The lion became a rat, and everyone saw it happen.
In the days following Brazil's Independence Day, President Jair Bolsonaro stepped back from the edge of a constitutional precipice, walking back inflammatory remarks against Congress and the Supreme Court with a statement invoking harmony and institutional respect. The retreat, framed as words spoken in the heat of the moment, revealed the limits of executive defiance when confronted with the weight of republican institutions. In São Paulo, Governor João Doria — once an ally, now an adversary — seized the moment to mock the reversal and, for the first time, openly call for impeachment proceedings. The episode is a reminder that political power, however loudly proclaimed, is always tested against the structures it seeks to challenge.
- Bolsonaro's September 7th Independence Day speech crossed a line even some allies found alarming, openly targeting the judiciary and legislature in ways that rattled the foundations of Brazil's institutional order.
- Within two days, an official statement arrived — measured and conciliatory — in which the president claimed his words had been spoken in the heat of the moment and reaffirmed his respect for the constitutional separation of powers.
- Governor Doria pounced immediately, posting 'The lion became a rat' on Twitter and escalating his opposition beyond mockery by publicly endorsing impeachment proceedings for the first time.
- The retreat left the underlying conflicts unresolved — Bolsonaro's disputes with Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes over disinformation investigations remain live, and his base remains mobilized by his combative posture.
- The central question now is whether this pullback is a genuine recalibration or a tactical pause before the next confrontation in an ongoing war of institutional attrition.
João Doria did not waste the moment. When President Bolsonaro issued a conciliatory statement walking back his most aggressive institutional rhetoric to date, the São Paulo governor — once a Bolsonaro ally, transformed by the pandemic into one of his sharpest critics — posted three words on Twitter: 'The lion became a rat.'
The retreat came two days after Bolsonaro's September 7th Independence Day remarks, in which he had delivered inflammatory attacks against Congress and the Supreme Court sharp enough to unsettle even some within his own camp. The official response that followed was almost unrecognizable in tone: measured, careful, and apologetic in all but name. The president explained that his words had been spoken in the heat of the moment, that he had never intended to attack any branch of government, and that the Constitution demanded harmony between them — a demand he now pledged to honor.
The statement acknowledged that much of the tension centered on disputes with Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes, particularly around investigations into the spread of disinformation. But rather than press the confrontation, Bolsonaro said such matters belonged in judicial channels, not in the public square. It was, in effect, a surrender of the aggressive posture he had been building toward for months.
Doria's response marked a shift in kind, not just tone. The governor had traded barbs with Bolsonaro throughout the pandemic — once joking about an 'anti-rabies vaccine' in response to the president's attacks on his vaccination program — but this time he went further, publicly calling for impeachment proceedings to be opened. The institutional crisis Bolsonaro had provoked was no longer merely rhetorical.
What the retreat revealed was the boundary of executive defiance. Whether it was pressure from advisors, fear of economic fallout, or simply the resistance of institutions that refused to yield, Bolsonaro stepped back. His grievances with the judiciary remained unresolved, his base still primed for conflict. But for now, the president had blinked — and his former ally had made certain the country noticed.
João Doria woke up Thursday morning to find the president of Brazil had blinked. The São Paulo governor, who had ridden into office on Bolsonaro's coattails before the pandemic turned him into one of the administration's fiercest critics, saw an opportunity and took it. "The lion became a rat," he posted on Twitter. "Great day."
The taunt landed because Bolsonaro had just retreated from the most aggressive institutional assault of his presidency. Two days earlier, on September 7th, the president had delivered inflammatory remarks against Congress and the Supreme Court, testing the boundaries of what a sitting executive could say about the branches meant to check his power. The rhetoric had been sharp enough to alarm even some allies. But by Thursday afternoon, an official statement arrived—measured, conciliatory, almost apologetic. The president's words, he explained, had been spoken "in the heat of the moment." He now insisted he had never intended to attack any branch of government. The Constitution demanded harmony between them, and he would respect that demand.
The statement was careful. Bolsonaro acknowledged that much of the tension stemmed from disagreements over decisions made by Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes, particularly regarding an investigation into the spread of false information. But rather than escalate, the president said such matters should be resolved through judicial channels, not public confrontation. He reiterated his respect for the institutions of the republic and his commitment to dialogue with Congress and the courts. It was, in essence, a surrender of the aggressive posture that had defined his relationship with these bodies for months.
Doria's mockery was not his first jab at the president. During the height of the pandemic, when Bolsonaro had attacked the governor's vaccination efforts, Doria had responded with barbs of his own, even joking about an "anti-rabies vaccine" in response to what he characterized as the president's rabid attacks. But this time, the tone shifted. The governor was no longer simply trading insults. For the first time, Doria publicly called for impeachment proceedings to be opened against Bolsonaro, signaling that the institutional crisis the president had provoked might now move beyond rhetoric into formal constitutional challenge.
The retreat itself was telling. Bolsonaro had spent months building toward this confrontation, testing how far he could push against judicial independence and legislative authority. He had allies in Congress, a base that remained loyal, and a media ecosystem willing to amplify his grievances. Yet when the moment came to sustain the assault, something gave way. Whether it was pressure from advisors, concern about economic consequences, or simply the weight of institutional resistance, the president chose to step back. He would continue to dispute Moraes's decisions, he made clear, but through proper legal channels. The lion, as Doria put it, had become a rat.
What remained unclear was whether this retreat was permanent or tactical. Bolsonaro's statement left room for future conflict—his disputes with the judiciary were unresolved, his grievances real in his own mind, his base still energized by his combative stance. But for now, the immediate crisis had passed. The president had blinked first, and his former ally had made sure the country knew it.
Notable Quotes
My words, at times forceful, came from the heat of the moment and from conflicts that always aimed at the common good.— President Jair Bolsonaro, official statement
The lion became a rat. Great day.— Governor João Doria, Twitter
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Doria's taunt land so hard? Bolsonaro could have ignored it.
Because Doria was right about what had just happened. The president had spent months building toward a confrontation with the courts and Congress, and then he folded. That's not something you can unsay.
But Bolsonaro's statement claims he never intended to attack the branches of government. Isn't that a reasonable walk-back?
It's a walk-back dressed as clarification. He said his words came from the heat of the moment—which is an admission that he said things he shouldn't have. You don't need to clarify something you meant.
What made Doria such a credible critic? He was elected on Bolsonaro's wave.
That's exactly what made him credible. He wasn't some longtime opponent. He was inside the tent, and he saw something that made him leave. When someone like that turns, it means something shifted.
Is impeachment actually possible now, or is Doria just talking?
Impeachment requires political will in Congress, and that's always been the real constraint. But Doria calling for it publicly—that changes the conversation. It moves from whispers to formal demand.
What happens if Bolsonaro escalates again?
Then we'll know the retreat was tactical, not genuine. But for now, he's chosen the path of institutional respect. Whether he stays on it depends on what his base demands and what the courts do next.