On "environmental sustainability" and housing rights

Yesterday, I was walking home from the gym with my fiance. We got to talking about my research here, which is always a contentious topic for the two of us. Like many middle to upper class Brazilians, my fiance has a deeply ingrained bias against the comunidades and their residents. As you are well aware by now, I have little tolerance for this sort of anti-urban poor mentality. On this particular occasion, we began to butt heads over the environmental argument in favor of evictions. "Favelados* desmatam!" my fiance scoffed. "Favela-residents deforest!" In a dramatic flourish, he then flung his gum wrapper into the canal that parallels our street.

The hypocrisy of his statements and actions speak for themselves. Sure, comunidade residents deforest and pollute. But, don't we all, in a way? Just because a construction company - and not I - felled the trees to build my home in New Orleans, does that abscond me of blame for having deforested the land? Or do I get off scott-free because I'm not residing on it "illegally"? How can a "legal" resident like my fiance accuse an "illegal" resident of polluting, and then proceed to toss his trash in a river? These are the sorts of questions that our short-lived discussion prompted me to explore. Let's take a look:

Up until the 1970s, the policies and programs of major multilateral lending agencies failed to incorporate human impact on the environment in their agendas. "Development" and "environmental preservation" were considered incompatible goals, and rapid industrialization was viewed as the primary means of bolstering economic growth. In Brazil in particular, import-substitution industrialization (ISI) encouraged the city-centric model of growth, and migrants from the rural Northeast began their mass exodus to the Southern metropolises of Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro. The height of the ISI model in the mid-1960s also marked the peak of the immigration wave. Comunidade growth rates outpaced those of overall urban growth rates by as much as 7%, and by the end of the decade Rio de Janeiro had over 300 informal settlements. Because zoning regulations had prohibited construction at elevations above 100m, Rio's hillsides were largely undeveloped and became the logical settlements for rural migrants. Initially, the state government paid little mind to the environmental impacts of both industrialization and precarious urbanization. The result was an increasingly polluted city for which comunidade residents would increasingly bear the blame. Comunidades were seen as hotbeds of hygienic and environmental disaster, whose residents were responsible for creating the "subhuman" conditions in which they were condemned to live. Few subscribers of the view that comunidades were ulcers marring an otherwise pristine cityscape were cognizant of the fact that the proliferation of informality was an innovative response to a metropolis incapable of and unwilling to absorb the influx of migrants.

The interconnectedness of the environment, politics, urban planning was not articulated in earnest until the late 1970s, with the rise of the Green Revolution. The product of increased awareness of the inverse relationship between population growth and the abundance of natural resources (see: 1973 oil crisis), the Green Revolution has made significant, irreversible contributions to the field of international development. Today, one would be hard-pressed to find a post-1980 World Bank project, government grant proposal, or UN Charter that does not include the phrase "environmental sustainability." Ostensibly, the establishment of international and domestic standards for environmental preservation is a positive development, as it has become increasingly clear that human strain on the planet jeopardizes the future of the human race.

The Green Revolution has suggested that development and environmental sustainability are not mutually exclusive, and that countries should therefore embrace "green" development over "brown" development. But what does "environmental sustainability" actually imply? What are the benefits and consequences of "environmentally sustainable" development? Is there any segment of the population that may not benefit from environmental regulations?

In the case of Rio, the answer to this last question is, unfortunately, yes. This is not to suggest that environment-friendly policymaking has an inherent, unavoidable bias against a certain group of individuals. However, the trendiness of "environmental sustainability" in Brazil coupled with its predominantly middle and upper-class proponents makes it an excellent rationale for forced evictions. Using the guise of "environmental risk," as outlined in the Lei Organica do Municipio, the municipal government can thereby harness support of Cariocas like my fiance, who believe that "favelados" degrade, pollute, and destroy.

The problem is, this argument is both hypocritical and discriminatory. Let's once again consider the case of Vila Autodromo, a community slated for removal because of its "environmental risk." What is the difference between the comunidade resident who constructs his humble, self-built home on Lake Jacarepagua, and the resident of a 20-story "legal" condominium some 500 meters away? Both constructions are located within the same radius  from the water's edge, both required some degree of deforestation, and both produce some degree of water-borne pollution. Yet, invariably, the "illegal" resident gets stuck with the blame, despite the fact that in most cases, his house predates the "legally" constructed condominium.

May 29th, 2011 storm that damaged the coastal boundaries
of  wealthy Zona Sul neighborhoods.
Photo credit: itapoapordentro.blogspot.com

Furthermore, the "environmental risk" clause is vague in nature. Who poses the risk to whom? Do the comunidade residents pose a risk to themselves, or to the "legal" residents of the surrounding "formal" neighborhoods? The municipal government's decision to raze Autodromo appears to have been predicated on latter; Autodromo's inhabitants have been accused of polluting the lake and deforesting the surrounding area, thereby sullying the region for the "legal" residents. The environmental hazards Autodromo residents confer upon themselves are negligible; the area has not experienced any significant flooding in residents' memory, natural soil filtration is used to purify sewage, and community's flat terrain presents zero risk for a landslide. If the municipal government is truly concerned about "environmental risk," perhaps they should consider relocating the wealthy neighborhoods of Ipanema, Arpoador -which are projected to be the areas most adversely affected by rising sea levels. 

The use of the environment to further criminalize informality seems even more dubious when one considers the average carbon footprint of a comunidade resident. They use public transportation, bicycles, and foot to commute. Cooling is usually provided by fans, not central air. Light, electricity, and water use is kept to a minimum. Yet, it's perfectly acceptable for the upper class Carioca who chastizes "aqueles favelados" for putting strain on the environment to hop in his car (despite living in an area well-serviced by mass transit), blast the AC, and drive home to his condominium where he will be greeted by a water-guzzling fountain illuminated by 24-hour exterior lighting. This sort of "fair-weather environmentalism" is hypocritical and self-serving; as Edesio mentioned this week in class, "I wonder what percent of Cariocas who clamored for the construction of "eco-limit" walls around Dona Marta have ever set foot in the Tijuca Rainforest preserve."

Lastly, it is abhorrent that the municipal government is insinuating that "environmental sustainability" should be prioritized over housing, livelihoods, and the preservation of social networks for comunidade residents. The hierarchy of needs of Eduardo Paes does not mirror the hierarchy of needs of someone living in Vila Autodromo, and the right to four walls and a roof trumps the prefeitura's right to reconstruct Rio de Janeiro as a playground for the wealthy and the powerful.

I pollute. I have contributed to deforestation. And I have definitely peed in a lake. But, because I am not living informally, I have not been criminalized for my actions. Until the municipal government and its clientelistic elite cronies agree to share the blame for environmental degradation, and until they cease to use the it as an excuse to forcibly evict, I will refuse to subscribe to their definition of "environmental sustainability."

*This is a pejorative term for a comunidade resident

Some final words on the forced removal of Vila Autodromo (Part 6 of 6)

“Sweeping Dirt Under the Rug”

The consequences of forced evictions have been widely publicized. Amnesty International, UN-HABITAT, and the Coalition on Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE) have all released numerous reports directly linking evictions to the replication of poverty.

Families rendered homeless by South African World Cup
evictions. Photo Credit: Reuters

In post-World Cup South Africa, evictees were stripped of their livelihoods and saddled with unemployment. In the case of Rio de Janeiro, a city which lists poverty eradication as one of its top goals, the evidence that forced removals promote the reproduction of poverty should be cause for concern. Instead, Paes’ short-sighted policies ignore the economic argument against razings and embrace removals and poorly- compensated relocations, despite the documented objections of the aforementioned international organizations. Residents refer to this untenable method of confronting poverty as an attempt to “esconder sujeira debaixo do tapete” (“sweep dirt under the rug”), an idiom tailor-made for describing the government’s efforts to obscure the unglamorous reality of poverty from the watchful gaze of FIFA, the IOC, and the media.

In cases where evictees are provided with subsidized Minha Casa Minha Vida housing, only the cost of monthly rent is assumed by the government. Evictees are expected to contribute a “symbolic fee” of $50 Brazilian reais per month toward the purchase of a home which, in many cases, is in inferior in quality to their previous residences. Of course, this fee does not include any additional monetary imposition placed upon residents by the militia in exchange for utility provision (in one case, reported to be in excess of $100 reais) and “protection¹.” When one considers the economic and social costs of relocating to a Minha Casa Minha Vida residence, it comes as little surprise that some residents have already sold their units and moved out. However, it has been anonymously reported that the militia also extort a 20% “sales tax” from any resident who wishes to vacate his or her apartment² With a lack of affordable housing options and little left in their pockets after effectively financing their own relocation, it is likely that those who abandon the apartments will either resettle in other informal settlements or create entirely new ones. Clearly, such a relocation strategy contributes to - rather than combats - poverty.

In one of the worst possible examples of the government’s failure to provide adequate housing options to its residents, 74 families were driven from their Minha Casa Minha Vida apartments in the West Zone of Rio by the militia, with the apparent aim of reselling the units and pocketing the profits. Where the 74 families rendered homeless by the militia have gone is unclear.

Fatal landslides in the Serrana Region. Photo credit: UOL

The Fallacious “Risk” Argument
While the government continues to carry out evictions predicated on the “environmental risk” clause, the 840 deaths caused by the recent landslides in Rio’s mountainous Serrana region call into question the true motives behind mega-event-related removals. The Serrana disaster was an instance of real, demonstrated environmental risk, and one that also could have been avoided had the government acknowledged the precarious location of the region’s hillside comunidades and provided safer housing options. That the government instead has chosen to allocate funds and resources to removing communities such as Vila Autodromo - which lies on flat and has not had a significant flood in residents’ memory - while simultaneously failing to take measures to prevent the biggest climate-related disaster in Brazilian history is an unconscionable hypocrisy.

A Final Word
Toward the end of my visit to Vila Autodromo, community leader Jane tells me that the residents are not categorically opposed to relocation, nor the mega-events that their city will host. Rather, she explains, they are against the municipal government’s top-down removal process that fails to consider the voices of the affected residents and manipulates the laws designed to protect them.

The stories relayed to me residents of several different communities facing removal corroborate Jane’s accusations. They include allegations of zero-notice removals, children forced to sign evictions papers when adults are absent, relocations to areas up to 50km away, verbal abuse and physical threats, and unfulfilled promises of compensation. As professor Christopher Gaffney explains, the mega-event preparation is “very authoritarian, top-down, with no public audiences, no democratic participation - and it’s going to change the city forever.”

For the Seu Franciscos of the city, it seems like the changes will be for the worse.

1. A resident of a Minha Casa Minha Vida apartment, who wished to remain anonymous, quoted a price of BRL $15/month for 

   the milicia's "security tax"

2. The same resident quoted the 20% “sales tax” figure in the same interview

The Blame Game

Part 5 in a 6-part series on the removal of Vila Autodromo

While at first glance, the apparent community-razing culprits are Eduardo Paes and the Municipal Housing Office (SMH), all of the blame cannot be placed on Rio’s government. FIFA, which spearheads the World Cup, and the International Olympic Committee (IOC), responsible for the organization of the Olympic Games, are equally guilty of fueling the comunidade removals. The involvement of municipal government in the razings is motivated largely by FIFA and the IOC’s need to ensure revenue from their respective events, as well as guarantee their continued marketability once the events are over. Both of these goals are complicit in the municipal government’s decision to remove certain communities and relocate residents with little or no compensation.

Eduardo Paes and FIFA's General Secretary Jermome Valke.
Photo Credit: O Globo

The ultimate goal of profit generation is the most obvious scapegoat. After all, FIFA and the IOC are, at heart, private enterprises which have the shared goal of walking away from their respective mega-events with a hefty profit. As Alan Maiden, a South African professor of urban planning recently explained in a debate on the impact of mega-events on host cities, FIFA pocketed over $3 billion from last year’s World Cup - nearly half the total profit of the event. In order to guarantee an equally attractive profit in 2014 and 2016, FIFA and the IOC impose strict prerequisites on host cities which ensure a positive consumer experience. Namely, the organizations mandate that a certain number of hotels, tourist venues, stadiums, and transportation hubs be in place prior to hosting the mega-events. In order to execute the massive infrastructural overhaul that these events require, it follows that some residents might have to be relocated. Again, however, it is by and large low-income and informal areas that are the most adversely effected by event-related development. In the much rarer case of forced removal of a “legal” housing unit, compensation is ample and delivered in a timely manner. As Dr. Christopher Gaffney, a visiting professor of urbansim at Rio’s Universidade Federal Fluminense explained to me in a recent interview, “Eduardo Paes has promised to personally deliver monetary compensation to residents with government-honored legal tenure.” In many cases, these residents will emerge with a profit.

The second tie that FIFA and the IOC have to the removals is the desire of both entities to operate within a city which appears clean, non-violent, and poverty-free in international media coverage. This need is almost certainly the rationale for the municipal government’s creation of the aforementioned “security perimeter”, which now serves as the explanation for the removal of Vila Autodromo and countless other comunidades. Even in Atlanta and Vancouver, two Olympic host cities with far lower crime and poverty rates than Rio, security concerns prompted the government’s’ criminalization of poverty and curtailment of human rights as thousands of homeless were driven from the streets in the weeks prior to the Games. In Beijing, a city with a socioeconomic landscape which more closely resembles that of Rio, no less than 800,000 people were reported as having been forcibly evicted during preparations for the 2008 Olympics. It doesn’t take much stretch of the imagination, therefore, to comprehend the scope of mega-event-related evictions that will take place in Rio given the city’s deep-seated global reputation as a hotbed of “squatters”, drug trafficking, and homicide.

No less than 2,800 comunidade evictions have already been reported, most of which have resulted in little - if any - financial compensation for displaced residents. In a city where real estate speculation and an overvalued currency have combined to drive housing prices through the roof, it is difficult to imagine that the maximum reported compensation (roughly US $24,000) will buy an evictee anything short of a cramped tenement incapable of accommodating larger families. Factor in the opportunity cost of missed days at work and moving expenses, and the price of relocation becomes even more out-of-reach for evictees in a city where the minimum wage lags behind the burgeoning real estate market.

In a way, FIFA and the IOC assume the role of a joint, de facto government which encourages Paes’ martial law-style tactics to ensure event revenue and successful legacy marketing. The municipal government - willingly or unwillingly - finds itself at the mercy of these procurators of international sport, lured by the dangling carrot of profit-sharing.