Brazil’s gangsters finding exits by finding religion
Christian pastors convert them in a rite bad guys trust
RIO BRANCO, Brazil — As the sound of gunshots grew closer, Janderson Viera knew that the rival gang that had taken over his neighborhood was coming for him.
Running to his bedroom, he called the only lifeline he had left: the Rev. Arnaldo Barros.
“I want to convert,” he said.
As gang wars drive Brazil’s homicide rate to historic highs, evangelical pastors — long revered in the nation’s slums and prisons — have come up with a new way to protect members looking for a way out.
Gang leaders say the only way to leave the business alive is to convert to Christianity. So Barros, a televangelist popular here in western Brazil, memorializes a gang member’s embrace of the ancient articles of faith using the most modern of tools: He records the conversion on his smartphone and posts the videos on YouTube, Facebook and WhatsApp. The converts gain immunity against retribution by rival gangs and their own.
Gang leaders and law enforcement officials say it works.
“We aren’t going to go against the will of God,” a local leader of the powerful Comando Vermelho, the gang that was pursuing Viera, told The Washington Post. “God comes first, above everything.”
“It’s become a nonviolent escape route,” agreed Lucas Gomes, the head of prisons here in Acre state. “A way to publicize, justify and explain the exit.”
Barros, meanwhile, keeps close watch on each new Christian to make sure the conversion sticks.
If it doesn’t, he lets the gangs know.
Gang violence has made Brazil one of the most dangerous countries in Latin America — killings nationwide reached a record 64,000 in 2017, and the death toll remains high.
Acre, the sparsely populated western state wedged between Peru and Bolivia, is so often neglected by the federal government that Brazilians joke it doesn’t exist. But for the narcotrafficking gangs battling for control of Brazil’s profitable cocaine route, it has become hotly disputed turf.
The gang wars have transformed sleepy Rio Branco, a jungle-covered town of ramshackle houses and polluted canals, into one of Brazil’s most violent cities. The homicide rate in Acre’s capital rose to 64 per 100,000 in 2017, double that of the rest of the country.
Making converts has long been Barros’ business. As the death toll mounted, so did the calls. But it was a challenge spreading the message that the new Christians were out of the game in time to save their lives.
“They come to me desperate for help,” the 56year-old pastor said. “This is the only exit, the only way out. I thought, ‘How am I going to get the gang leaders to see this?’ ”
For years, Brazilian gangs have posted cellphone videos on social media to keep members in line, intimidate rivals and orchestrate attacks. In 2016, a gang posted footage of the live decapitation of two men from a rival gang. By 2018, members were extracting the hearts of their decapitated rivals and waving them in front of the camera.
Barros — pastor of Rio Branco’s Igreja Geração Eleita, the Elected Generation Church — saw these videos circulating on his feeds and decided to coopt the approach. Other pastors in Acre have followed his example.
The Rev. Adilson de Oliveira says the church’s endorsement of the videos adds a sense of legitimacy in a world of shifting alliances.
Oliveira, 60, spent nine years behind bars for armed robberies and drug dealing before he converted 20 years ago. Now he helps prison inmates who are looking for a different life.
“Sometimes people don’t believe that a member is leaving,” he said. “They think, ‘He was our partner. We know what he is capable of.’
“But a pastor is someone they can trust. The video says, ‘ I’m leaving, but I want to stay on good terms.’ ”