Lula’s Silence on Zambelli’s Interpol Red Notice: A Convenient Dodge for Brazil’s Leftist Regime
By Laiz Rodrigues
On June 9, 2025, President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva strolled through Interpol’s headquarters in Lyon, France, basking in the glow of Brazil’s newfound clout with the organization. With Valdecy Urquiza, a Brazilian Federal Police delegate, now serving as Interpol’s first non-Western Secretary General, Lula had plenty to crow about—new task forces, enhanced cooperation, and Brazil’s supposed leadership in fighting global crime. But when pressed about the elephant in the room—the recent inclusion of federal deputy Carla Zambelli (PL-SP) on Interpol’s Red Notice list—Lula clammed up. His silence speaks volumes, and it’s not hard to see why: Zambelli’s case exposes the Brazilian left’s relentless campaign to silence conservative voices through judicial overreach.
Zambelli, a fierce ally of former President Jair Bolsonaro and a vocal critic of Lula’s Workers’ Party (PT), was added to Interpol’s Red Notice list on June 5, 2025, at the behest of Brazil’s Federal Police and Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes. Her crime? A 10-year sentence handed down by the Supreme Court’s First Chamber in May 2025 for her alleged role in a 2023 cyberattack on the National Justice Council (CNJ). The court claims Zambelli worked with hacker Walter Delgatti to plant fake documents, including a fabricated arrest warrant targeting Moraes himself. Now a fugitive, Zambelli fled to Italy, where she holds citizenship, and faces the prospect of extradition. But let’s not kid ourselves—this isn’t about justice. It’s about power.
Conservatives have long warned that Moraes, a figurehead of Brazil’s increasingly authoritarian judiciary, has weaponized the courts to target Bolsonaro’s supporters. Zambelli’s conviction is just the latest in a string of cases where opposition figures face trumped-up charges, from “anti-democratic acts” to “spreading misinformation.” The timing of her Red Notice inclusion—days before Lula’s Interpol visit—reeks of political theater, designed to humiliate conservatives and bolster the PT’s narrative of moral superiority. Yet Lula, ever the opportunist, refused to comment, dodging questions with the finesse of a career politician. Why? Because addressing Zambelli’s case would force him to confront the ugly truth: his administration is complicit in a judicial witch hunt.
Zambelli insists she’s a victim of political persecution, and the evidence backs her up. The Supreme Court’s case against her hinges on murky allegations of cybercrimes, with little transparency about the evidence or process. Unlike previous opposition figures like Allan dos Santos, whose Red Notice requests were rejected by Interpol for lack of merit, Zambelli’s conviction was rammed through with alarming speed. The message is clear: cross the PT and its judicial allies, and you’ll be hunted down, whether in Brazil or abroad. Lula’s silence at Interpol wasn’t just cowardice—it was a tacit endorsement of this vendetta.
The international angle only deepens the hypocrisy. Lula’s visit to Interpol was billed as a triumph for Brazil’s fight against transnational crime, yet he said nothing about Zambelli’s plight in Italy, where her citizenship complicates extradition. Italy’s laws allow for extradition in some cases, but the process is slow and uncertain, as seen in Lula’s own refusal to extradite leftist terrorist Cesare Battisti in 2010. Back then, Lula cloaked his decision in sovereignty and ideology. Now, he’s happy to let Zambelli twist in the wind, banking on Italy’s reluctance to hand over one of its own. It’s a double standard conservatives know all too well: one rule for the left, another for everyone else.
Lula’s reticence also betrays his fear of domestic backlash. Zambelli remains a polarizing figure, beloved by Bolsonaro’s base for her unapologetic defense of conservative values—gun rights, free speech, and resistance to leftist overreach. Commenting on her case would have invited scrutiny of Moraes’ outsized influence and the PT’s cozy relationship with the judiciary. With Brazil’s political divide as bitter as ever, Lula knows that fanning these flames could galvanize the right ahead of future elections. Better to play dumb and let the headlines focus on his photo-op with Interpol’s brass.
The conservative response must be unequivocal: Zambelli’s case is a wake-up call. The PT and its allies are using every tool at their disposal—courts, police, even international organizations—to crush dissent. Interpol’s Red Notice system, meant to catch drug lords and terrorists, is being exploited to hound a duly elected lawmaker whose real crime is opposing Lula’s agenda. Conservatives must rally behind Zambelli, demanding transparency in her case and calling out Moraes’ judicial tyranny. The Bolsonaro-led Liberal Party (PL) has already condemned the Red Notice as “arbitrary,” and grassroots movements are mobilizing to keep her case in the spotlight.
Lula’s silence at Interpol wasn’t just a dodge—it was a confession. By refusing to address Zambelli’s persecution, he’s shown the world where his priorities lie: consolidating power, silencing critics, and propping up a regime that hides behind the veneer of democracy. Conservatives must fight back, not just for Zambelli, but for the principles she represents. If Brazil’s judiciary can target a sitting deputy with impunity, no one is safe. The battle for freedom is on, and it’s time to take a stand.
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Sources: Web and X posts on Zambelli’s Red Notice, Lula’s Interpol visit, and related judicial proceedings, accessed June 9, 2025.*