Today is the final Election day in Brazil. Now what?

Yet another brief reflection on what it means to be an immigrant watching the Presidential elections in my country happen from afar

Mariela
6 min readOct 30, 2022

So the big day has arrived. Again. They’re counting the Presidential votes as I write this blog post. Earlier this morning, I logged into my voting app and justified my absence from my legal obligation to vote. Reason? I’m living abroad and haven’t transfered my electoral jurisdiction in time. And as I attempt to write this before the Presidential election results are announced, many thoughts and feelings flood my mind and heart.

Screenshots from my electoral app (e-Título) provide me the legal proof of my excuse from voting because I am outside of my electoral jurisdiction. The hashtag (#SeuVotoFazOPaís) reads “Your Vote Makes the Country.”

The first round of Brazilian elections happened earlier this month. Back then, I wrote a couple of blog posts about my thoughts and feelings leading up to our first round of elections, and my thoughts and feelings the day after election day. I had already expressed my concerns, and unfortunately, nothing has changed since then.

But through conversations with my parents and other immigrant Brazilian friends in Toronto, I’ve gathered my thoughts and feelings and can begin to process the latest events.

I begin this blog post by recounting something my dad and I talked about.

In Latin American overall, when it comes to political elections, we often talking about the “least worst” candidate. Although this perception is depressing and it’s a sign of how we, as a collective, find ways to cope with our frustration in lacking in faithful political representation, I wanted to highlight the nuance my dad and I briefly discussed when differentiating the words “election” and “options.”

He said that while an election implies active agency in choosing the candidate to vote for, options are presented, removing our active agency in determining which options become available in the first place. It’s a tricky differentiation to make, but I found this conversational tangent interesting. And thus I share it.

Now, in 2018, political polarization already plague the Brazilian electorate. And although the context differed then, I failed to see how it could get worse. Now, I think to myself, “How naive of me.”

These past months, I’ve experienced the Brazilian political context vicariously through people’s selective choices in sharing political content on social media. I’ve witnessed fear-mongering content dominate the political discourse, defending one candidate while claiming that if the other won, the literal apocalypse would burst and torment Brazil. I’m being serious. I’ve had people on my social media claim one of two potential electoral outcomes. On the one hand, if one candidate wins, Brazil will become a full-out communist state, closing all the churches and abolishing religion. On the other hand, if the other candidate wins, Brazil risks becoming a full-out authoritarian fascist state, dismantling all democratic institutions and abolishing individual rights reinstituted once Brazil recovered from its military dictatorship and re-democratized in the mid-1980s.

It feels weird to navigate these contexts virtually when I’m not physically in the country to experience them for myself and make my own judgement calls with the more immersive access to information.

In my previous blog posts, I’ve noted how the underlying Brazilian political context is so complex that I cannot afford to throughly explain it in these brief articles. If you’re interested in knowing more, I encourage you to go to my previous articles and check out the resources I’ve linked there. But the unthinkable, for me, happened: The already polarized population became further polarized. Candidates have had no mercy in demonizing each other, and voters have had no mercy in spreading political content bordering contentious political propaganda on social media. And with my friends, we’ve talked about how people — both politicians and voters—should be mindful of how there are limits to these socio-political stakes. In other words, we are all responsible about our decisions, whethere

On this note about fear-mongering tactics, I’m still baffled at how Christianity has been weaponized to manipulate people into vote on one candidate instead of the other. As a practicing Catholic, it pains me to see my religion being used as a tool to scare others into voting into a specific candidate. I’ve felt more comfortable to practice my religion in Canada than I ever was in Brazil because I would be embarassed to defend my faith and be stereotyped into supporting a specific political party, political figure, and their agenda. Religion should not be politicized. Because regardless of your political and religious beliefs, religion is not a tool to instigate fear and oppress others. Whether in Iran with the so-called ‘morality police’ or in Brazil with fear-mongering tactics to scare people into voting to so-call defend ‘religious freedom,’ religion is not a weapon. Religion elevates the soul rather than belittle our humanity.

And still on this note about fear-mongering tactics, I’m baffled with the how people willfully buy into this political polarization. Families are torn apart and friendships are dissolved as a devastating consequence not only from these politicians policies and actions, but also because of the lack of willful dialogue. It’s upsetting to see that happen in my country for the past four years, and to see that hurt and anger further extend within society in the latest weeks.

And because I don’t actively or passionately support either candidate currently running for office, it doesn’t mean I’m being neutral. It simply means I’m trying to see beyong the polarization and the manipulation of the masses and trying, to the best of my ability, to engage in meaningful political conversations. These past few months I’ve been often feeling overwhelmed when seeing all the Brazilian political content on my Instagram feed. And I realized I felt disconnected mostly because I still care about my country. “On the one hand it’s good I’m not there,” one of my friends told me when we finally found the bravery to share how we were feeling. We are all scared to voice or political opinions in Brazil. Even in Toronto, with my friends from my university, at first, we’re weary of what we say so that we don’t break that friendship bond. Because who else can I celebrate my culture with abroad if not with my fellow Brazilian friends? And who else can I talk about and be frustrated with Brazilian politics if not with my Brazilian friends?

My friend and I only had access to the emotional and political state of our country through social media. And while we, and many others, would have wanted to engage with these friends reposting political content, we didn’t find the energy to do so meaningfully. Because we sought a sincere conversation about the future of the country, and even the candidates and their policies. We wanted dialogue rather than a one-sided regurgitation of said party’s political monologue. “But on the other hand, my family and friends still live there,” my friend added, “and I want them to be well.” Because when you’re an immigrant, your cultural identity is context-dependent on current events. You want to remain connected to your country and culture while still preserving your peace of mind. You still care about your country, regardless of how far away you are, and you want the best for it and those loved ones you return to there.

That said, I’m concerned about what may happen once the election results are counted and confirmed. People today in certain regions of the country have already been subtely impeded from getting to the polling stations. Police officers were stopping drivers, asking for their paperwork, and that is not procedure during election day. This practice has never happened before in election day. So I’m concerned because, no matter which candidate wins the Presidential runoff, those results will further rupture an already fragile social fabric.

I have a bad feeling about what can happen. And on this eve of Halloween day, unfortunately, I really want to be wrong about this bad feeling I have creeping inside of me. You’ll probably hear about me within the next few days, regardless of what happens tonight.

I can only pray for the worse not to happen. I hope my words resonated with you, regardless of your nationality. And I hope you find inner strength and peace within you to persevere through the countless current events that we navigate daily as global citizens.

Sending lots of love to my readers, especially those who are Brazilian 🫶🏻

--

--

Mariela

Argentine-Brazilian. Catholic. Trilingual. Author & Writer.