Since 1792, Robespierre has been framing the Supreme Federal Court.

On December 3, 1792, before the French National Convention, Maximilien Robespierre delivered one of the most lucid speeches on the nature of revolutionary power and justice. In arguing against the trial of Louis XVI, Robespierre revealed a ruthless logic that should resonate even today in the Brazilian Supreme Federal Court, as the innocence or guilt of the coup plotters of January 8th is debated.

Robespierre's Inexorable Logic

Robespierre was categorical: "Louis was deposed for his crimes. Consequently, Louis cannot be judged. Either he is already condemned, or the Republic is not absolved. To suggest that Louis XVI be judged in any way is to regress towards royal and constitutional despotism." The logic was crystal clear: "If Louis can still be brought to trial, he can still be acquitted. In fact, he is presumed innocent until proven guilty. If Louis is acquitted, what then happens to the Revolution?"

Robespierre's argument established a fundamental premise: if an enemy of the Republic can be judged, then he can be innocent; if he is innocent, then the Republic itself is criminal and the people who established it are criminal. There is no middle ground in the confrontation between democracy and autocracy.

The Supreme Federal Court and Democratic Logic

The Brazilian Supreme Court, by unanimously accepting to indict Jair Bolsonaro for the crimes of coup d'état and attempted abolition of the democratic rule of law, unconsciously applied Robespierrean logic. Bolsonaro and his allies are accused of "discrediting the electoral system, inciting attacks on democratic institutions, and orchestrating exceptional measures with the aim of preventing the inauguration of the elected president."

If Bolsonaro is innocent of these accusations, then Brazilian democracy in 2022 was criminal, the elections were fraudulent, and the Supreme Court is a usurping power. If the coup was legitimate, then the democratic resistance was illegitimate. There is no middle ground: either Bolsonaro tried to destroy democracy, or Brazilian democracy does not exist.

It seems that the Supreme Federal Court (STF) does not understand that judging Bolsonaro is not just a legal matter, but an existential one for the Republic. The rapporteur, Alexandre de Moraes, emphasized that "Brazil will reach 2025 with a strong democracy and independent institutions" and that the judgment demonstrates that "the guidelines defined by the 1988 Federal Constitution have proven correct and have prevented numerous setbacks."

The American Capitulation

In the United States, special prosecutor Jack Smith dropped all federal criminal cases against Donald Trump after his election victory, following "the Justice Department's long-standing policy against prosecuting a sitting president." Smith acknowledged that "the evidence against Trump would have led to his conviction at trial" had it not been for his election victory.

The difference is stark: while Brazil is prosecuting its former coup-installed president, the US is dropping cases against its own. Trump perfectly understood that "his best hope of avoiding trials was to win the presidency again," turning American democracy into a hostage of its own rules.

Applying Robespierre to the American case: if Trump is innocent of the accusations of election interference and insurrection, then January 6th was legitimate, the 2020 elections were fraudulent, and "democratic justice" is political persecution. But the United States refuses to confront this logic, preferring the comfort of impunity to the rigor of truth.

Fascism in its Larval Stage: The Lesson of Weimar (1923-1933)

The rise of Nazism demonstrates how fascism operates in its larval stage within democratic institutions. In 1928, the Nazi Party obtained only 2,6% of the vote; by 1932, it was already the largest party in Germany with 37,3% of the vote. Crucially: "more than half of the Reichstag deputies elected in 1932 had already publicly committed themselves to ending parliamentary democracy" (as the governor of São Paulo does, didactically, today).

Hitler never obtained an absolute majority, but was appointed chancellor on January 30, 1933, "as a result of a political agreement" with conservatives who believed they could control him. Once in power, Hitler quickly established totalitarian control: he abolished trade unions and political parties, passed the Enabling Act on March 23, 1933, and transformed the Reichstag into a merely advisory body.

The rise of Nazism "stemmed from the intimidation of non-militant left-wing parties, who saw politicians being arrested, beaten, and killed." Even in 1933, despite all the repression, the Nazis did not win a majority of the vote, demonstrating that "fascism is a sham" that "appears to be democratic but as soon as it gains enough strength, it gets out of control."

The lesson is clear: democratically elected representatives and senators whose ultimate goal is to dismantle democratic institutions cannot be tolerated in the legislature. Fascism uses democracy to destroy democracy. Between 1923 and 1933, the Nazis used courts, elections, and parliament to strangle the Weimar Republic. Tolerating "larval" fascism is paving the way for its dictatorial metamorphosis.

Combative Democracy vs. Suicidal Democracy

Brazil in 2025 echoes France in 1792: a young republic that understands it cannot coexist with its gravediggers. For the first time in history, "a former elected president is placed in the dock for crimes against the democratic order established by the 1988 Constitution." Does the Supreme Federal Court believe that prosecuting Bolsonaro is defending the very existence of Brazilian democracy?

The United States, in contrast, chose the paralysis of "impartiality" in the face of the coup attempt. Trump's presidency represents "a test of American political norms and the rule of law," but American institutions seem incapable of responding effectively to the authoritarian threat.

Brazil is fighting for its democracy; the United States has already given up on its own. While the Brazilian Supreme Court unconsciously applies Robespierrean logic – understanding that there is no middle ground between coup plotters and democrats – the American justice system succumbs to institutional fatalism.

Robespierre concluded his speech with a warning that resonates in Brasília: "Louis must die because the nation must live." Translating this to our times: the coup must be condemned because democracy must survive. The Supreme Federal Court understood the lesson; the American courts, apparently, did not.

History will judge which system best defended its democratic institutions. For now, it is in Brasília, not Washington, that Robespierre's implacable voice echoes: if there is a judgment, it is because the Republic chose to live.