This text is dedicated to Eduardo Bolsonaro. Who, without even taking notice of my little person, and totally oblivious to my insignificant anguish, took a plane, stayed in a comfortable hotel, wore an official shirt of the Brazilian National Team and allowed himself to be registered during the game between Brazil and Switzerland for the World Cup of the World of Qatar. And, in this way, with this politically admirable gesture of surrender, he gave me the peace of mind that I had been looking for.
Because – I’ll tell you! – I could no longer bear the tense uncertainty resulting from the demonstrations in front of the barracks, the mobilization on social networks, the presidential silence and the endless tick-tock, now go, believe in the strategy, we are going to win. I’m naive, I admit. Fool, if you will. And I harbor confused hopes. Or rather, nutria.
After all, it was thanks to this appearance by the son of the president and federal deputy elected with the vote of more than 700 thousand people that I was finally able to understand that what is at stake in Brazil is not freedom. Much less tradition, family or property. Still less virtue, honor, disinterested concern for the common good. What is at stake in Brazil is a great nothing that, despite the current ebullition, tends towards cynical normality.
Glimpsing Eduardo Bolsonaro’s relaxed smile next to a beautiful woman, a costumed character and his wife, I also relaxed and immediately got rid of the politically macabre fantasies that, sort of by osmosis, I’d fed in the last few days. I recommend, by the way, that you do the same. If not even the president’s son is concerned about the juristocracy or the Venezuelanization of Brazil, why would I, you, we be?
Eduardo Bolsonaro’s qualified supporters in the Qatar Cup were, in fact, , a watershed for me. Just look at how things are: until yesterday I resisted the cynical narrative that in Brazil crime happens, nothing happens feijoada. I thought I was living a decisive moment. Sometimes even apocalyptic. He went around asking questions and assertions seasoned with a generous dash of desperation. “Bolsonaro will be arrested!” in an hour. “Brazil can handle Alexandre de Moraes until 2043?!” in the other.
Today, however, I can say that, thanks to Eduardo Bolsonaro’s restorative cold water bath, I find comfort in the certainty that the future that awaits us from January 1st is scary , but at least clear and rectilinear: Lula will preside over Brazil for the third time. Let’s deal with this reality that, if it doesn’t scare Eduardo Bolsonaro, it has no reason to scare us.
It’s not about throwing in the towel. Even because this endless fight is for expensive values. Dearest. It’s more like taking a deep breath, closing our eyes and asking God for the strength to face the challenges that await us after we turn the page on this massive dystopia with an air of chanchada that we call Brazil.
