Rui Pinto vs. Corruption
Until 2019, Rui Pinto was an unassuming 34-year-old Portuguese man living in a modest neighborhood in Budapest. In that year, he was thrust into the spotlight when he was arrested and accused of 90 crimes: 68 counts of unauthorized access, 14 of mail violation, 6 of illegitimate access, as well as of computer sabotage, and attempted extortion. His transgressions primarily targeted institutions intertwined with the world of football, ultimately leading to the emergence of the scandal known as ‘Football Leaks.’ As he awaited trial for these charges in cell 42 of the PJ building, his story captivated the public imagination and sparked unprecedented debate.
While he attempted to profit from some of his crimes to the tune of 1 million euros (a modest amount given the wealth of confidential information he was revealed to have in his possession), it was later admitted by those involved in the extortion that no money exchange ever occurred. Instead, Rui Pinto chose a different path, making the vast trove of information freely accessible on a website he managed, embarking on a relentless and meticulous journey that would ultimately unveil what became known as a global web of corruption. Alongside managing this website, Rui Pinto distributed millions of confidential documents to journalists from Der Spiegel, European Investigative Collaborations, and various other media outlets from 2015 to 2018.
Rui Pinto’s Day in court came on September 4, 2021, and was followed by what could only be described as a legal spectacle and media circus, resembling a Hollywood movie. He was represented by a legal team that included William Bourdon, renowned for his defense of Julian Assange and Edward Snowden, the latter of whom testified on Rui Pinto’s behalf, characterizing his actions as a “public service”. Edwy Plenel, a journalist for the French journal Mediapart, deeply involved in unveiling Pinto’s documents, eloquently contended that there was a delicate equilibrium between safeguarding lawful secrets and the imperative to reveal information of public significance.
While behind bars, Rui Pinto maintained his collaboration with governmental bodies worldwide, serving as the whistleblower who had brought to light information under active investigation by these nations’ legal apparatus. Throughout the trial, a procession of left-leaning politicians made their way to the jail to meet him, and numerous local and European institutions recognized his efforts with awards and honors, championing his cause for release and protection under whistleblower statutes.
His case also saw the intervention of the Pope. Thanks to an amnesty agreement, 82 of the initial 90 charges that once loomed over him were cleared. Out of the remaining eight charges not expunged by the head of the Catholic Church, the justice system could only prove one beyond a reasonable doubt. This resulted in a reduced suspended sentence of four years for the crime of attempted extortion. Yet, this significant legal victory did little to overshadow his greater defeat in the battle against corruption.
You see, Rui Pinto wasn’t a computer genius. He held a degree in History and learned the hacking skills he employed on his own. Many of his hacks were relatively unsophisticated and could be traced back to him through IP addresses and other easily traceable information. Others exploited human error, such as guessing passwords, leaving minimal forensic evidence of the attacks. He was — in honesty — a regular guy, who traded a comfortable life in Budapest, where he ran a business selling vintage books and antiques, for a life of infamy. While he later alternated between different narratives about why he committed these crimes, he always maintained that he didn’t do it for the money, but because he thought he had a duty to the truth.
However, as the media’s attention shifted away, crucial issues surrounding the context of Rui Pinto’s crimes were left unexplored. Just a few years earlier, Edward Snowden had unveiled a trove of data exposing the U.S. government’s illicit surveillance of its citizens. This revelation triggered a groundswell of public outrage, setting ablaze a movement that drove substantial changes in legislation and policies, all aimed at safeguarding the rights to privacy for individuals and organizations alike. Ironically, it was that same privacy that, in the case of Football leaks, was weaponized to obscure the misdeeds of the many parties involved in the scandal, igniting in the process heated discussions about the right to transparency.
While many in the public debate recognized the necessity of striking a balance between these rights and emphasized the importance of safeguarding whistleblowers in the name of the public interest, it was unclear where that line should be drawn. Transparency and access to government-held information were undeniably potent tools for rectifying the deficiencies in governments that purported to be democratic but failed to fully uphold democratic principles. However, the private sector was driven by different objectives that did not inherently prioritize the public interest. What was then the price that the anti-corruption movement should attach to the private sector’s right to privacy?
Rui Pinto’s case contributed to a wave of public discourse that made increasingly clear that whistleblower protections need to go hand-in-hand with the duty to disclose and report at all levels of the public and private sector. In the UK, measures like the Persons of Significant Control register — which publishes the names of the true owners of British companies has been operational since 2016 and is being used to tackle financial crime. In just one example, in the year after it was created, it was used to expose the owner of a UK company behind a multinational weapon smuggling operation, thanks to the public nature of ownership data.
The current approach to implementing the duty to report and whistleblower protections, primarily covering employees of exposed companies or government bodies in the EU, also requires a reevaluation. Transparency International has presented a compelling case for extending anti-bribery and anti-corruption due diligence to all investments, distributing the responsibility for uncovering and reporting wrongdoings from public institutions and individuals like Rui Pinto to a wider range of private sector players.
As the collaboration between public and private sector entities may face resistance from some companies, it’s vital to protect their right to privacy. This involves defining not only who should report wrongdoings as they arise but also specifying the recipients of such reports. Transmitting private information within a democratic society to entities like journalists, law enforcement, anti-corruption, and transparency organizations should be distinguished from widespread public disclosure. The former ensures checks and balances on accuracy, consequences, and scope, while the latter can have severe repercussions for businesses without due diligence.
Ultimately, the intricacies of this matter don’t lend themselves to clear-cut, all-encompassing solutions. The best approach, under the spotlight of media scrutiny, is a process of trial and error, which should lead to answers that are satisfying in the sense of effectively managing corruption, enhancing transparency, and steering clear of overly simplistic conclusions, as opposed to seeking complete eradication of corruption, a lofty but often unattainable aim.
As for Rui Pinto, he appears to have reverted to the unassuming figure he was before his meteoric rise in 2019. As he left the courtroom after receiving his final sentence, he left behind a foreboding warning: “This chapter is closed. The fight will continue.”, and an important lesson on how the ultimate price of corruption is the trust placed in public and private entities by the public.
