In the world that rules the country, Oruam’s mischievous rhetoric wins over Dona Joelma’s desperate cry

Another thing we know: the State cannot give up territorial control. A recent study showed that close to a quarter of our population lives in areas with strong crime control. We are at the top of Latin America in this regard. That’s exactly what we saw. Favelas in Rio function as a kind of state of nature, and it is no coincidence that surveys show strong support from their residents for the operation. At the base of society, there is a desire for order. In the idealized world of a certain elite, an irresponsible glamorization of violence still prevails. The guy who lives in Ipanema, ends the night at Sushi Leblon and asks, between one cup and another, for the “demilitarization of the Military Police”. A glamorization of the marginal universe that comes from the depths of our culture. The thin line between the trickster, the hero and the criminal. From “be marginal, be hero”, in Hélio Oiticica’s work about the bandit Cara de Cavalo. Basically, the ethical deviation is condoned. Violence that, from a distance, doesn’t sound that violent. People’s lives are hell, in the real world, but sometimes serve as an exotic destination, on a summer Sunday.

Its first cousin is the Oruam philosophy. “My father is a reflection of society,” he says, speaking of Marcinho VP, of Comando Vermelho, and one of the most dangerous criminals in Brazil. The phrase applies to anything. But, used to justify crime and our inertia towards violence, it becomes the perfect trap. His denial came from Joelma, Artur’s mother, a young drug dealer who was lucky enough to be arrested during the operation. “You are not a victim of society! You are a victim of your choices!”, she shouted to her son, head down, in the corner of a police station. The way only a mother can say it, she said that she believed in him, that poverty did not produce crime, that there was room for choice and individual responsibility.

That’s the same thing I think about Brazil. Victim of your own choices. If crime took over the favela, it’s because we were slipping, on our own, like Artur. And not for lack of warning. The point is that in the world that runs the country, Oruam’s mischievous rhetoric easily wins over Dona Joelma’s desperate scream. And this shouldn’t be like this.