Since leaving hospital in December, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, known as Lula (pictured), has cut a smart figure. Brazil’s president has taken to wearing a Panama hat to hide deep scars from two emergency brain surgeries. They were carried out to halt bleeding in his brain that followed slipping in the bathroom and banging his head. Lula, who is 79, has been in good spirits. He recently joked that he could live until 120. His Workers’ Party (PT) insists that he will run again in Brazil’s next presidential election, in 2026.
There is less certainty behind the scenes. On January 20th O Globo, a national newspaper, reported that Lula had surprised his cabinet by telling them that he would not run again unless he is in good health. The Workers’ Party has been thrown into a frenzy. He is the party’s only popular figure. Its base has shrunk as the Brazil in which it was forged has changed. Once an industrial powerhouse built upon a unionised, largely Catholic workforce, today Brazil relies on high-tech agriculture and gig workers who flock to evangelical temples. As Lula’s star fades, the party he built, which dominates Brazil’s left, faces “an identity crisis”, says Celso Rocha de Barros, the author of a book on the PT.
Lula’s remarkable life-story and personal magnetism have helped him connect with voters in ways most politicians can only dream of. Born to a poor family in Brazil’s drought-prone north-east, he eventually moved to São Paulo, where he worked his way up from shoe-shine boy to lathe operator and later leader of the country’s metalworkers’ union. He is the first Brazilian president to be elected to three non-consecutive terms. Barack Obama once called him “the man”.
The man
During his first two terms, from 2003 to 2010, Chinese demand for Brazilian commodities rocketed. The state oil firm, Petrobras, discovered huge reserves of crude oil. This helped to fund an expansive welfare programme and reduce poverty.
Then Lula’s luck ran out. Commodity prices fell, and in 2014 the PT was engulfed in a corruption scandal. Construction firms had been paying kickbacks to Petrobras executives and politicians, including many from the PT. In 2017 it caught up with Lula, and he was sentenced to nine years in jail (his conviction was later overturned). All the while, the PT conducted vicious campaigns against any potential rival to Lula, maintaining his control of the party.
The corruption scandals dented Lula’s reputation, but he remains a giant of Brazilian politics. After his release he regained the presidency from Jair Bolsonaro, a far-right populist, in 2023. Fernando Morais, Lula’s biographer, describes him as “a buffalo”, gruff, disciplined and energetic. He has shrugged off concerns about his age by hinting that he has a lot of sex with his wife, who is 21 years his junior. A poll of over 8,500 Brazilians taken between December 4th and 9th suggested that Lula would beat any rival in 2026. Yet a slim majority of Brazilians also said he should not run again. This year “things are going to get messy” as candidates jockey for Lula’s blessing, says Mr Morais.
Top of the list of potential successors in the PT is Fernando Haddad, the finance minister. Mr Haddad is considered a pragmatist, and a rare government voice that upholds fiscal continence. Yet this has drawn the ire of the PT’s base. His cerebral background—he has degrees in law, economics and philosophy, and wrote a doctoral thesis on “historical materialism”—makes him something of a hard sell. As the PT’s presidential candidate in 2018 he was walloped by Mr Bolsonaro, who rode an anti-establishment wave to power.
The PT could yet plump for a popular minister or governor from the north-east, its stronghold. Both options are fraught. Camilo Santana, the education minister, is gaining ground but still lacks name recognition. Rui Costa, the former governor of the biggest north-eastern state, has had a bumpy ride as Lula’s chief of staff.
That leaves possible heirs to left-wing leadership from outside the PT. For a while Guilherme Boulos, a 42-year-old socialist congressman, seemed to be Lula’s likeliest successor. He rebelled against his well-to-do family at university, moved into a squat, and became the leader of an organisation that helps homeless people. Although he embraced Brazil’s poor, they have not embraced him. In October he ran to be São Paulo’s mayor, and lost by almost 20 points to the dull right-wing incumbent.
Power couple
Tabata Amaral, a congresswoman from São Paulo and a young rising star of the left, does not yet appear to possess sufficient political heft. She also ran in São Paulo’s mayoral race but received just 10% of votes. Her partner, João Campos, the mayor of Recife, the capital of Lula’s home state of Pernambuco, may have a better shot. In October he was re-elected mayor with almost 80% of the vote. Both are 31, and so open to charges of inexperience.
When Lula is not on the ballot the PT is fragile, and right-of-centre parties dominate. The number of municipalities with PT mayors has fallen from 624 in 2012 to 252. Its base has shifted from the south-east, the manufacturing heartland, to the north-east, where many people rely on government aid. That is a liability, since right-wing governments have also embraced handouts. “The PT used to depend on the organised poor,” says Mr Barros. “Now they depend on the disorganised poor.” As Lula prepares to bow out, the movement he built may struggle to outlast him. ■
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