Last Sunday, we had elections here in Brazil. In spite of the fact that day-to-day life is better than it ever has been -- the lowest unemployment ever, reduced poverty, growing GDP, improving environmental conditions -- the far right defeated the party that had brought all of those benefits.

This week, I'm looking at how that happened. Why is the far right so strong in Brazil? The explanation takes us deep into history, into the kitchens and elevators of apartment buildings, and into how Brazilians see race.

In the South of the island of Santa Catarina, nestled between steep hills and the blue bay, twenty small children prepared a performance for their parents and grandparents. Heads and torsos appeared above colorful costumes made of papier-mâché and fabric: Bento was inside a red ox, a friend inside a toucan and another inside a vulture. There was a cowboy whose body poked through a horse; a goat, and the emblematic creature of the Boi de Mamão: the Bernunça. Half dragon and half alligator, with an immense mouth to devour children, this Bernunça came to life with four girls inside it.

The Boi de Mamão — a ritual/game/play (brincadeira) common along the coast of the state of Santa Catarina — serves as a fascinating illustration of how play can function as memory and a power to “sustain the world.”

With clips from the movies “Um boi para as crianças”, “Coragem de Brincar o Boi,” and “Como fazer uma zarabatana”, directed by Rita Oenning da Silva and Kurt Shaw.

When we look beyond the idea that the goal of the game is to win, we see that the game transforms the player; the relationship with the “opponent” transforms the player. When an escola de samba performs or during the Kuarup in Xingu, we can’t talk distinguish between the artist and the work of art or between the subject and the object she manipulates. Nor does this art really fall into the “I-Thou” dynamics so thoughtfully analyzed by mid-century Jewish thinkers like Buber and Levinas. We don’t really know if the Morena de Angola is shaking the shaker, or if the shaker is shaking her, as the classic samba lyrics insists.

With the help of little kids, toys, and farm animal, we learn how play can help us overcome the polarization of the zero sum game.

“When we play the drums and dance, my happiness grows together with yours,” says Ciany Castro, leader of a Tambor de Crioula. Unlike a material good — a pie, a chocolate bar, the stock of a corporation — joy is not a fixed, limited, dividable thing. The amount of happiness grows based on what activities we do, how happy you are, how happy I am, how happy a child around us is. In the realm of economic necessity, it might make sense to talk of a zero-sum game, but the moment that we talk about another immensely important aspect of human being — happiness — the fundamental premise of game theory just isn’t true. It doesn’t even make sense.

Everything in our culture is a type of art.

A song is art for us. Dancing is art. A prayer is art. From the moment you start smoking the ritual pipe to speak with the deities, making that connection with Nhanderu—that's art.

Body painting is art. It's making a connection with Nhanderu, so it's a type of art.

Of course, there isn't a word in Guarani for "art." But everything is related to art. It's all connected to spirituality.

The Guarani people see art, spirituality, dance, and agriculture as a way of creating the beauty tat sustains and justifies the world. And all of these activities are play, a way of bringing joy into the world. If our life rotates around play instead of profit, they ask, what would it look like?

Interviews in the podcast come from various movies made by Usina da Imaginação and directed by Rita Oenning da Silva and Kurt Shaw: The Art of Play (2026) and Brincar na Roda de Tambor (2024), and The Rhythm of Liberation (2025).

The idea that politics is really about creating and defining enemies — and that identity only emerges from hate — is not inevitable. In this episode of Learning from Brazil, we look at how some children and indigenous thinkers show other ways to think about who I am, who you are; who we are and who they are. When we see that culture connects us in an almost physical way -- one girl described music as a sort of transpersonal synaptic connection between people -- and that more than one soul can inhabit a single body, we can think politics and culture in new ways.

And when we use these other frames for thinking, conflict and difference can be something much more productive and less threatening, a way to grow instead of something to fear.

Interviews in the podcast come from various movies made by Usina da Imaginação and directed by Rita Oenning da Silva and Kurt Shaw: Arte em tempos de Pandemia: Eliz (2021), Novo Futuro (2021), Mar de Liberdade (2021) and A Infância Festiva (2024).

Conflict is inevitable. We live in a world of diverse interests, ideas, and perspectives. An unequal world, and unjust world. If you try to resolve a conflict, you’re saying that it is, somehow, false. That the situation where we live should be one of harmony and balance, if people could just see it through the one right lens. But there isn’t just one right lens!

The most important lesson we had to learn — and then to teach — is that conflict is productive. It’s good. I learn from the dispute that I have with the other person, and I grow from it: and so does he.

If you think that you should be able to resolve a conflict — I mean, make it go away, show that everyone’s interest are really the same — and yet that conflict stubbornly persists, then violence appears to be the right way to resolve it.

In the Amazon as in Medellín, part of rethinking politics comes when we understand that conflict is not bad: in fact, it’s an opportunity. For growth, for learning, for encounter.

Interviews in the podcast come from various movies made by Shine a Light, especially “The Trenches of Peace (2006) and Bombonera, Corazón de Moravia (2026).

This circle, expressed in thought, story, and cultural practice, offers one Brazilian — and particularly afro-Brazilian — way to think outside of the logic of opposition and polarization. This strength of identity can come from the center of gravity in a spinning dancer, a cultural circle, the connection to an umbilical cord, the steps of a samba, or the curly hair of an old quilombo philosopher.

Interviews in the podcast come from various movies made by Usina da Imaginação and directed by Rita Oenning da Silva and Kurt Shaw: The Rhythm of Liberation (2025), Brincar na Rosa de Tambor (2024, and Sambar é Filosofar (2024).