The Riverside Press-Enterprise

Ex-judge and president he jailed vie for office

- By Daniel Politi and Mauricio Savarese

CURITIBA, BRAZIL >> When federal judge Sergio Moro resigned to enter politics, many in Brazil believed the anti-corruption crusader who jailed a popular former president could someday occupy the nation’s most powerful office.

But on the eve of Brazil’s general election today, the once-revered magistrate was fighting what polls showed was a losing battle for a Senate seat. And the leftist leader he jailed, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, wasn’t just walking free — he was expected to waltz back into the presidenti­al palace.

Their reversal of fortunes underscore­s Brazilians’ shifting priorities since Moro oversaw a massive graft investigat­ion from Curitiba, the capital of the country’s southern Parana state. Moro and President Jair Bolsonaro insistentl­y point to da Silva’s jail time, though the former president always has maintained his innocence and said he was railroaded. But voters are more focused on breadand-butter worries — jobs, income, inflation — after eight years of recession or rickety growth, said Bruno Brandão, executive director of anti-corruption organizati­on Transparen­cy Internatio­nal in Brazil.

“In 2018, corruption was without a doubt the most important issue in the electoral process,” Brandão said. “Today, the issue doesn’t have the same prominence among voters’ concerns.”

And Curitiba lost the limelight. Before the socalled Car Wash investigat­ion that landed da Silva and other powerful figures behind bars, the relatively young city largely populated by transplant­s offered little in the way of identity, according to Nelson

Rosário de Souza, a sociologis­t at the Federal University of Parana. Car Wash put Curitiba on the map. The multiyear probe, and Moro, struck fear into wayward politician­s and executives previously thought to be untouchabl­e.

“It shook up the collective imaginatio­n, like: ‘We’re finally the center of attention and, apparently, for something positive. We’re going to clean up Brazil,’ ” de Souza said.

Brazilians relished Car Wash’s countless phases as if they were episodes of a juicy telenovela. Movies were made. Moro’s face featured on magazines, and he was feted at Curitiba’s restaurant­s; people clapped when he entered and sent over champagne. A bona fide hero.

“You drove through Curitiba and five or six of every 10 cars had bumper stickers supporting Car Wash. Very few people in Curitiba dared criticize it,” said Luis Carlos Rocha, da Silva’s lawyer at the time.

After Moro sentenced da Silva to almost 10 years’ imprisonme­nt, Rocha visited him every weekday on the fourth floor of Curitiba’s Federal Police headquarte­rs. For 580 days, he was confined to a 160-squarefoot room. Outside, hundreds of supporters held a permanent vigil demanding his release.

Moro’s cheerleade­rs, meanwhile, set up shop outside his offices. A towering inflatable Superman with Moro’s head joined demonstrat­ors whose T-shirts read “Republic of Curitiba” — a motto adopted from da Silva’s complaint that the city appeared to observe its own laws.

Da Silva’s conviction­s enabled far-right Bolsonaro to win the 2018 race. In Parana, a traditiona­l bastion for the right, his corruption-fighting pitch resonated and he received twice as many votes as his opponent.

Then he named Moro justice minister.

But Moro overestima­ted how far his anti-corruption clout could carry him, said Emerson Cervi, a political scientist at the Federal University of Parana. Moro quit in 2020 before implementi­ng his much-touted plan, alleging Bolsonaro was seeking to interfere in the Federal Police. And Bolsonaro’s social media warriors trained their fire on the apostate.

“He thought he was going to be revered, as if he were again a judge in court, but other politician­s understood he was just a beginner,” Cervi said.

Then the Supreme Court ruled that Moro had been biased against da Silva by colluding with prosecutor­s to secure a conviction, based on a trove of messages obtained by The Intercept

Brasil. Moro pursued a “project of power, which required politicall­y delegitimi­zing the Workers’ Party and, especially, former President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva,” Justice Gilmar Mendes said last year.

With his conviction­s annulled, da Silva, known universall­y as Lula, was cleared for a presidenti­al run, and Moro prepared his own. Moro’s was a damp squib, so he put out feelers for a Senate bid in powerful São Paulo, which also foundered. He opted to run in his home state — extolling Car Wash’s virtues with an anti-lula platform — and polls last month showed him trailing well behind.

In a short interview in Curitiba, Moro downplayed lessened concern about corruption as “circumstan­tial.”

“Corruption will always be an issue in elections, maybe in some moments it won’t be the main issue,” he told The Associated Press. “The entrenched corruption inside Brazilian democracy, inside the public sector, is something that ends up breaking our democracy.”

“Lula is a symbol of impunity,” he added.

Local polls showed some late gains for Moro, said Arilton Freres, director of Curitiba-based Instituto Opinião.

That could stem from reanimated sentiment against da Silva, fueled by polls showing he may win outright today, without a runoff against Bolsonaro.

People may also care less about corruption given investigat­ions into Bolsonaro’s family members, he added.

“Voters now think, ‘If I need to vote for someone who is corrupt anyway, then I’m going to focus on what’s affecting me the most, and that’s the economy,’ ” Freres said.

Curitiba’s largest rally this year was for da Silva. His supporters worried about turnout given probolsona­ro, pro-moro inclinatio­ns, but police estimated that 12,000 people attended. The lively event became a campaign video titled “Lula in the arms of Curitiba’s people,” with people shown reaching for any part of his body they could grab.

Da Silva, who has cited his jail time to draw comparison­s to Nelson Mandela and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., told the crowd there had been a bonus: his romance with Parana native Rosângela Silva, nicknamed Janja. He has attributed his first wife’s death in 2017 to pressure from Car Wash.

“There are people who think I hate Curitiba because I was imprisoned here,” he said. “Jail made me learn to love Curitiba, because it was here, in jail, that I met Janja, and it was here that we decided to marry.”

And he recognized those who sustained the 580-day vigil: “Thank you, Curitiba, for everything you did for me and for Brazil.”

On Twitter, Moro called the rally “unbelievab­le,” adding it reflected a legal system that allows the corrupt to walk.

Two weeks later, he addressed a crowd of about 100 at a private club in Curitiba, saying “many lies have been told about Car Wash.” Afterward, dozens eagerly snapped photos with the famous former judge.

One of his voters, Juliane Morvan, said Curitiba still feels wronged by da Silva’s release, though she criticized Moro for “going around certain laws to force Lula’s imprisonme­nt.”

“I agree with his (Moro’s) morals and ethics and, on balance, he did more good things than bad,” Morvan, 28, said near the Federal Police building. “I want to give him a chance to see what he wants to do.”

 ?? PHOTOS BY THE ASSOCIATED PRESS ??
PHOTOS BY THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
 ?? ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United States