In a bold move that’s rattling international corridors, the United States has slapped human rights sanctions on Brazilian Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes, accusing him of trampling civil liberties with an iron fist.
Breitbart reported that the Trump administration’s punitive actions against de Moraes, citing censorship and arbitrary detentions, have fractured Brazil’s highest court while drawing sharp lines between conservative and socialist factions in the country.
Let’s rewind to July, when the U.S. State Department quietly revoked de Moraes’ visa, signaling early discontent with his actions.
This was no small jab; it set the stage for a larger showdown. Reports later surfaced that de Moraes had been targeting conservatives, including Americans, through censorship on social media platforms owned by U.S. companies.
On Wednesday, the U.S. Treasury Department dropped the hammer, imposing sanctions under the Global Magnitsky Act for what they called severe violations of human rights.
Secretary of State Marco Rubio didn’t mince words, stating, “serious human rights abuse,” about de Moraes’ alleged detentions and suppression of free speech. It’s hard not to see this as a stand for liberty against what looks like judicial overreach.
Secretary of the Treasury Scott Bessent echoed the sentiment, accusing de Moraes of an “oppressive campaign” that targets everyone from Brazilian citizens to former President Jair Bolsonaro. If true, this paints a picture of a judge acting more like a political enforcer than a guardian of justice. One has to wonder if power has gone unchecked for too long in Brazil’s highest court.
Adding fuel to the fire, President Trump issued an executive order labeling Brazil a national security threat, pointing fingers at both de Moraes and President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva for silencing conservative voices.
The sanctions aren’t just symbolic—they block de Moraes from American banking systems and bar U.S. entities from dealing with him. It’s a financial chokehold meant to send a message: the U.S. won’t stand idly by while freedoms are curbed.
Back in Brazil, the fallout is palpable, with the Supreme Federal Tribunal (STF) showing visible cracks, as reported by local outlet Poder360.
De Moraes tried to rally his fellow justices to sign a letter defending him against U.S. criticism, but the effort flopped spectacularly. An “institutional note” was issued instead, dodging any direct mention of the United States—a diplomatic sidestep if there ever was one.
Poder360 sources noted that over half the 11 justices found a signed response to U.S. actions “inappropriate,” leaving de Moraes isolated. Talk about a cold shoulder; even in a court of law, unity seems in short supply. This rift suggests not everyone in Brazil’s judiciary is willing to back de Moraes’ controversial tactics.
President Lula, a known socialist, attempted to stage a show of solidarity with a dinner at the presidential palace, but only six justices, including de Moraes, showed up, per Folha de São Paulo.
Poder360 claimed Lula wanted a photo of “unity” with all justices holding hands, but instead, the event highlighted division. If a picture is worth a thousand words, this one screams discord.
De Moraes isn’t just a judge; he’s arguably Brazil’s most powerful official, with a history of aggressive moves against conservatives. During Bolsonaro’s presidency, he led a campaign against so-called “fake news,” ordering violent raids on journalists, comedians, and online personalities who supported the former leader.
His legal crusade against Bolsonaro himself is equally contentious, with accusations from the socialist government of coup plotting and even attempted poisoning after the 2022 election.
De Moraes has ordered police raids on Bolsonaro, slapped him with social media bans, forced him to wear an ankle monitor, and threatened arrest for public appearances. This level of control over a former president feels less like law and more like a personal vendetta to some observers.
On Friday, de Moraes made his first court appearance since the sanctions, using his opening statement to blast Bolsonaro’s son, Eduardo, calling him a “liar” and “traitor.”
Eduardo, a former congressman now in the U.S., has been pushing for American intervention against de Moraes. While passion in a courtroom isn’t new, this public outburst hardly screams impartiality.
De Moraes’ response to the sanctions was defiant, to say the least, as he told the court to “ignore” them. Earlier, he was caught on camera at a soccer game making a crude gesture—hardly the decorum one expects from a high-ranking justice. It’s as if he’s daring the world to challenge his authority, but at what cost to Brazil’s judicial credibility?
Meanwhile, conservative lawmaker Nikolas Ferreira isn’t backing down, announcing plans on Thursday to file impeachment articles against de Moraes, the 49th such motion, according to Jovem Pan. This signals a growing chorus of discontent among Brazil’s right-leaning politicians. Whether these efforts gain traction remains to be seen, but the pressure is mounting.