Is this the love that conquered fear?
Em um estaleiro no sul do Brasil, o que deveria ser uma celebração de investimento industrial tornou-se um espelho das fraturas que dividem o país. O governador Eduardo Leite, cumprindo seu dever institucional ao lado do presidente Lula, foi recebido com vaias — e respondeu invocando a própria linguagem da unidade que o governo prometeu encarnar. O episódio revela que a polarização brasileira não é apenas eleitoral, mas também econômica: por trás dos assobios, há uma disputa real sobre como a federação distribui oportunidades e reconhecimento.
- No momento em que subiu ao palco, Leite foi recebido não com protocolo, mas com hostilidade aberta — uma ruptura simbólica no coração de um evento oficial.
- O governador virou a retórica petista contra ela mesma, perguntando se aquele era o 'amor que venceu o medo' prometido na campanha de Lula.
- Lula tentou acalmar a multidão com gestos e aplausos, mas nem a autoridade presidencial foi suficiente para conter os protestos.
- Leite escalou o confronto ao lembrar que 49% dos brasileiros votaram em Bolsonaro em 2022, alertando que o desprezo pelo adversário alimenta o ciclo de ódio e ressentimento.
- Por baixo do conflito simbólico, havia uma queixa concreta: o Rio Grande do Sul perdeu indústrias automotivas para outros estados por causa de incentivos federais desiguais, e o governador cobrou correção dessa distorção histórica.
Na tarde de uma terça-feira, o estaleiro Ecovix, em Rio Grande, deveria ser palco de uma boa notícia: a Petrobras anunciando a construção de cinco gaseiros, dezoito rebocadores e dezoito balsas. Mas quando Eduardo Leite, governador do Rio Grande do Sul pelo PSD, subiu ao palco ao lado do presidente Lula, o que encontrou foi uma onda de vaias.
Leite estava ali por dever institucional — representar seu estado em um anúncio federal. Mas a hostilidade da plateia o forçou a reagir. Com ironia calculada, ele perguntou se aquilo era 'o amor que venceu o medo', invertendo o slogan que havia definido o retorno de Lula ao poder. Em seguida, pediu respeito com clareza: ele honrava o cargo do presidente, e esperava o mesmo em troca. Ter opiniões diferentes, disse, não era crime.
As vaias continuaram. Leite insistiu: quase metade do Brasil havia votado de forma diferente em 2022, e tratar esses eleitores como inimigos só aprofundaria a polarização. 'Isso é um ambiente institucional, não um comício', disse ele, com a frustração já audível na voz. 'O desrespeito vai inflamar o outro lado com ainda mais ódio e amargura.'
Mas havia uma camada mais profunda no discurso. Leite passou a falar sobre a indústria automotiva: o Rio Grande do Sul havia feito esforços enormes para atrair montadoras, e perdeu para outros estados beneficiados por incentivos federais desproporcionais. Não era culpa pessoal de Lula, reconheceu — mas era uma distorção histórica que precisava ser corrigida. O anúncio da Petrobras era bem-vindo, porém insuficiente. Enquanto Leite deixava o palco entre vaias, a tensão entre cortesia institucional e ressentimento regional ficou suspensa no ar, sem resolução.
Eduardo Leite stood on a platform at the Ecovix shipyard in Rio Grande, Rio Grande do Sul, on a Tuesday afternoon meant to celebrate something concrete: Petrobras announcing the construction of five gas carriers, along with eighteen tugboats and eighteen barges. Instead, he found himself facing a wall of booing from the crowd.
The governor of Rio Grande do Sul, a member of the center-right PSD party, had come to the event as a matter of institutional duty. He was there to represent his state at a federal announcement, to show up alongside President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva. But the moment he took the stage, the hostility became unmistakable. Lula, sitting nearby, tried to help—applauding Leite's calls for civility, making calming gestures toward the crowd—but even the president could not quiet the jeers.
Leite responded by turning the government's own language back on itself. "Is this the love that conquered fear?" he asked, his voice sharp with irony. He was invoking the campaign slogan that had defined Lula's return to power, the promise of unity and reconstruction that had animated the PT's messaging. Then he made his case for respect. He was here doing his job, he said, honoring the office he held and the people who elected him. Lula had been elected by the same voters. Different political parties, different views—these things were not crimes. "I respect the office of the president of the Republic," Leite said. "So I ask for respect, please."
The booing continued. Leite pressed forward, trying to reframe the moment. It was important, he argued, that Brazilians understand they could think differently without hostility. They could work together on behalf of Rio Grande do Sul and the nation as a whole. But when he invoked the 2022 election—noting that forty-nine percent of Brazilian voters had chosen someone other than Lula, that nearly half the country had backed former president Jair Bolsonaro—the crowd's anger intensified. Leite was touching a nerve. He was saying that if the government truly wanted unity and construction, it could not treat those who disagreed as enemies.
"This is an institutional setting, not a campaign rally," Leite said, his frustration audible now. "Respect is essential. Otherwise, your behavior will inflame the other side with even more hatred, resentment, and bitterness. We don't want that." He was warning them, in effect, that contempt breeds contempt, that the polarization they were performing would only deepen the wound.
Then Leite shifted to the real grievance underneath it all. He spoke about the automotive industry. Rio Grande do Sul had made enormous efforts to attract vehicle manufacturers, he said. The state had put everything it had on the table. But it had failed. Federal incentives flowing to other states had created what he called a profound imbalance in how the federation distributed investment. Montadoras—major auto plants—had left Rio Grande do Sul because the federal government had made it more attractive to locate elsewhere. This was not Lula's personal fault, Leite said, but it was a historical distortion that needed correcting. The Union needed to look at this region. The numbers proved it.
The booing grew louder. Leite had moved from defending himself against accusations of disloyalty to making a concrete economic argument: his state was being shortchanged by federal policy, and no amount of ceremony at a shipyard could change that fact. The Petrobras announcement was good news, certainly. But it was not enough. Rio Grande do Sul needed more. And as Leite left the stage, the tension between institutional courtesy and genuine regional grievance hung in the air, unresolved.
Citações Notáveis
I respect the office of the president of the Republic, so I ask for respect, please.— Eduardo Leite
If you desire union and construction, do not hostilize those who think differently.— Eduardo Leite
A Conversa do Hearth Outra perspectiva sobre a história
Why did Leite choose to invoke the 49 percent figure? That seems like it made things worse.
Because he was trying to reframe what was happening. The booing felt like rejection, like he didn't belong there. By saying nearly half of Brazil voted differently, he was saying: this hostility is exactly what we should be avoiding if we want unity. But he was also saying something else—that his presence, his views, represent a real part of the country.
And the "love that conquered fear" line—was that just sarcasm, or was he making a deeper point?
Both. On the surface, it's sarcasm. But underneath, he's saying: you're using this language of unity while treating me like an enemy. That's the contradiction he's exposing. He's not wrong about it.
Do you think he actually believed the crowd would respond to appeals for respect?
Probably not. I think he was performing for a different audience—the people watching at home, the ones who might agree with him that this kind of hostility is corrosive. He was making a record of what happened.
And the federal investment complaint—was that the real reason he was angry, or was it just what he fell back on?
It's both. The booing was humiliating, sure. But the investment imbalance is real. Rio Grande do Sul has lost manufacturing capacity. That's not ideology. That's economics. Maybe the booing just gave him permission to say it out loud.