For
more
than
two
weeks,
Brazilians
have
been
without
access
to
X.
Brazil’s
Supreme
Court
blocked
the
platform
after
Elon
Musk
failed
to
comply
with
court
rulings.
As
X
evades
the
ban
and
Musk’s
companies
work
slowly
toward
a
resolution,
the
real
concern
for
many
isn’t
just
the
absence
of
social
media.
It’s
Musk’s
power
play
over
the
government
as
he
backs
Brazil’s
far
right.
X
was
banned
on
August
30th
after
months
of
back-and-forth
between
Musk
and
Supreme
Court
Justice
Alexandre
de
Moraes.
The
conflict
began
in
April
when
Musk
publicized
government
requests
for
information
and
then
removed
all
restrictions
imposed
on
X
profiles
by
Brazilian
court
orders.
Moraes
responded
by
including
Musk
in
an
investigation
over
organized
political
disinformation
and
subpoenaing
X’s
Brazilian
legal
representative.
Musk
abruptly
shuttered
its
local
operations,
leading
Moraes
to
ban
it
for
violating
local
laws.
Since
then,
negotiations
between
both
sides
have
proceeded
gradually.
The
Supreme
Court
announced
a
transfer
of
R$
18.3
million
from
X
and
Starlink
to
the
national
treasury,
indirectly
paying
a
fine
for
not
removing
content.
Moraes
subsequently
ordered
the
unblocking
of
both
companies’
bank
accounts.
Musk
has
reportedly
met
with
Vanessa
Souza,
a
Brazilian
specialist
in
cyber
law,
and
he’s
appointed
a
pair
of
attorneys
to
represent
X
in
Brazil
—
leading
Moraes
to
ask
if
X
has
reopened
operations,
which
could
eventually
clear
the
way
for
a
lifted
ban.
But
Musk’s
public
response
has
largely
been
confrontational.
In
the
past
couple
of
weeks,
he
has
criticized
the
Brazilian
Supreme
Court’s
decision
as
well
as
the
president,
claiming
the
ban
violates
free
speech
and
sets
a
dangerous
precedent.
He’s
rallied
public
support,
primarily
from
far-right
influencers
and
politicians.
And
this
week,
some
Brazilians
briefly
got
access
to
X
again.
According
to
the
Brazilian
Association
of
Internet
and
Telecommunications
Providers
(ABRINT),
X
made
a
“significant”
update
early
on
September
18th,
changing
its
design
to
use
IP
addresses
linked
to
Cloudflare
and
routing
around
service
providers’
blocks.
ABRINT
said
the
update
put
providers
in
a
“delicate
situation”
while
regulators
attempted
to
get
it
blocked
again.
X
officially
called
the
ban
“inadvertent
and
temporary,”
but
Moraes
levied
extra
fines
against
it
for
what
he
dubbed
“willful,
illegal
and
persistent”
evasion,
citing
a
Musk
tweet
that
seemed
to
celebrate
the
move.
Musk’s
defiance
is
part
of
a
long
flirtation
with
Brazil’s
currently
out-of-power
far
right.
“He
is
not
just
an
influencer
of
the
far
right,
he
is
an
activist,”
says
Camila
Rocha,
a
researcher
at
the
Brazilian
Center
of
Analysis
and
Planning
(CEBRAP)
and
a
political
scientist.
“The
collaboration,
the
harmony
between
what
is
happening
in
Brazil
and
what
is
on
the
networks,
is
huge.”
Whatever
happens
next
in
the
X–Brazil
saga,
Musk
could
claim
it’s
a
win.
A
court
is
potentially
clearing
the
way
for
X
to
come
back;
in
the
short
term,
it’s
evaded
its
ban
Luiz
Augusto
D’Urso,
a
lawyer
specializing
in
digital
law,
describes
X’s
closing
of
its
Brazilian
office
as
a
dramatic
gesture
that
forced
Moraes’
hand.
“It’s
important
to
note
that
the
Supreme
Court’s
initial
ruling
was
never
to
block
the
platform.
Things
escalated,”
D’Urso
says.
“The
last
decision
before
the
ban
required
the
platform
to
appoint
a
legal
representative
in
Brazil,
which
is
a
legal
obligation.
When
Musk
refused,
the
result
was
suspension.”
Musk
wasted
no
time
turning
the
issue
into
a
political
spectacle.
On
August
29th,
he
referred to
Justice
Moraes
as
“the
tyrant,
@Alexandre,
dictator
of
Brazil”
in
a
post
about
Starlink’s
assets
being
frozen,
saying
“[Brazilian
President]
Lula
is
his
lapdog.”
Another
post
calls
Moraes
“a
declared
criminal
of
the
worst
kind,
disguised
as
a
judge.”
Brazil’s
right
wing
has
seized
the
moment,
too,
framing
the
X
ban
as
a
fight
for
freedom
of
speech.
Musk
has
interacted
with
supporters
of
the
far
right
using
emoji
of
the
Brazilian
flag
(in
context,
a
symbol
of
the
movement).
He
supported
demonstrations
on
September
7th,
or
Brazilian
Independence
Day,
by
sharing
Jair
Bolsonaro-supporting
profiles
and
calling
on
users
to
participate,
and
he
posted
a
photo
of
himself
alongside
former
President
Bolsonaro.
Rocha
notes
that
Musk’s
support
for
Brazil’s
far
right
has
been
obvious
for
years.
The
billionaire
has
become
popular
in
parts
of
Brazil
thanks
to
his
Starlink
satellite
internet
service,
which
operates
across
the
country
and
particularly
in
the
Amazon.
Starlink
also
provides
services
to
the
Brazilian
Armed
Forces.
This
activism
tallies
with
his
support
of
right-wing
politics
globally,
including
elsewhere
in
Latin
America.
Musk
has
an
ongoing
friendly
relationship
with
Argentinian
President
Javier
Milei,
with
whom
he’s
agreed
on
“the
importance
of
technological
development
for
the
progress
of
humanity.”
Milei
has
supported
Musk
throughout
the
conflict
with
the
Brazilian
Supreme
Court,
accusing
it
of
wanting
to
“prohibit
the
space
where
citizens
exchange
ideas
freely.”
Musk
has
even
(perhaps
jokingly)
suggested
that
“we’ll
coup
whoever
we
want”
in
Latin
America,
responding
to
an
accusation
that
the
US
government
intervened
against
Bolivian
President
Evo
Morales
to
secure
lithium
supplies
for
Tesla.
In
Brazil,
Musk
—
who
despite
his
public
commitment
to
free
speech
has
blocked
content
at
the
behest
of
conservative
governments
—
stands
to
gain
by
resolutely
supporting
Bolsonaro’s
far
right.
“He
presents
himself
as
a
defender
of
freedom,
but
he
is
exclusively
business-oriented
and
has
no
commitment
to
democracy,”
says
Sérgio
Soares
Braga,
a
researcher
at
the
National
Institute
of
Science
and
Technology
in
Digital
Democracy
(INCT.DD).
The
far
right
offers
a
clearer
path
to
the
“unregulated
capitalism”
Musk
favors.
“He
presents
himself
as
a
defender
of
freedom,
but
he
is
exclusively
business-oriented”
But
Musk’s
resistance
is
also
a
direct
fight
over
how
and
whether
American
tech
(and
particularly
internet)
companies
can
be
regulated
abroad.
An
open
letter
sent
on
September
17th,
as
translated
by
The
Verge,
called
the
ban
part
of
an
“evolving
global
conflict
between
digital
corporations
and
those
seeking
to
build
a
democratic,
people-centered
digital
landscape
focused
on
social
and
economic
development.”
It
accused
Musk
of
sabotaging
“and
operate
against
the
public
sector’s
ability
to
create
and
maintain
an
independent
digital
agenda
based
on
local
values,
needs
and
aspirations.” The
letter
was
signed
by
more
than
50
intellectuals, including
economist
Mariana
Mazzucato
and
author
Cory
Doctorow.
“Musk
wants
to
control
a
wide
array
of
industries,
from
big
tech
to
electric
vehicles,
which
grants
him
significant
economic
power
and
geopolitical
influence,”
says
Braga.
But
in
Brazil,
Braga
argues,
he’s
overstepped
his
bounds.
“He
can’t
abuse
this
power
to
interfere
in
a
nation’s
sovereignty.”
Musk
is
making
sacrifices
by
keeping
X
offline.
Competing
social
networks
have
reaped
gains
from
the
block
—
Bluesky,
for
instance,
says
it’s
gained
millions
of
new
users
largely
from
Brazil.
“There
are
growing
suspicions
that
Musk
has
ulterior
motives,”
says
Rocha.
“Why
would
he
let
X
remain
offline
for
so
long?
What
does
he
stand
to
gain?”
One
potential
answer
is
that
Musk
doesn’t
have
much
left
to
lose
by
shrinking
Twitter’s
base
in
Brazil.
The
platform
has
already
reportedly
lost
at
least
71
percent
of
its
value
since
Musk
acquired
it,
and
it
shows
little
sign
of
recovery.
(By
contrast,
Musk’s
Starlink
eventually
caved
to
demands
that
it
block
X,
though
it’s
said
it’s
still
pursuing
legal
action.)
It’s
more
important
to
take
a
stand
against
Brazil’s
policies
—
not
out
of
idealism,
but
a
pragmatic
bid
for
more
control.
But
for
D’Urso,
Musk’s
endgame
is
clear:
he
benefits
either
way.
“If
he
backs
down,
he
portrays
himself
as
the
man
who
stood
up
to
the
Supreme
Court.
If
X
remains
banned,
he
becomes
a
martyr,
claiming
persecution.
It’s
a
win-win
situation
for
him.”
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