How Brazilians understand democracy

The romanticization that sectors of the Brazilian left make of self-proclaimed socialist autocracies such as Cuba and Venezuela and the corresponding support and tolerance by a large part of the right for authoritarians such as the former military dictatorship, the Pinochet government and leaders such as Trump and Bolsonaro are illustrative of a facet quite uncomfortable aspect of the national political culture: we have serious problems with democracy.

Research indicates that, although we have managed to build an institutional framework from a formal and procedural point of view since redemocratization, this has not been accompanied by a corresponding democratic political culture [1]. Even though the experience of living under a democratic regime—especially during the years of economic boom—had a positive effect, it was insufficient to consolidate values ​​and attitudes compatible with liberal democracy in the population [2–4].

If, on the one hand, Brazilians say they support democracy when asked directly, on the other hand, they present a series of inconsistencies when asked more specifically about the norms, principles and values ​​that support it [1][5-10]. Contradictions include support for democracy without Congress and parties, tolerance for practices such as corruption and abuse of power if committed for reasons considered noble, and agreement with ideas such as allowing a government to disregard laws or even become an autocracy to solve problems. such as economic crises, crime and corruption. Research indicates that, while supporting the participatory aspect of democracy (voting, demonstrations and activism, for example), Brazilians have little appreciation for what actually makes this regime possible, such as representative institutions (Congress and parties) and procedures (rule of law).

This attitudinal incoherence regarding democratic foundations coexists with an immense distrust of institutions—especially representative ones. This distrust, in turn, is closely linked to the low level of satisfaction with the regime, which depends more on satisfaction with concrete elements, such as economic performance and the fight against crime and corruption, than with the practical realization of abstract principles and values. that underlie and enable full liberal democracy [6][11][12]. The very low trust in political parties, in particular, is correlated with a very low interpersonal trust and is slightly higher among both the very rich and the very poor [6][8].

Corroborating intuition, research also indicates that greater education increases the chance of voters supporting democracy, consuming information about politics and participating in political activities [13]. On the other hand, higher education is also associated with lower satisfaction with democracy, in addition to not affecting trust in parties [8]. Complementarily, post-materialist values, referring to issues such as individual and minority rights, are also linked to greater participation—including in parties—and less trust in institutions, but it is difficult to pinpoint causality (i.e., do they produce adherence to democracy), as they are present in only a small part of the population and have a strong correlation with income and education [14-18]. Another factor is age: the older the voter, the more likely they are to support authoritarian measures such as the closure of Congress—and this is even worse the higher the income [19].

Despite the low politicization of the majority of the population [20] and the total distrust in parties, Brazilian political culture since redemocratization is also affected by partisanship and its dual, anti-partisanship (or negative partisanship). In Brazil, the dynamics involving these feelings have occurred around one party in particular, the PT, which was the only one that managed to significantly create an emotional/identity connection with a considerable part of the electorate [21-23]. In reaction to this, an anti-PT identity also emerged, especially in the South and Southeast regions and among the white electorate, with higher income and education, which defines itself ideologically as being center-right or right-wing. The rejection of the PT, however, did not translate into an affinity of the anti-PT voter with other parties—in other words, voting for these parties was always more of a vote against the PT than a sincere vote, aligned with its values. Although anti-PTism remains stronger, more recently, anti-partisanship has expanded beyond the PT, also targeting other parties and the “system” as a whole—and this has occurred at the same time as partisanship, almost exclusively PT and superior. to anti-PTism, it lost strength and was surpassed by anti-partisanship [23-25].

Interestingly, despite the growth of animosity between PT and anti-PT members, surveys indicate that there is more ideological convergence in the electorate than divergence—especially after the PT took a turn to the right when Lula assumed the presidency in 2002 [23][26][27]. Polarization, therefore, is more affective — that is, linked to a more intense emotional bond with the group itself (which can be either a party or a mere ideological label, such as “right”, “left”, “conservative”, “liberal”, etc.) and a greater aversion to others—than ideological or programmatic. It is also asymmetrical to the right: while the left and center remained in the same place, the number of people who did not know how to position themselves on the ideological spectrum increased and the right moved further to the extreme and grew, with more than 40% of the electorate adopting this label in 2018 compared to less than 30% in 2014. It is also notable that anti-partisanship—in both its anti-PT and rejection of all parties variants—was accompanied by a strong growth in political intolerance, amplifying its effect [24]. In 2019, in turn, almost 58% of Brazilians had antipathy towards at least one party and 47.5% had intolerance—that is, more than half of the population demonstrated negative attitudes towards political parties, with a large part of these people being even opposed to for parties they don't like to participate in the political game.

According to research on polarization [28], the most polarized voter tends to have a distorted view of both objective reality, which is perceived in a favorable way to their group, and rival groups, which are seen as more extreme than they really are, and of his own, which has its virtues exaggerated. In addition to burning bridges of dialogue and encouraging the usual conspiracy theories (São Paulo Forum, communism, globalism, CIA influence, “baron” of this or that, fake stabbing, and so on), this is behind behaviors such as greater credibility and punitiveness in relation to allegations of corruption made against opponents 9 and has concrete electoral effects: in 2018, for example, anti-party supporters—and, in particular, anti-PT supporters—were much more likely to vote for Bolsonaro, especially if they were also intolerant [24][29].

Taking as a basis the large number of apolitical voters with no party preference [20][27] and the correlation between income, education, greater engagement and greater consumption of political information (quality or not), it is reasonable to assume that the traditionally more polarized voter would be mainly the elite. As of 2018, however, there are indications that this polarization may have spread to other sectors of society through an expansion of the anti-PT camp, evidenced by the increase in the electorate that defines itself as right-wing and the conquest of lower and middle-income voters. education—who traditionally vote for the PT—for Bolsonaro [26][30]. Furthermore, as in the case of the propensity for authoritarianism, there is evidence that older voters tend to be more polarized—both to the left and to the right—, with the expected consequence of greater consumption and dissemination of fake news, greater engagement with hyperpartisan websites and online spaces and greater participation in protests and demonstrations (younger people, on the other hand, tend to get their information based on the mainstream press) [28][31].

This entire mix of political intolerance, incoherent values ​​and beliefs, high suspicion of institutions and relativization of abstract fundamental principles to concrete objectives naturally leads to the questioning of what Brazilians actually understand by democracy. When asked directly about this, however, most voters define democracy more in terms of freedoms and rights or procedures and institutions than in terms of what democracy produces (e.g., employment, access to health and education, public services, equal opportunities, etc.) [32]. This suggests that the average Brazilian has at least some understanding of what democracy is, so that their expression of adherence to it goes beyond a simple repetition of what they know to be considered the “correct” opinion. The incoherent attitudes, however, demonstrate that both understanding and adherence to democracy occur in some dimensions, but not in others—that is, they are partial, based on the internalization of only some principles and values ​​that coexist with others that can be undemocratic and illiberal.

One of the illiberal values ​​that characterize Brazilian political culture is its personalist character , which consists of the greater weight given by the population to specific leaders than to parties, ideas and government programs. Put in more Weberian terms, this means that, for Brazilians, the legitimacy of authority would come more from charismatic aspects of the leader than from other factors such as legislation, tradition or even performance. This can be observed empirically in historical legitimacy data from the V-Dem democracy index —displayed in Figure 1—, which show how charismatic legitimation appeared in authoritarian and democratic governments such as those of Getúlio Vargas (1930-1945; 1951-1954) , Jânio Quadros (1961), Lula (2003-2010) and Jair Bolsonaro (2019-).

Figure 1: Sources of legitimacy

This personalistic characteristic is consistent with the contradictory notions of democracy that involve an Executive inflated in relation to the other powers, culminating in the idea of ​​a democracy without parties and without Congress. Institutionally, this would translate into a conception of democracy that would involve strong leaders who, once elected, alone would represent the people and essentially be the government, having a mandate to do whatever they want without limitations of any kind, with other institutions potentially being viewed as obstacles to the exercise of their legitimate power. This understanding of democracy, quite strong in Latin America in general, corresponds to what Argentine political scientist Guillermo O'Donnell called delegative democracy, which consists of the illiberal idea of ​​democracy as the popular election of a leader who gains the right to act virtually as an elected dictator until the end of his term [33]. In today's Brazil, this means that when Bolsonaro supporters take to the streets calling for the closure of the STF and Congress, they truly believe that they are fighting for democracy despite calling for the closure of the institutions that make it possible.

It is interesting to note how this distorted notion of democracy and other illiberal theses are not necessarily incongruous with Brazilians' definition of democracy as principles and institutions, but have implications for what principles and institutions these would be and what value is given to them . The acceptance of a dictatorship or an Executive that tramples on other powers to solve economic problems or fight against crime and corruption are facets of this, showing how even if Brazilians know that these attitudes are undemocratic or illiberal, they are willing to sacrifice precepts fundamental in the name of concrete objectives. This demonstrates, at the same time, the low level of satisfaction with the state of things in Brazilian politics (and life) and the equally low internalization of liberal and democratic precepts. In other words, there is no perception of fundamental values, principles and rights as being inviolable, inalienable and non-negotiable.

This low internalization of liberal and democratic principles by the population and their potential to relativize them in the name of what they perceive to be a greater good also ends up affecting the behavior of the political elite, who also do not have these values ​​adequately internalized. This means that members of this elite—which includes not only politicians, but also authorities such as bureaucrats, members of the Judiciary, members of the Public Ministry, among others—often ignore the principles and objectives that underlie the institutions they occupy and use these institutions. in an instrumental way to achieve their political, personal, corporate and party objectives without being punished or charged by other institutions (in a functional system of checks and balances) or by the precariously democratic population. Quite the opposite often happens: their corruption of institutions can even be celebrated if it benefits some group or is perceived as being done for some greater good (e.g., combating corruption). This absence of the psychological barrier represented by an adequate internalization of democratic foundations leads not only to this misuse of institutions, but also to harmful attitudes towards democracy, such as corruption, abuse of power and what Tushnet called constitutional hardball, which consists of in actions that, even without being illegal, challenge democratic norms [34][35]. It also produces two frequently cited characteristics of national political culture: the amoral pragmatism of the struggle for power and the treatment of the public as if it were private (i.e, patrimonialism).

The Bolsonaro government and everything that surrounds it are, obviously, the most recent and clear example of our deficit in democratic and liberal thought. Neither the current president, nor the politicians who associate with him in an instrumental way, nor his most faithful followers nor those who tolerate, minimize and relativize his frequent anti-democratic outbursts and coup threats for the sake of some greater good are democrats. Bolsonaro, in particular, has demonstrated not only that he has a distorted, delegative and primitive notion of democracy and freedom and liberalism, but he has also proven that he does not have the slightest understanding of the role and importance of democratic institutions—and that includes the one he occupies. The democratic deficit, however, is not exclusive to the Bolsonarist right. On the progressive left—and not just on the extreme left—many are unable to accept the pluralism that is essential for a democracy. They want to impose on society, as a moral imperative, total adherence to their values ​​and programmatic preferences and voting for their candidates. They grant themselves a monopoly on virtue and good intentions and do not accept discordant thoughts as legitimate, exchanging dialogue and persuasion for aggressive imposition. In the end, both sides have an idea of ​​democracy in which there are no disagreements, where there is a single notion of Good and Right and therefore only absolute consensus is acceptable. But this is not democracy.

Democracy goes beyond voting and participation. It is, in essence, a way of mediating conflicts that allows groups and individuals with radically different worldviews to coexist through the replacement of violence with a set of rules accepted by all. Only with total and uncontested subscription to these rules is it possible to establish what political scientist Robert Dahl called a system of mutual security, which consists of establishing a minimum of trust between everyone, so that one does not see the other as a existential threat and peacefully accept their existence and participation in the political game [36]. We can discuss political reforms based on different institutional models, but until we have a democratic population—and, in particular, a democratic elite —we will hardly be able to build a democracy worthy of the name.