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Eian Prohl 12/13/10 A Review Essay: Rio de Janeiro's Favelas The urban poor and working classes of Rio

de Janeiro, Brazil largely call the city's favelas home. Favelas are shantytowns that in Rio de Janeiro are often built upon the hills that rise abruptly above the city. The wealth divide cannot be missed in Rio because favelas often exist in surreal proximity to Rio's plush high-rise communities. Residents of favelas are crucial to Rio's economy because they act as an endless supply of cheap labor to the formal economy while simultaneously driving the informal economy, upon which the former depends. In keeping with the slum dwellers' role in perpetuating the socioeconomic inequality of Brazil, the beneficiary public is generally content in maintaining the status quo. State initiatives to "deal" with the favelas have occurred, however. These campaigns have included an eradication initiative in the late 1960s and several small gentrification programs through the 1980s and 1990s, including most significantly the Favela-Bairro program initiated in 1994 (Soares and Soares 2005:3). Beginning in the mid 1980s, Brazil became a major transshipment point for cocaine destined for Europe and North America (Arias and Rodrigues 2006:61). As Rio's informal economy became dominated by drug trafficking, favela residents' associations and local leadership fell to heavily armed and organized factions that were fighting for safe territory from which to traffic drugs (Sheriff 2010). The violence between mega-gangs was compounded by one of the most corrupt and deadly police forces in the world. Rio's police force, largely organized at the state level, includes the military police, the civil police, and Special Forces from both organizations. As urban violence intensified in Rio following the incursion of drug

trafficking, extrajudicial police violence also soared: Between 1999 and 2005, police killings rose 280% (Ramos 2006:420). In 2007 alone, Rio's police officially murdered 1330 civilians (Lethal Force 2009:1), a nearly 4-fold increase from 1995. Police invasions into favelas have typically occurred as short, brutal nighttime raids; often these raids are retaliation for police deaths or punishment for someone not meeting the stipulations of their bribes (Sheriff 2010). However, there have been notable exceptions to quick-hitting bloodbaths. Sheriff (2001:225) notes that police and military presence in and around favelas intensified before the International Earth Summit being held in Rio in 1992. In October 1994, "Operation Rio" was instituted in response to concern over corruption within the state-controlled police following the murders of 13 favela residents (Penglase 2007:315). What began as the federal Army addressing police corruption quickly shifted to an operation against drug gangs. For the first time, the state occupied five favelas for substantial period of time (Penglase 2007:317). Given the conspicuous military and police presence before ECO-92, it should come as no surprise that a major initiative aimed at the favelas has recently been launched in preparation for Rio's 2014 hosting of the World Cup and 2016 hosting of the Olympic Games. This essay will review two early reports involving the latest campaign against drug trafficking in Rio's favelas. A May 2010 article in The Nation entitled, "Retaking Rio" provides an apt balance of police and favela resident interviews to paint a picture of what was happening in the opening stages of the operation in early 2010. A December 9, 2010 article in the New York Times examines the aftermath of the police takeover of the Complexo do Alemo favela on November 28th. Moving from the present, this essay will review two scholarly viewpoints on favela resident interaction with drug traffickers in an effort to understand why traffickers are able

to maintain control despite the increasing levels of violence within the communities. Finally, two reports on Rio's police will be reviewed in an effort to establish what can be done to end their notorious corruption and violence. Together, these articles will facilitate a fuller evaluation of the current operation to retake Rio's slums. Christian Parenti, author of "Retaking Rio," holds a PhD in sociology from the London School of Economics and is a visiting scholar at CUNY Graduate Center. Although his credentials imply that he is qualified to publish in the scholarly realm, Parenti focuses on reporting events as they happen. Parenti spent two weeks in Rio visiting favelas and interviewing police to write "Retaking Rio." He captures his reader by beginning his coverage in Rio from a police helicopter from which he is getting a tour of the city and a description of the state's new "pacification" campaign. Parenti says the plan is to invade favelas with Special Forces, secure the favelas by arresting drug traffickers and seizing arms, and finally to install a full compliment of government services, including health clinics, schools, permanent police stations, and civil courts. Parenti, who has extensive experience reporting from Iraq and Afghanistan, notes that this strategy is very similar to U.S. and NATO forces' counterinsurgency techniques. Parenti suggests government sincerity in following through with its plan to provide social services because of the new economic context of Brazil in which neoliberal polices and ideology are being abandoned. He underscores that between 1980 and 1990, when Rio's favela population grew by 41%, "Brazilian society was wracked by IMF-sponsored structural adjustment programs, which cut state spending, increased unemployment, and spurred further migration from the countryside to urban slums." Although he does not support the assertion, Parenti suggests that this rapid migration caused by the adoption of neoliberal polices strained relations

within the favela. Parenti's interviews demonstrate his training as a sociologist, as they are substantive and revealing. The favela of Tabajaras de Botafogo had been occupied for a week when Parenti conducted interviews in late February 2010. While clearly aware of the limitations of a two-week study period, he concludes that although "everyone agreed that the police are too violent and indiscriminate," as far as their outlook on the occupation was concerned, "working classes seemed pitted against the young and unemployed" (20). Several interviews are used to evidence this developing class division. Parenti reasons that pacification and urbanization are appealing to those who own land because they predict that their property will accrue value. Additionally, he speculates that formerly pirated utilities will likely now be charged for under the closer watch of the government, which is seen as problematic for the unemployed who stand to lose some conveniences. Tellingly, Parenti remarks that efforts of the pacification campaign are concentrated around the World Cup venues in the southern zone of the city. This makes readers question the motives underlying the campaign: What will happen after 2014? On what scale is the Brazilian government committed to improving the lives of Rio's urban poor and working classes? Parenti addresses some of these questions in closing with what initially seems like a sanguine perspective; he mentions the 21 million who have been lifted out of poverty since 2003 and President Lula's sincerity. However, he cites police corruption and the daunting scale of the project in concluding: "At best, pacification in Rio will create a cordon sanitaire of tamed favelas in Rio's Zona Sul" (21).

Alexei Barrionuevo, reporting on the situation in Complexo do Alemo following the police takeover, paints a picture of suspicion and corruption that nonetheless provides reason to hope. Barrionuevo is the Southern Cone bureau chief for the New York Times, based in Rio. He began his career in 1993 and holds an undergraduate degree in political science. Barrionuevo opens with a powerful scene: Rio's security chief, Jos Mariano Beltrame, who has called Alemo and nearby slums the "heart of evil," is strolling the streets while stone-faced residents stare. According to Barrionuevo, "the vast majority of Rio's residents here support the program [to pacify the favelas]" Yet, Barrionuevo is not clear if he is speaks of a public opinion poll or his own perception, nor if he refers to all of Rio or only Alemo. In any case, Barrionuevo's narrative supplies abundant evidence that Rio's notoriously corrupt police officers have not been substantially reformed. For instance, the lack of cash that has been recovered from the community despite the huge quantities of drugs and firearms recovered is said to be fueling broad suspicions that the police pocketed it for themselves. Barrionuevo tells of a 54-year-old mother who confronted Rio's security chief with a story that a military police officer had pinned her against her own kitchen and demanded her son's money. Another source of suspicion is that despite the community being surrounded by 2,600 policemen and troops, almost all of the drug traffickers escaped; residents have reported that police drove traffickers out of the community in squad cars before the raid. More positively, this likely contributed to the peaceful invasion of the community that occurred without a single fatality. Barrionuevo does include several lines of evidence that suggest good cops, or at the very

least, PR-savvy cops, may be a substantial segment of the force, particularly at the higher levels. For example, in response to resident complaints of stealing, military police have been banned from wearing backpacks. A police cruiser also roams the streets with a megaphone directing residents to report police mistreatment at official stations set up within the community. Popular sources have several major advantages over scholarly journals. The first is the speed at which they are published, often within hours for news as opposed to years in the case of scholarly work. Freed from many scholarly conventions, popular authors are free to write in a more informal style, especially those writing for a magazine. Christian Parenti's article, in particular, felt that it rivaled the substance of scholarly work while retaining the captivating nature of good magazine writing. Another aspect of popular sources is that they usually don't have a thesis, and thus don't rigorously defend a thesis. This means that often the interpretation is left up to the reader; nonetheless, reporters are able to construct their articles so as to support their preferred conclusion. Thus, there is the danger in popular sources of feigned impartially. This is compounded by the lack of citation. In both articles presented here, particularly Parenti's, "facts" that would always be cited in scholarly sources were ascribed to no one.

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Given that the state has largely been absent from favelas, with the exception of terrorizing police raids rife with extrajudicial killings, what is the established order in favelas now that drug trafficking dominates the informal economy? In other words, what system must police and military personnel overthrow in order to implement their 2010 pacification campaign?

Published in the May 2009 Political and Legal Anthropology Review, Ben Penglase's "States of Insecurity: Everyday Emergencies, Public Secrets, and Drug Trafficker Power in a Brazilian Favela" examines how traffickers and state actors purposely create disorder, secrecy, and ambiguity to maintain their power. A cultural anthropologist at Loyola University Chicago, Penglase conducted his ethnographic research in two segments during 1998-1999 and 2001 in a favela in northern Rio he calls Caxambu. In arguing that traffickers and state actors purposely alternate between states of security and insecurity, Penglase initially remarks that he is drawing upon the ideas of Agamben and Taussig, in their 2005 and 1999 works. Thus begins a lengthy review of related literature, punctuated by several restatements of his thesis, which are often difficult to distinguish from the theses he presents of other scholars. Thus, if it wasn't clear in his immediate credit to Agamben and Taussig, Penglase's introduction firmly establishes that he will be making a fine distinction from previously published works. Penglase introduces two models for understanding how favela traffickers are able to maintain power. The first model emphasizes a reciprocal relationship in which the traffickers provide security to the residents in exchange for their silence surrounding illegal activity; this arrangement is known as the lei do morro (law of the hillside). This model, which Penglase ascribes to Elizabeth Leeds and Donna Goldstein, emphasizes that the arbitrariness and violence of the military police, in addition to the residents' perception that access to basic democratic services, such as a justice system, are not available to them, enables traffickers to provide an alternative system that residents accept as the lesser of two evils. A second model, ascribed by Penglase to Desmond Arias and Michel Misse, emphasizes that traffickers maintain power in the

favelas by tapping into networks with state actors and other criminal organizations, particularly corrupt police and politicians. Penglase notes that both models emphasize that the state plays a critical role in maintaining trafficker prominence in the favelas. In making a distinction between his thesis and the network model, Penglase states that while his research in Caxambu has shown that disorder and insecurity are often purposely created, he believes the network model presents insecurity and violence as a breakdown of order that occurs when networks fail or traffickers violate their own rules due to self-interest. It is not clear, however, if Penglase is making a distinction from Leeds and Goldstein, or if his thesis is intended to compliment theirs. Stories from Caxambu interspersed with Penglase's analyses make up most of the remainder of the article. While interesting, Penglase's stories and analyses are not organized in any discernable way, and provide support for both the reciprocal and network models, as well as his own assertion, at various times. This suggests that his claim that traffickers deliberately produce disorder, insecurity, and ambiguity is not to be understood as a refutation of either model. Penglase recounts several personal experiences that are insightful examples of life on the hill. He stresses that it begins at the top, with the dono do morro, or chief trafficker. Caxambu had a good dono named D, who while affiliated with the CV, had grown up in the Caxambu and cared for the community. For instance, Penglase notes D was said not to use drugs himself, to negotiate with the police based on the interests of the community, and to discourage young boys from entering the drug trade. Penglase also indicates that D was the exception rather than the rule; very few donos were from the community in the late 1990s. Despite Caxambu being a

relatively peaceful community, Penglase skillfully shows that the uncertainty of the arrangement was at times crushingresidents were terrified of being invaded by a rival drug gang and knew that D could be arrested or killed at any moment. Penglase also introduces the anxiety that existed in Caxambu about being erroneously or maliciously identified as an informant or "X-9." While these uncertainties and their tangible effects on the community are indisputable, they can hardly be argued as deliberate constructions by D to maintain power. Indeed, Penglase does not appear to be using these uncertainties as evidence of his thesis. How then do traffickers purposely create disorder, uncertainty, and ambiguity? The crux of his argument appears to be a matter of intent on the part of the traffickers; he notes, "they also occasionallysometimes deliberately, sometimes 'accidentally'violate the very rules that they institute" (55). By curiously placing the accidental violation of rules in quotation, Penglase seems to be at once recognizing the network model while questioning its interpretation of the traffickers' intent. In summary, while Penglase provides many insights into life in a favela, he consistently struggles to elucidate his argument. In the end, it appears Penglase is attempting to bolster the reciprocal theory while providing an asterisk to the network theory based on disputed trafficker intent.

A 2006 publication in Latin American Politics and Society, Desmond Enrique Arias and Corinne Davis Rodrigues' "The Myth of Personal Security: Criminal Gangs, Dispute Resolution, and Identity in Rio de Janeiro's Favelas" examines how traffickers maintain local support in favelas in the face of the overwhelming violence that their business brings to the community. As an Associate Professor of Political Science at John Jay College of CUNY, Desmond Arias'

specialty is security and politics in developing societies. Rodrigues, on the other hand, is an Associate Professor in the Department of Sociology and Anthropology at the Universidade Federal de Minas Gerais. They use their combined three-and-a-half years of field experience in five Rio favelas between 1997 and 2001which they identify as Rocinha, Vigrio Geral, Tubaro, Cuezinho, and Santa Ana (the latter three being pseudonyms)to provide specific examples of trafficker and resident interaction to show how traffickers skillfully create a "myth of personal security" in which residents believe they can guarantee their own safety. The researchers note their methodology's limitations due to the considerable variation among favelas in Rio, and advise that their findings not be indiscriminately applied to all the other favelas in the city. In their introduction, Arias and Rodrigues step back and make two powerful statements regarding favelas. The first is that residents have had little choice but to live in these dangerous places and the majority of residents work regularly outside the drug trade. Secondly, favelas are foremost a failure of civil society to provide basic services for a large segment of the population. With this said, the authors delve into their "myth of personal security." They suggest that it is basic human nature to find ways not to be marginal, and that establishing one's nonmarginality is often through the marginalization of other people. Thus, within the favela, very clear distinctions are made between the levels of respect residents deserve. One ex-trafficker informant in Tubaro put it this way: "the basis of the law [of the hill] is your respect in the communityrespect is based on whether you drink, smoke, or sniff in public or go after women who aren't your own Those who do not do these things earn the respect of other residents" (64). Arias and Rodrigues note that their own observations concur with this assessment.

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Arias and Rodrigues then argue, largely using interviews with informants, that traffickers largely abide by this system of respect in administering justice. A resident is said to be more likely to be punished severely if he or she is marginalized within the community. Residents are said to be more tolerant of murders of marginalized residents, largely because they make sense of them"he was killed because he was a drunk"and use this logic to feel secure as long as they maintain their respect. Arias and Rodrigues also argue that traffickers maintain this sense of judicial order by usually enforcing norms only after examining both sides of the story and giving serious consideration. One informant puts it like this: He [the trafficker] is going to analyze [the case] and see who is right and who is wrong he is going to see and argue, this, this, and this happened. And he is going to try and find out with the other person [involved in the case] what is going onwithin his judgment and from hearing from other people, he is going to analyze [the case] (67) The researchers then transition away from these qualities of trafficker predictability: "Although residents have clear ideas about these rules and how and when they are applied, actual enforcement often directly contradicts residents' expressed understandings" (68). This is the moment that Arias and Rodrigues explain personal security is a myth in favelas because trafficker violence often falls outside the norms they work to establish. This can occur when traffickers pass judgment based on personal connections or when stray bullets from their violence murder well-respected residents. The authors use the aftermath of the police massacre in Vigrio Geral, in addition to five other vignettes of traffickers being forced to comply with resident demands, to argue that drug traffickers face serious challenges to their power when they fail to control violence to residents' satisfaction. Arias and Rodrigues explain that the massacre at Vigrio Geral occurred when the police, seeking retaliation for the murders of their officers by traffickers, invaded the favela and

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murdered 21 residents, many young children, none traffickers. The traffickers, in fact, had fled the community beforehand in anticipation of the police invasion. In response, Arias and Rodrigues say that residents turned on traffickers and "took their weapons from their hands, and threw them on the ground" (74). They then organized to promote peace and exiled the traffickers to other parts of the city, where "within a year and without the protection afforded by the community, most were murdered by the police" (74). Notably, all vignettes are made without citation, despite their frequent occurrence outside the fieldwork period of the authors. In concluding, Arias and Rodrigues' argument becomes clearly distinct from that of Penglase. Where Penglase emphasized the crushing uncertainty of life on the hill, Arias and Rodrigues emphasize that favela residents largely feel their security is in their own hands. Where Penglase argued the breakdown of order is a calculated effort by traffickers, Arias and Rodrigues argue a breakdown in order occurs when traffickers overstep their bounds and residents revolt. Interestingly, both articles suggest that the increasing violence within the favelas may be due to a turnover of leadership within the gangs and the installment of donos with decreasing concern for the community and maintaining order. Perhaps the most significant unity that can be found between these scholarly works is that both present trafficker rule within the favelas as tenuous. Together, these works make clear that the key element in the equation is the police, and the impression given is that this is widely accepted among scholars. Even the former head of the military police in Rio has stated that police corruption and involvement in organized crime is the "greatest weapon that organized crime has at its disposal to allow it to operate freely" (Arias and Rodrigues 2006:54). Thus, the question to answer about the 2010 pacification campaign is not whether the residents are ready for change but whether the police have changed.

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Both scholarly sources were long and detailed in comparison to the popular sources used previously. The methodology of both articles seemed adequate, as they had at least 18 months of fieldwork as their basis. As far as the construction of the articles, the article by Arias and Rodrigues was more logically put together than Penglase's and generally presented clearer evidence for the thesis than Penglase, who at times seemed unsure of his own thesis. Both articles failed to address some of the questions they introduced in their introduction, however. In particular, both articles characterized connections to state actors as crucial to maintaining trafficker supremacy, yet failed to discuss these connections with any detail. For instance, both articles only briefly mentioned the police.

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Given the importance of the police in maintaining the drug trafficker control of favelas, it is germane to this review to examine some of the information available on Rio's police force. In December 2009, Human Rights Watch released a comprehensive report on Rio's police. Entitled, "Lethal Force: Police Violence and Public Security in Rio de Janeiro and So Paulo," the 122page report is the culmination of a four-year investigation by the group. The methodology was in-depth examination of 74 cases of police killings with alleged police abuse, the majority of which occurred between 2006 and 2009. Information was obtained from state prosecutors, officers of the Brazilian Bar Association, state police ombudsmen, civil society groups, media accounts, and NGO reports in addition to victim and eyewitness interviews in some cases. In choosing cases that had received substantial attention at multiple levels, it seems likely that the

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vast majority of police killings were not eligible for consideration. Also, because of their focus on the victims, the report does not seek to uncover the bribery networks that are reported to exist between police and traffickers. The findings of the report are sobering and substantiate news reports of police abuse: police corruption is still rampant. Failures were found at every turn. The section of the report on police cover ups finds three modus operandi through which police cover unlawful killings: false "rescues," planting evidence, and witness intimidation. False rescues occur when police take corpses to the hospital, and in so doing, destroy crime scene evidence. One of numerous case studies in the report gives the example of a 2007 massacre in Complexo do Alemro in which 9 of the police's 19 victims were brought to the hospital in an attempt to "rescue them." Photographs and autopsy reports obtained by HRW showed that these victims were dead before their removal from the scene, however. The evidence presented throughout the report consists of page after page of meticulous case studies that are seemingly irrefutable. The report finds that police "routinely fail to conduct proper investigations into police killings" and that from the moment a police killing occurs, "basic tenets of proper homicide investigation are violated or ignored by police investigators" (71). Regarding police impunity, the report concludes "chronic impunity" exists because of cover ups and investigatory failures. The scale of this impunity in Rio is staggering: of over 7800 criminal complaints logged against police officers between 1999 and 2009, 42 criminal charges were brought with only 4 officers being convicted of a crime. The unfortunate reality is that the police are left to police themselves in cases of police killings because the civil police conduct investigations in the civilian justice system. Rather than

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amending the constitution, HRW recommends that special prosecutorial units be established by the state prosecutors' office that exclusively handle police killing cases. The group further proposes that the prosecutors be able to hand pick a team of police investigators that answer to them. The group realizes that these proposals do not directly curb cover ups, but note that evidence of cover ups could be used to try officers for obstruction of justice. The report proposes other structural changes, including replacing key positions within the police battalions with nonpolice officers. The report also calls police salaries too low and says they aggravate problems of corruption and abuse.

In a 2006 publication from the Center for Studies on Public Security and Citizenship (CESeC) entitled "Brazilian responses to violence and new forms of mediation: the case of Grupo Cultural AfroReggae and the experience of the project 'Youth and the Police'", Slvia Ramos discusses the Brazilian response to urban violence. Although this article is written using scholarly conventions, it doesn't support an argument. It was released from the CESeC, which is a center within the University Candido Mendes, and apparently picked up by the Brazilian journal Cincia & Sade Coletiva. The report was released in both Portuguese and English, and has an insider feel to it, consistent with the author being a Brazilian scholar. For instance, while discussing the rise of AfroReggae from the Vigro Geral massacre, Ramos casually notes that the real root of the conflict was a disagreement between the police and drug dealers over the "usual weekly bribe" (424). In an introduction that orients readers to the criminal justice system in Brazil, Ramos makes several interesting claims that are never intended to be argued for, but which would make

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interesting avenues for scholarly research. Among these is the assertion that following the transition to democracy from military dictatorship in the mid 1980s, the sector that was never modernized and democratized was the criminal justice system. She also speaks of a (once?) pervasive public opinion that violence is "natural" among the lower classes; this viewpoint, she says, was influential to the inaction of state actors and the silence of Brazilian intellectuals as urban violence rose sharply throughout the 1990s. Finally, she addresses the role of the media by stating that the stereotype of the "police reporter" has changed significantly; whereas in the past the media contributed to the silence and inaction in their biased reporting, Ramos observes that reporters are increasingly including sources other than the police in their investigative reports. Notably, interviews with residents of favelas featured prominently in the U.S. media publications reviewed earlier. Adding to the refreshingly positive tone of the article, Ramos then examines the roles of organized youth groups in the favelas. These groups focus on cultural or artistic activities and create an alternative image of favela residents that Ramos believes has a tangible effect on public opinion of the slums. She says that the groups are crucial as mediators, or as she eloquently expresses, as "the bridge connecting a fractured world, the city and the favelas" (424). She notes that often these groups "represent the only point of contact for those who want to understand what is going on with the young living in the poor neighborhoods of the city" (424). She then details an initiative between the CESeC, AfroReggae, and the military police simply called "Juventude e Polcia. " The project brings youth and military police together for face-to-face interaction. Initially, the negotiations with the police in Rio de Janeiro failed, so the pilot program instead occurred in the capital of Minas Gerais, Belo Horizonte. Workshops on

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percussion, theater, graffiti, and dance were organized with the police battalions, with about 70 officers participating per workshop. The program was a great success according to Ramos, and in 2006 a documentary was made that convinced the Rio de Janeiro police to implement the program. Ramos does not include any statistics that track a decrease in police violence, but the immediacy of the report likely precluded such analysis. Ramos's analysis of youth-police interaction is particularly perceptive; she says the "essence lies in the interchange between the young and the police without mediators" because the youth and police "discover quickly that they are sharing much more identities that they had suspected" (426). Ramos also keenly notes that both groups are stigmatized by society and thus share the experience of being discriminated against. In concluding, Ramos does address the limitations of the project, particularly resistance within sectors of the police (likely those who most need to be reformed). She says that some cops believe "it's not the role of the police to appear on TV playing the drum" (427). These final two sources, reports released by reputable agencies, are in many ways intermediate between news and scholarly journal articles. They do not support a thesis, but rather report the findings of an investigation and a pilot program. They bear more weight than a news report, however, because they are published by organizations that stake their reputation on them. In evaluating the sources against each other, it is clear that they all have a niche in information literacy. While each type of source provided a unique angle on Rio's favelas, a consistent gap in knowledge seemed to be a detailed understanding of the bribery networks between police, politicians, and traffickers.

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References Arias, Desmond Enrique and Corinne Davis Rodrigues (2006). The Myth of Personal Security: Criminal Gangs, Dispute Resolution, and Identity in Rio de Janeior's Favelas. Latin American Politics and Society 48, 4:53-81 Barrionuevo, Alexei (2010, December 9). After Operation, Rio's Forces Greeted by Wariness. The New York Times [electronic version] Human Rights Watch (2009). Lethal Force: Police Violence and Public Security in Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paulo. New York: Author. Parenti, Christian (2010, May 31). Retaking Rio. The Nation, 17-21. Penglase, Ben (2009). States of Insecurity: Everday Emergencies, Public Secrets, and Drug Trafficker Power in a Brazilian Favela. Political and Legal Anthropology Review 32, 1:4763. Penglase, Ben (2007). Barbarians on the beach: Media narratives of violence in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Crime Media Culture 3, 3:305-325 Ramos, Slvia (2006). Brazilian Responses to violence and new forms of mediation: the case of

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the Grupo Cultural AfroReggae and the experience of the project "Youth and the Police." Cincia & Sade Coletiva 11, 2:419-428. Sheriff, Robin E. (2010). ANTH 501: Peoples and Cultures of Latin America. University of New Hampshire, Durham, NH. Sheriff, Robin E. (2001). Dreaming Equality: Color, Race, and Racism, and in Urban Brazil. Piscataway, NJ: Rutgers University Press. Soares, Fabio and Yuri Soars (2005). The Socio-Economic Impact of Favela-Bairro: What do the Data say? Inter-American Development Bank, Washington, D.C.

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