Subversive movements like the Landless Rural Workers Movement (MST) apply pressure by promoting illegal farm invasions and land squatting. Now that the PT is in power, President Lula da Silva is introducing land reform initiatives that target two pillars of Brazilian economy - agriculture and cattle ranching. His measures spell trouble for the country's economic and social stability and may well shake the very foundations of the rule of law.
a) Lula realizes his land reform dreams: 497,000 acres expropriated - Although he is presented as a moderate, President Lula da Silva has always wanted (or "dreamed of," as he recently affirmed at the World Social Forum in Porto Alegre) a Land Reform program in the leftist mold. As a first step toward realizing his dream, Lula appointed Miguel Rossetto as Minister of Land Reform. Mr. Rossetto is a member of the PT's most radical wing and a supporter of illegal land invasions.
President Lula just signed a decree expropriating nearly half a million acres of land for land reform. In announcing that he will seek international aid for the project, Land Reform Minister Miguel Rossetto said the President's move sent a message to "the sectors historically closer to PT, including the MST, that Lula will carry out his campaign promise to implement the nation's largest land reform."***
WAIT AND SEE Meanwhile Caracas is in wait-and-see mode. Its inhabitants still talk about latent class hatred between the poor western and posh eastern halves of a city that may explode in unrest. Rich districts store arms and chains to mount barricades. Chavez-loyal soldiers have confiscated the heavy weapons of the opposition-run Caracas metropolitan police. Soldiers stand guard outside police stations. Downtown Caracas is a Chavez stronghold of street peddlers, run-down buildings, graffiti and garbage. The presidential palace is a heavily guarded mansion surrounded by troops and road blocks. But nearby his supporters seem confident. "The people are with Chavez. They know he's fighting the rich who are responsible for all this mess," said Antonio Lopez, selling children's toys on a street corner.
A few miles away to the east the atmosphere is different. "Don't Despair" reads one banner on the windows of an expensive dried flower shop in an upmarket Caracas mall. "We feel hemmed in now," said Flor, a retired woman who said she was too worried about recriminations to give her full name. She strolled by the flower shop, her neck laden with jewelry. "But don't count us out. We'll be back."***