We do not accept being treated as if we were some tinpot country
In the months before a consequential Brazilian election, Washington's decision to label two of the country's most powerful criminal organizations as foreign terrorist groups has become something far larger than a law enforcement designation — it has become a test of sovereignty, of alliance, and of who gets to define a nation's security on its own soil. President Lula, who had long resisted this move, now finds himself navigating a collision between international pressure and domestic legitimacy, while his far-right challenger claims the designation as a personal victory won in Washington's corridors. The episode reminds us that the line between foreign policy and electoral interference is rarely as clear as either side insists.
- US Secretary of State Marco Rubio designated Brazil's PCC and Red Command as foreign terrorist organizations just hours after meeting with Lula's far-right rival, Flávio Bolsonaro — a sequence that felt less like coincidence than choreography.
- Lula erupted publicly, accusing the Bolsonaro family of inviting foreign intervention in Brazil's democracy and calling the timing a deliberate affront to national sovereignty.
- Flávio Bolsonaro, whose campaign had been wounded by a corruption-adjacent scandal, seized on the designation as proof that he could deliver for Brazil where Lula could not — offering his struggling candidacy a sudden political lifeline.
- Analysts warn the designation could ensnare innocent Brazilian financial entities in sanctions, and a new report links similar US pressure campaigns to an 18 percent spike in violent clashes across Latin America in 2025.
- With October's election drawing closer, the confrontation is hardening into a referendum on whether Brazil's security policy will be shaped in Brasília or in Washington.
On Thursday, US Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced that Brazil's two largest criminal organizations — the PCC and the Red Command — would be designated as foreign terrorist groups. The announcement came immediately after Rubio met with Flávio Bolsonaro, the far-right senator running against President Lula in October's election. By Friday, Lula was furious.
"We do not accept being treated like little boys," the president said in a speech, insisting Brazil was no "tinpot country." His anger had a specific edge: he had spent months opposing this very designation, arguing it violated Brazilian sovereignty — and just hours before Rubio's announcement, Brazil's federal police had launched a new operation targeting PCC infiltration of the financial system. Washington, it seemed, had not been paying attention.
Both gangs carry long histories. The Red Command was born in the 1970s when political prisoners under military dictatorship were housed with common criminals in Rio. The PCC emerged in the 1990s from a São Paulo prison following a massacre in which police killed 111 inmates. Both grew into major cocaine trafficking networks — the Red Command operating with cartel-like violence, the PCC with corporate hierarchy and discretion.
The political optics were combustible. Flávio Bolsonaro — running in place of his father Jair, who is under house arrest after a coup conviction — had spent the week in Washington meeting Trump and Rubio in sessions kept off public schedules. He celebrated the designation immediately, claiming he had done more for Brazilian security in one trip than Lula had managed in office. Lula shot back, calling the Bolsonaro family "traitors" and "false patriots" for soliciting foreign interference — a charge with deep resonance in a country shaped by coups and external pressure.
Flávio's campaign had been struggling after recordings emerged of him asking a corruption-accused banker for nearly $27 million to fund a film about his father. The designation offered him a sudden lifeline. Meanwhile, analysts cautioned that the practical fallout could be severe — innocent Brazilian entities risk being caught in sanctions, and a new report found that US pressure on drug trafficking drove an 18 percent rise in violent clashes across Latin America in 2025. Lula's position remains firm: international cooperation is welcome, but not when it arrives dressed as political interference. Whether that line holds as the election intensifies is the question now hanging over both countries.
On Thursday, the United States Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced that Brazil's two largest criminal organizations—the First Capital Command, known as the PCC, and the Red Command—would be designated as foreign terrorist groups. The timing was immediate and pointed: Rubio had just finished meetings with Flávio Bolsonaro, the far-right senator running to challenge President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva in October's election. By Friday, Lula was furious.
"We do not accept being treated like little boys," the president said during a speech in Sergipe state. "We do not accept being treated as if we were some tinpot country." The anger was not merely rhetorical. Lula had spent months opposing exactly this designation, arguing it was an affront to Brazilian sovereignty and unnecessary given that his government was already actively combating these organizations. Hours before Rubio's announcement, Brazil's federal police had launched a new operation targeting PCC infiltration into the country's financial system. The timing suggested Washington was not listening.
The two gangs in question have deep roots in Brazilian prison history. The Red Command emerged in the 1970s when political prisoners held by the military dictatorship were housed alongside common criminals in a Rio de Janeiro facility. The PCC came later, founded in the 1990s in a São Paulo prison in the aftermath of a massacre in which police killed 111 inmates during a rebellion. Both organizations grew into major trafficking networks, moving cocaine from Colombia, Peru, and Bolivia to markets in the United States and Europe. They operate differently—the Red Command runs a more decentralized, overtly violent operation similar to Mexican cartels, while the PCC functions like a corporation, with hierarchies and a businesslike discretion.
What made the moment politically explosive was the optics. Flávio Bolsonaro, chosen to run in place of his father Jair—who is under house arrest after conviction for attempting a coup—had spent the week in Washington meeting with Donald Trump and Rubio. His visit was not listed on the White House public schedule, and Trump did not mention it on social media, unlike his three-week-earlier meeting with Lula, which the president had publicly praised. Flávio immediately celebrated the designation. "On a trip as a presidential candidate, we did more for Brazil and for the security of Brazilians than Lula," he said. The implication was clear: the far-right challenger had delivered what the leftist president could not.
Lula saw the hand of the Bolsonaro family in the decision. In a statement, he called them "traitors" and "false patriots," accusing them of traveling to the United States to advocate foreign intervention in Brazil—a charge with historical weight in a country that has experienced multiple military coups and foreign pressure. "It is deplorable that members of the Bolsonaro family once again travel to the United States to advocate foreign intervention in Brazil, as they did over the tariffs, which caused so much damage to our country," he wrote. He noted pointedly that Rubio had not been present during his own three-hour meeting with Trump. "Mr Marco Rubio was not there, possibly because he was busy helping the son of a Bolsonarista who is running for election in this country."
Flávio's campaign had been struggling. Weeks earlier, recordings surfaced showing him asking a banker accused of corruption for $26.8 million to fund a film about his father. The revelation had damaged his poll numbers significantly. The terrorist designation offered him a political lifeline—a way to position himself as tougher on crime than the incumbent, and to suggest that Washington itself preferred his approach.
The practical consequences of the designation remain unclear, but analysts worry about financial repercussions for innocent Brazilian entities caught in the net of sanctions and restrictions. The move fits a broader pattern: similar designations have been applied to organizations in Colombia, Mexico, and Venezuela. A report released this week found that US pressure on drug trafficking drove an 18 percent increase in clashes between security forces and armed groups across Latin America and the Caribbean in 2025. Lula's position is that international cooperation against criminal factions is welcome, but not when it comes wrapped in what he sees as political interference. "National sovereignty is non-negotiable," he said. The question now is whether that principle will hold as the election approaches and the pressure from Washington—and from his challenger—intensifies.
Notable Quotes
We do not accept being treated like little boys. We do not accept being treated as if we were some tinpot country.— President Lula, in response to the US designation
On a trip as a presidential candidate, we did more for Brazil and for the security of Brazilians than Lula.— Flávio Bolsonaro, celebrating the designation
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why did Lula react so strongly to what seems like a straightforward law enforcement decision?
Because it wasn't law enforcement in a vacuum. Rubio met with Bolsonaro days before the announcement, and Bolsonaro immediately claimed credit for it. From Lula's perspective, this wasn't Washington responding to a criminal threat—it was Washington helping his political opponent.
But the gangs are real, and they are violent. Isn't the designation justified on its merits?
Probably, yes. Both organizations are major trafficking networks. But Lula's argument is that Brazil was already fighting them. He'd opposed the designation not because the gangs aren't dangerous, but because he saw it as Washington imposing a label that could be used against Brazilian sovereignty and Brazilian interests.
What does sovereignty have to do with how the US classifies foreign criminal organizations?
Everything, in Brazil's recent history. The country experienced military coups and foreign intervention. When a US official meets with your political opponent and then announces a policy that helps that opponent, it feels like a replay of that history—like Washington is choosing sides in your election.
Is Bolsonaro actually asking for US military intervention?
He's hinting at it. He said he felt "jealous" of countries where the US conducts military operations against drug trafficking, and he asked the US defense secretary if they'd consider doing something similar in Rio. It's not a formal request, but it's a signal.
What happens now with the designation in place?
That's the uncertainty. The gangs will face more pressure internationally, which could disrupt their operations. But it could also trigger financial restrictions that harm innocent Brazilians. And politically, it's a gift to Bolsonaro heading into October. Lula has to navigate between accepting international cooperation and protecting what he sees as his country's independence.