The next day

September 11, 2025, entered Brazilian political history. On that date, the First Panel of the Supreme Federal Court sentenced Jair Bolsonaro to 27 years and 3 months in prison under a closed regime for the crimes of attempted coup d'état, violent abolition of the Democratic Rule of Law, armed criminal organization, aggravated damage, and deterioration of listed heritage. It was a tough, technical, and historic trial. For more than 24 hours, the country followed, live, a vote-by-vote that restored the confidence of a large part of society in the strength of institutions and in the capacity of the Justice system to confront those who attacked democracy.

This is a civilizational milestone. Brazil has clearly stated that there is no place for adventurers who wish to destroy the foundations of the Republic. The condemnation of Bolsonaro and his generals is the symbolic equivalent of the reckoning we needed to have done earlier regarding the authoritarian period that deprived us of our freedom for 21 years (1964-1985). It is the moment when Brazilian democracy looks at itself and says: we will not accept a repeat of January 8th, we will not accept violence replacing the vote. Never again to dictatorship.

A fight that is not yet over.

But while the country is still breathing the rarefied air of that historic day, the National Congress continues to discuss amnesty projects for those involved in the attacks on the headquarters of the Three Branches of Government on January 8, 2023. The contrast is shocking: on one hand, the Supreme Court reaffirms that the Democratic Rule of Law is non-negotiable; on the other, parliamentarians are pushing to pardon those who invaded the Presidential Palace, the National Congress, and the Supreme Court, destroying public property and threatening the constitutional order.

The amnesty bill, which is already being processed under urgent procedure, is defended by the PL — Bolsonaro's party — and by a large part of its base in Congress. Its defenders argue that many were merely "peaceful protesters," who "were deceived" or "didn't know what they were doing." But what is at stake is much more than the individual situation of each defendant: it is the message that Brazil will send to the world about its willingness to punish crimes against the democratic state. A broad amnesty could mean the demoralization of sentences, weaken the pedagogical effect of the trial and, in practice, signal that attacks against democracy may not have lasting consequences.

It is true that there is room for debate about the gradation of sentences, about distinguishing those who planned from those who merely followed the crowd. But the haste to vote on this collective pardon, just days after the most emblematic conviction of a former president in republican history, sounds like an affront. It is a direct challenge to the Supreme Court, the Attorney General's Office, and civil society itself, which clamored for justice.

What will come next? A Congress that insists on amnesty? A Supreme Court that may be called upon to judge the constitutionality of this law? A society that will have to decide whether to take to the streets, this time, to defend democracy in times of institutional normality? These are questions that open the second part of this article—because September 11, 2025, that historic day, was not the end of anything; it was the beginning of a new chapter.

The Day After: The Future of Democracy in Dispute

If September 11th was a day of victory for democracy, the following day brought back the old Brazil: a country where Parliament tries to erase what the Judiciary has written. The rush to vote on the amnesty bill shows that Bolsonarism doesn't surrender easily—it merely changes trenches. The battlefield now is the National Congress, and it is there that it will be decided whether Bolsonaro's conviction will be a full stop or just a comma.

Scenario 1: Amnesty Approved

If the amnesty is approved broadly, we will be facing a institutional shockThe Supreme Federal Court (STF), if prompted, could declare part or all of the text unconstitutional, arguing that crimes against the Democratic Rule of Law cannot be pardoned without individualized judgment. This will be an extreme test for the separation of powers. It will also be a test for the government, which will have to decide whether to approve or veto it, whether to confront or negotiate.

The political impact would be immediate: Bolsonaro, even convicted, would gain new symbolic momentum. His allies would say that Parliament "corrected" an "exaggeration by the Justice system." For a segment of the population, it would be confirmation that in Brazil "everything ends in a cover-up." For another segment, it would be the trigger for new protests, this time not to attack Brasília, but to defend it.

Scenario 2: Amnesty Rejected or Blocked

If the bill fails—whether through defeat in the plenary session or a presidential veto being upheld—the message will be different: the country will not accept mitigating the responsibility of those who attacked the Republic. The decision will reinforce the educational effect of the conviction and consolidate the authority of the Supreme Court. But it will also increase tension with the radical right, which will seek new forms of mobilization, including in the 2026 elections, transforming the defendants of January 8th into martyrs.

Scenario 3: The “Partial Amnesty”

Congress could attempt a compromise solution: pardoning only the least involved protesters, maintaining punishments for the financiers and orchestrators of the coup, and revising some sentences to make them proportionate. This scenario would be an attempt at appeasement, but it would not eliminate the risk of confrontation. The line between justice and impunity would remain thin, and any misstep could reopen the wound.

The Role of Society

None of these solutions will be peaceful. Society will not remain silent. Just as in 2023, when Brazil took to the streets to say "no" to the coup, citizens, social movements, academic institutions, and unions will need to do their part. The message must be clear: coups are not forgiven, democracy is not negotiable. Omission could be costly.

September 11th will be remembered as the day the Supreme Federal Court showed that no one is above the law. But the true stress test of the democratic system is yet to come. Bolsonaro's trial was historic, yes. But the story doesn't end with the reading of the convictions of Bolsonaro and his accomplices who plotted the coup d'état. It continues in Parliament, in the streets, at the ballot box, and in the collective imagination.

Brazil is at a crossroads: it can reaffirm its commitment to the democratic rule of law, or it can open a dangerous loophole allowing new adventurers to feel emboldened to try again. More than ever, it is a time for vigilance. Democracy has won a battle, but the war for its preservation continues.