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The clanging of church bells, scream of sirens and thud of artillery salutes penetrated as a confused blend of sound into the blossom-bedecked Chamber of Deputies in Rio's Tiradentes Palace, but the spectators seemed unaware of the background noise or the extravagant colors of the tropical flowers. All attention centered on a pale, slender man in white tie and black tailcoat. "I swear," he said, tense with emotion, "to uphold, defend and obey the Constitution of the Republic, and to maintain its union, integrity and independence." Intoned the presiding officer of the Chamber of Deputies: "I proclaim you, Juscelino Kubitschek, President of the Republic for a period of five years."
Pelted with flowers, hailed with cheers and popping firecrackers, the new President of Latin America's biggest nation rode from Tiradentes to Catete Palace along streets guarded by cavalrymen in plumed ceremonial helmets—and also by drab, businesslike tanks, forceful reminders that Brazil was still living under a state of siege. At Catete, Acting President Nereu Ramos took off the green-and-gold sash of office and draped it across the incoming President's breast.
"Mr. President," said Ramos, "you are taking over the government of the Republic in an hour of great changes and great hopes." And with that, Juscelino Kubitschek, 54, sometime practicing physician and surgeon, last week took up the burden of governing a half-formed, painfully growing giant of a nation, greater in area than the U.S., greater in its 58 million population than France or Britain, but still a Land of the Future, its past a tangle of good intentions and bad techniques, its present clouded and uncertain.
Brazil's new President has made his countrymen a vast promise—not merely to cope with the old, urgent problems of sprinting inflation and nagging debts, but to push and pull the nation a long way toward the bright dream of tomorrow—in his own phrase, to achieve "Fifty Years' Progress in Five." Kubitschek is a man with a political flair and a remarkable capacity for work; he will need both.
Showing his political touch, he made a protocol-breaking appearance on the balcony of Catete Palace a few minutes after taking over. "I promised that I would enter Catete with the people of Brazil," he cried. "I will keep that promise." He ordered the guards to open the gates and let in the huge crowd. Still wearing his sash, he mixed with the milling, chattering visitors. He slapped backs, grasped hands, whisked children up in his arms to buss their cheeks. Then, unaided by any microphone, he made a brief, unscheduled speech from the veranda. "I intend to work for order, justice and the welfare of the people." he said. "We are with you, Juscelino!" somebody shouted, and the crowd thundered agreement.