
By Lara-Nour Walton
April 29, 2022
Something sinister was afoot in 2012 Brasilia. Money was moving unnaturally — streaming in and out of a local gas station in abnormally large quantities. Officials believed that they had flagged a routine case of laundering in the nation’s capital and zeroed in on the usual suspect: small-time doleiros (black market dealers). What their investigation uncovered was even bigger and far more unsettling. What they found imprisoned presidents, bankrupted billionaires, and paved the way for Jair Bolsonaro’s election.
In 2014, Operation Lava Jato (Car Wash) was formally launched when police discovered a suspicious email correspondence in doleiro Alberto Youssef’s inbox. Youssef had been involved and apprehended on laundering counts in the past, but had proven to be quite the recidivist. The email in question discussed a Range Rover that the doleiro had recently bought. But, this was no above-board car purchase. Youssef had bought a Range Rover for none other than the high profile Petrobras petroleum company executive, Paulo Roberto Costa. Under questioning, a somber Youssef informed police, “If I speak, the Republic is going to fall.” And fall it did.
Operation Car Wash is Brazil’s largest corruption scandal to date. The operation earned its name from being hatched at the Brasilia gas station and car wash. The scheme began as a way for the construction conglomerate, Odebrecht, to secure constant and overly-lucrative business at the national petroleum company, Petrobras. To accomplish this, Odebrecht, the ringleader of the scandal, developed a cartel of engineering companies which set inflated contract prices for petrochemical complex building projects. In custody, Costa revealed how this intricate scheme functioned: first, Petrobras directors intentionally overpaid cartel contractors for construction, drilling, exploration vessels, and refinery. Then, 1% to 5% of the profit from those shady contracts was funneled into clandestine slush funds. Elected politicians (who incidentally appointed Petrobras officials) were the beneficiaries of the funds and used them to finance personal agendas and election campaigns.
Bribes were the currency of Brazil’s elite. Everyone involved in the scandal was paid off in cash, luxury automobiles, art, Rolex watches, yachts… Money cascaded into Swiss accounts, a bevy of oversea properties were purchased, elderly mules, strapped with bricks of cash, flew from city to city, inconspicuously distributing bank notes. By the time Operation Car Wash was on law enforcement’s radar, Petrobras and Odebrecht had paid off over 16 companies, 1,000 politicians, 50 congressmen, and four former presidents (including Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, better known as Lula) with a whopping sum of $5.3 billion.
The victims of this kafkaesque scheme? Average Brazilians. Not only was the potency of their vote diluted by this operation, but their own tax dollars were funding it. No strangers to institutional corruption, Brazilians directed the entirety of their rage at the once beloved former president, Lula, his successor, president Dilma Roussef, and other members of the Workers’ Party. The party was not the only culpable entity implicated in the scandal, but received the most popular backlash — and perhaps justifiably.
The political group ascended to power to fight Brazil’s seemingly untreatable case of corruption. Yet, the disease only seemed to have metastasized in the Lula administration. Elected in 2002, Lula suffered from having a minority Workers’ Party in congress. Although he denies any knowledge of involvement in the scheme, Operation Car Wash would have allowed for the president to buy the support of small parties, thus permitting him to pass legislation through congress. The Lula administration improved the condition of working class Brazilians through policies that reduced poverty and increased social safety nets and environmental controls. He left office with an unprecedented approval rating of 80%. Lula attributes his success to securing a symbolic majority in congress through political allegiances. Instead, the immense progress he made was found to have a morally and legally unsound infrastructure. These findings eventually culminated in his 2018 arrest.
Brazilians have a complex relationship with Lula — they continue to reap the benefits of his presidency while lamenting his hypocrisy. The true test of national sentiment will be reflected in the result of the upcoming October presidential elections, which the now-released Lula has announced his candidacy for.
The imprisonment of Lula created an easy path to victory for the fringe right-wing candidate, Jair Bolsonaro. Due to the elimination of his main opponent and his anti-establishment, anti-corruption platform, Bolsonaro, sometimes referred to as the “Trump of the Tropics,” waltzed into office in spite of his notoriously racist, homophobic, and misogynistic public persona. However, the comparison to Trump is misleading. Despite sharing some qualities with the former United States president, Bolsonaro is more akin to the Philippines’ Rodrigo Duterte. And this makes him all the more dangerous. Unlike Trump, Bolsonaro and Duterte actually followed through with their alarming campaign trail claims.
Similarly to Duterte, Bolsonaro has an affinity for militarizing state police, cracking down on crime, and green-lighting extrajudicial killings. He waxes nostalgic for Brazil’s military dictatorship and has been openly threatening Brazil’s increasingly tenuous checks and balances. According to United Nations human rights activist, Clément Nyaletsossi Voule, the Bolsonaro administration encourages violence towards women, favela community leaders, journalists, quilombolas (Afro-Brazilians), and indigenous peoples. Bolsonaro shamelessly intimidates the Supreme Court, which has active investigations into his conduct, threatens his critics' freedom of speech, and makes baseless claims about fraud in the Brazilian electoral system. To Voule, it is clear: the world’s fourth largest democracy hangs by a thread.
On September 7, 2021, Brazilian Independence Day, Bolsonaro proclaimed, before tens of thousands of supporters, “Only God will remove me from power.” This ominous statement follows months of disinformation, propagated by Bolsonaro himself, about Brazil’s supposedly “fraudulent” electronic voting system. It has been speculated that such allegations intend to lay the groundwork for canceling the upcoming October 2022 elections or to contest a potential presidential loss.
With the president trailing behind his perennial foe Lula in the polls, fears that Bolsonaro will refuse to accept defeat have increased. As such, Brazil’s top election authority, Tribunal Superior Eleitoral (TSE), has invited the European Union and other international bodies to monitor the validity of the October elections. The EU plans to send a mission to Brazil this May to assess whether it can fulfill the duties of official observer.
From the outside, Operation Car Wash is a juicy scandal indeed. But at its core, it is a tragic case of government inefficiency. Lula was charged with serious crimes, to be sure, but the consequences of his alleged actions should not spell another Bolsonaro victory. Brazil might not survive it. Democracy becomes more fragile every day that Bolsonaro presides. His record-level deforestation is leaving the Amazon more vulnerable than ever. Climate expert, Marcio Astrini, has determined that the forest will not be able to withstand another four years of a Bolsonaro presidency.
Brazilians are at a critical crossroads. On October 2, 2022 they may sow the seeds of their own destruction or secure their survival. But if Brazil has learned anything from its past, it is that the power should and must, lie in the rightful hands. The people must be the final deciders — not between Lula or Bolsonaro — but rather life or death.
