1954–1960: Fragile Democracy, Deep Divides – Brazil’s path to the 1964 military coup began a decade earlier. In August 1954, President Getúlio Vargas, accused by conservative forces of corruption and communist sympathies, took his own life rather than resign. His death deepened political polarisation, as populist and conservative forces clashed over the country’s direction. Successive governments wrestled with balancing industrial growth, social reform, and elite resistance, while the military quietly consolidated influence behind the scenes.
1961: The Goulart Presidency and Early Opposition – When President Jânio Quadros abruptly resigned in 1961, Vice President João Goulart (Jango) — a left-leaning ally of workers and unions — was next in line. The military tried to block his succession, fearing his ties to socialism. A compromise was reached: Goulart could assume office under a temporary parliamentary system that reduced his powers, which were restored in a 1963 plebiscite.
1961–1963: Reform vs. Reaction – Goulart proposed sweeping Basic Reforms (Reformas de Base): land redistribution, expanded education, progressive tax changes, and more rights for workers. These reforms alarmed Brazil’s agrarian oligarchs, industrial elites, and conservative politicians, who saw them as a direct threat to their wealth and influence. Inflation soared above 70%, the economy slowed, and strikes multiplied, fuelling fears of instability.
Meanwhile, cultural life was deeply engaged in the political moment. Student groups like the União Nacional dos Estudantes (UNE) staged plays and rallies supporting reform. Theatre companies such as Teatro de Arena and Teatro Oficina used allegory to critique inequality, and Cinema Novo filmmakers like Glauber Rocha produced works blending social realism with political commentary. Musicians including Chico Buarque, Caetano Veloso, and Gilberto Gil — then early in their careers — began weaving subtle critiques of injustice into their songs.
1962–1964: Cold War Pressures and the Propaganda Offensive – The Cuban Revolution (1959) had made Washington hypersensitive to any leftward shift in Latin America. Through the CIA and State Department, the United States channelled covert funds to Brazilian opposition politicians, student groups, and media outlets. Business elites and the Catholic Church amplified this message at home, portraying Goulart as a dangerous radical bent on “Cubanising” Brazil.
By early 1964, the cultural sphere was part of this propaganda war. Artists, intellectuals, and student leaders who supported reform were depicted in conservative newspapers and radio programs as communist agitators.
March 1964: Confrontation – On March 13, 1964, Goulart addressed a massive rally in Rio de Janeiro, announcing land reform decrees and the nationalisation of oil refineries. To his supporters, it was a bold step toward social justice. To his enemies, it was confirmation of their fears.
Six days later, on March 19, São Paulo hosted the Marcha da Família com Deus pela Liberdade (“March of the Family with God for Liberty”), drawing hundreds of thousands. Organised by conservative women’s groups, funded by business associations, blessed by the Catholic Church, and amplified by media outlets, it became a powerful public display against Goulart.
March 31–April 1, 1964: The Coup – On the night of March 31, General Olímpio Mourão Filho led troops from Minas Gerais toward Rio de Janeiro. Other military units quickly joined. The United States initiated Operation Brother Sam, dispatching a naval task force with fuel, arms, and logistical support in case the coup met resistance.
With little opposition, Goulart fled to Porto Alegre and then into exile in Uruguay. On April 2, Congress declared the presidency vacant. Within days, General Castelo Branco assumed power, marking the start of 21 years of military rule.
April–December 1964 Cultural Life Under the New Regime – The military quickly moved against perceived sources of dissent:
- The UNE headquarters in Rio was raided and burned.
- Leftist student leaders were arrested or went underground.
- Artists were placed under surveillance, with intelligence files opened on musicians, playwrights, filmmakers, and authors.
- Public performances now required approval from government censors.
While the harshest repression came later (especially after Institutional Act No. 5 in 1968), this early period already reshaped cultural expression. Some artists went silent or into exile, others tempered their work to avoid trouble, and many turned to metaphor, coded language, and allegory to evade censorship.
Musicians used duplo sentido (double meanings) to slip political critique into popular songs. Theatre leaned toward historical parallels and absurdism. Underground student theatre troupes staged performances in private spaces, keeping resistance alive.
The 1964 coup silenced some voices and radicalised others. It fractured Brazil’s artistic community but also laid the groundwork for a decade of creative resistance — from the Tropicália movement to protest songs and politically charged theatre — that would keep challenging the dictatorship, even under the most repressive conditions.
I don’t recall his name, but it was New Years Eve 1998, the comedian walked on stage and was warmly welcomed. His opening gag, “Scotland is celebrating tonight….Lena Zavaroni has had a shit.” His comic timing was impeccable. The room filled with equal bouts of laughter, gasps and groans. It’s a gag that has stuck with me. Not because of any comic value, but its cruelty, given it was common knowledge that Zavaroni, a child star of the 1970s, had been suffering from anorexia since her teenage years and within a year of this gag the 35-year old Zavaroni was dead. The only thing I took heart from that night was the thinning audience seeking refuge in an adjourning bar where it was concluded the comic was boring, a one-shot pony, no depth and no charisma to manage an audience beyond aiming to shock. Years later 3 things often cross my mind from that evening.
So what is to be done as we sit in self-imposed ignorant bliss, knowing the causes, but claiming to be ‘powerless’ to do anything? Being powerless can, of course, be a convenient excuse and one that in its worst condition seeks self-reflected pity on oneself. The cold reality is that some people vote to be powerless. The first step in demanding change is the realisation that you are not powerless and by actually doing something, no matter how little, you become a small, but integral part of a social movement and movements change things on a big scale. The words ‘political struggle’ in one of the wealthiest economies, had until recently, become an almost embarrassing term to use given the abundance of riches at our disposal. It is clearly back on the agenda for a younger generation who are quite rightly increasingly restless and angry at the inheritance being offered to them by a tired and self-imposed ‘powerless’ older generation. While government (nationally and locally) is blindfolded in a downward spiral of spin, apportion blaming and rebranding their diminishing resources as new. Informal networks of self-motivated people armed with nothing more than compassion and love are seeking solutions. On one hand, a growing number of people are not prepared to ‘walk on by’ and ignore the injustice staring them in the face and on the other hand young people are increasingly motivated to get involved in direct-action and structured politics. It’s too early to say if this is a fad and it may suffer the relentlessly grind wheels that have often warm many a good person down, but positive seeds have been sown.
29th April 2017 I was asked to facilitate a community session for the Mayor of Bristol (Marvin Rees) and Kerry McCarthy MP. The localised issues raised at community engagement sessions can often be listed beforehand housing, transport, education, fly-tipping, but nesting amongst these issues was the ongoing ramifications of Brexit. The audience while not large certainly reflected the diverse nature of opinion concerning the Brexit debate. What became clear during the session was that when politicians listen and engage with the fears and concerns of ordinary people a more considered debate takes place, which in turn helps forge a more objective understanding of the complex issues that are often presented in simplistic headlines. My lesson from facilitating this session is that we need to develop ways of breaking down the often perceived barriers between elected representatives and the general public.
I took some time out to read the Gender 
Irregular Frequencies 