March 13, 1979.
Rain continued to pour all day in the city of São Bernardo.
Standing on a soaking wet soccer field, the young president of the metalworkers union was starting to regret his crazy idea.
His fellow union organizers were scrambling to put up a podium. But their plan was already showing signs of weakness.
Maybe most of the other metalworkers won't even show up.
Perhaps Lula would need to call off the general strike after all.
It had been 15 years since a Brazilian military junta took power in the 1964 coup. But for the first time in Lula's adult life, cracks had started to appear in the legitimacy of the dictatorship, and there were signs of a relaxation in their authoritarian rule. General Geisel was scheduled to hand the presidency to another military official named João Figueiredo on March 15, 1979.
Lula hoped for a massive protest to coincide with the transfer of power from one military dictator to the other. (Borune, p.40) Under his leadership, his fellow metalworkers had already gone on strike the previous year. But Lula had gotten the inspiration to launch another strike after watching a soccer match at Morumbi Stadium.
Seeing the fans – with their chants, passion, and team-spirit – Lula became intrigued with the possibilities: "When we can call an assembly that is half the size of this crowd," he mused, "we'll be able to turn the world upside down." (French p.264)
But now, at a smaller soccer stadium in the working class suburb of Vile Euclides, their plan was literally sinking to the ground.
The makeshift platform the organizers had put up on the muddy field had Lula wobbling around as he awkwardly took the stage to launch the rally.
Maybe the rain and his sinking stage was a sign. And Lula began to have second thoughts.
But it was more than the weather that caused Lula to hesitate.
Just days before – when the original plan to launch the general strike was already in motion – Lula had managed to reach a fair agreement with the employers, securing a 40 to 60 percent increase in wages for most of the São Bernardo metalworkers. Perhaps, Lula now thought, it would be best to call off his own original plan and to avoid a strike, which would inevitably lead to police violence, mass arrests, and military occupation.
Then there was his own family to worry about. Lula had already put his wife Marisa and their young children at risk when he became the president of the metalworkers union. A strike would certainly expose them to more trauma and even danger.
When Lula finally managed to get his balance on the teetering podium and started to speak, he quickly noticed that the crowd in the back was already dispersing. The organizers had not been able to set up the microphones or speakers needed for Lula to be heard by all twenty thousand attendees.
Lula was visibly shaken. And those standing in front could see that he was losing confidence. Some tried to reassure him. "Be calm," one person shouted, "no one's in a hurry. Go slowly, Lula, don't be nervous." (French, p.265)
The encouragement worked, and Lula quickly regained his composure. His confidence grew as those in front started to repeat his every word so all those behind could hear. The crowd soon rallied back to him.
But perhaps his listeners got a little too riled up. Before Lula could pitch to his fellow metalworkers that perhaps they should take the deal offered from their employers, the crowd started to shout: "Strike! Strike! Strike!."
And Lula heard them.
Always willing to put aside his personal interests and concerns for his own safety (and the safety of his family) for the sake of the worker's movement. Lula listened to the voices of the people standing in front of him and was determined to give them what they wanted. It was clear that there could be no interest in compromise. There was no backing down now. "So," he announced matter-of-factly, "we are on strike." (Bourne, p.40)
With those words, 3.2 million workers would walk off their jobs in what would be one of the largest demonstrations in Brazil before the eventual fall of the dictatorship.
This is why his fellow workers loved him. Lula after all, had won 97 percent out of twenty-five thousand votes on a slate with fourteen other candidates when he stood for re-election as president of the São Bernardo metalworkers. (Bourne, p.36)
In fact, Lula didn't want to do this. He didn't want any of this. Becoming president of the metalworkers union, nor a life in politics was something he never desired.
Lula was never radicalized by choice. Throughout his early life and before, his political awakening he spent most of his time chasing girls and playing soccer.
In the 1960s, the only member of the Silva family to have become enamored by left-wing politics was Lula's older brother, Frei Chico. Growing up, Lula often made fun of Frei for his political obsession, and he initially dismissed union meetings as a waste of time.
Frei Chico, for his part, was equally baffled by his family and could not understand their sympathy for the 1964 military coup that overthrew Brazil's democratically elected government. But the sentiments of the young Lula and his family were shared by my many members of the Brazilian lower classes who –while certainly not happy with their state – were unwilling to risk what little they had on a democratic dream.
At that point his life, even after having lost a finger in a metal press, Lula was considered one of the luckier ones.
His early memories of life under a democratically elected government included walking long hours to work because he couldn't afford the bus and coming home with an empty stomach because he had skip lunch.
For Lula, and many other working class Brazilians, any change in government, even a military coup, was welcome if it could change the country's economy and improve the conditions of the working class.
While Lula would later change his mind on his initial support for the 1964 coup, he always had a tendency to place priority on material needs (like food and housing), over the more abstract principles of democracy.
While Lula and his brother Frei differed in their interests, they did share a rebellious streak. This youthful inclination to challenge authority would later manifest in their politics. What set the two brothers apart during their younger years was that they were often rebellious for different reasons.
The first time Frei was fired from his factory job, it was after he refused to go to work after the company had reduced his hours. His act of defiance was essentially a one-man strike.
On the other hand, the first time Lula was fired, it was for having stolen money from his boss and skipping work to hang out with his friends at the beach. When Lula tried to make excuses the following day, he had trouble explaining his sudden and obvious tan line. (French, p.75)
But Frei Chico was one of the most important influences leading to Lula's political awakening. Frei recognized and appreciated the natural instincts that led his younger brother to defy his boss – even if those reasons had not been so noble. And so, he eventually convinced Lula to join him at union meetings and to run for union officer. (French, p.95) Lula took Frei's advice and became a full time union official for the São Bernardo metalworkers in 1972. It was the start of his tumultuous life in politics.
It was not a position Lula ever imagined himself for himself. Just a year before he became a union officer, he had already embarked on the plan he made for his life – as a family man.
At 25, Lula married his first love Maria de Lourdes Ribeiro. And Lula was overjoyed when she became pregnant after their honeymoon. But by the seventh month of her pregnancy, she was diagnosed with hepatitis. Neither Maria nor the baby survived.
The loss of his new wife and son was devastating, and for six months Lula would not leave his home except for a weekly visit on Sundays to place flowers on their graves.
The deaths of his wife and child could have been avoided had proper medical care been available, but during the years of the dictatorship Brazil's health service was inadequate and hospitals poorly funded. (Borne, p.24-25)
Lula later remarried Marisa Letícia Casa in 1974, and they would raise four sons together (three of their own and one from Marisa's previous marriage).
Although Lula does not speak of his first marriage very often, the shock clearly never went away. Years later, when he was president, Lula once broke down in tears during an interview as he told how he had purchased baby clothes while on his way to pick up Maria at the hospital on the day she was diagnosed with the disease that would kill her. Lula's later quest for a welfare state must be seen in light of his own painful personal experience with Brazil's inadequate health care system.
And yet, this would be just the first of several radicalizing moments of Lula's early life.
The loss of his wife and child filled him with lasting sorrow; the next one would fill him with rage.
By the mid 1970s Lula's older brother Frei Chico had joined an underground group of communists opposed to the dictatorship. Lula, at the time, lacked a strong interest in the communists and their secret activities, nor was he well read in Marxist teachings. Continuing in his role as union officer, Lula preferred to build a wide coalition and organize out in the open.
He became president of the São Bernardo metalworkers union in 1975.
Despite Lula's disinterest in communism, his brother Frei's activities would, nonetheless, eventually pull him further to the Left in his political outlook.
In October 1976, Lula's brother was arrested in a massive anti-communist sweep conducted by the dictatorship. Frei Chico was tortured on an electric chair.His interrogators wanted him to implicate his brother (the president of the metalworkers union) as fellow communist. Frei spent seventy-eight days in prison. He never cracked. (Bourne, p.28)
Understandably, Lula has described his brother's sacrifice as one of the darkest moments in his life. Both the brutality of his captors and Frei Chico's steadfast refusal to betray his younger brother served to strengthen Lula's commitment to the struggle against the state.
Comparisons can be drawn to another revolutionary from almost a century earlier, when a young Vladimir Lenin witnessed the hanging of his older brother Aleksandr. Outraged, Lenin vowed vengeance against the Russian Czar by turning the whole world upside down. In much the same way, the torture of Lula's brother kindled a similar indignation toward the military regime, one which would place him on his own revolutionary path.
It would take time for Lula's leadership skills to mature enough to handle the great weight of responsibility he now bore in leading millions of workers.
And the earlier years saw many moments of weakness which were out of character for the Lula of later years. Once, for example, when the military threatened Lula with arrest during the strike of 1979, he simply went missing.
When his fellow strike organizers eventually found him, he was at home playing with his children.
It was a temporary lapse in his fervor and dedication, and eventually Lula returned to assume leadership of the metalworkers union, but such moments of weakness remind us that his involvement in the worker's cause constantly required a concerted effort to overcome his innate reluctance to lead. At his core, the man who would become the most popular politician on the planet seems to have wanted nothing more than to be a simple family man. (Bourne, p.41)
Lula's decision to heed the calls for a general strike on the rainy soccer pitch back in 1979 turned out to be the right one. As a result of the strikes, most metalworkers received a 60 percent increase in their wages. This was slightly higher than that offered in the initial pre-strike deal.
But it was clearly not enough.
So in April 1980, the metalworkers walked off the job again. This time, Lula put all his fears aside for the cause and did not flinch at the threat of arrest. allowed himself to be arrested. He even went on a hunger strike when he was in prison, and it took his allies in the Catholic Church to get him to stop after six-days.
Despite Lula's personal determination this time, the momentum for the strike dwindled, and Lula was released after 31 days in prison. Once again, the gains for the workers were modest. For his involvement, Lula was subsequently sentenced by military court to three and a half years in prison. A higher court later annulled the case.
Lula's demonstration of courage in leading the 1980 strike and his willingness to fully assume its risks show us another pivotal moment in his radicalization.
From that point on, Lula's ambitions went beyond the occasional fight for higher wages. He had awakened to the idea that more meaningful changes to the lives of Brazil's working class required the restoration of democracy. He now saw himself as more than a union leader working for his fellow metalworkers. He now saw his quest as nothing less than to plant the seeds of liberty for all his countrymen.
In a touching and symbolic gesture of this new-found purpose, one of the first things Lula did after his release from prison, was to free the caged birds that he had kept in his home. (Bourne, p.44)
While the strikes in 1978 - 1980 were historic and radicalizing events not just for Lula, but for the entire Left in Brazil, they also showed that a new strategy needed to be employed if workers were to make further gains.
Even before the end of the waning military dictatorship in 1985 and the subsequent declaration of a New Republic, Lula had set plans in motion to establish a new political party.
But he was not alone.
There was already a new left-wing party in the works: the Brazilian Social Democratic Party (The PSDB), which formed after a split from the "official" (i.e. legal) opposition party, the Party of the Brazilian Democratic Movement (The PMDB).
But these parties, both the PSDB and the PMDB, were more middle class in their respective voting bases and its founders were mostly liberal intellectuals. Lula saw the need for a party that would work more for the lower and working class.
After first bringing up the idea of forming a Workers Party in 1978, Lula formally founded the Partido dos Trabalhadores (The PT) in February 1980. The party adopted a flag with a five-pointed star as the official party symbol – the flag was sewn by Lula's wife, Marisa, with some spare red, Italian cloth. (Bourne, p.52)
From these modest, literally home-spun beginnings, Lula's worker's party would become -- two decades later -- the largest party in all of Latin America.
After the formation of the New Republic, in 1986, Lula was elected to a post as Federal Deputy in the Lower House of the National Congress, representing the state of São Paulo. During his time as a legislator, Lula championed causes that sought limits on private property, guarantees of a 40-hour workweek, as well as legalized abortion. The latter position angered and alienated many Catholic clergymen who had otherwise been key supporters in Lula's political rise. (Bourne, p.68).
In 1989, Lula ran in Brazil's first direct presidential election in almost thirty years.
His party's manifesto focused on two key issues: defaulting on the national debt and agrarian reform. (Bourne, p.72).
In a surprise to many, Lula clinched a spot in the second, runoff round of the presidential election, narrowly coming in second place in the first round against five other competitive candidates.
Then, as today, there was about a one month period between the first and second rounds in the presidential election. And polls during that time showed Lula quickly gaining ground against his center-right opponent, Fernando Collor. Unlikely as it may have seemed at first, Lula had a clear path to the presidency.
But less than a week before voting in the second round, a major story broke from the other side of the world -- one whose ripple effects would significantly alter the narrative of the 1989 Brazilian presidential election and cause just enough of a change in attitudes to deny Lula his upset victory.
The Berlin Wall fell.
It was soon evident that 1989 was not going to be a good year for socialist candidates.
Lula's road to the presidency came to a dead end.
The damage done by the collapse of the Soviet experiment was aggravated, moreover, by another blunder committed by Lula the day before the election.
Against the wishes of his campaign advisors, Lula thought it would be a good idea to return to Morumbi soccer stadium – the setting for his memorable call for a general strike ten years earlier.
This time, Lula wanted to see the final between São Paulo and Vasco, the visiting team from Rio de Janeiro. As a fan of São Paulo's cross-town rivals, Lula proudly told reporters before the game that he was rooting for the team from Rio.
When the attendees got word of this, Lula was booed off and left at half time with his tail tucked between his legs.
Lula lost in the second round the next day. Collor ended up winning with 53 percent of the vote, and he carried the swing state of São Paulo, the scene of Lula's soccer game debacle.
Still, Lula could at least take some cold comfort in the fact that Vasco did win the championship that year.
Lula's loss in 1989 was followed by two others in 1994 and 1998.
One might imagine that three failed campaigns for the presidency would earn Lula a reputation as a loser. But at the same time, his indomitable determination helped cement his stature as a stubborn fighter who always gets back on his feet after getting knocked down.
This tenacity is one of the personal qualities that make Lula so appealing to many Brazilian voters. In addition to admiring his determination, the public has learned over the years that, at the very least, he is a credible and honest candidate who truly believes in the policies he campaigns on.
When looking at Lula, it is hard not to notice the consistent parallels he shares with many other contemporary socialists who have used the electoral process to launch a political movement. Three that come to mind from Western democracies are Bernie Sanders in the U.S., Jeremy Corbyn in the U.K, and Jean-Luc Mélenchon in France. All are left-wingers who have run for head of state, typically against great odds yet with similar surprising performances. Each has spent decades in government arguing the same things. Their obsessive railing against the "elites" has earned them the label of "populists." And their most passionate support often comes from mostly young voters, leaving those in the mainstream media scratching their talking heads and trying to explain the appeal of socialist candidates among such a cohort, in the post-Soviet era.
But even voters who may not aspire to socialism (or even know what the word means) can still find the appeal in certain left-wing candidates. Voters are drawn to the demonstrable credibility of such politicians, earned through the consistency of their message over many years of public service.
Sanders, Corbyn, Mélenchon and Lula as well as manage to attract voters through their long struggle in the political trenches. These shared qualities are the key to understanding how these scruffy old grumps from the back-benches of government have succeeded in reviving the socialist movement in their respective countries.
The excitement over the collapse of the Berlin Wall and the End of History it was thought to portend -- at least for Socialism -- has waned with the realization that centrism is simply not as popular as it may once have been.
Just because Lula eventually won two presidential elections does not mean the majority of the Brazilian electorate identifies with socialism. On the contrary, Brazil remains a very conservative country in many respects. While about 30 percent of people in the United States describe themselves as secular and without strong religious beliefs, only 8 percent of Brazilians fall into the same category. And as we all know, a strong religious faith often translates into conservative views on various social issues -- abortion, homosexuality, marriage and gender identity – to name a few. And this makes some left-wing positions less than palatable in Brazil.
But politicians like Lula show us that dyed-in-the-wool socialists can still carry a message that outside groups that explicitly identify themselves as socialist.
But the fluidity of popular appeal can move in the reverse direction as well. And this explains how a far-right candidate like Bolsonaro would later defeat Lula's political party by wide margins.
While Lula has a lot in common with Sanders, Corbyn and Mélenchon, there is, of course, one glaring difference, and it is one that I must confess seems to weaken the case for the broad potential appeal of socialist populism.
Sanders, Corbyn, and Mélenchon never actually attained the highest office in their respective countries.
Sanders came close in 2016 and 2020, but fell short in the Democratic primary against both Hillary Clinton and Joe Biden, respectively.
Corbyn may have won his leadership race in a landslide, increased Labour's gains to the highest levels in sixty-years in the 2017 snap election, but he later lost by a landslide in the 2019 race that centered more on Brexit.
Mélenchon's party has made gains, but in the most recent French presidential race, it failed narrowly to progress to the second-round run off.
And yet, somehow it is in Latin America where unlikely leftwing populist grumps manage to beat the odds to reach the highest office in government. Whether it is Evo Morales in Bolivia, Hugo Chavez in Venezuela, or, of course, Lula in Brazil, the Latin American Left appears to have something that the Western leftist populist leaders do not.
It is also even more shocking to think that a socialist beat the odds in the third largest democracy. And that a shoeshine boy became president in the most economically divided country in the world.
It may have taken him four times, but Lula finally did what counterparts like Sanders, Corbyn, Mélenchon could not.
On October 6, 2002, Lula won the first round of the presidential election with a solid 46 percent. October 6, as it so happens, is the date that incorrectly appears on Lula's birth certificate – the result of a clerical error by his father.
On October 27, he defeated the PSDB- and PMDB-backed centrist candidate Jose Serra with 61 percent. The 27th, also happens to be his actual birthday. So how did Lula and the rest of the ‘pink tide' that swept Latin America in the 2000s differ from the other less successful left-wing populists like Sanders, Corbyn and Mélenchon?
To understand the difference we need to get into the nitty gritty of Latin American (Brazilian) politics, and that's when things start to get a little controversial.
After three consecutive losses in presidential elections, Lula was no doubt starting to think that any additional run would probably be his last and that he owed it to his loyal supporters to eventually win. He understood at this point that his pathway to victory ran through the backyards of more centrist middle class voters. He would need to reach out to them without compromising on the core positions that appealed to his working class base.
The base could be counted on to propel him into the second round. But the crucial swing votes in the two-candidate runoff would have to come from centrist middle class voters.
The first major signs in Lula's dramatic shift came in his style of campaigning came in his choice of running mate.
Realizing that many voters were reluctant to support a candidate with only a fourth-grade education, and sensing the need to expand beyond his Catholic base, Lula chose a Protestant, self-made millionaire from the liberal PMDB party named Jose Alencar as his VP pick.
More controversially, Lula also hired an infamous, Roger Stone-like figure named Duda Mendonca as his top political consultant to help Lula produce slick, focus-group-driven political ads. While not compromising on populist themes, Mendonca also helped tweak Lula's rhetoric in subtle yet effective ways.
Words like "workers" and "Capitalists," which had been mainstays of Lula's previous stump speeches, were replaced by less triggering terms like "the common man" and "the elites." (French, p.11)
A clue to the nature of Mendonca's contribution to Lula's new campaign style is provided by an infamous political slogan that he coined while working for a different candidate during a different campaign.
It can be translated into English as something like: "He steals. But he does." Or "He steals. But he delivers."
This simple phrase speaks volumes about the realities of Latin American politics as a whole. It acknowledges and implicitly condones the familiar corruption that accompanies the ability to get things done in government.
It will apply to Lula, who was plagued by allegations of corruption from the moment he became president.
Lula's most ardent supporters, of course, dismiss these suspicions, but Lula's association with those who were undeniably corrupt is an established fact.
Lula's first chief of staff, Jose Dirceu, was arrested in a massive vote buying scheme. Duda Mendonca, as well, would later be charged with running an illegal offshore banking account. From the Energy Minister to his top allies in the Senate, there was no shortage of Lula associates and even friends with some kind of skeleton in the closet.
But what about the man himself? Was Lula corrupt?
Some of the charges against Lula's associates, such as the vote buying scheme, certainly hit close to home. In fact, one PT member has confirmed that Lula was aware of the scheme.
So one might make the case that Lula was, perhaps, tainted by corruption.
But even if allegations of corruption are credible, I believe we can still be forgiving of Lula.
And this is where the second half of the slogan "He steals. But he delivers" can help our understanding.
As the slogan clearly states, what matters is getting things done.
When Lula was inaugurated in 2003, only 91 out of the 513 deputes in the Lower House of the National Legislature belonged to his political party, the PT, and they held zero governorships. (Bourne, p.104)
There was opposition from all sides, including some on the Left who wanted Lula to go further.
From this perspective, we can see why Lula would resort to certain unsavory practices in in his first term. If buying votes by bribing elected officials in other political parties could help him establish the social safety net that Brazil's working class desperately needed, it was a risk worth taking.
For American listeners and viewers, it is worth remembering that even honest Abe Lincoln was not above a form of vote buying when he when he offered plum postings to members of Congress in return for their support for the 13th amendment – the one that ended slavery.
Now, is vote buying, "democratic?" Absolutely not.
But we saw earlier how Lula and many others in the working class cheered for the military during the 1964 coup. That wasn't democratic, either. But when you're hungry and someone promises food, it's best not to scruple. For Lula, more than the protocols of democracy, the needs of the people always came first. There were also times when, although not directly involved in anything shady, Lula had, nonetheless, turned a blind eye towards corruption. And one might criticize him for that.
But Lula's custom of forgiving his friends when they have made a mistake is one of the reasons for his popularity in the first place.
As someone who is naturally gifted at making friends with almost everyone, Lula is by nature always ready to look past someone's faults and offenses, to give them a pat on the back and let bygones be bygones. The downside of this is that it sometimes it means overlooking things that really should not be overlooked – even if done by a friend.
A helpful, historical comparison can be made with a man who, in this respect, is very much Lula's antithesis: the French Revolutionary Maximilian Robespierre.
Robespierre, who has been called "The Incorruptible," was famous for his strict adherence to rules and his intolerance for anyone who defied them. He was known as a stuck up teetotaler with few personal friends. Even with the few friends he did have, Robespierre made no exceptions and did not hesitate to have their heads chopped off at the first hint of corruption.
When Robespierre had cleansed the French Revolution of corruption, he was left isolated, and friendless -- with his own eventual appointment with the guillotine.
While there is something to be said for an unwavering compliance to rules and regulations, Robespierre reminds us that even this virtue can be taken too far.
Inversely, it reveals the (at least) occasional need to look the other way. And this is where Lula finds latitude to ignore the misbehavior of his political friends.
It is also where critics might find the latitude to cut some slack for Lula himself.
After all, even if the worst corruption charges against Lula turn out to be true, it is hard to argue against the public's approval of his accomplishments. While Lula was in office, serving two terms from 2003 to 2010, his accomplishments on behalf of the working class were nothing short of remarkable.
Just 8 months after Obama's called him "the most popular politician on Earth," Lula would end his second term with 87 percent approval rating, making him at least the most popular president on earth. Even after one of the biggest corruption scandals in Brazilian history happened under Lula's administration – the Mensalão scandal that involved vote buying and surviving a threat of impeachment in 2005 – Lula still won reelection in a landslide the following year.
While Lula has faced charges of corruption – a critique that has mostly come from the center and the right-wing – he has also come under scrutiny from some on the Left as well.
There are socialists critics, for example, that like to make unfavorable comparisons between Lula and the leaders of Brazil's neighboring countries. One can argue, that the brand of socialism practiced by men like Hugo Chavez in Venezuela, Rafael Correa in Ecuador, and Evo Morales in Bolivia, was more "red" than Lula's. In fact, Lula's socialism can be described as being a soft-hued "pink tide" when compared to the more vibrant socialist movements in other parts of Latin America.
True, other socialist Latin American leaders of the 2000s were more willing to challenge banking institutions like the IMF. And they have more assertively railed against U.S. hegemony (though it is true that Lula also protested the war in Iraq).
Lula, on the other hand, went out of his way to reassure middle class voters during his first successful campaign (in 2022) that he had abandoned his 1989 pledge to default on the debt. Lula's retreat from this promise even led some members of PT to abandoned the party and form the Socialism and Liberty Party (PSOL).
But the question must be asked: By what metric should a person's socialist credentials be measured? Should they be based on what that person says or promises to do? Or should they be based on the results of their actions?
Should we be looking at the boxes that they say they are going to tick or the boxes that actually get ticked?
Because if we are going to compare their actual accomplishments, then we have to recognize that Lula's Brazil was the only country in all of the Americas where income inequality consistently decreased every year throughout the 2000s (according to the Gini score by the World Bank).
I do not want to downplay the significance of Hugo Chavez, Rafael Correa, and Evo Morales and their impact on Latin America in the 2000s. But the fact remains that even they oversaw economically turbulent years in which inequality actually jumped.
Take Hugo Chavez, for instance. While he succeeded in using oil exports to fund a welfare state and dramatically reduced poverty, he failed to diversify Venezuela's economy. Relying on a single resource commodity to fund the state's welfare program made the entire country dependent on the volatile prices of the international oil market. This was a mistake that Lula avoided in his first term, when he specifically worked to diversify Brazil's exports.
So although one might cherry-pick Lula's socialist shortcomings and say that he could and ought to have gone further, there is no denying that he was more successful than other Latin American leftists in making sure his achievements endured past his presidency.
We saw that early in his life, Lula was not as staunch in his views as his communist brother Frei Chico. But just as he reluctantly launched a general strike in 1979 out of pressure from his fellow workers, Lula was willing to be a radical on the bread and butter issues that every Brazilian could relate to.
Even if he may have backed away from the more radical positions of his first 1989 campaign, Lula's successful 2002 and 2006 presidential campaigns remained focused on food security.
Around the time Lula launched the PT in the 1980s, a study commissioned by the dictatorship found that 70 percent of the population had less than the minimum daily calorie intake necessary for healthy human development. The military even had to turn away as many as 45 percent of those it drafted, due to the failure of the conscripts to meet the minimum requirements for height and weight. (Bourne, p.63).
Although levels of hunger did slowly decrease after the end of the dictatorship, Lula believed the call to eliminate hunger would be the unifying policy that would win over the majority of Brazilians.
In his fourth and successful race, Lula introduced the Fome Zero (Zero Hunger) program. During the eight years in office from 2002 - 2010, he reduced hunger in Brazil by more than half.
He also implemented Bolsa Família, which is the world's largest conditional cash transfer program in the world providing financial assistance to 56 million people.
Despite his focus on literal bread and butter issues, it would be unfair to call Lula a pragmatist.
On the contrary, Lula was a utopian in his presidency and set ambitious goals for himself and his country.
"As long as one Brazilian is hungry, we will have more than enough reason to feel ashamed." Lula declared in his inauguration speech. "If by the end of my presidency, every Brazilian can have breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I will have fulfilled my life's mission," he said.
By the time he left office in 2010, Lula had made much progress toward his goal, though it had not been met entirely.
Yet his life, which was filled with tragedy, twists and turns, was not over, and he would have another chance to continue his work to meet his goal.
Lula's chief of staff in his second term, Dilma Rousseff, would succeed Lula after his second term and would win the presidency in the 2010 Brazilian election with 56 percent of the vote.
In an interview 6 months before the election, Lula started to break down in tears as he proudly listed his government's achievements in the battle against poverty. "I have been more emotional because things are happening." he said.
Even with his inner critic telling him that "it won't give anything, it won't plant, I later realized that the plant sprouts, grows." Before he could finish his sentence, Lula broke down again. "and I'm harvesting …" he said, "I am aware that I am going to hand over another country. A country with fewer poor people."
But Lula would not be harvesting for long.
In 2016, during her second term, Dilma Rousseff was impeached for her involvement in a money laundering scandal. She had been betrayed and replaced by her PMDB VP, Michel Temer, who himself was later caught and charged with corruption.
In the wake of the scandals of Rousseff's administration, support for the Worker's Party poll numbers plummeted, with Lula alone having approval ratings high enough to give the PT a fighting chance in the 2018 presidential election. In the middle of the biggest scandal in Brazilian history, Lula was called for duty once again.
But a right-wing court used the fiasco surrounding his successor as an opportunity to bring down Lula once and for all. If he was too popular to defeat at the ballot box, perhaps they could use corruption charges similar to those they had brought against Rousseff. The case against Lula was flimsy, but it succeeded.
On July 12, 2017 – just five months after his second wife Marisa passed away – Lula was sentenced to over 9 years in prison.
April 8, 2018.
This was the day former president Lula was to hand himself over to authorities to begin his nine-year sentence.
Lula would need to push his way through a crowd of his own supporters who had made a human barricade around the union building he was in. But Lula was resolved to drink the Hemlock.
He would turn himself in and end the growing standoff between his supporters and the police.
Looking at the crowd below, it must have come back to him: the way it had all started in 1979.
Then, too, when he agreed to launch a general strike he was torn between what he believed was best and the sentiment of his fellow workers.
Now, 40 years later, he faced a similar dilemma.
As hard as it would be to turn himself in – and potentially put a close to his life's work – Lula had endured painful experiences in the past: from the weeks of torture his brother had endured for him, to the tragic deaths of his two wives.
This would still not be the hardest thing he ever had to do. This wouldn't even be his first time in jail.
But going against the voices of his supporters -- whether on a soccer field or union hall?
That was a newer challenge.
"We will stay! We will stay!" Lula's supporters chanted, facing the police.
Lula gazed down.
As it was 40 years earlier, Lula didn't want any of this.
"Lula: Warrior of the Brazilian People!"
"Lula: Warrior of the Brazilian People!"
The pleas were hard to ignore.
But this time, Lula could not give the people what they wanted.
"Lula: Don't turn yourself in!."
"Lula: Don't turn yourself in!"
He had always acted on behalf of the people first, but this time, Lula had to finally speak for himself.
It was after all, his continued optimism that has made him so popular to begin with. He wasn't sure, but he could at least tell them he will be back.
"Lula, Lula, Lula!"
Be calm, no one's in a hurry. Go slowly, Lula, don't be nervous.
Would it have been honest to try to reassure them? Perhaps not. But like any loving father, he had a duty to his children.
But that is not the end of Lula's story.
After 18 months, on November 9th, 2019 Lula walked out of prison.
The supreme court had ruled that the evidence against Lula had been insubstantial and the judge that sentenced him had been politically biased. Lula will not rest.
He has not yet fulfilled his mission. The people of Brazil call his name as they continue to go hungry under Bolsonaro.
On October 30, 2022, in the second round of the historic Presidential race against far-right Jair Bolsonaro, Lula may finally have his harvest.
*Please note that inconsistencies between the above transcript and the actual recording are inevitable (though hopefully slight).
© 2024, James Taichi Collins