Brazil’s Federal Police stormed former President Jair Bolsonaro’s Brasília home, slapping an electronic ankle monitor on him like a political scarlet letter.
Breitbart reported that Supreme Federal Tribunal Justice Alexandre de Moraes, the architect of this raid, seems determined to tighten the screws on Bolsonaro. The move reeks of judicial overreach as part of a greater conspiracy to punish Bolsonaro and the right-wing in Brazil.
The raid targeted Bolsonaro’s residence and his Liberal Party’s headquarters as part of a “coup” investigation tied to the 2022 election.
Federal Police, acting on Moraes’ orders, accuse Bolsonaro of plotting with over 30 others to poison President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and overturn the election results. These are explosive claims that have no evidence, and Bolsonaro denies them, insisting he’s a patriot, not a conspirator.
Hours before the raid, President Donald Trump posted a letter on Truth Social backing Bolsonaro, calling the investigation a “witch hunt.” Trump’s support, coupled with his new 50% tariff on Brazilian goods, seems to have lit a fuse under Moraes. The timing feels less like a coincidence and more like a geopolitical jab.
Moraes didn’t stop at the ankle monitor; he banned Bolsonaro from social media, foreign diplomats, and even his own sons, Eduardo and Carlos.
A daily curfew from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. on weekdays, plus all weekend, traps Bolsonaro in a semi-open house arrest. The judiciary’s piling on restrictions like a vindictive referee in a one-sided game.
“Courage, president!” chanted Brazilians outside Bolsonaro’s home, as captured by Metrópoles, showing he still has a loyal base. But loyalty won’t undo the $14,000 seized from his home or the passport Moraes confiscated in February 2024. Bolsonaro’s legal team has two weeks to craft a defense, with a potential 43-year prison sentence looming if convicted.
Bolsonaro’s lawyers cried foul, stating, “The defense team for former President Jair Bolsonaro was surprised and outraged by the imposition of severe precautionary measures.”
Outrage is understandable when your client’s life is upended without a conviction. Yet Moraes seems to see Bolsonaro as a flight risk, despite the former president’s insistence he’s staying put.
Bolsonaro told Poder 360 he has no plans to flee Brazil or seek U.S. asylum, unlike his son Eduardo, who requested it in March.
He reiterated this to reporters post-raid, ankle monitor and all, saying he won’t hide in an embassy. His defiance is bold, but Moraes’ ban on embassy proximity suggests the judge isn’t taking chances.
Moraes accused Bolsonaro of “extortion” against Brazil’s judiciary, allegedly leveraging U.S. tariffs for amnesty. It’s a wild claim, painting Bolsonaro as a mastermind while ignoring the broader context of Brazil’s polarized politics. The judiciary’s heavy hand feels like it’s targeting a movement, not just a man.
Prosecutor General Paulo Gonet pushed for Bolsonaro’s conviction days before the raid, adding fuel to the fire. The STF’s relentless pursuit, including past raids on Bolsonaro’s family and supporters, suggests a pattern. Is this justice or a vendetta dressed up in legal robes?
Trump’s tariff announcement, citing the “witch hunt” against Bolsonaro, has turned a domestic issue into an international flashpoint. The 50% tax on Brazilian goods stings, and Moraes’ response—curfews, bans, monitors—feels like a counterpunch. Brazil’s judiciary and U.S. policy are now uncomfortably intertwined.
Bolsonaro’s final social media post before the ban was a video thanking Trump for his support. That gratitude now sits in digital limbo, silenced by Moraes’ order. It’s hard not to see this as a move to mute a conservative voice in a country where free speech is already on shaky ground.
Bolsonaro, 70, faces a legal gauntlet that could lock him away for decades. His team’s outrage reflects a deeper fear: that Brazil’s judiciary is weaponizing its power to crush dissent. The charges—poison plots, coups—sound like a thriller novel, but the stakes are painfully real.
The raid’s optics—police hauling away cash, supporters chanting—paint a nation split down the middle. Bolsonaro’s claim of feeling “humiliated” rings true for his base, who see him as a victim of a progressive agenda. Yet the STF’s accusations aren’t baseless; they demand a fair trial, not a public lynching.
Moraes’ restrictions, like banning contact with Eduardo and Carlos, hit harder than just politics—they’re personal. Eduardo’s asylum bid in the U.S. shows the Bolsonaro family knows the walls are closing in. Still, Jair’s refusal to flee suggests he’s betting on Brazil’s courts or its people.
