INCLUSIVENESS AND HISTORICAL INEQUALITIES IN BRAZIL

When delving into Brazil’s inequality, there are contrasts: on the one hand, income inequality is extremely high and has not really changed since the begin­ning of the twentieth century.^[202] On the other hand, Brazilians’ welfare and overall wealth have improved during the democratic years.^[203] Therefore, if �democracy is not a sufficient condition for redistribution’,^[204] it, at least, matters a great deal for the �inclusion of outsiders’,^[205] who share other benefits this system supplies.

Some specific types of inequalities provide a comprehensive overview of the historically entrenched exclusions and incremental, though still insufficient, inclusions. Despite some relevant improvements in the last decades, the country was and still is largely structured in racial and gender discrimination, and the economic and development gap between the country’s poorer north and wealth­ier south is still shocking, not to mention the discrimination towards those who migrated to the south in pursuit of better living conditions.

Although inequality can be explored on different fronts - it has, after all, multiple causes and encompassing dynamics^[206] - the next section will briefly discuss and present some empirical data that expose how distinct types of inequality have affected Brazilian society and impaired the rule of law.

A. Racial Inequality

Inequalities are difficult to overcome not only because of longstanding prac­tices and entrenched benefits that are largely supported and protected by the

40 The Local Lived Experiences of the Rule of Law in Brazil institutional framework, but also because they develop strategies to justify them­selves or hide themselves from scrutiny. An important example of the first type is the claim that individuals who work hard and persevere will be better-off.

The myth of �racial democracy’ gained theoretical strength particularly after the publication of Gilberto Freyre’s The Masters and the Slaves, first published in 1933. According to Freyre, Brazil is a �society whose national direction is inspired not by blood-stream of families, much less that of a race, as the expression of a biological reality’, but, rather, �one of diverse ethnic origins...’.^[209] Brazil is �a society that is democratic in its ethnic, social, and cultural composition’,^[210] where �individuals of the most widely varied social origins and personalities, differing likewise in race or religion. have risen to the highest positions’.^[211] This book strongly influenced anthropological stud­ies on Brazil’s social formation, and the argument of �racial democracy’ has since been replicated as a mantra and, strikingly, not only by those who benefit from it. As Layton and Smith put it, �powerful societal narratives of racial democracy will lead observers, including targets and perpetrators themselves, to misattribute discrimination triggered by the target’s skin color instead to class or gender’.^[212]

The myth of �racial democracy’ is largely embraced by white Brazilians from middle and upper classes and, though functioning as a mechanism of organisa­tion of public discourses and sentiments, it is strategically announced as a symbol

of Brazilian culture and nationalism.^[213] Such a myth has become so entrenched among Brazilians that even for disadvantaged groups - the �outsiders’ - discrimination is still associated with class, not race, even though having dark skin is the key determinant of discrimination.^[214] More interestingly, contrary to common wisdom, Blacks and Browns who occupy more prestigious positions and are part of the middle and upper classes tend not to report discrimination based on their skin colour, unlike those in low prestige positions.^[215] There is a vast amount of empirical evidence of what scholars call �whitening’ as individuals move up the education and income ladders.^[216]

It is no wonder that Brazil has become a paradigmatic case for debates on racial inequality.

There is a vast literature pointing out how skin colour has a significant impact on:

(a) education years;^[221]

(b) access to better paying jobs;^[222]

(c) successful electoral outcomes;^[223]

(d) state violence in general (such as police killing);^[224]

(e) prison demographics;^[225]

(f) residential segregation;^[226]

(g) health outcomes;^[227]

(h) access to basic services;^[228] etc.

Also very interesting are the discussions and challenges derived from the national census classification of �pretos’ (Blacks) and �pardos’ (Browns). Some scholars have pointed out, for instance, the distinct perception of discrimination between those groups - the self-declared �pardos’ feel less discriminated against - despite the socio-economic data showing that both groups face equivalent challenges in social mobility and victimisation through discrimination.^[229] Other studies, on the contrary, have stressed that the binary classification - �whites’ and �non-whites’ - may fail to grasp existing differ­ences between Blacks and Browns.^[230] This debate is endless, but, regardless of the methodological challenges involved, the numbers are dramatic: racial inequality is not only historically entrenched but also strategically fostered by a set of private and public practices and policies.

Some numbers help us to understand the structural inequality related to skin colour in Brazil. According to the 2018 data from the Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE), Blacks and Browns amount to 55.8 per cent (9.3 per cent Blacks and 46.5 per cent Browns) of Brazilians, while whites comprise 43.1 per cent, yet they lag behind in various indicators. For example:

(a) among those studying between the ages of 18 and 24 years old, 55.6 per cent of Blacks and Browns are in higher education (�78.8 per cent of whites), and 28.8 per cent of Blacks and Browns (and 17.4 per cent of whites) have less than 11 years of study and were not at school at the time of the survey;

(b) 9.1 per cent of Blacks and Browns are illiterate (3.9 per cent among whites), and only 10.1 per cent of Blacks and Browns earned a university degree (24.0 per cent among whites);

(c) Blacks and Browns amount to 64.2 per cent of the unemployed, and

47.3 per cent of them have informal jobs (34.6 per cent of whites);

(d) whites earn, on average, 73.9 per cent more than Blacks and Browns, and, among those with a university degree, whites earn 45 per cent more per hours worked;

(e) only 29.9 per cent of managerial positions are occupied by Blacks and Browns;

(f) Blacks and Browns represent 75.2 per cent of the 10 per cent of the popula­tion with the lowest wages, and only 27.7 per cent of the 10 per cent with the highest wages;

(g) 32.9 per cent of Blacks and Browns earn less than U$ 5.50/day (15.4 per cent among whites), and 8.8 per cent of Blacks and Browns earn less than U$ 1.90/day (3.6 per cent among whites);

(h) 44.5 per cent of Blacks’ and Browns’ households lack one or more services of basic sanitation (27.9 per cent among whites’ households);

(i) the murder rate among Blacks and Browns reaches the staggering number of 98.5/100,000 youths between 15 and 29 years old (among whites, this number is 34/100,000);

(j) Blacks and Browns are politically sub-represented: they amount to only

24.4 per cent of federal deputies, 28.9 per cent of state deputies and 42.1 per cent of city councillors, and even though they account for almost half of the contenders (41.8 per cent; 49.6 per cent; 48.7 per cent, respec­tively), only 16.2 per cent of them obtained electoral funding of over R$ 1 million (approximately U$ 200.000,00) in the last elections.^[231]

Other data specifically on violence against Black people illustrate even further the gap between whites and Blacks (also including Browns).

The scenario is shocking from all angles, but there have been some important developments aiming at more fairly including Blacks and Browns in Brazilian society. Some of the positive developments stem from the beneficial effects of democratisation, economic stability and growth as well as changes in demo­graphics (such as declining fertility) and better living standards.^[233] However, Brazil has also amplified the adoption of policies aimed at including Blacks and Browns, such as affirmative action in higher education^[234] and public careers,^[235] and income transfer programmes, such as ⁱBolsa-Familia^, (a monthly condi­tional cash transfer programme aiming at combatting extreme poverty), which reaches mostly Blacks and Browns.^[236]

Although the numbers are upsetting, a comparable trend with the studies on income inequality can also be seen on those of racial inequality: there has been some progress in including Blacks and Browns in society, but the gap between them and the whites has little changed. Overall, Blacks’ and Browns’ living standards and welfare have improved, but so do the whites’, keeping the gap between these two groups high. Moreover, despite a minor reduction in labour market inequality due to the country’s larger trade openness to international competition, racial prejudice is prevalent.^[237] Nonetheless, there are some posi­tive movements.

8.4 per cent of Browns are in higher education, compared to 25.5 per cent of whites), among the 20 per cent richest, the numbers are much closer: 86 per cent among whites, 73.5 per cent among Blacks, and 76.5 per cent among Browns.^[238] Moreover, since 1980, the growth of Black and Brown university graduates has been higher than whites, even though they are more concentrated in less prestig­ious degree programmes and face much greater challenges to access better paid jobs after graduating.^[239] Intergenerational improvements have also occurred: the gap between children of Black and Brown university graduates and children of white university graduates who entered university has also shrunk over the years.^[240]

Racial inequality is largely entrenched in Brazilian society and, though it mingles with various elements of income inequality more broadly, it deserves a special place in our analysis of the rule of law in Brazil. Racial inequality goes way beyond class divisions or income distribution. It has a perversity of its own that certainly affects how institutions behave in providing equal treatment for Blacks and Browns, and, more importantly, in pursuing inclusion in a context of a historically segregated society. True, there have been some improvements, but they are slow and first target inequalities at the base of the system, not signifi­cantly affecting those inequalities that are seen at the intermediate and higher levels of society.^[241] The rule of law in Brazil will never be fully effective unless racial inequality is targeted as such, and not merely as an effect of class divisions and economic disparities that reproduce the myth of �racial democracy’. Despite some progress, Brazil still has a long way to go to catch up with the minimum standards of an inclusive democracy, and to make its institutions trustworthy enough for every single Brazilian, regardless of his or her skin colour.

B. Gender Inequality

Gender inequality in Brazil follows the pattern of most Latin American countries whose patriarchal and religious (especially Catholic and, now, also evangelical) legacies have placed women and the LGBTQIA+ community in disadvan­tageous positions across diverse segments of society.^[242] However, there has been some important progress over the years. The 1988 Constitution strongly affirms the principle of equality between men and women^[243] and the promo­tion of well-being regardless of �origin, race, sex, colour, age, and any other forms of discrimination’.^[244] Though the 1934 Constitution already featured a clause prescribing �equal rights’ to all,^[245] the 1988 Constitution qualified such a principle as an unamendable clause and extended it more explicitly to the family,^[246] labour^[247] and prisoner’s rights.^[248] Legislation has also provided for better protection of women.^[249]

Empirically, there has been what Marta Arretche calls a �silent revolution’ through a new configuration of family arrangements and increasing partici­pation in education and labour markets.^[250] The changes are quite remarkable. Since 1991, women are already the majority in higher education, and there has been a steep increase in female enrolment in prestigious areas previously domi­nated by men, such as medicine, law and architecture.^[251] Equality for women has improved more remarkably than that for Blacks and Browns,^[252] though their income is still lower compared to men’s.^[253] Gay rights have also improved, espe­cially in view of the recognition by the Supreme Court that same-sex couples have the same rights derived from civil unions,^[254] later extended by the National Council of Justice (CNJ) to same-sex marriages.^[255] The country has nevertheless endured a severe backlash by conservative, far-right and religious movements, and misogyny is still largely widespread.

This is the scenario of a country dealing with progressive movements towards gender equality but which is continuously challenged by longstanding and entrenched practices of gender discrimination. The rise of religious movements pushing politics to the Right by strengthening polarisation, placing gender and sexuality as a key �democratic conflict in Brazil’ and transforming it into �culture wars’ - a phenomenon converted into political capital by President Bolsonaro - is also noteworthy.^[256] Backlash from religious, far-right and conservative organisa­tions of all sorts have seized this moment to strengthen their agenda. As Debora Diniz argues, there is currently a �new form of power at play’, which �besides the traditional colonial patriarchy that founded most of our institutions and laws’ is basically �online hate and disinformation movements that reach and engage millions of people on a daily basis’.^[257] What seemed until recently a progressive, though slow, path towards greater inclusion of such groups has proven a much longer and bumpier road given the last political and social developments in the country.

Some data help explain the gap between men and women in Brazil. According to the Brazilian Institute of Geography and Statistics (IBGE),^[258] in 2019, women had an annual income which was 77.7 per cent of the equivalent male income. Moreover, even though they correspond to 52.4 per cent of the population in working age, 56.8 per cent of the working population were men (therefore, 43.2 per cent were women).^[259] In the poorest regions, the numbers of working women among the working population were even lower: 38.7 per cent in the North and 41.8 per cent in the Northeast, but, interestingly, it is in the richest regions where the income gap between men and women was more pronounced (in the wealthier South, women earned 72.8 per cent of male salaries, while in the poorer North and Northeast, this number was 92.6 per cent and 86.5 per cent, respectively). 92.1 per cent of women and 78.6 per cent of men responded that they carried out household activities, and this gap increases when they are married or in a civil partnership but decreases when they move up the educa­tion ladder. On average, employed women dedicate 8.1 hours/week more to domestic activities than men, though this number is certainly higher in real- ity.^[260] On the other hand, according to IBGE’s 2018 data, women are becoming increasingly educated and are already among the majority of those who finish high school (49.5 per cent v 45 per cent, among men) and study at an univer­sity or have already obtained a university degree, (29.3 per cent v 21.2 per cent, among men).^[261] Though more educated than men and in more prestigious and theoretically well-paid professions, women still lag far behind. According to 2015 data, women earned 62.2 per cent, 69.7 per cent and 81.1 per cent of male salaries if they hold a graduate, master or doctorate degree, respectively.^[262] Moreover, if women hold a leadership position in Brazil’s larger corporations, they earn, on average, 61.6 per cent of the equivalent male hourly wage.^[263] More dramatic still is the female political representation. According to ECLAC’s^[264]

Gender Equality Observatory for Latin America and the Caribbean, women represented only 18.2 per cent of judges in the highest court, 15 per cent of the National Congress members, 15 per cent of state legislators, 13.5 per cent of city councillors, 4.9 per cent of ministers in the federal cabinet (the lowest in Latin America), 3.7 per cent of state governors (only one female governor among the 27 elected in 2018) and 11.6 per cent of elected mayors.^[265]

Misogyny is also expressed in alarming numbers related to violence against women. According to ECLAC, Brazil had a rate of 1.8 feminicides per 100,000 women in 2019, but such a number is easily challenged due to under-reporting.^[266] According to the 2021 Brazilian Yearbook of Public Security, in 2020, there were 1,350 victims of feminicide (61.8 per cent of Black women). Moreover, there were 60,460 rapes reported in 2020, of which 60.6 per cent were of females under the age of 13.^[267]

The nonobservance of basic reproductive rights also directly impacts vulner­able women. Though reducing by 9.5 per cent between 2008 and 2015, there were an average of 200,000 hospitalisations per year for procedures related to abortion, mostly due to unsafe abortions given Brazil’s restrictive legislation on the matter.^[268] According to the Ministry of Health, there was an average of

2.5 per cent of cases almost resulting in death among those hospitalised,^[269] and, from 2006 to 2015, there were officially 990 deaths associated with abortion in the country,^[270] not taking into account the no doubt higher number of cases that were not reported.^[271] Inequality is highly visible as shown by these numbers: among those deaths, 68 per cent were single, 70.5 per cent Black and most had less than seven years of schooling.^[272] Such findings confirm other impactful stud­ies pointing out that �in 2016, 1 in every 5 women had undergone at least one abortion by the age of 40’,^[273] which implies that, in average, 500,000 abortions are carried out yearly,^[274] mostly on Black, Brown, or Indigenous women with low educational levels from the poorest regions of the country.^[275] Almost half of all abortions result in hospitalisations, but racism creates barriers for Blacks and Browns to deal with post-abortion care, resulting in a higher number of deaths among these groups.^[276] It is therefore a common practice despite its prohibition in most cases and, because women have abortions in very unsafe conditions, it represents a serious public health problem^[277] and an undeniable violence especially against vulnerable women.

As for the LGBTQIA+ community, though the world’s imaginary picture of Brazil is of a country that recognises and even promotes gender diversity, the current reality is also very disturbing. It has never passed a legislation incriminat­ing homosexuality since its independence from Portugal in 1824 and is marked by a historically strong activist movement for inclusion,^[278] but discrimination is pervasive.^[279] The institutional response to such an inclusive agenda has been ambiguous. On the one hand, gay rights have improved, especially in view of the recognition by the Brazilian Supreme Court that same-sex couples have the same rights derived from civil unions,^[280] later extended by the National Council of Justice (CNJ) to same-sex marriages.^[281] On the other hand, such progress is mainly through the judicial system and practically no federal legislation has been approved in this regard.^[282] The country has also endured a severe backlash from conservative, far-right and religious groups, placing it in a very disturb­ing situation in comparison to some of its neighbours, such as Uruguay^[283] and Argentina.^[284] Omar Encarnacion, by comparing Brazil to Argentina, for exam­ple, correctly points out that �not only has this backlash effectively prevented the post-same-sex marriage gay rights boom witnessed in Argentina, but also it threatens gay rights already made, including same-sex marriage’.^[285]

Violence against the LGBTQIA+ community is upsetting. Similar to data on inequality for this community, there is very little reliable information. As recently as 2019 the Brazilian Forum on Public Security began to compile data on violence against the LGBTQIA+ community from states’ police reports, though at that time only 38 per cent of states provided some data. There is an �invisibility of the violence against the LGBTQIA+ community’,^[286] but the available data provided a dark picture. In the 10 respondent states, there were 99 and 109 homicides, and 704 and 713 cases of intentional physical injury against this group in 2017 and 2018, respectively. In the 2020 yearbook, 12 of the 27 federal units provided no data on LGBTQIA+ victims of homicide,^[287] and, in 2021, eight units did not either, so the pattern remains.^[288] In 2021, 1,169 cases of physical injury, 121 homicides, and 88 rapes among the LGBTQIA+ community were reported, an increase of 20.9 per cent, 24.7 per cent and

20.5 per cent, respectively, compared to 2020.^[289]

Such numbers reveal two contrasting pictures: on the one hand, the coun­try has democratised and some improvement has been made towards inclusion, following an international agenda pushing for public policies aimed at attack­ing such types of discrimination. On the other hand, the country has been struggling with conservative and far-right backlashes, some headed by very influential religious groups that are increasingly holding public offices, particu­larly in Congress and, now, in the presidency. Although up till now the Supreme Court has safeguarded and even expanded some such individual rights, Congress and the president have behaved as veto players when proposals are brought to deliberation. There is an institutionally difficult balance leading to deadlock for further inclusive policies, and the distrust in the capacity of institutions to over­come it has naturally impaired the rule of law in Brazil.

C. Indigenous People

In 1967, the so-called Figueiredo Commission provided a 7,000 page report exposing the reality of Indigenous communities in the country. The conclusions were shocking: various human rights violations against Indigenous people, such as mass killings, looting of Indigenous goods, illegal appropriation of resources, labour exploitation, enslavement, rape and torture, many of which with direct involvement of state officials, were standard practice. This report’s conclusions were initially released to the press and then published in the Official Gazette. They also led to a parliamentary inquiry. However, the case was later closed following the Institutional Act n. 5, the most authoritarian Act passed during the Brazilian civilian-military dictatorship (1964-85), and was kept closed for over 40 years.^[290] The report, nevertheless, rapidly made international headlines at the time. The New York Times published, on the front page, the report Twenty Years of Shame by Paul L Montgomery, which, besides mentioning such findings, concluded that �Indians have had little play in the depths of Brazilian civilization’.^[291] More impactful still was Norman Lewis’ Genocide, published by the British newspaper The Sunday Times and later in his book A View of the World,^[292] in which he wrote in detail - 12,000 words - on the massacre of Indians, and how the Brazilian government was complacent about such crimes.

Such a depiction of the reality of Indigenous communities in Brazil is real and tragic, and it reflects a paradigm that is widespread all over Latin America: Indigenous communities have been forcefully assimilated and exterminated to a large extent.^[293] Brazil is, however, not the worst case in the region: Uruguay, Argentina, and Chile, for instance, were �particularly brutal’.^[294] According to ECLAC,^[295] by 2010, there were 826 Indigenous people and another 200 estimated to be voluntarily isolated in Latin America, comprising 45 million Indigenous people. Though Indians represent only a fraction of Brazil’s population (0.5 per cent), due to its numerous population and large territory (especially in the Amazon region), Brazil features the greatest number of Indigenous commu­nities: 305, amounting to approximately 900,000 Indians and 274 languages, among which 70 are in danger of physical or cultural disappearance.^[296] The preservation of such communities in Brazil becomes then a fundamental concern by national and international organisations, all the more so because their preservation is also largely intertwined with environmental protection particularly in the Amazon forest.^[297]

Until the 1980s, Brazil’s public policies targeted these communities with the purpose of integrating them into general society. This scenario would only change with the emergence of movements for Indigenous rights all over Latin America asking for recognition, which helped �[shape] the quality of democracy’.^[298] Brazil, in particular, was strongly advanced in the protection of these minorities with the 1988 Constitution and an avant-garde legislation,^[299] a context favoured by the intense participation of civil organisations dedicated to the Indigenous cause during the proceedings of the Constituent Assembly in 1987-88.^[300] The new Constitution sets out clearly the recognition of Indigenous �organisation, customs, languages, creeds, and traditions’ and the �original rights to the lands they originally occupy’.^[301] Though the lands traditionally occupied by Indians belong to the Union,^[302] Indians have �permanent possession’ and �exclusive usufruct of the riches of the soil, the rivers and the lakes existing therein’.^[303] Currently, there are approximately 110,000,000 hectares of Indigenous tradi­tionally occupied lands in the country,^[304] which correspond to 12.5 per cent of Brazil’s territory.^[305] The National Indian Foundation (FUNAI),^[306] which is responsible for overseeing and enforcing protective policies toward Indigenous people,^[307] is the federal institution that demarcates the Indigenous territories based on anthropological studies.^[308]

Despite these achievements, the reality is, however, gloomier and the protection of such communities has significantly deteriorated during the Bolsonaro government. Land disputes, which were already widespread, intensi­fied. Indigenous communities, whose lands help prevent deforestation due to their �sustainable forest stewardship’,^[309] suffer the impacts of a federal policy aimed at exploring the Amazon Forest by encouraging farmers, miners and ranchers to advance their personal economic interests even further. Along with the rising deforestation of the Amazon rainforest, Indigenous territories and their communities are continuously under attack caused by sheer greed and a longstanding mindset largely echoed by the military, economic elites and sectors of the government that regard Indigenous peoples, environmentalists and their allies as �opponents to economic growth and barriers to development’ and also as part of an �international conspiracy to occupy the Amazon’.^[310] Moreover, Indigenous communities have long suffered a process of accultura­tion by religious missionaries and, more currently, by rising neo-Pentecostal churches,^[311] whose racism against such communities and their original culture is rampant.^[312]

Such a mindset that sees environmentalists and Indigenous people as oppo­nents of development, usually followed by acculturation discourses, challenges the pluralistic constitutional order^[313] and the need for preservation of the soci- oenvironmental diversity that both the forest and these communities provide. President Bolsonaro’s environmental and Indigenous policies encourage this mindset and its deleterious practices. They rolled back several achievements in the direction of greater inclusion and recognition of Indigenous people that had gained momentum since the 1980s. In his government, there has been a deliberated policy to stall the demarcation of Indigenous territories, encourage deforesta­tion and dismantle the agencies aimed at protecting the Indigenous peoples and the environment, such as FUNAI and the Brazilian Institute of Environment and Natural Resources (IBAMA). Illegal mining and deforestation have significantly advanced into Indigenous territory. Such a policy was denounced as a crime against humanity and genocide in the International Criminal Court (ICC) in the Hague, and was reinforced by the way his government handled the COVID-19 crisis particularly with the Indigenous community.^[314] President Bolsonaro went even further and vetoed emergency policies approved by Congress aimed at protecting such communities, such as access to hygiene parcels, drinking water and hospital beds.^[315] The outcome could not be worse: according to the Articulation of Indigenous People of Brazil (APIB), an NGO, by February 2022, there were already over 65,000 confirmed Indians with COVID-19, among whom 1,263 died in 162 distinct communities: a tragedy.^[316]

D. Regional Inequalities

Inequality in Brazil is also regionalised. If in a megalopolis like Sao Paulo, lush richness and extreme poverty can be found side by side, Brazil’s South and North represent such extremes at a macrolevel perspective. The Southeast region, the most populated, produces more than half of Brazil’s gross domestic product (PNB). Sao Paulo is responsible for about one third of Brazil’s PNB (29 per cent), followed by Rio de Janeiro (9 per cent) and Minas Gerais (8 per cent), all three states in the Southeast region.^[317] Sao Paulo city, the capital of Sao Paulo state, concentrates alone 10 per cent of PNB, though it has 6 per cent of the popula­tion, which correspond to the same wealth produced by the sum of the 4,300 poorest municipalities and where approximately one quarter of Brazilians live.^[318] The absolute majority of the top 500 richest/per capita cities are situated in the Southeast and South regions, while 90 per cent of the top 500 poorest/per capita cities are located in the Northeast region.^[319] Brazil’s average income is about twice - and Sao Paulo’s is about three times - that of Maranhao, Brazil’s poorest state. With the exception of the Federal District in the Midwest region, where Brasilia, the federal capital, is located and there is a concentration of public servants (whose wages are much higher than the national average), the next top five richest states/per capita are in the Southeast or South region (Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Rio Grande do Sul, Santa Catarina, and Parana). All Brazil’s states in the North and Northeast regions have lower income/per capita than every single state in the South, Southeast, and Midwest.^[320]

Such numbers reflect significant disparities in access to public services and goods. The table below provides an overview of this reality by comparing key data (in per cent) in Brazil, Sao Paulo (the richest state), and Maranhao (the poorest state).^[321]

Table 2.1 Access to Public Services and Goods in Sao Paulo, Maranhao and Brazil

These numbers reveal that Maranhao, one of the Northeastern states, lags far behind Sao Paulo - and Brazil’s average - in social and economic development. If we extend such an analysis to other states, the reality might be a bit less shocking, but nevertheless still very unequal. Brazil’s North and Northeast only began to achieve higher levels of basic public services once the other regions had already moved towards universalisation. While the Southeast region was already heading in this direction in the 1970s and early 1980s, the North and Northeast regions would only reach high coverage of such services in the 2010s.^[322]

Despite the economic downturn of the last years,^[323] Brazil’s social devel­opment has improved over the years of democratic life. The Northeast and North regions, though still comparatively underdeveloped, have seen visible progress. According to the Municipal Human Development Index (MHDI),^[324] the Northeast region had, in 1991, 99.2 per cent of its municipalities with very low human development. In 2010, only 0.8 per cent of its municipalities are still there, while 61.2 per cent are in the low human development, 36.1 per cent in the medium development, and 1.9 per cent are in the high development. Overall, all the Northeastern states are currently situated in the medium human development (0.663),^[325] which is nevertheless still below the national average. In comparison, in the Southeast region, in 1991, 74.5 per cent of its municipali­ties had very low human development, 23.9 per cent low development, and 1.6 per cent medium development. In 2010, the majority of the cities are ranked as highly or very highly developed (52.2 per cent and 1.7 per cent, respectively), while 41.7 per cent have medium development and 4.4 per cent low develop­ment (there is no very low development anymore). The Southeast region is now ranked as highly developed (0.766).^[326]

Poverty reduction effectively gained strength, but such progress has recently stalled or even reversed. World Bank’s GINI Index, which measures income inequality (0 meaning perfect equality, while 100 implies perfect inequality), shows that Brazil, whose index was declining (63.3 in 1989; 51.3 in 2015), saw an increase from 2015 to 2019 (53.9).^[327] This movement indicates that there has been a slight reduction of income/per capita and increase of poverty following the political and economic crisis that hit the country from 2014 onwards. Despite that, Brazil has kept advancing in development according to the Municipal Human Development Index, because, though income has decreased, educa­tion and longevity have improved, and it is hence ranked as having high human development (0.765).^[328] When such a number is regionalised, there has been progress in development from 2010 to 2017: of all 27 Federal Units, only four states are ranked as medium human development (Maranhao, Alagoas, Piaui, and Para), 20 states are classified as high human development, and two states (Sao Paulo and Santa Catarina) and the Federal District are qualified as very high human development.^[329] The development gap between North/Northeastern and South/Southeastern regions, though reduced, is still significant.

Possibly more importantly for the rule of law, however, is that, overall, Brazil’s welfare clearly improved also in the country’s poorest regions. In the 1970s, basic services such as water, garbage collection, sewage and electricity were lacking in most cities, and the levels of education and healthcare were very deficient.^[330] The numbers have since improved: in 2019, with the exception of sewage, which is moving slower (68.3 per cent of all households), basic services are reaching universalisation (99.5 per cent electricity, 85.5 per cent water

distribution, 84.4 per cent garbage collection). Illiteracy affects 6.6 per cent of Brazilians and 48.8 per cent of those over 25 years old finished at least basic education.^[331] The North and Northeast regions, however, are still lagging far behind: daily water distribution (97 per cent in the South, 69 per cent in the Northeast, 89 per cent in the North); sewage system (88.9 per cent in the Southeast, 27.4 per cent in the North, 47.2 per cent in the Northeast); garbage collection (92.1 per cent in the Southeast, 72.4 per cent in the North, 70.8 per cent in the Northeast); illiteracy (3.3 per cent in the Southeast; 13.9 per cent in the Northeast, 7.6 per cent in the North); basic education (54.5 per cent in the Southeast, 39.9 per cent in the Northeast, 45.4 per cent in the North); years of study (10.1 in the Southeast, 8.1 in the Northeast and 8.9 in the North);^[332] physicians/1000 inhabitants (3.15 in the Southeast, 1.30 in the North, 1.69 in the Northeast).^[333] Yet, compared to what the situation was like in the 1970s, when such services were practically nonexistent in the poorest regions and very concentrated only in the Southeast and South,^[334] there is some reason to celebrate.

Despite that, regional inequality has risen,^[335] and the Northeast remains the poorest region. Nowadays the country’s overall poverty has declined and few municipalities are extremely poor, but poverty has become even more territori­ally concentrated.^[336] Successful programmes such as Bolsa Familia, one of the world’s largest conditional cash transfer programmes, have had a great impact on the reduction of poverty, mainly in Brazil’s poorest regions, by providing some income to poor families while demanding school enrolment and regular medical check-ups.^[337] However, the South and the Southeast regions saw an even stronger drop in their poverty from the 1970s onwards.^[338] This is because the country is currently wealthier and, as Arretche argues, �progress in the produc­tion of wealth tends to be accompanied by a reduction in the percentage of poor and by expansion in the supply of basic services’.^[339] Therefore, though regional inequality is still rampant and extreme poverty is more concentrated in fewer areas, general welfare has improved following a massive poverty reduction and greater access to basic services.^[340] Though such a phenomenon was faster in the affluent Southeast and South, and the divide between Southeast/South and

Northeast/North may be even more pronounced today, there has been a decrease in inequality of access to basic services.^[341]

The rule of law is notably impacted by the level of economic and social development,^[342] and it is negatively associated with inequality.^[343] A society that has lower access to basic services, and thence lower levels of well-being, tends to have a higher distrust in institutions and feebler capacity to coordinate strate­gies to control state arbitrariness, corruption and violence.^[344] It is no wonder that clientelism, corruption and violence gain traction in such areas. The lack of basic services and higher levels of unemployment and poverty are catalysts for this phenomenon as they can lead to a �citizen strategy of clientelism’.^[345] Even a successful programme such as Bolsa Familia, which is quite insulated from clientelism because of its decentralisation and direct cash transfer, is not the �silver bullet’.^[346] The so-called political families (usually from white elites) that have been in power for centuries are a common feature in the region - and corruption is widespread.^[347] Finally, the North and Northeast are the regions with a higher number of homicides/per capita: while in 2019 in Sergipe state (in the Northeast) there were 42.33 homicides/100,000 inhabitants, this number was 7.32 in Sao Paulo.^[348]

In a continental country with such contrasting realities, it is conceptually difficult to say that there is one single rule of law. The disparities are still signifi­cant in this divide between the North/Northeast and South/Southeast, and, despite some progress over the years of democratic life as regards greater welfare and lower poverty, the gap is still wide. Add to such a regional divide the inner inequalities in each municipality (race, gender, etc), and it is fair to say that, in Brazil, there are various degrees of commitment to the rule of law and distinct levels of institutional performance and accountability.

IV.