Paulo Moreira Leite says the media is shielding the PSDB.

What can already be assured is that, in terms of self-protection, the PSDB's scheme has proven to be much more efficient.

The PSDB's (Brazilian Social Democracy Party) protection was so successful that it was only overcome by a German multinational, Siemens, which decided to request a leniency agreement with Brazilian authorities, confessing to two decades of reprehensible practices and providing names, positions, and addresses.

It was this initiative, involving one of the world's largest companies, that changed history.

The first allegations about the PSDB's (Brazilian Social Democracy Party) kickback scheme date back to 1998 and, as can be seen, were never properly investigated or prosecuted. They languished in inquiries that failed to clarify all the evidence and indications. The press never showed the same appetite for explaining what was happening.

If there is anything truly new to be investigated today, it is to ask why there was so much evidence and yet so little investigation, unlike what was done in the Workers' Party's mensalão scandal.

In a country that today debates even the errors and possible abuses that occurred in the Mensalão trial, which betray the will to punish the accused in any way, nobody will accuse prosecutor Antônio Carlos Fernandes, nor his successor Roberto Gurgel, nor the rapporteur Joaquim Barbosa of dragging their feet, right?

The reverse is not true.

Even pioneering reports on the bribery scheme, such as Gilberto Nascimento's in 2009, which revealed so much that today leaves many people speechless regarding the PSDB in São Paulo, caused neither a stir nor concern. During this period, partial denunciations about the case entered and exited newspapers sporadically and superficially.

The situation changed when ISTOÉ remained on newsstands for two consecutive weeks, with two covers dedicated to the subject. The reports by Alan Rodrigues, Pedro Marcondes de Moura, and Sergio Pardellas brought crucial and consolidated revelations about the inner workings of the cartel of companies that managed the scheme.   

ISTOÉ magazine does well to remind readers, in its latest edition, of the existence of dozens of inquiries and investigations that were initiated and concluded without major consequences. The magazine shows that no one can claim ignorance.

The political fact is simple. If the Workers' Party's mensalão scandal had been investigated at the same pace as the PSDB's kickback scheme, which took fifteen years to reach its current stature, we would only have had a Parliamentary Commission of Inquiry to hear Roberto Jefferson's accusations in 2020. Instead of being forcibly removed from the Chief of Staff's office, José Dirceu might have been promoted to presidential candidate in 2010, and in 2013, as so many Workers' Party members dreamed, he could have been sitting in Dilma Rousseff's chair. Or perhaps Lula would have chosen Antonio Palocci as his successor.

In any case, the word "mensalão" (monthly allowance scandal) would not yet be part of the Brazilian vocabulary. Joaquim Barbosa might even have become a Supreme Court Justice – after all, since his inauguration Lula wanted to appoint a Black Justice to the STF (Supreme Federal Court) – but he would hardly have accumulated so much popularity based on a trial that might not have taken place until, perhaps, 2027.

Continuing with this bit of science fiction, it would also be interesting to ask which of the PSDB leaders were brought to trial.

Would they have been entitled to an impartial trial, or would we have applied the theory of command responsibility? Or, as in the PSDB-MG mensalão scandal, would they all have been taken to a court of first instance? Would the judges have amused themselves by making jokes about the PSDB members and their ethical speeches?

Just put faces and names to the two scandals to understand that they would never have the same outcome, right?

So far, neither the Legislative Assembly nor Congress has managed to gather enough signatures to open a Parliamentary Commission of Inquiry (CPI). This is a record, considering that between 2005 and 2006, three CPIs were operating to address the mensalão scandal.

Governor Geraldo Alckmin decided to assemble a commission to monitor the investigations. Imagine if Lula had done the same thing in 2005. At the very least, he would have been accused of using the "PT apparatus" to influence the work of Congress and the Judiciary, right?

The similarity between the scandals lies not in the individuals involved, nor in their political affiliations.

The similarity lies in the character of the Brazilian state, in its weakness in protecting itself from private interests that seek to rent and control political power. 

It is a drama that lies at the origin of the Workers' Party's mensalão scandal and helps to understand the prolonged and unpunished existence of the PSDB's kickback scheme.  

After teaching that history unfolds once as tragedy and a second time as farce, Karl Marx reminded us that men do not act under ideal conditions, which they learn from etiquette books or civics courses, but under given conditions, which they inherited from their ancestors.

Moralistic discourse likes to attribute corruption to the unscrupulousness of our politicians, which is a naive and dangerous view.

There's no doubt that unscrupulous people can get rich with money from political schemes. (There are also unscrupulous people who get rich in the private sector, on the next corner, in the first bar, and even at a child's birthday party, let's be honest).

But the money from the parties, which circulated in both cases, is a result of the distorted and brutal nature of our political regime, where democracy was accompanied by a highly lenient approach to financial rules, tailor-made so that the State could be captured and rented out by private powers.

In a brief sociological analysis, one could say that, with the end of the military dictatorship, those at the top of the pyramid began to use the private campaign financing system as a counterweight to confront popular demands.

In a democratic regime, social issues can't be treated like a dragon's chair at the DOI-CODI (Department of Political and Social Order), can they? The attempt, then, is to soften the blow for those at the top.

That is why, and for no other reason, every effort to regulate campaign funds and even to prevent voters with R$ 1 billion in votes from imposing themselves on a regime that, on paper, stipulates the rule that 1 man = 1 vote, has always been met with words of feigned horror.

In this respect, the confessions of Siemens executives contain useful lessons for everyone.

One of the most valuable pieces of information is a manager's diary, which details the negotiations for the construction of line 5 of the São Paulo metro. It becomes clear there that private companies are in control. They negotiate agreements, share works, services and, of course, funds. Interested in the metro, a project that is more than necessary, both for the population and for its political plans, the government – ​​the head of state at the time was Mário Covas – is reduced to absolute impotence.

He lacks the political clout to enforce what the law mandates, which is impartial and absolute competition between the parties. It doesn't even occur to him to report his practices to the authorities.

In times of accelerated privatization, a novelty that the PSDB helped bring to the country at the time, along with spending controls that prohibited any major expenditure, the possibility of handing over such a grand investment to the State is unthinkable.  

In this situation, the government is forced to yield to the cartel of fake competitors and sham adversaries, at the risk of facing lawsuits, protests, and investigations that will paralyze investments.

This is how the governor, referred to as the "client" in the newspaper, sends his message that he wants "them to come to an understanding." The "client" also warns that after the agreement between the competitors, he will reject any future complaints or grievances.

In an article about the case, columnist Maria Cristina Fernandes, from Valor, recalls that, over the years, the Workers' Party governments also did the same thing, installing in the Ministry of Transport – a repository of large expenditures – parties with "notorious expertise in political contracts."

This murky situation has a purpose. The aim is to prevent the emergence of new obstacles to investments needed by the country. 

It's foolish to try to see what goes on behind the scenes with the simplistic viewpoint of mere moralism.

The country needs investment to create jobs and develop. Infrastructure projects, such as subways, are intended to overcome a historical neglect. The issue is political and involves defining rules that allow Brazilian democracy to regain its sovereignty, keeping private money away from politics and politicians. Its place is in the economy, not the state.

We know that the need for political reform is supported by 85% of Brazilians. It could prohibit the use of private money in political financing, cutting the material link that lies at the origin of everything. A scandal of this magnitude could be very useful in this debate.

Those who claimed that the debate on electoral reform was an excuse used by their opponents now have the opportunity to adopt an honest stance and engage in the discussion. This is not a war between bribe-takers and those involved in corruption scandals, but an effort to emancipate democracy from interests other than popular sovereignty.