Like false cognates in linguistics, easy generalizations about parallels in national development can be dangerous to objective analysis. But the similarity in historical experience between Brazil and the United States is striking in several respects. The early dominance of a slave and plantation economy, a dynamic frontier psychology, and nineteenth century emergence of industrialism are common to both countries. Ethnically, the social pluralism of red, black, and white admixtures also occurred in both cultures—albeit with unique results in each. Large migrations of people from Eastern Europe and the Orient affected both societies. Finally, the long and close relationship which both nations enjoyed with Great Britain provides a basis of economic and cultural community. Unlike the Spanish Americans, Brazilians were not originally an urban people. Coincident with the settlers of North America, they tended to live on their own farms, displaying a sense of rugged individualism which colors the contemporary industrial surge. Only in the last generation have Brazilians begun massive urban migrations, paralleling the postwar U.S. phenomenon.
For all these reasons, analysis of the Brazilian experience is often clarified by reference to the United States. And the obverse is also true. The high development of corporate society in the United States has received scant attention by social scientists in the last generation. Therefore, the impact upon Brazil of the corporate state, deliberately borrowed from Italy by Vargas’ Estado Novo, contains lessons which we surely should learn. The anti-democratic consequences of corporate control are clearly delineated by Neale J. Pearson in his “Small Farmer and Rural Worker Characteristics in the Emergence of Brazilian Peasant Pressure Groups, 1955-1968,” one of the best essays in this slim volume. Pearson’s study is trenchant and full of insights. Not the least of these are the clear implications for democratic political development of educational and medical benefits. The healthy and educated electorate still stands as the major support of an open society.
Pearson’s reference to the “Brazilian political game” which forbids “elimination of other groups from the political process” seems incongruous in the face of the military dictatorship ruling Brazil since 1964. But it is true that political assassination—either literally or figuratively—is not a normative social value in Brazil as it is in many Spanish American countries. It is the predisposition to tolerance of dissent which has nurtured the still, small flame of democracy throughout Brazilian history despite recurrent periods of repression.
Brazilian militarism is unique, though, as Frank McCann points out in his “The Military and Change in Brazil.” He terms it “brasilitarismo,” and notes the essentially reformist character of the current regime. The heavy social science curriculum at the Escola Superior de Guerra, established in 1949, is credited with producing a more socially conscious military officer. The model of Mussolini’s social development policies lurks ominously in the background, however.
Armin K. Ludwig intimates why recurrent militarism marks the national history of Brazil in his “The Kubitschek Years, 1956-61: A Massive Undertaking in a Big Rush.” The impulse for breath-taking risk, for daring machismo, polarizes the democratic elements—particularly when the failures are as spectacular as Brasília. The failure of bourgeois democracy in Latin America stems from a lack of social consensus. That failure invites the advent of strong-armed elements to keep the nation running irrespective of the long-term socio-political consequences.
Yet democratic consensus has a more solid base in the rapidly industrializing south of Brazil than anywhere else in South America. This economic strength, like a ferment, stimulates the growth of authentic democratic institutions. The finest study in the book is “The Agricultural Frontier in Modern Brazilian History: The State of Paraná, 1920-1965” by William H. Nicholls, which traces the explosion of development outward from São Paulo. The rise of small free-holders, so essential to democratic government, is an integral part of the story Nicholls tells.
A companion paper to Nicholls’ is that by R. Herbert Minnich, “Developing Democrats: Sociocultural Change among the Brazilian Mennonites.” The acculturation of these Russian emigrés to Brazilian life is essentially the loosening of ghetto organization into a less defensive and more reciprocal social posture. The revolt of young Mennonites against the absolute conformity (called “cooperation”) of sectarian norms shows clearly the secularization process required for survival in the Brazilian environment. The resulting cultural pluralism is a source of strength for the entire nation.
A final chapter treats that indicator of technological modernism—engineering education. This is Richard L. Cummings’ “Transformations in Brazilian Engineering Education: An Indicator of Modernity.” The adaptation of training to the demands of contemporary development has been slow because of the historic place of education as a badge of social distinction rather than a development tool. The traditional dominance in Brazil of civil over mechanical and electronic engineering is well known. Unfortunately, Cummings emphasizes statistics more than curricular development so that little is known about the quality of studies. The extent of automotive, petroleum, mining, and nuclear engineering remains a tantalizing question. The problem is suggested, however, by the statement that, “the number of students in engineering courses exceeded the number in medical courses for the first time in 1960.” The lengths to which Brazil must yet go in developing its technical educational base is clear.
Author notes
The opinions expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily represent policy or viewpoint of the United States Department of Health, Education, and Welfare.
