PGR: The Judicial Face of Political Persecution in Mozambique

Mozambique is going through one of the most critical phases of its young democracy. The Attorney General's Office (PGR), an institution that should represent balance and legality in the functioning of the state apparatus, has unfortunately become one of the most dangerous instruments against democracy itself. The case of the terrorism accusation against Venâncio Mondlane, the main opposition leader, is clear proof of the moral and functional collapse of the Mozambican justice system, hijacked by the Executive and used as a tool for political assassination.

The recent charges against Venâncio Mondlane for alleged terrorism—based on the allegation that he incited collective disobedience—represent a brutal attack on the fundamental rights and freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution. The regime's message is clear: any citizen who questions, speaks out, or dares to oppose the hegemonic power will be persecuted, silenced, and, if necessary, politically eliminated.

The legitimate exercise of citizenship is, therefore, being confused with insurrection. Mozambicans who took to the streets after the 2023 local elections—clearly fraudulent elections—are now treated as terrorists, while those who tampered with the results and bought off their consciences are rewarded with positions, money, and institutional protection. The country is witnessing the perversion of the State, where the system's violence is imposed against the people and not against the true criminals.

The Attorney General's Office is far from impartial. In recent decades, its actions have demonstrated a clear alignment with the interests of the ruling Frelimo party. Files on corruption, embezzlement, illicit enrichment, abuse of power, and even homicides involving figures linked to the ruling elite gather dust in the Attorney General's offices. None of the major scandals—including the Hidden Debts, the murders of election observers, or massacres committed by state agents—has merited a firm and public stance from the Attorney General's Office regarding accountability.

When it comes to opposition figures, however, the Prosecutor's Office's agility is impressive. In record time, cases are instituted, charges are drawn up, and the judicial apparatus is deployed as if the country were in a state of emergency. The criteria are selective, the behavior is ideological, and the result is disastrous for citizens' trust in justice.

One of the greatest threats to the construction of a democratic state in Mozambique is the executive branch's control of the judicial system. Magistrates—judges and prosecutors—live under constant surveillance and political pressure. Those who dare to rule against the interests of those in power are quickly marginalized. On the other hand, those who submit to political will are promoted and protected.

This intertwining of politics and justice undermines any attempt to uphold the rule of law. The independence of the Public Prosecutor's Office is a fiction. The most politically significant judicial decisions are, in practice, dictated behind the scenes, often with the complicity of high-ranking officials within the Attorney General's Office. Justice is no longer blind; it has become complicit.

The terrorism charge against Venâncio Mondlane cannot be viewed in isolation. It is part of a premeditated strategy, precisely designed to exclude him from the 2029 general elections. It is a dirty trick, a political ploy disguised as a lawsuit, whose sole purpose is to weaken the opposition and maintain Frelimo's political monopoly.

Mondlane today poses a real threat to the ruling party's hegemony. He is young, charismatic, articulate, and has grown in popularity, especially among the younger urban generations. Silencing him judicially is an attempt to decapitate the hope for change in the country. But this type of maneuver, rather than strengthening the regime, only reveals the desperation of those who can no longer win through democratic means.

The attempt to politically destroy Venâncio Mondlane could produce effects opposite to those desired by the regime. By resorting to the judicial system to silence dissenting voices, the ruling elite fuels hatred, encourages polarization, and corners thousands of citizens who, seeing legal avenues for political participation closed, may opt for more radical forms of protest.

The country has already experienced tragic episodes of mob violence, and signs of dissatisfaction are everywhere. Repression instead of dialogue; persecution instead of listening; manipulation instead of respect—these are paths that inevitably lead to the collapse of the social pact. The Attorney General's Office, by aligning itself with this authoritarian project, ceases to be part of the solution and becomes part of the problem.

Justice in Mozambique functions as a mechanism of oppression for the weak and protection for the powerful. Prisons are filled with poor young people accused of petty crimes, while white-collar criminals walk free. The Public Prosecutor's Office rarely investigates the political or business elite. When it does, it is because internal disputes within the system itself demand it—never out of institutional obligation.

The Attorney General's Office (PGR) has thus become a dysfunctional bureaucratic structure for the majority of the population, yet extremely effective when it comes to carrying out political orders. Instead of protecting the fundamental rights of Mozambicans, it prefers to protect the regime that guarantees its privileges. Instead of being a shield of legality, it has become a sword of persecution.

For all of this, the Attorney General's Office deserves a red card. Not for an occasional lapse or a one-off error, but for having systematically chosen to side with political power to the detriment of truth, justice, and the dignity of the Mozambican people. The Attorney General's Office has not been neutral. It has been active in promoting injustice, selective in its actions, complicit in rights violations, and a promoter of impunity.

Venâncio Mondlane's conviction—if it comes to fruition—will not be a judicial victory, but a historic fraud, an attack on democracy, a desperate attempt to prevent the inevitable: the emergence of a new generation of leaders and a new national political consciousness.

This red card is, above all, a public denunciation and a wake-up call. It's not just about defending Mondlane. It's about defending the right of every Mozambican to dream, to disagree, to demonstrate, to vote, and to be voted for—without being persecuted by the state itself. The Attorney General's Office must return to its constitutional role, or else it will be remembered by history as an accomplice to authoritarianism and the collapse of Mozambican democracy.