The Brazilian Pendulum

Recent years in Brazilian politics have been marked by extreme turbulence and polarization. After nearly two decades in which the national political scene was organized around President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and the Workers’ Party (PT), the future of the country hangs in the balance between the rising far-right bolsonarismo movement and the greatly weakened pro-democracy coalition led by Lula.

To understand the fragile state of Brazilian democracy, it is necessary to see the dramatic swings of contemporary politics in the longer view of the Brazilian political economy. To do so, PW editors Hugo Fanton and Daniel Pavan spoke to André Singer, renowned author of pathbreaking books on Lula and the Worker’s Party, professor of political science at the University of São Paulo, and the former Press Secretary for President Lula in his first term.

Singer’s analysis of the Worker’s Party provides the most comprehensive and detailed account of the development of the party’s political program in its first decade in power—characterized by broad and deep support among the majority at the bottom of Brazil’s deeply unequal economy, and a gradual reform project constrained by the extreme concentration of wealth and power at the top. In his new book, Impasse, Singer revisits classic thinkers from Brazilian political theory to examine the behavior of Brazilian elites—whose politics have swung between the poles of progressive democracy and revanchist authoritarianism.

Ahead of the runoff election between Lula and Bolsonaro—between lulismo and bolsonarismo—the interview looks at the political landscape of the largest country in Latin America, the major voting coalitions that will determine the election, the emergence of a Brazilian “Bible Belt,” the impact of the cost of living on electoral behavior, and the competing political tendencies that define the 2026 elections and the future of the country.

An interview with André Singer

Hugo Fanton: Your new book takes up former President and sociologist Fernando Henrique Cardoso’s metaphor for understanding the Brazilian ruling class: a pendulum that oscillates between stagnation and social change. As we near the runoff between President Luiz Lula Inacio da Silva and Flavío Bolsonaro, how should we understand the relationship between Brazil’s ruling class and politics? Where are we in the pendulum?

André Singer: Why do Brazilian elites sometimes support democracy, and sometimes authoritarianism? Fernando Henrique Cardoso’s image of the Brazilian bourgeoisie moving on a “pendulum” between these two poles helps us understand that this behavior has a material basis: the interests of the Brazilian ruling class are contradictory, and so its political action is also contradictory. 

If we look at the impeachment process that ousted President Dilma Rousseff and the Workers’ Party (PT) from power in 2016 this pattern becomes evident. Already in late 2014, elements of the bourgeoisie that had played an important role in ending the military dictatorship and returning to democracy began to shift course. That year, the Brazilian Social Democracy Party (PSDB) formally challenged the results of the election that brought Rousseff to the presidency. This shift ultimately culminated in the rise of Bolsonaro and bolsonarismo in 2018. 

In the 2018 election, the more cosmopolitan faction of the ruling class, including finance and banking, remained relatively neutral, while the non-cosmopolitan sector, including the extractive industries and agribusiness, immediately supported Bolsonaro. The neutrality of the former paved the way for Bolsonaro’s victory. But just a few years later, during the Covid-19 pandemic, the cosmopolitan faction broke with the Bolsonaro government and allied itself with the defense of democracy and Lula’s winning 2022 campaign for the presidency. 

Their shift back in favor of democracy was accelerated by the revelations of an attempted military coup, coordinated from the heights of the Bolsonaro administration and involving assassination plans against Lula, Vice President-elect Geraldo Alckmin, and Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes. The rejection of the coup plotters by the cosmopolitan elites—marked by a protest organized at the most important law school in Brazil, which was attended by prominent figures from the Brazilian elite, and bolstered by Washington having signaled its opposition to electoral meddling—was decisive in thwarting an attempted military coup. (It is worth emphasizing that, of all the countries experiencing growing far-right movements in recent years, Brazil is the only one where a classic military coup attempt actually took place.)

So there was indeed a shift. First, in favor of the parliamentary coup in 2016; and then, six years later, in defense of democracy against an autocratic coup. This is why the “pendulum” hypothesis, fifty years on, remains a very useful framework for understanding these dramatic and sometimes rapid shifts of elites from democracy to authoritarianism. When democracy threatens its objective interests, the bourgeoisie resorts to authoritarianism, but authoritarianism exacts a high price on freedom and order that can in turn become intolerable. In the 2026 elections, it is still unclear what stance this more modern sector of the bourgeoisies will take, and which way the pendulum will swing.

Daniel Pavan: How does democracy threaten the interests of these elites? Why do their interests produce contradictory reactions?

AS: Historically, the more modern sectors of the economy have a natural interest in development and modernization—state capacity, infrastructure, and so on, which support the growth of their industries. To that end, capitalists in these sectors ally themselves with the state to promote such reforms. But it so happens that some such reforms—such as land reform, the hallmark of modern capitalist economic development—can also strengthen the position of the working classes. Brazilian capitalism, however, is subordinated both to the dynamics of the world market, and, as a primary-sector exporter, to the domestic dynamics of labor exploitation, which presuppose social exclusion and the maintenance of a large reserve army of labor. In Brazil in 1964, prior to the military coup, the state was on a path to advance reforms that would have exceeded the limits of what the bourgeoisie considers acceptable for its objective interests—in that case, land and labor reform. 

This is the contradiction: the bourgeoisie pushes the state in a certain direction and then, when a “red line” is crossed, withdraws its support, causing the downfall of the political leadership that is driving the reforms. This dynamic unfolded during Dilma’s administration, and ultimately led to the parliamentary coup that ousted her. 

DP: Turning to the present, you analyze the ruling class’s relationship to politics through the existence of two cross-class coalitions: the pro-Bolsonaro “confederacy” and the pro-Lula “concertación.” What is the composition of these two coalitions? 

AS: I developed the idea of the “confederacy” while analyzing the 2022 elections, and trying to understand which coalition of forces still supported Bolsonaro at the end of his disastrous term, allowing him to come so close to victory. It is a heterogenous arrangement, bringing together widely divergent class factions and corporate sectors. Of course, agribusiness stands out. 

The 2022 electoral map shows a continuous corridor of Bolsonaro support stretching from northern Rio Grande do Sul, through Santa Catarina, Paraná, and the interior of São Paulo and Minas Gerais, widening in the Midwest and reaching the southern part of the North region. This corridor is heavily populated by the extractive industries and small-scale miners, who have benefited from relaxed environmental regulation and weakened protections for indigenous peoples. Alongside this bloc are the service sector and small- and medium-sized business owners—part of a transformative new wave of entrepreneurship in the country. 

On the corporate and social front, the “confederacy” rests on two fundamental pillars: evangelicals and security forces. Where Lula and the PT dominate in the poor northeastern states of the country, evangelicals function as the “Northeast of bolsonarismo”: a population representing about 30 percent of the electorate, about 70 percent of whom support the far right. This constitutes something like the Brazilian Bible Belt—a very solid base for bolsonarismo. Security forces, meanwhile, include not only the military but also civilian police, parts of the federal police, and a vast private security sector, all of whom have aligned themselves with Bolsonaro’s typical far-right public safety platform.

I’ve called this far-right bloc the “confederacy” in reference to the US American South during the Civil War, both as a political provocation and because it implies a very stark geographical and cultural divide—of the kind that was, until recently, unprecedented in Brazil. 

On the other hand, the “concertación” represents the broad front organized to halt the rise of autocracy. This group consists of the PT, supporters of lulismo, and sectors of the former PSDB, along with the cosmopolitan faction of the bourgeoisie. The PT remains the most organized and far-reaching party in the country, with more support from the electorate than any other party, at 30 percent. Support for lulismo, in turn, extends beyond the ranks of the PT and advocates a program to overcome poverty without direct confrontation with capital—it is the heir to the “popular camp” (campo popular), a segment of the electorate created by the advent of mass democracy under Getúlio Vargas in 1945.

Brazil is a highly unequal country, in which about 85 percent of the electorate is in households that earn just five times the minimum wage or less. Lulismo, therefore, has enormous electoral potential, demonstrated by its four consecutive victories between 2002 and 2014. However, to secure his return to the presidency in 2022, and to halt the growth of authoritarianism, Lula formed a coalition with the remnants of the former PSDB. 

The latter strand is symbolized by Vice President Geraldo Alckmin and enjoys the support of the more modern financial and industrial sectors—precisely those that had rivaled the PT until 2014. The breadth and composition of this coalition is why I refer to it using the name of the Chilean concertación, which united socialists and Christian Democrats to defeat the right and turn the page on the Pinochet dictatorship. 

HF: The essayist Roberto Schwarz has argued that Bolsonaro’s first victory was due to having stitched together an openly pro-business agenda with an ideologically “regressive segment” of Brazilian society. In your book, you show that, in 2022, 47 percent of the electorate identified with the right on the ideological spectrum—curiously, the same percentage obtained by Flávio Bolsonaro in the first round earlier this month. How do you understand the force of ideology alongside material circumstances like the cost of living, and in particular rising food prices?

AS: Ideology as a factor in politics works over the long-term. It becomes entrenched in the formation of political identity and then remains a lasting foundation—a resource that can be drawn on differently in different political moments. For this reason, I don’t believe it is a sufficient explanation for variations within a given political context. The question is: how are ideological commitments activated by political actors from one context to another?

In Brazil, studies indicate that the electorate has historically leaned conservative or right-wing. But during the period of polarization between the PT and the PSDB, direct ideological language along the axis of left-versus-right was deemphasized. The PSDB was interested in capturing right-wing votes without identifying itself as such, and the movement around Lula was interested in attracting conservative segments of the working class.

Starting in 2014, particularly during Dilma’s impeachment process, the far right broke through this buffer, and started openly reactivating ideological political discourse. The far right represents only 15 percent of the electorate, but they successfully revived this strong ideological polarization and drew the right side of the spectrum along with it. Jair Bolsonaro, previously irrelevant in Brazilian politics, benefitted tremendously from this situation, as he was prepared to speak the language of ideology. Bolsonarismo tapped into the diffuse conservative sentiment present among a large portion of the electorate and gave it a political voice.

What does this mean for our situation now, in 2026? We can say with considerable confidence that Bolsonarism will persist, despite the former President’s isolation. His core supporters remain a minority within the electorate, but their political potential extends far beyond his base. This became particularly clear when São Paulo Governor Tarcísio de Freitas, a natural conservative candidate for the presidency, was simply sidelined by the nomination of Jair Bolsonaro’s son, Flávio, who had no support other than that of his own father. This is a formidable display of strength, and it portends an electoral realignment of the country similar to that of 2006, when the working classes—and in particular the lowest-income households in Brazil—shifted towards Lula, while the rest moved to the PSDB. The outlines are not yet defined, but such a polarized realignment may be underway.

What of the material factor? Between the polarized blocs with distinct ideological commitments, the third segment of the electorate swings back and forth, guided primarily by the concrete material benefits it may have received during the previous term, or expects to receive during the next. These are votes governed by the concrete realities of voters’ daily lives: inflation, the cost of living, and food prices. 

To compete for this pragmatic electorate, the Lula administration developed a series of policies directly aimed at the population’s material conditions: income tax exemptions, the regulation and subsequent ban on online gambling, which has driven countless families into debt, the initiative to reduce the workweek from forty-four to forty hours and end the “6-on-1” norm for shift schedules in favor of two days off per week, the provision of weight-loss pens through the public healthcare system, the increase in Bolsa Família benefits, and the Desenrola 3 program to aid families struggling with consumer debt repayments. Through these policies, the government seeks to demonstrate concretely what it has done for these segments of the population. On the other hand, the opposition candidate freely promises comprehensive solutions to the cost-of-living crisis that he has no intention of enacting—lower interest rates, lower living costs, and not having to pay any debt for a year, and so on.

HF: A much-discussed component of the ideological map of Brazilian politics today is the relationship between Pentecostalism and the far right, a coalition which you suggest functions similarly to the “Bible Belt” of socially conservative evangelical states in the United States. Can you elaborate on this argument?

AS: It is hard to overstate the significance of the transformation of religious identification over recent decades on Brazilian life. Catholicism was once a defining feature of the country, deeply embedded throughout society and an important aspect of the national identity. The vast majority of the population was Catholic. That homogeneity has been disrupted by the rapid growth of the evangelical church.

On a political level, however, the evangelical vote was initially not unified, and various evangelical leaders were a part of Lula and Dilma’s governing coalitions. It remained fractured, until a qualitative leap was taken by Jair Bolsonaro, who organized a large part of this vote around his ideological project, in part by promoting institutional ties between the state and the church, through the appointment of ministers, nominations to the Supreme Federal Court, and the reception of bishops at the Planalto Palace. 

The formation of this “Bible Belt” creates a cohesive electoral bloc. Even in the face of fluctuations surrounding the candidates—such as in the debate over Flávio Bolsonaro’s nomination—polls indicate that about 70 percent of this segment remains inclined to vote for Bolsonaro. The evangelical vote was central to the consolidation of Bolsonarism as a movement and concept, which finds one of its most enduring foundations in the Bible Belt. Bolsonarismo‘s deeply rooted strength in this religious community means that it will continue to be a feature of Brazilian politics. 

DP: You argue there are three competing political regimes in Brazil in 2026: the democratic; the parliamentary or semi-presidential (which has become anti-democratic, as it represents the Centrao’s control); and the autocratic with fascist characteristics, represented above all by the Bolsonaro family. How do you characterize these three competing political regimes?

AS: Presidential elections in Brazil are the moment when the working classes express what they expect from the state: it is the single moment in which the working class intervenes in Brazilian politics on an institutional level. Legislative elections, meanwhile, are heavily influenced by local oligarchic political machines. This is why we have the elected government in the Chamber of Deputies that we do, which in practice in Brazil consistently undermines the working class’ political participation. “Semi-presidentialism” is a milder form of parliamentary government, and we could see the ruling class forces that control the Chamber of Deputies moving towards it already, in the process of impeaching President Dilma. The notion of a semi-presidential system in which the management of economic policy is transferred to the Congress is of great interest to these forces, and I believe we will see such proposals resurface. 

Given this distribution of power, presidential elections can be seen, to a certain extent, as a reflection of the state of the class struggle. When that struggle reaches a breaking point—as it did with the crossing of the “red line” discussed earlier, in which a reform program of a government goes beyond what the middle classes and elites will endure—new competition between political regimes emerges, seeking a new resolution. 

Thus we are now facing competition between these three systems: democracy; a semi-presidential system that undermines the presidential elections; and open authoritarianism, which may take the form of a military dictatorship. The latter, bolsonarismo, has fully solidified itself as an organized force in Brazil, and is what I call authoritarianism with a fascist bias. Is it fascist? This is a political party which is not militarized—despite the aforementioned presence of law enforcement officers in its ranks, it is not organized around the formation of militias, a characteristic element of classical European fascism. But it is an extreme far-right formation, more closely tied to international Trumpism than ever before, and it has established itself to the point where it competes with the PT, and even surpasses it.