Enforcing Trust: Race, gender, and the policing of citizenship in Rio de Janeiro

Abstract

At the foot of the favela Santa Marta, a tour guide wearing a colorful shirt saying "Rio Top Tour" ushered a group of tourists into a modern funicular. The favela (working poor area or shantytown) is in an affluent neighborhood of Rio de Janeiro, but until recently, it had been ruled by the Comando Vermelho drug gang. "This is crazy," I heard one young blond man say excitedly as the group slowly ascended the steep hill and the visitors photographed the maze of brick houses. Finally, at the top, the breathtaking landscape of Rio unfolded, featuring a prime view of the Sugar Loaf and Copacabana Beach. "Look, it's Michael Jackson!" Pedro, the tour guide, pointed proudly to a bronze statue and giant mosaic of the King of Pop, surrounded by simple shacks. 1 The group of gringos (the term for foreigner, usually American), under the watchful eyes of residents sitting on their doorsteps, photographed the favela with fascination. Then, a Black woman wearing a military police uniform came up the stairs onto the viewing platform. "Oi Pricilla! Come and meet our visitors," Pedro said as he waved the officer over. "Pricilla is great. Everything changed with the pacification police here. That's how I got this job," he informed his audience. At the time, the Unidades da Polícia Pacificadora (Pacification Police Units, UPP), a community police effort, was a new attempt by the Brazilian state to reestablish authority in territories ruled by drug cartels. Circled by residents and tourists, Pricilla Oliveira de Azevedo, commander of the city's first "pacified" favela, smiled for the cameras, shook people's hands, and thanked Pedro for his kind words. Children from the community ran up to Pricilla to give her beijinhos (kisses). "Conseguimos transformar lugares temidos pelos moradores e visitantes em áreas turísticas" (we managed to transform places that