June 23, 2004:
In a 2003 speech delivered at the World Social Forum in Porto Allegre,
Brazil, the eminent linguist and political analyst Noam Chomsky
called the MST—or Landless Workers' Movement—the most
important and exciting popular movement in the world. To Inherit
the Earth tells the astonishing story of that movement, a grassroots,
family-oriented effort of about a million Brazilian poor seeking
land on which to live with dignity and security. It is an agricultural
movement, one of farmers and farm workers, built on the idea that
agrarian reform is a necessary step towards a just and fraternal
society.
The MST, short for Movimiento dos Trabalhadores Rurais Sem-Terra,
was formed in 1984, a year before the collapse of the military dictatorship
that throttled Brazil for over two decades. From its inception until
2002, the MST won a total of over 20 million acres for over 350,000
Brazilian families. MST’s strategy is to occupy land in peaceful
protest of the unjust distribution of land in Brazil and of the
government’s failure to carry out land reform as promised.
Brazilian law states that landowners must put their land to good
use or lose it. The actual practices of the landowners fall heinously
short of this ‘good use’ requirement. That’s where
the MST comes in. Families camp out, sometimes for years, until
the government either violently forces them off or offers them land.
Like Brazil itself, To Inherit the Earth is hefty but
never dull. Wendy Wolford and Angus Wright, professors of geography
and environmental studies respectively, present the MST within the
context of Brazil’s history of slavery and inequality. They
write of a Brazil where helicopters transport the wealthy between
skyscraper rooftops while below them, in diseased and overpopulated
slums, new arrivals flood in from the country, often bribing truckers
to fill marshes with garbage on which they might construct shacks
of cardboard and metal siding. It is a Brazil where landowners have
expanded their estates by forging land deeds and then dropping them
into a box of hungry crickets to give them an aged (or at least
nibbled) look. Wolford and Wright touch upon more history and facts
about Brazil than one would expect in a single book (from the rise
of liberation theology to the fact that ants make up 20 percent
of all animal weight in the Amazon). But the authors are not armchair
academics: they traveled frequently to Brazil, visiting various
MST settlements, including one that was burnt down by privately
hired gunmen two days before their arrival. Much of the book reads
like fine journalism, and we hear directly from the MST activists
about their achievements and setbacks.
The setbacks are major. Because MST challenges the holdings of
Brazil’s corrupt and powerful landowning elite, they pay a
severe price. The government has sent in spies and provocateurs
to cause division among them. The press often slanders them, calling
them illegal occupiers of land, subverters of democracy or violent
troublemakers, though the violence is almost entirely inflicted
upon the landless workers. Local bosses hire private gunmen to assassinate
organizers. In some cases, there are outright massacres, as in the
1996 El Dorado dos Carajas massacre where military police opened
fire on a peaceful MST march, killing nineteen people and injuring
many more.
But MST is well organized, its members committed to winning a decent
life. Inspired by the enlightened educational philosophy of Gilberto
Freyre, they have focused on establishing progressive schools and
educational programs throughout Brazil. The MST has gained increasing
national and international acclaim—even receiving Sweden’s
The Right Livelihood Award (‘The Alternative Nobel Prize’)—and
it is no longer as easy for the landowners to use force against
them. But the MST still faces challenges. Brazil’s legacy
of patronage, hierarchy, and poverty has a crippling effect on the
decentralized structure MST strives for. Also problematic is the
tendency of people to withdraw from the MST once they gain land.
Meanwhile, landowners remain immensely powerful and maintain legal
impunity—as San Salvadoran Archbishop Oscar Romero said: “Justice
is like a snake: it only bites the barefooted.” Throughout
To Inherit the Earth, the authors give a balanced perspective,
neither shying from criticism out of sympathy to the cause, nor
shying from praise where it is due.
The United States, making its sentiments felt through the International
Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank, is not particularly fond
of the popular agrarian reform efforts of the MST. Extractive, multinational
corporations benefit from the very same conditions—low wages,
a landless and dependent workforce, weak regulation—that impoverish
Brazilians and wreak havoc on the environment. In 1997 the World
Bank offered an alternative to MST efforts by implementing a “market
land reform” project, offering low-interest loans with which
people could purchase land. The trouble was that the landowners,
aware that these loans were available, would just bargain harder.
It did benefit some families, but it did not approach the level
of MST successes. Some of the more irreverent Brazilians began to
call the project the “agrarian reform through virgin birth.”
To Inherit the Earth is a good book, and an important
one. This very moment, tens of thousands of families throughout
Brazil are taking direct part, at no small risk to themselves, in
a non-violent, revolutionary movement for a more egalitarian Brazil.
For those of us who feel helpless before the seemingly insoluble
problems of the world, and for those of us who do not live in acute
poverty with gunmen and military squads at our backs, understanding
the accomplishments of movements like the MST should be both humbling
and invigorating. 
Constantine Markides is a freelance writer and novelist living
in Portland, Maine. Between writing stints, he plants trees in Vermont
and sterns on a lobster boat off Maine's Monhegan Island.
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