The purpose of this article is to showcase the particular case and occurrence of Integralism within the context of contemporary Brazilian society, taking into account its nature and “hyper-lateness.” The apparent similarity between Integralism and Fascism, in its contemporaneity, is used as example of a “Brazilian Fascism” sui generis without taking any prospect into the essence, movement and processes of differentiation that are imbued within this very own “similarity.” As such, it becomes paramount to dissect that which was historically vested as fertile ground for the proliferation of a mass movement accompanied by its own characteristics and objectives, falling at many times in opposition to the dominant aspects of Fascism itself. What is at the core of the Integralist movement is precisely a longing for the specific past that was particular to the Brazilian experience: its agrarian roots in contraposition to the industrializing drive promoted by Fascism itself.
Article published originally on the blog Left of Wreckage, April 2017. Revised and republished December 2022. DOI 10.17605/OSF.IO/27Z4Q. Available as a pdf here.
Integralism—the Brazilian particularity
V. S. Conttren
Sufficiently, the time of the world utters itself in slower strides than our own particular and conceivable time. Time heretofore has the distinctively capacity of gauging itself over immense strides, consolidating changes of centuries into merely decades, erst less. Ideologies and mass movements are never the same; Integralism of yesterday has little to do with that of today: procedural undertaking and destruction. Of today, only a shadow remains—one that is emboldened by a congregation of what once had been rejected in the theoretical praxis of its foundation. To speak in plain terms, it has copied the theories and practices of international modern neo-Nazi movements, especially North-American ones. A mixture of racialist theorization covered by a pseudo Catholic religiosity, which resembles much more a Protestant ethic hidden under a collective farce, and a poorly drawn prospect under a dis-formed agrarianism. As the article attempts to show, the latter continues as a strong component of Integralist ideology, although the first was vehemently rejected—especially by Plínio Salgado.
Much discussion about Fascism has been had lately. “What is Fascism’s definition?” “Is [X] representative of it?” Discussions like those are appreciated, but there is a lack on a grasp of social, political and economical processes. Processes which are meant to derestrict from simple to more complex historical forms and realities; processes which denominate turns and re-turns, in the ever devolving uncanonical pre-historical times of social-beings. Definitions are discussed; interpretations are made; individuals are judged and sentenced to their ideological commitment. But that is not enough: to interpose as interpreter of a specificity is to pose oneself as an ever-evolving knower, whose task remains to intent themselves over the essences and appearances of their non-compliant object of study. All ideologies, politically and socially determined, are not dependent on an individual’s whim: a concept can only be reflective of society if and only if it is derived from society itself—for the inverse relies on a method that abstracts the concept into the concrete. The history of Brazil1 is one of violence: indigenous submission, conquest, extraction of natural resources; the introduction of slavery, torture, servitude; destruction, enslavement, and blood. From colonial times, when the Portuguese followed a policy of exploration—unlike the British and theirs of occupation—to the Empire, where the introduction of a mass contingent of slaves happened under the watchful eyes of the central capitalist powers. As such, it ensured the country would be engineered itself into a machine capable of producing, en masse, enormous quantities of primary commodities (sugar cane, coffee, etcetera) that secured, too, the continuous and profitable exploitation of wage labour being developed inside the central powers; coffee would enable the 12 hours working days that tailed a surging working class from the heart of the industrialization process under the guidance of the personifications of Capital in its entirety—of a social metabolism actuated under over recurrent structures of civil society, as a whole, and its congruities.
Through the outright alliance of a landed quasi-aristocrat class with merchant capital of surging capitalism, an interdependent relation would establish the platypus that is Brazil. This, indeed, must be explained. It was not only an imperialist whim that enslaved people. The constituted ruling class, born out of the conquest of land—families that would be owners of whole states—and the institutions often referred to as “plantations” (gigantic monoculture properties) implied a two-edged knife of both national and international ruling classes that did not see each other as ‘enemies,’ but close correspondents. This is an important aspect of Brazilian society: since the dawn of colonial times, the emergence of a class society was entirely intertwined with that of Portugal’s own social stratification. Independence in 1822 did not set up a new society; only a new form of government was imposed (from the colonial-metropolis relation, to the constitution of a Brazilian Empire ruled by a Portuguese royal family!). The apparently diffuse colonial self-governance imbued in such a ruling class, with its political and economical [national] powers, rendered the ‘progressive’ forces of capitalism useless. With such a ruling class, dependent upon an economical totality based off agrarian structures, the ‘development’ of the productive forces that capital propelled had to be nationally stopped. No such thing could be allowed, for it would mean the disposition of such a class back into darkness while capital would make society shift itself from one based on agricultural structures into an industrialized one.
Integralism must be understood under such a hyper-late capitalism. Fascism to it, perhaps if one assumes the similarities to the fascio as the way to define it, was merely a reflexive mirage with its imagery (salutation, flag, clothing) as a transformation of the political into the ritualistic. A re-enactment, posed itself as a “populist” variation of the internal struggle, to class society through the introduction of a true meritocracy, where the ‘truly best’ would be seen as what they were. The ruling classes of the nation would be replaced by a more “able and ideologically definitive” structure of pure national strata: social classes as socialis organicum—native, grounded on the culture and lives of those brought up from a Godly soil and land. Their responsibility would lie in a direct struggle with modernity itself: capital, industry, urbanization, and both the rising Brazilian bourgeoisie and proletariat classes. At its core, the Integralist ideology had an agrarian utopia: defence of traditional catholic spiritualism, anti-materialism, open opposition to liberal democracy, and belief in corporatism. First, let us consider its catholic foundation: already in its birth-place, the Integralist movement delineates its reverence to a “real Christian Legacy,” fighting the “pagan tendencies” it saw within the Nazi-Fascism of Europe; their political philosophy was but a “spiritual realization of the Church through a corporatist state.” However, secondly, a corporatism entirely based on an alliance of a decentralized manufacturing mode of production guided by a centralized state. Such integral corporatist state should arise as a way to “evangelize” the proletarian masses, through the destruction of what they saw as “Godless syndicalist organization.” Their theory did not seek a harmony between the classes, but instead it sought to be an instrument for its realization—accomplished only because of the riddled spiritualization of politics as such. Integralism appropriates Catholicism to its own ends, justifying its positions through a claim of divine “right and authority,” but always constrained within a certain historically determined national mode of actuality. Nevertheless,
It is not accidental that the bourgeois form of nationalism can only be chauvinistic, which means simultaneously the necessary exclusion of the legitimate patriotism of the other nations. For capital either succeeds in dominating—both internally, its own labour force, and externally, the other nations with which it must periodically enter into major conflict—or it fails in exercizing its indivisible control over the social metabolism as strictly defined by its own systemic imperatives.2
Nationalism as an elemental political/ideological force capable of mobilizing (for better or worse) vast numbers of people, first appears with the bourgeoisie in its ascendancy. As such it greatly contributes to the successful breakthrough and progressive completion of the capitalist socioeconomic order.3
But—and here we must pay attention to the particularities of the formation of capital through the Colonial Way4—Integralist ideology refrained from assuming its birth in bourgeois society, rejecting the very same modernity which allowed the enclaves of thought to develop their own structures allowed a proper rejection—that of the bourgeois expansion: its own enemy was capital and capitalism proper. Nationalism, thus, was presented in such a fashion that its purpose was to defensively mobilize an agrarian working-class, singularly found within a totality determined through the inward ossification of agrarian[ism], against an imperial order of expansion and subjection. Yes, Integralism, for all of its rhetorical talking points and theorizations, was a reaction to imperialism: against capital (and socialism’s) “expansive action” as they saw fit to call it. But the primacy of the former was, perhaps, indeed a most convenient primacy.
Fascism, in its revolutionist programme revolved plausible bourgeois revolution, in the Classic manner, dislocated under the breath and weight of the Prussian Way. As its movement progressed, the concretion of German misery made itself evident in the implausibility of self-realizing capital without a contingent expansion: “It is the retort of the propertied interests to a democracy which seeks to transcend the relations of production implied in a capitalist society. But it is not merely the annihilation of democracy.”5 Beyond a mere abolishment of liberal democracy, effectively disabling the masquerade of rights and duties as safeguard into the political contingency of mere duties. Thus, its purpose enables, in hindsight, a perpetual state of exception that exponentially turned everyday life into a form of industrial militarism, “…the business interests have, in effect, conclude an alliance with some outstanding condottiere and his mercenaries who have agreed to suppress the workers’ power in exchange for the possession of the state.”6 As Laski continues, what the fascist purpose implied was an inherent demand to the “progress” of specific industrial segments with safety and distension for its unregulated distension: a pragmatic regressive identification which decreed itself through outward destitution and repression. And there, yet again, the Integralism of Plínio Salgado—and its ratification as the original party line within the Integralist movement in Brazil—opposed the incoherency and debility of the sublimation of an individual into a religious figure where
[a] conception of the Leader as a unique man—a semi-God or Odin’s reincarnation—and another of his adepts as inhuman and ultra-religious beings lacking, however, a sincere Christian core, go beyond the hypocritical line of old puritanism, where the overbearing of repression end up manifested as the negation of Virtue itself.7
Philosophically, such an ideology relied entirely on upholding intuition as the only means to arrive at truth. Only through the suspension of “Reason,” actualized by a divine Will, would the existing contradictions that hindered society, as they professed against the free rein of capital, be abolished. Intuition towards totality; instinctive action towards integration. Organic democracy would be their proposal—integration of all national social strata (hence the sigma as their symbol)—into reiteration of what was the fundamental sociability of fields and farms; collectively organizing corporations through religious activity, integrating their State with its people and their beliefs, against the secularism Perhaps, even the atheistic moralization of life, as the modus operandi of Liberal society, had turned religiosity into a mere figuring of life: turning the Word into adverb, devoid of connectivity between individuals, devoid of solidarity between social members of a social body, whose “organs” bled from the contiguous tendencies of decimation and destruction. A philosophy of Reason and Faith explicitly; any convenience of knowledge had to be understood as a product both of (re)action, which employed by the determinant of Reason had to attain a proximity with what Salgado proposed:8 existential conflict towards God. Integralism still presented, within its vocabulary of axioms, the philosophical necessity to develop knowledge of religiosity—the question of its inception, or continuity, was to be developed in an intelligible manner. The Fascist rejection of reason, of which its leaders attributed a negative or degenerating character, one of weakness and nihilism, allowed its own nihilism of reality to flourish and determine, intrinsically, that its heart lay nothing but a heartless identification of reality: “They do not need a philosophy to justify their conduct to themselves. Their practice is the simple one of taking what they can if they can get it.”9 What is philosophically unnecessary in Fascism becomes ontologically real for Integralism. Conditioning social life, as it were, under a state of permanent exception, allowing for the maintenance of order through decay and destruction; the repercussion of rejection of what is modern—in all of its forms and manners—necessitates a retrocession towards something complimentary to a previous real condition of life: a real condition of thought. And here the specificity amends its own position. Class conciliation would ensure, in their view, a natural tendency towards a perfect equilibrium of different social classes—of a ‘natural inequality’ so the earlier social totality, based on the powers of the plantation owning-class, would be re-constituted. Industrial capital was their enemy: the introduction of capitalism proper also meant the construction of the pathway to communism—a position shared by many fascist movements and parties; here would the precise conditioning of their rhetorical arsenal be found: Integralism was to be seen as a synthesis and not an extremist, counter-revolutionary political position. Such an ideology would only be realized only through a ‘spiritual revolution.’ Unbridled materialism, put forward by the development of the capitalist mode of production, could only be counteracted upon with an immaterial revolution; the restoration of society (the social organism that permeates all social-beings) should be done from its spiritual dimension, subsuming the concrete materialism of capitalism—and, of course, communism.)
But here a differentiation must be made: their corporatism was different from the model put forward by Fascism. For the latter, corporatism was meant to realize the potentiality of production through industrialization within its own society, but the former saw ‘corporatism’ as being inspired and reflected in the catholic inspiration of the medieval era. Such state organization was meant to create corporations with the goal to order the people’s moral, professional and political representation, but their purpose was clear: to restrain the development of the capitalist mode of production—to stop it from growing its ‘nefarious roots’ within society. Here, the spectre of the Other takes the form of industrial capital (a foreign social order), and not a displaced subject that develops no roots whatsoever, forever floating within society as a ‘parasite.’ To Integralist ideology, it was the foreign social and economic system which ought to be seen as the parasitic threat to itself. But let’s regress into a recollection on capital:
Capital is not simply a material entity. We must think of capital as a historically determinate way of controlling social metabolic reproduction. That is the fundamental meaning of capital. It penetrates everywhere. Of course, capital is also a material entity; gold, banking, price mechanisms, market mechanisms, etc.10
Their demand would be heavily implicated in the form of a need for a ‘strong’ state, representing a strong bourgeois demand for autocracy, given the atrophic developmental condition of capital in such a country. The “Colonial Way,” characteristic of the historical praxis of Brazil’s national colonial ruling class, would determine itself through the ideology of Integralism in the form of a passive and conservative revolution of the production and social orders. Through its own ideological politicization of a non-defined class representation, the party was always-already accompanied by a national ruling class who could not, would not, and had not decided itself. With such false politicizing of action within a romantic anti-industrial and anti-capitalist theory, the agrarian ruling classes were led to find such an insertion of their interests into the masses to be the ‘kick-start’ they needed to uphold their own class position as such. But the ‘organic’ development of international capital, the structural tendency within society itself, is to allow—through exploitation, private property and the market—a primitive accumulation of capital. The rising industrial bourgeoisie would have to meet with pure force—thus the need for this ideological apparatus—in the theory and praxis of Integralism. Ultimately, much is argued with regard to the essence of such a social model of politics and organization. Was it a form of Fascism, painted with the greenness of Brazil? Here we must observe the history of Fascism itself to draw conclusions. Michał Kalecki described that Fascism concentrates, through its coalition with industrial business leaders, maintaining an appearance of full employment within the arms’ industry:
[…] ‘[D]iscipline in the factories’ and ‘political stability’ under full employment are maintained by the ‘new order’, which ranges from suppression of the trade unions to the concentration camp. Political pressure replaces the economic pressure of unemployment.11
German industrialization occurred in a late epoch, in comparison to the other central European countries. But even then, the remnants of the past feudal property of land were subsumed through the development of the industrial productive relations. The loosening of the Junker’s economical and political powers were made possible by the superimposition of the continuous development of industrial capital. Europe’s capitalism was already entering a ‘third industrial revolution’ in the 1950s, when Brazilian industrialization was being formally crystallized. The triad of late capitalist development (Germany, Italy, and Japan), with its fascistic passive revolution: conservative modernization of social and productive structures, propelled by the marrying of state and private investments in the Armaments sector of the economy), demanded the concentration of capital in the armaments industry and its expansion—a condition which for Fascism was essential; a condition that would not be found in Integralist ideology. War was the goal of Fascism because only through the engagement in ‘destructive creation’ would such a system be able to support itself. As such, Fascism was a highly aggressive—in the expansionist sense—ideology and political movement with a definite state apparatus. Only by conquest, political control could have been kept in their hands; through conquest, it could be made possible for the justification of an exercise of indiscriminate power, with no boundaries: “They have to make civil war permanent within[their own society] in order to maintain their power; they have to make international war permanent without in order to prevent their defeat in that civil war.”12 Internalizing the immense disruption of proper life, through its militarization, paved the proper option of a resemblance of life as only attainable through externalized terror. Through war, the executioner becomes an appendix to victory; through terror, the executioner attends to his own wounds: the expansionism of conquest leads itself astray, for strict focus on a military-industrial complex maintains merely a façade of life. It ensures the terror of famine through the terror of war, sustaining itself through forced and disposable labour which never lays itself down, or finds any rest in life. Destruction, as the progress of redemption towards misery and scarcity. But the same cannot be said about Integralism.13 The whole-hearted rejection of industry meant that, especially, the armaments sector of it would also be rejected. Their view on the matter of expansionism was not the same as it was for the fascists of Europe. To put it plainly: it was believed that Brazil’s population was ‘peaceful’ and ‘coherently’ developed as to not engage in senseless wars against its neighbours. However, a point of divergence must be taken into account: even Fascism declared War to be against war altogether. But one must analyse their actions and not their words: the re-armament of their respective countries—the full-out preparation for war and the conquest of small states—made the distinction clear.
Even then, through a historical analysis, we can see that Integralism went on, during the 1930s, to support both Germany and Italy in their war of aggression. However, their position was not to engage the Allies, but to provide the necessary supplies to the Axis themselves. Getúlio Vargas, the then dictator of Brazil, used the war (and its prelude) as a means to ensure a position of demand for Brazil: the country would flirt with whomever provided the necessary financial investment in the development of the national Brazilian industrial sector—a move that hindered the Integralists’ position of non-compliance. They, although only a small portion of the whole movement itself, would try to enact a coup d’etat, with the only purpose of deposing Vargas and declaring Brazil as a supplier and plausible ally of the Axis powers. Internal struggle, factional advance: it was the heavy attempt to influence the local party functionality within the Integralist movement, by the Nazi-fascist governments of Europe, that an ignoble alliance arose as a way out. However, their attempt would result in failure, turning Brazil itself against both Integralism and Fascism. Its result sealed a government push of distrust and dismissal of such political positions. There, it could be said that the particular similarities of both ideologies ‘integrated’ them into a single ideological and political category. Nonetheless, both sections of this fusion would endure the instant repression and only one would stand behind the Vargas government—for its nature of establishing the necessary steps towards national integration was the most important process for the constitution of their national identity and reference of a properly “organic Nation.”14
The particularities of both Fascism and Integralism are exactly what make them not the same.15 For their apparent aggression against Brazil’s government could only come about after reassigning the hold of a rising national industrial bourgeoisie that had already grasped the economic potentiality inherent to its country. Integralism allied itself with Fascism, as a way to gather support against the development of the productive forces pushed forward by industrialization—which had become Vargas’ (and the class he politically represented) plan for the economical and social “development” of Brazil. Identification to an ideal categorization to subsume such particularities is how Liberal ideology works—under a ‘Weberian’ lens. By this view, one must not consider those particularities, nor the singularities of these political movements; we must, instead, hold them under the same overarching banner—that of Totalitarianism. That is not to say that Integralism did not drive towards totality; it did, but even then in a backwards direction, not towards the overcoming of class struggle provoked by the intensification of the production processes and the corresponding social relations. No, we must analyse history as history; it is through the complete analysis of concrete specifications that one is able to decide the exact place of such societal reality which perpetrated itself in a particular political organization: “[…] the concrete analysis of the concrete situation is not the opposite of ‘pure’ theory; on the contrary, it is the culmination of all genuine theory, its consummation, the point where it therefore breaks into practice.”16
One cannot engage in social processes by “coming down” from an overarching abstract “idea” to a relativist “concreteness” of society itself. A method of analysis has to base itself on an objectivity of not only material social relations, but their subjective part. Contemporaneity has turned Fascism into a metaphysical category. All of human history can be superimposed with this category: “…the birth of Fascism can be found within Plato’s writings.” Of course, such a place deprives the word of its own historical roots—of the social and political struggles it was defined by. Erasing history is a part-time job for liberal ideology: suspension of historical reality, with all of its weight, into an all-encompassing abstract ‘concept.’ It turns history into a categorization of mere words, but words deprived of any theoretical and practical substance. Integralism was anti-capitalist, in the most reactionary way, but in the exact meaning of the word: reaction counter-acting a trend, a process that appears to be developing, coming to be. It was also Romantic, in that it retained the past of Brazilian Colonial society as an “organic social body that was able to integrate all of its population.” It rejected liberal democracy and had a general disdain to Liberalism, as the political and economic ideology of capital. Such was the movement of Integralism in Brazil. Its positions would combine a formulaic way to stand against the objectification of capitalist relations, in a society that did not abolish the structures of past colonial times embedded with subjugation, slavery and genocide.
Growth and expansion are inner necessities of the capitalist system of production and when the local limits are reached there is no other way out except by violently readjusting the existing relation of forces. The relative stability of the leading capitalist countries—Britain, France, and the United States—was in the past inseparable from their ability to export the aggressiveness and the violence internally generated by their systems. Their weaker partners— Germany, Italy, and others—after the First World War found themselves in the middle of a grave social crisis and only the fascist promise of a radical readjustment of the established relation of forces could bring a temporary solution acceptable to the bourgeoisie, through diverting the pressures of internal aggressiveness and violence into the channels of a massive preparation for a new world war. The small capitalist countries, on the other hand, simply had to subordinate themselves to one of the great powers and follow the policies dictated by them, even at the price of chronic instability.17
And so it was. Integralism, the late reaction to a late capitalist development, was instituted as a sociopolitical movement with the pretension to engage the masses. But the impossibility to stop the development of the capitalist mode of production would ensure that it, as a force within society, would not be able to take the reins of a platypus society—a society that carries the most advanced relations of production put forward by capital, while it retains the most retrograde and reactionary slavery-like and serf-like relations: “[…] Integralism, affronted with a world in radical crises and transformations, catastrophically reads the world’s evolution, and within its colonial fragility, proposes a retrocession.”18 This was the concern of Integralism and an essential difference between itself and the European movements. Historical analysis of the inner processes of the becoming of capitalist society and its social reconstruction is a must. One should not forget that social processes within the bourgeois structures of liberal democracy are not bound by the same linear development or continuity. Brazil’s colonial history provided the birth place for an ideology that based itself on the vision of “turning back time itself”; at its core, agrarianism represented the ruling classes’ lusting for times of enslavement, without the need for actual slavery—rather, a servitude to be enacted. As an ideology, it posited the possibility for the lingering undemocratic view of a national stratum that relied on entirely, too, super-exploration of a working class, subjectively and objectively violated through its historical existence. Its will was nothing more than to grip society into a totality of agrarianism, retorted only under the spiritual unity of corporal organicism. Fascism and Integralism stand together in their dissonance, however in opposite directions: as forms of re-enactment without the struggles capital’s social metabolic development imposed; within regression, without progression. For Integralism could only have come from within a society constrained by unresolved aneurysms, uniting the receding continuity of “Order and Progress.”
1 Theorizations on the socio-political-economic formations of Brazil—its historical and logical ways—are discussed in these books:
- BORONOV, David. The Abolition of Slavery in Brazil: The Liberation of Africans Through the Emancipation of Capital. London: Greenwood Press, 2000;
- CHASIN, José. A miséria brasileira [The Brazilian Misery]. Santo André: Ad Hominem, 2000;
- _____. O Integralismo de Plínio Salgado: forma de regressividade no capitalismo hiper-tardio [The Integralism of Plínio Salgado: hyper-late capitalism’s regressive form]. São Paulo: Ciências Humanas, 1978;
- FERNANDES, Florestan. A Revolução Burguesa no Brasil: ensaio de interpretação sociológica [The Bourgeois Revolution in Brazil: a sociological interpretation essay]. São Paulo: Globo, 2006;
- _____. Capitalismo dependente e classes sociais na América Latina [Dependent Capitalism and Social Classes in Latin America]. Rio de Janeiro: Zahar, 1972;
- FURTADO, Celso. Economic Development of Latin America. Cambridge: Cambridge University press, 1970;
- MANOEL CARDOSO DE MELLO, João. O capitalismo tardio [Late Capitalism]. São Paulo: Brasiliense, 1982;
- MAZZEO, Antonio Carlos. Estado e Burguesia no Brasil [State and Bourgeoisie in Brazil]. São Paulo: Boitempo, 2015;
- OLIVEIRA, Francisco. Crítica à razão dualista: o ornitorrinco [Critique to a Dualistic Reason: The Platypus]. São Paulo: Boitempo, 2003;
- PRADO JUNIOR, Caio. Formação do Brasil contemporâneo [The Colonial Background of Modern Brazil]. 6th edition. São Paulo, Brasiliense, 1961;
- _____. História econômica do Brasil [Economic History of Brazil]. São Paulo: Brasiliense, 1985;
- RIBEIRO, Darcy. O povo brasileiro: a formação e o sentido do Brasil [The Brazilian People: The Formation and Meaning of Brazil]. 2nd edition. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1995.
2 MÉSZÁROS, István. The Power of Ideology. London: Zed Books, 2005, pp. 31.
3 Ibid., pp. 359.
4 The “Colonial Way” is a category of analysis derived from the logic-historic development of capital within “former” colonial societies—particularly Brazil, in this case. “Classical way,” “the Prussian way,” “German misery,” “Passive revolution,” etcetera, are categories of analysis that pertain, too, to the apprehensive apparatus presented through the “Colonial Way’s” category. A more thorough article shall be written on the subject.
5 LASKI, Harold J. Reflections on the revolution in our time. London: George Allen & Unwin Ltd., 1943, pp. 95.
6 Ibid.
7 SALGADO, Plínio. Palavra Nova dos Tempos Novos [New Word of New Times]. Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio Editora, 1936, pp. 128.
8 Plínio Salgado was the most prominent philosophical and political leader of the Brazilian Integralist Action, standing as its ideological centre throughout the first half of the twentieth century. He stood against a clearly internationalist alignment towards Fascism expounded, for example, by Gustavo Dodt Barroso, whose influence relied upon forms of racialism and anti-Semitism, had been rejected by Salgado, which he regarded as being in opposition to the social doctrine of Christianity.
9 LASKI, 1943, pp. 107-108.
10 MÉSZÁROS, István. The Challenge and Burden of Historical Time. New York: Monthly Review Press, 2008, pp. 75.
11 Cf. KALECKI, Michał. Political Aspects of Full Employment. 1943, pp. 4. Available at «http://delong.typepad.com/kalecki43.pdf». Accessed April 2017.
12 LASKI, 1943, pp. 112.
13 Cf. CHASIN, José. O integralismo de Plínio Salgado [The Integralism of Plínio Salgado]. São Paulo: Ciências Humanas, 1978. Chasin was concerned with ideological formations within Brazilian society, throughout the 20th century. His body of work, based on a Marxian and Lukácsian theoretical framework, dwells in the specificities of Brazilian society—its particularities with the development of hyper-late capital—grounded not only on a sociological and political analysis but also on a philosophical one as well.
14 For this, only would only to follow the letters and pronunciations done by Plínio Salgado regarding the failed “putsch” and the subsequent fate of his own movement. Cf. CHASIN, José. O Integralimso de Plínio Salgado [The Integralism of Plínio Salgado]. São Paulo: Ciências Humanas, 1978, pp. 165-176.
15 CHASIN, José. O integralismo não é um Fascismo [Integralism Is Not a Fascism]. Entrevista de J. Chasin a G. Bittencourt. Folha de S. Paulo, 25 dez. 1977.
16 LUKÁCS, Georg. Imperialism: World War and Civil War. In: Lenin: A Study on the Unity of His Thought, 1924. Available at «https://www.marxists.org/archive/lukacs/works/1924/lenin/ch04.htm». Accessed April 2017.
17 MÉSZÁROS, István. Marx’s Theory of Alienation. Merlin Press: London, 1970, pp. 310.
18 CHASIN, 1978, pp. 651.
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Bunker within Reason 