Dive bar deity

Years hence, Brazil in the first quarter of the 21st century will continue to haunt those keen on unraveling the conundrum: What could have possibly driven a country—which was never meant for beginners—to morph into a case study meriting examination by a multinational cohort of historians, psychiatrists, political scientists, anthropologists, shamans from isolated tribes, and AI specialists, among others? Exaggeration, some will say—those state-aligned journalists, unpublished novelists, and artists propped up by generous federal largesse, along with the other acolytes of the sect that has enshrined a police docket as its one true god. I counter: As it stands, it is easier to fathom who we are, where we came from, and where we are heading than it is to elucidate the behavior of millions of voters in the first 25 years of the third millennium.

What could have induced millions of voters to think it was a good idea to entrust the presidency of the Republic, for eight consecutive years, to a man who has never cracked a book nor mastered the rudiments of writing? What bee buzzed in the bonnets of that multitude who, bowing to the dictates of a functional illiterate, acquiesced to replacing him for five and a half years with [Dilma Rousseff,] a cipher incapable of coherent thinking? The light at the end of the tunnel seemed to materialize in 2015 with Operation Car Wash: now everyone is equal before the law, the professional hopefuls believed, until the ransacking of the catacombs reached the basements of the Supreme Federal Court. “We need to staunch the bleeding,” warned veteran crook Romero Jucá. A consortium promptly assembled by malefactors strewn across the three branches of government did far more than that.

Five years post-genesis, the longest and most audacious Brazilian-style western is drawing to its predictably repulsive end. In this debauched deformation of the American movie genre, the brigand chases the hero, and the villains ultimately prevail, with the flagrant complicity of the justices in the country’s capital. This cabal of cutthroats incarcerates sheriffs and deputies, maintains a tight leash on those suspected of probity, releases all imprisoned accomplices, and officially seizes control of the town. Proudly posing as champions of law and order, they proceed to bedevil the lives of decent men.

Were this merely a screenplay, it might be amusing to observe this upside-down world, since the light at the end of the tunnel would show two hours later. However, this western simply mirrors what indeed is taking place in Brazil. There is just no light at the end of this preposterous tunnel. What one beholds is the darkness of the robes covering the protagonists of this abject drama. Shrouded in obscurity, the stars of the cast revoked the Constitution, brought a Congress riddled with candidates for judgment in the Praetorian High Court to its knees, transferred a sworn thief from the lockup to the hustings, and generally did whatever it took during the electoral campaign to guarantee the victory of the ex-convict. Officially, President Lula governs. But it is the cohort that has proclaimed, with as much discretion as possible, the dictatorship of the Judiciary that truly rules.

+ About Brazil

Already consigned to a meager allotment of lines in the Brazilian chapter of the Universal History of Infamy, this monstrosity is navigating its infancy nursed by law graduates who served as midwives, then became nannies, and are now contending for the mantle of First Regent. The Esteemed Plenary is the entity that imprisons (copiously) and liberates (sporadically), takes corner kicks and heads the ball, does the devil’s work, concocts stratagems, and regards the Brazilian people as a bunch of idiots. President of the Republic for the third time, Lula is already a candidate for a fourth term. The discerning and upright segment of the nation can’t believe their eyes. It’s just another miracle, the inveterate trickster has just confirmed.

In this penultimate week of January, he once more compared himself to Jesus Christ. Outraged by the absence of the governor of Minas Gerais, Romeu Zema, Lula turned the ceremony that would formalize the absolution of debts incurred by state governments with the Union into the inaugural rally of the 2026 electoral campaign. As if anyone could miss his indignation, he seemed to imply: How dare the adversary d with the Novo Party eschew even a “thank you” amplified by the sound system? It was time to stoke the dive bar rhetoric with an invocation of Christ. “What we did for the states that failed to settle their debts, perhaps only Jesus Christ would do if he were to run for the Presidency of this country.” “Perhaps,” I reiterate. Gracious as ever, the inveterate presidential candidate always in a rally concedes that Christ might reprise the feat. A draw it is.

Lula se compara a Jesus Cristo mais uma vez. Prepotência absurda. pic.twitter.com/vNO0vw6Z5Y

— Abner Medeiros 🇧🇷🇮🇱 (@abnermedeiros10) January 22, 2025

In July 2010, at a rally in Garanhuns, Lula prevailed in the duel: “If I could produce an image of the stabbings I took, and if I could take off my shirt, my body would be more lacerated than the body of Jesus Christ after the bunch of lashes he took,” he boasted. He was bested, however, in September 2016, when he reiterated the comparison to deflect another fusillade of accusations. “I possess a well-known public history,” he reminded. “I daresay only Jesus Christ sures me in Brazil. Only.” Retribution would come in March 2017, during yet another deposition to a judge within Operation Car Wash.

Initially, he lost his composure, his patience eroded by the news that he was among those targeted by revelations made by Nestor Cerveró, the former director of Petrobras, who had signed a plea bargain a couple of days prior. “Dear judge, if you knew how many people take my name in vain, sometimes I think people should read the Bible, so they don’t take my name in vain,” he declared. None of the myriad editions of the Bible mentions the name of Lula. All of them caution that it is God whose name must not be invoked in vain. But the circus deity swears he is neck and neck with the Creator.

Lula seems to believe that comparisons of this sort guarantee his permanence in power. He will, eventually, be challenging some asylum-dwelling Napoleon.

+ “Moscou é uma festa”