The betrayal of Sérgio Moro: How a former conservative hero helped empower the judicial persecution of Brazil’s right
By Hotspotnews
For years, Sérgio Moro was hailed by many on the Brazilian right as a symbol of integrity and the fight against corruption. As the lead judge in Operation Lava Jato, he helped expose the massive criminal networks that had looted the nation for decades. When he joined Jair Bolsonaro’s government as Minister of Justice in 2019, conservatives cheered what appeared to be a genuine alliance between law-and-order principles and a president determined to clean house.
That image has since shattered. Recent revelations, including pointed statements from Alexandre Ramagem in a recent podcast appearance, have laid bare a painful truth: Moro played a central role in blocking a key appointment that could have protected conservative voices from the weaponized judiciary we see today.
In 2020, President Bolsonaro sought to name Ramagem—a respected Federal Police delegate and longtime professional with no credible disqualifications—as Director-General of the Federal Police. Ramagem was qualified by every objective measure: class especial status, decades of service, and operational experience. Yet Moro, then still Minister of Justice, reportedly worked actively against the nomination. Instead of supporting a capable professional aligned with the government’s anti-crime agenda, he pushed for alternatives more amenable to certain judicial figures—most notably, allies close to Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes.
The result was predictable and catastrophic. The STF, led by Moraes, swiftly blocked Ramagem’s appointment on grounds of alleged “abuse of power” and lack of impartiality—claims rooted almost entirely in Moro’s public resignation drama and accusations of political interference. With Ramagem sidelined, the Federal Police remained under influence paths that conservatives argue have since enabled relentless targeting of right-wing figures, journalists, supporters of Bolsonaro, and ordinary citizens who dare to criticize the current power structure.
Ramagem has been blunt: he holds Moro as one of the primary figures responsible for the judicial persecution that has befallen the Brazilian right. By sabotaging a legitimate executive appointment and clearing the path for Moraes-aligned figures in law enforcement, Moro helped create the very conditions for the abusive inquéritos, arbitrary arrests, asset freezes, and censorship that have defined the past several years.
This is not mere hindsight. The 2020 episode marked a turning point. Bolsonaro’s administration lost control over a critical security institution at the exact moment when protection from politicized investigations was most needed. The Lava Jato hero had, in effect, handed leverage to the judicial left—contributing directly to the environment where free speech is criminalized, political opponents are jailed on dubious pretexts, and the right is systematically demonized as a threat to democracy.
Today, as Brazilians look toward 2026, the lesson is stark. Trust in figures like Moro must be earned through consistent actions, not past glories or media-created personas. When push came to shove, he prioritized personal or institutional alliances over defending executive authority and shielding conservatives from overreach.
The Brazilian right deserves leaders who fight for sovereignty, due process, and constitutional balance—not those who, whether by design or miscalculation, empower the very forces that now suppress dissent. Ramagem’s words serve as a necessary reminder: betrayal from within hurts far more than attacks from without. Conservatives must remember who stood with principle when it mattered most—and who did not.