O historiador Geoffrey Barraclough considera que os “14 Pontos” do Presidente Wilson podem ser interpretados como resposta à revolução mundial concebida por Lenin. Agrega que os dois líderes apresentam traços em comum. A propósito, julgue (C ou E) os pontos que os aproximam:

reconhecimento de que negociações secretas são, às vezes, indispensáveis.

Com relação ao período da Primeira República brasileira, que vigorou até 1930, julgue C ou E.

No que se refere à política externa, ao longo de todo esse período, prevaleceram as relações econômicas e financeiras com a Europa, em detrimento de uma possível opção americanista.

Com relação à evolução da Guerra Fria, julgue C ou E.

Entre os principais chefes de Estado que fundaram o Movimento dos Não Alinhados, na Conferência de Bandung, encontravam-se Nehru (Índia), Sukarno (Indonésia), Nasser (Egito), Tito (Iugoslávia) e Fidel Castro (Cuba).

This text refers to question.

“For heaven’s sake,” 1 my father said, seeing me off at the airport, “don’t get drunk, don’t get pregnant — and don’t get involved in politics.” He was right to be concerned. Rhodes University in the late 1970s, with its Sir Herbert Baker-designed campus and lush green lawns, looked prosperous and sedate. But the Sunday newspapers had been full of the escapades of its notorious drinking clubs and loose morals; the Eastern Cape was, after the riots of 1976, a place of turmoil and desperate poverty; and the campus was thought by most conservative parents to be a hotbed of political activity.

The Nationalist policy of forced removals meant thousands of black people had been moved from the cities into the nearby black “homelands” of Transkei and Ciskei, and dumped there with only a standpipe and a couple of huts for company; two out of three children died of malnutrition before the age of three. I arrived in 1977, the year after the Soweto riots, to study journalism. Months later, Steve Biko was murdered in custody. The campus tipped over into turmoil. There were demonstrations and hunger strikes.

For most of us, Rhodes was a revelation. We had been brought up to respect authority. Here, we could forge a whole new identity, personally and politically. Out of that class of 1979 came two women whose identities merge with the painful birth of the new South Africa: two journalism students whose journey was to take them through defiance, imprisonment and torture during the apartheid years.
One of the quietest girls in the class, Marion Sparg, joined the ANC’s military wing, Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK), and was eventually convicted of bombing two police stations. An Asian journalist, Zubeida Jaffer, was imprisoned and tortured, yet ultimately chose not to prosecute her torturers.

Today you can trace the footprints of my classmates across the opposition press in South Africa and the liberal press in the UK — The Guardian, the Observer and the Financial Times. Even the Spectator (that’s me). Because journalism was not a course offered at “black” universities, we had a scattering of black students. It was the first time many of us would ever have met anyone who was black and not a servant. I went to hear Pik Botha, the foreign minister, a Hitlerian figure with a narrow moustache, an imposing bulk and a posse of security men. His reception was suitably stormy, even mocking — students flapping their arms and saying, “Pik-pik-pik-P-I-I-I-K!’, like chattering hens.

But students who asked questions had to identify themselves first. There were spies in every class. We never worked out who they were, although some of us suspected the friendly Afrikaans guy with the shark’s tooth necklace.

Janice Warman. South Africa’s Rebel Whites. In: The Guardian Weekly, 20/11/2009 (adapted).

Based on the text, judge — right (C) or wrong (E) — the item below.

Students decided to burlesque Botha’s performance as an ineffectual and chicken-hearted foreign minister by doing a ludicrous and crude imitation of a bird.

Oriana, the agitator

Oriana Fallaci, the Italian writer and journalist best known for her abrasive tone and provocative stances, was for two decades, from the mid-nineteen-sixties to the mid-nineteen-eighties, one of the sharpest political interviewers in the world. Her subjects were among the
world’s most powerful figures: Yasser Arafat, Golda Meir, Indira Ghandi, Haile Selassie, Deng Xiaoping. Henry Kissinger, who later wrote that his 1972 interview with her was “the single most disastrous conversation I have ever had with any member of the press,” said that he had been flattered into granting it by the company he’d be keeping as part of Fallaci’s “journalistic pantheon.” It was more like a collection of pelts: Fallaci never left her subjects unskinned.

Her manner of interviewing was deliberately unsettling: she approached each encounter with studied aggressiveness, made frequent nods to European existentialism (she often disarmed her subjects with bald questions about death, God, and pity), and displayed a sinuous, crafty intelligence. It didn’t hurt that she was petite and beautiful, with perfect cheekbones, straight, smooth hair that she wore parted in the middle or in pigtails; melancholy blue-grey eyes, set off by eyeliner; a cigarette-cured voice; and an adorable Italian accent. During the Vietnam War, she was sometimes photographed in fatigues and a helmet; her rucksack bore handwritten instructions to return her body to the Italian Ambassador “if K.I.A.” In these images she looked slight and vulnerable as a child. Her essential toughness never stopped taking people — men, especially — by surprise.

Fallaci’s journalism was infused with a “mythic sense of political evil”, an almost adolescent aversion to power, which suited the temperament of the times. “Whether”, she would say, “it comes from a despotic sovereign or an elected president, from a murderous general or a beloved leader, I see power as an inhuman and hateful phenomenon… I have always looked on disobedience towards the oppressive as the only way to use the miracle of having been born.” In her interview with Kissinger, she told him that he had become known as “Nixon’s mental wet nurse,” and lured him into boasting that Americans admired him because he “always acted alone” — like “the cowboy who leads the wagon train by riding ahead alone on his horse, the cowboy who rides all alone into the town.” Political cartoonists mercilessly lampooned this remark, and, according to Kissinger’s memoirs, the quote soured his relations with Nixon (Kissinger claimed that she had taken his words out of context). But the most remarkable moment in the interview came when Fallaci bluntly asked him, about Vietnam, “Don’t you find, Dr. Kissinger, that it’s been a useless war?”, and he began his reply with the words, “On this, I can agree.”

Internet: <www.newyorker.com> (adapted).

Based on the text, judge — right (C) or wrong (E) — the item below.

The highly professional sense of Fallaci as a journalist in search of truth made her avoid any sort of tricks in approaching her interviewees, both powerful figures and common people.

Amartya Sen

Freedom, in the eyes of Amartya Sen, the famous Indian economist and philosopher, does not consist merely of being left to our own devices. It also requires that people have the necessary resources to lead lives that they themselves consider to be good ones. The focus on the individual has led some critics to accuse Sen of “methodological individualism” — not a compliment. Communitarian opponents, in particular, think that he pays insufficient regard to the broader social group. In response, he — usually an unfailingly courteous writer — becomes a bit cross, pointing out that “people who think, choose and act” are simply “a manifest reality in the world”. Of course communities influence people, “but ultimately it is individual valuation on which we have to draw, while recognising the profound interdependence of the aluations of people who interact with each other”.

Nor is Sen easily caricatured as an egalitarian: “capabilities”, for example, do not have to be entirely equal. He is a pluralist, and recognises that even capabilities cannot always trump other values. Liberty has priority, Sen insists, but not in an absurdly purist fashion that would dictate “treating the slightest gain of liberty — no matter how small — as enough reason to make huge sacrifices in other amenities of a good life — no matter how large”.

Throughout, Sen remains true to his Indian roots. One of the joys of his recently published book entitled The Idea of Justice is the rich use of Indian classical thought — the debate between 3rd-century emperor Ashoka, a liberal optimist, and Kautilya, a downbeat institutionalist, is much more enlightening than, say, a tired contrast between Hobbes and Hume.

Despite these diverting stories, the volume cannot be said to fall into the category of a “beach read”: subtitles such as “The Plurality of Non-Rejectability” provide plenty of warning. But for those who like their summer dinner tables to be filled with intelligent, dissenting discourse, the book is worth the weight. There is plenty here to argue with. Sen wouldn’t have it any other way.

Internet: <http://entertainment.timesonline.co.uk> (adapted).

According to the text, judge — right (C) or wrong (E) — the item below.

Sen dismisses out of hand the ideas advanced by English philosophers of the XVII and XVIII centuries.

Acerca da Revolução Mexicana de 1910 e da política mexicana no Século XX, julgue C ou E.

Depois da ascensão, em 1911, de Pancho Villa à presidência do país, registrou-se um surto de desenvolvimento industrial paralelo ao processo de reforma agrária.

Com relação à evolução da Guerra Fria, julgue C ou E.

Após o fracasso da intervenção americana no Vietnã, o apoio abrangente do Bloco Ocidental a Israel na Guerra do Yom Kippur (1973) demonstrou a unidade do Ocidente.

A década iniciada em 1830 caracterizou-se pela instabilidade política. A respeito do período regencial na história do Império Brasileiro, julgue C ou E.

Na Bahia, a população, sob a liderança do médico Francisco Sabino Barroso, revoltou-se contra o recrutamento forçado para a formação de tropas que deveriam lutar no Rio Grande do Sul e instituiu a República Bahiense.