Às armas cidãos [cidadãos] É tempo às armas Nem um momento mais, perder deveis Se à força da Razão os Reis não cedem Das armas ao poder sedão [cedam] os Reis.
The handwritten pamphlet that circulated through the streets of Rio de Janeiro around September 1821 – and was very likely pasted on walls and posts scattered throughout the city – set the tone of the unrest that had been brewing in the capital of the Empire that year. The verse that echoes the lyrics of The Marseillaise – the French revolutionary anthem, whose refrain begins with “Aux armes, Citoyens!” – records the way that the ideas that once inspired a revolution were circulating right in the heart of the court of the prince regent D. Pedro.
Figure 1 — Rouget de Lisle Singing the Marseillaise. Isidore Pils, 1849, Strasbourg Historical Museum / Wikimedia Commons.
However, all that pomp and circumstance never went beyond the realm of rhetoric. That year, there was no climate for overthrowing the Bragança dynasty. Let alone beheading the monarch, as had happened in France in 1789. But, if it was necessary to fight for some change in the order of things, let it be for the constitutionalization of the kingdom and the independence of Brazil. Amid the succession of events triggered on both sides of the Atlantic by the constitutionalist and revolutionary movement of Porto, many people began to grow uneasy with the musty smell of the absolutist model – the “ancien régime”, as the radical French republicans had liked to call it a little over two decades earlier.
Figure 2 — Allegory - The Constitution accepted by the people of Lisbon. António Maria da Fonseca, 1821. Engraving collection of the Sociedade Martins Sarmento. Ref: [SOARES, I, p.289-290, (n.º 100 -f); VASCONCELOS, p.20]
The political language of the pamphlet “Às armas, cidadãos” shows quite well the style of what, at the time, was called a “literary war.” The rule was simple: whoever spoke the loudest won. And the whole thing takes on even more drastic contours when we consider the “papelinhos” – handwritten documents that displayed a somewhat more rudimentary modulation than the printed versions. The purpose could not have been clearer: forceful slogans and phrases without much embellishment were used with the intention of being read aloud and making an impact on the largest possible number of listeners. Besides, of course, making the message easier to understand. Sometimes they flaunted a violent and radical rhetoric. Because they were tools of rapid communication, spelling mistakes were not rare. It mattered little, as long as the message was well understood – by the literate or not – in the public square.
Figure 3 — “Às armas cidadãos” pamphlet, September 1821. Box 195, folder 6, file 13. Azeredo da Silveira Library of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Brasília.
Whether in the form of verses, proclamations, or notices, these handwritten “little papers” revived, in nineteenth-century Rio de Janeiro, the tradition of the pamphlets that circulated during the seventeenth-century English revolutions, the War of Independence of the Thirteen Colonies in 1776, and the events of the French Revolution at the end of the eighteenth century. These examples of some of the specific weapons of political life in the modern world bear witness to a crossroads moment in our history, in which choices and decisions had to be made as ideals of freedom, autonomy, and independence circulated ever more widely among Brazilians.
Bibliographic References
CARVALHO, José Murilo de; BASTOS, Lúcia; BASILE, Marcello. Às armas, cidadãos!: panfletos manuscritos da independência do Brasil (1820-1823). São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2012.
CARVALHO, José Murilo de; BASTOS, Lúcia; BASILE, Marcello (Org.). Literary War: independence pamphlets (1820-1823). Belo Horizonte: Editora UFMG, 2014.
STARLING, Heloisa Maria Murgel; DE LIMA, Marcela Telles (orgs.). Vozes do Brasil: a linguagem política na Independência (1820-1824). Brasília: Edições do Senado Federal, 2021.