This supposedly intangible, romantic thing is in fact rooted in something concrete and quantifiable: our material conditions
In a series of short essays, writers consider what happiness means to them now, after the reckoning of the past few years
On 30 December last year, Jair Bolsonaro lost to Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva in Brazil’s presidential election, making Bolsonaro the first incumbent to fail to be re-elected in Brazil since redemocratisation. Just over a week later, Brazil’s congress, presidential palace and supreme court were invaded by thousands of supporters of Bolsonaro. They proceeded to smash the windows, artworks and computers of the buildings that symbolise Brazilian democracy. I mention this not because the invasion of Brasília made me happy (it did not), or because Lula’s election made me happy (it did), but because Lula’s campaign slogan was sem medo de ser feliz, which translates literally as “without fear of being happy”, or, put more succinctly, “unafraid of happiness”.
In his first speech as president, Lula began by promising every Brazilian three meals a day, a job, and access to healthcare and education. He went on to promise zero deforestation, indigenous land rights and the recreation of the ministries for racial equality, women and culture. Lula’s slogan acknowledges something we can be loth to admit. That happiness – this supposedly intangible, romantic thing – is directly linked to the most quantifiable and decidedly unethereal aspects of lives: our material conditions.
Yara Rodrigues Fowler is the author of there are more things