{"id":46589,"date":"2018-09-03T08:55:18","date_gmt":"2018-09-03T11:55:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.rioonwatch.org\/?p=46589"},"modified":"2018-09-10T14:02:39","modified_gmt":"2018-09-10T17:02:39","slug":"not-everyone-has-a-price-part-5-the-city-proceeds-with-eminent-domain-and-violence-video","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/rioonwatch.org\/?p=46589","title":{"rendered":"Not Everyone Has a Price, Part 5: The City Proceeds with Eminent Domain and Violence [VIDEO]"},"content":{"rendered":"

Clique aqui para Portugu\u00eas<\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

This is the fifth article in a\u00a0six-part series<\/a>\u00a0that comprises the book chapter entitled \u201cNot Everyone Has a Price: How the Small Favela of Vila Aut\u00f3dromo\u2019s Fight Opened a Path to Olympic Resistance\u201d recounting the story of Vila Aut\u00f3dromo\u2019s struggle. Written by Theresa Williamson, executive director of\u00a0Catalytic Communities<\/a>,* the chapter is part of the book \u2018Rio 2016: Olympic Myths, Hard Realities<\/a>\u2018<\/em>\u00a0edited by economist\u00a0Andrew Zimbalist<\/a>. To read our review of \u2018Rio 2016,\u2019 click\u00a0here<\/a>. RioOnWatch would like to thank Brookings Press for providing the permission to republish the chapter here in its entirety.<\/em><\/p>\n

In May 2014 at a second OsteRio event, just as the university planners and community residents issued a map showing<\/a> that hundreds of residents remained committed to staying, Mayor Paes told the audience<\/a> that it was \u201cdifficult to prepare an upgrading plan when there [were] so many people coming to [them] looking to leave\u201d but that they would \u201csee what remains of the community [after compensations were all provided to those leaving], and that of what remain[ed] . . . so long as they [were] not in access areas [for the Olympic Park], [they would] upgrade as promised.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

One year later, even with Rio de Janeiro\u2019s first-ever market-rate compensations to favela residents, even under so much physical and emotional stress, by May 2015 the mayor had reached that limit and was unable to convince<\/a> 170 of the remaining families to leave. Rather than upgrading what was left of the community to permit the smaller portion of remaining residents to remain, however, Paes had shifted to an entirely new approach.<\/span><\/p>\n

On March 20, 2015, fifty-eight homes had been marked for removal<\/a> via an eminent domain decree, with future decrees offering the possibility of more homes suffering a similar fate.1<\/sup><\/a>\u00a0It was by way of this decree that all of the community\u2019s earlier leaders were eventually evicted, and as a result of the eminent domain decree stipulating that the courts determine the value of the land in question, their compensations were a fraction of those provided to residents who had taken prior compensations. Thus, those most committed to the community, who fought so hard on its behalf and wanted so deeply to remain,\u00a0<\/span>were ultimately those who received the worst compensations, a form of searing revenge by the mayor. Guimar\u00e3es<\/a>, Nascimento<\/a>, and Brito<\/a> were all removed in August, in one excruciating eviction after another, as were numerous other organizers who had come to represent the cause.<\/p>\n

Perhaps the single most critical turning point in the community\u2019s struggle came during this period. Building a home, particularly in a favela, can take decades. Tearing it down takes a matter of seconds. Municipal workers targeted homes covered by the eminent domain decree in those weeks, assigning houses for attention by hungry bulldozers following compensations being deposited in the bank accounts of their owners. And so there was a gaping threat that homes that had not yet been compensated for would be torn down. To protect themselves from ending up homeless, residents formed groups to watch over demolitions.<\/span><\/p>\n

On June 3, 2015, such a scenario unfolded. Two homes that had not yet been compensated<\/a> for were targeted for demolition. Residents formed a ring around the houses as they attempted to explain that the demolition could not go forward. Public defenders and supporters were regularly in the community during those weeks and months and joined them. Yet on this fateful day the municipal guard reacted violently, using rubber bullets, pepper spray, and batons on the protesters and injuring several residents. Some required surgery. The images of the municipal guard\u2019s barbarity circulated on Brazil\u2019s TV networks, in newspapers, and around the world<\/a>.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

This day was a game changer for the resistance movement remaining in the community. One of those most injured was Maria da Penha Macena<\/a>, a small, agile woman in her fifties and one of the friendliest people one will ever meet, beaming with positivity and optimism steeped in her Catholic faith. Penha had by now assumed a leadership position in the community\u2019s struggle and was widely known by media outlets covering the resistance. <\/span><\/p>\n

Penha was nearly the only hopeful person left in Vila Aut\u00f3dromo<\/a> by the time of this incident. Morale had been at an all-time low. But the violent clash propelled remaining residents to recommit to the struggle. Over the ensuing months, and through to today, the community and its supporters have\u00a0led campaigns, including cultural occupations<\/a>, festivals, and the launch of the Evictions Museum<\/a>, expanding on Vila Aut\u00f3dromo\u2019s sense of community to include the now tens of thousands who were following and supporting them in their struggle.<\/span><\/p>\n

By the time the most symbolic community structure was demolished\u2014the residents\u2019 association\u2014on February 24, 2016<\/a>, Vila Aut\u00f3dromo was no longer felt by its remaining residents or their supporters to be simply the original blueprint of their community. The concept of Vila Aut\u00f3dromo had expanded to represent a broad, even global, social struggle<\/a> reflected in one of the community\u2019s many slogans, which was stamped on its walls: \u201cNot Everyone Has a Price.\u201d Penha coined the slogan, summarizing the movement for visitors and the press. And it was exactly that notion that captivated so many who grew to embrace the community as their own.<\/span><\/p>\n

The eminent domain decree ultimately led to the eviction of almost all of the community\u2019s remaining inhabitants. The two final houses demolished within the decree belonged to Maria da Penha and Heloisa Helena Costa Berto<\/a>. Berto was a Candombl\u00e9 priestess<\/a> whose home had served as a spiritual center and who was chronically mistreated by city workers, even receiving death threats<\/a>. Berto and Penha along with two other women, Sandra Maria de Souza<\/a> and Nathalia Silva (Penha\u2019s daughter), became Vila Aut\u00f3dromo\u2019s best-known leaders in the final stages of the community\u2019s resistance and have since received widespread recognition and awards<\/a> from city and state governments, as well as international human rights organizations.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

The final eminent domain evictions took place during the last week of February and the first week of March 2016, witnessed and documented by remaining residents along with support from dozens camped out overnight in the community on those final weeks. Vila Aut\u00f3dromo was now down to twenty families that were both outside the decree and had remained steadfast in their unwillingness to negotiate with the city throughout the entire process.<\/span><\/p>\n

The final stage of Vila Aut\u00f3dromo\u2019s pre-Olympics struggle now began. It was clear that the city would not leave the area looking like a war zone come August 5 and the Olympic Games\u2019 opening ceremony. And, of course, at least a couple of months would be needed to prepare the site. So whatever was to happen to Vila Aut\u00f3dromo\u2019s twenty remaining families would have to be decided by early June. This was just two months away.<\/span><\/p>\n

Once again taking control of the broader narrative and keeping spirits high during those few remaining demolitions, on February 27, 2015, Vila Aut\u00f3dromo residents and supporters launched the #UrbanizaJ\u00e1 (#UpgradesNow) social media campaign, calling on supporters to post videos on social media using the hashtag and declaring why they wanted Vila Aut\u00f3dromo to be fully upgraded now. On the same day, they launched an updated version of the Popular Plan, considering the reduced nature of the community.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Mayor Paes had declared publicly<\/a> over the years, on numerous occasions, that he would not remove anyone who didn\u2019t agree to relocation<\/a>. His administration had sent in municipal workers to do the dirty work of \u201cconvincing\u201d residents through a variety of means and then made use of a questionable eminent domain decree. But now no such option was left. The final twenty families had never even entertained the idea of negotiating, and nothing short of a violent eviction would remove them.<\/span><\/p>\n

The #UrbanizaJ\u00e1 campaign quickly produced dozens if not hundreds of videos on social media, including high-visibility posts from Brazilian celebrities Camila Pitanga<\/a>, Greg\u00f3rio Duvivier<\/a>, and\u00a0<\/span>Bruno Gagliasso<\/a>, as well as internationally known figures like David Harvey<\/a>.<\/span><\/p>\n

On March 8, 2016, the same emotional day that the home of Maria da Penha was demolished<\/a> and<\/em> she went on to receive a major award from the Rio State Legislative Assembly, Mayor Paes held a press conference that community members were restricted from to announce his plan for the community. The mayor\u2019s plan ignored recommendations made in the updated Popular Plan<\/a> and instead proposed not the upgrading of the community but the construction of a set of new homes on a single street, maintaining only the Catholic church from the original community\u2019s blueprint. Residents insisted on a meeting with the mayor to discuss the proposal directly, and it took place on March 15. On that day, the community and mayor reached a tentative agreement<\/a>, based mainly on the city\u2019s proposal. The final agreement would come to be the first collectively signed relocation agreement<\/a> in favela history.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

As a result of their extraordinary resistance efforts, and with supporters and the media watching, over the subsequent months the remaining residents held firm, watching and waiting, then actively participating, in relocating to their new homes. Several lived in temporary trailers on the site for a number of weeks, while others remained in their original homes as the new houses were prepared. Maria da Penha had the opportunity to speak of the community\u2019s struggle to the United Nations in Geneva<\/a>. Media outlets from around the world made daily visits, reporting on the community\u2019s struggle and relative success. Technical partners from the federal universities watched over construction quality. The entire original community was paved over, parts became parking; others became access roads (the final justification used by the city for demolitions<\/a>). But the bulk of the community\u2019s land was paved over with no apparent purpose. The hundreds of trees Vila Aut\u00f3dromo residents had planted over decades were toppled<\/a> at some point during the demolition process, leaving the area barren and synthetic, like its modern neighbor, the\u00a0<\/span>Olympic park.<\/span><\/p>\n

Vila Aut\u00f3dromo launched the Evictions Museum<\/a> on May 18, 2016, and kept up weekly cultural events and meetings in the months building up to the Games, during the Games, and afterward. The original 700-family, relatively bucolic and green favela with large-lot homes by the lagoon exists only in the memories of those who lived there or visited prior to the onset of 2014 demolitions. In its wake are twenty small, identical, white homes lining a wide street, named Vila Aut\u00f3dromo Street, surrounded by asphalt and pounded by the hot sun. One resident, Delmo Oliveira, caught in a legal battle with the city<\/a> that excluded him from the twenty units built prior to the Games, has managed to maintain his original home.<\/span><\/p>\n

In the end, the drawn out and painful eviction of Vila Aut\u00f3dromo\u2019s residents cost the city of Rio over R$327 million, as compared to the Popular Plan\u2019s budget, which would have upgraded the original community for under R$14 million<\/a>. More than R$105 million was spent on the Parque Carioca public housing complex alone<\/a>. At least another R$220 million was paid out in financial compensations<\/a>. And the city\u2019s final rebuilding of Vila Aut\u00f3dromo cost at least R$2.9 million<\/a>. Today, the city also faces a lawsuit: 110 of the families that received compensations are suing the city over the unjust natures<\/a> of those compensations in relation to those of their neighbors.<\/span><\/p>\n

While not the victory residents fought for, and certainly not the victory those evicted under eminent domain (and even many who took compensations) longed for, the fact that those who held out succeeded in staying on their original land in the face of such tremendous pressure and power is an unequivocal success. And these community members have gone on to represent Rio\u2019s favelas in international forums<\/a> like Habitat III<\/a> and the United Nations, and their archives delivered to Brazil\u2019s National Historical Museum during a ceremony on International Museum day, May 18, 2017, one year following the founding of the Evictions Museum. The story of the community\u2019s steadfast early Residents\u2019 Association President, Altair Guimar\u00e3es, evicted during the eminent domain period, was in April 2017 recognized in a documentary titled \u201cOne Man, One City, Three Evictions: The Human Cost of Rio\u2019s Growth<\/a>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Vila Aut\u00f3dromo\u2019s illustrative story serves as a glowing example and inspiration to communities in Rio and around the world. The small favela forged a path that communities facing eviction in the name of the Olympic Games or any other megaevent or megainvestment project can look to for inspiration or strategic lessons and on which they can base their movements. And the residents who succeeded in remaining on the new Vila Aut\u00f3dromo Street have set the community up to host and support such organizers<\/a>.<\/span><\/p>\n

Click here for Part 6<\/a>.<\/em><\/h3>\n

This is the fifth article in a\u00a0six-part series<\/a>\u00a0that comprises the chapter entitled \u201cNot Everyone Has a Price: How the Small Favela of Vila Aut\u00f3dromo\u2019s Fight Opened a Path to Olympic Resistance\u201d recounting the story of Vila Aut\u00f3dromo\u2019s struggle. The chapter is part of the book \u2018<\/em>Rio 2016: Olympic Myths, Hard Realities<\/a><\/em>.\u2019\u00a0RioOnWatch would like to thank Brookings Press for providing the permission to republish the chapter here in its entirety.<\/em><\/p>\n

Videos from the Violent Day of June 3, 2015:<\/h3>\n