Guerra na fronteira do Brasi? - Sergio Eduardo Moreira Lima (Estadão)

 O embaixador Sergio Eduardo Moreira Lima, amigo e colega na carreira diplomática, meu chefe na Fundação Alexandre de Gusmão - FUNAG, quando eu dirigia o IPRI, o Instituto de Pesquisa de Relações Internacionais, entre 2016 e 2019, acaba de publicar um artigo no Estadão, no qual resume os pontos centrais da postura internacional do Brasil, os padrões principais de sua diplomacia, e os valores e princípios de sua política externa, no tocante às ameaças recentes vindas de um presidente instável e ignorante sobre as relações internacionais, com a agravante de tocar numa fronteira próxima do Brasil, a da Venezuela.

Como afundar o seu país em pouco menos de 4 anos? (Um manual trumpista) - Paulo Roberto de Almeida

Como afundar o seu país em pouco menos de 4 anos? (Um manual trumpista)

 Paulo Roberto de Almeida

É possível pensar em um acordo de livre comércio com um desvaireado que pensa que "tarifa" é a palavra mais bonita que existe no dicionário, e que não aceita qualquer coisa abaixo de 15%, como requerimento para "reindustrializar" um país que já está caindo aos pedaços?

A China já conseguiu um acordo de livre comércio com todos os países da Asean; poderia conseguir um novo acordo com o TPP a 11, e talvez um da APEC inteira (sem os EUA), mais Colômbia, Peru e Chile (só faltaria a Índia que consegue ser mais protecionista do que o Brasil), e teríamos a maior zona de livre comércio do mundo (mas sem os EUA, infelizmente). O Canadá, certamente e, quem sabe? a UE, poderiam entrar também. Quem sabe o Alckmin convence o Lula a aderir?

Seria a reconstrução do sistema multilateral de comércio desmantelado por Mister Trump.

Vamos apostar no Xi Jinping?

Paulo Roberto de Almeida

Brasília, 30 de outubro de 2025

Sonhando com o ideal - Paulo Roberto de Almeida

 Confesso, confesso: sou um rato de bibliotecas. Acredito que passei metade de minha vida lendo em bibliotecas, e a outra metade retirando livros de bibliotecas para ler em casa. Estou exagerando claro, mas os melhores anos de minha vida foram na embaixada em Washington, quando a pequena biblioteca da embaixada era considerada uma verdadeira biblioteca para empréstimos interbibliotecas. Pelas madrugadas, eu consultava o catálogo da Library of Congress; pela manhã, eu fazia os meus pedidos, com a ajuda da bibliotecária Lucilia Harrington, e ao meio-dia eu tinha o imenso prazer de receber, em minha mesa, livros sobre o Brasil do século XIX. 

Gostaria de morar na Library of Congress, talvez na Hispanic Division, desde que eu pudesse dispor de uma máquina de espresso (o café americano é simplesmente horrível) e talvez de uma rede para ler confortavelmente. Seria pedir muito?

Paulo Roberto de Almeida 

Brasilia, 30/10/2025

Sempé fez um desenho adorável, no qual eu gostaria de estar dentro

  

Um mundo próximo da perfeição...

Desenho do grande Sempé, que me foi enviado por Alberto Morelli Cunha, a quem agradeço...

Depois dos desentendimentos, a aproximação entre Lula e Trump - Miriam Gomes Saraiva (Brasil em Foco Konrad Stiftung do Brasil)

Depois dos desentendimentos, a aproximação entre Lula e Trump
Miriam Gomes Saraiva
Brasil em Foco
Konrad Stiftung do Brasil, outubro 2025
https://www.kas.de/pt/web/brasilien/brasil-em-foco/detail/-/content/serie-brasil-em-foco-10-2025#:~:text=debates%20entre%20especialistas.-,Depois%20dos%20desentendimentos%2C%20a%20aproxima%C3%A7%C3%A3o%20entre%20Lula%20e%20Trump,-Miriam%20Gomes%20Saraiva

Há um relativo consenso de que, nos anos de 1990, as relações do Brasil com os Estados Unidos teriam sido “desdramatizadas”. O termo significava que seriam relações entre dois países soberanos e que haviam deixado de ser consideradas alinhamento ou enfrentamento. Com exceção dos primeiros anos no mandato de Jair Bolsonaro, até 2025 as relações entre os dois países ficaram fluidas. Mas no primeiro semestre de 2025, com o Donald Trump na presidência dos Estados Unidos, as relações se tornaram, no mínimo, dramáticas.

Ao chegar à presidência, Donald Trump adotou comportamentos desafiantes que trouxeram surpresa e impactos nas dimensões do multilateralismo, da segurança e do comércio internacional. O Brasil, por sua vez, com a presidência de Lula, segue uma política externa focada nas parcerias sul-sul e no grupo BRICS. Também busca contrabalançar levemente a presença internacional dos Estados Unidos. Internamente, o Brasil convive com processos judiciais contra Bolsonaro e outros réus que atuaram contra as instituições democráticas. Bolsonaro e, sobretudo, seu filho Eduardo Bolsonaro, são vinculados a atores políticos da extrema direita norte-americana, apoiadores de Trump.

Frente à influência de Eduardo Bolsonaro nos Estados Unidos e aos discursos de Lula na cúpula do BRICS, Trump decidiu sancionar o Brasil no campo comercial, com uma tarifa de importação de 40% acima dos outros 10% que já haviam sido instituídos. E, aparentemente, fechou as portas para conversas com representantes brasileiros. Ao declarar o aumento das tarifas, Trump acusou o Judiciário brasileiro de perseguir Bolsonaro. Implementou também sanções financeiras ao juiz relator do processo contra o ex-presidente.

A reação do governo de Lula foi defender a soberania e criticar as tarifas, mas evitando acusar o presidente Trump. Diplomaticamente, não tinha como ceder, mas seria bom deixar uma porta aberta para negociações futuras. Mas quando o tarifaço entrou em vigor, algumas brechas ficaram evidentes. Diversas exportações brasileiras foram consideradas exceções. Embora sem divulgação, a diplomacia brasileira e os agentes econômicos brasileiros e norte-americanos haviam começado a trabalhar para desmontar as sanções. Além das consequências negativas para a economia brasileira, o aumento de tarifas também teria impacto na economia norte-americana e nos preços de produtos muito consumidos no país. Empresas norte-americanas já sentiam o impacto.

A Assembleia Geral das Nações Unidas levou os dois presidentes a se encontrarem entre os discursos de um e de outro e, em sua fala, Trump indicou ter simpatizado com Lula. Para tanto, tiveram influência as negociações que já aconteciam sem o conhecimento público e a personalidade de Trump, que tem demonstrado afeição a governantes carismáticos que negociam através de relações pessoais diretas. Lula se enquadra nesta categoria.

Daí para a frente, os canais de negociação foram abertos e as diplomacias trabalharam para que os dois presidentes conversassem. A conversa teve lugar dias depois, por telefone, e ficou pendente um encontro presencial. Foi uma conversa amena em que Bolsonaro não foi mencionado, com os dois mostrando satisfação, o que indicou o início de negociações diplomáticas e comerciais para resolver o imbroglio. Ou seja, a questão de Bolsonaro saiu da agenda e os representantes dos dois países agora vão negociar.

É possível que essas tarifas sejam reduzidas e fique vigente apenas o correspondente às tarifas de 10%. Com a dramaticidade e anomalias à parte, pode-se afirmar que foi uma vitória do governo brasileiro e do próprio presidente Lula. Trump continuará com seu comportamento surpreendente e contrário ao multilateralismo, mas o governo brasileiro vem desmontando uma situação bastante incomum nas relações internacionais, em que um país parceiro e de boas relações diplomáticas decide punir com tarifas altas o outro por conta de um processo judicial contra um ex-presidente golpista.

 

To understand Israel, remember the Jews of the Arab world - Nachum Kaplan (Moral Clarity)

 Para conhecer uma parte das tragédias do Oriente Médio, ocorridas com o povo judeu, agora com os palestinos, é preciso conhecer sua história. O amigo Jayme Almeida me mandou um pequeno ensaio do Nachum Kaplan

To understand Israel, remember the Jews of the Arab world.
You can’t talk about Palestinian refugees without talking about Jewish ones.
Nachum Kaplan
Oct 29

Future of Jewish is the ultimate newsletter by and for people
passionate about Judaism and Israel. Subscribe to better understand and become smarter about the Jewish world.

This is a guest essay by Nachum Kaplan of the newsletter, “Moral Clarity.”

The story the world tells about the Middle East has a missing chapter — one torn out, burned, and buried. It is the story of 850,000 Jews driven from their homes by the very regimes that now sermonize endlessly about Palestinian suffering.

For centuries, Jews lived in Arab and Muslim lands as dhimmis — a tolerated but subordinated class permitted to worship so long as they paid an extortionate tax. It was protection money wrapped in piety. They lived at the mercy of rulers, were often made to wear distinguishing badges, confined to ghettos, and periodically subjected to pogroms that punctured long stretches of uneasy coexistence.

Yet Jewish life was woven deeply into the fabric of the Arab world. Baghdad was a quarter Jewish in 1910. Cairo’s Jews ran its banks and its press. Aleppo’s Jews guarded the fabled Aleppo Codex. Yemen’s Jews preserved a Hebrew liturgy older than the Babylonian exile itself. All of this vanished within a single generation of Israel’s rebirth in 1948, but it began before that.

In 1929, in the holy city of Hebron, Arab mobs slaughtered 67 Jews, mutilated bodies, and destroyed synagogues in a community that had existed for millennia. British police stood by as neighbors turned on neighbors. The irony was that the Haganah, the Jewish militia, had warned Hebron’s Jews to flee but they refused, insisting they have lived peacefully among the Arabs. The massacre was not an aberration, but a preview: a warning of the feral hatred that would later consume Jewish life across the Arab world.

In Iraq, the 1941 Farhud pogrom was the next grim rehearsal. Fueled by Nazi propaganda, mobs in Baghdad murdered nearly 200 Jews, looted 600 businesses, and desecrated synagogues. By 1948, anti-Jewish legislation made Jewish life untenable. The Iraqi Parliament’s Law Number 1 of 1950 stripped Jews of citizenship, forcing them to leave immediately and forfeit their property.

Prime Minister Tawfiq al-Suwaidi was blunt: “The Jews are not of Iraq. Let them go.” Within two years, 120,000 Iraqi Jews had been airlifted to Israel in Operation Ezra and Nehemiah, leaving behind homes, shops, and synagogues that the state expropriated. Baghdad’s Great Synagogue became a warehouse.

In Egypt, after the nascent State of Israel’s victory in its 1948 War
of Independence, Jews were denounced as “Zionist agents.” Following the Suez War in 1956, President Gamal Abdel Nasser expelled thousands. His edict was chillingly direct: “We will expel the Jews. We will drive them out of Egypt.” Families were given mere days to depart, carrying no more than one suitcase and 20 Egyptian pounds. Everything else was “sequestered” by the state. In December 1956, the Ministry of Religious Endowments declared that Jewish synagogues would henceforth belong to Egypt.

In Yemen, where Jews had for centuries been treated as pariahs — forbidden to ride animals, forced to haul Muslim refuse, and subjected to the “orphans decree” that compelled Jewish orphans to be raised as Muslims — nearly the entire community of 49,000 was airlifted to Israel in Operation Magic Carpet from 1949 to 1950. They left barefoot, carrying little more than Torah scrolls. The Yemeni government seized their homes and declared all Jewish property state-owned.

In Libya, pogroms in Tripoli in 1945 and 1948 killed hundreds,
destroyed synagogues, and shattered a 2,000-year-old community. By 1967, anti-Jewish riots — abetted by police — finished the work. When Muammar Gaddafi seized power in 1969, he decreed: “All property of the Jews is the property of the Libyan state.” The last Jews were deported in 1970.

In Syria, Jews were held hostage in their own land. A 1947 decree
froze all Jewish bank accounts and barred the sale of Jewish property. Jews were forbidden to emigrate. Prime Minister Khalid al-Azm admitted the motive openly: “We cannot let them go; they are our bargaining chip.” Only in the 1990s were the final few hundred allowed to leave quietly.

From Casablanca to Tehran, the message was the same: You are Jews. You are no longer welcome. Leave or die. By the 1970s, the ancient Jewish communities of the Arab world — some predating Islam itself — had been extinguished.

The figures are not in dispute, though they are systematically
ignored. The World Organization of Jews from Arab Countries documented that 856,000 Jews fled or were expelled from Arab and Muslim lands between 1948 and 1972. By comparison, the United Nations itself estimates that 711,000 Palestinians were displaced during the State of Israel’s War of Independence. The Jewish exodus was larger, yet it is scarcely spoken of.

The financial dimension is equally staggering. In 2008, Israel’s
parliament estimated the value of confiscated Jewish property at $300 billion in today’s dollars. Jews left behind over 100,000 square kilometers of land — five times the size of the State of Israel. And yet only one refugee population is granted eternal visibility, institutionalized through a UN agency exclusively for Palestinians, while the other was consigned to oblivion.

The reason is not mysterious. The world could only stomach one refugee story — and it chose the Palestinians. Not because their suffering was greater (it was not), but because their suffering could be weaponized against the Jewish state.

The Arab regimes that expelled Jews also froze Palestinians in camps to use as political hostages. Lebanon barred them from dozens of professions. Syria denied them citizenship. Egypt confined them to squalor. Unlike any other refugees in history, their status was deliberately made hereditary.

Meanwhile, the Jews of Baghdad and Sana’a were absorbed into Israel. No UN agency to ossify their victimhood. No lachrymose resolutions. No theater of endless camps. They became citizens, soldiers, teachers, builders. They moved on. That dignity disqualified them from the pity-industrial complex.

Arab diplomats and Western progressives speak with pious solemnity about the Palestinian “right of return.” They never mention the rights of Jews to return to Cairo, Damascus, or Fez. The hypocrisy was baked into international law itself. In 1967, UN Resolution 242 called for “a just settlement of the refugee problem.” Note the singular noun — problem, not Palestinian refugees. At the time, diplomats understood it to mean both Arab and Jewish refugees.

British Ambassador Lord Caradon, who drafted the resolution, has clarified: “It referred both to the Arab refugees and to the Jewish refugees.” That understanding has since been memory-holed. Today, the “refugee problem” has been reimagined as a Palestinian-only affair.

The erasure of Jews from Arab lands is not just a historical crime; it is a present deception. It sustains the fiction that Israel is a
colonial implant of European settlers. This is a phantasmagoria of
lies. Half of Israel’s Jewish population descends from Middle Eastern and North African communities. They are not intruders; they are the children of Baghdad, Sana’a, Tripoli, Aleppo, and Hebron.

When Nasser expelled Egyptian Jews in 1956, when Iraq denaturalized its Jews in 1950, when Gaddafi seized their property in 1970 — those Jews did not vanish. They became Israelis. Their return to sovereignty is not colonialism; it is reclamation. To ignore them is to participate in historical amnesia.

Every time diplomats mutter platitudes about “1967 borders” or label Zionism as “settler colonialism,” they are erasing the Jews of the Middle East. This amnesia has a political cost: It feeds the
intellectual fraud that paints Jews as alien to the region they once defined. It feeds violence.

The memory of these Jews must be restored — not only for justice, but for clarity. Without their story, the Middle East narrative collapses into caricature: Israelis as colonial usurpers, Palestinians as eternal victims, Arabs as innocent bystanders.

With their story restored, the picture sharpens: Arabs as both
persecutors and victims, Jews as both refugees and returnees, the State of Israel as both sanctuary and reclamation. This is why the subject is taboo.

To acknowledge the Jews’ expulsion from Arab lands is to dismantle the mythology that underpins decades of failed diplomacy. It is to admit that the refugee problem was two-sided, that justice cannot mean indulging Palestinian fantasies of “return” while erasing the Jewish exodus.

The forgotten Jews of the Middle East were not forgotten by accident; they were buried to make room for a myth. A myth has poisoned international institutions, Western academia, and Arab political culture for decades. It is time to exhume the truth.

Memory is not passive. It is resistance. To remember the Jews of
Baghdad, Cairo, and Sana’a is to resist the denial and falsification
of history. To demand restitution for their stolen property is to
puncture the sanctimony of Arab regimes. To tell their story alongside the Palestinians’ is to force a reckoning: This was a two-way displacement, and Israel’s survival is not an anomaly but an answer.

Israel is not the intruder in the Middle East. It is its memory,
returned in flesh. To remember the Jews of the Arab world is to
remember what the region once was, and what it chose to destroy. That truth will outlast every lie.

Um caderno de notas maoísta, tão luxuoso quanto os melhores produtos capitalistas

 

Acabo de ganhar, vindo diretamente da China, caderno de notas fielmente maoísta, comemorando os 90 anos da conferência do PCC, Zunyi 1935, quando finalmente Mao Tsetung consolidou sua liderança no partido, para continuar lutando contra Chiang Kaischek, acompanhado de um marcador de livros estilo Guarda Revolucionário. Quem me trouxe foi o Pedro Paulo Palazzo, que não é maoísta, mas acaba de voltar de uma semana na China. Pronto, já tenho caderno para meus estudos sobre o único capitalismo leninista de sucesso no mundo comunista.