From the institutional rupture of 2016 to the contest of 2026, Brazil has been undergoing a transformation in the ways power is contested. A coup no longer requires tanks in the streets; it can operate through information manipulation, digital platforms, economic and tariff pressures, institutional capture, and geopolitical interference.

Brazil approaches the 2026 elections bearing the experience of successive coup attempts—whether successful or not—and increasingly intense struggles over democratic institutions. The election cannot be understood merely as a contest between candidates; it is part of a broader historical-political process in which traditional forms of political intervention combine with digital, financial, media, and geopolitical mechanisms.

It is in this sense that we can speak of a metamorphosis in the forms of the coup, linked to the metabolism of capital. This is not to claim that the events of 1964, 2016, 2022, and 2026 are identical, but rather to recognize that their differences are precisely what allow us to understand how strategies for contesting power evolve alongside changes in wealth production, communication media, control technologies, and international relations.

In 1964, the coup took the classic form of a military coup. In 2016, Dilma’s removal occurred through an institutional impeachment process—amidst a political and economic crisis, and within the bounds of the Federal Constitution and democracy—yet without any proof of a crime. This took place while Brazil, Petrobras, and the president herself were targets of Pentagon espionage, given the recent discovery of pre-salt reserves connected to oil deposits along the Brazilian coast. As revealed by Edward Snowden, the US was monitoring strategic Brazilian information—including data related to oil—highlighting the geopolitical dimension of the struggle over the country’s strategic resources.

This set the stage for the rise of the far-right “Bolsonarista” movement in Brazil. The path was paved by the *Lava Jato* (Car Wash) operation—which acted as a coup-like mechanism—leading to Lula’s imprisonment in 2018. Judge Sérgio Moro of Curitiba ordered the detention based on accusations lacking evidence—relying instead merely on “conviction”—thereby removing Lula from the political arena and the electoral race. This process fueled anti-PT sentiment amidst a crisis, ultimately resulting in Bolsonaro’s election to the presidency in 2018.

By 2022, the coup attempt took on a different form. It involved international coordination—including the participation of Fernando Cerimedo, a far-right digital strategist who employed “bot farms” for Bolsonaro’s campaign—in an effort to discredit the electoral system. When this failed and Lula won the election, the situation culminated in the tragic events of January 8, 2023. Protesters stormed and vandalized the seats of the Republic’s three branches of government in Brasília, aiming to undermine institutions and the mandate of President Lula—who had been elected and inaugurated in a historic event featuring his ascent of the Planalto Palace ramp alongside representatives from historically excluded social sectors, such as Indigenous peoples.
This victory for Brazilian democracy featured an unexpected protagonist—someone from outside the traditional political sphere, yet fundamental to maintaining “order.” Alexandre de Moraes—a Justice of the Supreme Federal Court and a Justice of the Superior Electoral Court during the 2022 elections—upheld democratic institutions against every far-right coup attempt. He advanced the legal proceedings against the January 8th insurrectionists based on the Federal Constitution, securing convictions and imprisonments—including that of former President Jair Bolsonaro, who was sentenced to 27 years and 3 months in prison.

Furthermore, during that period, Bolsonarists lacked the unreserved US support needed to succeed in their plots; under the Biden administration—which immediately recognized Lula’s victory—the US continued to quietly support the electoral process and democracy in Brazil, according to a *Financial Times* report from June 21, 2023.

In 2026, however, the nature of the coup threat shifts; with Trump, JD Vance, and Marco Rubio in power in the US, the situation is a whole new ball game. In this neocolonialist, imperialist context, the battle for democracy plays out simultaneously on multiple fronts: electoral, institutional, economic, informational, cultural, technological, national, and international. Social media networks have come to occupy a central role in shaping public opinion.

Big Tech companies—private platforms run by far-right CEOs—have become decisive arenas for the circulation of political information, while algorithms largely determine what each individual sees, shares, and deems relevant. The struggle for power thus also becomes a struggle over our shared reality itself.

Thus, contrary to what many might have imagined—that we would face an easy election with the conviction and imprisonment of the coup plotters, we are witnessing a completely atypical election marked by direct and explicit US intervention at the behest of Jair’s sons: Eduardo Bolsonaro—who lives in the US and has called for intervention, acting like a traitor to his country—and his brother, Flávio Bolsonaro, a presidential candidate.

Flávio avoids debates and interviews to prevent exposing his involvement in the “Master” case—a bank established during his father Jair Bolsonaro’s administration—as revealed by *The Intercept*. Flávio received money from Vorcaro (the bank’s owner) under the pretext that it was for *Dark Horse*, a film about his father. He reportedly visited Vorcaro to demand payment even while the latter was wearing an electronic ankle monitor; there were also WhatsApp exchanges and a flight on Vorcaro’s private jet from Miami to Brasília—a trip Flávio publicly denied but was proven to have taken on national television via evidence from the Federal Police investigation.

Banco Master is a problem of the Bolsonaro family: it was created during Jair Bolsonaro’s term, authorized by the Central Bank under his administration, and received public funds from the Rio de Janeiro government—specifically from *Rio Previdência* (the state pension fund)—money intended for retirees. Furthermore, the bank’s director had been appointed by then-Senator Flávio Bolsonaro. Consequently, the 134 million Flávio requested from Vorcaro—whom he called “brother,” as both identify as Evangelical Christians—effectively constitutes a kickback linked to the 3 million *Rio Previdência* had deposited into Banco Master. It was only under the Lula administration that Banco Master was shut down (with the Central Bank ordering its extrajudicial liquidation), Vorcaro was investigated and arrested, and the pension funds were recovered—facts distorted by Flávio’s campaign, which accuses Lula of involvement or attempts to link him to Alexandre de Moraes instead. Vorcaro’s arrest—and the public release of all WhatsApp conversations, documents, and plea-bargain testimonies—exposed the fragility of bourgeois institutions, including the Supreme Federal Court (STF). Many of its justices were implicated in illicit dealings involving mutual benefits: for instance, Alexandre de Moraes, whose wife’s law firm held a 133-million-real contract; André Mendonça—the “terribly evangelical” justice appointed by Bolsonaro—who received 5.5 million reais via a contract with his institute, along with several suits; and Justice Kassio Nunes, who received 427 million reais to unblock court-ordered debt payments (*precatórios*), as revealed by WhatsApp messages. Kassio Nunes currently serves as President of the Superior Electoral Court (TSE)—meaning he will oversee the 2026 presidential elections—and has not resigned despite the allegations.

The STF’s credibility was shaken by the crisis surrounding the “Master” case, which implicated Alexandre de Moraes—a justice who had been pivotal in upholding democracy and thwarting the coup attempt underway in 2022. The institution was further destabilized by the actions of the “Bolsonarista Trojan horse,” Justice André Mendonça. Acting as a lackey for Bolsonarism and the US—having been trained in the same conservative circles that produced the *Lava Jato* (Car Wash) figures who imprisoned Lula in 2018—Mendonça sought to undermine the very institution to which he belongs by initiating an improper investigation into Alexandre de Moraes and attempting to expose him during a session held on September 15th.

Beyond lending money and providing financial perks, Vorcaro organized parties for this horde of conservative men, featuring Brazilian and foreign models who were hand-picked for the events. One such party, details of which emerged this September, sparked a national scandal; it brought together these men—who profess to be evangelical Christians—at a 2023 Halloween party held at a club called Madame Satã in São Paulo. The event brought together 140 people—120 women and 20 men—a ratio of roughly six women to every man. This suggests that the “Master case” is a sort of Brazilian version of the Epstein affair, demonstrating that the logic of capitalist heteropatriarchal power is not an exception unique to the United States, but rather inherent to the organization of exploitative and oppressive relations that prevail and dominate everywhere—whether in the empire itself or among the colonized ruling class.

It is in this vein that Flávio Bolsonaro pursues a sell-out agenda, featuring a government plan written in English—meaning it was not intended for Brazilians to read. The text—authored on March 19 by André Marinho (son of Flávio Bolsonaro’s substitute senator) and only recently discovered—promotes a “Prosperity Partnership” that entails handing over rare earth resources. This plan was reinforced by Flávio Bolsonaro’s remarks in Dallas on March 28, where he stated that Brazil holds the solution for the U.S. to overcome its dependence on Chinese rare earths. The following day, he met with Trump, Marco Rubio, and J.D. Vance—the U.S. Vice President and a key international figure in the far-right network known as Rockbridge—to discuss the rare earth agenda. The Rockbridge coordinator for Brazil established a campaign committee for Flávio Bolsonaro in São Paulo; the network comprises various Brazilian businesspeople.

The maneuvering surrounding rare earth minerals has added another strategic dimension to the conflict, as these are essential minerals or technological and industrial sectors of fundamental geopolitical importance—given that Brazil holds the second-largest reserves of critical minerals, alongside oil, water, and food production, as well as other strategic natural resources. Consequently, this election is not merely a domestic issue but an international one concerning sovereignty and democracy, given the role Brazil plays in the region—the Global South and Latin America—and within the BRICS bloc.

Brazil has become a battleground for imperialist and neocolonialist contention between distinct geopolitical agendas—a fact made evident in these elections. In a speech at the UN Conference in New York on the 22nd, Lula declared that “Brazil does not fit into anyone’s backyard”; he warned of the risks of foreign interference in the elections and defended Brazilian sovereignty against external pressures. He clearly positioned himself against Trump’s Monroe Doctrine—which, through its interventions, has dragged all of Latin America toward the far right and seeks to steer Brazil in the same direction.

US intervention in Latin American elections has met with success; we saw this in the case of Javier Milei in Argentina in 2025, where the US provided resources to help him overcome the crisis and remain in power—which is precisely what happened. In Colombia, the US backed businessman Eduardo de la Espriella went against Petro’s candidate—his direct rival—by initiating a drug-trafficking investigation against the latter. Espriella won and has already begun making concessions—the price paid for subservience to techno-fascist, neocolonialist imperialism. In June, under the banner of “Shield of the Americas,” Trump designated the PCC and the “Comando Vermelho” as narco-terrorist organizations, clearly paving the way for intervention.

The intervention of this decaying imperialism is undeniable and poses a threat not only to Brazilian democracy but to democracy globally; meanwhile, Meta has been taking down profiles, videos, and posts belonging to individuals who have been striving to shed light on the situation in the country. Consider Fabio Porchat’s YouTube video “Revelando” [Revealing], which clearly exposes the web of nefarious connections linking the “Master” case to evangelical churches and institutional politics, as well as the nature of Flávio’s campaign. Remarkably, Brazilian comedians are engaging in more serious journalism than the old corporate media—which avoids conveying clear, accurate information about the scandals Flávio Bolsonaro is embroiled in and the lies he tells.

Then there is the fallout from direct and indirect US interventions in the Brazilian election following Lula’s UN appearance on September 24; a group of 31 US Democratic lawmakers and Senator Bernie Sanders sent a letter to Secretary of State Marco Rubio urging respect for the Brazilian electoral process and accusing the White House of taking steps to favor Flávio’s candidacy.

Despite the support Flávio Bolsonaro received from Big Tech and the US during this period—and although polls initially indicated Lula could win and secure re-election in the first round—Flávio surged in the rankings, reaching a statistical tie with President Lula in recent days. Nevertheless, President Lula remains in the lead by about 4 percentage points (Lula 40%, Flávio 36%, according to Datafolha)—a lead shaped by recent events that have become the primary gauge of voter intentions, given the absence of public debates in this election.

The coup historically metamorphoses alongside new forms of wealth production and the manipulation of public consciousness; if 1964 saw a military coup and 2016 a “white coup” via Dilma’s impeachment, what is underway in 2026 is a techno-fascist coup. This involves direct and “indirect” interventions to control social media and information, alongside digital colonialism and the financialization of life—all driven by the U.S.’s colonialist zeal and imperialist greed, with the support of a segment of Brazilian society that clings to a racist, “mongrel-complex” slave-era mentality. This group feels comfortable with a subservient, sell-out attitude toward the U.S., as evidenced by the September 7th (Brazil’s Independence Day) rally on Avenida Paulista, where Flávio Bolsonaro appeared with the U.S. flag and effigies of Trump and André Mendonça. A gradual erosion is taking place: undermining the electoral system; delegitimizing and demoralizing the courts (especially the Supreme Court); spreading disinformation; turning sovereignty into a geopolitical commodity; and manufacturing a sense of disorder and chaos. This chaos paves the way for intervention and the seizure of strategic resources to expand the techno-fascist, colonial-imperialist agenda.

Amidst so many political, economic, and digital interventions by Big Tech companies—which have a direct stake in technological resources—there is speculation that the unexplained cancellation of the third season of the series *Cangaço Novo* stems from political-cultural interference in Jeff Bezos’s (Amazon Prime) decision-making. This move allegedly followed Trump’s declaration designating the PCC and Comando Vermelho as narco-terrorist organizations, as the award-winning series—which achieved international acclaim in over 50 countries and success across the African continent—was accused of glorifying Criminal insurgencies and banditry—much like the name of the series reviving the memory of the *Cangaço* movement from Northeastern Brazil—are largely aligned with the Left and support Lula in the elections; this is a region that suffers from the ills of internal colonialism and has benefited most from the social projects of PT governments. Unlike organized crime in Rio, which seeks to take over the State, or in São Paulo, which seeks to amass wealth via the financial elite (Faria Lima), the insurgent movements of the Northeast—such as the Quilombo of Palmares, Antônio Conselheiro’s Canudos, or even the *Cangaço*—aim to create a different country. Beyond posing a threat to the class consciousness that the elections seek to foster, the prospect of an armed, insurgent movement being absorbed by an anti-fascist leftist movement during an election cycle is deemed “inappropriate.” This is particularly true at a time when the plane used to abduct Maduro in Venezuela sits on the tarmac at the Campo Grande Air Base in Mato Grosso do Sul, Brazil, and Trump has US soldiers learning Portuguese without explanation. As Gramsci observed, “the conquest of cultural power precedes the conquest of political power,” for fascism sustains itself by shaping worldviews through art and religion.

Religion has served as another mechanism of manipulation; the Bolsonaros declare themselves Zionist-leaning Evangelical Christians while openly advocating for the use of weapons and violence against “others” who do not share their beliefs. Although Evangelicals now outnumber Catholics, Christians as a whole constitute the majority of Flávio’s electorate. The circulation of a purported bill—allegedly drafted by Flávio Bolsonaro for when he becomes president—to remove Our Lady of Aparecida (venerated by both Catholics and followers of Afro-Brazilian religions) from the official calendar as Brazil’s patron saint backfired on the Bolsonaro family. This irony stems from the fact that the family had long spread fake news claiming the Workers’ Party (PT) and Lula were communists who would shut down churches. The backlash even saw André Mendonça ask Meta to take down a post by André Tabet—a well-known Brazilian comedian—which stated that the “militia family hates black women so much that they decided to attack Our Lady of Aparecida.”

The ensuing controversy brought to light various instances of violence committed by evangelical groups against Catholics and practitioners of Afro-Brazilian religions that venerate saints. This climate has spawned a bizarre historical figure: the “narco-evangelical.” A prime example is found in Rio de Janeiro’s “Complexo de Israel,” controlled by the “narco-pastor” Peixão; he rules the area, bans any Catholic or Afro-Brazilian religious expression, and evangelizes at gunpoint. Recently in Fortaleza, shops selling Catholic religious statues and Umbanda supplies were smashed and vandalized. Death threats were left on their doors—messages clearly evangelical in nature, quoting scripture such as “do not make an idol” and “I, the Lord, am speaking.”

There were direct and indirect reactions from various priests and bishops—such as a group of priests playing and singing “Bella Ciao”—and even from the CNBB (National Conference of Brazilian Bishops). Flávio had accused the CNBB of spreading “fake news,” prompting the organization to issue an official statement clarifying that it does not campaign for or support any political party. By all indications, with the election just a week away, it will be a poor Black woman—Our Lady of Aparecida, representing everything the far-right hates—who heralds Lula’s victory. May she—who, like the figure in *Auto da Compadecida* (a classic of Brazilian literature), appeared at the very last minute—”illuminate” the consciences of the algorithms at the polls and the paths to victory on October 4th, with Lula re-elected in the first round and democracy preserved, thereby gaining the breathing room to imagine and create possible futures that transcend the electoral contest and the criteria pre-defined by the world’s economic and technological centers for and with the subaltern groups.