When a Danish sculptor raised a pillar of shame in front of Brazil’s Congress, art turned into politics and politics into art. Twenty-five years later, the sculpture still stands as a reminder of the country’s wounds – and of the courage to point a finger.
When Danish sculptor Jens Galschiøt stood before Brazil’s National Congress in April 2000, surrounded by banners, police, and thousands of landless peasants, he wasn’t just raising a sculpture — he was issuing an indictment.
An eight-metre-tall column of twisted human bodies — The Pillar of Shame — was lifted into the sky on the anniversary of the Eldorado dos Carajás massacre, where 19 members of the MST (Movimento dos Trabalhadores Rurais Sem Terra) were shot dead by military police in 1996.
Galschiøt called the work “The pillar of shame” — a monument for those places in the world where power meets abuse. “A pillar of shame is not meant to decorate — it’s meant to wake people up,” he said at the time.
A Danish project in the storm of Brazilian politics
The initiative met both admiration and resistance. On one side stood the MST, the world’s largest peasant movement, led by João Pedro Stédile, who saw Galschiøt’s project as a tool to draw attention to their struggle for land reform and human rights. On the other side stood conservative politicians who denounced the sculpture as “inappropriate” and tried to block it in customs.
The alliance between the artist and the movement was supported by Senator Heloísa Helena of the Workers’ Party (PT), one of the most uncompromising voices in Brazil’s Congress. She helped secure the necessary permits and acted as a political protector when opposition grew. “This sculpture is the voice of conscience in our democracy,” she declared at the unveiling.
From Brasília to Belém
After the ceremony in the capital, the Pillar of Shame was transported north to the state of Pará — near the site of the massacre itself. There it was received by Edmilson Rodrigues, the mayor of Belém at the time.
Rodrigues, then a PT member and now mayor for the left-wing PSOL party, officially incorporated the monument into the city’s public art collection. “This work should remind us that justice is not only a legal term but a responsibility,” he said at the hand-over. Since then, the sculpture has stood in Belém as a physical and moral landmark — a reminder of the day when art crossed the line between aesthetics and activism.
A collaboration across continents
Galschiøt’s Brazilian project was built through a network that connected artistic resistance with political mobilisation.
- Lula da Silva, presidential candidate
- Heloísa Helena, senator and later presidential candidate, gave the project parliamentary legitimacy.
- João Pedro Stédile and MST organised logistics, volunteers, and security during the installation.
- Edmilson Rodrigues, as mayor, gave the sculpture a permanent home in Belém.
Together they forged an alliance in which art became a means to renegotiate truth and accountability in the public sphere.
A monument against forgetting
For Galschiøt, the Pillar of Shame in Brazil was part of a wider series — Pillars of Shame and protest raised in cities such as Hong Kong and Mexico.
Brazil was special. “It was a place where you could feel that art had consequences,” says Jens Galschiøt today. “There was risk, resistance — but also the hope that art could actually change something.” The sculpture became both a memorial for the dead and a mirror for the living. It has been used by MST in demonstrations, commemorations, and human-rights education.
A living legacy
Twenty-five years later, the people behind the project are still active.
- Edmilson Rodrigues once again serves as mayor of Belém, focusing on climate and social justice.
- João Pedro Stédile remains a leading figure of MST and now collaborates with President Lula’s government on land reform.
- Heloísa Helena works as a teacher and public intellectual, still an outspoken voice in Brazilian politics.
- Lula da Silva is now president of Brazil.
And the Pillar of Shame? It still stands. Weathered by the Amazon’s humidity, marked with graffiti and adorned with flowers left by MST activists each April 17. For many Brazilians, the Danish sculpture is no longer a foreign object but part of the nation’s own memory — a monument that still points its finger, not only at the past, but at the structures of power that shape the present.
Galschiøt Returns to Belém
Now, twenty-five years later, a Galschiøt returns to Belém — this time in connection with COP30. It is not Jens, but his son, Lasse Galschiøt, who follows in his father’s footsteps. He arrives with a new and controversial artwork: a 2.5-metre bronze sculpture of a naked Donald Trump, symbolising what he calls “Trump’s attempt to kill the climate movement and the green transition.”
Unlike his father’s monumental Pillar of Shame, this new piece is not meant to stand still. The sculpture will be moved through public spaces in Belém during the climate summit, highlighting what the artist describes as Trump’s efforts to sabotage decisions to reduce CO₂ emissions and halt global warming.
Alongside the large sculpture, Lasse brings over 6,000 miniature versions — small 3D printed figures to be distributed among COP30 delegates as a tactile reminder of the connection between political denial and climate destruction.