Brazilian Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes

In the history of international law, certain efforts stand apart for their audacity. The campaign launched by Martin De Luca against Brazilian Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes is precisely such an effort. De Luca, a partner at Boies Schiller Flexner and former US federal prosecutor, has stepped into an arena most legal professionals fear to approach. The constitutional argument he has constructed is wholly unprecedented, a legal theory so novel that seasoned attorneys advised him it would never succeed. But De Luca is not the sort of lawyer who shies away from the impossible. He thrives on it. His objective is nothing less than to expose and dismantle the censorship regime exported by Brazil's most powerful judge. Many said it couldn't be done. They may soon be proven wrong.

De Luca is no ordinary litigator. He is an architect of strategy in one of the most complex terrains imaginable: the intersection of diplomacy, constitutional law, and authoritarian overreach. His track record proves it. He has developed what one colleague called a "innovative toolbox of cross-border pressure points" to free Americans wrongly detained abroad. That includes securing Marc Fogle's release from Russia's opaque prison system, and securing similar releases from Venezuela and Mexico through methods that avoid the diplomatic humiliation of prisoner swaps.

The case of Marc Fogel, a teacher imprisoned in Russia under harsh drug laws for possessing medically prescribed cannabis, stands as a testament to De Luca’s unique approach. Working with the Trump administration, he orchestrated a quiet but decisive retrieval. No sanctions lifted. Just legal acumen, moral clarity, and a carefully constructed strategy of leverage and pressure. Similarly, De Luca is now leading the effort to bring home Stephen Hubbard, an American held in Russia on specious charges. Hubbard, a retired schoolteacher caught in the sweep of wartime paranoia, is now within sight of release.

Yet these achievements pale in comparison to the audacity of De Luca’s third act: suing a sitting foreign Supreme Court justice in a US court. The target, Alexandre de Moraes, is not just any judge. He is, by most serious accounts, the most powerful man in Brazil. Appointed to the Supreme Federal Tribunal (STF) in 2017 after the death of Justice Teori Zavascki in a suspicious plane crash, de Moraes's confirmation was rammed through the Senate in just over a month. His resume prior to the robe did not include judicial experience. Besides serving as Justice Minister and public security secretary, de Moraes' spent his legal career representing Primeiro Comando da Capital (PCC), a hyper-violent criminal syndicate known for narco-trafficking, assassinations, and operating vast extortion networks from inside Brazil’s prisons. The PCC has grown into one of Latin America's most powerful transnational gangs, with a reach extending into Paraguay, Bolivia, and even Europe. It runs drugs, launders money, and eliminates rivals with military precision. Moraes's past associations with entities tied to such a criminal network cast a dark shadow over his judicial ascent. He was, in short, a political functionary promoted to judicial overseer, a cartel enforcer disguised as a jurist.

Since joining the STF, de Moraes has assumed unprecedented powers, an oddity considering he is not the Chief Justice but merely an associate justice. The current Chief Justice, Luis Roberto Barroso, holds the formal title, yet it is de Moraes who wields the true power. In 2019, de Moraes unilaterally declared that the STF would have 'original jurisdiction' over matters of so-called "fake news," a designation that is unprecedented in Brazilian legal history. Never before had a single justice, much less one without the mandate of Chief Justice, arrogated to himself such sweeping authority. And if there were a legitimate case to be made that the Supreme Court should exercise original jurisdiction in such cases, why place that power solely in the hands of one associate justice? Why not assign it to the full panel of justices? In practice, his maneuver bypassed every lower court, consolidating the roles of investigator, prosecutor, trial judge, and appellate judge into his own hands. This procedural anomaly is not an incidental feature of his work. It is the mechanism of his power, and it makes his influence dwarf that of his judicial peers, including the Chief Justice himself.

The initial scope of this inquiry was modest. That changed rapidly. Today, the investigation encompasses some 5,000 individuals. Roughly 500 have been convicted, receiving prison sentences ranging from 1 to 17 years, for acts including attempting a coup d’état, undermining the democratic rule of law, and participating in a criminal organization. Among the convicted are high-profile Bolsonaro allies such as Daniel Silveira, a former congressman sentenced to 8 years in prison for spreading so-called fake news and attacking democratic institutions, and Roberto Jefferson, another Bolsonaro-aligned politician convicted on similar charges involving disinformation and incitement. Most of the remaining cases remain sealed or under secret investigation. Censorship orders now extend beyond Brazil’s borders. They contain gag clauses that prohibit targets from even revealing they are under investigation. De Moraes commands a 50-officer Federal Police detail. He travels via military jet. He suspends elected officials without due process, as he did with the governor of Brasília following the January 8, 2023 protests. Colleagues whisper he keeps "files on everyone," and off the record, members of the government admit they are "alarmed."

And why wouldn’t they be? De Moraes has achieved what most autocrats only dream of: he has made criticism of himself legally equivalent to an attack on democracy. As De Luca put it, “Anything that attacks him is an attack on democracy.” The logic is almost Fauci-esque. As the former NIAID director infamously declared, attacks on him were attacks on science itself. So too does de Moraes claim identity with democracy. It is a chilling form of absolutism: to question him is to invite prosecution.

This brings us to De Luca’s lawsuit. Filed in federal court in Florida, the plaintiffs, Rumble and Trump Media & Technology Group (TMTG), argue that de Moraes’s extraterritorial censorship orders violate the First Amendment and are unenforceable on US soil. The orders, initially aimed at silencing Brazilian dissident Allan dos Santos, demanded the takedown of content hosted on US-based servers, operated by US companies, written by a Florida resident. De Moraes issued these orders not through diplomatic channels, but by sending them directly to Florida via email. His directives came with the threat of daily fines nearing $10,000 and platform shutdowns.

The very idea that a foreign associate justice can unilaterally issue binding censorship orders against American companies and citizens, simply because their content is viewable abroad, is both outrageous and unprecedented. No legal doctrine in the history of international jurisprudence supports such a claim. If tolerated, this tactic could shatter the constitutional barrier that protects American speech from foreign interference. It is a perilous precedent. Today it is Brazil. Tomorrow, it could be China, Iran, or Russia. And not far behind, the European Union and the United Kingdom, already experimenting with centralized speech regulation, could seize upon this as a legal fig leaf for digital overreach. The slippery slope is not hypothetical. It is here, and if it is not stopped in this courtroom, it will metastasize.

The lawsuit rests on seven legal theories, including violations of the First Amendment, the Communications Decency Act §230, and the Stored Communications Act, as well as principles of comity, tortious interference, and public policy under Florida law. In De Luca’s words: “Brazil is trying to rewrite the rule. If your content is viewable there, they say you’re under Brazilian jurisdiction. That is the hill we’re prepared to fight on.”

As of June, a federal judge in Florida ordered service of the complaint on de Moraes at his Brasília chambers. The STF refused to accept it. Court clerks insisted he must be served at home but declined to provide his address. On multiple occasions de Moraes team claimed that he would respond to the lawsuit and fight the allegations. Yet, at every opportunity provided, his lawyers have failed to appear or file a response. De Moraes has now gone silent. Plaintiffs are preparing a motion for default judgment. Should it succeed, it will set an extraordinary precedent: that even foreign judges cannot operate with impunity when their actions cross into US constitutional territory.

De Moraes’s doctrine does not stop at platforms. It now targets people. In February 2025, Congressman Eduardo Bolsonaro, son of former President Jair Bolsonaro, began a public campaign in the US warning of de Moraes’s repression. His appearance on Capitol Hill and with Tucker Carlson prompted an astonishing response. Moraes threatened to revoke Bolsonaro’s passport under the STF’s self-declared doctrine of “anti-democratic acts.” When Bolsonaro remained in the US, prosecutors under Moraes’s authority filed criminal charges accusing him of violent attempts to overthrow Brazil’s government. The case, of course, was assigned to Moraes himself. He refused to recuse.

This is more than a conflict of interest. It is a judicial autocracy. As De Luca observed, “He’s the investigator, he is the prosecutor, he is the judge and he’s the appellate judge.” One man, all roles. This is not the rule of law. It is the law of rule.

There is growing discomfort within Brazil’s political establishment. Publicly, President Lula’s government defends de Moraes. Privately, insiders resent the leash he places on their agenda. Business leaders suspect he harbors presidential ambitions. Media outlets, both Brazilian and international, have taken to calling him “the most powerful man in Brazil.” The massive wealth surrounding de Moraes has only deepened public cynicism. But behind the cynicism lies fear. Elected officials, appointed bureaucrats, civil servants, corporate executives, and journalists all tiptoe around his name. No one dares to confront him openly. Everyone is afraid. The silence is so absolute, so uniform, it evokes the old parable of the emperor with no clothes, except in this case, the emperor also commands a federal police force, a courtroom, and an unchallenged gavel.

Already, the US Department of Justice has notified Brazilian authorities that Moraes’s orders hold no force here. Secretary of State Marco Rubio has publicly floated sanctions. Should the court rule against Moraes, he could face Global Magnitsky Act designations, barring travel and access to international banking systems. That possibility has reportedly alarmed elements of the Brazilian government. Brazilian diplomats working with the State Department have been visibly uncomfortable defending Moraes’s lawless actions. Asked to justify his censorship edicts, they appear strained, even embarrassed, tasked with defending the indefensible. It is the hardest possible job, and it shows. The pretense that Brazil is a functioning democracy grows thinner by the day. Until Moraes is removed from power, the country will remain a democracy in name only. That removal, once unthinkable, now appears increasingly plausible, thanks in large part to De Luca’s lawsuit.

Now De Luca’s lawsuit has caught the attention of President Trump himself. It’s not just because his Truth Social platform is named as a plaintiff. Trump understands the stakes: Alexandre de Moraes is using his judicial power to keep the only viable challenger to President Lula, former President Jair Bolsonaro, out of the political arena. De Moraes has gone so far as to formally bar Bolsonaro from running for public office until the year 2030, a move that, in any true democracy, would provoke public outrage and judicial review. Two hours ago, Trump posted this message on Truth Social, a shot across the bow aimed directly at de Moraes:

"Brazil is doing a terrible thing on their treatment of former President Jair Bolsonaro. I have watched, as has the World, as they have done nothing but come after him, day after day, night after night, month after month, year after year! He is not guilty of anything, except having fought for THE PEOPLE. I have gotten to know Jair Bolsonaro, and he was a strong Leader, who truly loved his Country — Also, a very tough negotiator on TRADE. His Election was very close and now, he is leading in the Polls. This is nothing more, or less, than an attack on a Political Opponent — Something I know much about! It happened to me, times 10, and now our Country is the “HOTTEST” in the World! The Great People of Brazil will not stand for what they are doing to their former President. I’ll be watching the WITCH HUNT of Jair Bolsonaro, his family, and thousands of his supporters, very closely. The only Trial that should be happening is a Trial by the Voters of Brazil — It’s called an Election. LEAVE BOLSONARO ALONE!"

Trump’s declaration marks a significant escalation. It puts de Moraes in the crosshairs not only of the law but of global political pressure. If Bolsonaro is to be tried, Trump insists, it should be by the people of Brazil at the ballot box, not in a courtroom controlled by one unelected man.

De Luca’s lawsuit is not just a legal maneuver. It is a geopolitical act. It is a bid to remind the world that American law, grounded in the Constitution, still draws red lines. It refuses to bow before the procedural theater of foreign strongmen in robes.

In that sense, De Luca has done more than file a case. He has drawn a map. It shows how a single determined advocate, armed with clarity of mind and precision of law, can challenge tyranny. Whether in a Russian penal colony or a Brazilian courtroom cloaked in secrecy, the principle remains the same. Freedom does not survive by accident. It must be defended, case by case, against those who confuse power with justice.

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