A Drought Ravages Northeast Brazil
By Kathleen Bond
[http://www.globalexchange org/campaigns/brazil/economy/drought.html]
The last drop of rain fell on the rural community of Juarzerinho,
in Brazil's northeast state of Paraíba on November 16, 1997. A trip
to Juarzerinho eight months later found signs of the drought everywhere.
Large tracts of land, normally full of corn, sweet potato and manioc, were
overrun by a cactus called palma. The constant search for water was evident
as women carried tin cylinders on their heads and people pushing wheelbarrows
lined up at wells in the centers of small towns in search of the precious
resource. At year's end, the drought has not abated, and palma, used for
cattle feed and only as a last resort for human consumption, is virtually
the only crop that has survived.
In the midst of what is perhaps the worst drought of the century,
9.5 million people are on the verge of starvation in Brazil's northeast,
a semi-arid region of nine states and 45 million inhabitants. The
impact of this drought has been exacerbated not only by the effects of El
Niño, but by the already-existing misery caused by a severe
maldistribution of resources. Brazil is the world's tenth-largest economy
and a net exporter of agricultural products, but a mere 1% of the
Brazilian population holds 47% of the arable land. Large tracts have historically
been left idle for speculation. Though the 1988 Constitution guarantees
land reform, large landowners have used their close ties to the political
elite to block progress on its implementation. Under such conditions,
when large numbers of people have nothing to fall back on, drought becomes
famine.
The drought came as no surprise. Since August 1997, various climatic research
institutes including the Brazilian National Meteorological Institute have
been predicting extremely low rainfall for 1998. By April 1998, a federal
report was warning the country to prepare for what could be the worst drought
of the century. The administration of Fernando Henrique Cardoso was slow
to take preventive steps such as drilling more artesian wells or completing
abandoned irrigation projects. Underground water sources are extensive,
but--indicating the political nature of the famine--they remain largely untapped.
As the drought continues, many of the hungry farmers of Juarzeirinho have
sought refuge in Brazil's large urban centers. Others have stayed on the
land waiting stubbornly for the rains to come. For long-time farmer Rivaldo
Jose de Oliveira, who has elected to stay, the struggle to survive without
rain is not new. He has lived through eight droughts, though he admits that
this one is particularly severe. The soil of his 32 acres of land is so poor
that even during years of good rainfall only a tiny portion is used for corn
and sweet potatoes for his family's consumption. His land does not produce
enough to survive on so, like almost all of the small farmers in this area,
he works for a large landholder. "We do all the work and give him a third
of our crops," he says. "We haven't produced an edible crop in over a year.
Now the only thing that grows is palma, which I feed to my six cows."
Of Oliveira's 15 children, the three oldest have already left for São
Paulo. Their frequent remittances help the family survive along with the
$100 monthly income of another daughter who is the local school teacher.
When asked why he stays, Oliveira says that despite the constant struggle
for survival and the too-little, too-late government relief efforts, his
life has always been in Juarzeirinho. "We suffer just as our ancestors did,"
he says, "but I stay because I love the land."
When the drought set in, so did the desperation of the poor. Hungry
people started raiding schools and grocery stores for food. The Movement
of Landless Workers (MST), a militant organization supported by Catholic
lay leaders, religious workers and some bishops, played a leading role in
organizing the raids to pressure the government to take some action to aid
the poor. MST raids have since leveled off, but were frequent occurrences
early in the year. Throughout the Northeast, 110 such raids were reported
through the end of last May.
The response of the Catholic Church to the drought has been unusually strong.
Speaking at last April's Assembly of the National Conference of Bishops,
Archbishop Dom Marcelo Pinto Carvalheira of the Archdiocese of João
Pessoa stated that a starving and destitute person has the right to steal
food. "Those who take something that does not belong to them in order to
survive do not sin," said Pinto. "Catholic Social Doctrine emphasizes the
universal distribution of the resources of creation." President Cardoso harshly
criticized the statement, but it prompted government action. Within days
of the Archbishop's declaration, the government dispatched emergency food
supplies three weeks ahead of schedule and stepped up emergency public-works
projects. When the government defaulted on paying the newly contracted workers
their $50 monthly salary, however, more riots ensued.
It was not until June 1998--several months after the drought began--that
the government began to implement a series of medium-term measures to assist
the most severely affected sectors of the population. In a national broadcast
in early June, Cardoso announced that $2 billion would be allotted to drought
relief, including expanded unemployment coverage and the creation of thousands
of additional jobs in the region's 52 public-works projects. But the situation
has become so severe that it is beginning to affect the urban areas. A few
months ago, Campina Grande, the second-largest city in the state of
Paraíba, began to ration water. The length of the frequent water cut-offs
has now been extended from 24 to 48 hours. State officials predict that the
system that provides water for the city will be completely dry by April 1999.
Forecasters predict no new crops for subsistence farmers for at least a year,
and despite the relief measures, the threat of starvation remains. The monthly
government ration of flour, beans, rice, cooking oil and noodles is barely
enough for two weeks. Distribution of the emergency food baskets has also
been erratic, with many communities yet to receive assistance. There is also
a fourishing "drought industry," in which much of the government and
international drought-relief assistance is diverted for private or political
gain.
This is hardly a new phenomenon. During the 1989 drought, a state politician
from Pernambuco held up the distribution of 30 tons of donated black beans
in order to distribute the beans in a calculated move to embarrass his political
opponents. In 1995, the Brazilian Environmental and Natural Resources Department
cited 50 incomplete drought-relief projects that had consumed $408 million
since 1979. Many of the projects had been on hold for several years, including
an irrigation project in the community of Ibimirim, Pernambuco, Paraíba's
neighboring state. This 20,000-acre project was supposed to be completed
within six years of its 1979 starting date, yet after almost 20 years, there
is still no termination date in sight. "The numbers point to corruption,
special interest politics, waste and incompetence," says Environment Minister
Gustavo Krause. "We are throwing away money while people are dying of thirst."
Meanwhile, for Oliveira and other farmers, the threat of starvation remains.
"Children are dying because they have no food to eat," said Archbishop Pinto
in an interview in early June. "People are eating roasted grasshoppers and
competing with the cattle for cactus. Some Brazilians have everything including
money to go to France for the World Cup. I'm not angry with them. I'm angry
with the system that allows this to happen and forgets the misery of the
poor. The rich raid the resources of the government and no one says anything.
When the poor raid to eat, everyone screams."
During the recent presidential campaign, the impact of the international
financial crisis on Brazil's precarious economy eclipsed all other issues.
Prior to the Asian crisis, coverage of the drought was nightly news on all
the major stations but, with some rare exceptions, the issue has almost
completely fallen off the media's map. Only when the issue is somehow related
to the country's broader instability does the media take note. There was
ample media coverage, for example, when government officials admitted that
some $45 million budgeted for emergency relief was diverted to help pay off
the country's galloping public debt, the largest total debt in the developing
world.
Isolated and infrequent incidents of the looting of government food trucks
have been reported in the last few months. After a brief respite for the
October elections, the MST has resumed land occupations throughout the country.
The government's response continues to be hard-line--refusing to negotiate
with the leadership of the MST and threatening to stop the lengthy, drawn-out
reform process on idle lands that have been occupied.
Unlike the international attention devoted to the famines in North Korea
and the Sudan, and to the flood disasters in other parts of the Americas,
news of this tragedy has only occasionally extended beyond the borders of
Brazil. Like the country's terribly skewed distribution of income, the famine
has become one more silent scourge of Brazil's impoverished majority.
Kathleen Bond works in João Pessoa, Paraíba, Brazil, as a
MarykNoLinkList lay missioner. This article appeared in the January/February
1999 issue of NACLA.
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