For decades, Brazil has earned
itself an international reputation as a land of impunity, where corrupt
politicians, crime bosses, and former military torturers have been able to live
above the law, unburdened by the fear of having to pay for past misdeeds. With
a weak and deferential court system burdened by systemic corruption,
parliamentary immunity against prosecution, and a generous amnesty law
shielding past members of the military regime, the government and its citizens
were virtually powerless to hold the powerful elite to account. No story better
exemplifies this state of affairs than that of former president Fernando
Collor. After resigning the presidency and being impeached by the Senate in
1992 on corruption charges, he was acquitted by the country’s Supreme Federal
Tribunal (STF), the nation’s highest court. Collor lay low for a decade, but
returned to politics in 2006 and was elected to the Senate, where he currently
serves. Many Brazilians I talk to are infuriated by Collor’s presence in their
highest legislative body, and point to this as evidence that the rule of law
does not seem to apply to the country’s ruling elite.
This state of affairs is more
than simply unjust. It is a major inhibitor of the country’s development. I have
written before about the importance of developing shared norms and rules to
govern societal interactions in order to build an economy’s human capital stock
and improve its prosperity. The rule of law is an essential ingredient in this
process. It represents the truest form of fairness that human society has yet
developed: communities coming together to determine their own rules and
enforcement procedures to guarantee that each individual will be held to the
same standards. When the rule of law is not strong in a society and decisions
appear to be made arbitrarily by government officials, citizens’
faith in the collective is undermined.
Many of the world’s major emerging
economies are struggling to build an adequate rule of law (China and Russia
come to mind). Brazil is much further along in this regard, as it has fully functional legislative, executive and judicial institutions defined within a
constitution supported by popular mandate. But the country’s long tradition
of impunity for the elite undermines faith in these institutions, and thus
weakens the rule of law. When those at the top do not play by the same rules,
those below fear that strict obedience to rules and laws will put them at a
disadvantage. This has led to the famed “jeitinho brasileiro” (Brazilian way),
a strategy for circumventing rules and procedures by a variety of approaches,
such as using insider contacts, emotional appeals, or offering favors. Such
behavior is considered a necessary strategy to get ahead here, but it poses a
major challenge to Brazil in terms of building an honest, fair, meritocratic
society.
Despite this disappointing
history, there is reason to hope that Brazil is finally turning a corner. In a previous
text, I mentioned some positive signals in the country’s fight against
corruption, most notably a new Freedom of Information Act to empower citizen
watchdogs as well as the “Clean Record” law that bars those convicted of a
crime in the last eight years from holding office. But the most heartening
signs of change are coming from an institution that was once widely distrusted by
the public: the Supreme Federal Tribunal itself.
The Mensalão Trial and the CNJ
Over the last several months,
Brazilians across the country have been glued to their televisions watching
daily broadcasts from the STF as the court tries the most high-profile
corruption case in its history. Known as the “mensalão” (big
monthly payment), the scandal dates back to President Lula’s first term in
office, when some of his top aides and congressional allies were caught
diverting money from state-owned enterprises in order to buy votes in the
Congress. The scandal caused a massive uproar in the press, as it embroiled
President Lula’s chief of staff and presumed successor, José Dirceu, who was
accused of coordinating the scheme on behalf of the executive. Although Mr. Dirceu
was expelled from Congress, President Lula denied any knowledge of the incident
and went on to be reelected by a wide margin just a year later. Furthermore,
Mr. Dirceu’s replacement as chief of staff, Dilma Rousseff, was elected president
in 2010, and members of the ruling PT claimed that the election results spoke
for themselves, acquitting the party of any wrongdoing.
While the scandal did not
shake the PT’s hold on power, it did spring the country’s judiciary into
action. The attorney general brought charges against 38 individuals, including Mr.
Dirceu, accusing them of money laundering, embezzlement, corruption, and
formation of a criminal gang. After six years of legal wrangling, the STF
finally heard the case this year. Many Brazilians were cynical about the
process. Opinion
polls showed that, while the vast majority believed that those involved
were guilty, few believed they would actually be convicted, considering that
eight of the court’s eleven ministers were PT appointments. It was thus a
pleasant surprise when 25 of the accused were convicted, including the PT’s three
“big fish”: Mr. Dirceu, José Genoino, the PT’s ex-president, and Delubio Soares,
ex-treasurer of the party. While the STF is just beginning to hand out
sentences and many are still skeptical that any of these three will serve
prison time, it has nevertheless been a watershed moment for Brazil. There is growing
hope that the case is a sign of things to come, that the STF will begin to
exert its influence as a fair and independent arbitrator, and that impunity
will no longer have free reign. There is no denying the important psychological
impact the case has already had across society.
The Mensalão case comes on the
heels of another recent groundbreaking decision from the STF. In 2010, Eliana
Calmon, a career judge, was appointed as head of the National Council of
Justice (CNJ), an ombudsman agency for the judiciary. She quickly
earned a reputation as a fiery crusader determined to promote
accountability and fight corruption, excessive benefits, nepotism, and general
sclerosis and inefficiency within the third branch of government. Ms. Calmon made
headlines when she accused many of the country’s judges of being “bandits who
hide behind their togas” (referring to the black robes high-ranking judges wear
in court), interested only in advancing their own interest rather than
promoting the rule of law. The judiciary pushed back, threatening to curtail
the CNJ’s investigative powers. Yet the public rallied to her cause, and Ms. Calmon
quickly emerged as a popular hero in social media and national news outlets. The
issue came to a head in February of this year, when the STF voted
by a nail-biting 6-to-5 margin to maintain the ombudsman’s full powers
intact. Ordinary Brazilians were overjoyed by the news, and Ms. Calmon even earned
a Carnival float in her honor. Former President Fernando Henrique Cardoso was
effusive in his praise, calling the case “crucial for Brazilian democracy”.
Future Cases
Several upcoming cases will
continue to test the mettle of the STF and will serve as crucial indicators as
to whether the Mensalão trial and the CNJ case were flashes in the pan or signs
of a broader shift. The first of these is expected to be the “Mensalão Mineiro”,
a vote-buying program in the state of Minas Gerais run by the PSDB that was
widely seen as the model for the PT-led scheme (even involving some of the same
individuals). The second is a more recent scandal involving a major organized
crime boss, “Carlinhos Cachoeira” (Charlie Waterfall), who was arrested earlier
this year. Extensive wiretaps have revealed Mr. Cachoeira’s relation to
numerous high-level politicians, including Demostenes Torres, a right-wing
senator who gained fame in 2005 for leading the congressional inquiry
into the Mensalão scandal. Mr. Torres was recently removed from the Senate by
his colleagues and looks likely to face prosecution in the near future. A
congressional panel continues to investigate the affair, but it may end up
ensnaring several governors and congressmen and is likely to have involved the
embezzlement of hundreds of millions of reals earmarked for construction
projects. At some point, the case is likely to end up at the STF as well.
PT leaders, including former
President Lula, have been especially keen to prosecute both cases, as they see
them as a chance to even the score following the Mensalão trial. In essence, political
parties are now eager to use corruption scandals in order to discredit their
opponents and strengthen their popular support. These motivations may not be
pure, but they do represent a hopeful sign in the struggle against impunity.
Rather than politicians conspiring amongst themselves to avoid prosecution,
they now see anti-corruption crusades as their ticket to electoral success.
This should ultimately help to strengthen the rule of law, providing that an
attentive public and investigative media continue to press the issue.
In addition to corruption
scandals and oversight of the judiciary, Brazilians have opened up one more
front in their fight against impunity: the blanket amnesty for those involved
in the military dictatorship. I have written
before about President Rousseff’s promotion of the Truth and Reconciliation
Commission that is currently investigating human rights violations by the former
regime, an issue that her predecessors preferred to avoid altogether. Before
relinquishing control, Brazil’s generals passed a generous amnesty law that
would shield them from any future prosecutions. Unlike
its Southern Cone neighbors, Brazil chose to keep the law on the books well
after its democracy became firmly established. A 2010 STF review upheld the
law, although it was struck
down later that year in a non-binding decision by the Inter-American Court
of Human Rights. Yet the issue remains a somewhat grey legal area, and human
rights lawyers have argued that kidnapping and torture of “disappeared”
individuals constitutes an ongoing crime that is not protected by the amnesty
law. They were
successful this week in convincing the São Paulo judiciary to take
up just such a case. While no one is sure where such prosecutions will lead,
and what the end result of the Truth Commission will be, there is growing
optimism that Brazil will finally gain some closure on the issue and end the
legacy of resentment and frustration caused by the amnesty law.
Problems Ahead: Will Real Reforms Come?
While these recent cases have created
some optimism around the future of the Brazilian judiciary, a few words of
caution are in order. High profile corruption cases may cause a political stir
for some time and generate hope that the system will be forced to change, but that
is not necessarily the case. Italy is the perfect example of this. The “Bribesville” corruption
scandals in the early 1990s toppled the entire political order and brought to
power new parties and individuals who promised to bring about major change. Twenty
years later, Italy is facing
a new Bribesville, as a new series of scandals has emerged and the
political order is once again in flux. Without undergoing major reforms to root
out corruption and change its political culture, the country wound up repeating
its own history. A series of cases in front of the STF may make Brazilians feel
that justice has been served, but it will ultimately be meaningless if major
reforms to combat white-collar crime are not undertaken as well. A former president of the STF recently
claimed that the Mensalão trial would not change the country’s history if
not accompanied by more meaningful political reforms to change the process of
coalition-building in Congress and discourage vote-buying schemes.
Looking at just the Mensalão
trial alone, the weaknesses in Brazil’s judiciary are readily apparent. The
general sensationalism of the trial was on full display during the proceedings,
as ministers at time switched
their votes following public outcry that they were being too lenient. Two
separate votes to condemn Mr. Dirceu were taken right before the first and second
rounds of the municipal elections, causing suspicion among many observers that
the timeline was planned for political theatre.
The bigger problem, however, has
been the relative inefficiency of the process. The case took six years to be
tried, highlighting the complexity and slowness of the judiciary. (The
Cachoeira case, if charges are indeed brought, is not expected to reach the STF for many years.) The trial
itself has already been ongoing for three months, and looks likely to be
extended for a significant amount of time due to a chaotic
sentencing process that had even the STF ministers confused on procedures.
The fact that politicians are entitled to trial by the STF rather than in lower
courts makes the process significantly slower, and adds to the public
perception that politicians are not treated as equal to ordinary citizens.
The wheels of justice turn
notoriously slowly in all judiciaries, including the U.S., but the sclerosis of
the judicial system is especially problematic, as it slows down the general
functioning of the economy as a whole. The World Bank’s most recent “Ease of
Doing Business index” gave Brazil
poor marks in important legal matters such as resolving insolvency,
enforcing contracts, and registering property.
There is certainly much work to be done in the future, and
changes to Brazil’s legal system, if they come, will be slow and steady, not
sudden and spectacular. But the country does seem to be moving in the right
direction. No longer will politicians be able to assume they are automatically
above the law. They are now aware that the public has the power to hold them to
account in certain situations. This in itself amounts to a sea change in the way
Brazilians view their political system.