How Angry Is Brazil? Pelé Now Has Feet of Clay
By SIMON ROMERO and WILLIAM NEUMAN
SÃO PAULO, Brazil — It has long been a source of unparalleled pride, a
common bond uniting a disparate nation, something Brazilians could
always point to — even in times of economic ruin or authoritarian rule —
that made them the best in the world.
But these days, Brazil,
the most successful nation in World Cup history, home to legends like
Pelé and Ronaldo, is finding little comfort in “the beautiful game.”
In the most unexpected of ways, Brazil’s obsession with soccer has
become a potent symbol of what ails the country. Ever since huge
protests began sweeping across Brazil this week, demonstrators have
taken to the streets by the hundreds of thousands to vent their rage at
political leaders of every stripe, at the reign of corruption, at the
sorry state of public services.
The protests have grown so large and disruptive that on Friday, Brazil’s
president, Dilma Rousseff, put forth measures to address some of the
grievances.
But pointing to the billions of dollars spent on stadiums at the expense of basic needs, a growing number of protesters are telling fans
around the globe to do what would once have seemed unthinkable: to
boycott the 2014 World Cup in Brazil. In a sign of how thoroughly the
country has been turned upside down, even some of the nation’s revered
soccer heroes have become targets of rage for distancing themselves from
the popular uprising.
“Pelé and Ronaldo are making money off the Cup with their advertising
contracts, but what about the rest of the nation?” asked one protester,
Gabriela Costa, 24, a university student.
Protesters lambasted both men after Pelé, whose full name is Edson Arantes do Nascimento,
called on Brazilians to “forget the protests” and a video circulated on
social media showing Ronaldo, whose name is Ronaldo Luís Nazário de
Lima, now a television commentator and sports marketing strategist,
contending that World Cups are accomplished “with stadiums, not
hospitals.”
With hordes of protesters rallying outside soccer matches, clashing with
the police and setting vehicles on fire, FIFA, soccer’s international
governing body, took pains to reassure the world on Friday that it had
“full trust” in Brazil’s ability to provide security and had not
considered canceling either the 2014 World Cup or the Confederations
Cup, a major international tournament currently taking place in Brazil.
But the fact that soccer officials even had to address the issue was a
major embarrassment to Brazilian officials, who had fought so hard to
land international events like the World Cup and the 2016 Olympic Games in order to showcase what a stable, democratic power their nation had become.
Now instead of being the culmination of Brazil’s rise, the events — and
the enormous expense of hosting them — have become a rallying cry for
the protesters to show how out of step their government’s priorities are
with what the people want and need. While the government says it is
spending more than $13 billion to prepare for the World Cup, including
related construction projects, most of the stadiums are over budget,
according to official findings.
“I love soccer,” said Arnaldo da Silva, 29, a supervisor at a
telecommunications company supervisor, who celebrated back in 2007 when
Brazil landed the World Cup but was also among the protesters in the
streets this week, denouncing spending on stadiums when the
infrastructure around those structures, like sidewalks, is crumbling.
“It’s as if we’re divided between our heart and our head.”
As far back as the 1930s, fans here swelled with pride over the feats of
players like Leônidas da Silva, a striker known as the Black Diamond
who stunned European opponents with remarkably creative plays. Some
Brazilian players like Sócrates, the hard-drinking doctor who was
captain of Brazil’s 1982 World Cup team, transcended the sport by taking
part in the pro-democracy movement against Brazil’s military
dictatorship.
But while Pelé has been faulted publicly before for his stance on
various issues and for his initial failure to acknowledge an
out-of-wedlock daughter, the level of criticism against him and other
soccer figures has changed. Now Brazil’s star players, even those
speaking favorably of the current wave of protests, are suddenly finding
themselves under scrutiny in new ways.
“Brazil, wake up, a teacher is worth more than Neymar!” thousands of
protesters shouted at a demonstration this week outside the new stadium
built in Fortaleza in northeast Brazil, referring to the wealth of
Neymar da Silva Santos Jr., the 21-year-old star who recently joined
Barcelona, the Spanish soccer club.
On the field, the national team finds itself in the doldrums, dropping
to a historical low of No. 22 in the FIFA rankings. And at the Brazilian
Football Confederation, which oversees the sport in the country, the
longtime president, Ricardo Teixeira, resigned last year. He cited
health reasons, but he had faced allegations of corruption.
Meanwhile, his successor, José María Marín, 80, has come under fire over
his support for Brazil’s military dictatorship and being shown on video
slipping a medal from a youth tournament into his pocket. Later, he
said the medal was given to him.
“Brazil was coming into the preparations for the World Cup with a
swagger from its growing economic clout,” said Alex Bellos, a Briton who
has written widely on Brazilian soccer. “But there’s the sense now that
the sport is beset by various problems, even before the protests
erupted.”
In its bid to win the 2007 Pan American Games,
Rio de Janeiro promised it would build a new highway, a monorail and
miles of new subway lines, but none of those projects came to fruition.
The games themselves were over budget, and a number of the venues were
so poorly constructed that they are either being knocked down or rebuilt
for the Olympics.
The Engenhão stadium, built for track and field and then used by
Botafogo, a Rio soccer club, was to be the main venue for the 2016
Olympics. But that is now in doubt after technicians ruled the roof
could collapse in windy weather and ordered it closed.
“I think Brazilians are feeling insulted to see that there was political
will and large investments to construct big, FIFA-quality soccer
fields,” said Antonio Carlos Costa, 51, a Presbyterian pastor and leader
of Rio de Paz, a group that combats social inequalities in Brazil. “And
when these stadiums went up, the people saw that there was not the same
political will to use public funds to build the same standard of
schools, hospitals, and public security.”
Outside the São Paulo construction site of a stadium being built for a
local team, Corinthians, which will also be used for the World Cup, Ana
Paula Pereira, 36, a fan and bar owner, was torn by the turn the
protests had taken. She supported the demands of the demonstrators on
the streets but did not think that it made sense to target her beloved
team. “There has to be the World Cup, but there also have to be
hospitals,” she said.
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