Trump’s meddling in Brazil to shield Bolsonaro has backfired—igniting nationalist fury, boosting Lula’s popularity, and turning America into the villain Brazilians love to hate.
On July 9th, Donald Trump threw gasoline on a foreign
fire by slapping a 50% tariff on Brazilian exports. His reason? A “witch hunt”
against Jair Bolsonaro, Brazil’s far-right former president, who’s about to
face trial for allegedly plotting a coup—a charge he denies. The fireworks
didn’t stop there. On July 15th, Trump’s trade rep Jamieson Greer opened an
investigation into Brazil’s trade practices. By July 18th, the U.S. revoked
visas for most Brazilian Supreme Court judges and officials involved in Bolsonaro’s
prosecution. Secretary of State Marco Rubio added fuel by pushing to sanction
top justice Alexandre de Moraes under a law typically reserved for warlords and
tyrants.
This wasn’t diplomacy—it was a direct hit. And it
backfired spectacularly.
The real trigger, it seems, wasn’t justice or trade—it
was jealousy. On July 6th and 7th, Brazil hosted the BRICS summit, spotlighting
its growing global influence. Lula, Brazil’s president and Trump’s ideological
opposite, hosted the event. Trump responded like a man scorned. Lula called it
“unacceptable blackmail” and warned he’d start taxing American tech giants.
Even Brazil’s right-wing Congress, no friend of Lula, stood behind him and
began plotting revenge tariffs of their own.
But Lula’s sharpest jabs were aimed at the Bolsonaros.
Eduardo Bolsonaro, Jair’s son and a congressman, had moved to Texas in March.
There, he’s been sweet-talking Republican lawmakers to slap sanctions on de
Moraes. On July 17th, Lula thundered to a rally crowd, calling the Bolsonaros
“traitors” and declaring let them be ashamed, hide in their cowardice, and
let this country live in peace. Eduardo didn’t deny it—he doubled down,
bragging about his White House access. After the visa slap on de Moraes, he
even posted on X that if he couldn’t see his dad, now Brazilian officials
couldn’t see their families in the U.S. either. That’s not diplomacy—it’s
playground politics.
The Brazilian Supreme Court didn’t blink. On July 18th,
de Moraes ordered Bolsonaro to wear an ankle monitor, locked him down at home
during nights and weekends, and banned him from foreign contact and media
interviews. The very next day, July 19th, de Moraes froze Eduardo’s assets to
investigate whether his D.C. backroom deals were designed to derail his dad’s
trial.
If the Bolsonaros thought Trump’s tantrum would light a
fire under Brazil’s right-wing base, they miscalculated. Badly. Instead of
rising, Bolsonaro’s star is falling. Instead of dividing the nation, Trump has
accidentally unified it—around Lula. Effigies of Trump are being torched in the
streets. Lula’s approval ratings, once on life support, are now alive and
kicking. He’s leading in early polls for next year’s election. When the wind
blows too hard, even a dying flame can blaze back to life.
Trump may have handed Lula a political jackpot. According
to Andre Pagliarini of the Washington Brazil Office, the tariffs gave Lula an
“incredible get-out-of-jail-free card.” Whatever economic fallout hits Brazil,
Lula can just point to Trump and say, “Blame him.” True or not, the optics are
golden.
And the pain isn’t evenly spread. Only 13% of Brazil’s
exports go to the U.S.—about $43 billion a year. Meanwhile, 28% go to China, a
market likely to grow if Trump’s tariffs take hold. Goldman Sachs says Brazil’s
growth could drop 0.4 percentage points this year, landing at 2%. But the hit
will land hardest on Bolsonaro’s home turf. U.S. imports more than one-third of
its unroasted coffee beans from Brazil. Same for orange juice. Beef imports are
rising fast. Economists say Trump’s tariffs could cost 110,000 Brazilian
jobs—mostly in agriculture-heavy regions loyal to Bolsonaro. Even Brazil’s
farmers’ confederation, long in Bolsonaro’s corner, blasted the tariffs as
“political.” Bolsonaro now insists the tariffs have “nothing to do with us.”
That’s rich, coming from a man whose son is fueling the fire from Texas.
And there’s another sore spot—Pix, Brazil’s wildly
popular instant payment system launched in 2020. It wasn’t named directly, but
when Greer put “electronic payment services” on his hit list of unfair
Brazilian trade practices, Brazilians took notice. Pix made banking cheaper and
more competitive. It also rattled American firms like Visa and Mastercard. Ralf
Germer of PagBrasil called the claim that Pix is unfair absurd. To many
Brazilians, the attack on Pix felt like a slap not just at their economy, but
at their independence.
Yes, Brazil has one of the world’s most closed economies.
About 86% of its imports face non-tariff barriers—more than the U.S. or global
averages. Domestic industries are padded by federal and local perks. But if
unfair trade is Trump’s true gripe, he’s been silent about it. Brazil’s leaders
have been knocking on the White House door since May, begging to talk trade.
Trump hasn’t answered. It seems only Eduardo Bolsonaro has his ear.
Eduardo, speaking from his Texas office decked with MAGA
hats and crucifixes, confessed his admiration: “Trump is someone I admire,
someone I look up to, someone I want to get to know better so that, who knows,
maybe in the future, if I have power, I can follow in his footsteps in Brazil.”
Lula, meanwhile, is strutting with new swagger. He now
wears a blue cap that reads, “Brazil belongs to Brazilians.” But behind closed
doors, his team knows this surge may not last. If the economy tanks and Trump’s
tariffs stick, it’ll get harder to keep pointing fingers at the Bolsonaros.
Still, one thing is clear: Trump’s meddling didn’t save
Bolsonaro—it burned him. And instead of weakening Lula, it set him on fire. When
you dig a trap for your enemy, don’t fall in first. Now the question is:
who’ll blink first—the impetuous Trump or the battle-hardened Lula?
Because in Brazil right now, the gringo is the goat.
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