding of the underlying social, economic, and political forces at work in such assaults and al­lows us to reflect critically on the distinctiveness of the current historical period in which they are taking place. For example, it is difficult to address such state-sponsored violence against young people and the Occupy movement without analyzing the devolution of the social state and the corresponding rise of the warfare and punishing state.’2b The notion of historical conjunc­ture is important here because it both provides an opening into the diverse forces shaping a particular moment and allows for a productive balance of theory and strategy to inform future interventions. That is. it helps us to address theoretically how youth protests are largely related to and might resist a histori­cally specific neoliberal project that promotes vast inequalities in income and wealth, creates the student-loan debt bomb, eliminates much-needed social programs, privileges profits and commodities over people, and eviscerates the social wage.

Within the United States, the often violent response to non­violent forms of youth protest must also be analyzed within the framework of a mammoth military-industrial state and its commitment to war and the militarization of the entire society. The merging of the military-industrial complex and unchecked finance capital points to the need for strategies that address what is specific about the current warfare state and the neo­liberal project that legitimates it. That is, what are the diverse practices, interests, modes of power, social relations, public pedagogies, and economic configurations that shape the poli­tics of the punishing state? Focusing on the specifics of the current historical conjuncture is invaluable politically in that such an approach makes visible the ideologies, policies, and modes of governance produced by the neoliberal warfare state. When neoliberal mechanisms of power and ideology are made visible, it becomes easier for the American public to challenge the common assumptions that legitimate these apparatuses of power. This type of interrogative strategy also reclaims the necessity of critical thought, civic engagement, and democratic politics by invoking the pedagogical imperative that humans not only make history but can alter its course and future direction.

For many young people today, human agency is denned as a mode of self-reflection and critical social engagement rather than a surrender to a paralyzing and unchallengeable fate. Likewise, democratic expression has become fundamental to their existence. Many young people are embracing democracy not merely as a mode of governance, but more importantly, as Bill Moyers points out, as a means of dignifying people “so they become fully free to claim their moral and political agency.”29 Human agency has become a vital force to struggle over as part of an ongoing project in which the future remains an open horizon that cannot be dismissed through appeals to the end of history or end of ideology.30 But to understand how politics refuses any guarantees and resistance becomes possible, we must first understand the present. Following Stuart Hall. I want to argue that the current historical moment, or what he calls the “long march of the Neoliberal Revolution,”31 has to be understood not only through the emergent power of finance capital and its institutions but also in terms of the growing forms of authoritarian violence that it deploys and reinforces. I want to address these antidemocratic pressures and their relationship to the rising protests of young people in the United States and abroad through the lens of two interrelated crises: the crisis of governing through violence and the crisis of what Alex Honneth has called “a failed sociality”32—which currently conjoin as a driving force to dismantle any viable notion of public pedagogy and civic education. If we are not to fall prey to a third crisis—”the crisis of negation”33—then it is imperative that we recognize the hope symbolized and embodied by young people across America and their attempt to remake society in order to ensure a better, more democratic future for us all.

The Crisis of Governing through Violence

The United States is addicted to violence, and this dependency is fueled increasingly by its willingness to wage war at home and abroad.34 As Andrew Bacevich rightly argues, “war has be­come a normal condition [matched by] Washington’s seemingly irrevocable abandonment of any semblance of self-restraint regarding the use of violence as an instrument of statecraft.”35 But war in this instance is not merely the outgrowth of policies designed ‘to protect the security- and well-being of the United States. It is also, as C. Wright Mills pointed out. part of a “mili­tary metaphysics”36—a complex of forces that includes corpora­tions, defense industries, politicians, financial institutions, and universities. The culture of war provides jobs, profits, political payoffs, research funds, and forms of political and economic power that reach into every aspect of society. War is also one of the nation’s most honored virtues. Its militaristic values now bear down on almost every aspect of American life.37 Similarly, as the governing-through-violence complex becomes normalized in the broader society, it continually works in a variety of ways to erode any distinction between war and peace.

Increasingly stoked by a moral arnd political hysteria, war­like values produce and endorse shared fears and organized violence as the primary registers of social relations. The con­ceptual merging of war and violence is evident in the ways in which the language of militarization is now used by politicians to address a range of policies as if they are operating on a battlefield or in a war zone. War becomes the adjective of choice as policymakers talk about waging war on drugs, poverty, and the underclass. There is more at work here than the prevalence of armed knowledge and a militarized discourse; there is also the emergence of a militarized society in which “the range of acceptable opinion inevitably shrinks.”38 And this choice of vocabulary and slow narrowing of democratic vision further enable the use of violence as an instrument of domestic policy.

How else to explain that the United States has become the punishing state par excellence, as indicated by the hideous fact that while it contains “5 percent of the Earth’s population, it is home to nearly a quarter of its prisoners”?39 Senator Lindsay Graham made this very clear in his rhetorical justification of the 2012 National Defense Authorization Act by stating “that under this Act the U.S. homeland is considered a ‘battlefield.’”40 The ominous implications behind this statement, especially for Oc­cupy movement protesters, became obvious in light of the fact that the act gives the US government the right to detain “U.S. citizens indefinitely without charge or trial if deemed necessary by the president…. Detentions can follow mere membership, past or present, in ‘suspect organizations.’”41

Since 9/11, the war on terror and the campaign for home­land security have increasingly mimicked the tactics of the enemies they sought to crush and as such have become a war on democracy. A new military urbanism has taken root the United States as state surveillance projects proliferate, signaling what Stephen Graham calls “the startling militariza­tion of civil society—the extension of military ideas of tracking, identification, and targeting into the quotidian spaces and circulations of everyday life.”42 This is partly evident in the ongoing militarization of police departments throughout the United States. Baton-wielding cops are now being supplied with the latest military equipment imported straight from the war zones of Iraq and Afghanistan. Military technologies once used exclusively on the battlefield are now being supplied to police units across the nation: drones, machine-gun-equipped armored trucks, SWAT-type vehicles, “digital communications equipment, and Kevlar helmets, like those used by soldiers used in foreign wars.”43The domestic war against “terrorists” (code for young protesters) provides new opportunities for major defense contractors and corporations to become “more a part of our domestic lives.”44 As Glenn Greenwald points out, the United States since 9/11

has aggressively paramilitarized the nation’s domestic police forces by lavishing them with countless military-style weapons and other war-like technologies, training them in war-zone mili­tary tactics, and generally imposing a war mentality on them. Arming domestic police forces with paramilitary weaponry will ensure their systematic use even in the absence of a terrorist attack on U.S. soil; they will simply find other, increasingly permissive uses for those weapons.45

These domestic paramilitary forces also undermine free speech and dissent through the sheer threat of violence while often wielding power that runs roughshod over civil liberties, human rights, and civic responsibilities.46 Given that “by age 23, almost a third of Americans are arrested for a crime,” it is not unreason­able to assume that in the new militarized state the perception of young people as predators, threats to corporate governance, and disposable objects will intensify, as will the growth of a punish­ing state that acts out against young protesters in increasingly unrestrained and savage ways.47 Young people, particularly poor minorities of color, have already become the targets of what David Theo Goldberg calls “extraordinary power in the name of securitization … [viewed as] unruly populations … [who] are to be subjected to necropolitical discipline through the threat of imprisonment or death, physical or social.”4

Shared fears and the media hysteria that promotes them pro­duce more than a culture of suspects and unbridled intimidation. Fear on a broad public scale serves the interests of policymakers who support a growing militarization of the police along with the corporations that supply high-tech scanners, surveillance cameras, riot extinguishers, and toxic chemicals—all of which are increasingly used with impunity on anyone who engages in peaceful protests against the warfare and corporate state.49 Im­ages abound in the mainstream media of such abuses. There is the now famous image of an eighty-four-year-old woman looking straight into a camera, her face drenched in a liquid spray used by the police after attending a protest rally. There is the image of a woman who is two months pregnant being carried to safety after being pepper-sprayed by the police. By now, the images of young people being dragged by their hair across a street to a waiting police van have become all too familiar.50 Some protesters have been seriously hurt, as in the case of Scott Olsen. an Iraq War veteran who was critically injured in a protest in Oakland in October 2011. Too much of this violence is reminiscent of the violence used against civil rights demonstrators by the enforcers of Jim Crow in the 1950s and 1960s.51

No longer restricted to a particular military ideology, the celebration and permeation of warlike values throughout the culture have hastened the militarization of the entire society. As Michael Geyer points out, militarization can be defined as “the contradictory and tense social process in which civil society organizes itself for the production of violence.”52 As the late Tony Judt put it, “The United States is becoming not just a militarized state but a military society: a country where armed power is the measure of national greatness, and war, or planning for war, is the exemplary (and only) common project.”55 But the prevailing intensification of American society’s permanent war status does more than embrace a set of unifying symbols that promote a survival-of-the-fittest ethic, conformity over dissent, the strong over the weak, and fear over responsibility. Such a move also gives rise to a “failed sociality” in which violence becomes the most important tool of power and the mediating force in shaping social relationships.

A state that embraces a policy of permanent war needs willing subjects to abide by its values, ideology, and narratives of fear and violence. Such legitimation is largely provided through people’s immersion in a market-driven society that appears increasingly addicted to consumerism, militarism, and the spectacles of violence endlessly circulated through popular culture.54 Examples of the violent fare on offer extend from the realm of high fashion and Hollywood movies to extreme sports, video games, and music concerts sponsored by the Pentagon.55 The market-driven celebration of a militaristic mind-set de­mands a culture of conformity, quiet intellectuals, and a largely passive republic of consumers. It also needs subjects who find intense pleasure in spectacles of violence.56

In a society saturated with hyperviolence and spectacular representations of cruelty, it becomes more difficult for the American public to respond politically and ethically to the violence as it is actually happening on the ground. In this in­stance, previously unfamiliar violence such as extreme images of torture and death become banally familiar, while familiar violence that occurs daily is barely recognized, relegated to the realm of the unnoticed and unnoticeable. How else to explain the public indifference to the violence inflicted on nonviolent youth protesters who are raising their voices against a state in which they have been excluded from any claim on hope, pros­perity, and democracy? While an increasing volume of brutal­ity is pumped into the culture, yesterday’s spine-chilling and nerve-wrenching displays of violence lose their shock value. As the demand for more intense images of violence accumulates, the moral indifference and desensitization to violence grow, while matters of savage cruelty and suffering are offered up as fodder for sports, entertainment, news media, and other pleasure-seeking outlets.

As American culture is more and more marked by exag­gerated aggression and a virulent notion of hard masculinity, state violence—particularly the use of torture, abductions, and targeted assassinations—wins public support and requires little or no justification as US exceptionalism becomes accepted by many Americans as a matter of common sense.57 The social impacts of a “political culture of hyper punitiveness”58 can be seen in how structures of discipline and punishment have in­filtrated the social order like a highly charged electric current. For example, the growing taste for violence can be seen in the criminalization of behaviors such as homelessness that once elicited compassion and social protection. We throw the home­less in jail instead of building houses, just as we increasingly send poor, semiliterate students to jail instead of providing them with a decent education. Similarly, instead of creating jobs for the unemployed, we allow banks to foreclose on their mortgages and in some cases put jobless people in debtors’ prisons. The prison in the twenty-first century7 becomes a way of making the effects of ruthless power invisible by making the victims of such power disappear. As Angela Davis points out, “According to this logic the prison becomes a way of disappearing people in the false hope of disappearing the underlying social problems they represent.”39 As the notion of the social is emptied out. criminality is now defined as an essential part of a person’s identity. As a rhetoric of punishment gains ground in American society, social problems are reduced to character flaws, insuf­ficient morality, or a eugenicist notion of being “born evil.”60

Another symptomatic example of the way in which violence has saturated everyday life and produced a “failed sociality” can be seen in the growing acceptance by the American pub­lic of modeling public schools after prisons and criminalizing the behavior of young people in public schools. Incidents that were traditionally handled by teachers, guidance counselors, and school administrators are now dealt with by the police and the criminal justice system. The consequences have been disastrous for young people. Not only do schools increasingly resemble the culture of prisons, but young children are being arrested and subjected to court appearances for behaviors that can only be called trivial. How else to explain the case of the five-year-old student in Florida who was put in handcuffs and taken to the local jail because she had a temper tantrum, or the case of Alexa Gonzales in New York, who was arrested for doodling on her desk? Or twelve-year-old Sarah Bustamatenes, who was pulled from a Texas classroom, charged with a crimi­nal misdemeanor, and hauled into court because she sprayed perfume on herself?61 How do we explain the arrest of a thirteen-year-old student in a Maryland school for refusing to say the pledge of allegiance?62 Or the case of a sixteen-year-old student with an IQ below 70 being pepper-sprayed because he did not understand a question asked by the police officer in his school? After being pepper-sprayed, the startled youth started swinging his arms and for that was charged with two counts of assault on a public servant and faces a possible prison sentence .63 In

The most extreme cases, children have been beaten, Tasered, and killed by the police.

These examples may still be unusual enough to shock, though they are becoming more commonplace. What must be recognized is that too many schools have become combat zones in which students are routinely subjected to metal detectors, surveillance cameras, uniformed security guards, weapons searches, and in some cases SWAT raids and police dogs sniffing for drugs.64 Under such circumstances, the purpose of school­ing becomes to contain and punish young people, especially those marginalized by race and class, rather than educate them. “Arrests and police interactions … disproportionately affect low-income schools with large African-American and Latino populations.”65 For the many disadvantaged students being funnelled into the “school-to-prison pipeline,” schools ensure that their futures look grim indeed as their educational experiences acclimatize them to forms of carceral treatment.66 There is more at work here than a flight from responsibility on the part of educators, parents, and politicians who support and maintain policies that fuel this expanding edifice of law enforce­ment against youth. Underlying the repeated decisions to turn away from helping young people is the growing sentiment that youths, particularly minorities of color and class, constitute a threat to adults and the only effective way to deal with them is to subject them to mind-crushing punishment. Students being miseducated, criminalized, and arrested through a form of pe­nal pedagogy in prison-type schools provides a grave reminder of the degree to which the ethos of containment and punishment now creeps into spheres of everyday life that were largely im­mune in the past to this type of state and institutional violence.

The era of failed sociality that Americans now inhabit reminds us that we live in a time that breaks young people, devalues justice, and saturates the minute details of everyday life with the constant threat, if not reality, of violence. The medieval turn to embracing forms of punishment that inflict pain on the psyches and bodies of young people is part of a larger immersion of society in public spectacles of violence. The control society67 is now the ultimate form of entertainment in America, as the pain of others, especially those considered disposable and pow­erless, is no longer a subject of compassion but one of ridicule and amusement. High-octane violence and human suffering are now considered consumer entertainment products designed to raise the collective pleasure quotient. Brute force and savage killing replayed over and over in the culture function as part of an anti-immune system that turns the economy of genuine pleasure into a mode of sadism that saps democracy of any political substance and moral vitality, even as the body politic appears engaged in a process of cannibalizing its own young. It is perhaps not far-fetched to imagine a reality TV show in which millions tune in to watch young kids being handcuffed, arrested, tried in the courts, and sent to juvenile detention centers. No society can make a claim to being a democracy as long as it defines itself through shared hatred and fears rather than shared responsibilities.

In the United States, society has been reconfigured to eliminate many young people’s access to the minimal condi­tions required for living a full, dignified, and productive life as well as the conditions necessary for sustaining and nurturing democratic structures and ideologies. The cruelty and violence infecting the culture are both a symptom and a cause of our collective failure to mobilize large-scale collective resistance against a growing police state and the massive suffering caused by the savagery of neoliberal capitalism. Unfortunately, even as expressions of authentic rage against Wall Street continue in the Occupy movement, the widespread hardship that young people and other marginalized populations face today “has not found resonance in the public space of articulation. “fs With the collapse of a market economy into a market society, democracy no longer makes a claim on the importance of the common good. As a mode of diseased sociality, the current version of market fundamentalism has turned the principle of freedom against itself, deforming a collective vision of democracy and social justice that once made equality a viable economic idea and political goal in the pursuit of one’s own freedom and civil liberties. As Zygmunt Bauman insists, one of the consequences of this market-driven sovereignty is “the progressive decomposi­tion and crumbling of social bonds and communal cohesion.”6

Neoliberalism creates a language of social magic in which the social either vaporizes into thin air or is utterly pathologized. Shared realities and effects of poverty, racism, inequality, and financial corruption disappear, but not the ideological and institutional mechanisms that make such scourges possible.70 And when the social is invoked favorably, the invocation is only ever used to recognize the claims and values of corporations, the ultrarich, banks, hedgefund managers, and other privileged groups comprising the 1 percent. Self-reliance and the image of the self-made man cancel out any viable notion of social relations, the common good, public values, and collective struggle.

The Occupy movements have recognized that what erodes under such conditions is not only an acknowledgment of the historical contexts, social and economic formations, relations of power, and systemic forms of discrimination that have pro­duced massive inequalities in wealth, income, and opportunity but also any claim to the promise of a substantive democracy. Increasingly, as both the public pedagogy and economic dic­tates of neoliberalism are contested by the Occupiers, the state responds with violence. But the challenges to militarism, in­equality, and political corruption with which young people have confronted American society are being met with a violence that encompasses more than isolated incidents of police brutality. It is a violence emanating from an ongoing wholesale transfor­mation of the United States into a warfare state, from a state that once embraced the social contract—at least minimally—to one that no longer has even a language for community, a state in which the bonds of fear and commodification have replaced the bonds of civic responsibility and democratic commitment. As a result, violence on the part of the state and corporations is not aimed just at youthful protesters. Through a range of visible and invisible mechanisms, an ever-expanding multitude of individuals and populations has been caught in a web of cruelty, dispossession, exclusion, and exploitation.

The predominance of violence in all aspects of social life suggests that young people and others marginalized by class, race, and ethnicity have been abandoned as American soci­ety’s claim on democracy gives way to the forces of militarism, market fundamentalism, and state terrorism. We must ad­dress how a metaphysics of war and violence has taken hold of American society, and the savage social costs it has entailed.

It is these very forms of social, political, and economic violence that young people have recognized and endured against their own minds and bodies, but they are using their indignation to inspire action rather than despair. The spreading imprint of violence throughout society suggests the need for a politics that riot only critiques the established order but imagines a new one—one informed by a radical vision in which the future does not imitate the present. Critique must emerge alongside a sense of realistic hope, and individual struggles must merge into larger social movements.

Occupy Wall Street surfaced in the wake of the 9/11 memori­als and global economic devastation rooted in market deregu­lation and financial corruption. It also developed in response to atrocities committed by the US military in the name of the war on terror, violent and racist extremism spreading through US politics and popular culture, a growing regime of discipline and punishment aimed at marginalized youth, retrograde edu­cation policies destructive of knowledge and critical learning, and the enactment of ruthless austerity policies that serve only to increase human suffering. With the democratic horizon in the United States increasingly darkened by the shadows of a looming authoritarianism and unprecedented levels of social and economic inequality, the Occupy movement and other global movements signify hope and renewal. The power of these movements to educate and act for change should not be under­estimated, particularly among youths, even as we collectively bear witness to the violent retaliation of official power against democratic protesters and the growing fury of the punishing state. In the book that follows, I present chapters that move from negation to hope, from critique to imagining otherwise in order to act otherwise.

The first chapter provides a retrospective on 9/11 that ac­knowledges the way in which the tragic events of 2001 were used to unleash brutal violence on a global scale and legitimate the expansion of the warfare state and unthinkable forms of torture against populations increasingly deemed disposable. In particular, the traumatic aftermath of 9/11 in the United States was distorted into a culture of fear: heightened domes­tic security; and accelerated disciplinary forces that targeted youth, particularly the most vulnerable marginalized by race and class, as potential threats to the social order. This chapter exposes some of the widespread impacts of an unchecked pun­ishing state and its apparatuses—most notably the escalating war on youth, the attack on the social state, and the growth of a “governing through crime” complex—while also paying tribute to the resilience and humanity of the victims of the 9/11 at­tacks and their families. It asserts that public recollection in the aftermath of those traumatic events—particularly the sense of common purpose and civic commitment that ensued—should serve as a source of collective hope for a different future than the one we have seen on display since September 2001.71

Chapter 2 discusses in further detail the cultural shift in the United States that has led to the inscription and normalization of cruelty and violence. In spring 2011, the role of the domi­nant media in sanctioning this culture of cruelty extended to its failure to provide a critical response when the “Kill Team” photographs were released. Even as young people around the world demonstrated against military power and authoritarian regimes, soldiers in the US military fighting in the “war on ter­ror” gleefully participated in horrifying injustices inflicted upon helpless others. The “Kill Team” photos—images of US soldiers smiling and posing with dead Afghan civilians and their des­ecrated bodies—serve as but one example signaling a broader shift in American culture away from compassion for the suffer­ing of other human beings toward a militarization of the culture and a sadistic pleasure in violent spectacles of pain and torture. Further discussion of American popular culture demonstrates how US society increasingly manifests a “depravity of aesthetics” through eagerly consuming displays of aggression, brutality, and death. Connecting this culture of cruelty to the growing influence of neoliberal policies across all sectors, I suggest that this disturbing new enjoyment of the humiliation of others—far from representing an individualized pathology—now infects US society as a whole in a way that portends the demise of the social state, if not any vestige of a real and substantive democ­racy. Recognizing the power of dominant culture to shape our thoughts, identities, and desires, we must struggle to uncover “instants of truth” that draw upon our compassion for others and rupture the hardened order of reality constructed by the media and other dominant cultural forces.

The third chapter suggests that even as US popular culture increasingly circulates images of mind-crushing brutality, American political culture in a similar fashion now functions like a theater of cruelty in which spectacles and public policies display gratuitous and unthinking violence toward the most vulnerable groups in the country, especially children. Despite persistent characterizations of terrorists as “other,” the greatest threat to US security lies in homegrown, right-wing extremism of a kind similar to that espoused by Anders Behring Breivik who in July 2011 bombed government buildings in Oslo, kill­ing eight people, and then went on a murderous shooting rampage in Norway, killing sixty-nine youths attending a Labor Party camp. The eruption of violent speech and racist rhetoric within US political discourse indicates a growing tolerance at the highest levels of government of extremist elements and the authoritarian views and racist hatred they deploy to advance their agenda—which includes dismantling the social state, legitimating a governing apparatus based on fear and punish­ment, undermining critical thought and education through ap­peals to conformity and authoritarian populism, and disposing of all populations deemed dangerous and threatening to the dominance of a white conservative nationalism. Bespeaking far more than a disturbing turn in US politics and the broader cul­ture, right-wing policymakers abetted by the dominant media are waging a campaign of domestic terrorism against children, the poor, and other vulnerable groups as part of a larger war against democracy and the democratic formative culture on which it depends for survival.

Continuing an exploration of the neoliberal mode of authori­tarianism that has infiltrated US politics, Chapter 4 discusses how anti-immigrant and racist political ideology couched in a discourse of patriotism is being translated into regressive educational policies and an attack on critical education. Remi­niscent of the book burnings conducted in Nazi Germany, the Arizona state legislature and school board in Tucson have systematically eliminated ethnic studies from elementary schools and banned books that: discuss racism and oppres­sion, including several books by Mexican American authors in a school district where more than 60 percent of the students are from a Mexican American background. Within a neoliberal regime that supports corporate hegemony, social and economic inequality, and antidemocratic forms of governance, racism is either privatized by encouraging individual solutions to socially produced problems or disavowed, appearing instead in the guise of a language of punishment that persecutes anyone who even raises the specter of ongoing racism. The censorship of ethnic studies in Arizona and of forms of pedagogy that give voice to oppression points to how ideas that engage people in a struggle for equality and democracy pose a threat to fundamentalist ideologues and their war against the bodies, histories, and modes of knowledge that could produce the critical conscious­ness and civic courage necessary for a just society.

Chapter 5 examines the politics of austerity in terms of how it releases corporations and the rich from responsibility for the global economic recession and instead inflicts vast amounts of pain and suffering upon the most vulnerable in society. As an extension of the culture of cruelty, austerity measures encode a fear and contempt for social and economic equality, leading not only to the weakening of social protections and tax breaks for the wealthy but also to the criminalization of social prob­lems. Austerity as a form of “trickle-down cruelty” symbolizes much more than neglect—it suggests a new mode of violence mobilized to address pervasive social ills that will only serve to hasten the emergence of punishing states and networks of global violence. Hope for preventing the escalation of human suffering must be situated in a concerted effort both to raise awareness about the damage wreaked by unchecked casino capitalism and to rethink the very nature of what democracy means and might look like in the United States. A capacity for critical thought, compassion, and informed judgment needs to be nurtured against the forms of bigotry, omission, and social irresponsibility that appear increasingly not only to sanction but also to revel in horror stories of inhumanity and destruc­tion.

Tracing the trajectory of class struggle and inequality in America up to the present day, Chapter 6 argues that a grow­ing concentration of wealth in the hands of the ruling elite means that the political system and mode of governance in the United States are no longer democratic, even as state power is subordinated to the interests of corporate sovereignty. In this chapter, an account of the political, social, and economic injus­tices confronting the vast majority of Americans—the result of a decades-long unchecked supremacy of corporate power, the reign of corrupt financiers, and a ruthless attack on the social state and social protections—sets the stage for what emerged as the Occupy Wall Street movement in September 2011. While making visible the ongoing significance of class as a political category, the Occupiers did much more than rehash the tired rhetoric of “class warfare” (marshaled by their opponents in an effort to position the ruling elites as victims of class resentment) Quite to the contrary, the Occupiers revealed the potential for a broad collective movement both to expose the material realities of inequality and injustice and to counter prevailing antidemocratic narratives while also fundamentally changing the terms of engagement by producing new images, stories, and memories that challenged the complacency of the public and the impoverished imagination of political and corporate leadership in America.

Chapter 7 concludes the book by reviewing the impact and legacy of the Occupy movement, particularly how it exposed the many ways in which US society has mortgaged the future of youth. The Occupiers have become the new public intellectu­als, and they are creating a newpedagogy and politics firmly rooted in democracy, social justice, and human dignity that increasingly occupies the terrain of public discourse and poses a fundamental challenge to the control of the public sphere by corporate elites and their teaching machines. At risk of losing ideological dominance, the authorities retaliated against Oc­cupy protesters by resorting to brutal forms of punishment. This police violence at once made visible the modes of au­thoritarianism and culture of cruelty that permeate American society—as was seen even at universities and colleges across the United States, institutions charged with contributing to the intellectual, social, and moral growth of society’s youth.

As I complete the writing of this introduction, the Occupy struggle for social and economic justice continues on American university campuses—where the influence of austerity mea­sures is increasingly being felt, although the working conditions for faculty and the quality of education for students began to deteriorate under the neoliberal ascendancy decades ago. The issues impacting higher education are undoubtedly symptom­atic of the accelerated pace with which the withering away of the public realm is happening. The book finishes, however, by suggesting that the Occupy movement is far from over— despite the shrinking of physical space in which it can protest. As it expands and spreads across the globe, the movement is producing a new public realm of ideas and making important connections between the deteriorating state of education, an­tidemocratic forces, and the savage inequalities produced by a market society. The response of young people as the new generation of public intellectuals offers us both critique and hope. It is a call to work collectively to foster new modes of thought and action—one that should be actively supported by higher education and other remaining public spheres in the United States, if American democracy is to have a future at all.

 

Notes for Introduction

1.   Clearly, there are many reasons for the various youthful pro­tests across the globe, ranging from the murder of young people and anger against financial corruption to the riots against cuts to social benefits and the rise of educational costs.

2.   Christopher McMichael, ‘The Shock-and-Awe of Mega Sports Events,” OpenDemocracy (January 30, 2012), online at: http://www.opendemocracy.net/christopher-mcmichael/shock-and-awe-of-mega-sports-events.

3.  Zygmunt Bauman, Wasted Lives (London: Polity, 2004), p. 76.

4.   See Loic Wacquant, Punishing the Poor: The Neoliberal Govern­ment of Social Insecurity (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2009).

5.  Amanda Peterson Beadle, “Obama Administration Ends Medicaid Funding for Texas Women’s Health Program,” Think-Progress (March 16, 2012), online at:http://thinkprogress.org/ health/2012/03/16/445894/funding-cut-for-texas-womens-health-program.

6.   Maureen Dowd, “Don’t Tread on Us,” New York Times (March 14, 2012), p. A25.

7.   See, for example, Daisy Grewal, “How Wealth Reduces Com­passion: As Riches Grow, Empathy for Others Seems to Decline,” Scientific American (Tuesday, April 10, 2012), online at: http:// http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=how-wealth-reduces-compassion&print=true.

8.  Azam Ahmed, “The Hunch, the Pounce and the Kill: How Boaz Weinstein and Hedge Funds Outsmarted JPMorgan,” New York Times (May 27, 2012), p. BUI.

9.  Anne-Marie Cusac, Cruel and Unusual: The Culture of Punish­ment in America (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2009), p. 3.

10.   David Harvey, A Brief History of Neoliberalism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007), p. 19.

11.   Stuart Hall, “The Neo-Liberal Revolution,” Cultural Studies 25:6 (November 2011): 706.

12.   Ibid.

13.  Wendy Brown, Regulating Aversion (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008), p. 16.

14.   Pascale-Anne Brault and Michael Naas, “Translators’ Note,” in Jean-Luc Nancy, The Truth of Democracy (New York: Fordham University Press, 2010), p. ix.

15.  Jean-Marie Durand, “For Youth: A Disciplinary Discourse Only,” TruthOut (November 15, 2009), trans. Leslie Thatcher, online at: http://www.truthout.0rg/l1190911.

16.   David Theo Goldberg, The Threat of Race: Reflections on Racial Neoliberalism (Maiden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009), p. 347.

17.   Zygmunt Bauman, “Has the Future a Left?” Soundings 35 (Spring 2007): 5-6.

18.   Ibid.

19.   Goldberg, The Threat of Race, p. 331.

20.   Cited in Anson Rabinach, “Unclaimed Heritage: Ernst Bloch’s Heritage of Our Times and the Theory of Fascism,” New German Cri­tique (Spring 1997): 8.

21.   See OccupyArreste.com, http://occupyarrests.moonfruit.com.

22.   Durand, “For Youth.”

23.   Kyle Bella, “Bodies in Alliance: Gender Theorist Judith Butler on the Occupy and SlutWalk Movements,” TruthOut (December 15, 2011), online at:http://www.truth-out.org/bodies-alliance-gender-theorist-judith-butler-occupy-and-slutwalk-movements/1323880210.

24.   Richard Lichtman, “Not a Revolution?” TruthOut (Decem­ber 14, 2011), online at: http://www.truth-out.org/not-revolu-tion/1323801994.

25.   Arun Gupta, “Arundhati Roy: The People Who Created the Crisis Will Not Be the Ones That Come up with a Solution,’” Guard­ian (November 30, 2011), online at:http://www.guardian.co.uk/ world/2011 /nov/30/arundhati-roy-interview.

26.   Staughton Lynd, “What Is to Be Done Next?” Counter-Punch (February 29, 2012), online at: http://www.counterpunch .org/2012/02/29/what-is-to-be-done-next.

27.   Stanley Aronowitz, “Notes on the Occupy Movement,” Logos (Fall 2011), online at: http://logosjournal.com/201 l/fall_aronowitz.

28.   On the rise of the punishing state, see Cusac, Cruel and Unusual; Wacquant, Punishing the Poor, Angela Y. Davis, Abolition Democracy: Beyond Empire, Prisons, and Torture (New York: Seven Stories Press, 2005).

29.   Bill Moyers, “Discovering What Democracy Means,” Tom-Paine (February 12, 2007), online at: http://www.tompaine.com/articles/2007/02/12/discovering_what_democracy_means.php.

30.   Daniel Bell, The End of Ideology: On the Exhaustion of Political Ideas in the Fifties (New York: Free Press, 1966); and the more recent Francis Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man (New York: Free Press, 2006).

31.   Stuart Hall, “The March of the Neoliberals,” Guardian (September 12, 2011), online at: http://www.guardian.co.uk/poli-tics/201 l/sep/12/march-of-the-neoliberals/.

32.  Alex Honneth, Pathologies of Reason (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), p. 188.

33.   John Van Houdt, ‘The Crisis of Negation: An Interview with Alain Badiou,” Continent 1:4 (2011): 234-238, online at: http://con-tinentcontinent.cc/index.php/continent/article/viewArticle/65.

34.   See for instance, Noam Chomsky, Failed States: The Abuse of Power and the Assault on Democracy (New York: Holt Paperbacks, 2007).

35.   Andrew Bacevich, “After Iraq, War Is US,” Reader Supported News (December 20, 2011), online at: http://readersupportednews. org/opinion2/424-national-security/9007-after-iraq-war-is-us.

36.   C. Wright Mills, The Power Elite (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), p. 222.

37.   See Gore Vidal, Imperial America: Reflections on the United States of Amnesia (New York: Nation Books, 2004); Gore Vidal, Perpetual War for Perpetual Peace (New York: Nation Books, 2002); Chris Hedges, War Is a Force That Gives Us Meaning (New York: Anchor Books, 2003); Chalmers Johnson, The Sorrows of Empire: Militarism, Secrecy, and the End of the Republic (New York: Metropolitan Books, 2004); Andrew Bacevich, The New American Militarism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005); Chalmers Johnson, Nemesis: The Last Days of the Republic (New York: Metropolitan Books); Andrew J. Bacevich, Washington Rules: America’s Path to Permanent War (New York: Metropolitan Books, 2010); and Nick Turse, The Complex: How the Military Invades Our Everyday Lives (New York: Metropolitan Books, 2008).

38.   Tony Judt, “The New World Order,” New York Review of Books 11:2 (July 14, 2005): 17.

39.   Cusac, Cruel and Unusual, p. 2.

40.   Jim Garrison, “Obama’s Most Fateful Decision,” Huffington Post (December 12, 2011), online at: http://www.hufflngtonpost.com/ jim-garrison/obamas-most-fateful-decis_b_l 143005.html.

41.   Ibid.

42.   Stephen Graham, Cities under Siege: The New Military Urban-ism (London: Verso, 2010), p. xi.

43.  Andrew Becker and G. W. Schulz, “Cops Ready for War,” Reader Supported News (December 21, 2011), online at: http:// readersupportednews.org/news-section2/316-20/9023-focus-cops-ready-for-war.

44.   Ibid.

45.   Glenn Greenwald, “The Roots of the UC-Davis Pepper-Spraying,” Salon (November 20, 2011), online at: http://www.salon .com/2011/11 /20/the_roots_of_the_uc_davis_pepper_spraying.

46.   See, for instance, Steven Rosenfeld, “5 Freedom-Killing Tactics Police Will Use to Crack Down on Protests in 2012,” AlterNet (March 16, 2012), online at:http://www.alternet.org/story/154577/5_freedom-killing_tactics_police_will_use_to_crack_down_on_protests_in_2012.

47.   Erica Goode, “Many in U.S. Are Arrested by Age 23, Study Finds,” New York Times (December 19, 2011), p. A15.

48.   Goldberg, The Threat of Race, p. 334.

49.   Lauren Kelley, “Occupy Updates: Extreme Police Violence in Berkeley, with Calls for a Strike; Harvard Protesters Shut out of Harvard Yard,” AlterNet (November 14, 2011), online at: http://www.alternet.org/newsandviews/article/728865/occupy_updates%3A_ex-treme_police_violence_in_berkeley,_with_calls_for_a_strike%3B_har-vard_protesters_shut_out_of_harvard_yard; Conor Friedersdorf, “UC Berkeley Riot Police Use Batons to Clear Students from Sproul Plaza,” Atlantic (November 10, 2011), online at: http://www.theatlantic. com/national/print/2011/11 /uc-berkeley-riot-police-use-batons-to-clear-students-from-sproul-plaza/248228; Al Baker, “When the Police Go Military,” New York Times (December 3, 2011), p. SR6; and Rania Khalek, “Pepper-Spraying Protesters Is Just the Beginning: Here Are More Hypermilitarized Weapons Your Local Police Force Could Employ,” AlterNet (November 22, 2011), online at: http://www .alternet.org/story/153147/pepper-spraying_protesters_is_just_the_ beginning%3A_here_are_more_hypermilitarized_weapons_your_lo-caLpolice_force_could_employ.

50.   Philip Govrevitch, “Whose Police?” New Yorker (November 17, 2011), online at:http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/com-ment/2011/11/occupy-wall-street-police-bloomberg.html.

51.   Phil Rockstroh, “The Police State Makes Its Move: Re­taining One’s Humanity in the Face of Tyranny,” CommonDreams (November 15, 2011), online at:http://www.commondreams.org/ view/2011/11/15.

52.   Michael Geyer, ‘The Militarization of Europe, 1914-1945,” in John R. Gillis, ed. The Militarization of the Western World (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1989), p. 79.

53.  Judt, “The New World Order,” pp. 14-18.

54.   Geoff Martin and Erin Steuter, Pop Culture Goes to War: Enlisting and Resisting Militarism in the War on Terror (New York: Lexington Books, 2010).

55.   Carl Boggs and Tom Pollard, The Hollywood War Machine: U.S. Militarism and Popular Culture (Boulder, CO: Paradigm Publish­ers, 2006).

56.   Kostas Gouliamos and Christos Kassimeris, eds., The Market­ing of War in the Age of Neo-Militarism (New York: Routledge, 2011).

57.   David Cole, “An Executive Power to Kill?” New York Review of Books (March 6, 2012), online at: http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/ nyrblog/2012/mar/06/targeted-killings-holder-speech.

58.   Steve Herbert and Elizabeth Brown, “Conceptions of Space and Crime in the Punitive Neoliberal City,” Antipode (2006): 757.

59.   Davis, Abolition Democracy, p. 41.

60.   One classic example of this neoliberal screed can be found most recently in an unapologetic defense of social Darwinism by Charles Murray, Coming Apart: The State of White America, 1960-2010 (New York: Crown Forum, 2012). For a critique of this position, see David Garland, The Culture of Control: Crime and Social Order in Con­temporary Society (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001); Philip Jenkins, Decade of Nightmares: The End of the Sixties and the Making of Eighties America (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006); and Jonathan Simon, Governing through Crime: How the War on Crime Transformed American Democracy and Created a Culture of Fear (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007).

61.   Chris McGreal, ‘The US Schools with Their Own Police,” Guardian (January 9, 2012), online at: http://www.guardian.co.uk/ world/2012/jan/09/texas-police-schools.

62.   Daniel Tancer, “Student Punished for Refusing to Cite the Pledge,” Psyche, Science, and Society (February 25, 2010), online at:http://psychoanalystsopposewar.org/blog/2010/02/25/student-punished-for-refusing-to-recite-the-pledge.

63.   McGreal, ‘The US Schools with Their Own Police.”

64.   Criminal Injustice Kos, “Criminal Injustice Kos: Interrupting the School to Prison Pipeline,” Daily Kos (March 30, 2011), online at:http://www.dailykos.com/story/2011/03/30/960807/-Criminal-InJustice-Kos:-Interruptlng-the-School-to-Prison-Pipeline.

65.   “A Failure of Imagination,” Smartypants (March 3, 2010), online at:http://immasmartypants.blogspot.com/2010/03/failure-of-imagination.html.

66.   See Mark P. Fancher, Reclaiming Michigan’s Throwaway Kids: Students Trapped in the School-to-Prison Pipeline (Michigan: ACLU, 2011), online at:http://www.njjn.org/uploads/digitaljibrary/ resource_1287.pdf; and Advancement Project, Test, Punish, and Push Out: How “Zero Tolerance” and High-Stakes Testing Funnel Youth into the School-to-Prison Pipeline (Washington, DC: Advancement Project, March 2010), online at: http://www.advancementproject.org/sites/default/flles/publications/rev_fln.pdf.

67.   Gilles Deleuze, “Postscript on the Societies of Control,” October 59 (Winter 1992): 3-7.

68.  Alex Honneth, Pathologies of Reason (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), p. 188.

69.   Bauman, “Has the Future a Left?” p. 2.

70.   Barbara Ehrenreich, “How We Cured The Culture of Pov­erty,’ Not Poverty Itself,” Truthout (March 15, 2012), online at: http:// http://www.truth-out.org/how-we-cured-culture-poverty-not-poverty-itself/1331821823.

71.  This theme is taken up in great detail in Jonathan Simon, Governing through Crime: How the War on Crime Transformed American Democracy and Created a Culture of Fear (New York: Oxford University Press, 2007).

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