In the conversation between Frank and Ismar, the latter shares his reflections on his political campaign for the city council in Campo Grande, Brazil, while also delving into broader observations about Brazilian society. The discussion weaves through personal anecdotes, reflecting Ismar’s evolving perceptions of politics, people, and community.
Ismar begins by recounting his journey over the last few years, marked by his relocation from Curitiba to Campo Grande to care for his mother. Despite the challenges, he maintained his intellectual pursuits, particularly through his writing at the Brida Community. Over time, Ismar became more involved in political activism, and while he initially felt that running for public office was outside his comfort zone, he now views it as a “gift” that has provided valuable insights into his society. He explains, “It has been a great opportunity to reflect about many subjects, people, about myself, about Brazilian politics.” He mentions how his daily walks in the neighbourhood have changed his way of observing people, institutions, and even the city’s public spaces. This heightened awareness has left him marvelling at the diversity of human behaviour and the “necessity” some people have for conversation, which he observes with interest, especially in encounters with strangers.
He gives an example of two elderly women he spoke with, one of whom came from a more organized area near São Paulo and remarked on the stark differences in safety and infrastructure. Ismar juxtaposes their conversation with another more disturbing trend—rising cases of non-violent theft in his neighbourhood. He notes, “The case of stealing around my neighbourhood is bigger than I imagined, and people are scared.” This, combined with the prevalence of fierce dogs guarding every house, led him to reflect on how fear permeates everyday life, humorously commenting, “Many times if that dog escaped from the house, I will be a dead man.”
The conversation then shifts to a reflection on corruption and politics. Ismar shares that, although many people in his community seem indifferent to political corruption—accepting bribes or voting in exchange for favours—he remains hopeful because some citizens, albeit a minority, disapprove of such practices. He remarks, “The majority wants some advantage from politicians to vote.” However, he finds satisfaction in knowing “there are some people that disapprove it completely,” which gives him hope for potential change. This duality in people, between self-interest and a desire for community betterment, is a recurring theme in Ismar’s reflections. He shares a striking anecdote of a man who was angry that he missed an opportunity to drink beer at a bar on a politician’s tab, a revealing example of how transactional politics has become for some voters. “He got very angry because he couldn’t drink beer on the politician’s account,” Ismar recalls.
Frank presses Ismar on whether his perception of people has changed during his campaign, and Ismar admits that about 80% of people show little concern for their community’s well-being. This realization is sobering but not entirely surprising to him. “The majority don’t worry about it,” he reflects, estimating that “maybe the maximum of 20 percent are interested in having a better community.” Despite this, he finds moments of connection, such as a positive encounter with a man who, despite his modest circumstances, maintained a rich intellectual life through crossword puzzles—a man who also promised to vote for Ismar. “He communicates well… a very energetic man… and here is your little hat, I’ll vote for you,” Ismar recounts, impressed by the man’s contentment despite his hardships.
The conversation also touches on the dynamics within Ismar’s own political party. Ismar is disillusioned by some members who prioritize personal gain over collective action, particularly in a recent meeting where gossip overshadowed any productive discussion about campaign strategy. “I thought it was a meeting to solve a problem… and I heard more gossip than anything else,” he laments. After several unproductive hours, he left the meeting, frustrated: “I don’t have time to spend two hours to talk about gossip, and with no objectives.”
As the October 6th election approaches, Ismar reflects on what he has learned. Initially, he lacked confidence in his ability to communicate effectively with voters. Now, after months of campaigning, he feels more relaxed and capable. “I feel almost completely relaxed to talk to people,” Ismar says, a shift that surprises him. He compares his growth as a communicator to learning a new language, a process he likens to Frank’s experience of mastering French through necessity rather than formal education. “I suppose that now I don’t see myself as a good communicator as I would like to be, but I’m conscious now that I’m a little bit better than what I thought before.”
Looking ahead, Ismar is undecided about whether he will run for office again in future elections. He recognizes the significant financial and emotional toll of political campaigns but hints that the experience may have left him with a “virus”—a newfound desire to continue participating in the political process. However, he remains realistic about the limitations of his party, which lacks the financial resources of larger parties like those of Bolsonaro and Lula. “It’s almost impossible to compete with them,” Ismar notes, acknowledging the financial disparity.
Ismar’s candid reflections capture the complex, often contradictory nature of human behaviour, especially in the context of politics and community. While much of what he has observed leaves him disillusioned, there are still moments of optimism, particularly when he connects with individuals who defy the general apathy he perceives in his society.
What motivates people to act selflessly in the face of widespread indifference? And in a society where corruption is so deeply embedded, how do we maintain hope for change? These are questions that emerge from Ismar’s journey, offering much food for thought.