No real reform process, no end in sight and no hope for the future in the midst of Brazil’s continued political despair.

In April of 2016 we expressed hope that some kind of philosopher king might emerge from the mess that is Brazilian politics. This enlightened individual would undertake the Herculean tasks of reforming a public pension system pushing the country into bankruptcy, a labour code that all but actively encourages firms not to employ more workers, a tax system that not even the country’s federal treasury understands and, being optimistic, an electoral system that in practical terms leaves deputies and senators not only unaccountable to the electorate, but also nearly immune to criminal prosecution.

Although a conniving and manipulating politician well versed in the dark arts of self-serving legal interpretation and legislative meanders, we thought, just maybe, that Michel Temer would at least get the reform process going and do something good for the country. In our most optimistic moments we dreamed that he would put the difficult legislation to congress and perhaps fall on his sword by letting the lava jato (car wash) corruption investigation run its natural, juridical course.

Our dreams have not come true. Rather, our nightmares now appear to be reality.

The formal criminal accusations against President Temer that federal prosecutors have put forward in the wake of the JBS meat-packing scandal in May, followed by leaks from the federal judiciary that same month, make it increasingly apparent that Temer has actively sought to suborn Brazil’s legal system. Indeed, Temer has become the first president in Brazilian history to be directly accused of a non-political crime: corruption and obstruction of justice.

With a successful impeachment process seeming an almost foregone conclusion in the Chamber of Deputies’ Constitution and Justice Commission (CCJ), Temer fought back in the best tradition of contemporary Brazilian politics. In short order, he dished out BRL$15,3 billion (AUD$6 billion) in resources to congressmen to buy political support and block the authorisation of investigations against him. More than half of the financing for the pet projects of individual congressmen in 2017 was released by Planalto Palace during on the eve of the CCJ vote that decided Temer’s political destiny.

Although the tactic of trying to buy parliamentary support during a crisis is not new, the embedded moral turpitude of this act reached new heights because it took place within the context of a growing public deficit (BRL$159 billion for 2017 and 2018, compared to BRL$129 and $139, respectively) that has seen a substantial decrease in government revenues as well as a slashing of budgetary allocations for the social programs needed by Brazil’s legion of the poor.

Incredibly, the nightmare gets worse. Temer’s profligacy not only worked to perpetuate the clientilistic traditions afflicting Brazilian congressional politics, but also recast the non-representative aspects of electoral politics in a fresh foundations. Looking forward to the 2018 general election, Temer’s bout of vote buying has provided the fuel necessary to underwrite the re-election campaigns of at least 200 deputies, including many of the worst protagonists in the ongoing saga of political corruption.

Bluntly put, it no longer matters who will succeed Temer as president—he is banned from running again due to electoral law violations in 2014—because congressional vote buying over the last several months has retrenched the status quo of Brazilian politics.

Following Temer’s purchase of a last gasp salvation for his presidency, the Chamber of Deputies began discussing a fast-tracked political reform that would see the current proportional voting system replaced by a minimally reformist majoritarian single district format, privileging deputies currently in Congress. Moreover, the political reform package would call for a public electoral fund of BRL$ 3.6 billion (AUD$1.4 billion), 0.5 per cent of the net government annual revenues, to replace the now banned practice of private campaign contributions.

The dream of a whole new game is being vanquished step-by-step and replaced by a political class that wants (and needs) to protect itself from a series of (almost daily) accusations of corruption among other related crimes. This lack of leadership creates a critical problem for Brazil.

Brazil has almost everything it needs to be an important economic engine not just for the region, but the world. Right now, the problem in Brazil has nothing to do with the innate capacity of the country. The people are wonderful, the technical ability of the universities competent, and the strength of the companies remarkable despite the rolling corruption allegations.

The missing element is a political class who understand that public service is very distinct from self-service. What makes matters even more concerning is that party structures and embedded private interests across the country make it all but impossible for new, innovative, clean voices to enter the game. In part, this explains why the next generation that took the streets in June 2013 has simply disengaged from the formal process.

The House of Cards twitter account started off the day on 18 May this year with a comment for Brazilians: “It is difficult to compete”. For politicians, the most advantageous strategy is staying with Temer, silently reforming the system to avoid competition, loosen representation and, if possible, suffocate the car wash corruption investigations.

Shuffling the deck in Brazil, as Temer and his cronies tried to do with Dilma’s impeachment last year, is no longer enough. A return to Lula, who himself has been convicted of passive corruption and recently lauded Senator Renan Calheiros (himself convicted on corruption charges), would likely resolve nothing of substance. At a minimum, a new deck of political figures is needed. The question now is who can step forward to drive this process and whether they will be able to withstand the sort of scrutiny that comes with volunteering for public service.

What Brazil needs to find is not only a moralistic approach to corruption congruent with cultural norms and understandings, but also a new approach to politics that focuses on active and dynamic representation. A public debate involving all sectors of society on the proper role of the state in national development is desperately needed, not a return to the historic tutelary perspective advanced by the Lulas of the left and Temers of the right alike.

The fallacy of a “union government” proposed by Temer should be transformed into an actual debate about a platform of reforms that would not penalise the poor, that would create minimum conditions of republican governability and that would call the citizenship to participate in public affairs.

Everyone is losing in this game. Everyone. No one is coming out as a winner.

After Lula won his first presidential election he declared that “this time, hope won against fear”. The nightmare now in Brazil seems to be that despair is smothering hope for the future.

Dr Fabricio Chagas-Bastos is a research fellow in politics and psychology with the University of São Paulo and research associate of the Australian National Centre for Latin American Studies at ANU.

Dr Sean Burges is deputy director of the Australian National Centre for Latin American Studies at ANU and a visiting professor at Carleton University, Canada. He is also a senior research fellow with the Washington DC-based Council on Hemispheric Affairs.

This article is published under a Creative Commons Licence and may be republished with attribution.