Capoeira: a Movement Beyond that of Dance
Most of us, though we may not like to admit it, like to boogie a little now and then, unless perhaps we are inherently powerless in the face of rhythm. Now wonder with me; can it be that this little shimmying and boogieing called ‘dance’ plays an intrinsic part in a movement speaking not only to swaying our limbs, but to resistance, hope, and empowerment? It would probably take more than a hip-shake to create a wave of political uprising, and that is precisely what the martial dance capoeira—from the lands of Bahia—has done. Exponentially more than a shake of a hip, the Brazilian dance-fighting game once provided an escape for West African slaves and has evolved to combat racism and unleash a long kindling fury.
There follows an enigmatic history with this dance, as does with anything so powerfully rebellious. Travel back to sixteenth century Brazil, when Portuguese colonists arrived, lavishly dressed, in ships with thousands of West African slaves aboard. Unbeknownst to slaveowners, along with them traveled their rich culture that would supply the tools for the birth of capoeira. Shackled to a foreign country and ruled by strangers, the African slaves were forbidden from practicing self-defense (god forbid they muster the power to revolt for freedom). It is from these very ropes of restriction that capoeira blossomed into existence.
Exponentially more than a shake of a hip, the fight dance game of Brazil once provided an escape for West-African slaves.
Masquerading as a dance, the slaves practiced martial arts through capoeira, cheating the laws imposed upon them. Ultimately, they cleverly wielded this clandestine power to escape and rebel in groups called quilimbos outside of Portuguese control. As the slave population grew, so did their cultural prominence, and the harder it became for authorities to control it. Capoeira burgeoned into a movement seemingly impossible to destroy. But where along this turbulent history did the once-surreptitious street game, with its rather violent boogieing, become a traditional dance form?
Nineteenth century Brazil saw a population explosion due to urbanization, and inevitably an eruption of crime. The dance-fight capoeira, laden with aggressive moves, served as an ideal weapon for unlawful activity and was soon rampant among gangs and criminals. As these deceptive dancers continued to raid the cities, a nationwide ban of capoeira duly followed in 1890. A critical moment in the history of capoeira, the criminalization of capoeira tested its strength to persist through time. The survival of the dance is often traced back to Mestre Bimba, who revolutionized capoeira’s reputation. Opening the first capoeira dance school, Mestre Bimba mandated a no-nonsense policy and raised his standards to establish it as a sophisticated practice. Soon enough, upper-class Brazilians could no longer stick their noses in the air without escaping a whiff of capoeira.
Capoeira was not just a creative outlet, but a necessity, a voice.
On September 24 2019, Wash U had its very own demonstration of Afro-Brazillian music and dance by Mestre Claudio, a known figure in the capoeira community from Bahia, facilitated by our ethnomusicology professor Dr. Kurtz. In his lecture, Mestre Claudio said that though he never received a formal education, this art form gave him more than he would have ever attained elsewhere. To him, capoeira was not just a creative outlet, but a necessity, a voice. The dance has evidently played such a critical role of representation in Afro-Brazillian politics. Mestre Claudio firmly believed that no one who engaged in the practice of capoeira could harbor racist prejudices. Certain conversations arise regarding cultural appropriation displayed by the practice of capoeira by non-Blacks in the Brazilian society—and sentiments about the purpose of the martial dance are conflicting—but the dance’s political significance is undeniable.
Capoeira is more than a recreational activity; rather, it is a movement that weaves together a story narrating issues ranging from socioeconomic status to racism in our society. Under Brazil’s current president, Jair Bolsonaro, the struggle has only worsened. Just as of 2018, eminent master of capoeira, Moa do Katendê, was murdered in Bolsonaro’s name. Bolsonaro’s extremism fails to align with the egalitarian attitudes capoeira represents.
Nevertheless, with a history running deep in racism, and in a far from perfect world, capoeira remains a politically powerful movement in Brazil. I find a sublime beauty in the power of art to advocate social justice. This dance has provided more than a facet to the Brazilian culture; it has fostered a sense of community. The capoeiristas of Brazil have taken on a national challenge in their stride and are using their bodies to fight for change.
To me, that’s pretty darn cool.
Continuing a dance fight that began many moons ago, practitioners are still fighting for equality, still dancing in the name of justice. Having withstood the test of time, the test of prohibition, capoeira seems to have cemented itself into the fabric of the Brazilian society—and having succeeded in spurring a transformation once before, there’s no saying it can’t be done again.