The Marisa Case: The Ethics of Lava Jato and the PCC
Journalist Luis Nassif questions: "What was the intention of Sérgio Moro and the Lava Jato prosecutors in indicting Mrs. Marisa?"; "They released as evidence of a crime the pedal boats that Mrs. Marisa bought for her grandchildren. They invaded her house, entered her bedroom, even rummaged through the mattress. They took her husband into custody, and exposed her children countless times in the court of public opinion," he recalls, comparing the persecution to the "bloodthirsty leaders" of the PCC, "who are not content with image assassinations and civilian deaths: they physically eliminate their adversaries."
By Luis Nassif, from GGN newspaper - What was the intention of Sérgio Moro and the Lava Jato prosecutors in indicting Mrs. Marisa? From a legal standpoint, none. They never proved that the triplex apartment belonged to Lula. Even if it did, there was nothing that could be attributed to Mrs. Marisa. She did not participate in political discussions, much less in business dealings. She limited herself to caring for her children and grandchildren and providing emotional support to her husband.
The intention was purely political, to attack, attack, attack Lula until he collapsed emotionally.
There is no ethics in war. And the concept of the enemy does not exist in law. Lava Jato became a war operation, hunting the enemy, and the law became an instrument of revenge.
They didn't see the figures of the mother and grandmother, but only the wife of the enemy to be killed.
They presented as evidence of a crime the pedal boats that Mrs. Marisa bought for her grandchildren. They invaded her house, entered her bedroom, and even rummaged through her mattress. They took her husband into custody and exposed her children countless times in the court of public scrutiny.
This continued exercise in cruelty, more than a legal style, is a mark of character.
It can be found in various characters and situations, each one subordinated to the rites of the class and the prerogatives of the profession.
In the Judiciary, it breeds some vengeful judges. In the Public Prosecutor's Office, some would-be Torquemadas. Each seeks the enemy's jugular, making use of the weapons institutionally conferred upon them. Don't expect moments of civility, sprinkles of respect, droplets of humanity from them.
In the PCC (Primeiro Comando da Capital), there are bloodthirsty leaders who are not content with mere image assassinations and civilian deaths: they physically eliminate their adversaries. In the Military Police, there are soldiers who, with a revolver in hand, consider themselves masters of the world and of lives. In crime, the power of the leadership depends solely on meritocracy: there are no competitive exams, nor pre-defined career paths with job and salary plans. And they are at risk, because they do not have the protection of the State. They are cruel and they are brave.
In common, all avengers, both lawmen and outlaws, share a cruelty of character, an endless pleasure in kicking their opponent in every way, in treating them as an enemy; the outlaws killing people, the lawmen exposing them to the enemy's criminal law, dehumanizing them, turning housewives into accomplices, grandmother's gifts to grandchildren into evidence of a crime, violating their room, their dressing table, their memories.
Today, in the Lava Jato operation, Judge Moro and each prosecutor will add another mark to the virtual holster from which they wield their legal weapons. They should at least lock the door before starting the celebration.