What have Brazil’s protesters won?

AT THE end of June, in response to weeks of protests that attracted at least 1 million people in dozens of Brazilian cities, President Dilma Rousseff announced a set of concessions to protesters' demands: a one-time investment of $25 billion for public transit, tougher penalties for those charged with corruption, and a national referendum on constitutional reform.

While the proposed legally binding referendum was soon replaced by a nonbinding popular plebiscite, due to claims that Rousseff's proposal would encroach on constitutional checks and balances among the branches of government, these concessions represent a symbolic victory for the still-emerging social movement. Moreover, the president's proposal diverts attention from herself as the chief decision-maker--and redirects it toward the divided Congress.

Rousseff's concessions may legitimize the protests, but the mass pressure will be needed most when Congress takes up its own response to the public outcry. At that point, escalating disruptive tactics, including strikes, will be key if protesters hope to prevent reforms from being delayed and diluted.

So what are the issues at stake in Brazil?

According to the Associated Press, 1.2 million people took to the streets across Brazil on June 20 alone. To most observers, the catalysts for these events were a public transit fee hike in São Paolo and other cities, and the costs that the country will incur from hosting the World Cup and the Olympics.

The public will pay for more than 90 percent of the World Cup's estimated cost of $13.5 billion (almost double the initial estimate). As far as the Olympics in Rio, Brazilian taxpayers will outspend the estimated $15 billion spent by their British counterparts during the London 2012 games.

One stadium alone, the Estadio Nacional in Brasilia, cost 1.5 billion reals (almost $700,000). Although the stadium can seat 71,000, it is unlikely these seats will be filled after the World Cup--as the newspaper Valor Economico reports, attendance at the 57 matches held in the area this year was no more than 50,000.

Moreover, research on previous World Cups and Olympics has shown that they have a negligible impact on economic development. Even if these events do increase the short-term revenues for tourism industries--and that assumption has been questioned based on evidence from the Olympics in London and China--the long-term impact is a loss on the investment in a majority of cases, not a gain.

As summarized by Brazilian filmmaker Carla Dauden in a video she uploaded when the protests were barely starting:

Now tell me, in a country where illiteracy can reach 21 percent, a country that ranks 85th in the human development index, a country where 13 million people are underfed every day, and many, many others die every day due to lack of medical treatment, does that country need more stadiums?

While this cycle of protest has taken aim at the disparity between exorbitant investments on World Cup renovations versus the dilapidation of basic public services, the grievances that have emerged from the streets have included wealth inequality, widespread corruption, police brutality and poor investment in social services, such as health care, education, transportation and housing.

The mainstream media have focused on the visible problem, the Games, mainly because they don't understand how to address the abstract. However, popular discontent in Brazil isn't about the tournament, but deep-seated social problems. As one protester's sign summed it up, "Não é contra a seleção--é contra a corrupção! (It's not against the national team, it's against corruption!)"

At the heart of the issue is the government's pursuit of the neoliberal development model. Additional issues that stem from this include, for example, the government's plan to subsidize hundreds of hydroelectric dam projects in the Amazon, at the cost of environmental insecurity and human rights violations against those living in targeted areas. Similarly, the government continues exploring more sites for offshore drilling, and clearing rainforests to support the ethanol biofuel industry.

These are among the hundreds of social, economic and environmental issues that have been the focus of Brazilian movements for decades; now, they have the opportunity to converge and, through political and economic disruption, destabilize this aspiring superpower.

Within the context of the double-set of games coming up in 2014 and 2016, Brazil will take center stage in the global arena, further raising its vulnerability. In other words, Brazilian protesters can really shake the power structure--and indeed, they already have.

One crucial piece of the puzzle that has been ignored in most mainstream accounts of the current protests is the president's activist past.

Dilma Rousseff was raised in an upper-middle class family from Belo Horizonte. In her youth, she joined a Marxist guerilla organization to fight against the military dictatorship that ruled Brazil from 1964 to 1985. In 1970, she was captured and jailed for two years, during which time, like hundreds of thousands of Latin American leftists during the 1960s, '70s, and '80s, she was tortured.

Her career in government is less easily romanticized. As Minister of Energy in former President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva's cabinet, Rousseff oversaw the controversial Belo Monte dam project, even though there was a court injunction prohibiting government preparations for it. In 2010, when Lula left office with the highest approval rating in the country's history, Rousseff, by then his chief of staff and chosen successor, was handily voted into office.

Until recently, Rousseff enjoyed high enough popularity to make her reelection next year and the odds-on favorite. But the political landscape has changed rapidly over the past weeks. Her concessions to the protest movement are therefore an attempt to both rebuild support among her base and co-opt it in her favor.

For movement organizers, a popular plebiscite would represent a major success, even if a short-term one. Far from the passage and enforcement of meaningful reforms, the president's recognition of their efforts has granted activists a symbolic strength that should not be understated. From this perspective, the president is serving the role of an "elite ally"--a key target in power whose interest may overlap with those of the social movement.

On the other hand, this political maneuver--it also helps to divert attention towards the Congress. Rousseff will have to submit the plebiscite to both chambers of the legislature, where more than two-dozen parties are almost evenly divided among opposing coalitions. Lawmakers have promised to put the plebiscite out to the public before the election next year.

Like other left-wing parties in Latin America, Rousseff's Workers Party has embraced the goals of neoliberal macroeconomic development as dictated by the international economy. As more presidents of different stripes defend privatization, austerity and extraction of resources, groups and movements are raising concerns about alarming inattention to basic public needs such as health and education, and the negative prospects this model presents for the environment, indigenous peoples, and human rights.

The potential of these social forces is playing out in Brazil today. As we have learned from other movements, from the Middle East to Wisconsin and Occupy in the U.S., pressure can dissipate at the point when it's most needed--when politicians begin to formulate their responses.

A version of this article was first published at GuidoLions.