Days of Madness

Disheveled hair in rapid extinction, the jacket of someone who sleeps dressed, the tie too narrow to camouflage the curvature of the belly, the bored expression – nothing in the appearance of the man wielding a microphone led the small audience to suspect that they would soon witness a historic moment. “Updated data from the Capitol invasion, Minister Alexandre de Moraes,” prepared the audience for the speaker Dias Toffoli. Thus began, on December 14, 2022, the boldest offensive of the duo of artillerymen in action at the Supreme Federal Court. “Nine hundred and sixty-four people have already been arrested. In all fifty states. And accused of crimes committed since January 6, 2021,” the speaker continued. “And four hundred and sixty-five made agreements declaring themselves guilty with the Public Prosecutor’s Office.”

The impetuous partner stepped onto the makeshift podium ready for the finishing touch. “Before saying what I was going to say, I was happy with Minister Toffoli’s speech,” Moraes became emotional in a countryside São Paulo accent. “Because comparing the numbers, there are many people to arrest,” he paused and raised his voice for the glorious ending: “And many fines to apply!” The audience, made up of people who helped elect a government favorable to the “decarceration policy,” greeted the Supreme Jailer’s warning with laughter and applause. Less than a month later, the outbreak of vandalism aggravated by the invasion of buildings housing the headquarters of the Three Powers encouraged Moraes to make it clear that there were indeed many people begging for prison. On January 9, besides the 41 detained elsewhere, 1,406 Brazilians were captured in the federal capital. And Moraes became the new world record holder for the non-Olympic sport of mass arrests.

No exaggeration, Lula government spokespeople disguised as journalists chanted in unison. Brazilian democracy would be buried in a shallow grave if Moraes had not suffocated what the press consortium dubbed the Bolsonarist Insurrection. The obvious allusion to the Communist Insurrection—a series of military uprisings that attempted to overthrow Getúlio Vargas’ government in November 1935—is merely a monument to historical ignorance. The disastrous coup led by Luiz Carlos Prestes caused just over 100 deaths. No one died in the January 8th disturbances. In 1936, 35 high-ranking members of the Communist Insurrection were tried. More than three months later, the Papuda and Colmeia prisons remain overcrowded with men and women who have been denied due process and the right to a full defense. The circus columnists who survived the non-existent insurrection have just been shot down by the videos showing the astonishing performance of Lula’s General Gonçalves Dias on January 8th, during the invasion of the Planalto Palace.

With the placidity of a lap baby, the now-former Chief of the Institutional Security Office watches the movement of enemy troops. As gentle as a tour guide, he offers water to future prisoners of war and points them to the safest exit. The President of the Republic, the devotees of the sect, and the Supreme Court ministers pretended they saw nothing unusual. Lula swore he knew nothing about it, and if something went wrong, it was his old friend’s fault. He then anticipated his departure to Portugal. PT parliamentarians claim their leader was betrayed. Moraes made it clear that he doesn’t waste time with criminals who voted for the right candidate. First, he ordered the Federal Police to wait 48 hours to hear what Lula’s general friend has to say. Then, he announced that he will keep Anderson Torres in jail. A former Bolsonaro minister, Torres was the Secretary of Public Security of the Federal District and was in the United States on January 8th. He was arrested for omission. However, he will remain in custody for other reasons the minister preferred to omit. The other super-judges did not utter a word about the exchange of pleasantries between Gonçalves Dias and the vandals.

The minister who believes he has suffocated the Bolsonarista Intentona may be unaware that in 1936, when approving the deportation of Olga Benario Prestes to Nazi Germany, the Supreme Federal Court experienced its darkest hour. Unaware of the Constitution, legal codes, the defendant’s Jewish ancestry, and her pregnancy, the Court condemned Luiz Carlos Prestes’ wife to death. In theory, the penalty of expulsion was applied to a foreigner arrested months earlier for having participated in the Communist Intentona. Olga was murdered in a concentration camp. The child who survived the descent into hell was rescued by an international campaign led by the grandmother. The STF’s decision inscribed the day of infamy into its history.

In 2019, when Dias Toffoli ran over the Brazilian accusatory system, confiscated the Public Prosecutor’s Office’s powers, opened the fake news inquiry, and handed its conduct to Alexandre de Moraes, few jurists saw it as a strong kick to the Constitution. Four years, nine abusive inquiries, and countless illegalities later, Brazilian democracy is deformed by the existence of exiles persecuted by the Judiciary, political prisoners, presidential pardons thrown in the trash, journalists forbidden to express opinions, entrepreneurs besieged by multimillion-dollar fines, blocked bank accounts and social networks, shattered constitutional norms, and citizens without passports – all in addition to the epidemic fear instilled by disguised dictatorships. The multitude of prisoners without trial, composed exclusively of voters who did not vote for Lula, is a victory of perversity over justice. The thinking Brazil has been collecting days of madness. It is necessary to prevent supreme superpowers from turning 2023 into the most infamous of years.