As can be seen, the words differ according to the narrator, who always seems to cast himself in the main supporting role. What has been passed down through history is Dom Pedro’s cry of ‘Independence or Death!’ – present in both Belchior’s and Canto e Melo’s versions – which has come to symbolize the occasion. The cry was repeated by the troops, bestowing on that remote spot the solemnity called for by the occasion. Even if events – witnessed by only thirty-eight people – did not take place precisely as recounted, they immediately became history. The slogan ‘Independence or Death!’ was repeated in triumphal expressions of support as soon as the news arrived in São Paulo and Rio de Janeiro.
Dom Pedro received an effusive homecoming in Rio de Janeiro. The periodical O Espelho reveals how the news gained momentum. On 17 September the periodical informed the public in a simple note that the prince had returned to Rio de Janeiro from his brief five-day trip to São Paulo. However, on 20 September it declared in blazing colours: ‘Independence or Death! This is the cry that unites all Brazilians … Brazil has awoken from its lethargy […] and has resolved, with dignity, to shake off the weight that oppressed her […] Thus the Perpetual Defender of Brazil responds to the outcry of his faithful people who prefer a declared enemy to a treacherous friend …’61
Dom Pedro’s return to Rio de Janeiro had been much faster than usual. Perhaps galvanized by the developments, in just five days he had made a journey that usually took messengers up to nine, arriving at São Cristóvão Palace at dawn on 14 September. The Prince Regent entered soaking wet from the rain, but wearing a green ribbon on his arm (the colour of the Bragança dynasty) above a gold-plated metal plaque engraved with the words ‘Independence or Death’. The blue and white ribbon the Courts had adapted as the new symbol of Portugal had been replaced with a green and yellow one, the new national colours. Whether the yellow represented the yellow flower Domitila had given Dom Pedro, or the House of Habsburg, the reader may choose. The new ribbon became the fashion, as shown in the advertisements in the periodical Volantim, offering yellow and green ribbons and other ‘independence ornaments’: ‘For sale: gold-coloured ribbons with the inscription Independence or Death, available for 12 vinténs at each of the haberdashery stores in the Rua da Quitanda (nº 40, no 84, no 58 and no 10 behind the Asylum) and in the Rua da Cadeia, no 58.’62 The new colours were incorporated into the national flag and Brazil’s coat of arms. They were displayed in the houses of the nobility, on the arms of the elite, and on objects – cups, jugs, mugs, clocks, fans – that were found in every home.63
The celebrations for the acclamation of Brazil’s first emperor, which took place on 12 October, were reminiscent of the festivities that had greeted his father, Dom João, in 1808. Despite the rain, silk quilts were displayed from the windows and the streets were strewn with aromatic leaves. The Campo de Santana, where the ceremony took place, was subsequently renamed the Campo da Aclamação. The festivities included parades, the appearance of the emperor on the palace balcony, a Te Deum at the Imperial Chapel and the hand-kissing ritual, followed by a special performance at the theatre. Popular entertainment included bullfights, dances, drinks, banquets, horse races and pantomimes. Far from insignificant, these activities were political rituals meant to engage people with both the reality of the separation from Portugal, and with Dom Pedro’s new role as emperor. The goal was to make it a memorable occasion, one that would solidify his position.
That times had changed was made abundantly clear by Dom Pedro in the first letter to his father after the declaration of independence on 7 September. Without questioning his father’s role, the prince challenged the authority of the Courts: ‘Rio de Janeiro, September 22, 1822. My father and Lord: I had the honour to receive a letter from Your Majesty dated August 3, in which your Majesty reprehended me for the manner in which I write and speak of the Portuguese-Spanish faction …’ The letter continues in increasingly exalted terms:
We shall reply with two words: We do not want (this) [Não queremos]. If the people of Portugal had the right to a constitutional revolution, it is clear the people of Brazil have twice the right […] Standing by these unassailable principles, I declare […] to this bloodthirsty caliphate that I, as Prince Regent of the Kingdom of Brazil and its Perpetual Defender, declare null and void all the decrees and all else that has been imposed on Brazil by these factious, abhorrent, Machiavellian, chaotic, depraved and pernicious Courts […] From Portugal we want nothing, absolutely nothing […] They are no more than a gang of villainous anti-monarchists and murderers who are holding Your Majesty in the most ignominious captivity. Brazilian independence triumphs and will triumph, or we will die defending it […] First of all they will learn more about the ‘wretched boy’ and his capability, despite not having attended the foreign Courts. […] I remain, with all respect, your Majesty’s loving son and subject who greatly venerates you. – Pedro.64
This was the letter, with its grammatical errors and exalted terms, in which the ‘rascal’ declared his revenge.
And thus, emancipation was complete. An emancipation that was unique among independence in the Americas, which had given birth to republics, not monarchies. The fact is that this emancipation came without radical changes, although it produced rich political commentary – in the form of pamphlets – which is evidence that independence was a question of great interest to society as a whole and that people from all walks of life took part in the debate. The emancipation had placed at the very centre of power not a president, but a king: a Portuguese monarch from the House of Bragança. Perhaps for this reason a sort of ‘Independence legend’ was created, which retells an epic through a series of events profiled and sewn together: the arrival of the royal party, the opening of the ports, Brazil’s status of United Kingdom, the ‘I Stay’, the ‘Abide by’, and finally the declaration of Independence, in 1822. It is a sequence that seems to lead to a foregone conclusion, a series of occurrences flowing inevitably toward the establishment of the Brazilian Empire.
It should be said, however, that this conservative solution was by no means the only possibility. The plan for the empire had triumphed over other more radical projects, including that of a republic. In fact, support from the provinces for the Brazilian Empire did not come as easily as is often told in history books. The process of emancipation was not limited to the years between 1820 and 1822; the foundation of the empire based on the concept of the construction of a single state was a version of events publicized by those involved to express the point of view of the Carioca elite. It is worth mentioning that independence was a by-product of José Bonifácio’s beliefs, either because he meant to curb the popularity of the radical liberals (in other words republicans), or because in his opinion the existence of Brazil pre-dated the provinces, thus Portuguese America was predestined to become a massive empire. In Pernambuco, for example, public opinion had always opposed the idea of a single state, which was seen as unfairly beneficial to Rio de Janeiro.65 Bahia basically waged civil war from late 1822 to mid-June 1823, only joining the union on 2 July of that year, accordingly still celebrated as the date marking the emancipation of the state.
Nevertheless, 7 September is a symbolic date that brought to a culmination the long process of rupture, beginning with the arrival of the Portuguese Court and finally ending with the establishment of a monarchy right in the middle of the Americas. Surrounded by republics, Brazil placed an emperor at the centre of power, to the shock and distrust of its Latin American neighbours. Emancipation was by no means the exclusive work of the quixotic Dom Pedro. It was, rather, the outcome of a series of tensions and arrangements arising from the colonial system and the absolute monarchy, so characteristic of the end of the modern era. As the ancien régime disintegrated, so too did the foundations of mercantile colonialism.
Brazil’s emancipation managed to be both unique and banal. Although liberal, in that it broke with colonial domination, it was also conservative in its maintenance of the monarchy, slavery, and the
dominance of the landowning classes. What is more, though the process of emancipation began with the arrival of the royal court in 1808, the final result was shaped by pressures from both abroad and inside Brazil – not the least of which resulted from transferring the capital from the northeast to the southeast of the country.66 Furthermore, despite the establishment of a new political order, the notion of citizenship remained extremely limited, with the exclusion from all political activity of the vast majority of the population and the equally vast contingent of slaves. As a result, the political institutions were only minimally representative: independence had created a state but not a nation. To develop a culture, to build a society, to engender a sense of nationalism would be left to the First Reign, and especially to the Second.
9
Independence Habemus: Instability in the First Empire
AN EARTHLY EMPIRE: MYSTICAL AND HYBRID SYMBOLS
Brazilian independence gradually became a reality with no turning back, despite the fact that many still questioned the decision to found an empire in the Americas. The maintenance of the monarchy seemed a contradiction in terms. It was hard to imagine a process of emancipation in the region without the establishment of a republic. The decision to create a country with a representative constitutional monarchy had been one choice among many. The chief aim was to avoid the disintegration of the former colony with the unfortunate precedent of Spanish American territory, where four viceroyalties had splintered into fourteen different countries. It also confirmed the domination of the Brazilian elites, most of whom had been educated at Coimbra during the reign of Dom João VI.1
Empire involved the juxtaposition of new and old elements.2 Dom Pedro had the example of two exceptional yet distinct emperors to follow: Napoleon I and Francis II. The first, a French general and self-appointed emperor; the second, Pedro’s powerful father-in-law, who had become the head of the Habsburg Empire. And there was another example in the Americas. The same year, 1822, the Mexican elite, in their struggle to deter Spanish attempts at recolonization and to suppress the republican nationalist movement in the country, had proclaimed a general called Iturbide emperor, with the title of Augustín I. It was a short-lived experiment, but it meant that Brazil was not the only case of a monarchical regime on the republican continent.
All history is multifaceted. For some a ‘Brazilian Empire’ represented a continuation of the centuries-old desire of the Portuguese to increase their dominions, which had started with the reconquest of their Iberian territories from the Muslims. The Reconquest had lasted for seven centuries; from the ninth century onwards it acquired an aura of mysticism and was regarded as a holy war. The wars came to an end in 1492 with the conquest of the last Muslim kingdom. This was immediately followed by the beginning of Portugal’s spectacular imperial expansion which, at its height, stretched from Asia to America.
But Portugal’s progress had also suffered setbacks. One of the most notable cases was that of Dom Sebastião I, the seventh king of the Avis dynasty, who, with the aim of recreating the glories of the past, set out for Morocco on a holy crusade. His defeat at the battle of Alcácer-Quibir in 1578 and subsequent disappearance led to a succession crisis and the creation of the myth surrounding him, called Sebastianismo. He had ruled for only three years, but nonetheless became known as the Hidden or Sleeping King. Later, people associated the political, economic and social decline of the Portuguese Empire with the disappearance of Dom Sebastião, who, it was speculated, would return in the future to redeem the country. Years later, in the seventeenth century, Padre Vieira in his ‘History of the Future’ announced that the Portuguese Empire should be situated in Brazil: a palace could be situated there, where the fifth empire could take advantage of all four seasons of the year.
Thus the notion of empire had many shades of meaning, more or less strategic, more or less ancient or miraculous. At all events, the empire created in the nineteenth century represented the unmistakable arrival of a new era, foreseen in verse and prose since the times of Dom Sebastião, when Portuguese power was at its height, but the shadow of decline was already perceptible. There are other conceptions associated with the idea of empire. ‘Empire’ signified the expansion of a cause, with a notably political connotation. In Brazil the notion of empire3 was associated with a large extension of land within a single territory.4 José Bonifácio saw further associations: a statesman and one of the most important agents of Brazilian independence, he claimed that, in Brazil, use of the word stemmed from the Festival of the Holy Spirit, during which, even today, an emperor – generally a young boy – is chosen by the public.
Drawing on this potent combination of various mythologies, ‘empire’ was the most convincing political expression for a country of continental proportions – and monarchy emerged as the best (available) means to prevent political and territorial fragmentation. In the view of the local elites, only the figure of a king could unite this gigantic country with its deep internal divisions. But the new monarch was still Portuguese, and the symbols of the monarchy were still those of the fatherland. The royal family’s colours and coat of arms remained on the Brazilian flag, and the wyvern that represented the power of the Braganças was still depicted on the sceptre. Against a backdrop of caution and distrust – both internal and from abroad – great importance was given to the ceremonial aspects of the new Brazilian court after the declaration of independence in 1822. Dom Pedro was acclaimed emperor on 12 October the same year – a date that was initially held to be more important than 7 September. There is a Portuguese expression that says ‘A rainy wedding, a happy marriage’, and the wedding of the emperor to the Brazilian nation, to judge from the pouring rain that nearly ruined the acclamation ceremony, was a case in point.
To mark the date and the continuity of the royal dynasty, in an act laden with symbolism, as soon as the storm passed, Dom Pedro and Dona Leopoldina came onto the balcony of the stately house in the Campo de Santana – the scene of so many celebrations during the reign of Dom João VI – and held up their baby daughter Dona Maria da Glória for the crowd to see, symbolizing the continuity of the empire and of the Bragança dynasty. For the people, who were unaccustomed to such rituals, a gallant prince, with his heir to the throne and his princess at his side, ignited the imagination more than any political theory could.
Changes quickly followed, above all in emblems and symbols: a sort of new calling card for a new regime. On 10 November the diplomatic corps were informed that a new green and yellow national flag had been adopted in Brazil. The green background represented the House of Bragança, while the yellow diamond superimposed on the green symbolized the Lorena House, used by the Austrian imperial family. The diamond shape was a barely hidden and awkward tribute to Napoleon, although the monarchic coat of arms in the middle of the diamond emerged from an array of Brazilian plants. This reconstruction was typical of the cultural process in Brazil: the traditional elements of European heraldry coupled with a precise tribute to the monarchs of the young nation represented the new national reality.
The coronation took place on 1 December, the anniversary of the start of the Portuguese revolution of 1640, which led to the end of the Iberian Union and the beginning of the reign of the House of Bragança. Once again the ceremony linked the new independent monarchy to the deposed one, which was now observing events from Portugal. The ritual had to be memorable, and to this end it combined elements of Napoleon’s coronation in Notre Dame and the coronation of the emperors of the Holy Roman Empire in Frankfurt, in a unique marriage of the traditional and the modern. It also incorporated an element from royal coronations in Hungary, swiping the air with a sword, in an allusion to Dom Pedro’s title of ‘Perpetual Defender of Brazil’ – his first popular investiture, which had now become a reality. To further enthrall the public, the emperor wore a green silk tunic, riding boots and spurs, and was swathed in a mantle made of green velvet, lined with yellow silk and embroidered with stars and gold braid. The symbolism was evident, combi
ning traditional elements with the new symbols of the land. This attention to detail was also apparent in the imperial cloak, which was made of toucan feathers, the work of indigenous craftsmen and supposedly a tribute to Indian chiefs.
To complete the ceremony the new emperor received the sacred anointment legitimizing him as king in the eyes of the sovereigns of Europe as well as in the eyes of his people. With his desire to break from Portuguese tradition, on the one hand, and influenced by Napoleon’s coronation in 1804 on the other, Dom Pedro personally oversaw the arrangements for the religious ceremony, which was based on the first book of the ancient Roman Pontifical.5 This document established that the sovereign should be anointed and consecrated with holy oil during the performance of Mass, a custom that had been long abolished in Portugal. From then on the imperial culture was created based on two aspects of the fledgling nation: the monarchical state, determined to civilize the nation; and the vast territorial extension the state claimed as its own.6
One of the best examples of this imperial culture is a project undertaken by the French artist Jean-Baptiste Debret. He had arrived from France in 1816 and was now virtually an official court artist. During the reign of Dom João he had been responsible for most of the official depictions of the court. In 1822 he was instructed to create an allegory for the stage curtain in the royal theatre – the Teatro São João – where Dom Pedro I would give his inauguration speech and then watch a presentation commemorating his coronation as the first emperor of Brazil. Debret was a neoclassical artist and a relative of Jacques-Louis David, with whom he had worked in his Paris atelier. David had been the artist of the Revolution and had gone on to work for Napoleon as his principal painter. In Brazil, Debret may have found it difficult to transfer the civic virtues of revolutionary France to the slave-based economy and monarchical system of Brazil.
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