塞阿拉州一村庄约2000人逃离，有组织犯罪成州长选举核心议题

Police officer with a rifle in Uiraponga: Infighting among criminal-organization leaders emptied the district, and residents remain afraid to return home a year after the mass exodus Jarbas Oliveira/Valor In a small village in the Ceará countryside, dozens of colorful homes have their doors and windows shut. The silence is constant. On the dirt-and-sand streets, the only movement comes from goats searching for shade. In the main square, opposite the church, two police officers with rifles in hand explain how Uiraponga, a district of Morada Nova 170 kilometers from Fortaleza, became a “ghost town.” Ten homicides occurred to the left of the church. Three more people were killed in the small square near the children’s playground. Another was killed inside the health clinic. One murder, marked by extreme brutality, was the final straw. Within weeks, about 2,000 residents fled en masse amid a war among members of a criminal organization. Ceará gangs demand payments to allow campaigning The advance of organized crime and the constant presence of criminal organizations in cities across the Ceará countryside and on the outskirts of Fortaleza are major issues in this year’s race for state governor between incumbent Elmano de Freitas of the Workers’ Party (PT) and former governor Ciro Gomes of the Brazilian Social Democracy Party (PSDB). Elmano highlights the state government’s intelligence operations against criminal organizations and its hiring of additional police officers. Ciro, meanwhile, has said the state has been “completely surrendered” to these groups. Violence ranks as voters’ leading concern in Datafolha and Quaest polls. Infighting within the same criminal organization unleashed a wave of violence and left Uiraponga deserted. The school remained closed for months, and the children were transferred elsewhere. The health clinic, church, and businesses also closed. “There has been a homicide on every street here,” said one of the police officers accompanying Valor. A struggle among members of a criminal organization over drug sales and territorial control—with frequent gunfire, killings in the streets, and fear of becoming the next victim—drove residents away. Some families took their doors and windows with them so they could rebuild their homes elsewhere. Others left almost everything behind, expecting to return soon. A year after the mass exodus, few have returned. Fear still prevails. The expulsion of residents by criminal organizations—whether they flee violence or leave under direct orders from organized-crime leaders—has become common in Ceará. In 2025, authorities recorded 350 cases of families being threatened with expulsion. The governor said there have been 60 this year. The cases are severely underreported because people fear retaliation. In one of the few Uiraponga homes with open doors and windows, João’s family described living in fear. “They said we would no longer have water or electricity, and they threatened us to make us leave,” he said. Born and raised in the district, João remained at home to care for his 80-year-old mother, who refused to leave. “At first, the police would enter people’s homes and leave everyone even more shaken.” His wife went to stay with one of their daughters in Morada Nova but recently returned. “This place was a nightmare,” she said. One of the couple’s daughters, 27, said it was difficult to believe what had happened in the village. “We used to see news reports about things like this and never thought it would happen here.” Their other daughter, 24, added: “We feel an emptiness, as if we had lost someone very dear to us. Some families left because the criminal organization threatened them, but most left out of fear. We look at how things are now and remember how they were before, and it leaves us feeling empty.” Homicides in the district increased in recent years amid disputes involving Guardiões do Estado (GDE), Massa Carcerária, Primeiro Comando da Capital (PCC), Terceiro Comando Puro Cangaço—a branch of Terceiro Comando Puro—and Comando Vermelho (CV). Residents said violent deaths declined after CV expanded its control. Police showed Valor escape routes criminals used to reach the neighboring municipality of São João do Jaguaribe, the country’s most violent in 2022, according to the Brazilian Public Security Yearbook. They said Uiraponga remains a “red zone,” where violence could erupt at any time. “I would hear the ‘crack’ [of gunfire] and become very nervous. I heard a neighbor being killed,” said Neusa, 77, who took refuge for months in central Morada Nova before deciding to return. The retiree avoids discussing the crimes. “Here, nobody knows anything and nobody saw anything.” Nearby, Mariana, 54, also moved to Morada Nova when the district school closed so the grandchildren she raises as her own children could continue studying. Instead of living in the home she owned and had occupied all her life, she had to pay R$500 in rent, putting even more pressure on her budget. She returned early this year. “It felt like the end of the world, but I could not bring myself to abandon my roots here.” After the negative attention the war generated among criminal organizations, City Hall and the state government have taken steps to demonstrate a government presence and encourage families to return. The public school and health clinic have reopened. Security cameras have been installed on some utility poles, and two patrol cars operated by the uniformed patrol and crime prevention police regularly circulate through the village streets. The graffiti “TCP = CE Cangaço,” referring to Terceiro Comando Puro Cangaço, was crudely covered with blue paint at a business a few kilometers from the district entrance. Beside the village gateway, the message “all together for peace” is painted on a wall. In addition to the small share of former residents who have returned, some homes are now occupied by workers carrying out construction projects in the district, including road paving. John Darly Oliveira Bento, vice president of Uiraponga’s Sertão Junino Association, said every family’s return “is a joy.” Unofficial estimates indicate that about 20% of the families have returned. “This is an old community. Our great-grandparents and grandparents grew up in the district. It is as if this place were part of us,” he said. The initiatives by City Hall and the state government are welcome, he added, but residents fear they are tied to the election calendar. “We are worried about the future and hope that progress continues after the election.” Luana, 27, agreed. “Sometimes something good comes from something bad. The district had been forgotten, and now they are doing something. I just hope they do not stop everything after the election.” Morada Nova City Hall declined to comment. Criminal organizations are becoming increasingly involved in Ceará politics. Six Morada Nova city council members were arrested this year on allegations of ties to these groups, in a case involving almost half of the 15-member City Council, including its president. Investigators allege that criminal organizations financed the council members’ campaigns. In return, they participated in a public-contract scheme involving R$500 million—more than the city’s budget. The Federal Electoral Prosecution Service considers it one of the most blatant and emblematic examples of how criminal organizations are entering politics, whether by electing their own members or candidates financed by organized crime, or by gaining access to public contracts. “When criminal organizations enter government, they begin operating in lawful activities,” warned regional electoral prosecutor Celso Leal. The displacement of Morada Nova residents by organized crime is not an isolated phenomenon. In some cases, uniformed patrol and crime-prevention police escort people forced to leave their homes. On the outskirts of Fortaleza, student Luiza watched criminal organizations divide her family in the Vila Velha neighborhood. She could not cross a muddy patch separating her section of the neighborhood from the area where an aunt lived because another group controlled it. During one visit to her aunt’s home, Luiza received a death threat warning her not to return to the “rival” area. She could cross safely only after Comando Vermelho took control of both areas. “When there is only one criminal organization, things become easier. It feels safer, and the fighting and killing stop.” Luiza’s father had a dispute with the neighborhood leader of the organization. He was given 48 hours to flee or risk having the home sprayed with gunfire while the entire family was inside. Her mother, who had a good relationship with the neighbors and local gang members, stayed behind but left months later out of fear. Part of the neighborhood experienced a wave of departures and expulsions because of fighting among criminal organizations. The victorious group later distributed the abandoned homes. “It looked like a government program announcing homes for anyone who wanted one.” Luiza said the organization’s leader sets the rules governing daily life, and anyone who disobeys is brought before a “criminal tribunal.” One of the main rules is not to do anything that would bring the police into the area. The local leader mediates family disputes, debts, and other matters. She recalled that her cousin was nearly killed after being accused of cheating on her boyfriend, who was affiliated with the organization, but was “acquitted” for lack of evidence. Over the past decade, Luiza has watched the former local gang known as the “Gafanhotos” (Grasshoppers) become absorbed by organizations such as GDE and PCC. She said she has witnessed scenes of extreme violence since childhood. “The war is not in Iran. It is here, in our communities.” For those who neither fled nor joined a criminal organization, evangelical churches offer one possible path. “They cleanse your soul and your past. Not even prison does that,” she said. “The only way to leave the organization is to join a church.” Organized crime makes its presence visible throughout neighborhoods on the outskirts of Fortaleza and cities in the metropolitan region. Walls are often marked with the initials of criminal organizations, such as CV for Comando Vermelho, or messages like “lower your window and remove your helmet,” allowing lookouts—usually stationed on street corners and at businesses—to identify everyone entering the area. The rule is clear: do not expose or discuss what happens there. The threat to anyone who disobeys is even clearer: “Ten blows for every piece of gossip,” reads graffiti beside a municipal government office in Caucaia, in the metropolitan region. In Fortaleza’s Serrinha neighborhood, the letters “CV” are everywhere. Near the “sand court,” as the local sports court is known, another message reads: “The best blind man is the one who sees everything and says nothing.” Another common piece of graffiti is “1 God, 2 us, and 3 bullets,” which became a song and refers to “God first, the organization second, and the extermination of rivals third.” In Pirambu, a neighborhood known as Ceará’s largest favela, criminal organizations’ initials compete for wall space with black paint used by the state government to cover the graffiti, accompanied by the message “Ceará against crime.” The walls also carry threats against those who violate community rules, including “a beating for anyone who throws garbage” in the street. Large housing developments built under the Minha Casa, Minha Vida (My House, My Life—MCMV) program in outlying areas of the capital, with thousands of homes, are controlled by criminal-organization leaders. They determine which internet provider residents may use—in exchange for a fee paid to the criminal group—who may sell water and cooking gas, who may use the community event room, which dumpster company may remove debris, who may visit, and even who may live there. In some outlying neighborhoods where criminal organizations are still fighting for control, organized crime even determines who may use the health clinic and school, barring people from “rival” areas. Valor heard accounts of people selected to receive MCMV homes but prevented from moving in because they lived in neighborhoods controlled by rival organizations. Others give up their units for fear of retaliation because they have some connection with groups opposed to the one controlling the neighborhood where they were allocated housing. Organization leaders rent the vacant apartments to people they trust. Julia said she was prohibited from renting a room in her apartment to anyone from outside the development, preventing anyone from a “rival” area from entering. In some cases, the criminal organization chooses the condominium manager. Community leaders from outlying Fortaleza neighborhoods and housing developments said drug trafficking now appears to play a secondary role in the organizations’ “businesses.” “They profit from internet service and from the ‘CV fee’ [Comando Vermelho] charged to merchants,” said José, a community leader in one of Fortaleza’s largest housing developments. “It used to be only drugs. Now they are more involved in business and politics.” In the area around the Parangaba neighborhood, Lucas agreed. “Crime has adapted to the market.” Members of the Frei Tito Human Rights and Community Legal Assistance Office, a body of the Ceará Legislative Assembly, said Comando Vermelho’s advance over other criminal organizations in the state has reduced forced displacement while increasing the economic exploitation of residents and business owners. The decline in homicides is another consequence of CV’s predominance. With less fighting among rival organizations, fewer deaths have been recorded. Anthropologist Jânia Perla de Aquino, a researcher at the Federal University of Ceará’s Violence Studies Laboratory (LEV), said cities in the state have become places with “administrators who possess firepower.” “Basic rights are being denied,” the university professor said. “The most perverse result of this war among criminal organizations is the expulsion of residents.” A battleground for criminal organizations, Ceará is viewed as a strategic state for moving drugs because of its geographic proximity to Europe, the Port of Pecém, and Fortaleza International Airport. A stronger Comando Vermelho presence has been recorded in the state for about a decade. Oscar Stefano Fioravanti, coordinator of the Special Action Group to Combat Organized Crime (Gaeco) at the Ceará Public Prosecutor’s Office, said Comando Vermelho has influence in about 85% of the state’s municipalities but does not exercise territorial control, which occurs when the government cannot enter a particular area. “We have intensified the fight against organized crime. Most leaders of the state’s criminal organizations have either been arrested or are outside Ceará, including in Rio de Janeiro,” he said. Ivan Batista, head of the Federation of Neighborhoods and Favelas of Fortaleza, said organized crime advances in areas where the government is absent. “People focus heavily on security, but other measures are also necessary, including full-time and vocational education and more employment and income opportunities.” On the campaign trail, Ciro Gomes has criticized the Civil Police for failing to investigate criminal organizations and the state government for failing to take effective action against organized crime. The candidate supports hiring more police chiefs and increasing investment in police intelligence. Ciro said the expansion of criminal organizations in the state—particularly Comando Vermelho—between 2015 and 2025 coincided with the period when the governor’s political group was in power. “You can trace a trail of widespread impunity that provides the obvious explanation for this extreme violence.” The governor acknowledges the presence and expansion of criminal organizations in Ceará but maintains that no territories in the state are controlled by crime where the police cannot enter. Elmano de Freitas said Ceará has hired more police officers, invested in intelligence operations—“we increased the number of intelligence agents from 123 to 794”—and that measures taken by his administration have stripped organized crime of R$3.3 billion under court orders. “There is a stronger government presence and a change in the law with the Anti-Gang Law,” he said. Inês, who owns a home in Uiraponga, has lived with her family in a rented property in Morada Nova for a year. The retiree visits the district on weekends to look after the house but does not feel safe enough to return. “If the government had taken action when these criminal organizations began advancing, much of this could have been prevented. Things would not be this way.” Names have been changed to protect the interviewees’ identities. Translation: Todd Harkin