The Brazilian Empire of the Braganzas: Endgame Emperor, Dom Pedro II’s Rule

Biographical, Comparative politics, International Relations, Military history, National politics, Regional History

Pedro II’s reign as emperor of Brazil started in the least propitious of circumstances. The first and immediate threat to the longevity of his rule was that he was only five-years-old when he acceded, necessitating a regency in Brazil until he came of age to rule in his own right. The other obstacle was that Brazil was still a fledgling empire wracked by political instability. Civil wars and factionalism plagued the empire, a vast region posing extremely formidable challenges to rule … between 1831 and 1848 there were more than 20 minor revolts including a Muslim slave insurrection and seven major ones (some of these were by secessionist movements). Pedro II had more success in foreign policy, the empire expanded at the expense of neighbours Argentina, Uruguay and Paraguay as the result of a series of continental wars. Some early historians saw Dom Pedro’s long reign in Brazil (1831-1889) as prosperous, enlightened and benevolent (he freed his own slaves in 1840) [Martin, Percy Alvin. “Causes of the Collapse of the Brazilian Empire.” The Hispanic American Historical Review 4, no. 1 (1921): 4-48. Accessed December 3, 2020. doi:10.2307/2506083.], certainly the emperor was viewed widely as a unifying force in Brazil for a good two-thirds of his reign.

1870s, on a course for turbulent waters in the empire
From the 1870s onward however the consensus in favour of the rule of Pedro the ‘Unifier’ had started to show signs of fraying. The institutions that formed the three main pillars of the empire’s constitutional monarchical system—the landowning planter class, the Catholic clergy and the armed forces—were all becoming gradually disaffected from the regime, as were the new professional classes.

The landowning elite
Pedro II’s reign came to an end in 1889 with his overthrow. The pretext for the removal of the Brazilian monarchy, according to the conventional thesis, was grievances of the planter oligarchy at the abolition of slavery (The Golden Law, 1888), which Dom Pedro had given his imprimatur to (CH Haring). This view holds that the landowners deserted the monarchy for the republic because they were not compensated properly for their loss of slaves (Martin). This conclusion has been challenged by Graham et al on several grounds: the plantation owners dominated the imperial government of Pedro making them complicit in the decision to abolish slavery (ie, why would they be acting against their own interests?); many slave-owning planters favoured abolition because it brought an end to the mass flight of slave from properties; the succeeding republic government itself did not indemnify planters for their loss of slaves. More concerning than the abolition of slavery to the planters, in Graham’s view, was the introduction of land reform, something they were intent on avoiding at all costs. The planter oligarchs were willing to concede the end of the slave system so long as it forestalled land reform, the linchpin to real change in the society. Siding with the republicans, Graham concedes, was a calculated risk on their part, as there were many radical and reformist abolitionists¤ under the pro-republic umbrella with a very different agenda (national industrialisation) to them, but one they were willing to take [Hahner ; Graham, Richard. “Landowners and the Overthrow of the Empire.” Luso-Brazilian Review 7, no 2 (1970): 44-56. Accessed December 3, 2020. http://www.jstor.org/stable/3512758.]

🔺 Slaves on a fazenda (coffee farm), 1885

The clergy
The conservative Catholic hierarchy were traditional backers of the emperor and the empire in Brazil. But a conflict of state in the 1870s between secularism and ultramontanism (emphasis on the strong central authority of the pope) undermined the relationship. This religious controversy involving the irmandades (brotherhood) drove a rift between the Brazilian clergy and the monarchy [Hahner, June E. “The Brazilian Armed Forces and the Overthrow of the Monarchy: Another Perspective.” The Americas 26, no. 2 (1969): 171-82. Accessed December 3, 2020. doi:10.2307/980297].

The national army
The army had long-standing resentments about its treatment in Brazilian society…its low wages and the lack of a voice in the imperial cabinet were simmering grievances. Understandable then that together with the republicans, they were in the forefront of the coup against the monarchy, the pronunciamento (military revolt) that occurred in 1889. A key and popular figure influencing the younger officer element away from support for the monarchy was Manuel Deodoro da Fonseca (Marechal de campo in the army). Marshal Deodoro assumed the nominal leadership of the successful coup. Swept up in the turmoil of republican agitation, Deodoro, despite being a monarchist, found to his surprise that he had been elected the republic’s first president. The coup has been described as a “barrack room conspiracy” involving a fraction of the military whose “grievances (were) exploited by a small group of determined men bent on the establishment of the Republic” (Martin).

🔺 Allegory depicting Emperor Pedro’s farewell from Brazil (Image: Medium Cool)

Revolution from above
Historians have noted that the 1889 ‘revolution’ that toppled Pedro II was no popular revolution…it was “top-down”, elite-driven with the notable absence of participation from the povo (“the people”) in the process (Martin). In fact the emperor at the time still retained a high level of popularity among the masses who expressed no great enthusiasm to change the status quo of Brazil’s polity.

The Braganza monarchy, hardly a robust long-term bet
With the health of the ageing Dom Pedro increasingly a matter of concern, the viability of Brazil’s monarchy came under scrutiny. For the military the emperor was not a good role model, Pedro’s own pacifist inclinations did not gel well with the army’s martial spirit. The issue of succession was also a vexed one…Princess Isabel who deputised several times when Dom Pedro was called away to Europe was thought of as a weak heir to the crown. She did not enjoy a positive public perception and Pedro’s transparent failure to exhibit confidence in her did little to bolster her standing, contributing to a further erosion of support for the monarchy [Eakin, M. (2002). Expanding the Boundaries of Imperial Brazil. Latin American Research Review, 37(3), 260-268. Retrieved December 3, 2020, from http://www.jstor.org/stable/1512527]. The Brazilian monarchical state has been characterised as a kind of monarchy-lite which contributed to its lack of longevity – viz it failed to forge an hereditary aristocracy with political privileges, its titles mere honorifics not bestowing social privilege in Brazilian society. So that, by 1889, the empire had been reduced to a “hollow shell” ready to collapse (Martin).

A loose-knit empire?
One perspective of the 19th century empire focuses on the sparseness and size of Brazil’s territorial expanse. Depreciating its status as an ‘empire’, this view depicts it as being in reality comprising something more like a “loose authority over a series of population clusters (stretching) from the mouth of the Amazon to the Río Grande do Sul” (Eakin). The lack of imperial unification, according to another view of the course of its history, surfaced as an ongoing struggle between the periphery (local politics) and the centre (national government), resulting in the weakening of the fabric of the polity [Judy Bieber, cited in Eakin].

Landless and disenfranchised
Other issues in addition white-anted the legitimacy of Dom Pedro’s regime, notably the shrinking of the franchise. By 1881 the number of Brazilians eligible to vote had dropped alarmingly – less than 15% of what it had been just seven years earlier in 1874. And this trend was not corrected by the succeeding republic regime, portending a problematic future for Brazilian harmony because with the new republic came a rapid boost in immigration [‘The Old or First Republic, 1889-1930’, (Country Studies), www.countrystudies.us].

The cards in Brazil were always stacked in favour of the landed elite, an imbalance set in virtual perpetuity after the 1850 Land Law which restricted the number of Brazilians who could be landowners (condemning the vast majority to a sharecropper existence). The law concentrated land in fewer hands, ie, that of the planters, while creating a ready, surplus pool of labour for the plantations [Emília Viotti da Costa, The Brazilian Empire: Myths and Histories (2000)].

Structural seeds of the empire’s eclipse
One theory locates Brazil’s imperial demise squarely in a failure to implement reform. The younger Pedro’s empire, projecting a rhetoric of liberalism which masked an anti-democratic nature, remained to the end unwilling to reform itself. The planter elite, with oligopolistic economic control and sway over the political sphere, maintained a rigid traditional structure of production—comprising latifúndios (large landholdings), slavery and the export of tropical productions (sugar, tobacco, coffee)—while stifling reform initiatives and opposing industrialisation [McCann, Frank D. The Journal of Interdisciplinary History, vol. 18, no. 3, 1988, pp. 576–578. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/203948. Accessed 3 Dec. 2020]. Another criticism of the monarchical government concerns its economic performance. Detractors point to the regime’s failure to take the opportunities afforded by the world boom in trade after 1880, a consequence of which was that powerful provincial interests opted for a federal system [‘The Brazilian Federal State in the Old Republic (1889-1930): Did Regime Change Make a Difference?’, (Joseph L. Love), Lemann Institute of Brazilian Studies, University of Illinois, www.avalon.utadeo.edu.co/]

Primeira República, “King Coffee” and industrial development
Initially the political ascendency in the First Republic lay with the urban-based military. However within a few years the government complexion was changed. The ‘Paulistas’, a São Paulo civilian cliche of landowners, elbowed the ineffectual Deodora aside. Exploiting differences between the army and the navy, the landowning elite then edged the remaining uniformed ministers out of the cabinet [Hahner], consolidating the “hegemonic leadership” of monolithic Paulista coffee planters in the republic.The First (or Old) Republic (1889-1930) was marked by uneven, stop-start spurts of industrialisation together with high level production of coffee for export. The Old Republic ended with another coup by a military junta in 1930 which in turn led to the Vargas dictatorship [Font; Graham].

Río de Janeiro, 1889 🔺

Endnote: The anomalous Brazilian empire of the 19th century
During its 60-plus years of existence Brazil’s empire stood out among the post-colonial states of 19th century Central and South America as the single viable monarchy in a sea of republicanism. Briefly on two occasions it was joined by México, also a constitutional monarchy but one that didn’t truly take root. On the second occasion the fated Emperor Maximilian—who was Pedro II’s first cousin—tried to forge an imperial network of sorts with Brazil.

🔺 Confederados of Americana, Brazil (Photo: Business Insider)

PostScript: Confederados in Brazil
After the South’s defeat in the American Civil War, Pedro II, wanting to cultivate cotton in the empire, invited Southerners to settle in Brazil which still practiced slavery (others went to México or to other Latin American states, even to Egypt). Estimates of between 10 and 20 thousand took up Dom Pedro’s offer, settling mainly in São Paulo. Most of these Confederados found the hardships too challenging and returned home after Reconstruction, some however stayed on in Brazil with their descendants still living in places like the city in São Paulo named Americana [‘The Confederacy Made Its Last Stand in Brazil’, (Jesse Greenspan), History, upd. 22-Jun-2020, www.history.com].

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a dominant force in Brazilian economics and society which had benefitted from the 1850 Brazilian land law which restricted the number of landowners

¤ such as Joaquim Nabuco

the planter elite decided in the end that a governo federal system would better protect their land monopolisation than the empire could (Graham)

coffee from Minas Gerais, Río de Janeiro and especially São Paulo plantations were the mainstay of the Brazilian economy (Font)

Yucatán’s Not So Insular Peninsula, Mérida 1: A Green Zócalo, Colonial Mansiones Grandioso and a Trifecta of Free Museums

Regional History, Travel

Leaving Palenque meant another all-night bus journey, this time to Mérida. The earlier overnighter, from Oaxaca to San Cristóbal, had been a bit of a “horror trip” for me – one long, draining and unpleasant ride. This time, as we wheeled our luggage along the uneven pebbly road surface to the La Cañada bus depot, I was feeling much more sanguine about the bus trip ahead. Mérida was only 480-odd kilometres and (hopefully) no more than nine hours away, The road in Yucatán especially Highway 190D was better than in Chiapas and we were going away from the hills of western Chiapas where the threat such as it was to vehicles from the Zapatista rebels seemed to be concentrated. It also felt reassuring that this time I wouldn’t be doing the long bus trek solo.

Mérida: town planning by numbers!

On this occasion the overnighter did go smoothly and incident free, arriving at our new hotel in Mérida in just over nine hours. After a bistro breakfast of eggs and pancakes the only thing to do was slip on the joggers for an exploratory walk around the new territory. In terms of acreage I discovered that Mérida was quite a big place. After initially traipsing too far the wrong way away from Centro and finding f-all apart from a host of big international hotels, I doubled-back towards the historical quarter. Being short on the MXN folding stuff I spent much of the morning searching the local money-changers for the best deal before settling for a hole-in-the-wall tienda in Calle 55 that was offering 18-something for the USD*.

“Lovers’ double-handlers” – for Amantes gigantes!

The cambio de dinero was next to a cute little park called Parque de Santa Lucia. Here whilst buying some lunch I spotted for the first time a unique and endearing feature of the city’s parks…Meridians were big on these quaint “double-handler” seats or as someone described them to me, “the lovers’ seats the colour of white doves”💕: two U-shaped seats joined and facing each other to form a reversed ‘S’, so that the couple were diagonally positioned at a slight angle to one another. I later found theses distinctive seats elsewhere, especially in Plaza Grande.

Pasaje de la Revolucion

Scouting round the pueblo Viejo, the old town still has lots of wonderfully grand and dazzlingly elegant large colonial buildings, many with recent face-lifts it seems. As always in the Hispanic-speaking world the focal point of the city’s buzz was around the zócalo, the evergreen Plaza Grande, AKA Plaza De la Independencia (sometimes also known as Pasaje de la Revolucion)☿. On the cathedral side of the Plaza a line of brightly decorated horses and carts stood round waiting to catch the eye of visitors attracted by the prospect of a romantic, twilight carriage ride around antiguo Mérida. The carriage route includes a slow jog along the famous Paseo de Montejo (more of the Montejos below) which is lined with 19th century mansions.

Casa Monteja: stamping on the subjugated natives!

Museo Casa de Mantejo: The colonial boot-print
Museums are high on many visitors’ “to see” list in Mérida City and Plaza Grande is an ideal place to start a quest of the city’s history…and Mérida has lots of visible history, dating from 1542 – just 50 years after Columbus’s mis-discovery of India(sic). Museo Casa de Mantejo, directly opposite the zócalo on the south side was my first stop on the history trail. The 470 year-old mansion at № 506 Calle 63 is beautifully renovated inside with classy period furnishings, but it is Casa Mantejo’s facade that makes it most distinctive and most talked about. The Montejo family (the conquerors of Yucatán) started building the house immediately after the city was founded (it was completed in 1549) and it wears its ancient lineage in the weathered (albeit recently patched-up) character of the facade⊙. The unusual sculptural ornamentation surrounding the entrance is what marks it out for comment…two Spanish conquistadors armed with halberds stand – literally – on top of the heads of smaller figures, that of crushed down native Americans. The complete lack of subtlety of the carvings are a stark symbol of the absolute colonial power imbalance in force between the old and the new communities during that era. An odd assortment of other decorative symbols adorn the friezes of the entrance and the two front windows, including cherubs, monsters and demons.

Montejo courtyard

Special mention should be given to the interior courtyard of Casa Montejo. The austere fawn and white balcony walls of the mansion look out on to an attractive and tranquil setting – a central courtyard consisting of a series of fountains with a knob-ended cross design and native plants and bushes nestling round them.

Olimpio Cultural Center

Olimpo Cultural Center, Calle 61 x 62, Centro
I checked out two other museums also adjoining the Plaza Principal square. Heading back north from Casa Montejo I passed a couple of Dairy Queen stores catering for Mexican sweet tooths (DQs are almost as prevalent a sight in many Mexico cities as Oxxo stores) and came to a long, modern white building on the corner. This building, looking a bit like a beautiful but sterile government office building, had a lengthy corridor leading to an interior central courtyard that had a simple elegance in its all-white layout. Before I got to see the courtyard’s contents, a lethargic and apathetic looking official at the front desk made me sign-in to a visitors’ book (same as with Casa Montejo)❃. Upon entering the circular courtyard there wasn’t much to see other than space, freshly polished white and grey marble floor…and space! There was also nobody else there visiting at the time, so I was the only one looking at what was essentially blank space. This was not entirely true…inside the impressive arches of the patio were a scattering of exhibits of small colourful but unexceptional paintings, the sort you’d see in a community art centre or in a school exhibition…the abundance of unencumbered space reminded me, on a vastly smaller scale of course, of the famous Museo Guggenheim in Bilbao, Spain, and with even fewer exhibits than Bilbao!✧

Courtyard of Museo Fernando GPM

The Ateneo Peninsular building, Calle 58 x 60, Pasaje de la Revolucion, Centro
The third of the museums fronting the verdant zócalo – all of them gratis si se carga 🙂 – that I visited is on the cathedral side of the Plaza. Museo Fernando Garcia Ponce Macay is housed in a 16th century, light grey neoclassical building that bears the name “Ateneo Peninsular” chiselled into its facade. The Museo which specialises in modern and contemporary art is contained within a part of the complex that historically held an executive function, the Governor’s Palace. After you sign in at Security and stand in the courtyard’s decorative garden, you can get a glimpse of what is the best reason to visit Museo Fernando GPC. On the lime green and white walls of the first-floor balcony are murals that are part of the museum’s permanent exhibition.

Ateneo Peninsular, next to El Catedral
Castro’s ‘Conquista’

PostScript: Mérida and the Muralistas
The murals at Museo FGPC and the other enormous paintings of the same scale on display (strictly speaking not murals because they were not painted directly on to the wall) are part of a Mexican Muralistas tradition, and of course instantly reminded me of the great history murals of Diego Rivera that I saw in Mexico City. And like Rivera and the other Muralistas, the artist responsible for them, Fernando Castro Pachero, upheld the ethos that art should be publicly available, not restricted to the exclusive domain of rich private collectors. Castro’s mural works in the museum exhibit the very distinctive style of the artist – sombre and sparing choice of colours, monotone contrasting of dark and light, sketchily pencil drawn outlines of figures. The paintings of the battle scenes convey an almost claustrophobic intensity in the proximity of each side of combatants.

In a long, rectangular room of the former palace you can find the bulk of the Castro artworks on display, all painted between 1973 and 1975. Thematically similar to Rivera as well, the canvasses depict scenes from turbulent and bloody episodes of Mexico’s history – eg, the Conquesta, the Caste War, the 1860s overthrow of the imposed emperor Maximilian I, Gonzalo Guerrero (credited with parenting the first mestizo in Mexico). The Castro murals are well worth a look, especially as you won’t need to part with any pesos to view them!

Plaza De la Independencia (Zócalo)

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* after Oaxaca I had given up on banks as a source for Mexican currency…one frustrating, totally wasted morning in Oaxaca I tramping all over the joint, trying Scotia, Santander and even the non-Mexican HSBC, none of them would exchange my USD, all ridiculously insisting I had to open an account first?!?
☿ Mérida’s zócalo was one of the most picturesque public spaces we saw in Mexico, a veritable oasis of green palms, bushy trees and ferns erupting as it were out of a concrete foundation
⊙ in architectural terms Casa de Montejo is a civic Renaissance building in the Spanish Plateresco style
❃ entry to all three Mérida museums I visited was free of charge
✧ with more information acquired after my visit I would happily concede my first impressions didn’t do the OCC full justice…there is a little more to it than the sparse scattering of unexceptional paintings – the building contained a planetarium, showed films and had a beautiful outdoor arched balcony with checkerboard floors (not open when I made my visit)