THE GREED OF THE RICH EMPOWERED THE POOR CRIMINAL WHO NOW DEMANDS THE BILL – AND LULA CARRIES HIS SHARE OF THE BLAME
By Hotspotnews
The collapse of Banco Master was not just another bank failure—it marked a perverse power reversal in Brazil. The unchecked greed of bankers and tycoons built a multi-billion-dollar house of cards that has now turned against them, while organized crime—once used as fuel for the scheme—now stands at the door demanding its money back with real threats. At the political center of this storm stands President Lula, linked to the scandal through discreet meetings, million-dollar contracts paid to close allies, and a government that many accuse of turning a blind eye for too long.
Daniel Vorcaro, the bank’s controlling shareholder, constructed an illusion of success: offering CDBs yielding an impossible 140% of the CDI, selling fake credit portfolios worth R$ 12–17 billion to Banco de Brasília (BRB), and using Reag-managed funds to launder money and hide massive losses. The total hole is estimated between R$ 12 billion and figures as high as R$ 50 billion (or more in some reports), forcing the Credit Guarantee Fund (FGC) to cover tens of billions for ordinary depositors. Organized crime entered the game lured by sky-high returns and the appearance of legitimacy in the formal financial system. After the Central Bank’s extrajudicial liquidation in November 2025, those same groups now demand restitution—flipping the traditional hierarchy: the white-collar schemer who exploited the system has become hostage to the street-level criminal he once fed.
Lula’s responsibility surfaces through several uncomfortable channels. Reports reveal an off-the-books meeting in December 2024 at the Planalto Palace between President Lula, Daniel Vorcaro, then-nominee (later confirmed) Central Bank president Gabriel Galípolo, and ministers such as Rui Costa and Alexandre Silveira—arranged by former Finance Minister Guido Mantega. Mantega was hired by the bank as a consultant earning roughly R$ 1 million per month to lobby for its interests, including pushing for a sale to the state-run BRB to absorb losses. He reportedly moved freely around government offices, facilitating access for Vorcaro.
Another key figure is former Supreme Court Justice and Justice Minister Ricardo Lewandowski, whose linked law firm received millions (reports cite over R$ 5–6 million) for legal consulting services to Banco Master—even as payments continued into periods overlapping with his ministerial role in the Lula administration before he fully stepped away from private practice. Senator Jaques Wagner (PT-BA), the government leader in the Senate, has been cited in multiple accounts as having made or facilitated professional indications (including for Lewandowski) and maintaining proximity to key players in the bank’s network.
President Lula has publicly described the matter as “technical” and not governmental, calling it a “R$ 40 billion scam” pulled off by “the Master guy” and criticizing attempts to politicize it. Yet the opposition and various media outlets see signs of negligence, omission, or worse: the bank’s explosive (and suspicious) growth unfolded during Lula’s third term, with individuals very close to the government acting as highly paid intermediaries and lobbyists. The Workers’ Party (PT) has resisted endorsing the broad CPMI (mixed congressional inquiry commission) pushed by the opposition (which has gathered hundreds of signatures), favoring narrower inquiries instead—no PT deputies have signed the main opposition request to date, raising suspicions of shielding.
While some Bolsonaro-aligned governors (such as Cláudio Castro of Rio de Janeiro) appear linked to public fund investments in Master, the scandal deeply touches Lula’s inner circle: former ministers collecting substantial fees, discreet high-level meetings, and reported efforts to rescue or restructure the institution through public entities. The greed of the elite opened the door for organized crime to climb the ladder, but political power—including that of the current administration—supplied the oxygen that kept the scheme breathing far longer than regulators should have allowed.
The poor criminal now collects his lost share with blood-level interest. The rich banker mourns the ruin of his empire. And Brasília, with Lula at the eye of the hurricane, tries to confine the scandal to the courts or the “promiscuous market.” The bill, however, belongs to everyone—and it is far too large to be paid with speeches alone. Brazil watches in shock as layer after layer of rot is exposed.
