Pichação in São Paulo

An articlein the New York Times about graffiti in São Paulo offers an interesting twist to Kelling and Wilson's broken windows theory of crime. 

Laid out in a 1982 Atlantic Monthly article, and later in a book by Kelling and Coles (1998), the broken windows theory is, simply, that disorder and crime are inherently linked. That is, vandalism and anti-social behavior will lead to further vandalism, which will most likely lead to an escalation in crime. A building with one broken window will inevitably end up with all its windows broken--as Kelling and Wilson explain, "one unrepaired broken window is a signal that no one cares, and so breaking more windows costs nothing." Areas with abandoned buildings, graffiti, broken windows, homeless sleeping on the streets, beggars, etc. are more like to attract crime due to disorder--crime rises where people aren't confident that informal controls will maintain public order. Though widely criticized by criminologists for confusing correlation with causation, the broken windows theory was a cornerstone of William Bratton's various zero-tolerance crime control policies, including Rudy Giuliani's reforms in New York other projects across Latin America. 

The article describes how gangs of angry Paulistas (citizens of São Paulo) are using a specific kind of graffiti, called pichação (from the verb "pichar," to cover with tar), to protest social and economic inequality in Brazil. Well, something like that. In the article, Djan Ivson Silva, a leader of a pichação gang, claims their work is meant "'to remind society that this city is a visual aggression to begin with, and hostile to anyone who is not rich.'" Here, vandals explicitly target areas outside the normal realm of "broken windows" for their vandalism, emerging from the marginal neighborhoods where graffiti is (presumably) already a set practice to paint politically charged symbols on skyscrapers and public monuments (I use the term marginal in English in the sociological sense of exclusion rather than the more loaded term "marginal" in Portuguese that carries with it racist and elitist connotations). The vandalism is overtly political rather than insidiously political, proclaiming its disorder in orderly places rather than, as Kelling and Wilson describe, becoming political by gradually attracting more vandalism and crime. (note: I'm sure that a quick google search would turn up quite a few articles on how pichação breeds crime.)

The photo on the left, taken from a Brazilian newspaper article on pichação, is an example of the rune-like graffiti. The words underneath says, roughly, "In a country full corruption, who has the right to criticize pinchação!"

The article also makes it seem like these gangs are not only in it for the political statement, but also for the pure competition of it. Gangs fight for the most coveted canvases for their art (that is, the tallest buildings, the most prominent public spaces), even to the point of death. It seems, in some sense, like the work of Project Mayhem--angry young men desecrating public property to prove themselves to each other and to prove that they are in on the joke, that they know what's happening and it doesn't matter what we think. It's not a perfect metaphorical fit. The men of Project Mayhem do come from the same lives as the pichação gangs, from the streets of the favelas and the poorest neighborhoods, for one (although they think they have as much grievance against society). But the parallel is there, and for me, its an interesting one.

Maras and Organized Crime

I just had an interesting conversation with a colleague about crime and justice in Central America (a topic which comes up a lot in conversation for me, unsurprisingly). One of the points my conversation partner brought up was the shift of focus in the international media away from the issue of youth gangs and towards drug trafficking, specifically when talking about Guatemala. She noted that in the past, the focus of reports on violence in Guatemala tended to lay the blame on the maras--the image of all that was wrong was the tattooed face of a teenage gangster. More recent coverage has to do more with the threat of organized crime and drug trafficking, especially the Zetas and the Sinaloa cartel. I think this has a lot to do with shifting international priorities in the region and the bloody drug war in Mexico. Drug gangs have replaced street gangs in the media as the ones who decapitate rivals and commit atrocious acts of violence. The maras and the drug cartels are, of course, intimately connected in many ways. Just as I was having this conversation, I came across an article written by another colleague on the issue of maras in El Salvador. She points out connections between the two types criminal organizations that I have seen mentioned in local and international coverage of crime in Central America: drug traffickers hire mareros as assassins, as protection along smuggling routes, and as small-time local drug dealers. The interesting thing, however, is that the maras in El Salvador make most of their money from extortion. It brings to mind passages from the political science literature on state building in Europe that reference the mafia-style way in which new states were formed through protection rackets. But are the maras considered organized crime? How much are they like the mafia, either in the US or in Italy? Is the extortion they commit anything like the mafia-type protection racket? I don't think I know enough about the US or Italian mafia or other types of organized crime to say, but I think the question is interesting.

New Start

So, with earnest good intentions, I dedicate myself once again to write at least once a week on my blog. I'm back in the US again, writing up the dissertation, so tales of my adventures are less likely to appear. But if you, dear readers, are interested in reading about Latin American politics and other interesting things related to my research that has caught my eye, give my blog another gander. Here's what I've got for you today:

NPR has an interesting story on firearms today. It looks at the history of the Glock, the Austrian handgun that has become ubiquitous in the US. According to the author of the book Glock: The Rise of America's Gun, Paul Barrett, this particular handgun became popular not only because it is easy to learn to use but because the manufacturer gave discounts to police departments for bulk orders, it was featured in movies and television, and (my favorite reason) it was featured in rap lyrics--in part because Glock was easy to rhyme with, as the author puts it, "words you might want to use in rap lyrics."

The most interesting part of the article for me, however, is Barrett's discussion of the role Glock played in the Assault Weapons bill here in the US, and how large capacity firearms like the Glock ended up on the street after police stations replaced their older weapons with new guns. For anyone interested in the connections between politics, capitalism, and crime, this interview is worth a listen (or a read, if you're so inclined).

I followed a link from NPR to this Washington Post investigation on guns in the US. The various articles linked to this page are fascinating and also worth some time to check out. I especially recommend the articles that trace the path guns follow from first sale to recovery at a crime scene.