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At the beginning of the week, many people did question of showing his repulsion and even disgust with President Jair Bolsonaro. Which, in a highly debatable communication effort, appeared in a video getting all smeared with farofa. Faced with the somewhat grotesque image and without a clear political semiotics, more than one personality has rushed to use the usual exclamations and come to the convenient conclusion that we need a new savior – even if that “savior” is that old man with a hoarse voice.
Maybe I miss putting my foot on the periphery, but the fact is that I also I didn’t understand the purpose of Bolsonaro’s farofada. Was it to show that the Chief Executive, the one who does not command anything, is “people like us”? Was it a message that the President of the Republic doesn’t care about the liturgy of the position or other “exemption frills”? Or was it a sophisticated critique of democracy that my tired and clean spirit was not able to understand?
Be that as it may, it surprises me that there are more people disgusted with the palpable and harmless dirt of Jair Bolsonaro than with the rhetorical rubbish loaded with frightening intentions that Minister Luis Fux uttered at the opening of the legal year. “Surprises me”, in this case, is just the way of saying it. After all, since at least 2019 it is clear that, for the intellectual elite of this country, aesthetic affectation is much more important than any serious analysis of the real intentions of this “honorary people” that governs us.
As he had done in December, at the pathetic closing ceremony of the STF’s work, Luiz Fux opted for a self-congratulatory political speech. The self-congratulation part is nothing new. After all, the Judiciary is today an institution composed essentially of revolutionaries who do not want to lose their pomp. Imagine a Marie Antoinette, but replace the infamous brioche legend with the impassioned speech (pouting) of a Marat talking about stale bread but stuffed with brioche. I think you can get an idea, right?
Following the flattering protocol of the institution he presides over, Luiz Fux began his speech by citing the authorities present. As the names were mentioned, I couldn’t help but think how much the Federal Supreme Court, the highest court in Brazil, has shrunk, reducing itself to an opposition party that counts with names like Felipe Santa Cruz and Ayres Britto in their ranks. In this regard, Bolsonaro’s farofada looks much more decent than the ceremonial revolution proposed by Fux.
Tapuia, condor or tapir?
Bragging again of its performance in the face of the Covid pandemic- (a subject “ of high scientific and constitutional complexity”, in the words of the minister), Fux ran his hand through his own vast hair and, in a self-caress for the “effort we made to save lives”. Not without first mentioning the “immeasurable” work of the STF in the fight against “extreme poverty and social inequality” and in the fight for “the environment and sustainable development”. Does Fux not have a single friend to warn that these guidelines, distorted by the left and reduced to mere platform jargon, are not (or should not be) attributions of a court like the STF?
Here came the most disgusting and frightening part of the speech. It was when Fux gave life to a phrase by the recently deceased professor Olavo de Carvalho that has been circulating on the networks: the mediocre man believes not in what he sees, but in what he learns to say. Here I almost feel compelled to use the hashtag #Olavotemrazão. Because it does. When talking about democracy and freedom of expression, the same STF that, presided over by Fux, allowed us to have people arrested for crimes of opinion, had the courage, no! where differences coexist freely, “without fear of censorship”.
In this moment, I was still in doubt. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In the indecision, I was surprised by a real call to arms that opened up the revolutionary, even Bolivarian, character of the Federal Supreme Court. After mentioning “Os Miseráveis”, a proto-communist work by Vitor Hugo, and quoting Fernando Pessoa as if the Portuguese poet were a simple petistinha who won the Açorianos Prize, Luiz Fux decided to do nothing less than a call to arms. To this end, he mentioned the poet Gonçalves Dias and his “Canção do Tamoio”:
Don’t cry, my son;02090023
Don’t cry, may life
It’s a close fight:
To live is to fight.02090023
Life is combat, May the weak slaughter, 02090023 )02090023May the strong, the brave
You can only exalt.
