Open Collections

UBC Theses and Dissertations

UBC Theses Logo

UBC Theses and Dissertations

Ontological oppression and the privatization of public potential: indigenous counter-hegemonic adaptation… Ferrari-Nunes, Rodrigo 2009

Your browser doesn't seem to have a PDF viewer, please download the PDF to view this item.

Item Metadata


24-ubc_2010_spring_ferrari-nunes_rodrigo.pdf [ 413.25kB ]
JSON: 24-1.0068812.json
JSON-LD: 24-1.0068812-ld.json
RDF/XML (Pretty): 24-1.0068812-rdf.xml
RDF/JSON: 24-1.0068812-rdf.json
Turtle: 24-1.0068812-turtle.txt
N-Triples: 24-1.0068812-rdf-ntriples.txt
Original Record: 24-1.0068812-source.json
Full Text

Full Text

ONTOLOGICAL OPPRESSION AND THE PRIVATIZATION OF PUBLIC POTENTIAL: INDIGENOUS COUNTER-HEGEMONIC ADAPTATION IN SÃO PAULO, BRAZIL  by Rodrigo Ferrari-Nunes B.A., The University of British Columbia, 2006  THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS in  The Faculty of Graduate Studies (Anthropology)  THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver) December 2009 © Rodrigo Ferrari-Nunes, 2009  ABSTRACT This study focuses on an analysis of the counter-hegemonic discourse of Guarani indigenous leaders Timóteo Verá Popyguá and Marçal de Souza, focusing on the strategy of envolvimento (involvement) with the larger capitalist world as a means for achieving cultural survival and autonomy. The core idea of this study is how the 'privatization of public potential' can be employed both for and against initiatives that foster the strengthening of indigenous ways of knowing and relating with the land. I argue that, in order to subvert private property and the domination of space for capitalist production, envolvimento seeks the privatization of lands for the Guarani, who will develop this parcel of land according to their own cultural principles. Counter-hegemonic adaptation, in this case, requires a deep understanding of dominant practices and ideologies, and the desire to take part in the larger economy. Ultimately, I argue that the negative effects of neoliberalism can be diminished by making more private spaces communal.  ii  TABLE OF CONTENTS Abstract.........................................................................................................................................ii Table of Contents.........................................................................................................................iii Acknowledgements......................................................................................................................iv Dedication......................................................................................................................................v Introduction..........................................................................................................................1 Counter Hegemony, Private Property, and Contested Spaces................................................1 Neoliberalism and the Production of Dominant Space in São Paulo..............................5 Popyguá, Spacial Constrictions and the Ontology of Asphalt.......................................10 Envolvimento as Counter-Hegemonic Adaptation to Neoliberal Space.......................30 Hegemonic Consciousness and Counter-Hegemonic Action.........................................35 Colonial Boundary Making and Private Property Domination....................................38 Conclusions.........................................................................................................................42 The Privatization of Private Potential as Counter-Hegemonic Strategy..............................42 Bibliography................................................................................................................................47  iii  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I would like to thank people who have contributed with suggestions, revisions, support, and critical feedback. First of all, Dr. Bruce G. Miller, whose contributions through mentoring, teaching and support are not translatable to words with justice – I've had some of the most inspiring and stimulating conversations in that office filled with stories. I would also like to acknowledge friends who have, in the middle of their own busy schedules at UBC, managed to (altruistically) find time to comment on my multiple drafts and to propose improvements – Brian “Layers” Lehrer (Cognitive Systems), Megan Raschig (Anthropology), Joanne Kienholz (Anthropology), Lucas Guimarães Pinheiro (Political Science/International Relations), Marina Prado Nogueira (Anthropology), Lily Canan Reynolds (Human Geography), Mike Thomason (Human Geography), and Patrick Caracas (Film Production). I am also greatly indebted to my family and to my parents Clelia Gianna Ferrari and Luiz Antonio Rizzatto Nunes, who have helped me with so much support and positive pressure to get things done and new projects rolling. And finally, I would like to acknowledge the influential role of the 'arts' in helping me to finish this project – music, poetry, and critical thinking – essential organizational and creative components that season, spice, and flavour my life and studies.  iv  DEDICATION To the people who shall bring an end to hierarchy, exploitation and destitution.  v  INTRODUCTION: Counter Hegemony, Private Property, and Contested Spaces This study analyses the epistemological implications of 'counter-hegemonic' ideas of the Guarani leaders Timóteo Verá Popyguá and Marçal de Souza published in Brazil (Cunha 1987; ISA 2006) in the context of contemporary struggles for the privatization of public space. The conceptions of place emerging from their narratives articulate an epistemology (i.e., way of thinking and framing the world) based on personal and communal relationships with the land that includes other humans, spirits, animals and plants. I shall examine in detail their conception of 'boundlessness', 'long distance communal walking', and understanding the earth and the land as Ivyrupá –'land is only one'. The increase in urbanization that hit the area now known as São Paulo (state and city) with the rise of neoliberalism, the influx of market dominant multinational corporations, and their privatization of the state generates an epistemology of private spatial domination, exclusion and segregation. A rapidly accelerating rate of 'development' (i.e., privatization of public potential), however, has confined local Guarani-Mbya group into a small 26 hectare reserve, Krukutú (ISA 2006:32) surrounded by grids of asphalt, a material charged with a meaning which is, for them, the antithesis of life. Water, on the other hand, is deeply associated by the Guarani with life and spirituality, while asphalt, development for the market and industrial progress are associated with death, assimilation, environmental destruction, close confinement, slavery and economic dependence. I analyse in detail Popyguá's counter-hegemonic strategy of envolvimento instead of desenvolvimento, that is, 'involvement' with the economy to create partnerships, rather than 'development'. Privatizing indigenous lands in order to secure them from corporate industrial 'private' development is a strategic counter-hegemonic adaptation to the status quo. That is, by bounding parcels of their traditional lands as 'private' under their own name, aboriginal people can use these lands as if they were communal. This study examines issues of phenomenological injustice1, systemic oppression, ontological development, and the production of neoliberal space. To respect people's aesthetic and experiential integrity as dwellers of the world, ensuring access to a safe, clean and sustainable world free from class, gender, and ethnic oppression is a valid working definition for phenomenological justice. Indigenous peoples, the poor, the propertyless and the dispossessed are the most deeply affected by 1  I am adding the 'phenomenological' dimension to a notion of justice and injustice to highlight the experiential, affective and ontological features that landscapes and ways of using and relating to landscapes have on individuals. By ontology I mean to focus on the development of humans as contingent on their relationship with the immediate physical and symbolic environments. Therefore, when a dam is imposed on traditional lands, it deeply affects the development of individuals and their symbolic and physical landscapes, especially in a system of thought that sees landscapes as alive with meaning and not as a means for capitalist production.  1  the current form of urban development (e.g., Demo 2005, Endo 2005, Fix 2001; Freire 1970; Kowarick 1993, 1994;). Henri Lefèbvre's discussions of dominant and dominated space (1991[1974]), Merleau-Ponty's (2002[1945]) phenomenological theory, and Pierre Bourdieu's critique of neoliberalism (1998; 2003), and his meditations on habitus, hexis, and praxis (Bourdieu 1984; 1990; 2005) are all important theoretical influences that should be acknowledged for having shaped epistemologically this text. This study represents an epistemological resistance to the neoliberal doxa, against “the imposition on the entire world of the neoliberal tyranny of the market and the undisputed rule of the economy and of economic powers, within which the United States occupies a dominant position” (Bourdieu 2003:9). This doxa that organizes exploitative practices and generates the logic it seeks to justify, is the “neoliberal vulgate, an economic and political orthodoxy so universally imposed and unanimously accepted that it seems beyond the reach of discussion and contestation” but that “is not a product of spontaneous generation” (Bourdieu 2003:11-12). I understand neoliberalism to be the most advanced form of capitalism and colonialism, today inscribed into free trade legislation – a geopolitical strategy for economic domination. São Paulo is today almost completely dominated by the logic of profit and the privatization of public space. The intensification of colonial processes started with the arrival of Europeans in the 16th century. Such processes are still inflicting brutal phenomenological demands on local indigenous peoples, marginalizing them for having an incompatible epistemology. There is no time within this study for a comprehensive overview of all the differences between Guarani groups and other indigenous peoples in Brazil and the world. There are, however, important similarities between the events, people and discourses analysed in this study and the experiences of other indigenous peoples from around the world struggling with colonialism (e.g., Cruikshank 2005, Miller 2003, Stoler 2002). The Guarani mode of dwelling and being-in-the-world (see Ingold 2000:185-6, and Heidegger 1971) that Popyguá describes reconstructs an ontology of the past that stands against dominant modes of relating to the landscape founded on the notion of private property (i.e., colonial, post-industrial, capitalist, neoliberal, exploitative, dehumanizing, exclusive, elitist, and segregationist productions of space). Out of a population of about 192 million Brazilians, only 734.000 are considered self-declared indigenes (ISA 2006:7). The socio-cultural variation that still exists, however, represents both a hope and a threat, with 225 identified ethnicities and 180 languages, half of which are spoken by populations with less than 500 individuals (ISA 2006:7). The number of recognized indigenous inhabitants in Brazil is steadily rising, nothing very surprising now that there  2  is a legal mechanism allowing people to file for recognition. Indigenousness is a dynamic category that is constantly being redefined through, on the one hand, structural hegemonic processes, and, on the other hand, local, grass-roots resistance and identity politics. The official count is too low to match the level of variation encountered, and the situation of indigenous peoples in Brazil is quite alarming at the same time. There must be more people with indigenous roots and, therefore, the constitutional right to cultural difference than the numbers could possibly allow for. However, the pressures to assimilate, and the constrictions of the capitalist world are so strong that their ability to achieve autonomy and sovereignty become compromised. The ethnographic literature distinguishes the Guarani who live in Brazil in three subgroups – the Kaiowá (also known as Pai-Tavyterã), the Nhandeva (also referred to as Xiripá or Tupi), and the Mbyá (ISA 2004:219). The distinctions are based on linguistic and dialectical differences, “customs, location, the history of contact, cosmological and ritualistic aspects” (Ladeira 2003 In ISA 2004:219). Ladeira estimates that in Brazil there are about 20,000 Kaiowá, 8,000 Nhandeva, and 7,000 Mbyá (ISA 2004:219). The numbers of officially recognized indigenous peoples is rising in Brazil, countering the movement towards their assimilation into the nationalist culture. I have singled out Popyguá because of the counter-hegemonic characteristics of the publication of his ideas, and because of the extremely disruptive nature of the experiences of confinement that industrial and urban development imposed on his people. A prerequisite for potentially effective counter-hegemonic is the circulation and the propagation of ideas. The internationally funded NGO Instituto Socioambiental, publisher of Popyguá's ideas, has published some of the most important and comprehensive overviews of issues that affect indigenous peoples in Brazil (e.g., ISA 2004; ISA 2005; ISA 2006). The fact that Popyguá's ideas are given prominence in a historically important, highly visible, and well funded publication, makes them very relevant in a study of strategic counterhegemonic adaptation. I invite the reader to engage in an exercise of "[c]ritical reflection on our imaginaries", the way we conceive of development, space, movement, property, belonging and dwelling, "confronting the hidden utopianism [of the free market] and resurrecting it in order to act as conscious architects of our fates rather than as 'helpless puppets' of the institutional and imaginative worlds we inhabit" (Harvey 2000:159). By embracing the subjective experience of an alternative ontology, I can step beyond the bounds of my own position, albeit momentarily, and recognize the objective possibilities lying ahead, immanent, awaiting to mature into a form of action. This work attempts to “relocate, to diffract, embodied meanings” with the intention of “gestating a new world” (Haraway 2004:98). If  3  this sounds unrealistic because this is just a text that analyses other texts, the assumption is that ideas which have transformative power are worth sharing, as are the analytical interpretations of others. Conceptions of space, utopias and symbolically charged ideas, when shared and lived, are transformed constantly by different interrelated factors, such as the quality of intersubjective interactions, spatial configurations, and the dominant conceptual environment. Both the physical space and the subjective space which is growing and developing ontologically in the individual, are ultimately contingent on local conditions. This ontological dynamic of place and being is a powerful influence in the formation of individual subjectivities and collective identities. The search for distinctions between ontological, ideological, epistemological and phenomenological dimensions, I argue, is a powerful analytical tool for social scientists interested in all facets of the human experience. Such distinctions are useful to generate accurate contexts for complex data, and to help analyse human productions of space. The privatization of public potential emerging from an analysis of the struggle between the Guarani relationship with the land expressed by Popyguá and the neoliberal domination of space is double-edged, with negative and positive outcomes – public potential can be privatized negatively to serve the status quo, and positively to allow for communities to develop and become autonomous. The negative effects of neoliberalism, however, can be curtailed by making more private spaces communal – a counter-hegemonic strategy that can make private property public while keeping it private.  4  Neoliberalism and the Production of Dominant Space in São Paulo The objectified world, the spaces and architectures we inhabit, are increasingly infused with the "ideology and practices of competitive neoliberalism" which "do their quietly effective and insidious work within the major institutions - the media and the universities” (Harvey 2000:155)2. The 21st century started out with the intensification of a geopolitical strategy to exploit poverty and hide the social costs. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, neoliberal policies were implemented across the world to facilitate the flow of goods and cash between profit-driven corporations and governments, across national boundaries. The São Paulo-bred urbanite is unable to dwell in a direct relationship with the land, sustaining the earth and respecting it for its life-giving properties. This ideology compels subjects to exploit the land for its profit bearing potential. Hegemony is enforced through dominant, authoritative, and institutionalized intellectual productions that shape the way humans behave in their relationships with others. In other words, the “imaginative context in which we live” is shaped by how we absorb and act on knowledge about the world received insidiously or subliminally “with hardly anyone noticing” (Harvey 2000:155-6) as we follow our personal trajectory through the institutions we can hardly avoid being part of. Under the umbrella ideology of the neoliberal free-market in which profit-driven entrepreneurialism reigns, taking precedence over local needs, the mainstream media, universities and other bureaucracies enforce, sustain, nourish and reproduce “[t]he political correctness imposed by raw money power (and the logic of market competition)” (Harvey 2000:155). Such political correctness generates a prejudicial common-sense that marginalizes creative alternatives to legacies of colonialism such as the dependence on the free-market, private property and export monocultures. As Harvey argues, the social power of this political correctness “has done far more to censor opinion within these institutions than the overt repressions of McCarthyism ever did" (Harvey 2000:155-6). Bourdieu argues that academics devoted to the conformity of political correctness would be shocked if they had to take an active political position because they opted for “the cozy virtuousness of confinement within their ivory tower” and “see intervention outside the academic sphere as a dangerous failing of that famous 'axiological neutrality' which is wrongly equated with scientific objectivity” (Bourdieu 2003:12).  2 One neoliberal media phenomenon worth noting is the manufacturing of worthy and unworthy victims by the “antiseptic reporting“ of the mainstream mass media, disseminating information designed to keep people passively dependent on television and the products it represents (Herman and Chomsky 2002:xx). Victims of violence around the world are deemed newsworthy or not according to the hegemonic position of the state. Examples include how Israeli victims get more coverage than Palestinians, and how there was little coverage of the East Timor atrocities because the United States supported Suharto's dictatorship.  5  There is one example of such political correctness in academia that generates a distant, disconnected, cosmopolitan, touristic, exploitative, exclusivist, elitist, and egotistic epistemology – the post-modern fashion to argue for some sort of a jumbled and complex intercultural mixing and syncretic rootlessness that should be naturalized as a universal principle for the dominant value system. The naturalization of a de-localized and global intercultural rootlessness undermines local resistance to market forces, and is well represented in the margins of anthropology by academics like James Clifford (e.g., Clifford 1980a; 1980b; 1983; 1988; 1997). As long as people are convinced that nothing traditional is worth maintaining, and that the academic can never be an activist for social justice, we can make sure that the new embodied tradition of the free-market automaton is perpetuated, muffling the legitimacy and denying the validity of any epistemological alternatives that do not flow from the mainstream ideology. São Paulo is surrounded by areas full of people who have been forced by harsh economic conditions to become squatters, encroaching upon unused private and public lands, and affecting the value and productivity of the land. Dwelling on your own, and building your own house is not considered productive when you have no private property and wealth. If we are guided by phenomenological justice, fostering human well being should be considered extremely productive, and our first priority. The favelado, a general category applied to all very poor urban people, living at the margins of homelessness, regardless of their ethnic background, indigenous or not, is viewed as an “usurper who can be dispossessed without the possibility of defence, because against him hovers the kingdom of legality in which the right to expel them is embedded” (Kowarick 1993:92). For the mainstream, the indigenous Brazilian is just as de-rooted as a favelado is believed to be. Institutionalized colonialism cut down the land into patches of private property, and now the people who believe they have a right to exist and to dwell on their own might never be able to break free from dependence unless they somehow secure enough money and acquire private property. Occupying someone else’s land (terra alheia) the favelados are defined by their “situation of illegality” and over them crumbles the “draconian empire of the fundamental rights of society, centred on private property”, eradicating their claims as valid moradores or dwellers (Kowarick 1993:92). The history of development and dispossession in São Paulo teaches us that human rights come with wealth and possessions, and not with heart and soul. The epistemology of profit and accumulation demonstrates through its own cold and humiliating logic that access to rights in Brazil go hand in hand with the ability to accumulate and control capital, asserting the ultimate dependence of the urban dweller on the constant acquisition of capital for survival. This condition of dependence  6  on capital acquisition develops within an urban ontology that stands in strong opposition to so-called romantic narratives about pre-colonial times, transforming them into nostalgias and utopias, and ultimately discrediting them as valid and viable alternatives. As long as scholars continue to pose as accurate realists, the widespread pseudo-scientific cynicism that devalues non-mainstream epistemological alternatives by denigrating them as naive and romantic, will remain as a clear example of the constrictive and alienating institutionalized political correctness that Harvey (2000) discusses in more detail. The constant downplaying of alternative ways of life that emerges naturally from the dominance of the status quo helps to associate homelessness, indigenousness, and poverty with criminality, and justify violence against anyone who does not function in a sort of contained and insular conformity. Such conformity can be also masterful in terms of the knowledge it contains about the social system, but it is not selfconscious or reflexive, because that self-conscious mastery in itself generates the opposite of conformity, counter-hegemonic potential at the very least. São Paulo is an “enormous and complex productive machinery (engrenagem) that dictates the rhythm of accumulation and capital in Brazil”, the “perfect personification" of "industrialized underdevelopment” (Kowarick 1993:53) – neoliberalism objectified in practice. São Paulo represents the antithesis of Guarani conceptions of space. Buildings and square angles express and reveal the rationality of division and multiplication that makes the idea of money such a powerful organizer of the conditions of practical possibilities: like stacks of money, buildings are stacked resources, and their height denotes their relative power in the capitalist hierarchy of contemporary cityscapes. São Paulo is responsible for employing 36% of industrial / manufacturing workers in the country, 46% of all salaries of the country and 40% of the value of industrial transformation of capital investments (Kowarick 1993:160). The “regional concentration of capital and workforce” led São Paulo to the acquisition of “metropolitan characteristics”, not only “because its demographic features [feição] have become gigantic or because its urban blotch [mancha urbana] has been rapidly extending – with more than 1700 km2 – but because of its economic role, deepening the traditional division of labour internal to Brazilian society” (Kowarick 1994:58). In São Paulo, the historical naturalization of the colonialexploitative model, its value system and ideology, in turn “decrees a vast condition of subcitizenry [subcidadania]” (Kowarick 1994:166) as the poorest parcels of the population are pushed into favelas and cortiços: favelas being the more peripheral, distant and exposed habitations, usually situated along polluted and seasonally flooding córregos (smaller rivers), as discussed also by Fix  7  (2001). Cortiços are cubicles located in very poor central areas, and that border or intermingle with richer neighbourhoods. The conditions are such that people in general, including indigenous urban Guarani, by virtue of their poverty and distance from elite circles, are living in habitations [moradias] that do not exceed 30 m2 in size. This is a flagrant human rights violation – “the medium surface area of the barracos is 5,70 m2 per inhabitant” whereas the World Health Organization proposes a minimum of 10 m2 as basic standard (Kowarick 1994:162). Moreover, since the mid 1970s “the difficulties for the acquisition of lands by workers are growing” and whereas “the value of the minimum salary was reduced in about 60%, the price of the square metre of land, in this period, grew 2,5 times [250%]” (Kowarick 1993:58). Operating as illegal sub-citizens that challenge notions of private property, the urban poor, indigenous or otherwise, are under protected. They are constantly exposed to raw forms of violence that largely meet no justice, and that are fetishised by the mainstream media as a form of entertainment that Endo (2005), in his psychoanalytical study of violence in São Paulo, considers masochistic (see Endo 2005). Because their death as dehumanized propertyless would carry usually no legal consequence for those killing them, the propertyless poor live under the constant threat of being targeted as criminals and as a “special object of police action” (Kowarick 1994:92-3). Because they lack resources to have any sort of advocacy in their behalf, and having no social status in the cold and self-centred mainstream society, their deaths will most likely go unpunished, are of no consequence to their criminals, and are therefore carried out casually. Indigenous individuals are not important figures in mainstream society, they are epistemologically associated with poverty and backwardness, and are, therefore, subjected to the effects of the same social stigma and violence that favelados are subjected to. The indigenous urban dweller, associated with the favela, a place which is stigmatized by the ‘well behaved’ citizens as uncivilized and lawless, bears the same marks in society as the favela represents. The favela is widely seen as a place of disorder that does not fit the landscape of the socalled 'best' developed upper class neighbourhoods. Urban indigenous settlements and their dwellers are jumbled within the same category of illegal sub-citizens, standing in the way of development. A dominant sort of aseptic aesthetic Puritanism condemns the existence of favelas and demands their destruction to give way to gentrified development. In this way, tranquility can reign again in the quotidian of the families that “feel contaminated by the danger represented by the proximity of the barracos” (Kowarick 1993:3). The injustice inherent in the failure of the state to carry on its constitutional duty to provide all  8  citizens with a piece of land to live on, is understood by mainstream agents as justice. After all, as the dominant logic goes, 'if the poor wanted to be rich, they could just do it, and work their way up like anyone else'. This notion is blind to the realities of prejudice and dispossession that the propertyless are facing, and it denotes clearly the level of alienation and exclusion that characterizes the relationship between the elite and the working class. The daily constrictions of the São Paulo environment (i.e., density, cars, smog, noise, and the threat of unpredictable everyday violence, alienation from food source and food production), and the need to survive are factors that make dwelling in the way that Popyguá asserts the Guarani did before the city developed, an absolutely non-viable and largely impossible enterprise. Indigenous Guarani settlements surrounding the São Paulo metropolitan area have been traditionally more invisible to the mainstream than favelas, and treated accordingly. Facing the reality of extreme poverty and the social stigma of illegality, favelados tend to perceive themselves in the urban scenery of São Paulo as people without rights and without forms of organization that can enable them to obtain such rights (Kowarick 1993:92). The governmental policies that froze the growth of favelas, sought to block the rise of new social cores and the densification (adensamento) of the existing ones, destroyed many poor urban conglomerations, and allowed land owners to destroy favelas without any punishment or consequence, “creating among favelados a consciousness of prohibition” (Kowarick 1993:92). This consciousness of prohibition of the freedom to dwell is a product of the dominant ideology and its practices, reinforced constantly by the threat of dispossession - being forced to abandon the favela suddenly through violent police action sanctioned by the judicial system. The violent and dominating (Lefèbvre 1991[1974]:280), and therefore phenomenologically challenging character of the urban space of metropolitan São Paulo, is reflected in how its streets, in a period of 30 years, went from supporting “160 thousand cars in 1960 to over 3.6 million” in 1990 (Kowarick 1993:159). This growth reflects the heightened, demanding and systemic constrictions imposed in the São Paulo population, highlighting the “extreme violence imperante [dominating] the city: the World record holder of fatal victims in traffic accidents,” an environment that made possible the deaths of 29 people per 10.000 in 1991, 60% being pedestrian run-overs, in a proportion of deaths that is almost 3.5 times greater than that of New York, and 8 times that of Tokyo (Kowarick 1993:159). This unbridled and extreme growth in density and size of São Paulo are due in part to the domination of the landscape by multinational corporations with the help of consistently corrupt 'lawmaking' and bureaucratic practices.  9  Popyguá, Spacial Constrictions and the Ontology of Asphalt The Guarani leader Timóteo Verá Popyguá3 proposes “instead of development, involvement” (ISA 2006:31). In Brazilian Portuguese4, these words look and sound more closely related than 'development' and 'involvement' in English. In Brazilian, development is desenvolvimento, and involvement is envolvimento. The difference is a single syllable (des-) that is added to desenvolvimento to make a larger semantic difference, whereas in English, involvement and development do not sound similar, and only share common substantive ending -ment. This is significant because, in Brazilian, the similarity of both words' sounds is striking, and yet, the difference in meaning does not correspond to that small difference in their sound and spelling. The mainstream concept of desenvolvimento or development is antithetical to the participatory, grass-roots ontological ideals of envolvimento. Historical tensions in the formation of memory and place propel Popyguá's narrative, conceptualized through distinctions between desenvolvimento and envolvimento - namely the ontological and epistemological clash of having to stand between the parallel histories of colonial labour exploitation for profit, and of community collaboration (i.e., long distance communal walking). The lack of political borders (i.e., boundlessness) is an epistemological alternative to private property. Both desenvolvimento and envolvimento, however, contain the root for the Latin verb volvo, volvere, volutum est, which means to change, turn into something else, rotate, transform. This feature reminds us that the production of space is inextricably linked with the idea of environmental and social change. Popyguá uses a story to relate in detail what he means in the proposition that envolvimento is preferable to the standard idea of development. One contradiction that we should keep in mind while reading his story concerns the idea of private property: the ontology that emerges from Popyguá's account of the past is radical in that it does not recognize nor depend on any notion of private property to exist, whereas his ideas about envolvimento and desenvolvimento approach private property strategically rather than radically. “My aunt, who died at the age of 120 years, lived in the village (aldeia) of Itariri in the 3 Class and gender are important variables in contests between hegemonic discourses in Brazil because they are elements of human experience divided through ideological lines. There are no female indigenous leaders in the publications I analyse, despite the fact that women are figured in a prominent position within the narratives of indigenous males. It is not possible to know whether it was in order to have more counter-hegemonic power that the Instituto Socioambiental publications (ISA 2006) do not feature women narratives, or if the gender bias we observe is not intentional. What matters most is that although there are no women leaders offering stories in this material I term 'counter-hegemonic', stories about women are essential in the narratives provided by the men. They refer to themselves as beings in constant and ongoing relationships with the people and the land, especially older women storytellers. The problem is that we end up with a version of women's narratives told indirectly through their male progeny. 4 Henceforward referred to exclusively as “Brazilian”, not “Portuguese”. All translations from Brazilian language materials are mine.  10  beginning of the last century. She used to tell me that, on the way up from the coast, by the margins of the Capivari river, there was a Guarani resting area called Guyra Pytã because of a red (garça) who lived there. This route continued until it reached the Pinheiros river, and she went up to Baurú following the margins of the river. A group of five, six families would go to Baurú and would later return. And so she said that once the families went up again and, when they arrived, they were scared: suddenly there was a lake on the Guyra Pytã. They stayed there for many days nearby waiting for the water to go back down, but nothing of the water coming down. After many years it became known to them that it was the dam made by the whites. Guyra Pytã became Guarapiranga. My aunt always told me this história” (Popyguá In ISA 2006:31). Unlike a story (estória), a 'history' (história), in Brazil, generically denotes the idea of events that have been verified as facts in then social memory of space and time. It would be impossible to walk to Baurú following the margins of the Pinheiros river today, surrounded by highways, and polluted by industry and development. Popyguá's narrative is deeply ontological, and a clear image of the environment in which the actions take place is created, characterized by the freedom of movement, the lack of privatization, and a detailed understanding of the landscape before the dam was built and broke the pattern. I consider his narrative in this passage 'deeply ontological' because it illuminates the conceptual and physical environments that led to the formation his subjectivity overtime, affecting and shaping his being and his understanding of the world, and what it should be like. One irony is also clear in the appropriation of Guyra Pytã, the Guarani name for a resting place, and its transformation in Guarapiranga, a dam surrounded now by private development. There is a level of potentially traumatic surrealism in the fact that a traditional and familiar resting place infused with social memories of the past can suddenly be wiped out and become erased - even the name, meaning, and function associated with the place will be subverted to serve the profitable needs of colonial subjects - people who do not really care to know how to relate and dwell in the world in less fragmented and more wholesome ways. “After they made the dam, the Guarani did not go up anymore. Only after 1930, when the Sorocabana railway was completed that they began to come through this way. A family would stay one, two months, and then return to the aldeia. They always walked. In 1955 one family stayed, not exactly here, but closed to the train. By that time it was called Vila Guarani. After that more families arrived, and it started to really become an aldeia, by 1960, in this place. Many families started to arrive, relatives from Paraná, and others from the South coast and of the North coast used to come up here and stay. Today it grew a lot, with over 800 people. But here has always been Guarani route” (ISA 2006:31). Imagine that, if you were a Guarani, a new 'feature of development that has been constructed by others for their own benefit and flooded your resting place, taking its name, forces you to divert your traditional patterns and adapt to the circumstances they impose without your consent. Now there is a new type of colonial settlement , the aldeia, the rural village, with its church and commerce,  11  where you are expected to converge as well and give up your 'uncivilized' ways and be assimilated into a pre-packaged nationalistic ideology. The places that once made up your experience are now manufactured to serve an international market you have never been serving before. Now they want you to serve it and to conform to their way of life. The boundaries instituted on indigenous lands by colonial powers for production have sliced "through [your conceptual and physical] space[s] like a great knife" (Lefèbvre 1991[1974]:165), violating a complex experiential geography once filled with cross-generational memories. For the sake of production, those memories are now worthless. Popyguá continues, always coming back to the point that asphalt is something the Guarani had never depended on when there were more of them, before development: “I believe it was in 1983 that I came to São Paulo. We took 15 days to arrive because we walked for part of the way. There was almost nothing here close to the aldeia, there was no asphalt, nothing. We arrived, we came walking to this place. At the time José Fernandes was the cacique (chief). After two years I started to accompany Zé Fernandes to the reunions of the AGUAÍ – Indigenous Guarani Action, an association of the aldeias of the South and North coast, and of the capital of São Paulo, in which only the caciques (chiefs) and the pajés (shamans) participated. The struggle of AGUAÍ was for the demarcation of indigenous lands. They were able to demarcate the Rio Branco, and they were able to demarcate the Itarari, Tenondé Porã, Krukutú, the aldeia of Silveira and Ubatuba, and they were also able to [demarcate] in Rio de Janeiro, in Angra dos Reis, and in Sapukaia. It is not that they had no difficulties, but they are strong in the spiritual part, so they were able to do it. After two years I already knew all the aldeias of São Paulo, because I participated with Zé Fernandes. He would speak like this: “in the day that I stop someone has to follow me”. I remember that about thirty youth, from fourteen to twenty, were here in the aldeia. Only that after two, three years, four years, everyone went to various places, and I stayed here alone. Then in 1995, Zé Fernandes went away to Ubatuba, and after he returned to Jaraguá [an aldeia also placed in the municipality of São Paulo]. Manoel Lima became the cacique. And in 2003 I entered in his place” (ISA 2006:31). At the onset of neoliberalism, in the early 1980s, when guerrilla warfare and dictatorships were being instituted in Latin America, and by the end of the Brazilian military regime (1964-1985), the area where the São Paulo Guarani-Mbya are now enclosed was still untouched by asphalt. This is a very important ontological point, in addition to the days spent walking. The dominant model dictates that one should drive now, since walking would be a waste of time. In addition, the same cars that have created the demand for the brutal colonial rubber extraction tactics that terrorized indigenous peoples in the Amazon, have now demanded the transformation of the landscape with long asphalt straight lines and grids – streets and roads surrounded by private space owned by people who may have never set eyes on that land before it was developed. This passage also shows how demarcation, that is, the privatization of land as indigenous, is immediately recognized as a viable strategy to ensure survival on a shrinking landscape. The changes imposed have been so dramatic  12  and lasting that the project of trying to revert them radically is already doomed to fail. The entire demarcation project rests on the hands of a couple of individuals working out of a small office in Brasilia, and they are expecting to finish the demarcation of all the indigenous lands in the entire country within 5 years – the next step they hope to achieve after doubling their staff is clearing off all indigenous lands from non-indigenous people, which is naive and unrealistic (Personal communication with Bruce G. Miller, July 2009). When Popyguá refers to his social relationship with Zé Fernandes, he is expressing his concern about the survival of Guarani ways of life. Taking care of the youth, and showing them how to value the threatened traditions that have managed to survive colonialism, is an essential measure. “In the day that I stop”, asserts Zé Fernandes through Popyguá's voice, “someone has to follow me”. By this he does not mean literally to follow him around, but to follow his footsteps as a guardian of his culture. In addition, this 'following' is essential for the achievement of intergenerational epistemological continuity and development in the present. For dominant nationalistic bureaucrats and governmental agents, people like the Guarani, who struggle to maintain their alternative epistemology of space, are “a threat to national unity and security or economic development” and are considered “backward or degraded and in need of conversion to a new religion, economic system, or way of life” (Miller 2003:209). Popyguá is concerned with the spacial constrictions affecting his people. They have lived independently from asphalt, and are now constantly surrounded and bound by it. The common urban and suburban person, hypnotized by car commercials and obsessed with details about the car industry, could never imagine themselves living in a world without cars, asphalt, and all the things that come with it. To subscribe to the type of 'progress' that fuels car fetishism, mostly mechanical and teleological, is like diving head first into an abyss of environmental unsustanability. “Today, the main problem of the Tenondé Porã community and of the neighbouring aldeia, Krukutú, is the ampliação [growth or amplification of the city through asphalt-based grid private development]. Traditionally the Guarani lives with amplitude and today we are living in a match box. Even to maintain the language, to maintain the traditions, there must be enough space. And around us urbanization is growing [aumentando]. Two years ago everything around beside here was woods [mato], and today it is already village [vila]. A lot of clandestine loteamento [cutting up of lots] happens, irregular [illegal?]. Now the Rodoanel will bring even more prejuízo [destruction, disruption, loss, devastation, depreciation]. The city has to be provided [abastecida] by the water. But the Billings dam and the Guarapiranga dam are being destroyed. Imagine with the construction of the Rodoanel what is going to happen? The destruction will grow [aumentar]. Who depends on the water are us, human beings, we are not depending on the asphalt to survive. In twenty years, forty years, we will feel the effects” (ISA 2006:31-32).  13  This paragraph is clearly distinct from the first of the narrative ontologically, because it deals with present circumstances and the powerful threat they represent. The 'match box' image stands out as the prison of private constrictions grows, taking over more land from more people and affecting their traditional practices. A culture needs space in order to survive, and the spacial marginalization of the Guarani and other indigenous peoples has led to the current conditions of destitution and constriction. Private property and the legal apparatus that protects it, took over the land, expelled and prosecuted its inhabitants. The dam has now become a feature that is not considered to be as bad as the Rodoanel (road-ring) – a massive highway development. The Rodoanel is supposed to alleviate the mass traffic problems of the São Paulo metropolitan region by surrounding the city with a distribution ring. The millions of people living in the city depend on the water and on the roads to survive, whereas the Guarani see the roads bringing the uncontrollable growth of illegal settlements (loteamentos clandestinos) and more dependence on an economy based on the alienation of urban subjects from food production practices. It is almost as if the industry is conspiring to keep people from spending time planting their own food. Making agriculture a local and ubiquitous practice (e.g., instead of driving cars and buying industrial products at the supermarket) could generate a potential collapse of current widespread monoculture practices - a 'legacy' of slavery, suffering, and colonialism. How did we go from being able to roam the land along the rivers for thousands of kilometres with our families, to being afraid of the streets, being constantly surrounded by heavy traffic, the delay and the fumes, and bound in a labyrinth of unsurpassable private property? It should be hard for privileged Westerners to imagine how it would feel to have had your traditional space and the land stripped from you to serve the international monoculture export market. Such a market, we are told to believe, moves the global economy, and if we don't keep feeding it and serving elitist monopolist speculative capitalists, the world will collapse. Indeed, their world would break down if we cease to conform. Living without industrial agriculture, as we hear from people like Popyguá, was working out pretty well before the European showed up with their form of colonial expansionism, engulfing the world with violence and suffering, epidemics and land dispossession. Present nation states installed on so-called 'American' grounds today have been founded upon such suffering, and their nationalism is designed to homogenize the ideological variations that have not yet been wiped out. “We have only 26 hectares, and Krukutú has another 26, but we have a large occupation, and the people know everything around here. Even before the dam the Guarani walked this way, hunted over there. I know that in 1920, 30, it was all cleared out [desmatado]  14  here, because they would take the wood for the Maria Fumaça to make coal ['Mary Smoke', a coal burning train]. Guarani was already present. And so what we asked for as a compensatory measure for the Rodoanel was help making our area more extensive. The assessment that was made by FUNAI was of about 9 thousand hectares. And the woods will always be here in the nine thousand hectares one hundred years from now, nobody will take it away to sell it, nobody will get rich illicitly from the forest. It is this that the branco does not know, branco believes that money can save the planet” (ISA 2006:32). Here Popyguá makes a direct contrast between the spatial constrictions of the present, and the amplitude of the past, pointing to places that were coldly cleared to serve the needs of production. The ferrovia, the 'iron-way', the train lines that transport export commodities to ships destined to faraway places, is, in the history of the Guarani, a relatively new colonial feature that shows the land being stripped away from its public potential, and becoming a function of profit-driven corporate domination, blocked from access. Trespassers are welcomed with bullets. Popyguá claims that the essence of the Guarani is to preserve the land and maintain the forest, whereas for the branco, money can save the planet, that is, everything must have a price and can be bought and sold, no matter what it is, a mountain, river, beaches, or anything able to be located on a map, plotted out on the land, and taken over. The conjunction of document and credits is essential for making this spacial domination possible. The 26 hectares that the Guarani were 'given' is a meagre fraction of what would be reasonable for an indigenous community to sustain itself independently from the grid. In fact, independence from the capitalist grid is now almost impossible – just as possible as relocating the entire community to a remote area. Now the Guarani are being pressured to become sedentary and forever dependent on the national economy, stripped from achieving food sovereignty and the ability to roam the world according to their ancestral customs. From the standpoint of phenomenological justice, cityscapes can be traumatic, for they foster alienation from food production, plants, and other humans, inflicting stronger social and class barriers and reinforcing them. The privatization of public potential is an essential consequence of urban-industrial development in a world shaped according to neoliberal principles. The neoliberal world is utterly unjust when it comes to phenomenological justice, since the metropolis itself, made of concrete, industries, grids of asphalt and private property – the ultimate expression of advanced capitalism – constricts and oppresses, reinforcing conformity, and disrupting people's freedom of movement and relationships with the landscape. Asphalt is produced to serve rubber tires, and to ensure the faster transportation of goods, services, and people over an expansive dominated landscape. In a place like São Paulo, the fear of violence is always present, unpleasant surprises are expected, and people feel  15  safer from the dangers that lurk at every street corner locked into their cars. Land domination and privatization for the production of commodities is the most common method designed by capitalists for profiting over 'their land'. For Popyguá's people, the land is not supposed to be used for subsistence hunting and fishing, gardening and local agriculture anymore, nor as a ceremonial resting place for the community. The now mythical Guyra Pytã, according to Popyguá, is from the time people lived to be 120 years old. Now the rule of money and private property is impetuous and unwavering in constantly taking over land, and making people's lives harder. The Guarani have to resort to the standard colonial justice process to get 'compensatory measures', meaning a pay-off for the disruptions and deaths caused by generic 'economic development'. The social blindness that characterizes bureaucratic forms of domination comes from its dependence and reliance on statistics. It is deemed reasonable to translate suffering into a monetary calculation and assume that justice has been done. This is the path taken by the Canadian government in the case of traumas inflicted through the colonial and genocidal residential schooling system. Money and happiness go together in the capitalist world, propelled to expand into the future development and progress grounded on the dispossession of indigenous peoples. The deep naturalization of private property and dependence on money as fundamental pillars of dominant society, thoroughly protected by official colonial Law5, leading to the automatic eradication of any alternative to this model, are elements generated by the insidious work of hegemonic institutions shaping values and behaviours. This 'development and progress' are factors of the widespread embodiment of the ideology of profit at the deepest levels. Money can save the world now, driving an ideology that dominates the conceptual landscapes of profitability and production, expanding at the cost of local peoples in order to better serve the international market. Money, for the dominant, decision-making capitalist, can pay for any atrocity committed to the environment in the name of development and progress. The question we should be asking is 'what is it that money cannot buy?' One clear answer to this question that comes out of this research is that money cannot buy the return of the past that still exists, living, in the utopian drive of alternative thinkers and visionaries. “Until 1984 there was no light [electricity], and we lived in the dark. When night arrived, the first thing we did was to go into the casa de reza [prayer house]. When they installed electric light, they began buying television. With that, things changed a lot. But the material things are material things, and the spiritual part is the essential that has prevailed in the Guarani. I am 37 years old, and when I bater com as botas [beat with the boots = die], I 5  See also Rocha (2003), Barbosa (2001) and (Araújo (1995) for a collection of legal documents from law suits and epistemological struggles involving Brazilian indigenous peoples and capitalist developers.  16  always tell the youth who are here: “you are the future of the Guarani nation, you have to worry, maintain the language, maintain the tradition, maintain the culture”. Also to study, know how to read, but not to mix. Because the water and the oil do not mix, so why not take in parallel the Guarani (sic) knowledge and the juruá [white]?” (ISA 2006:32). At this point, the analogy of oil and water mirrors Popyguá's personal ontological experience with the different conceptions, spaces that come from the Guarani ideology and those that come from the dominant ideology of profit through privatization of space. Electricity and television have altered the values of the community, infusing it with an esthetics of ephemerality and a deep discipline of consumption (Appadurai 1996:178) that threatens the spiritual 'essential' part of the Guarani, accustomed not to the manufactured images of a box run by electricity inside a square room, but to life out in the open. In addition, the Guarani used to enjoy an experience of the dark that is now simply not possible by virtue of the size of the city and the number of lights on the ground competing with the stars. Progress and development bring negative phenomenological change upon everyone exposed to its transformations of space, designed for profitability, and dependent on the domination and privatization of spaces with or without local consent. In fact, there is no need for locals to consent to anything when an entrepreneur purchases a piece of land to develop. They have no say in somebody else's own business. As one common dominant logic goes, 'you earned that house with your hard work and the credits you have accumulated, and it is nobody else's business to tell you how or what to develop there – the land is there for the use of those who have the money to pay for it – we can ban anyone we want from the land we purchased with our hard work'. Popyguá's assertion that the Guarani cannot mix with the juruá but should know how to conduct two sorts of knowledge in parallel is an important ontological statement related to counter-hegemonic adaptation. Popyguá hints at something analogous to code-switching6 in bilingual individuals, denoting sharp epistemological differences, especially in relation to the production of space, the care of the landscape, and the collective body of the local community. Popyguá's intention is to adapt to the demands of the market while maintaining a level of autonomy, and generating revenue. He wishes to be plugged into the colonial grid by securing, legally, the privatization of Guarani lands for the community, and to find out more about how the dominant world works, to understand and to create an economic partnership with the branco. Popyguá continues: “Today the juruá children are educated for the world of the market. I think differently, I think the contrary, that the young Guarani be a representative of their people. And to create a project inside the aldeia, the part of tourism, of planting, so there's no necessity to leave. To 6  See also Scotton (1982) and Valentine (1994) for more on multiple code-switching and multilingualism.  17  craft artworks and export them to other countries. In my point of view globalization is not competition, globalization is to share with difference. For example, to know the United States is not a game of confrontation, but a game of knowledge, like having a connection [vínculo] of knowledge. To export the basket of the Guarani, the necklace of the Guarani, generates revenue for the community, keeps generating jobs, and there's no need to leave here to go to the Paulista Avenue or to the Praça da Sé, or República [public squares in the downtown area of São Paulo]. If we can achieve the growth of our area to nine or ten thousand hectares, then we can live with tranquility, not living from any charity [caritativo nenhum], but with the indios offering their own work, and through work generating revenue for the community. I think this. I will fight for this [batalhar nisso]. Instead of depending on the juruá, I would like a partnership” (ISA 2006:32). This session is the most revealing of the counter-hegemonic strategies that the present conditions demand, including the control of lands by the community through privatization and demarcation, the promotion of political leadership among youth, and finding ways to adapt to the tourism market through traditional crafts. Popyguá would like to 'share with difference' in the global market, but the domination of the ideology of the most dehumanizing facets of profit and development, objectified by mining, asphalt, clear cuts, and trains, confines them to the option of selling their culture as a commodity in what is actually a competing market. In the eyes of the dominant Western tourist, there are so many different indigenous groups they can visit far from the constant confusion, noise, and dangers intrinsic to daily life in the city of São Paulo. The partnerships that are available are usually extractive and resource-based, since the Guarani culture, much less externally flamboyant than many other indigenous indigenous groups in Brazil, is not valued as much as the profit that can be taken from the land are valued by mining corporations, cattle-raising and export oriented industrial monoculture agriculture. The most dominant and detached view would propose that the Guarani sell the lands they have and go 'live it up', or 'try their chances' in the highly hierarchical and pseudo-sophisticated cosmopolitan world. One of the options available is selling artifacts in open markets at downtown São Paulo squares, characterized by the intensity of the flux of people and car traffic, dominated by asphalt, rubber, concrete, noise, and ubiquitous commercial activity. “Many times the branco says that we have to preserve nature, but many times they only speak and do not do [só fala e não faz]. The Guarani loves nature in silence, through millenarian knowledge [conhecimento milenar]. Those who stay distant from nature become something hard, with a heart of stone. Because the city many times brings a lot of resources, and so they say that progress brings development, but it also brings destruction” (ISA 2006:32). Development, in this view, equals destruction. The argument is plain and simple - since development only happens with the privatization of public lands, the expropriation and domination of  18  spaces 'developed' is a violent act of destruction, inflicting geometrical boundaries arbitrarily on the landscape. Having a heart of stone is what it takes to become disconnected from the land and the forest, surrounded by a labyrinth of concrete plagued by the anonymity and disconnection of a world ruled by marketeers behind desks, spending their hours speculating with credits on computer screens. The Guarani is not a braggart regarding their environmentally minded practices, but “loves nature in silence”, unlike the whites who speak a lot about nature and do close to nothing to safeguard it. Our future, our development [different sense=ontological], for the Guarani means our knowledge [conhecimento]. To respect nature means development. It is different from the branco. I am suspicious when they talk about sustainable development [desenvolvimento sustentavel], development of I don't know what... In my language I would say involvement. In the Brazilian territory, before the Portuguese, when there were millions of indígenas, it was an area of use, but there was the right time to hunt and to harvest. There was already a plano de manejo (resource management) before the Portuguese. Why should [we] not do this with our children again?” (ISA 2006:32-33). Here Popyguá expresses his alternative vision of what development means, and it certainly has nothing to do with asphalt and capitalist expansionism. One of Popyguá's main concerns is with the village children, easily susceptible to being seduced by consumerism. The power of the illusions that exist in the system can easily strip people from any connection with lands that are not covered in asphalt and concrete. The system would like to see the Guarani become workers in the lowest possible socio-economic stratum, ultimately dependent on the processed products of 'civilization', alienated from subsistence off the land, and stripped from any chance of becoming economically independent. “Starting from the moment that they would demarcate and homologar [make official and legal], even if it were in the Mata Atlântica Park, certainly we will preserve. The land that we are fighting for takes a chunk off the Serra do Mar Park. I know that place very well, and I see a lot of hunters and palmiteiros [wild palm heart harvesters]. We will help to protect and to replant” (ISA 2006:33) Popyguá expects that Guarani lands will be officially recognized so that the Guarani can have a base from which to pursue preservation and resource management plans. Palm heart harvesting has been a longstanding problem in the region, depleting the forest to serve the national taste for palmitos, easy to find in almost any restaurant with a salad bar around São Paulo. One of the problems with Popyguá's proposal to expand is that it should take a chunk off a national park, leading to legal complications. He continues: “We are also inside an Area of Environmental Protection [Area de Proteção Ambiental], and this is a way to generate revenue not only in the aldeia. The culture, many times, is hidden. So not only the indígenas, but also the people who live here in the region of  19  Parelheiros, Marsilac, Cipó, here in the Barragem, there is also a lot of knowledge and we can teach the people in the city how to preserve nature” (ISA 2006:33). Popyguá hopes that the mainstream would value the lessons of his culture and be willing to be taught “how to preserve nature”. This is a very hopeful assumption. Today the push is more toward developing with 'sustainability' in mind rather than trying to 'preserve' anything. Preservation, for the capitalist, means that the land will be stagnated, and unproductive. One of the main Brazilian stereotypes about indigenous peoples is that there are too little índio for too much land. It is related to the notion that all land should be 'developed' into something productive or it is 'good for nothing'. This dominant idea is blind to the phenomenological value and the environmental benefits of having forests near inhabited areas. The forest, with colonialism, became a sign of beastliness that had to be stripped away, cleared out, and set up for production and easy management from the distance. With the triumph of colonialism, capitalists can take decisions from offices, transform and construct spaces even while disconnected and alienated from the land, and still make high profits. Popyguá continues, describing how he found transformative political and social power within a song he performed while in a trip to Portugal. This trip, ironically, was designed to celebrate, simultaneously, 500 years of both the 'indigenous resistance' and 'the discovery of America': “In 1992, there was an invitation from Portugal for someone who would go and represent the Guarani. And at the time I went there to represent the Guarani in 500 years of resistance. And there in Portugal they were commemorating the 500 years of the discovery of America. I went to Lisbon, and then proceeded to Algarves, where they left in the caravela (the type of sail ship from the 16th century) with Cabral. There were about 10 thousand people there participating in this party, there were ministers (government officials) there, and I was there. Then I came up and introduced myself. From the moment that I got up there, I remembered singing a song, a song that my grandfather, who is still alive, my mother's father, used to sing when I was five, four years old. At the time I got up, I took the microphone and sang. And at that time with ten thousand people, everyone became silent. I was alone there. And I climbed to the top, and sang. It seemed like everything stood still there. I sang. Then afterwards, I talked about my tradition, from which ethnicity I was from. I also spoke a little bit in Guarani (sic) with them” (ISA 2006:33). Popyguá's point in telling this story is that music is a powerful political instrument which is able to simultaneously contain, celebrate, and transmit culture while touching people ontologically with melodies imbued with meaning7. Music in general, and singing in public, can be powerful enough to make the audience listen quietly. Phenomenological justice can be realized through 7  According to Morris et al. (2000:100) the "arts are at the center of the Guarani's philosophy of life and at the center of their curriculum and pedagogy". For the Guarani, art is a "visual language that is capable of transmitting messages to its people", and so a type of dramatic performance was developed, which "included dance, music, rituals, art, and stories that told the history of the Guarani people, including colonialism and their process of self-determination" (Morris et al. 2000:109). Their cultural identity was strengthened, and children were more connected to their history through the process of performing these educational plays "for outsiders in the city of São Paulo" in the 1990s (Morris et al. 2000:109).  20  musical practice, as long as the music remains untouched by purely commercialistic intentions. Music can be conceived as an architecture of beauty that is able to move an entire audience simultaneously with its rhythms, harmonies and melodies, into a larger understanding and appreciation of local culture and language. This particular Guarani song has transcended generations in order to find an audience on another continent, in an double-edged occasion – celebrating the advent of colonialism and indigenous resistance at the same time, and in Portugal of all places, the place from whence came colonialism itself to Brazil. Popyguá remembered a song from his childhood on this special occasion, an event that would go unnoticed and that would have not been written about if the book Povos Indígenas no Brasil [Indigenous Peoples of Brazil] (ISA 2006) had not been published with his brief testimony. In 1996, when the meeting of the indigenous peoples happened in the Ibirapuera park, the Intertribol, they were discussing how to make the opening of the event. I stood there thinking, and remembered again of this song of my grandfather's. I could teach the children. I took five girls and five boys. I took the acoustic guitar and played, it turned out beautiful. Then we recorded a CD for the opening of the encounter (Intertribol). But when we were conversing with the elders, I said 'I thought of something different for the opening of the event.' And the elders said: “no! The singing of the children is something very relevant, and something sacred, why did you do that?, pressuring me. Only that, at this time, it had already come to my mind that from 1970 to 1980, and even from 80 until 90, the Guarani is considered a Guarani from the past, Guarani is a legend, acculturated [aculturado]. Not only the juruá, but also other indigenous nations also said that. Then I used to say that it was important at least to propagate [divulgar] the language, to promote the singing of the children to show that the Guarani is alive, that the Guarani is present, that the Guarani is also 21st century. I had that discussion. Then the elders began saying “I think it is alright, I think he is being reasonable [ele tem razao]” (ISA 2006:33). The Ibirapuera park is the largest in the city of São Paulo, a civic-artistic centre that houses the Legislative Assembly (city hall), the Biennal building, concert halls, a planetary, a 'Japanese house' with an ornamental garden and carps. The Ibirapuera park also retains a Tupi-Guarani name, which means 'a place where there were trees in the past'. It is surrounded by the city, and flanked by highly exclusivist areas dominated by the elite, neighbourhoods like Jardim Europa and Vila Nova Conceição, with some of the largest and most expensive houses and apartments in São Paulo. Popyguá is able to convince the elders that it was important to share with the world of the juruá even the sacred singing of the Guarani children. Pressured with the looming extinction of the Guarani way of life, Popyguá argues convincingly for the propagation of their local culture through juruá technology. The poverty and confinement to which their way of life is condemned, is largely determined by how accumulating capital and securing private property became naturalized as necessary dominant goals, providing the road to freedom, security and happiness. The Guarani  21  children singing, signify new life, and hope for a future of growth rather than oppression, stigma, and dispossession8. The work of adaptive counter-hegemony requires engagement with mainstream society, and commitment, not only to that engagement with difference, but also with ancestral Guarani principles that, although washed away by acculturation, can still be found in the language and customs that have remained. The only issue here is that the mainstream is not struggling like the Guarani for a fraction of the land taken away for the sake of industrial and speculative development. Recording technology has the potential of ensuring the survival of sounds particular to place and time into posterity, propagating an important message way beyond the reach of the artist. That is easily understood by Popyguá, who fears that the power of dominant society will soon sweep away every essential element that composes the Guarani epistemology that he is trying to preserve. Recorded sounds can be shared widely, with the caveat that they are taken out of context, even though they represent a context. Audio recordings, be them music or lectures, can make political messages more powerful and effective, strengthening the counter-hegemonic efforts of local groups. Still, it does not substitute the experience of the performance. The musical performance, however, only happens in the immediacy of the present, and can only be fully experienced directly. “Suddenly, during the opening of the event, that song played in the stadium. And everyone was surprised. João [da Silva, part of the political and religious leadership of the aldeia Bracuí, in Angra dos Reis/RJ] spoke like this: “wow, how beautiful. I also know this song, I used to sing it when I was a child”. It seems like that instant awoke everyone. Then everyone came back to the aldeia, already saying: “let us make a little band, I can teach the children.” Within a year, many aldeias already had a little band [grupinho]. In the old times [antigamente], as the day was coming down, the children would get together, and sang to purify [para ir purificando]. Afterwards, this did not happen anymore, and suddenly the CD and the choirs happened” (ISA 2006:33). The song is able to evoke memories from the childhood of others listening, immediately transcending space and time, and bringing into the present a feeling from the past, from sharing with others and learning from others the melodic formula contained in the song. If you wish to remember moments from the past willingly, it is still not something anyone is able to bring to their minds automatically. Songs, however, represent a very important moment in terms of phenomenological and ontological experience. Participation in musical performance and involvement with the song and its intricacies of meaning, harmony and melody, is usually a very powerful and memorable experience. 8  Many Guarani "suffer from long-term colonialism which creates infantilization and psychological damage", hindering "their ability to identify with their ancestral and historical memory of identity, resistance and organization" (Morris et al. 2000:112). For Morris et al., there is a "progressive disintegration" happening to the Guarani, as "[t]hey are increasingly isolated in miserable conditions on reservations or work as servant laborers" (2000:112). Morris et al. caution that "cultural colonialism if not an ivory tower theory but a very real force which impacts the reality of millions of people the world over" (2000:112).  22  It is not necessarily a routine type of experience, and the song acts like an environment or background, a very strong and influential layer in the making of memory. Later, the reproduction of the melody brings to life the memories from that period, informed by the environmental and emotional background encapsulated in the song. The children had to sing, however, on top of a prerecorded track on a CD, and not with live music. Excitement strikes everyone touched by the memory of the past and infused with hope for the future. Popyguá speaks of an awakening created by the song. It is almost as if the burden of being surrounded by a world of asphalt is suddenly washed away by the hope brought to the present through the music. This awakening has to do with the sacredness of the children's singing and with the belief that such singing is able to 'purify' the place. Such a purification, a cleansing of the physical, emotional, and symbolic dimensions of space and time, fortifies the resolve to act for the good of the community in the face of impending challenges. Popyguá continues with a reflection on the differences between his childhood and the conditions in which the Guarani live now: “In my childhood there were many religious ceremonies in the prayer house [casa de reza]. In my childhood nothing was missing, everything was made with honey, and coming out of the forest. All of that does not exist today anymore. Even if there was no demarcation of lands, there was a forest [mata] that was enough for survival” (ISA 2006:33) Food security and autonomy characterizes Popyguá's depiction of his childhood. He claims that nothing was missing before development, and everything they needed came straight out of the forest. The unstoppable growth of industrial development, traffic and the encroaching of dominated privatized spaces, has stripped the São Paulo Guarani from dwelling on the land and substituted it by poor nutrition, fragile health, and ultimate dependence on the neoliberal city grid. These forces have pressured Popyguá to advocate for the commodification of his own culture as a means to ensure the survival of as much as is left today that is essentially Guarani. Popyguá's most important point, however, is that even before the demarcation, that is, before a parcel of their lands was 'legitimized' as Guarani, it was easier to secure subsistence from the land. Now, the constrictions brought over their lands by the neoliberal market hunger for expansion, forces them to turn to the city for subsistence, entering society through the lowest possible stratum, ridden by the exclusionary force of prejudices associated with favelas, poverty, criminality, and antidevelopment and anti-progress backwardness. Popyguá then turns to a discussion of what the land, Ivyrupá, means for the Guarani: “The Guarani called it Ivyrupá, which means “land is only one”, it does not have the  23  geographical division. There were also no frontiers: Brazil, Argentina, Paraguai, Uruguai, Bolivia... it is something of the juruá. Inside the Guarani culture, it does not exist. That is why it is called Ivyrupá, or we call it Nhanderu Ivyrupá, “the land belongs to God”. And so the Guarani occupied a huge area, and that is why they spoke many times like this: “the Guarani are the originals [originais] of Paraguai, or of the Argentina, no from Brazil.” But this was Guarani territory. Who made the division were the brancos, it was not the indio who made it. This tradition is still being passed on today to our children” (ISA 2006:33). Popyguá now launches his discussion of the artificiality of imposed colonial boundaries. All these countries that we grow up believing bear the force of national identity onto the land and its inhabitants is a construction that has been imposed on the citizenry by the institutionalization of the colonial ethos, spearheaded by the epistemology of private property, intensification of production, and accumulation of capital. The Guarani reject the notion of private boundary making, calling the entire earth their home, since it is “only one”. Differences framed through nationalist lenses, encompassing a vast and socially diverse territory with a single, homogenous, constructed ideology, help to keep people critically disengaged and concentrated on conforming to a nationalist ethos, reinforced mainly by a widespread addiction to the stupefying force of the mass media. Freedom of movement allowed the Guarani to dwell extensively throughout a land that has now turned into a patchwork grid of private and exclusionary dominated property. Land that is now surrounded by the brutality of asphalt, devoid of green, and densely packed with dense, anonymous traffic. Popyguá ascribes the term “originals” to the Guarani, referring to the deep ontological connection fostered with the land by his people for thousands of years before the colonizers arrived, bringing with them a host of genocidal diseases and epidemics, organized hierarchical religion, slavery, land dispossession, and industrial development – the homogenizing disruption and domination of space, and the cultural destruction that characterizes the present inhumane social and spatial constrictions impending on the Guarani and other indigenous peoples, misunderstood and pushed into extinction for being epistemologically different. “The Guarani is always a pacific people, a people that does not confront, does not like violence, so much that the Guarani survive over 500 years keeping their language9, maintaining their culture, their own dance, maintaining it, in flight. And so it survived. And today we are 9 The conceptual strength of the Guarani language, and its resilience against the power of imposed European languages, is still alive in the "many Guarani cultural traits [that] have survived in modern mestizo Paraguay" (Turner and Turner 1994:159). Despite the "Hispanization of the majority of the residents, ninety percent of the population [in Paraguay] speaks an indigenous language, Guarani" (Turner and Turner 1994:139). Turner and Turner argue, however, that the Guarani language "has been manipulated since independence by the ruling elites to help forge the modern nation-state". In the construction of the "ethnonationality called 'Paraguayan'", the most important element is the Guarani language ( Turner and Turner 1994:160). In the "Chaco War with Bolivia (1932-1935)", for instance, the Guarani language was used to create a sense of patriotic pride, as "a symbol of national unity", and to confound the "enemy on the field" (Turner and Turner 1994:145). In the formation of the contemporary Brazilian language, indigenous and African substantives and verbs are part of the national colloquia. These non-European concepts have not modified the Portuguese grammar, but have rather become employable culturally by means of the Latin-based Portuguese grammar.  24  here, and alive, and spiritually strong, and politically strong. Because I think that today, we, young people, are in the front lines, I believe that we have to be ever stronger” (ISA 2006:33). Popyguá's final comments about the Guarani would cause skeptical scholars to point out immediately that his position is romanticizes a 'noble savage' vision of the Guarani. I find this attitude disturbing. The naturalization of violence as an ultimately unavoidable human phenomenon in the minds of many, prevents them from believing that an alternative could exist. Who are we, privileged Western academics, who flourish by citing each other to each other in conferences and publications, to judge what is unreal, realistic, romantic and naive in a culture we can barely understand and appreciate because we never had to deal with the same real life problems? We can claim we do not believe, but we cannot prove that alternatives to the current capitalist relationship with the land (i.e., domination, class, gender and ethnic based exclusion, exploitation, profiteering, privatization) have never been tried, could never be tried, or are not worth exploring in the search for viable alternatives to the present state. In July of 1980, the Guarani Marçal de Souza, assassinated in 1983, addressed John Paul II, the pope, during one of his periodical and official papal visits to the faithful of the country. The pope, the highest authority in the Catholic Church, is perceived by Marçal as a very powerful man who can change the world – the pope is a symbol of colonization but also a symbol of religion and righteousness somehow stripped from the violent, horrifying and gruesome past of the Catholic Church, one of the largest owners of private property in the world. The Catholic Church has a lot of demagogic power in Brazil, a country known for having one of the largest proportions of Catholics in it population. “Sanctity John Paul II, I am a representative of the great Guarani tribe. When in the primordial times, with the discovery of this great fatherland, we were as large as a nation and today I would not be able, as a representative of this nation, which lives today at the margins of the so-called civilization, Saint Father, we would not be able to keep quiet during your visit in this country” (Cunha 1987:182). Note that this passage is somewhat confusing grammatically, but its basic meaning is that the Guarani, once so numerous, have dwindled because of the so-called discovery of the land by Europeans and it is Marçal's responsibility to make this history clear on this occasion. It is interesting that the power of the pope is recognized instead of resisted. This recognition is realistic from a counter-hegemonic sense because, indeed, the proportion of Catholic faithful in the Brazilian population is staggering (around 80%), especially when compared to that of indigenous peoples (about 1%). Many Catholics, however, are not orthodox in their devotion to Catholicism, and adopt  25  alternative and syncretic religious ideas that fall outside of the Catholic scope10. The position of power and visibility occupied by the pope, for Marçal, represents the power to ultimately change society, and to convert the 'good people' to the indigenous cause, in opposition to the market. It is a dominant position that, if swung the indigenous peoples’ way, could bring a lot of leverage to the Guarani in the counter-hegemonic negotiations. Marçal, however, confronts the pope epistemologically by mentioning that his people have been stripped of their space through the development of what the branco calls civilization. One problem with this argument is that the type of white civilization brought over by the Portuguese is aligned with the expansionist desires of the Catholic Church, and the domination of Guarani lands and people has been carried out with the consent and endorsement of the Church. Marçal is trying to convince the highest authority of the Catholic Church to recognize that their 500 year old strategy of subduing and converting indigenous people into their own hierarchical form of organized religious ideology and practice has brought the enslavement and the destruction of his people. The world was already getting much smaller for the Guarani, and with the unleashing of dominant free-market neoliberal policies in the 1980s, things were about to get even worse. “As a representative of my people, why not speak of all the indigenous nations who inhabit this country that is getting ever smaller for us and so big for those who have taken this fatherland (Pátria) from us? We are a nation subjugated by the powerful (potentes), a nation of spoils, a nations that is dying slowly without finding the way, because those who have taken these lands from us have not given us conditions for our survival, Saint Father” (Cunha 1987:182). Marçal's address to the pope sounds like a lecture on colonialism that someone as educated as the pope should be very familiar with. Was it realistic for Marçal to imagine that the pope could invert the present conditions and lead away the development, growing exponentially and encroaching upon traditional lands now considered open free space for production and speculation? It is interesting that Marçal seems not to recognize the link between the Catholic Church and the suffering that has been imposed on his people. Perhaps Marçal realized that confronting the pope with accusations would not lead to any betterment of circumstances that brought so much suffering to his people.The land is already littered with memories from a past that still survives within the complexities of the Guarani language. These fragments of a different past are now being erased through the exclusionary domination of the landscape, Ivyrupá,land that is 'only one' and that belongs to the Creator, not to human property owners, let alone capitalist speculators pulling their strings of 10 A great number of people who have been baptized as Catholic, do not frequent a church every week, and do not consider themselves devotees, but have been usually baptized without having an option. Baptism and circumcision are rights that are most commonly performed without the consent of the infants on whom they are imposed.  26  destruction from their trendy offices, before tasting their expensive wines through the bliss that only ignorance from the consequences of their actions can bring. It is interesting that Marçal does not confront the pope as an agent of colonialism and dispossession, but as a source of hope, which turns history on its head for what seems to be a strategic purpose – propagating the Guarani plight and touching the powerful in order to achieve positive change. “Our lands are being invaded, our lands are being taken, our territories diminished, we have no more conditions for survival. We weight towards your Sanctity our misery, our sadness for the death of our leaders, murdered coldly by those who have taken our land, that which for us represents our own life and our own survival in this great Brazil, called a so-called Christian country” (Cunha 1987:182). This passage contains Marçal's urgent address to the pope – a brief description of the sort of dispossession that Brazilian indigenous peoples have been facing, followed by an attempt to 'weight' their 'misery and sadness' over the 'sanctity' of the pope, who should be ruling this paradoxically “Christian country”. Something that has always gone along with Catholicism is the ultimate contradiction of its murderous past and hierarchical, gender exclusive, present, safeguarding pedophiles, doing 'charity', and preaching the word of Christ. The cold blooded murders of the Guarani leadership – assassinated in order to secure the capitalist encroachment upon the land – clear the way for corporate profitability and 'development' by disrupting irremediably local socioeconomic, cultural, and subsistence practices. “I represent here the Central-South of this country, the nation Kaingang which has recently lost its leader. Painkaré was assassinated in the North East. A leader was lost because he wanted to fight for our nation. He wanted to save our nation, bring redemption to our people, but he didn’t find redemption, he found death. There is still one hope for us with your visit, Saint Father, you will be able to take them away from our territories, because we do not have the conditions, because we have to be subjugated by the powerful. Our voice is censured by those who call themselves the directors of this great country” (Cunha 1987:182). The extreme violence and trauma of murder are routine elements for indigenous people and the propertyless11, struggling to secure themselves a place to find autonomy in the world. The leaders in the government, the bureaucracy, protectors of private property and private interests over the land, are not willing to listen to indigenous claims for sovereignty over their lands. Their plight for security against the ignorance that comes with conformity to market forces and neoliberal destitution is read by mainstream agents as a statement of backwardness against 'progress'. Painkaré's death certainly did not make the mainstream news, nor did it scratch the consciousnesses of conforming dominant agents of progress, who were following their routine through the grid-based labyrinth of private 11 See also Barcelos (2001) for a detailed account of how the São Paulo police has killed more poor people without a criminal record than actual criminals.  27  property of the massive urban sprawl, in their own quest for survival. Marçal addresses the pope directly again: “Saint Father, we have deposited a great hope in your visit to our country. Take our clamour, our voice through other territories which are not ours, so that the people, a population more human, would fight for us, because our people, our indigenous nations are disappearing in Brazil. This is the country that was taken from us. They say that Brazil was discovered, Brazil was not discovered at all. Saint Father, Brazil was invaded and taken from the indigenous peoples of Brazil. This is the true history. The true history of our people was never told, Saint Father. I leave here my plea. I appeal for the 200 thousand indigenous persons who inhabit and fight for the survival of this country so large and yet so small for us, Saint Father. We deposit our faith in you Senhor, as representative of the Catholic Church, chief of humanity, that you shall take our voice so that still our hope encounters repercussions around the international world. This is the message I leave for you Senhor” (Cunha 1987:182-183). Marçal hopes that the pope, 'the chief of humanity', deeply taken by his narrative, will work to help indigenous peoples free themselves from the grip of colonial authority, by instructing the 'people' about the gruesome realities that he describes. Marçal considers the 'people' who follow the pope 'more human' than those who have been killing Guarani leaders in order to ultimately take over their lands on the name of progress and development. Brazil has always been there for the Guarani until the arrival of the Europeans and their 'discovery' deception. The pope is an agent of the invasion described by Marçal. The idea that the country was actually 'discovered' by Europeans is a widespread instrument of nationalistic indoctrination that blinds the population from seeing the violence pressuring indigenous Brazilians into socio-cultural and historical oblivion.  The  notion of 'discovery' seeks to erase the history of indigenous peoples in the continent, stripping away their cultural legitimacy and right to epistemological difference. The pope's answer was brief, expressing his conformity to the processes of the neoliberal state: “I trust the public powers and others responsible the votes I make with all my heart in the name of the Lord: I ask you, whose ancestors were the first inhabitants of this land, obtaining over her a particular right along the generations, let it be recognized your right to inhabit this land in peace and serenity, without terror - the true nightmare. - of being displaced in the benefit of others, but secured of a vital space which will be the base, not only for your survival, but for the preservation of your identity as a human group, as a people. To this complex and spiny (espinhosa) question I hope that an answer be given that is pondered, opportune, and intelligent for the benefit of everyone. In this way the liberty and dignity of everyone of you will be respected and favoured: as a human being and as a people” (Cunha 1987:198). The pope can just speak directly to God and “trust [that] the public powers” will be dealing with the issue properly. The pope's political position forces him to conform to the status quo and to support the local government in whatever they do, as the ultimate authorities on local matters. This is  28  quite a disappointment for Marçal and his people. Again, his plight is ignored, and the solution to his people's problems is vested on the hands of the very government that has promoted their destruction on behalf of the market and its demands. Note that the same such 'public powers' are the bearers, legitimizers, and protectors of private property, a foundational epistemological pillar of capitalism, and the instrument for the dispossession and market-based enslavement of all poor peoples. The pope recognizes, however, that the need for autonomy and the preservation of their social identity is important. The contradiction lies in the fact that just the official recognition of a right to their own lands, does not automatically secure the preservation of their identity or mode of dwelling. That are plenty of well intentioned laws in the Brazilian Constitution that are never put into practice even if they look very nice in paper. It is the case, for instance, of every citizen's right to housing, which is a fiction that looks nice in paper, but does not correspond to the reality. The pope does not hope that justice be made for the Guarani, but rather that a “pondered, opportune, and intelligent” answer be given “for the benefit of everyone”. This sounds absolutely unrealistic and dismissive. The logic we are expected to believe assumes that the pope himself will plead to God with all his heart, which is his job, and then, hopefully, the authorities in charge will somehow recognize and secure a space for the Guarani, and at the same time 'benefit everyone'. I believe that the pope's reference to the need for something “pondered, opportune, and intelligent” is a reaction to the tone and strong emotions that coloured of Marçal's address. For the pope, the social stature of a simple indigenous person could not possibly lead to something pondered, opportune, let alone intelligent. As we have seen in the description and analysis of Popyguá's narrative, land demarcation does not come automatically with socio-cultural security, economic independence, nor do food security and sovereignty.  29  Envolvimento as Counter-Hegemonic Adaptation to Neoliberal Space The narratives I have just analysed are stories that portray a nostalgia for an ontology of the past that transcends the limitations of private property – a radical epistemology of meaningful landscapes meant to be experienced through dwelling wholesomely on the land, and not in the dismembered and alienated way enforced by an urban environment that is founded on the exclusivist hierarchy of neoliberal capitalism. Popyguá's conception of space, evoked from the pre-colonial past, is incompatible with the capitalist demand for grids and geometric patterns, an ontology of asphalt designed for increased export productivity. Long roads, in the Guarani case, are meant for walking long distances and experienced directly, at a walking pace, along with relatives, and not by means of motor vehicles – the 'reason' for the existence of the gas and rubber industries, some of the most environmentally destructive practices ever invented by humans. Brazilian indigenous peoples have been facing continual dispossession, displacement, and enclosure. Reinforced by a teleological notion of 'progress', such disruption is brought upon the Guarani and other indigenous groups by the indiscriminate spread of private property and the systematic removal of local executive power and autonomy. Since the Guarani epistemology is incompatible with the idea of private property for production, it cannot be validated by the dominant society. When it comes to dealing with the actual constraints of the present conditions, however, it is by embracing the idea of private property that indigenous peoples in Brazil can hope to help their cultures survive, after over 500 years of colonial exploitation and destruction. Popyguá called this adaptation 'envolvimento', a substitute for the current mainstream idea of 'development', that he sees as a means to secure more socio-cultural and economic independence. The caveat is that such independence comes with ultimate dependence on the dominant system, the city grid, industry, traffic, density and pollution. Their traditional way of living can only be encapsulated within protected forest areas and recognized indigenous lands. In the abstract, recognized lands can be utilized and controlled by the indigenous group, but on the ground, such recognized lands can still be invaded, taken away or cut up into illegal lots and sold away. Policies do not necessarily translate into the appropriate action in Brazil, proud of the tradition of the Brazilian jeitinho – working around the system and the law to get things done more conveniently and faster, cutting through bureaucratic barriers by means of social relationships with people inside the government. This sort of corruption is certainly not something uniquely Brazilian, but it is a widespread phenomenon in the country, often  30  referred to proudly. By publicly professing beliefs that transcend the ideological limitations of dominant models of spatial design founded on the notion of private property and the ideology of profit, indigenous leaders like Popyguá (ISA 2006), amongst others, participate in a counter-hegemonic project that has been gaining political momentum and receiving international funding and attention. This challenge, however, in order to be effective, must take place within the ideological framework, conceptual boundaries and shortcomings of dominant colonial subjects and bureaucrats, and must embody hegemonic elements in order to be able to transform reality positively. The notion of private property, once used to dispossess indigenous peoples, is now used, in hindsight, for the protection, sociocultural self-direction, economic development, and the potential reproduction and development of local epistemologies. This shows how the 'privatization of public potential' is double edged – it can work in favour of capitalists, with the erasure of public potential from dominated lands, or by indigenous groups, with the transformation of privatized lands into a locally managed community. Lands made private, can be, through the composition of community-minded internal by-laws, transformed into a 'public place'. An alternative vision of land use and belonging, not just the cold concept of 'property', stems from the way the Guarani language describes the experience of the landscape, and emerges from Popyguá's narratives about the past. The social power of the widespread belief in private property, the internal logic of capital accumulation, and the cult of indiscriminate profit are but a few of the ideological principles of neoliberalism threatened by the reaffirmation of indigenous conceptions of space and their eventual achievement of sovereignty over local resources. The hegemonic language and categories of distinction set up by the legal system guarantee, to the elites, an advantage for the acquisition and control of privileged socio-political positions of power and decision making. Such positions are filled mainly by individuals and companies who are able to secure their own wealth through the domination and dispossession of others, conforming to the classical colonial understanding of land use – a relationship founded upon the domination of land for the accumulation of profit and intensified production in a global market. Nation-state bureaucracies are annoyed by indigenous land claims and their effects on the certainty of profitability and production on dominated lands. Indigenous peoples, therefore, “are perceived as a threat to national unity and security or to economic development” and can be considered “backward or degraded and in need of conversion to a new religion, economic system, or way of life” (Miller 2003:209). The dominant ideology to which counter-hegemonic discourse must adapt, is grounded on  31  the ultra-urban, exploitative, brutal and inhumane capitalist environment that has documented, privatized, and dominated the Brazilian landscape. Ironically, lands that were once meaningful and full of cross-generational stories are now buried under a patchwork of asphalt and barb-wire separating the poverty of public spaces from the clean exclusion of the private world. In order to extricate our bodies and senses from the absolutist domination of space generated by the mathematical epistemologies of “Newtonian/Cartesian space”, we should challenge “the mechanistic and absolute ways by means of which the body is contained and disciplined” (Harvey 2000:100). Counter-hegemonic adaptations and accommodations to realistic constraints imposed by the nature of the capitalist understanding of private space are expressed in ideas such as “involvement instead of development” (em vez de desenvolvimento, envolvimento) professed by Popyguá. This idea demands direct involvement with powerful business partners. It does not challenge all elements of the dominant value system. Instead, it longs for participation in profitable enterprises as long as certain cultural limitations and demands are met, including plano de manejo (resource management), protecting and replanting the Mata Atlântica (Atlantic forest), and teaching people from the city how to “preserve nature” (Popyguá, in ISA 2006:31-33). The ideological intersection between the world that emerges from narratives like Popyguá's and the world subjected to the dominant order, generates a call for partnership and involvement that stems from a traditional ontology, passed on through stories about dwelling on the land and walking long distances, reinforcing relationships with relatives and the land. The deep naturalization of private property as the right way to relate to the land is infused with social and political power today that expresses colonialist attitudes. Any realistic strategy to secure a level of autonomy and independence from the system must secure, first and foremost, the definition, demarcation, bounding, fencing, that is, the privatization of the land. Only after the privatization of lands for the use of a recognized indigenous group is effectively legalized, can an internal strategy for making them communal within those boundaries be devised and established. According to the dwelling perspective, the whole world has to feel like being at home. Dwelling is “not limited to one sphere of activity among many”, submissive to the hegemonic separation between domestic life, work and travel (i.e., dismembered dwelling), but “[r]ather it encompasse[s] the whole manner in which one lives one's life on the earth; thus 'I dwell, you dwell' is identical to 'I am, you are'” in addition to preserving, caring for, and cultivating the soil (Ingold 2000:185). What neoliberalism has generated in space is a dismemberment of the holistic sense that dwelling once had. Today, this survives in stories about a distant utopian past that is considered  32  romantic, unrealistic, a construct of colonial pressures lacking the authenticity and epistemological authority of the established scientific logic. Free trade and the hegemonic power inherent in neoliberal ideology have plagued the poor everywhere and created more disparities while boasting exorbitant profits in the multinational corporate-industrial world. The constant objectification of the raw ideological power of neoliberalism shapes architecture, which in turn conditions behaviour, and generates institutional practices that make detached exploitation possible. The dynamic between the physical spaces inhabited by humans, architectures and landscapes, comes to life in the stories people tell about their experiences in struggles for land autonomy and political sovereignty. To survive as propertyless people in a world of private property and intensified production is a very dangerous and fragile enterprise, for when displacement and dispossession come, they come with the full endorsement of the legal system and governmental powers12. The dominant practices and opinions that neoliberalism creates, as an advanced form of capitalist ideology, are designed to seize control of mass information networks and instil periodic and repetitious behaviour in the intimate arena of the body. This ontological rhythm disciplines the body to be subservient to “the commodity culture of consumer capitalism” (Appadurai 1996:67). Periodicity and repetition transform the body by means of subjective ontological and phenomenological experiences with hegemonic ideas and practices, and weave a logical system that makes perfect sense for the subject, explaining the world and allowing for participation and success. The body, consequently, begins to operate according to embodied rules that provide the logical basis (i.e., the mythological potential) for the practices of consumer capitalist commodity culture. The more this is done in a non-reflexive way, without questioning critically the phenomenological merits of the activity, the more productive and faithful the body of the follower becomes, and the stronger is the grasp the ideology has on the individual's practices. The institutionalization of the current hegemonic point of view and its ideology of practice, depends on the transformation of individuals into conservative and static specialists ranked into distinct and self-evident socio-economic classes, locked into bubbles of tightly disciplined practical and conceptual regimes, and teleological epistemologies. This institutional fragmentation of the subject became deeply rooted in the way that capitalist architecture has now circumscribed dwelling,  12 See Fix (2001) for a thorough description of the process of dispossession and removal of favelados from an area they had occupied for over 50 years in order to clear out space for the development of super-protected corporate buildings projects in the Águas Espraiadas region in São Paulo.  33  which happens within the building, instead of having building as “circumscribed within dwelling” (Ingold 2000:185). The difference is simple – for instance, whereas urbanites now buy standardized apartments with money, built by unknown others (i.e., architecture circumscribing dwelling), in a more wholesome dwelling mode, people will design and build their own architecture, collaborating with their bare hands and developing their own community (i.e., building as part of dwelling). Long distance communal walking through Ivyrupá, as a dwelling mode, incorporates the transformation of the landscape into a cultural and linguistic history, physically, socially, and conceptually, and it is antithetical to the spatial domination of capitalism and its confining architectural productions.  34  Hegemonic Consciousness and Counter-Hegemonic Action Hegemony is the collective generative power of the discourse of dominant intellectuals designed to craft “organizational and connective” functions in society (Gramsci 1971:12). The ideology inseminated by hegemonic intellectuals cultivates the popular phenomenon Gramsci refers to as “spontaneous consent” (1971:12). Hegemonic intellectual activity, for Gramsci, can make a real difference “in moments of extreme opposition”, because it creates, at the highest levels, the conceptual and logical systems of “various sciences, philosophy, arts”, directing ideologically “humble 'administrators' and divulgators of pre-existing, traditional, accumulated intellectual wealth” (Gramsci 1971:13). One of the results of hegemonic intellectual activity is, for Gramsci, the mass formation of “standardized individuals” (1971:13) who inherit a consciousness about the past that is “uncritically absorbed” (1971:333). Hence, hegemony is the product of dominant and influential intellectual activity that generates a particular internal logic that is absorbed and turned into action by its converts. Such conversion is mediated through the body, by practical means, through repetition and indoctrination, making the critical awareness of such a conversion hard to achieve from within. The power of the hegemonic logic lies in the ability to generate action in the form of bodily practices, which include complacency and conformity to dominant attitudes (i.e., a form of bodily action). One clear example of a hegemonic ideology turned into action is the military. The soldier's job is to follow orders, and not to question his superiors, and he is indoctrinated to perform exactly as expected of him, propelled by the notion that his failure in battle, or inability to follow orders jeopardizes the well being and survival of his entire country, his mother, wife, children, and religion. If, somehow, suddenly, this stereotypical-hypothetical soldier is fully converted to an ideology of peace, he will not be able to hold a gun again, and the entire logical system inscribed subjectively by hegemonic indoctrination begins to fall apart, and it will eventually lose all its 'logical' power. Effective counter-hegemony would have the ability to convert the dominant to an alternative epistemology. The type of counterhegemony this thesis deals with does not yet have enough propagandistic power to lead to the standardization of a critical understanding and appreciation of Brazilian indigenous peoples and their ongoing struggle with colonialism and expropriation. Widespread prejudice against alternative ways of knowing and dwelling, and space-time constrictions, pressure every inhabitant of São Paulo in such a way that trying to pay attention to issues of social justice becomes an extra commitment that few are willing to undertake.  35  Colonized bodies, operating under the constraints of the conceptual logic of the dominant ideology, are signifiers of class, gender, and ethnicity, and generate responses and reactions according to their position in space and time. Someone who walks barefoot into a restaurant as a poor or indigenous person will be asked to leave or will be excluded by force. Her body broke a social boundary in privatized space that justifies her exclusion on account of a common-sense, a consensus absorbed and signified by her body in relation to others and their position of power. Widespread beliefs strengthen the acceptance of and dependence on dominant logic and practices. Any attempt to challenge the notions and relationships that are part of the common-sense world encounters powerful resistance (Scheper-Hughes 1992:199). This explains the need for counter hegemony to understand and imitate hegemony in order to make a difference and influence reality in a positive way, working towards phenomenological justice and institutional transformation. Understanding of how hegemony operates in a system is essential for the counter-hegemonic enterprise to be successful. Participation and involvement are also essential, as my analysis of Popyguá's discourse suggests. The conversion of influential hegemonic intellectuals should be one of the most important objectives of the antineoliberal counter-hegemonic project13. Counter-hegemonic agents should strive to master the system that supports the hegemony to understand it, participate in it, and ultimately potentially transform it or subvert it. In order “to build a more radically empowered and empowering system of democratic governance that can be both liberatory and transformative", writes Harvey, we should consider Unger's “three key varieties of empowerment" - the opening up "of social life to practical experimentation", the strengthening of "our self-conscious mastery over the institutional and imaginative frameworks of our social experience" and the cleansing of group life from "some of its capacity to entangle people in relations of dependence and domination and to turn them into the faceless representatives of predetermined roles" (Unger 1987:363-4 In Harvey 2000:187). Counter-hegemonic action should be deeply informed through what Unger refers to as “selfconscious mastery” over the social, cognitive, and structural constraints that pressures us to become dominant agents who uncritically protect and perpetuate the status quo. The power of the dominant ideology is such that it generates an insulated logical system used freely to justify repressive actions, including the domination of public spaces and their eventual privatization. The power of the modern state and nationalism is strengthened and legitimized by the hegemonic project – the incessant 13 See also Bourdieu (1998 and 2003[2001]) for a selection of writings designed to urge scholars to engage in a critical and thorough demystification of neoliberalism and its negative consequences, which are antithetical to my notion of phenomenological justice.  36  managerial and bureaucratic work of administrative and scientific missions, responsible for the institution of an official model for “population management and exploitation, and resource expropriation in both the colonies and the metropolis” (Goldman 2001:502). Counter-hegemony, in its most simple form, is a form of public and political intellectual activity that opposes and attempts to subvert established notions of the so-called status quo – including but not limited to the ideology of the state and its propagandistic media, industrial capitalism, military subservience, class boundaries, and the hierarchical religious elites in power. Counter-hegemony is also highly adaptable and not necessarily oppositional and radicalized, as is explicit in Popyguá's idea of envolvimento instead of desenvolvimento. It is not just a stubborn opposition against development, but rather the recognition of the unstoppable bulldozing power of current development trends (e.g., the expansion of asphalt, privatization, and pollution of public lands, the destitution of the propertyless). Popyguá's plea for involvement is a call for partnership with powerful economic allies who can help them maintain the land. The land, according to the status quo must be productive, and when they are inhabited by índios, misunderstood as nonproductive members of society, such lands run the risk of being considered wasted and barren. One way, for instance, that neoliberal industrialism makes such 'barren' lands productive is by installing mines or monoculture plantations that end up generating social suffering that often goes unaccounted for, buried by the weight of profitability. The Guarani dwelling mode, immersed in an ontological relationship with the landscape, sharply contrasts with the current rate and mode of development – domination and privatization. The sheer strangeness of the fact that people would walk thousands of kilometres following a river to spend time with distant relatives can and does generate the type of prejudice that hinders the understanding of alternative ways of dwelling and living on the land. Urbanites are bred in a world full of roads, cars, and concrete buildings, largely stripped of trees and wild animals, disconnected from their food source, hypnotized by television and technologies of communication. We hope to thrive in this world, working hard for our money, our careers and reputations, for that fancy fast car, ultra-secured private properties, designer suits – to live cozily, protected from the dangers of the unruly alternative world beyond our understanding and control. It is very safe and comfortable to brush radical alternatives out of our sight and ignore them, since they do not make sense in the concrete logic of development and progress that surrounds us. Let us now consider how exclusionary boundaries are essential to the maintenance of the status quo.  37  Colonial Boundary Making and Private Property Domination The epistemological utopianism emerging in Popyguá's narrative is utterly incompatible with the dominant notion of private property. The ideal of restoring the romantic relationship with the land that is believed to once have existed before the colonizers is not achievable in 21st century Brazil. The practical existence of a 'romanticized 'relationship with the land cannot be verified. Visions of how to improve, however, the current dominant way of dealing with the land are not hard to find, for the lack of satisfaction with the current system is widespread though mostly ineffective. Counterhegemony should strive to understand, through participation with the hegemonic world (i.e., infiltration), in order to bend it into a direction that is closer to the ideals of phenomenological justice - an important epistemological struggle that must be undertaken, also, both within and without academia. The urban world is a cage with large enough holes to squeeze oneself out like a mouse, first subjectively, and perhaps one day ontologically, when and if phenomenological justice becomes an aesthetic and developmental imperative. We can be certain, however, that utopian imaginings and conceptualizations are worth exploring, not just subjectively, but through their possible implications in reality (i.e., through radically restructured full dwelling architecture, the discovery of more viable, clean and popular alternatives modes of transportation, and so on). The very low proportion of recognized and self-declared indigenous individuals in the Brazilian population makes a shift into an alternative mode of dwelling radically opposite to private property almost impossible. If private property is secured, however, it can be reconfigured by its owners according to culturally relevant principles, becoming communal within its own 'private' boundaries, as I have argued previously. The subversion of private property through privatization becomes a more realistic possibility. The colonial urban world is modelled spatially on a productive mixture of plantation plot architecture and mass production line, army-precision urban aesthetics, with a predominance of straight lines, square angles, and grid structures. The ontological experience of this 'logically' divided, grid-like geometric world produces an environment that fosters the formation of “uncritically absorbed” archetypal mass subjectivities, Gramsci's “standardized individuals” (1971:13). Such standardized ontologies are designed to reproduce a capitalist epistemology that renders exploitative actions logical and reasonable beyond any doubt, and for the sake of profit and production – conformity to the demands of the global market. Packaged and controlled by the policies and practices of imperial, corporate-industrial, profit driven capitalism, these individuals will  38  spend most of their lifetime committed to the market, perpetuating the cycle of compulsive production, consumption, and capital accumulation. This is what any counter-hegemonic project founded on a more wholesome notion of dwelling must struggle to transform. Harvey (2000:186) argues for more commitment “to the exploration of liberatory alternatives", more “on social processes and institutional/personal transformations". Following Unger (1987) Harvey argues that it is only “out of critical and practical engagements with the institutions, personal behaviours, and practices that now exist” that alternative epistemologies can emerge. Special attention should be given to “the arrangements arrived at through the Western versions of democracy that have emerged out of the long history of capitalism)" (Harvey 2000:186). Involvement with institutional structures does not necessarily mean that the subversion of the institution and its transformation into a sublimated form will lead to phenomenological justice. By changing our institutional world we "can change ourselves at the same time, as it is only through the desire to change ourselves that institutional change can occur" (Harvey 2000:186). The domination of space is inherently violent, since it undermines the public potential of places, enthroning the “specific rationality" of division, multiplication and accumulation, "bureaucracy and the army – a unitary, logistical, operational and quantifying rationality" (Lefèbvre 1991[1974]:280). Colonial boundary-making sanctions and reinforces the domination and privatization of public lands, legitimizing the process of invasion through documents – maps drawn two-dimensionally in a manner that resembles, for Cruikshank, “a child’s concentrated efforts to connect unruly dots” (2005:12-14). Colonial bureaucrats, fulfilling their roles as agents of dispossession through maps and official documents, are living examples of a deep lack of familiarity with and alienation from the landscape, and an utter dependence on the nationalist ideology and the capitalist logic of the state to support their actions. The struggle for establishing boundaries between public and private property shows how “physical landscapes came to furnish clues for thinking about social order”; this hierarchical order based on the accumulation of capital and the transformation of the land into an alienated commodity works to render invisible the indigenous “values inhering in landscape features [which] provided ways of imagining reciprocal relationships among humans and with an ever-responding land” (Cruikshank 2005:214). The problem today is that now we can only imagine these so-called indigenous relationships, but we cannot live them, because the domination of the landscapes that surrounds us is consolidated, and our personal survival depends on how much we are willing to compromise and conform. What is clear for Cruikshank is certainly not clear for mainstream São  39  Paulo urbanites, unable to understand that the landscape that surrounds them was once alive with values and meanings conceived through the framework of completely different languages and cultures. Bred around social injustice, trucks, buses, cars and motorcycles, elevators, asphalt, crime, smog, uncontrollable noises, daily anxiety, mindless mass entertainment, and extreme population pressures, the mainstream São Paulo urbanite has learned to survive by taking care of their own position in society, struggling daily, and feeling proud to be able to make it through such a phenomenological mess. The progressive integration of indigenous peoples into Brazilian society, prescribed by law, gave the governmental program called SPI, Serviço de Proteção ao Índio (Service of Protection to the Indian) the power to classify tribal groups into categories such as nomadic and arranchados or aldeiados – sedentary. Those groups in “indigenous populations” and those that had been “incorporated into agricultural centres, where they live as civilized” (Ribeiro 1995:226). The lack of familiarity of dominant bureaucratic colonial subjects with the landscape generated “a new kind of boundary with distant roots” that emerged from socially homogenizing nationalist hegemonic projects, and that conferred jurisdictional authority to colonialist bureaucrats and 'landowners' by envisioning “firm partitions along clearly marked lines” (Cruikshank 2005:213214). The Portuguese found it perfectly valid, through the Tordesilhas Treaty, to imagine a line going west, then cut the land from North to South arbitrarily in a straight line, and finally divide whatever lands fell East of that among entrepreneurial colonial magnates regardless of the fact that several indigenous nations had been living there for thousands of years. This alienating process subjects them to dehumanizing managerial decisions made on behalf of shareholders whose practices are guided by speculations on statistics. The government reflects the industrial demands like a tamed beast of burden. The institution of official postos is designed to engage indigenous individuals and collectivities with pre-set homogenizing objectives. The government created such postos to attract indigenous peoples, to guard the national frontiers, and to assist, nationalize and educate them through “cattle raising and alphabetization” (Ribeiro 1995:226). Compared to the Canadian approach with residential schools, which dispossessed children of their parents and languages, this Brazilian practice utilized pre-existing poverty and economic dispossession to create dependence and to instil dominant values. Conformity, for the colonized labour force, is presented as the only means for survival. Postos of ‘attraction’ recruit indigenous individuals and seek to instil the dominant nationalist ideology in preparation for participation in the economy as labourers. The posts that deal with frontier surveillance (i.e., vigilance) are clearly militaristic – they are set up to maintain and watch over property that now 'belongs' to the state. Posts  40  of assistance, nationalization and education, alphabetization and cattle raising are all related to posts of attraction, and again play a central role in the substitution of indigenous values, language, ideologies and epistemologies, for values pre-packaged by the hegemonic propaganda apparatus. In addition to the nationalist assimilation strategy set in action through such official postos, colonialists created a trade to deal with the indigenous problem – bugreiros – armed killers whose life work was to exterminate indigenous peoples, pressuring survivors to be assimilated and join the lower strata of the capitalist system. It was during the periods of colonial migration into the states of Paraná and Santa Catarina, early in the twentieth century, that professionals were hired to exterminate indigenous peoples, these bugreiros specialized in chacinas (mass killings), and funded “by colonizing societies and by public money” to expel them from the lands they have always inhabited and that was then “destined to German and Italian immigrants” (Ribeiro 1995:148). The official ideology of the time created sanguinary practices that generated a culture of violence that has evolved into its present state, represented by cities like São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro, where the fear of violence is a constant epistemological burden that generates its own industry of protection (e.g., the growth of the armoury industry for domestic cars is a clear example of how the fear of violence shapes daily practices today). Everywhere where there has been the expansion of private property for the sake of profitable economic exploitation of natural resources, be it in exportation and extraction (e.g., gold, rubber), urban development, and agricultural colonization (e.g., sugar cane, coffee, and soy), the success of the process has been paired with the inhuman obliteration of alternative ways of being. This process of destruction goes hand in hand with the dissemination of the hegemonic notion that money is worth more than people, which is predominant today. As Popyguá put it, the 'whites think that money can save the world'. The dominant capitalist ideology dictates that humans be valued more according to what they possess and to their success working within the economic system than according to what their creative dwelling potential is. This is especially true if we come to challenge the pillar principles that legitimize and maintain the stability of the dominant in power – those who occupy “a position in the structure such that the structure acts on [their] behalf” and who “define the regularities and sometimes the rules of the game” (Bourdieu 2005:195).  41  Conclusions –The Privatization of Private Potential as Counter-Hegemonic Strategy Communities that could be considered indigenous evolve in direct relation with the rapid flux of identities across shifting boundaries, but always at the mercy of the dominant values and “external understandings” imposed by “armies of professionals” who impose “systems of classification of groups” that reflect a lack of understanding of particular cultural practices (Miller 2003:210-211). That is to say, indigenous epistemologies that somehow affect a pillar of dominant society are perceived as dysfunctional and treated as symptoms that have to be eliminated from their practices like social diseases. Once this opinion about indigenous peoples begins to circulate widely and to gather social force, it can easily be made official in legal codes and policies. The objectification of this ideology into codes, behavioural rules demanded by legislators, reflects configuration and uses of institutional and public places, and are later incorporated and translated into practices of exclusion, stereotyping and social control. Poverty, in the capitalist world, can be manipulated to ensure voluntary assimilation by indigenes in return for basic needs such as “housing, medicine, and food” (Miller 2003:211). Capturing benefits that come from official recognition as an indigenous person in many cases leads to cases of individual and group “poseurs” whose “fakery captures the attention of state officials on high alert for boogeymen” which in turn has the potential to damage the “legitimate aspirations of the suppressed groups within their jurisdiction” (Miller 2003:210-211). Alternatives to the epistemology 'of production for profit through private property', like that of the Guarani, are constantly prosecuted, invalidated, and brushed aside as worthless by status quo ideologues. Counter-hegemonic adaptation requires understanding capitalist practices, and adapting to the demands of the market through a partnership with the juruá (white) world without losing agency to shape the future of their differentiated culture and community. Popyguá urges his own people to 'share with difference'. The politicization of the youth is essential in order to secure a positive balance between sharing with the neoliberal world and maintaining local autonomy and control over development and decision-making.Indigenous Brazilian peoples have been resisting for over 500 years, consistently forced through much pain and destruction. The situation is not ideal today, nor could we ever claim they are better off now than before the 16th century arrived with the greed and the slavery that have been taking new shapes, mutata corpora in novas formas, as Ovid remarked over 20 centuries ago. This study shows that a new form of intellectual resistance is taking shape in Brazil and that it is being propelled by a collection of ideas about space, memory, autonomy,  42  opportunism and accommodation. The analysis of spatial configuration in conjunction to that of personal experience, memories, and impressions, can lead to the identification of negative biases and tendencies that pose a threat to socio-cultural continuity, diversity, autonomy, food security and sovereignty. As a dominant and hegemonic ideology in the twentieth first century, neoliberalism is an advanced and modern form of profit driven colonialism, boosted by mass communication and information technologies to direct massive flows of goods across international political boundaries and to colonize practices, subjugating society to the extent of activities geared towards serving the industrial-financial economic complex with time for money and power. Neoliberalism, as an ideology of practice with lawmaking power, is also designed to poke through the legal obstacles faced by the ideals of profitability and accumulation. These legal obstacles evolve in relation with the international power struggle to control the cash flow of the global economy. This world of intensified production is dominated symbolically by logistical abstraction and statistics, and the mastering of a language and practice that is abstract, materialistic and statistical is required to achieve success in such a world. This formula is obviously incompatible and antithetical to what Popyguá described as part of the Guarani past relationship with the living world. For Bourdieu, the reality of the 'globalization' that lingers "on the lips of all integrated intellectuals" is "precisely" that demagogical, bland and commercially bound reality "of cultural mass production" that comes with television, such as "telenovelas", a "Latin American specialty", and "popular cinema and magazines" and even the "social thinking" that revolves on "themes and words that circle the planet, like 'the end of history', 'postmodernism', or...'globalization' (1998:77). Bourdieu argues that it is the duty of "[a]rtists, writers, and researchers" to "combat the most malign threats" to "culture and democracy" (1998:77) that come with the mass influx of biased information. Private property, however, does not have to be always put to industrial and purely commercial uses, but its extreme epistemological flexibility makes the subversion of commercially oriented private property and spatial use possible. One counter-hegemonic strategy is transferring land made private through colonial processes back into the 'private' possession of identified and culturally unique indigenous peoples, who make the land more communal, and inclusive. The land is considered theirs not through their use and physical involvement with it, but through the recognition of their legal 'private' possession of the land. What is understood today as ‘development’ is simply a form of ‘objectified ideology’. In other words, if a car factory is designed with the ‘costeffectiveness’ of the production line in mind (the maximization of product output in relation with all  43  production expenses), it is clear that a ‘particular’ ideology, in this case the ideology commonly labelled as ‘capitalist accumulation and profit’, has been transformed into the conception, design and construction of the factory facilities and production line. The ideologies of capitalism supported by the legal system, including the ideal of mass industrialization, standardization of learning curricula, privatization of public space, and many other values, are phenomenological elements of neoliberal landscapes we must be critical of and engaged with as scholars. Social scientists must pay closer attention to the critical counter-hegemonic ideas of indigenous subjects because of the uniqueness of their positions vis à vis the practices and ideologies of exploitative capitalism. As academics working within the system, our tendency to incorporate western, colonial, and hegemonic values and mores is represented by our relative success navigating through the public realm of the university as an institution. There are at least two distinct forces affecting engagement in colonial education: conformity and radicalism. The power of music, however, is a malleable force that can be put for varied uses – more importantly, it can prevent people from participating as servers of the commercial world and help them develop their own political and artistic purposes. Music that is devoid of commercial values and unconcerned with market based trends and fashions is the music that one produces and performs because of a human necessity for personal expression and social engagement. Popyguá used audio recording technology to transform the Guarani children's singing in a powerful political and traditional instrument. Melodies are deeply associated with memories of the past and, once shared, like stories, they foster a strong sense of belonging. When people sing together, in unison or in harmony, they feel more comfortable and close. Songs are important ontological generators of the sense of personal belonging to a place and a people with a distinct tradition but, not unlike privatized public potential, it can be used for exclusion and alienation as well as for strengthening a sense of community, social and political participation and mobilization. Capitalism and commercial music, by valuing the foreign, the mainstream (i.e., colonial hegemonic), 'exotic' and high-selling music, alienates people from participating with locally oriented musical production and performance, transforming them all into mere consumers. Dependence on mainstream commercial music fosters a manufactured sense of belonging that demands the docility of the subject to the market trends and values of the mainstream media. The study of art as an applied instrument for education, expression, well-being, and fostering a sense of belonging to a place and people is still not appreciated as fully as it could by the academic mainstream. Musicianship is usually regarded as a 'hobby' or a diversion from actual 'work', and not  44  as an asset to learning. As we have seen with Popyguá, however, music can be a very powerful political instrument with counter-hegemonic purposes, and as a driver for institutional transformation. Mainstream music today, however, is a powerful tool for the subjection of people to commercial values and trends, nationalism, provincialism, orthodoxy, conservatism, and the other many features of the manufactured sense of belonging crafted by the market and the mainstream media for predictable consumers in the infinite quest for profit. The ability to harmonize melodies and words into a song that is politically charged and locally relevant is a very important counterhegemonic tool, often overlooked. For the Guarani, songs have the power to contain, preserve, and transmit their culture to future generations, and to engage with the western world. Songs encapsulate memories, and are able to transmit and evoke them. Songs can disseminate a language through space and time, explain and portray the feeling of a culture more effectively than the written word. In this view, music is an extension, an advancement of language, able to use notes and harmonies to represent feelings otherwise buried in the extreme epistemological differences between members of different cultures. Popyguá employed juruá (white) technology in order to strengthen his local culture. The ideology of profit associated with capitalism and neoliberalism has had a lasting impact in the formation of historical processes of colonial domination and exploitation in Brazil since the 16th century. The power to provide labour and move the economy is increasingly under the control of profit driven multinational corporations. By designing space for production, they restrict and condition the experiences of labourers, and the ontological development of their bodily hexis (i.e., the way the the body moves)14. The central idea behind the notion of hexis and the restrictions of the workplace configuration on personal ontologies is quite simple: the places that surround you affect the way your being develops. This is also called “tacit knowledge”, an ideology not analytically mastered by the agent or able to be articulated in propositional form but which nevertheless regulates practices as an “ability or skill, acquired through habituation” (Gerrans 2005:54). This particular intense production environment and its highly regulated, determined and scheduled uses affect directly the personal subjective development of everyone who spends time working at the factory production line and who enters a dialectical relationship with the environment with the reproduction of memory. At the managerial level, however, people are seen through comparative statistical analysis and regarded 'professionally' and elements in a system of production, rather than as collaborators or community participants.  14 See Bourdieu (1990) for a theoretical account of the relationships between habitus, praxis, and hexis.  45  The reality of market demands, by the power of spatial and economic conditions, have propelled Popyguá to propose the idea of envolvimento, a counter-hegemonic adaptation, a strategy to strike a bilateral partnership with the entrepreneurial world that includes, ironically, the privatization of land for recognized indigenous peoples. Public potential is privatized in ways that can be beneficial or detrimental for a particular local community and the environment. This takes us back to a core idea in this study – the privatization of public potential (i.e., PPP). The PPP is a colonial process, a neoliberal strategy to dominate spaces, and also a counter-hegemonic adaptation. This makes perfect sense if we agree with Unger that self-conscious mastery of the dominant institutional world is essential for affecting a positive transformation (1987:363-4 In Harvey 2000:187). Therefore, in order to subvert private property and the domination of space for capitalist production, envolvimento proposes the privatization of lands for the Guarani, who will use it differently, according to their own cultural values. This right to autonomy and cultural difference is something that is guaranteed in the constitution but that reflects the fear of the dominant prejudice against alternatives to status quo epistemologies.  46  BIBLIOGRAPHY Appadurai, Arjun 1996  Modernity at Large: Cultural Dimensions of Globalization. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.  Araújo, Ana Valéria 1995  A Defesa dos Direitos Indígenas no Judiciário: Ações Propostas pelo Núcleo de Direitos Indígenas. [The Defense of Indigenous Rights in the Judiciary: Actions Proposed by the Nucleus of Indigenous Rights] São Paulo: Instituto Socioambiental.  Barbosa, Marco Antonio 2001  Direito Antropológico e Terras Indígenas no Brasil. [Anthropological Law and Indigenous Lands in Brazil] São Paulo: Plêiade.  Barcelos, Caco 2001  Rota 66:a história da polícia que mata [Rota 66: The History of the Police that Kills]. São Paulo: Globo.  Bourdieu, Pierre 1984  Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. Richard Nice, trans. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.  1990  The Logic of Practice. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press.  1998  Acts of Resistance: Against the Tyranny of the Market. Richard Nice, trans. New York: The New Press.  2003[2001] Firing Back: Against the Tyranny of the Market 2. Loïc Wacquant, trans. New York: The New Press. 2005  The Social Structures of the Economy. Cambridge: Polity Press.  Bovie, Smith Palmer 1958  Classical Allusions. In The Classical World, Vol. 52, No. 1 (Oct., 1958), pp. 1-6.  Clifford, James 1980a Fieldwork, Reciprocity and the Making of Ethnographic Texts. In Man 15: 518-532. 1980b Ethnographic Surrealism. Comparative Studies in Society and History 23:539-64. 1983  On Ethnographic Authority. In Representations 1:118-45.  1988  The Predicament of Culture: Twentieth-Century Ethnography, Literature, and Art. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.  47  1997  Routes: Travel and Translation in the Twentieth Century. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.  Cruikshank, Julie 2005  Do Glaciers Listen? Local Knowledge, Colonial Encounters, and Social Imagination. Vancouver: UBC Press.  Cunha, Manuela Carneiro 1987  Os Direitos do Índio Ensaios e Documentos [The Rights of the Índio Essays and Documents]. São Paulo: Editora Brasiliense.  1992  Legislação Indigenista no Século XIX: Uma Compilação (1808-1889). [Indigenist Legislation in the 19th Century: A Compilation (1808-1889)]. São Paulo: Comissão Pró-Índio.  Demo, Pedro 2005  Dureza: Pobreza Política das Mulheres Pobres [Hardship: Political Poverty of Poor Women]. Campinas, SP: Autores Associados.  Endo, Paulo César, 2005  A Violência no Coração da Cidade: Um Estudo Psicanalítico [Violence in the Heart of the City: A Psychoanalytical Study]. São Paulo, SP: Escuta/FAPESP.  Fix, Mariana 2001 Parceiros da Exclusão: duas histórias da construção de uma "nova cidade" em São Paulo [Partners of Exclusion: two histories of the construction of a "new city" in São Paulo]. São Paulo, Boitempo Editorial. Freire, Paulo 1970  Pedagogy of the oppressed. New York: Continuum Books.  Gerrans, Philip 2005 Tacit knowledge, rule following and Pierre Bourdieu's philosophy of social science. In Anthropological Theory. London: SAGE Publications. Goldman, Michael 2001  Constructing an Environmental State: Eco-Governmentality and Other Transnational Practices of a 'Green' World Bank. In Social Problems, Vol.48, No.4, Special Issue on Globalization and Social Problems. (Nov., 2001), pp.499-523.  Gramsci, Antonio 1971  Selections from the Prison Notebooks. Quintin Hoare, and Geoffrey Nowell Smith, eds. and trans. New York: International Publishers.  Haraway, Donna 2004  The Promises of Monsters: A Regenerative Politics for Innappropriate/d  48  Others. In The Haraway Reader. New York: Routledge. Harvey, David 2000 Spaces of Hope. Berkeley: University of California Press. Heidegger, Martin 1971  Building, Dwelling, Thinking. In Poetry, Language, Thought. New York: Harper and Row.  Herman, Edward S., and Noam Chomsky 2002  Manufacturing Consent. New York: Pantheon Books.  Ingold, Tim 2000  The Perception of the Environment: Essays in Livelihood, Dwelling, and Skill. New York: Routledge.  ISA: Instituto Socioambiental 2004  Terras Indígenas & Unidades de Conservação da Natureza: O Desafio das Sobreposições [Indigenous Lands & Nature Conservation Units: The Challenge of Superpositions]. Fany Ricardo, editor. São Paulo: Instituto Socioambiental.  2005  Mineração em Terras Indigenas na Amazônia brasileira [Mining in Indigenous Lands in the Brazilian Amazon]. São Paulo: Instituto Socioambiental.  2006  Povos Indígenas do Brasil 2001-2005 [Indigenous Peoples of Brazil]. Beto and Fany Ricardo, eds. São Paulo: Instituto Socioambiental.  Kowarick, Lúcio 1993  São Paulo Passado e Presente: as Lutas Sociais e a Cidade. [São Paulo Past and Present: Social Struggles and the City]. São Paulo: Paz e Terra.  Ladeira, Maria Inês 2003  Guarani Mbya. In Enciclopédia dos Povos Indígenas. [].  Lefébvre, Henri 1991[1974] The Production of Space. Donald Nicholson-Smith, trans. Oxford: Blackwell. Merleau-Ponty, Maurice 2002[1945] Phenomenology of Perception. Translation from French, Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1958. New York: Routledge Classics. Miller, Bruce G. 2003  Invisible Indigenes. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press.  Morris, Christine Ballengee, Karai' Mirin, and Christina Rizzi 2000  Decolonization, Art Education, and One Guarani Nation of Brazil. In Studies in Art  49  Education, 41 (2), pp.100-113. Nybakken, Oscar E. 1939  Humanitas Romana. In Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association, Vol. 70, (1939), pp. 396-413.  Ricardo, Carlos Alberto 2000  Povos Indígenas do Brasil,1996-2000. [The Indigenous Peoples of Brazil, 1996-2000]. São Paulo: Instituto Socioambental.  Ribeiro, Darcy 1995  O Povo Brasileiro. [The Brazilian People] São Paulo: Companhia das Letras.  Rocha, Ana Flávia 2003  A Defesa dos Direitos Sociambientais no Judiciário. [The Defense of Socioambiental Rights in the Judiciary]. São Paulo: Instituto Socioambiental.  Scheper-Hughes, Nancy 1992  Death Without Weeping: The Violence of Everyday Life in Brazil. Berkeley: University of California Press.  Scotton, Carol Myers 1982  The Possibility of Code-Switching: Motivation for Maintaining Multilingualism. In Anthropological Linguistics, Vol. 24, No. 4 (Winter, 1982), pp. 432-444.  Stoler, Ann Laura 2002  Carnal Knowledge and Imperial Power: Race and the Intimate in Colonial Rule. Berkeley: University of California Press.  Thoreau, Henry David 1993[1854] Walden and Other Writings. New York: Barnes and Noble Books. Turner, Christina Bolke, and Brian Turner 1994  The Role of Mestizaje of Surnames in Paraguay in the Creation of a Distinct New World Ethnicity. In Ethnohistory 41:1 (Winter 1994), pp.139-165.  Unger, Roberto Mangabeira 1987 Social Theory: Its Situation and Its Task. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Valentine, Lisa Philips 1994  Code Switching and Language Leveling: Use of Multiple Codes in a Severn Ojibwe Community. In International Journal of American Linguistics, Vol. 60, No. 4 (Oct., 1994), pp. 315-341.  50  


Citation Scheme:


Citations by CSL (citeproc-js)

Usage Statistics



Customize your widget with the following options, then copy and paste the code below into the HTML of your page to embed this item in your website.
                            <div id="ubcOpenCollectionsWidgetDisplay">
                            <script id="ubcOpenCollectionsWidget"
                            async >
IIIF logo Our image viewer uses the IIIF 2.0 standard. To load this item in other compatible viewers, use this url:


Related Items