Hall of Mirrors: Media,Democratization,and the Public Sphere in Maranhão,Brazil

Maranhão Under the Sarneys and Beyond

In 1965 the recently installed Brazilian military regime held state-level elections. While the dismal results led it to suspend direct elections for state governors for the next 16 years (Stepan, 1973), in Maranhão the election brought José Sarney—a federal deputy, a successful writer, and a member of the Academia Maranhense das Letras (Maranhão’s literary academy)— to power on an aggressive economic and social modernization platform (Sarney, 2010). Through his alliance with the military, José Sarney allowed for an authoritarian modernization process to take hold in Maranhão (cf. Dantas Neto, 2006), paving the way for important infrastructure and natural resources extraction projects including the construction of new highways and deep-water ports as well as Brazil’s biggest aluminum plant (Echeverria, 2011). Under José Sarney the Maranhão legislature facilitated the concentration rather than the redistribution of land where the Sarneys had interests. José Sarney also acquired extensive concerns in energy production and distribution both in the private sector and by controlling public patronage nominations. He also acquired shares in various media outlets. At the same time, he meticulously uprooted all supporters of Victorino Freire, Maranhão’s previous boss (Cabral, 2006; Sarney, 2010).

In 1970 José Sarney moved on to federal politics, where he became federal senator for Maranhão and, in 1979, president of ARENA. He thus participated in the federal regime’s extremely gradual abertura (opening) while developing an extensive political network throughout Brazil (Echeverria, 2011). As the military regime foundered in the early 1980s, he defected to the newly created Partido da Frente Liberal (Liberal Front Party—PFL), a coalition of regional strongmen concerned about their political survival and looking to preserve their control over their respective states’ political systems. To this end, the PFL negotiated an alliance with the long-time opposition Partido do Movimento Democrático Brasileiro (Party of the Brazilian Democratic Movement—PMDB), and in 1985 José Sarney was elected vice-president by the electoral college on the opposition ticket led by Tancredo Neves of the PMDB. With Neves’s sudden illness and death, José Sarney became president and led Brazil’s first civilian government after the dictatorship. A constituent assembly debated and enacted a new federal constitution under his presidency (Stepan, 1989).

While busy in federal politics, José Sarney remained present in Maranhão both as a critical intermediary between subnational demands and federal resources and as head of a dense subnational political network (Gibson, 2013). While his control of subnational politics was never as complete as that of other Northeastern bosses (cf. the rule of Antônio Carlos Magalhães in Bahia [Souza, 2016]), his combination of patronage and machine politics allowed him to preserve subnational power until 2014. Through Sistema Mirante, he replicated in the media system the crucial intermediary position he held in the political system between the federation and the subnational state—a phenomenon known as coronelismo eletrônico. Similar conditions can be found in other Brazilian states, including many in the Northeast (Santos, 2008; Lima, 2015).The boundaries of the Sarneys’ political group were quite fluid; some politicians could be on good terms with José and/or Roseana Sarney at one point and form the opposition at others (Sarney, 2010). These tensions, however, did not call the oligarchic nature of Maranhão into question, and the Sarneys’ overwhelming control of the interior municipalities and of the state legislature guaranteed that at no time was their overall command over the subnational political system at risk (Couto, 2007). For most of their regime, the opposition’s only stronghold was São Luís (pop. 1,073,893), the state’s capital, industrial hub, and most populous city. Jackson Lago, of the Partido Democrático Trabalhista (Democratic Labor Party—PDT) and a historical leader of the antioligarchic opposition, was elected mayor of São Luís in 1988 and again in 1996 and 2000. In 2004 the governor, José Reinaldo Tavares, broke with the Sarneys over personal issues and supported Lago as gubernatorial candidate. With Tavares’s open support, Lago was elected governor in 2006, but his term was cut short in 2009 by the Brazilian High Electoral Court on abuse of power and vote-buying grounds. Throughout his time in office, Lago was constantly on the defensive, given the Sarneys’ constant attacks through the media, the courts, and the legislature, where their allies held twice as many seats as Lago’s (Borges, 2009).

The electoral court’s ruling gave the governorship to Roseana Sarney, the runner-up in the 2006 elections. Roseana had already been governor of Maranhão between 1995 and 2002 and went on to win reelection in 2010. Under her the regime’s full oligarchic nature came to the fore, ranging from police harassment of the political opposition and social movements to nepotism, insider deals, and outright corruption. The fact that José Sarney—now president of the federal Senate—had a strong political alliance with President Lula (2002–2010) inhibited any form of federal investigation into subnational affairs (Couto, 2015; Dória, 2009).

In 2014 Flávio Dino, a federal judge and a law professor, former director of the Brazilian Tourism Bureau, and a member of the PCdoB, was elected governor in the first round with more than 63 percent of the vote (TSE, 2016), running on a strong antioligarchic platform and supported by a broad coalition spanning from the right-of-center Partido da Social-Democracia Brasileira (Brazilian Social-Democratic Party—PSDB) to Lago’s PDT and the leftist Partido Socialista Brasileiro (Brazilian Socialist Party—PSB). Dino promised justice, increased social policies, and an end to oligarchic privileges (Programa, 2014). The Partido dos Trabalhadores (Workers’ Party—PT), however, sided with Edinho Lobão, the Sarneys’ candidate. This was a federal decision, as President Dilma decided to preserve the alliance with the Sarneys and, through them, with the federal PMDB. Yet the anti-Sarney coalition won only 10 of 42 seats in the state legislature and therefore needed to build much broader coalitions if it expected to put an end to the Sarneys’ control over Maranhão’s political system (TSE, 2016). It is therefore too soon to reach any definitive conclusions about long-term regime change in Maranhão.

The Political Economy of the Media in Maranhão

Once the Portuguese allowed the introduction of the printing press in Brazil in 1808, Maranhão rapidly became one of Brazil’s most important publishing centers, second only to Rio de Janeiro, the national capital, and thus giving rise to the myth of the “Brazilian Athens.” Maranhão’s first newspaper, O Conciliador, appeared in 1821, a year before Brazil’s independence. It was largely pro-government, dividing its space between praising the incumbent governor, attacking his enemies, and publishing commercial announcements but also surprisingly free letters to the editor, all without formally distinguishing between information and opinion—thereby setting a lasting trend (Hallewell, 2012; Pinheiro, 2011; 2012). From the outset of his career José Sarney recognized the political value of the media, using catchy jingles and popular singers to promote his candidacy. As a promotional device he had his inauguration as governor in 1966 filmed by Glauber Rocha, one of Brazil’s foremost directors. The resulting documentary, Maranhão 66, was highly controversial both because of its innovative editing techniques and because of the contradiction between Rocha’s progressive political commitments and his apparent support of José Sarney’s authoritarian modernization project. In any case, it gave ample visibility to José Sarney and his political project within and outside Maranhão. In 1970 another film, Milagres do Maranhão (Miracles of Maranhão) by Isaac Rosemberg, trumpeted José Sarney’s accomplishments in straightforward propaganda fashion (Cabral, 2006; Couto, 2007). ¹

Arguing that, as a politician, he needed constant positive exposure to the public, Sarney acquired the daily Jornal do Dia in 1968. Renamed Estado do Maranhão, it soon became the state’s largest newspaper, although its circulation was and remains largely restricted to São Luís (Couto, 2007; Sarney, 2010; Sarney and Cabalau, interview, São Luís, 2015). In the following decades he bought a number of TV and radio stations. His Sistema Mirante soon acquired exclusive repetitor rights for Rede Globo, Brazil’s most important media conglomerate. Geographical distances and the limited size of the local market have restricted the capacity of other broadcasters to compete. Until recently, the Sarneys were willing to put up with economic losses for the sake of visibility (Couto, 2007; Sarney, 2010). Sistema Mirante is a close-knit holding, with most of its media housed at the same address in São Luís, thereby guaranteeing that it speaks with a single editorial voice. It is now run by José Sarney’s son Fernando in the name of the family. Besides defending the Sarneys’ political interests, it aggressively seeks to protect its dominant position in the state’s media system. Recently it adopted Rede Globo’s practice of separating TV content (almost entirely determined by Rede Globo itself on the media-as-entertainment model) from radio and newspaper content, for which editorial decision making remains in the hands of the Sarneys. Always concerned about its image, Sistema Mirante underwent a profound technical and graphic reform in 2009 (Couto, 2015; Sarney and Cabalau, interview, São Luís, 2015).

Maranhão’s second-largest media group is Rede Difusora, affiliated with the Sistema Brasileiro de Televisão (Brazil’s second-largest media conglomerate) and owned by the Lobãos, a political family closely associated with the Sarneys. Edison Lobão was governor of Maranhão between 1991 and 1994 and was elected to the federal Senate on several occasions, the last being in 2011. Next he was minister of mines and energy under presidents Lula and Dilma. His son, Edinho, is also a senator for Maranhão but was defeated by Dino in the 2014 gubernatorial race. Originally with the PFL, both politicians, following José and Roseana Sarney’s lead, later joined the PMDB. Both are under investigation on charges of corruption and fraud (Dória, 2009; Jornal Pequeno, April 5, 2016).

Rede Difusora is not nearly as widespread as Sistema Mirante and does not have a print outlet. Nevertheless, it owns numerous TV and radio stations and can be a serious competitor in some markets, including Imperatriz, the state’s second-largest city (pop. 253,123). While it has its own editorial voice, it frequently takes the same side as Sistema Mirante, reflecting the political proximity between the owners of the two media groups (Ramalho, interview, Imperatriz, 2015). Rede Nativa, Maranhão’s distant third-largest media group, has close ties with the Sarneys and is affiliated with the national Rede Record—Brazil’s third-largest media conglomerate, owned by Brazil’s largest evangelical church, the Igreja Universal do Reino de Deus— and essentially follows its editorial orientation (Arimatéia Júnior, interview, Imperatriz, 2015). Beginning in the late 1970s, a number of smaller radio stations emerged throughout Maranhão. Obtaining a license, however, is a difficult process and often requires political leverage. As a result, the smaller stations are involved in clientelistic relations with political patrons. This was the case of Rádio Imperatriz, the city’s first local radio station, installed in 1978, of which Edison Lobão, then a federal senator, was a partner (Brito, 2014: Lima, 2015).

Despite the Sarneys’ oligarchic rule, Maranhão has a tradition of small, independent newspapers that give voice to the opposition. One of the oldest and most important is Jornal Pequeno of São Luís. Founded in 1951, it was an early ally of José Sarney but broke with him when he arrested its owner, José Ribamar Bogéa, on defamation charges. Convicted by a local court, Bogéa was acquitted on a federal appeal—an outcome that was broadly trumpeted as a triumph for freedom of expression (Couto, 2015; Bogéa, interview, São Luís, 2015). Jornal Pequeno continued to publish uninterruptedly, despite constant government hostility, little to no government advertisement, and occasional administrative and judiciary harassment. Since Bogéa’s death, Jornal Pequeno has been owned and published by his three sons. In the early 2000s it began publishing weekly columns by several well-known political opponents of the Sarneys, including Dino after he became federal deputy in 2007. Jornal Pequeno is now São Luís’s second-largest newspaper and a serious competitor to Estado do Maranhão. It is also attempting to gain a permanent foothold in Imperatriz but otherwise offers very limited coverage of the interior (Bogéa, interview, São Luis, 2015).

As is typical of the rest of Brazil, where they are important actors in the media system (Vieira, 2015), Maranhão has a number of public affairs magazines. The largest one is Maranhão hoje, founded in 2013 and chiefly oriented toward a business readership. Its editorial line attempts to escape political identification and maintain open dialogue with and coverage of all parties, all while documenting public affairs. Aquiles Emir, its owner, has a weekly column in Jornal Pequeno, and Diego Emir, his son and chief reporter, also publishes in Estado de São Paulo, one of Brazil’s national newspapers (Emir; 2016; Emir, interview, São Luís, 2015). In 2015 a similar publication, Maranhão do Sul hoje, appeared in Imperatriz.

Another important element in Maranhão’s media system is the popular or “brown” press (imprensa marrom, so-called for its tendency to publish excrement). Originally print-based, it is now also available on the radio and in numerous blogs throughout the state. It is possibly the fastest-growing media segment in Maranhão, forcing other, more established media to increase their coverage of public security, violence, and other “real life” issues (Araújo, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Ramalho, interview, Imperatriz, 2015). While most of Maranhão’s brown press claims to be apolitical or at least nonpartisan, some vehicles do have a strong political component. Of the most visible ones, none are affiliated with the Sarneys, but some, such as Vias de Fato, are in strong opposition to the Dino government while others, such as Itaqui-Bacanga (both a daily newspaper and a community radio station), collaborate with the government and have been invited to participate with other small and community radio stations in jointly broadcasting live debates with Governor Dino (Azevedo, interview, São Luís, 2015; Prazeres, interview, São Luís, 2015).

A final feature of Maranhão’s media system is the existence of state-owned media (Valente, 2009). There is only one state-owned radio station. Rádio Timbira. São Luís’s oldest radio station, founded in 1941, it is directly controlled by the state’s Secretariat of Social Communication but under the Dino government has gained a measure of autonomy in its programming. Severely neglected by Roseana Sarney, who saw it as useless competition to Sistema Mirante, Rádio Timbira has recently hired new personnel and made significant investments in broadcasting and web-based technology. Governor Dino claims that Rádio Timbira is an instrument for democratizing access to the media and creating a healthy state-society dialogue (Maranhão, 2015). It is currently heard only in São Luís and on the Internet but has recently experimented with linking several independent radio stations throughout the state—including Itaqui-Bacanga—in order to reach a broader audience (Oliveira, interview, São Luís, 2015; Prazeres, interview, São Luís, 2015).

Dino’s achievement of subnational power altered media access to the government. As one of his first measures, aimed directly against the Sarneys and their media power, he terminated the advertising contract linking the subnational government to Sistema Mirante, which cornered 64 percent of the subnational advertising budget, besides halting other unofficial benefits such as the use of state police helicopters to film traffic accidents and other news (Couto, 2007; 2015; Merli, interview, Brasilia, 2015). At the same time there was a significant increase in government advertising spending on alternative media (Rodrigues, 2014). Moreover, Sistema Mirante lost access to all subnational officials and was forced to cover the Maranhão government through press releases, leaks, and outside information. Jornal Pequeno and other smaller papers, including Itaqui-Bacanga, gained unfettered access to the government and began to publish exclusive news and interviews with politicians and public officials (Bogéa, interview, São Luís, 2015; Oliveira, interview, São Luís, 2015; Sarney and Cabalau, interview, São Luís, 2015).

After a protracted legal battle that blocked all of Maranhão’s government advertising, an agreement was reached in November 2015 that returned a significant share of official advertising to Sistema Mirante but allowed the government some discretion in establishing advertising contracts with smaller—and more sympathetic—players. Both sides claimed victory in the conflict in the name of freedom of expression. However, the advertising blackout was sorely resented by the smaller actors, including Jornal Pequeno, which largely depend on government advertising for revenue. Despite the settlement, Sistema Mirante’s coverage of the subnational government has not improved (Bogéa, São Luís, interview, 2015; Oliveira, interview, São Luís, 2015).

In sum, the political economy of the Maranhão media system is not very conducive to the emergence of an active public sphere. While there are numerous and varied media actors, the arena they constitute is fragmented by geographical and market conditions, and only a single dominant actor, linked to the political oligarchy, is present throughout the state.

Social and Political Actors and the Media in Maranhão

José Sarney constructed Sistema Mirante with an unabashedly political purpose. For more than 30 years, he has used his column on the front page of Estado do Maranhão’s Sunday edition to air his opinions, praise his supporters, attack his opponents, and comment on the conduct of public affairs (see, e.g., Sarney, 2006; 2015). Sistema Mirante gives media space only to actors and groups that are politically close to the Sarneys and their allies. Maranhão’s largest economic groups, both in agribusiness and in the industrial sector, thus had permanent access to the media. In normal times the system simply blacklisted and ignored the Sarneys’ enemies, thus depriving them of exposure in Maranhão’s most important media system. Only during open conflicts such as that with Governor Tavares in 2006 did Sistema Mirante actually attack a political opponent (Couto, 2007; Cabral, interview, São Luís, 2015). Dino became the target of significant attacks from Estado do Maranhão and the web platform of Sistema Mirante after 2010, when it became clear that he was the most important leader of the opposition to the Sarneys. Sistema Mirante’s broadcast media largely ignored Dino until late in the gubernatorial campaign in 2014, when they began to attack him constantly. Despite this negative exposure, Sistema Mirante was unable to prevent Dino’s overwhelming electoral victory (Merli, interview, Brasilia, 2015).

In the early 2000s, in the aftermath of Tavares’s break with the Sarneys, Jornal Pequeno became a showcase for the political opposition to both José and Roseana Sarney (Bogéa, interview, São Luís, 2015). On December 31, 2006, the last day of Tavares’s term, José Sarney published a spectacular front-page attack on him in his Sunday column (Sarney, 2006), eliciting a direct response from Tavares published two days later on the front page of Jornal Pequeno (Tavares, 2007). Estado do Maranhão and Jornal Pequeno thus inaugurated a tradition of mirror coverage and public controversy. Since 2007 Jornal Pequeno has published a weekly column by Flávio Dino, then a recently elected federal deputy. When Dino became governor, it moved to the front page on Sundays. Tavares and Edivaldo Holanda Júnior, first a federal deputy and then anti-Sarneísta mayor of São Luís since 2012, also have weekly columns in Jornal Pequeno (Bogéa, interview, São Luís, 2015). Jornal Pequeno replies in kind to Sistema Mirante’s attacks on the Dino government, publishing scoops on the misdemeanors of various members of the Sarney family (Jornal Pequeno, November 28 and 29, 2015). In every issue of the weekly Itaqui-Bacanga, one of São Luís’s most visible brown papers, the top half is devoted to positive coverage of Governor Dino and Mayor Holanda Júnior while the bottom half has gruesome graphic coverage of São Luís’s most recent murder and sex scandals in full color. As does Jornal Pequeno, Itaqui-Bacanga offers a column to Governor Dino and another to former Governor Tavares. An evangelical pastor writes a column that appears next to half-nude models and reports of rape and murder (Itaqui-Bacanga, November 27–December 3, 2015). As in the rest of Maranhão’s print media, other than the guest columns most articles are not signed.

As in the rest of the world, a number of political blogs has emerged in Maranhão. While they claim to cover and disseminate citizen demands, they tend to be brown media, focusing on crime and violence. In so doing, they occupy media space left vacant by the more established media—although their penetration is very limited given the fact that so few of Maranhão’s households have access to the Internet. Since the 2014 campaign, Dino has developed close relations with many blogs in an attempt to break the isolation imposed by Sistema Mirante and, to a lesser degree, Rede Difusora and Rede Nativa (Merli, interview, Brasilia, 2015). Although the blogs focus mostly on extremely local affairs with little research or follow-up, several bloggers and reporters have become political consultants and freely use their media outlets to pursue their clients’—or their own—political ends. At least one of them has been elected city councilman in Imperatriz, and others have been unsuccessful candidates for several local positions (Araújo, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Cabral, interview, São Luís, 2015). Therefore, they cannot claim to be neutral or to examine both sides of any given issue as the standards of democratic journalism require (Schultz, 1998).

Since May 2015, Rádio Timbira has aired a weekly discussion program with Dino. Rádio Timbira is responsible for all the technical aspects of the program, but in order to improve the governor’s media exposure it is open to journalists from other media as well—including a brown radio station but also a Catholic and an evangelical one (Oliveira, interview, São Luís, 2015; Rádio Timbira, 2016). Its new programming also makes space for social organizations and their interests. The Serviço Social do Comércio (trademen’s social service) and the liberal professions and their associations are also very present on Rádio Timbira as part of the governor’s coalition-building efforts. Larger business associations (e.g., agribusiness) are considered close to the large media groups—and therefore to the Sarneys—and do not have access to Rádio Timbira (Oliveira, interview, São Luís, 2015; Prazeres, interview, São Luís, 2015). Rádio Timbira’s content and production, however, remain in the government’s hands. Further demonstrating the importance the Dino government attaches to media affairs, in February 2016 the state’s Secretariat for Social Communication, which oversees Rádio Timbira, also became responsible for managing the subnational government’s political affairs.

Religious groups have also acquired media outlets in Maranhão. Besides the formal radio stations affiliated with them, such as those that collaborate with Rádio Timbira in giving the governor greater media exposure, there are unofficial Catholic and evangelical community stations (Lima, 2015; Araújo, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Prazeres, interview, São Luís, 2015). Jornal Pequeno publishes a weekly gospel page on Sundays, and, as mentioned earlier, Rede Nativa is affiliated with the Igreja Universal do Reino de Deus and follows its conservative agenda, including its antigay and antiabortion positions (Arimatéia Júnior, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Bogéa, interview, São Luís, 2015). Smaller evangelical radio stations such as the one that took over Rádio Imperatriz in 2009 have done away with sports programming, considering it alien to their religious mandate (Brito, 2014).

Aquiles Emir, the publisher of Maranhão hoje, has a political preference for Dino, but he makes an effort to provide balanced coverage of politicians from all parties. Mild criticism of the subnational government and heavy criticism of the federal government also appear frequently. Social movements receive no coverage whatsoever, while business and economic pieces take up more than half of the magazine’s space (Emir, interview, São Luís, 2015). Another news magazine, Maranhão do Sul hoje, began publication in July 2015 in Imperatriz with a mandate to provide comprehensive regional coverage. Its first number was almost entirely devoted to business development and investment opportunities, interviews with local entrepreneurs, and promotion of regional tourism and health services. A number of political actors and institutions (ranging from the governor and legislature to the mayor and council) were covered in congratulatory articles, but many also had paid advertisements in the magazine, often on the same pages as their articles. No investigative articles appeared in this first number.

The more combative social organizations have little access to the media. The only vehicle to systematically cover their activities and disseminate their demands is Vias de Fato. Besides its clear leftist ideological commitment, the fact that Vias de Fato operates on a social economy model means that labor and student unions, indigenous movements, the Movimento dos Trabalhadores Rurais Sem Terra (Landless Workers Movement—MST), and other such organizations may publish material in Vias de Fato if they produce it themselves. Some social organizers, mostly university-based, are also members of Vias de Fato’s editorial board. While the print version of Vias de Fato is a monthly, the vehicle also maintains a blog (Azevedo, interview, São Luís, 2015).

In order to keep their audience and face the competition from the blogs and from the smaller journals with better access to the government, the larger media groups (Sistema Mirante, Rede Difusora, and Rede Nativa) have opened space for what they call public-led coverage. Individuals are encouraged to contact the broadcasters using both phone and social media to call attention to personal or neighborhood problems and demand solutions from the government directly on the air. Individual participation in these programs is sought, but party and union leaders are systematically excluded. Sistema Mirante uses this procedure to channel social opposition to the Dino government (Arimatéia Júnior, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Ramalho, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Sarney and Cabalau, interview, São Luís 2015). The polarization originated by the oligarchic regime and its opposition is reflected in Maranhão’s media by the emergence of a mirror effect in which media on opposite sides publish equivalent news and opinion in open debate with one another. While this has given some groups increased media space, their voices are subordinate to the larger media’s political concerns. The expansion of the public sphere is therefore limited.

Current Issues in the Media in Maranhão

The Sarneys’ Sistema Mirante has a clear political position and is very critical of the governor. This has led to increased coverage of opposition demands, social movements, and individual complaints. Asked whether this was brown press, the director of Estado do Maranhão responded, “We do not invent violence.” Rather, he said, they cover it because of their democratic mandate to inform the public (Sarney and Cabalau, interview, São Luís, 2015). Except for local news, aired outside prime time, TV content is determined in Rio de Janeiro by Sistema Mirante’s network leader, Rede Globo, and is entirely disconnected from Maranhão politics, so most of Sistema Mirante’s opposition coverage is aired through the radio, the Internet, or the print media (Merli, interview, Brasilia, 2015; Sarney and Cabalau, interview, São Luís, 2015). Estado do Maranhão’s most important competitor is Jornal Pequeno, with which it maintains an openly conflictive relationship rooted in personal conflicts between the Sarneys and the Bogéas. In terms of content, however, Jornal Pequeno openly mirrors Estado do Maranhão: to compete with José Sarney’s Sunday column, Jornal Pequeno publishes Governor Dino’s column the same day. It has also introduced a regular section on legislative politics, reproducing the one appearing on its competitor’s pages (Bogéa, interview, São Luís, 2015).

Beyond simple reporting, the active promotion of economic development is a priority for some media groups, including Sistema Mirante and Rede Difusora but also the news magazines. Consequently, economic activity, both industrial and commercial, receives abundant positive coverage. Moreover, a prosperous business environment is directly linked to increased revenues from private advertising and greater autonomy from the government (Emir, interview, São Luís, 2015; Ramalho, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Sarney and Cabalau, interview, São Luís, 2015). Some media players recognize that advertising plays a role in media-entrepreneur relationships but disagree as to its extent and nature—whether extreme dependence in both financial and content terms (Arimatéia Júnior, interview, Imperatriz, 2015) or relative disengagement and media autonomy (Ramalho, interview, Imperatriz, 2015). In any case, while private advertising allows for autonomy vis-à-vis political actors and institutions, it also leads to reduced coverage of “radical” politics —students, unions, and strong social movements such as the MST (Arimatéia Júnior, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Emir, interview, São Luís, 2015).

The programming of the state-owned Rádio Timbira is largely, albeit indirectly, determined by the government’s agenda, for which it has become a coalition-building instrument as the government tries to reach out beyond its traditional left-wing constituency. Rádio Timbira thus gives voice to the liberal professions and their interests. This is particularly the case with the physicians, whose opinion is treated as authoritatively promoting civic education and public health. Other issues discussed on Rádio Timbira include consumer rights, family agriculture, and human rights (Prazeres, interview, São Luís, 2015).

The ideological commitments of some media players also play a role in their broadcasting activities. This is the case of Josafá Ramalho, news coordinator of TV Difusora Sul in Imperatriz, who is a prominent member of the Catholic Church’s Pastoral da Comunicação (Communication Pastoral). Ramalho claims that Catholic values are always present in his daily work, influencing his news selection criteria, which opt for civic education and social service (coverage of individual health issues and road, water, and waste-management problems) rather than “radicalism” (interview, Imperatriz, 2015). Maranhão hoje clearly follows the standards of the big Brazilian news magazines in both image and content. Each number has two formal political sections: “Political Power,” edited by Diego Emir, with a series of short items on local, subnational, and federal politics, and “Politics,” under the responsibility of Aquiles Emir, the magazine’s owner, which contains an in-depth article, an interview, and a political analysis column by a local professor. Both sections are always on the front pages.

Claiming to represent the alternative media in Maranhão, Vias de Fato is funded mostly through collective editorial work, voluntary contributions, subscriptions, and donations. As part of its mandate, it brings otherwise excluded issues to the fore, including urban planning, land reform, human rights, and indigenous demands. It consciously uses sensationalist methods to give its issues more visibility and force them into the public debate. “Neutrality favors the oppressor,” says Emílio Azevedo, the monthly’s editor, as justification for this choice (interview, São Luís, 2015). While the rest of the media ignores Vias de Fato, some of the issues it has raised have penetrated the public sphere, most notably the wrongdoing surrounding São Luís’s urban development plan (Vias de Fato, 2015; cf. G1, 2015; Azevedo, interview, São Luís, 2015).

The media’s territorial penetration remains a problem in Maranhão. Physical access is difficult beyond the larger cities, and print media do not cover and are not distributed beyond São Luís, Imperatriz, and their immediate surroundings (Emir, interview, São Luís, 2015; Sarney and Cabalau, interview, São Luís, 2015). TV coverage is universal but is controlled by the national media groups and has very little local content except for violence and scandal. Radio and blogs are locally produced, but they focus on extremely local scandal coverage and their owners’ or advertisers’ political opinions (Arimatéia Júnior, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Ramalho, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Sarney and Cabalau, interview, São Luís, 2015). In general, bloggers portray their violence, crime, and scandal coverage as political activism and a tool for demanding governmental accountability. Typically, these vehicles convey significant mistrust of public authorities and institutions (Araújo, interview, Imperatriz, 2015; Oliveira, interview, São Luís, 2015). One exception is Itaqui-Bacanga, which consistently supports both the municipality and the subnational government. In return, it reaps substantial government advertising and the opportunity to participate in the small and community radio consortium that interviews Governor Dino every week. The brown press, sometimes called comunicação Frankenstein (Araújo, interview, Imperatriz, 2015), may elicit case-by-case responses from the government, but its emphasis on individual phenomena, its biased reporting, and the absence of follow-up limit its political scope. The scandals and blackmail involved have led to violence against reporters. At least seven of them were assassinated in Maranhão in 2015 alone, and others have been injured or threatened, including a journalist who received a death threat from the president of Maranhão’s Legislative Assembly (ANJ, 2014; Jornal Pequeno, November 23, 2015). Nonetheless, and despite limited Internet access, the blogs’ human interest and popularity and the advertising revenues they generate have made them pervasive (Maciel, 2011).

Regime change and the emergence of new media and political actors all contributed to an expansion of the public sphere in terms of issues raised in the media. However, nonelite issues beyond sex, drugs, and violence still have a hard time making themselves heard and play a marginal role in public debate. The Maranhão public sphere is therefore very shallow.

Media and Regime Change in Maranhão

In conclusion, it is difficult to classify Maranhão’s political regime. Until 2014 it was clearly an oligarchy, although oligarchic competition did open some political space, especially for elite members challenging the Sarneys. Dino’s accession to power in 2015 was the culmination of an extremely gradual, heterogeneous, and still unconsolidated transition. The Sarneys and their allies (Sistema Mirante, Rede Difusora, and Rede Nativa) continue to dominate the media system. The actors and issues that find expression in their vehicles tend to reproduce and renew the oligarchic nature of the system, giving coverage and voice almost exclusively to Maranhão’s social and economic elites. Their established competition (Jornal Pequeno, Maranhão hoje) takes the opposite political stance and opens its pages to anti-Sarneístas, thus contributing to the political opening and to a certain expansion of the public sphere. Nevertheless, it responds to Sistema Mirante’s editorial choices and emulates its publication layout, thus creating a media version of a hall of mirrors, reflecting the same image in different, sometimes grotesque ways. It also replicates the exclusion of nonelite actors, ignoring unions, student organizations, and other social movements. Sistema Mirante has only recently opened space to social mobilization in an instrumental way, in order to cover opposition to Dino’s government.

The large media groups are the Maranhão representatives of “electronic bossism” (Santos, 2008), acting as go-betweens between the federation and the state. In political terms, they have lost their exclusive capacity for intermediation, since they no longer have direct access to the subnational government. At the same time, Governor Dino has resurrected Rádio Timbira and transformed it into a coalition-building instrument, ideological commitments notwithstanding. ² The media have thus developed into an instrument of political polarization within the state, forming a personalistic outlet in favor of or in opposition to the governor. As a local observer noted, “In Maranhão, families are political parties” (Cabral, interview, São Luís, 2015).

The real media opening in Maranhão came through technological change and the emergence of the brown press and the blogs as substantial media players. They contribute to the democratization of the media by giving voice and coverage to the interior, largely ignored by the established media. They also help to make government actions public and contribute to accountability by airing the shortcomings and even lack of public services in the poorer areas and neighborhoods of the state (cf. Habermas, 1991 [1962]). Moreover, their success has led larger and more established media to replicate their approach—so-called public-led coverage. Their contribution to the public sphere is, however, limited by their coverage and their choice of actors to give voice to. Their coverage is restricted to short-term, flashy news items (sex and violence) capable of creating an immediate response, with little in-depth analysis or continuity. They focus on individuals and their plight and disregard any mobilization they may be undertaking to address it, thereby contributing to the depoliticization of the public sphere. When they become overtly political, it is usually in connection with local elites —either as communications consultants or as elected officials. The poor quality and bias of their coverage has led to an increase in violence against media actors, including the assassination of several bloggers, thus blurring the lines between organized crime and political violence throughout Maranhão. The only medium in the state that systematically covers and gives voice to social organizations is Vias de Fato, and its dependence on a participatory, social economy model has limited its circulation, although some of the issues it has raised have in fact penetrated the public sphere.

Political change has not led to increased professionalization of the media (balanced coverage, neutrality, and full investigation of issues [cf. Pereira and Maia, 2011]). Only Maranhão hoje has made a visible effort to cover both sides and give voice to many, even opposing political groups. The rest of the media, large and small, continue to acknowledge their political bias and make no attempt to change it while rhetorically supporting democratic media discourse. In so doing, Maranhão media continue to conflate opinion and information just as O Conciliador did in the early nineteenth century. In the political economy of the media in Maranhão, a two-level game has emerged. The big players—the large media conglomerates and the elite newspapers and magazines—continue to play an oligarchic game, albeit one weakened by the higher stakes and conflict brought about by the Sarneys’ defeat. The small media represent a neo-plural system in which fragmentation and incompatible logics among the actors (Oxhorn, 1998), ranging from Maranhão hoje’s attempt at professional journalism to the ideologically driven sensationalism of Vias de Fato to the brown press of Itaqui-Bacanga and many of the blogs, are the norm.

While most media actors pay lip service to the democratic value of freedom of expression and use it successfully to defend themselves against each other and against government encroachment, the fact remains that only certain actors can express themselves on certain issues through the media. Many of them have accepted a partial opening of media space and a relative broadening of media issues, but the current multiplicity of media vehicles has only somewhat improved access to information in the state. Electoral politics have called into question Maranhão’s oligarchic rule, but oligarchic features remain pervasive in the larger media conglomerates. Together with the increase in government publicity, we observe an increase in depoliticization of media content and the ongoing exclusion of social organizations and other collective actors from the public sphere. The relationship between the media and the public sphere in Maranhão under regime change can be compared to a hall of mirrors at a county fair: there are many repetitions, the space seems to shrink at some points but enlarges at others, and it is difficult to know where one is going because not all relevant elements are visible. Maranhão’s experience confirms that normative approaches—viewing the media as making an automatic contribution to democracy (Schultz, 1998) or considering them an instrument of manipulation in the hands of the elite (Lima, 2015)—have little value for understanding media dynamics.