On December 14, 2025, the streets of Brazil’s largest cities pulsed with chants and music, as tens of thousands of Brazilians gathered to protest a controversial bill that could dramatically reduce former President Jair Bolsonaro’s prison sentence. From the iconic Copacabana boardwalk in Rio de Janeiro to the heart of Brasilia and bustling avenues of Sao Paulo, demonstrators made it clear: they would not accept leniency for a man many see as responsible for one of the country’s gravest assaults on democracy in recent history.
The protests, which unfolded under a sweltering sun, were not only about Bolsonaro. They served as a rebuke to lawmakers who, just days earlier, had advanced a bill in the lower house of Congress that would slash the sentences of all those convicted for their roles in the January 8, 2023 riot. That day, supporters of Bolsonaro stormed government buildings in Brasilia, seeking to overturn the results of the 2022 presidential election, which saw leftist Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva narrowly defeat the far-right incumbent.
According to Reuters, the demonstrations were organized by a coalition of social groups, artists, and political parties. The turnout was impressive: researchers from the University of Sao Paulo estimated that about 15,000 people filled the streets of Sao Paulo, while an estimated 20,000 rallied on Copacabana Beach in Rio. Although the numbers were slightly lower than similar protests in September, the mood was no less urgent or determined.
Protesters’ signs and chants left little doubt about their stance. In Rio, crowds shouted “No amnesty” and “Out with Hugo Motta,” targeting the speaker of the lower house who had shepherded the bill through a late-night vote. Many held placards declaring, “Congress is the enemy of the people.” The sense of indignation was palpable, but so was a festive spirit, thanks in part to the presence of celebrated musicians like Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil. Their performances, as reported by the Associated Press, lent the event both gravitas and hope—reminding many of their roles in resisting Brazil’s military dictatorship decades ago.
Lavinia Scalia, an 18-year-old student organizer, captured the dual nature of the day: “It’s very important that they’re here, encouraging people to hit the streets. But I think we mustn’t come only to sing, we have to come to actually fight.”
The bill at the center of the storm, sponsored by Paulinho da Força, proposes significant changes to the sentences handed down to those convicted of participating in the 2023 insurrection. If adopted, it would allow sentences for two of Bolsonaro’s convictions—attempting a coup and violent overthrow of the rule of law—to run concurrently, not consecutively. This technical change would reduce the former president’s prison time from more than 27 years to just two years and four months. The legislation would also ease parole conditions, making prisoners eligible for day parole after serving one-sixth of their sentence, down from the current one-fourth.
Bolsonaro, who began serving his sentence last month in a specially prepared cell at a federal police building in Brasilia, would still face a 30-year ban from holding public office, according to Reuters. His supporters had initially pushed for a full amnesty—essentially erasing the convictions—but the current bill focuses on sentence reduction rather than annulment. As the Associated Press noted, this more modest proposal is still seen by many as a dangerous concession to those who tried to subvert democracy.
“It’s an attempt to protect those who tried to attempt a coup,” said Antonio Edson Lima de Oliveira, a 56-year-old geologist at the Rio protest, in comments reported by AP. “Brazil has already had several dictatorships and they were awful for the country. We never want it to happen again.”
The sense of urgency was echoed by Claudio Pfeil, a teacher on Copacabana Beach: “All of them are paying for their crimes. We won’t accept even a centimeter of retreat.”
The bill’s journey is far from over. Having passed the lower house, it now moves to the Senate, where its prospects are uncertain. Luciana Santana, a politics professor at the Federal University of Alagoas, told AP that the Senate’s composition, the scale of public mobilization, and the timing of the lower house vote (which took place in the early hours) all mean the environment is less favorable for the bill than it was in the lower chamber.
Even if the Senate approves the measure, President Lula—who has made no secret of his opposition—has vowed to veto it. Yet, as Reuters points out, Congress could override a presidential veto, potentially setting up a constitutional showdown that might ultimately land before the Supreme Court.
The Supreme Court’s conviction of Bolsonaro and his alleged co-conspirators earlier this year was historic. According to Reuters, it marked the first time Brazil punished military officers for attempting to overthrow democracy—a significant milestone in a country with a history marred by coups and authoritarian rule. Bolsonaro, now 70, was sentenced in September to 27 years in prison for his role in orchestrating the January 8 events, a punishment that many Brazilians see as a necessary step toward national healing and accountability.
International attention to Bolsonaro’s legal fate has also been intense. The Associated Press reports that relations between Brazil and the United States hit a low point in July, when then-U.S. President Donald Trump imposed a 50% tariff on Brazilian goods, citing Bolsonaro’s trial as a “witch hunt.” Tensions have since eased: the tariffs were lifted, and, just days before the protests, the U.S. removed Brazilian Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes—who led the trial against Bolsonaro—from its sanctions list.
For President Lula, the stakes are high both domestically and abroad. He defeated Bolsonaro in the fiercely contested 2022 election and is expected to seek reelection in 2026. Any perception of weakness or capitulation on the issue of accountability for the 2023 insurrection could energize his opponents, but a hardline stance carries its own risks in a deeply polarized country.
As the sun set over Copacabana and the crowds began to disperse, the future of the bill—and of Brazil’s efforts to reckon with its recent past—remained uncertain. But one thing was clear: for many Brazilians, the fight to defend democracy is far from over, and they are prepared to take to the streets as often as needed to make their voices heard.
