On Tuesday, October 28, 2025, Rio de Janeiro was rocked by the deadliest police operation in its history, leaving at least 121 people dead, including four police officers, in the sprawling favelas of Complexo da Penha and Complexo de Alemao. The raid, which targeted the notorious Red Command (Comando Vermelho) gang, unleashed a storm of controversy and outrage, culminating in mass protests that have reignited Brazil’s longstanding debate over policing, crime, and the rights of favela residents.
By Friday, hundreds—soon swelling to thousands—of protesters had taken to the streets of Vila Cruzeiro, one of the neighborhoods hardest hit by the operation. The crowd, a mix of locals, politicians, activists, and grieving mothers who had lost sons to previous police actions, chanted for the resignation of Rio state Governor Cláudio Castro. Many wore white, a color chosen to symbolize peace, and carried signs bearing messages like “stop killing us,” “enough massacres,” and “120 lives lost is not a success.” Some shirts were emblazoned with red handprints, and Brazil’s flag was stained with red paint to represent the blood spilled during the raid.
“We don’t want a Rio de Janeiro of blood. We have to stop this blood that is being spilled,” protester Raimunda Leone, from the nearby Chapadão community, told reporters, her voice echoing the anguish felt by so many. “No mother wants to see her son lying on the ground, riddled with bullets.” According to Amnesty International Brazil director Jurema Werneck, the sense of pain and despair is overwhelming: “Those who live in war zones will understand this pain, this despair and this revolt.”
The raid itself was a massive show of force. Some 2,500 police and soldiers, backed by helicopters and armored vehicles, stormed the favelas in a bid to capture gang leaders and curtail the Red Command’s territorial expansion. The Red Command, which began in the late 1970s as a prison gang formed to protect inmates from state violence, has since grown into one of Brazil’s most powerful criminal organizations, competing with rivals like Sao Paulo’s First Capital Command (PCC) for control over the drug trade both domestically and internationally.
The official narrative from the state government was swift and unapologetic. Governor Castro, an ally of former President Jair Bolsonaro and a vocal opponent of current President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, declared the operation a “success” against “narco-terrorists.” He insisted that those killed were criminals who had resisted police efforts. The state claimed that, of the 99 suspects identified so far, 42 had outstanding arrest warrants and at least 78 had extensive criminal records.
But for many in the favelas and beyond, these justifications rang hollow. Residents discovered dozens of bodies in a wooded area near the site of the raid, with reports emerging of mutilated corpses—at least one decapitated, others with puncture wounds or found tied up. The initial official death toll of 64 quickly rose as more bodies were found, with Brazil’s public defender’s office reporting 132 deaths, outstripping the police’s own count. The sheer scale and brutality of the operation prompted condemnation from human rights groups and the United Nations. Human Rights Watch called for “a prompt, thorough, and independent investigation of each of the killings,” while Amnesty International described the crackdown as “disastrous, tragic and savage—an international disgrace.”
“Assassinating young people in favelas isn’t public policy. It’s a massacre,” said local councilwoman Monica Benicio at the protest, her words capturing the prevailing sentiment among demonstrators. Many accused law enforcement of torture and extrajudicial killings, with Anne Caroline Dos Santos, a protester from Rocinha, declaring, “Coward, terrorist, assassin! His hands are dirty with blood.” She, like others, called for Castro’s resignation or even imprisonment.
The political fallout was immediate. Brazil’s Supreme Court, prosecutors, and lawmakers demanded that Governor Castro provide detailed information about the operation. Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes scheduled a hearing with Castro and the heads of the military and civil police for November 3, as scrutiny mounted over the tactics and outcomes of the raid. President Lula, meanwhile, responded by submitting a bill to parliament that would impose a minimum 30-year prison sentence for gang members, signaling a tougher stance on organized crime even as his administration rejected the “narco-terrorism” label favored by Castro and conservative lawmakers.
The events have also reignited debate over the effectiveness and ethics of large-scale police raids in Brazil’s favelas. According to experts cited by Newsday, police operations in Rio’s metropolitan area this year have numbered over 1,800, yet only 1.3% were deemed effective based on arrests and casualties. In 2024 alone, police killed 6,243 people across Brazil, accounting for 14% of all homicides. Sociologist Daniel Hirata, who studies criminal activity in Rio, pointed out that while organized crime is often associated with urban poverty, it persists through connections to political and economic elites. Recent crackdowns in affluent business districts, he noted, resulted in arrests without a single shot fired, in stark contrast to the violence seen in the favelas.
Community leaders and residents have voiced frustration at being caught in the crossfire of political battles and security strategies that often seem to treat the favelas as war zones. “People in conflict with the law exist everywhere. In the favela, some are involved in drug trafficking or robberies. But there are also those in high society, in any profession. How often do you see police operations and arrests happening in other places?” asked William de Oliveira, a leader in Rocinha. Activist Rene Silva described the psychological toll on residents: “We’ve never witnessed anything like this in Brazil’s history. Crime continues, everything stays the same.”
As Brazil heads toward presidential and local elections next year, violence remains a top concern for most citizens. For some politicians, high-profile raids may be seen as a strategy to gain votes, but for residents of Rio’s favelas, the cost is measured in lives lost and communities traumatized. As the debate rages on, the demand from protesters is clear: accountability, justice, and a new approach to public security that does not treat the poor as expendable.
The aftermath of the raid has left Rio de Janeiro at a crossroads, with its people demanding answers and an end to policies that have turned neighborhoods into battlegrounds. Whether this moment will spark real change remains to be seen, but for now, the voices from Vila Cruzeiro and beyond refuse to be silenced.
