Midfield General

T-Rex vs. Navy SEAL

Why innovation-driven Chile might be just the team to beat old-school Brazil.

Brazil is very good at soccer. These days, so is Chile. As it happens, Chile is also very good at a lot of other stuff that Brazil struggles to master. It may be smaller, but Chile is the country with its eyes on the future, not the past. And this is true in soccer as well.

Brazil is the overwhelming favorite to win the World Cup. They've triumphed five times already, their players are prized the world over, and they're playing at home. Soccer may have been born in the British Isles, but it came of age in Brazil. So the story goes.

But Brazil hasn't won the World Cup since 2002, which was also the last time its team made the final. A lot has changed since then. Players have come and gone, but there has been no one with the primacy of a Ronaldo or a Pelé. Neymar is clearly destined for greatness, but he's still a young and mercurial talent. The team around him seems to go grimly through the motions, waiting for him to score.

The Brazilian economy has fallen into a similar tedium. After growing by 7.5 percent in 2010, thanks in part to a flood of foreign capital fleeing the crisis in traditional markets, it expanded by a total of just 6.2 percent over the next three years. For a country with millions of young people entering the labor force each year, this is not good news.

The old ways are holding Brazil back: According to the World Bank, corruption is just as pervasive as it was more than a decade ago, well before Brazil's recent growth spurt. The tax system is just as difficult to navigate, requiring a whopping 2,600 hours of work annually for businesses. In the absence of reforms, only the discovery of offshore oil -- a natural resource whose appearance is hardly reliable, like Neymar's ability on the field -- offers hope of another boom.

Chile is the polar opposite. With less than a tenth of Brazil's population, its talent comes in a smaller package. (In fact, it also has the shortest team at the World Cup.) But it's a package that has been carefully crafted for maximum effectiveness. Chile routinely tops South America in rankings of economic competitiveness and business climate, even finishing above some Western European giants. Net inflows of foreign direct investment average around 10 percent of gross domestic product, three times the rate for Brazil. And Chile is an economy on the move, ranking 46th in the Cornell-INSEAD-WIPO Global Innovation Index to Brazil's 64th.

Chile's soccer has lately been innovative as well. Starting with the hiring in 2007 of Argentine coach Marcelo Bielsa, one of the sport's most brilliant iconoclasts -- even the United States tried to sign him, according to media reports -- the team sought the greatest leverage for its limited talent pool. Bielsa imposed his favored 3-3-1-3 formation, an unusual setup that required a passel of pacy attackers and exceptionally flexible defenders. Bielsa may have left the team in 2011 for Athletic Bilbao in Spain, but Jorge Sampaoli, Chile's latest Argentine coach, says he idolizes Bielsa and is imposing an evolution of his countryman's system in Brazil. The 3-3-1-3 formation remains, but perhaps with more emphasis on playmaking behind the three forwards.

Meanwhile, Brazil is stuck in the past. Luiz Felipe Scolari led Brazil to its victory in 2002 but has only won the lopsided Uzbek league, a Brazilian cup, and last year's Confederations Cup since then. He's a good motivator and a decent tactician, but he's no innovator. In the World Cup this year, Scolari has used a standard 4-2-3-1 formation, with Brazil's traditional attacking fullbacks. For creativity, he relies on his players. But only Neymar and Oscar have shown much trace of Brazil's vaunted improvisational style.

Scolari's strategy has worked before, of course. But if any team can find a way to crack the Brazilian system using sheer tactical intelligence, it's Chile. Brazil is a dinosaur. A big, scary dinosaur, to be sure -- but the only question is how long it can last before extinction.

Dave Sandford / Getty Images Sport

Democracy Lab

Build a Party, Beware of Judges, and Never Give Up

Lessons from a lifetime of political activism.

With the swearing-in of President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi in early June, Egypt has turned full circle. This is just the latest version of a familiar and depressing tale. After all the hope, optimism, and national pride that followed the revolution and the successful overthrow of Hosni Mubarak's bloody 30-year rule, Egyptians are back to square one: Another military strongman has won another contested election, while his political opponents are either in hiding, in jail, or in their graves.

Events in Egypt are similar to those in my own country, the Maldives. We, too, suffered at the hands of a dictator for three decades. We, too, had our own peaceful revolution that swept away the old regime and ushered in new democracy. In 2012, that democracy was snatched away from us by a coup d'état. Since then, we have seen our freedoms and our electoral process undermined.

The experiences of the Maldives and the Arab Spring countries highlight the difficulty of embedding democracy in Muslim nations that have long been governed by authoritarian regimes. Overthrowing the dictator is hard enough, but for democrats, securing the long-term gains of the revolution is proving more challenging.

Just because you've pulled out the weeds doesn't mean that flowers will grow. Like a garden, democracy must be planted and nurtured -- or the weeds will grow back stronger than ever.

From my own experience -- as, in turn, a democracy activist, the Maldives' first democratically elected president, and the victim of a coup -- one of the most important things democrats must do early on is to build a political party around a unified cause; this is a task at which the Egyptian liberals fell short.

Democracy needs infrastructure in place to implement it. Political parties are the most important institution in a new democracy; they are the necessary nuts and bolts, the means for delivering democracy. Once established, they force their members to learn the new tools of contesting democratic power: grassroots mobilization, policy formulation, election campaigning, media relations, and so on. This process embeds democratic principles among large sections of the population, which in turn creates extra pressure for more democratic reform.

When Maldivians decided they'd had enough of their dictatorship, a number of activists, including myself, slipped out of the country and formed the Maldivian Democratic Party (MDP). In those days, back in 2004, political parties were banned in the Maldives, so operating in exile was our only option. We could have focused all our energy on fomenting street protests, but we recognized that there was no point overthrowing the regime if we weren't in a position to win an election or govern properly. When the Maldivian dictator, Maumoon Abdul Gayoom, begrudgingly allowed competitive elections in 2008, the MDP was an established political party. We won the presidential election with 54 percent of the vote.

In contrast, Egyptian liberals focused their attention on bringing down Mubarak. They were successful, and we all held our breath at the prospect of a free and democratic Egypt. But once Mubarak fell, the liberals found that they didn't have a strong, unified political party that could successfully compete in the ensuing elections. The Muslim Brotherhood, which had run an underground political machine for decades, swooped in and clinched victory. So the most important lesson for aspiring democrats, before anything else, is this: Focus on building your political party. 

The creation of successful political parties, though, is rarely enough to properly embed democracy. This brings me to my second lesson: Beware of judges. In the Maldives, like Egypt, the former dictator appointed all of the sitting judges. These judges, loyal to the old guard, hell-bent on maintaining their power, and steeped in anti-democratic ideology, actively undermined the new democracy. Judges blocked revenue-raising measures, protected members of the former regime from corruption probes, and granted themselves ever more power. In the Maldives, a new constitution passed in 2008, granting judges independence, as part of the separation of powers.

But like giving Dracula the keys to the blood bank, this decision gave unfettered power to a judiciary that is rotten to the core. This problem still haunts the Maldives. In last year's presidential elections, for instance, the Supreme Court constantly meddled in the vote to favor old-guard candidates, annulling and postponing votes, intimidating the Elections Commission, and making up the law as they went along. Ahead of parliamentary elections earlier this year, the court was at it again, sacking the Elections Commission chief and threatening his staff.

Confronting a corrupt, but independent, judiciary is particularly challenging for new rulers. The international community is largely clueless about how to deal with the problem. In the Maldives, for instance, the one organization that should have helped, the United Nations, instead considered judicial independence to be sacrosanct -- a misguided approach that treated poorly educated, corrupt, and often criminal judges as if they were U.S. Supreme Court justices. Kenya may provide a better example of the sort of radical judicial reform needed in post-revolution or, in its case, post-conflict societies. In Kenya, the new government, with international support, overhauled its judiciary and established an independent "Vetting of Judges and Magistrates Board." Unqualified, incompetent, or corrupt judges were removed from office. Whatever the method, the international community needs a new approach for dealing with inherited judiciaries in fledgling democracies.

This brings me to my third and final lesson: Never give up. Democratic movements need patience, optimism, and determination. People often ask me how I remain optimistic about the future of my island country, with respect to both its democratic trajectory and its survival in the face of rising sea levels (the Maldives is one of the world's lowest-lying nations). But when you choose to be a democracy activist in an authoritarian regime, or indeed a proponent of firm action to combat climate change, you have little choice but to remain optimistic. The alternative is too bleak.

This applies to everyone, from Egyptian liberals, to Maldivian human rights defenders, to pro-democracy activists in countries like Burma and Libya: Never give up -- and never assume that your cause is lost. Even when you face disappointment, there are usually unexplored avenues through which you can continue the struggle. In September 2013, after my party won the first round of presidential elections, the Maldives Supreme Court annulled the vote and got the Elections Commission to re-run the elections as many times as it took for our party to lose.* (The photo above shows Mohamed Nasheed at a protest to demand a run-off vote in Male.) After all this, some Maldivians told me that they felt despair over the future of their country. I responded: "Don't presume that this is the end of the book. We're only in the middle of the story. Don't be so hasty as to predict how the story will end."

Ranil Wickremesinghe, the former prime minister of Sri Lanka, once told me: "When the music stops, you must sit [down]." This may be true for political leaders, but not for democracy activists. Authoritarian regimes are more fragile than they appear. With a little push, they often collapse under the weight of their own contradictions. So be tenacious, strategic, and, above all, patient.

The peaceful and legitimate transfer of power is the defining characteristic of functioning democracy; it is how society grows and develops, and it is the overarching goal of any pro-democracy activist. During President Obama's second inauguration I heard a speech that, coming less than a year after the Maldives' coup, sent a chill down my spine. Senator Lamar Alexander summed up everything democracy activists should strive for: the regular transfer of power, through peaceful and legitimate means. He said: "There is no mob, no coup, no insurrection. This is a moment when millions stop and watch." For democracy activists around the world, huddled in their cafés or counting down the days in their prison cell, it is this moment that makes it all worthwhile.

*Correction, June 27, 2014: Mohamed Nasheed won the first round election with a plurality. The election required a second round vote. The article previously suggested he won the presidency outright. (Return to reading.)