OUR STORY SO FAR

In early 2011, something finally snapped! Locally Employed Staff (LES) of the Brazilian Government working at embassies and consulates across the globe had spent decades dealing with low wages, unfair treatment and abuse from the Brazilian Ministry of Foreign Affairs (AKA Itamaraty). Living costs were rising fast and salaries weren’t keeping up with them. Even worse, Itamaraty headquarters in Brasília had sent a simple cold message to every diplomatic mission abroad: “Don’t ask for pay raises. There’s no budget.”

But for the local staff, this issue wasn’t just about money, it was about dignity, fairness and being treated with basic respect.

One staff member (LES number 1) decided to make a call to another diplomatic mission just to compare notes. What they found was no surprise: the frustration was everywhere. Then came the bold idea: Why not write directly to the Brazilian President Dilma Rousseff, herself? She was certainly the only one with the power (and possibly the will) to change our circumstances. As it turned out, this second colleague (LES number 2) had already started drafting such a letter. (LES number 1) offered to finish it.

They didn’t stop there. A third colleague (LES number 3) jumped in, quickly rallying support from other diplomatic missions. Some gathered signatures, others built momentum among teams worldwide.  Meanwhile (LES number 1) continued refining the letter with support from political science experts in Brazil, and incorporating economic data provided by allies in USA and Europe.

Before long, nearly every post around the world had signed the letter to the President. Only Chicago, Washington and the Brazilian UN Mission office were still pending.

For the first time ever, Brazilian Government Locally Employed Staff (LES) from across the globe were united, organized and speaking with one voice.

Our shared mission? Justice, recognition and change.

That was the turning point. We chose to make a powerful and visual statement.

On one day in July that same year, most LES staff members across the world dressed in black, a silent but unyielding act of solidarity. Outside embassies and official buildings, powerful group photographs were taken – rows of determined faces, united in dignity and resolve. These publicly shared images were released online soon after the letter addressed to President Dilma Rousseff was sent, transformed our written appeal into living testimony. The photos gave soul to the demonstration, human faces that spoke for themselves, impossible to ignore or silence.

It was, by all accounts, a symbolic act of resistance – calculated, courageous, and unmistakably resonant with the life and legacy of President Dilma Rousseff herself. In the turbulent 1960s, under the grip of Brazil’s military dictatorship, resistance movements emerged in defiance of systemic oppression, convinced that only steadfast opposition could restore justice.

Among them was a young Dilma, destined to become a prominent figure in that struggle. Captured in 1970, she endured brutal torture and was sentenced to four years in prison. On the day of her trial, a photograph was taken, now iconic, showing Dilma, unbroken, head held high before two military officers who dared not reveal their own faces. Decades later, during her presidency, we too stood visible and unyielding, our own photos captured in quiet defiance. And in those photographs, echoing hers, remained a solemn, public hope: that justice, at long last, might prevail.

For years, the government capitalized on the inability of LES staff to easily communicate, keeping them isolated through a strategy of division and silence.

Most still feared retaliation – until Antonio Carlos di Gaspero, a former LES who knew the risks firsthand, stepped forward. No longer an employee, he could act as the public face of our movement, free from dismissal or workplace penalties. By temporarily leading, he gave cover to those still in post. His courage lit the fuse: silence was no longer an option.

The rise of the internet began to dismantle old barriers. With the growing stability and accessibility of video conferencing for both business and personal use, we could finally see and hear one another across continents. Connection became human, communication authentic, trust undeniable. For the first time, the membership could speak easily and effectively, giving the movement strength and cohesion.

In this new environment, the movement organised its first-ever global online election, held over a single weekend. Colleagues worldwide cast their votes, electing a Board of Directors, President, and Vice-President from among active employees. Embedded in the very system they sought to reform, they carried the movement forward with legitimacy, unity, and authority.

For the first time, Locally Employed Staff (LES), long marginalized and rendered invisible by the Brazilian Government was now an organised movement with visibility and a voice that could no longer be ignored. A historic barrier had been broken. The once-silent backbone of Brazil’s diplomacy had finally stepped into the light.

From that historic moment of courage and unity, something powerful was born: AFLEX – which stands for Associação de Funcionários Locais no EXterior (the Association of Local Staff Abroad). The first international association created to represent us, the Locally Employed Staff (LES) of the Brazilian Government.

Ever hopeful, AFLEX and our members realised the journey to achieve justice, fairness and change would not be without challenges.

Despite our belief in justice and our hope that a formal letter addressed to then-President Dilma Rousseff would be enough to prompt fair action, it became increasingly clear over the passing days and many months that our letter and concerns strategically and conveniently had no response. Perhaps our letter never even reached her hands.  

As the world turned its eyes toward Brazil for the 2014 FIFA World Cup and the 2016 Rio Olympic Games, we recognized a rare opportunity to make our voices impossible to ignore.

With courage born of mistreatment, Locally Employed Staff (LES) across the globe prepared to make another more noticeable stand. We boldly announced a two-day strike ahead of the World Cup, leveraging the visibility of these international events to shed light on our precarious working conditions.

At that time, we made national and international headlines, AFLEX took the lead, speaking publicly on behalf of thousands. Our cause even appeared in The New York Times, highlighting how unresolved labour issues could impact on the tourist experience during the World Cup. What began as frustration was transformed into a courageous act of collective resistance.

But the courageous decision to step forward as visible representatives of LES, combined with the bold act of a coordinated two-day global strike, came at a very heavy cost.

At that time, AFLEX was led by its trailblazing President, Claudia Siano Rajecki, then a LES based in Atlanta, USA (today a former LES). Supported in person by the AFLEX Vice President and the Association’s lawyer, she travelled to Brasília to take part in a live Senate hearing on workplace harassment in the public service. The session, broadcasted globally, allowed colleagues everywhere to watch and feel part of the moment.

They had been invited by Senator Paulo Paim and spoke on behalf of all LES, determined to tell the truth. In doing so, they knew they were stepping into dangerous territory. That risk became clear as they left the auditorium at the end of the session, when they were heckled by Brasilia-based Itamaraty employees.

These civil servants, unlike LES, already enjoyed full employment rights and clear career progression at home. They also benefitted from overseas postings, with privileges such as rent-free accommodation, comprehensive free health care, relocation support, and valuable international experience. Many feared that AFLEX’s rising voice might threaten or diminish their own opportunities to be sent abroad. As Claudia and her team walked out, the hostility was plain: voices shouted, “Go back to wherever you came from,” and “You only want the best of both worlds.”

Then, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs itself responded swiftly and forcefully as well. A series of suppressive measures were implemented within Embassies and Consulates abroad, far from the Brazilian public eye and beyond the reach of consistent oversight or accountability mechanisms.

Punishments came quickly for those brave enough to step forward and tell their stories. In many cases, Locally Employed Staff (LES) faced retaliatory dismissals, abrupt non-renewals of contracts or were strategically isolated from colleagues.

Some were subjected to intimidation and veiled threats, while others encountered new procedural obstacles deliberately designed to discourage collective action.

Divide-and-conquer tactics were deployed to fracture solidarity, and selective benefits were used to mute dissent. In some missions, restrictive clauses or verbal pressure discouraged staff from seeking outside support or speaking publicly.

These coordinated efforts were not isolated missteps but pointed attempts to suppress a legitimate call for fairness and dignity, silencing those who dared to demand accountability and change.

What happened next?