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LITERARY | Brazil: Funk and Controversy in Rio

 

MC Leonardo in the offices of APAFUNK, in downtown Rio de Janeiro.

 

 

November 2024 / January 2011  |  Humanitarian Bazaar Magazine

Written by Samantha Barthelemy, photos by Guilherme Lessa

Originally published in Humanitarian Bazaar (aka HELO Magazine) in 2011.

 

 


 

 

“Funk still hasn’t happened. When I was a child nobody listened to funk inside the slums. Nowadays it is the main soundtrack. Today’s children will make funk happen. In a country as diverse as Brazil, with things like capoeira and maxixe, we need to bring together different ideas into funk. We want to unite funk and hip-hop, giving funk a little bit more of the ‘conscience’ that hip-hop has,” says MC Leonardo.

 

For artists like Leonardo, founder and president of APAFUNK, the Association of Friends and Professionals of Funk, and one of the genre’s staunchest defenders, funk is the most Brazilian rhythm of all, combining popular beats like samba, forró, baião,jongo and candomblé. “It is the most democratic form of musical expression. Anyone can get a microphone and sing what they see and feel,” he says. “That is funk.”

 

On December 15 and 16, 2011, policemen from Rio de Janeiro’s Computer Crime Unit (DRCI) arrested six of Leonardo’s peers on charges of inciting violence through music. Authorities accused Wallace Ferreira da Mota (MC Smith), Frank Batista Ramos (MC Frank), Fabrício Baptista Ramos (MC Ticão), Max Muller da Paizão Pessanha (MC Max), Anderson Romualdo Paulino da Silva (MC Didô) and Everaldo de Almeida da Silva (MC Galo). What do these six men have in common? Like Leonardo, they are singers of the notorious funk proibidão (forbidden funk).

 

According to DRCI officials involved in the investigation, led by Helen Sardenberg, the men used their lyrics to glorify and instigate crime and violence – apologia ao tráficois a crime under Brazilian law – and to do the marketing for drug traffickers. The MCs were also charged with being associated with drug gangs and their trafficking activities.

 

Sardenberg stated, “After a one year investigation, the police were able to prove that these MCs really sing the voice of traffic in narcotics. They do this in the interest of gaining popularity. A video made by at FB’s [Fabiano Atanásio, leader of the Comando Vermelho gang] birthday and posted on YouTube got over 400,000 views,” she added. “This demonstrates the power these MCs have over today’s youth.” For Sardenberg, the MCs ridicule police work.

 

“Grosso Calibre,” the short film by Thiago Vieira, Ludmila Curi, and Guilherme Arruda which helped tip the case against MC Smith.

 

The Evolution of Funk Carioca [1]

 

To understand the phenomenon of funk carioca, the funk music scene of Rio de Janeiro, and how it led Rio’s prosecutor to call for the arrest of Leonardo’s peers, photographer Guilherme Lessa and I returned to our native city and took a closer look at the hard realities of life in Rio’s 1,000-odd favelas (slums).

 

As I drove around hours of Rio traffic, I realized the funk story was much more complex than the little that was being portrayed. It bothered me that national media did not want to “touch” the case, even though it revolved around our cherished freedom of expression. Nobody wanted to talk about it, or when they did, seemed to dismiss it as “another problem of the slums.”

 

I initially thought my article would be about the arrest of the MCs and the prejudice against forbidden funk. It did not take me long to understand the story was much bigger and delicate. By staying silent, were we permitting Rio’s government to err in its crackdown of violence and criminalize poverty? Was proibidão being punished for a crime or because it represents the poorest sectors of society? What is and who defines incitement to crime and violence? What is drug trafficker ideology? Were we really accusing these singers of doing PR for drug traffickers?

 

The musical genre of funk carioca emerged in the 1970s in the black, soul, shaft and American and European funk parties in Rio and was continuously influenced by legends like James Brown, the rhythms of black music, American rap, Miami Bass and Freestyle and the cultural manifestations from Rio’s slums and peripheries. It wasn’t until the 1990s that the genre started to develop its own identity, becoming an ever more popular rhythm, leading to an explosion in the number of bailes funk (parties where funk is played/sung).

 

As styles like awareness funk, neurotic funk, and melody funk gained popularity, so did the notorious proibidão, with lyrics praising drug trafficking gangs and weapons, provoking rival groups and incorporating erotic, or plainly vulgar sexual language denigrating to women. Through its often aggressive lyrics, forbidden funk depicted life in communities where residents cohabit with drug traffickers, the police and frequent episodes of violence.

 

Prohibiting Funk

 

Even though funk is sung and absorbed mostly by residents of the slums and peripheries of Rio de Janeiro, habitants of the affluent Zona Sul (South Zone) have repeatedly embraced and repealed the beat. In Rio’s most expensive nightclubs funk nights are the most animated. In the most glamorous events  DJs will play funk. Its sometimes vulgar vocabulary, like cachorra (female dog or bitch), popozuda (woman with a large behind) and tigrão (“big tiger”) has been incorporated into the cariocaslang.

 

Throughout its two decades of existence – the official beginning of funk carioca is marked by the 1989 launch of the disk “Funk Brasil” – funk received praise and criticism while gaining visibility in metropolises like São Paulo, Salvador and Belo Horizonte and international recognition in songs like M.I.A.’s 2005 “Bucky Done Gun” and MCs Leonardo and Júnior’s 1993 “Rap das Armas,” a favorite in NYC clubs.

 

As of 1996, popular funk parties in glamorous neighborhoods like Copacabana and Ipanema started to be shut down, forbidden in the most privileged areas of Rio and thrown back into the slums, where the law is rarely regarded and control falls in the hands of drug traffickers and militias set up by rogue police and firemen.

 

Funk, and its Alleged Role in Gang Violence

 

MC Leonardo claims government authorities started persecuting funk and its artists because of the bailes de corredor (corridor parties), funk parties where participants would split into sides A and B to engage in gratuitous fighting and whoever was unlucky enough to be caught in the middle would be pulled to the rival side and receive a strong beating. For Leonardo, because of the stigma attached to the corridor parties every funk party was tagged as a hub of violence.

 

“The government’s solution to the fighting was simply to end with the parties. This is what the state gave us as a solution to everything,” he says. “This further divided the movement into ‘good’ and ‘evil’ funk. Instead of demanding public policies to deal with the problem we allowed [the state] to end with the parties.”

 

“This is the same thing they are trying to do today,” adds Leonardo. “With the prohibition of bailes, the parties ended up in the slums, thrown on the laps of drug traffickers. And they are not going to respect resolutions. They don’t know whether something is or isn’t a law. They want to sell their drugs and expose their weapons, gold and women and they cannot get out of the community. So where are they going to do that? In the funk party.”

 

Leonardo reminds us that, “In the slum you won’t find a drug store with a legal functioning permit. The same will happen with the venue for the funk party. Drug traffickers can finance these parties, but they are not exclusively nor solely financed by drug traffickers. Groups of friends and association of residents also get together to promote them,” he says.

 

The MCs Cope with Arrest, Release, and Controversy

 

During my first interview with MC Leonardo, on December 22, 2010, I had to divide his attention with his noisy Nextel. Even while participating in a public debate about the language of funk on December 23, Leonardo would not let go of his phone. Early on December 24, he still waited impatiently for the “beep.” On this day, the ring could signal that his colleagues, MCs Smith, Frank, Ticão, Max, Didô and Galo would spend Christmas Eve with their families.

 

On December 23, Guilherme and I followed MC Leonardo to the Vilar dos Teles Police Station, where the MCs were being held. In a brief conversation with them, MC Galo told us, “An MC doesn’t shoot anyone. He doesn’t kill anyone. He’s telling you want happens. When I arrived here the police chief asked me ‘Are you a fan of Nem [the drug gang boss in Rocinha]? Do you have a link with Nem?’ the police here asked me. ‘I know all of them, we were all brought up together, but what they do I don’t do,’ I told them.”

 

“The [police] said I was a fugitive,” Galo added. “How am I a fugitive if I sing all the time at Circo Voador and Barra Shopping [Brazil’s largest mall] and nobody came to get me? What type of fugitive is that? I asked them these same questions and they didn’t know what to answer,” he said. “I was stopped at a police checkpoint and brought in because of past criminal charges. They searched my name online and found out that I sang forbidden funk in the past. I am the number one singer in my slum. The guys came and said ‘I want Galo to sing.’ Are you going to tell them ‘no?’”

 

MC Smith admitted that considering Rio’s political moment he was not surprised to have been arrested. “I live in a community that was taken by the state, in one of the most dangerous states in the world. A community where the rates of violence, criminality and prostitution are high,” he added. “So I am going to sing what I see and what I think, and this is freedom of expression.”

 

Even though we were interrupted and asked to delete any records of our interview by the officers who had initially cleared our entrance, Alexandra Lippman, a PhD student who was accompanying us, was able to save a recording of the MCs’ Liberdade(Freedom) funk, composed and sung in jail.

 

The following day Leonardo received the news. Responding to a writ of habeas corpus Ari Pargendler, Brazil’s Supreme Chief of Justice, annulled by injunction the MCs’ prison sentences, arguing that according to the nature of the crimes of which they were being accused, they could only be incarcerated for a period of five days – and not thirty days as decreed by the police.

 

In a statement by the Human Rights Defense Group (DDH) which also took the MCs’ defense, the police investigation “[Was] basically made up of documents taken from the Internet, […] songs which have been re-contextualized by the chief of police. […] The whole crackdown and investigation only demonstrate there are two justices regarding freedom of speech in Rio. Just for memory’s sake, on the week of the arrests Rio’s governor openly defended abortion and gambling, both crimes according to the law. Therefore if we follow the reasoning that led to the arrests the governor should be behind bars as well.

 

The accusation of inciting gang violence is extremely subjective and can cover just about any kind of behavior in the slums, given the interpretation that Rio’s courts have. According to chief of police in charge of investigations the defendants convey in their lyrics criminal ideology and therefore are associated to the gangs. But what exactly is trafficker ideology? Can one actually claim that it exists? A major newspaper said that the MCs use gold chains like the ones used by traffickers. Since when is wearing a gold chain a crime? There is a blatant criminalization of any cultural or social manifestation coming from the lower classes.”

 

“They will not shut us up,” says MC Leonardo. “They arrested the six MCs accusing them of incitement to crime and violence, association to drug trafficking and gang formation. And all of that based on their songs. This is very dangerous,” adds Leonardo. “APAFUNK doesn’t agree with what they are singing, but we are defending their right to sing it.” No other charges have been brought against the MCs other than the content of their lyrics. If it happens, Leonardo admits APAFUNK would no longer defend the six men, but would continue fighting for the movement.

 

“Do drugs need marketing?” asks MC Leonardo. “The biggest marketing for drug traffickers is in their prohibition. Not funk. MC Didô is in prison for singing ‘UPP sai, sai, sai do Borel’ (UPP out, out, out of Borel), in reference to the Police Pacifying Unit installed in the Borel slum, where he lives,” explains MC Leonardo. “Why can’t he sing this? ‘UPP’ is the acronym of a public policy. He can be against it. He can write a song saying ‘Out UPP/I don’t want UPP,’” he adds.

 

“It is not just Padilha (director of ‘Elite Squad’ and ‘Elite Squad 2’) who doesn’t even live in the slum, who can tell the realities of slum life. The kid in the slum has no education. He is going to tell his story in the crudest possible form, with his ‘s’ and ‘r’ missing. And people are consuming this,” states MC Leonardo. “We have to make people consume different things, but this will only happen when these peoples’ realities are different. These kids aren’t lying in their lyrics [and] they are using funk as a vehicle for communication, trusting in the freedom of expression guaranteed in the Constitution. Somebody needs to be shocked by our reality. [These kids] are not doing it in the way I wish they would do it, but they have the right to do it.”

 

Rio’s Turning Point on Gang Violence

 

Brazil’s Marvelous City is notorious for its high rates of crime, largely fueled by the unrivaled growth of drug trafficking in its slums and earning it the title of one of the world’s murder capitals. According to government figures, there were 4,631 homicides in the metropolitan area in 2008. That is nearly 13 people a day.

 

For decades, slums grew without official planning and oversight and under the control of three rival drug gangs, Comando Vermelho (Red Command), Terceiro Comando(Third Command) and Amigos dos Amigos (Friends of Friends) and militias. These groups repeatedly spread terror through Rio’s slums and asphalt[2], in episodes like the police helicopter shoot-down, in October 2009, and the taking of thirty hostages in Rio’s luxury Intercontinental Hotel, in August 2010.

 

But now it is different, authorities claim. Rio is under the spotlight, nationally and internationally. In two years, it will host the Rio+20 Earth Summit, then the 2014 World Cup Final followed by the 2016 Summer Olympics. Since winning the Olympic bid on October 2009, federal and state governments committed to address one of the Olympics Committee main concerns, Rio de Janeiro’s security dilemma.

 

“Rio is, supposedly, going through this ‘new moment.’ But we have to understand that the slums were left outside of all issues of legality for decades, not simply with regards to security. If the state goes in now and criminalizes everything and everyone who could potentially be ‘associated’ with drug traffickers, we are going to witness the criminalization of poverty, in mass,” warns Leonardo. “And funk is in the middle of this. It is the most valuable thing the slums possess. It is where we talk and people are going to hear us all over the world.”

 

The Funk Phenomenon

 

“What is funk?” asks MC Leonardo. “An inexpensive form of entertainment for a population that cannot live in an expensive city like Rio. We know what Rio’s youth wants. They want funk, and have been saying that for a long time.”

 

A study by Fundação Getúlio Vargas (FGV), revealed funk generates around R$10 million (approximately US$6 million) every month in Rio state. For Marcelo Simas, a participant in the research, funk is a market for jobs and economic production. The MCs, authors and singers of funk receive the largest chunk, with an average of 35,2 presentations and receiving R$4,140 monthly. Soundsystem teams promote an average of 878 bailes throughout the state every month, bringing together nearly one million people per weekend.

 

“And all of this happened without help from the state,” says Leonardo. “The only secretariat that dealt with [funk] was that of public security. Funk wasn’t recognized as a cultural movement until the 1st of September 2009, and that because APAFUNK fought for it.”

 

In 1993, MC Leonardo worked in a newsstand in Rocinha and saw, every day, different types of weapons. “Rap das Armas” (Weapons’ Rap), the tune now danced to in clubs worldwide, was initially written to glorify the breathtaking view of Rio from the top of Rocinha. Leonardo and his brother, MC Júnior then added the names of the weapons to the beat, some of which they had never even seen. “This wasn’t about glorifying these guns, but exposing the quotidian of the slum dweller, who even working in a newsstand lives side-by-side with heavy caliber weapons,” states Leonardo.

 

“For many years funk has been crying for help,” said DJ and producer Sany Pitbull during the December 23 public debate. “Every intellectual clapped to ‘Rap da Felicidade’ (Happiness Rap). But in 1994, Cidinho and Doca, its authors, were asking for help, ‘I just want to be happy/Walking with tranquility in the slum where I was born/And be proud that the poor man has his place.’ People say this song was a poem,” added Pitbull. “It wasn’t. Funk has been crying for help for a long time.”

 

“Funk has been abandoned since forever,” he said. “Just like the slums. If today the kid is saying the police isn’t worth anything, that he is going to shoot policemen and explode their armored car, it is because he is angry and he sees policemen as enemies. How can a government that never gave love to a child, demand that when he becomes an adult he returns something he doesn’t know?

 

He was beaten up all of his life and he is going to sing and express himself. Then we call it a crime,” he added. “Caetano Veloso can do it and Titãs can sing “Police go fuck yourself.’ When it is a kid from the slum, he can’t. Funk doesn’t incite violence. It sings and relates. The words are heavy, yes. But they are heavy for whoever is standing outside and doesn’t believe that that is the reality in there.”

 

A Long Story of Prejudice

 

“Worse than calling someone black or slum-dweller is calling him funkeiro (singer or listener of funk),” says MC Leonardo. “Why do we prohibit funk? Because funk is a continuation of the rhythms of the slave quarters. The slums are the slave quarters to the big house that is Rio. [And] drug trafficking in Rio has been treated as a rat’s nest in a luxury mansion. Rio is a mansion and for the rat not to come in we allowed it to grow in the slums,” he adds.

 

Whether we appreciate funk or not, Leonardo and his supporters affirm the genre is entrenched in the culture of Rio de Janeiro. For them, funk’s biggest sin, besides exposing violent and vulgar lyrics, is representing the main form of entertainment for the poorest and most neglected sectors of society, comprised mainly of afro descendent slum dwellers. But prejudice doesn’t just come from the outside. “The funkeiro who says he is a part of the ‘good funk’ is himself guilty of creating an idea of ‘evil funk,’” affirms Leonardo.

 

Debating the Language of Funk

 

On December 23, 2010, filmmaker and director of “Favela on Blast” Leandro HBL and Sany Pitbull invited MC Leonardo for an open debate on the language of funk. Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, the room was two-thirds empty. Together with Bruno Faria from O Globo, Guilherme and I were the only media representatives. The speakers claimed to “understand the reluctance in getting involved with the issue of ‘incitement to crime and violence’ at such a delicate time.”

 

“Freedom of expression [and democracy were] harshly scarred,” stated HBL. “We have to be very careful with this, independently of whether or not we defend the freedom of the six MCs.” HBL reminded participants that Helen Sardenberg claimed the lyrics of the six MCs “make” young children join drug trafficking activities. “She has to prove what she said,” he added. “This attitude is completely out of proportions for a public figure whose duty is to represent us.”

 

“In ‘Favela on Blast,’ every child interviewed sings a proibidão. But when you see a cute child singing, you don’t realize what it is,” said HBL. “When born in the slum, the kid doesn’t know the state. He knows soccer, samba and the drug trafficker who is the leader of the community. He may be more or less charismatic, but he is the protector of that community. Children take pride in singing their slum’s forbidden funk, not because they will become drug dealers, but because it creates a sense of identity and belonging.”

 

For Pitbull, “Before pointing fingers we need to look at ourselves and improve the image of funk. I invited hundreds of funk professionals to attend the debate and they are not here. […] We have to do our part so that they don’t have any argument against us. We give them arguments. What are we doing to change what the media is portraying about funk? Nothing,” he added.

 

“I travel all over the world and foreigners are no longer recognizing Rio for its sambabut for funk,” told Pitbull. “And you can be sure that come the 2016 Olympics, tourists will want to see funkeiros and bailes. Whether they will be able to do that is up to us.”

 

Renato Barreiros, sub-mayor of Cidade Tiradentes, in São Paulo, argued that instead of prohibiting the genre, the state can foment in positively, the same way drug traffickers have fomented it negatively. “Society needs to ask questions like: Where is the money? The government pays R$100,000 to the maestro of the symphonic orchestra. How much is it spending with funk? Why is the maestro worth more than an entire movement? Money exists,” Barreiro added. “We have to ask ‘Why them and not us? Is it because we are in the slums?’”

 

Adair Rocha, regional representative of the Ministry of Culture and only public figure to attend the debate, openly expressed his satisfaction. “We are touching upon the deepest relationship of cause and symptom,” Rocha said. “We treat the symptoms and refuse to look at the roots of the problem, the immense inequality, discrimination and prejudice throughout the past decades that forced this city to have different public policies for different neighborhoods. We say ‘everybody has the same rights,’ but we know not everybody has access to these rights. This is not just a problem of the funk movement and if we do not act now, were are reinforcing discriminatory and prejudicial views.”

 

For Mateus Aragão, from Circo Voador, a favorite party venue among tourists, and promoter of “I Love Baile Funk” parties, “The political situation is very delicate. We are living in a new pact with the security forces. Nobody wants to be the first one to break that pact,” Aragão said. “But now the climate is of war where the MCs are the enemies and represent the culture of the enemy. That is very dangerous. This is delicate and people are scared of getting involved. I’m scared.”

 

“But we cannot allow this sensationalism to persist,” he added. “Prohibiting everything won’t cure Rio. The public power cannot take advantage of artists to promote itself. We have to look at the liberty and the culture of the slum dweller. Funk is the spirit of the slum youth, and we cannot break that and harm what could be such a beautiful moment for Rio.”

 

For Toni Garrido, lead singer of Raça Negra, “It’s very difficult to understand what is freedom of expression in recounting one’s reality and what is incitement to crime and violence. The black, poor, with less political force are being massacred. I can’t think that if Caetano Veloso sang these same things he would be arrested,” he said. “Does it mean that if you criticize the state today you will be persecuted and arrested? If you criticize it in a ‘pop’ manner, it’s okay, but if you criticize it in a real and personal manner, you are persecuted?”

 

“I don’t like proibidão,”  admitted Garrido. “It portrays a bad, illegal thing. But portraying illegality doesn’t mean being illegal. You are denouncing it. I don’t like polka, but I believe people have the right to play it. I am here for the freedom of expression. I see many problems that emerged with proibidão, but I don’t believe those that are bringing it forward are committing a crime.”

 

The Future of the Movement

 

In a public letter Leandro HBL wrote, “Most of the arrested funk rappers [are] in their 20s or under, which generally implies a lifetime under the boot and rule of gun law, having to obey gang leaders who more than often exult wealth and power, the most beautiful women, and more importantly replace the state by showing the only support and charity (i.e distributing medicine, paying hospital bills, school material, etc…) most slum residents will ever see.”

 

“The way to get rid of the forbidden funks is not by putting rappers behind bars, but by tightening the bonds between the authorities and the funk movement, recognizing funk as a genuine and mainstream cultural heritage and putting an end to the warlords that control the communities, whether militias or drug gangs.”

 

“If funk talks and walks alone it won’t get very far. We need all of society with us. We pay taxes just like people outside of the slums, but up to this day, only the secretariat of public security has been spending money with us,” repeats MC Leonardo.

 

Leonardo asks for more than recognition for funk. He wants its millions of followers to enjoy funk in dignity and safety and the promotion of bailes funk within legal parameters. “Let’s negotiate volume control and a decent ending time,” says Leonardo. “Let’s do everything according to the law. Let’s assist the hundreds of funk MCs, DJs and soundsystem teams in the slum and provide them decent alternatives to the monopolies controlling the industry.”

 

“A soundsystem team charges R$3,000 per show (approximately US$1,795). Why would we need drug trafficking?” Leonardo asks. “Take away drug trafficking from the slums and allow people to work in dignity.” If the state bans funk and makes it illegal once again, Leonardo warns, the movement will be forced to find new, illegal, sponsors.

 

For Leonardo the moment is about fighting for the survival of the movement and guaranteeing the MCs’ arrest will not divide funk once again. “If they divide us now, into ‘good’ and ‘evil’ funk, it will be easier to shut us up,” he says.

 

In APAFUNK’s manifesto for the freedom of funk Leonardo states, “It is not by oppressing the youth and censoring art that our problems will cease to exist. If we want to listen to pretty little songs we need build a better and fairer society.”

 

Debate on December 23. From right to left, MC Leonardo, Leandro HBL, Sany Pitbull and Renato Barreiros.

 


[1] Adjective to denote “of Rio de Janeiro City.”

[2] Term to denote “of the streets” as opposed to “off the hillsides” where are located most of Rio de Janeiro’s slums.

 

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