Ten Years Without Chico

Posted: 01-Jun-1999; Updated: 27-May-2009

by Ricardo Arnt
author and journalist, winner of the prestigious Maria Moor Cabot award

In June of 1987, after returning from the United States, where he had gone to pressure the Inter American Development Bank (IDB) to halt loans for environmentally destructive development projects in the Amazon, Chico Mendes was called to Brasilia by General Bayma Denys, the powerful Minister of the Military Cabinet of the Presidency. The two knew one another from afar. The general knew all about Chico's former activities as a militant of the clandestine Communist party and as a rural unionist interested in environmentalism. Chico knew that he knew. And he knew about the General's role during the military dictatorship and his influence over the intelligence agencies.

Many union leaders would have refused the invitation, but Chico didn't hesitate. Unbeknownst to the press -- this is the first time this story has been told -- the meeting took place in Brasilia in June of 1987. It lasted an hour and was very cordial. Chico was favorably surprised and, presumably, so was the General. Denys opened the conversation by recognizing the historic contribution the rubber tappers of Acre had made to the defense of Brazil's Amazon borders. And he asked how the government could help the National Council of Rubber Tappers, which Chico had organized. Chico didn't say yes and he didn't say no. He avoided committing himself. He preached sustainable development and the creation of the Extractive Reserves. And he said goodbye, promising to send the General proposals.

It was a perfect charade. In fact, Denys knew that Chico was engaged in blocking international loans to Brazil. And the union leader knew that his steps, in Acre as well as in Washington were being watched. For just this reason, he thought they should meet and talk.

I recall this meeting, ten years later, to highlight one of Chico Mendes? personality traits that impressed me: his intuition. Like many other popular leaders in the Amazon, Chico could have parked in an obscure Latin American Marxism, consumed by the class struggle against the latifundia and revolutionary delirium. But his intuition projected him forward. Without ceasing to be what he was, he perceived that in a country like Brazil, "revolutionary" would be to link rural unionism with environmentalism, a task still today not entirely understood by other rural unionists -- those in Brazil's Landless Workers' Movement, for example.

Without being intimidated, he accepted unforeseen partnerships, absorbed new concepts, broadened his vision of the world and established innovative alliances with urban unionists, with middle class environmentalists -- even with foreign "gringos," whose influence on public opinion he immediately understood. He actively manipulated images and discourse. He was never the passive object of others' interests. To the contrary, he pursued, persistently, his own objectives and succeeded in projecting his struggle, the socio-environmental drama of Acre, into the center of Brazilian concerns, under the lens of world public opinion.

Some analysts claimed, after his death, that he had suppressed his "red" committments by emphasis on "green" discourse. If this criticism were true, Chico would never have been murdered.

The greatness of this tragic death, prepared by backwardness and by the latifundia, revealed a whole new political agenda to the Brazilians: Amazonia, environmentalism, conservation, sustainable development and biodiversity. It imposed a concern with the environment in the planning of development. It established, where it had not existed before, environmental authority. It mobilized public opinion for the defense of tropical forests. It brought resources and multiplied capacities.

In 1990, there were 18 people who were capable of dealing with the management of moist tropical forests in Brazil. The largest tropical forest country in the world was about to enter the 21st century as a forest illiterate. Large part of the knowledge of the Amazon belonged to foreign universities. And vital Brazilian institutions, such as the National Institute for Amazon Research, the Goeldi Museum or the Agrarian research Center of the Humid Tropics were reduced to penury. This picture has changed. The number of Brazilian researchers in tropical ecology has grown greatly. The profile of the Amazonian non-governmental organizations has also changed, becoming increasingly more technically and scientifically sound. And forester Jorge Viana, an ex-advisor of Chico's, was in October elected Governor of the state of Acre -- by a landslide.

Not that the environmental scenario in Brazil inspires optimism. Far from it. Hostage to an endless economic crisis, prisoner of enormous deficits, unpayable debts and stratospheric interest rates, the Brazilian State is increasingly losing its "governability," its capacity to govern. Economic policies require austerity, privatization of state enterprises, containment of spending and budget cuts. Recession and unemployment grow and resources for social investments diminish. Even less is left over for defense of the environment.

I find myself imagining Chico Mendes' response to these afflictions. What would he say to us now?