The Council, the Lighthouse, and the Sailor (2) – Folha de S. Paulo, July 1, 1987

by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira

As Congressman Cunha Bueno raises the banner of the monarchy—with considerably greater impact than many had imagined—and as the idea of a parliamentary system no longer seems far from realization, I am certain that I serve my country on a nonpartisan and apolitical basis by recalling another memory of imperial Brazil, one that left such deep and pleasant marks on our history that it persisted, decade after decade, into the Republic as a luminous nostalgia.

This refers to the Council of State, which was concisely, elegantly, and clearly outlined in Chapter 7 (Articles 137 and 144) of the 1824 Constitution.

This council included figures who would later assume leading roles in the republican regime — and who, until their deaths, continued to call themselves councilors, as if that prestigious body had outlived the monarchy itself. Such was the case with Councilor Antônio Prado and with the republican of republicans, Councilor Rui Barbosa.

Article 142 provided that this council was ultimately to be consulted “on all serious matters and general measures of public administration…” as well as “on all occasions when the emperor proposes to exercise any of the powers proper to the Moderating Power,” that is, the supreme authority of the State. Replace “emperor” with “President,” and the whole matter becomes clear.

To be appointed a State Councilor by the emperor, a Brazilian citizen had to be “40 years of age or older” (Art. 45, paragraph 2) and a “person of learning, ability, and virtue” (Art. 45, paragraph 3).

The Council of State thus formed an intellectual elite, recruited based on personal ability and drawn from the most capable men in various fields related to public affairs.

Appointed for life, the councilors looked beyond — and above — the waves of partisan debate. As the country’s leading figures, they issued opinions on all issues considered most important to Brazil.

At the Council of State meetings, councilors were allowed to explain their votes. These explanations were recorded in the council’s minutes and then made available to the press — except, of course, during secret sessions.

Neither the emperor nor Parliament was obligated to follow the council’s pronouncements. However, they often found it difficult to do so because of the significant influence these voices held over the electorate.

Of course, the ten councilors of the imperial era would not suffice for contemporary Brazil. In my view, there should be at least a hundred, divided into specialized sections that address the broad and varied issues handled by the modern State — a State further swollen by socialist elephantiasis.

Although they do not exactly abound in the political arena, our country has men capable of this task.

A contemporary circumstance would make a Council of State even more effective.

Until the middle of this century, events in Brazil usually had little impact abroad.

These days, despite all the nonsense that has punctuated our political life, Brazil’s progress has been unstoppable. And this gives many of the events unfolding here much greater international weight.

Thus, it would not be unusual for issues brought before a future Council of State to have global repercussions on two different levels: within international scientific communities and among the general public.

On the other hand, today Brazil’s true luminaries are no longer content to be known only within our continental borders. They want more. They aspire to be recognized in the corresponding circles of the world’s elite. It would be entirely natural for a major opinion issued by a Council of State to gain prominence in the specialized journals and publications of the principal nations.

Let’s agree that, in some cases, influential members of the Council of State would find it easy to gain fame. Wouldn’t an opinion that suggests Brazil’s way out of the current economic and financial deadlock become world-famous?

Now, if such were the reward for well-reasoned opinions, how small would be the value given to documents based on hurried arguments, questionable data, and incoherent overall — like many rushed, self-serving, and not well-informed statements from our so-called leaders, which today’s mass media eagerly spread.

All of this would consistently require the councilors to study, analyze, and reflect deeply.

Would we be in this current state of chaos if figures as distinguished as those who once sat on the Imperial Council served on Brazil’s Council today? I believe it’s very unlikely. Like a lighthouse, that council would guide the way when rocks, winds, fog, and darkness make the crossing dangerous.

It is quite true that the President, the Cabinet, or Congress might decide not to follow the council’s advice.

A ship captain might also decide to ignore a lighthouse beam, but he’ll have to answer to his crew and passengers later!