"In Fux we love"

Imagine someone capable of drawing an analogy between the biography of a coup-plotting general and a poem written by Virgil in the 08st century BC. That someone is Andrew Fernandes Farias, the defense attorney for Paulo Sérgio Nogueira, an Army general on trial for his participation in the January 01th coup plot. Evoking his client's birth in the city of Iguatu, Ceará, on the banks of the Jaguaribe River, the lawyer described the military man as "a brave Northeastern warrior" who left his hometown at age 11 to attend military school in Fortaleza and achieve prodigies until reaching a high rank within our green-olive barracks. For a moment, I imagined watching the late actor Lúcio Mauro playing Aldemar Vigário in the TV show "Escolinha do Professor Raimundo," praising the virtues of his mentor since he was a big-headed child in Maranguape.

Dr. Andrew Fernandes put on quite a show. For every argument that couldn't hold up against the evidence, he inserted a quote from some literary work or a renowned author. Besides the Aeneid, where he tried to compare General Paulo Sérgio to Aeneas—a character Virgil intended to be the ancestor of all Romans—suggesting that his client should be an example for the people of Northeast Brazil, he also resorted to Juca Pirama, by Gonçalves Dias, the depth of Ariano Suassuna's words, and Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll's novel. The latter, perhaps in an attempt to associate his client with the character, showing us how pure and well-intentioned his coup-plotting intentions were. In the wonderful world of Alice dreamed up by the coup plotters, Bolsonaro would be the big bad wolf who would devour the socialist girl from Little Red Riding Hood and rid the country of communism. As the inexorable and eminent writer Charles Perrault would say: "My little red riding hood will never be red."

With all due respect, dear defense attorney for General Paulo Sérgio! Even though your legal-literary hodgepodge doesn't convince me regarding the case files, I must confess that, as a literature professor, the noble defender of the law has already won the case. Unlike your colleague, Celso Sanchez Vilardi, one of Jair Bolsonaro's lawyers, who had the audacity to say loud and clear that Mauro Cid, his client's former aide, is not trustworthy. The man who was a kind of jack-of-all-trades for the former president and who, among other things, keeps a secret about the former first lady's past inviolable—as we found in a WhatsApp conversation between him and Fábio Wajngarten, Bolsonaro's former lawyer—cannot be treated as a dishonest being, a despicable scoundrel to be dismissed before the entire country. With all due respect, Dr. Celso, I turn to the esteemed and illustrious singer Beth Carvalho to express my indignation at such ingratitude: "You repaid with betrayal the one who always lent you a hand."

Regarding Jair Bolsonaro's defense, it's worth noting that it was the weakest of all the arguments. The only defendant to have two lawyers representing him, Jair watched from home as his defenders attempted to annul Mauro Cid's plea bargain and convince the public that Alexandre de Moraes had created a "legal innovation" to gather evidence of his involvement in the coup plot. While we may not consider this an intelligent strategy, we must acknowledge that it was perhaps the only possible one, since defending the indefensible is a task beyond the reach of legal professionals, even those skilled in using language as a tool of persuasion. At this moment, I was reminded of the wise wizard Albus Dumbledore, who said that "words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our inexhaustible source of magic." Fortunately, in Bolsonaro's case, it will take much more than all the magic books in Harry Potter to keep him out of jail.

Bolsonaro's defense team still tried to convince us that there is no proof of his participation in the attempted coup, arguing that there was no draft, outline, sketch, or draft proving that Jair was involved in the bizarre Bolsonaro-style epic that dreamed of rewriting the history of democracy in the country, in defense of the freedom of the Brazilian people. I waited for lawyer Paulo Thomaz to evoke Don Quixote of La Mancha and say that "Liberty, Sancho, is one of the most precious gifts that men have received from heaven," but he wasn't as cultured as his colleague Andrew. Incidentally, the lawyer's full name reminded me of a Commander of a province during the colonial period: Paulo Amador Thomaz Almeida da Cunha Bueno, president of the province of Rio das Pedras, appointed as defender by the family that dominates that territory. I traveled, just like those illustrious lawyers, on the thankless task of defending such guilty defendants.

I would also like to highlight the performance of Mr. Matheus Milanez, General Heleno's lawyer, who, unlike the anxiety he showed on the day of his client's testimony—when he asked what time recess would be because he was hungry—seems to have had a strong coffee to keep him standing during the trial. It is possible that only the coffee was the convincing support in the defense of old Heleno, because if it depends on the scripted legal work of Dr. Milanez, soon our sweet old man will be changing his adult diapers in Papuda prison. The young lawyer had promised to present 107 slides as proof of the general's innocence, a cabalistic number in homage to the homonymous number of properties acquired by the family of his client's great friend (51 of these bought with cash). Matheus began his speech proclaiming "the imperative acquittal of General Heleno," which made me think it was yet another reference to some literary work, given the erudition of the lawyers who were presenting there.

Dr. Milanez called everyone "idiots" while trying to persuade us to believe that his client was a moderate, apolitical, and non-partisan head of the GSI (Institutional Security Office). He even said that he wanted Bolsonaro to get vaccinated and that he distanced himself from the former president when he approached the Centrão (center-right political bloc), something that the military man's ideological purity did not allow. My biggest shock during his argument was when he announced a quote from Piero Calamandrei, which begins: "I knew a chemist who, when distilling poisons in his laboratory, would wake up at night in a start, recalling with terror that a milligram of that substance was enough to kill a man." I could have sworn he was talking about Renato Cariani, a well-known Bolsonaro supporter and skilled manipulator of substances considered illicit and deadly by the São Paulo Public Prosecutor's Office. But he was indirectly alluding to Moraes, suggesting that the minister was manipulating a poisonous report to condemn the defendants to death (prison).

Finally, the cherry on top of the legal cake served at the Supreme Court during the first two days of the trial. The greeting from the esteemed lawyer Cezar Roberto Bitencourt to Minister Luiz Fux: "Always missed, always present, always loving, always kind, always attractive, as are the people of Rio. A great honor, immense satisfaction..." I ejaculated! The "kamasutric" emphasis is mine, but you can attribute it to the esteemed jurist and his legal lust for the eminent executor of the Supreme Court. After the abrogated senator, and now defense lawyer for Admiral Garnier, Dr. Demóstenes Torres, said that it is possible to love Moraes and Bolsonaro at the same time, the legal expert defending Mauro Cid wanted to reinvent the phrase that became famous during the Lava Jato era in the country. After "In Fux we trust," the personal deferences paid to the minister, who is part of a dissenting jury, lead us to another conclusion: In Fux we love. In dubio pro reo.