Brazil Hides Betting-License Files Under 100-Year Secrecy Order

BRAZIL · BUSINESS

Brazil’s betting secrecy order lets the Finance Ministry hide the licensing files of online gambling firms for up to 100 years, shielding fee payments and the true owners behind each app, the newspaper O Estado de S.Paulo reported.

What the betting secrecy order covers

The Finance Ministry has applied Brazil’s freedom-of-information law to the dossiers that decide which gambling apps may operate in the country. The newspaper Estadao reported that some of those restrictions can last as long as a century.

Freedom-of-information rules in Brazil normally exist to widen public access, not narrow it. Using the same law to lock files away for a century inverts that purpose, which is why transparency campaigners have reacted with alarm.

The seal blocks public access to the documents companies filed and to the technical notes drafted by the Secretariat of Prizes and Betting. It also hides how each operator paid its R$30m, or about $6m, licence fee.

Crucially, the order extends to the beneficial owners, the people who ultimately profit from each platform. That is the single piece of information most central to anti-money-laundering checks.

That last point matters most to investors and compliance teams. Knowing who controls a licensed operator is the basic test that banks, payment processors and partners run before doing business.

Without that disclosure, a counterparty cannot easily check for sanctioned individuals, politically exposed persons or hidden cross-ownership. Brazil’s own anti-laundering framework treats beneficial ownership as a starting point, not an optional extra.

Why a Russian-origin operator is at the centre

One of the requests the ministry refused concerned the file that cleared 1xBet, an operator that began in Russia and has been banned or restricted in several jurisdictions. Reporting indicates it was active in Brazil before it held a formal authorisation.

For a foreign reader, the detail is striking. A market that legalised betting partly to push out shadow operators is now refusing to show how one of the most scrutinised names on its roster was approved in the first place.

The ministry’s defence is administrative rather than political. It argued that manually screening and hiding sensitive passages would demand disproportionate effort, and that its systems cannot anonymise parts of a document without exposing protected data.

Critics see a thinner explanation. A regulator that can vet a global operator and collect a multimillion-real fee, they argue, should also be able to publish a redacted version of what it approved.

The political backdrop

The secrecy lands amid a sharp shift in tone from the top. President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva signed the 2023 law that regulated online betting, yet he has since said he favours shutting down operators he regards as useless to the country.

Industry associations counter that a ban would not kill demand but would push gamblers back into an unregulated black market. They argue regulation, not prohibition, is the way to protect both players and tax revenue.

The betting levy has become a meaningful line in federal accounts, and the sector now employs thousands and sponsors much of Brazilian football. A sudden reversal would ripple well beyond the apps themselves.

Federal prosecutors are watching the file. In late May, according to Veja, they opened an inquiry, expected to run a year, into how the ministry enforces the betting rules and how the health system treats gambling addiction.

Why it matters for the market

Brazil is one of the world’s largest betting markets, with listed operators and global names competing for share. Opacity over licensing raises the cost of due diligence for every counterparty in that chain.

Banks, card networks and listed sponsors all need to know who sits behind a betting brand before they lend, process payments or sign a shirt deal. When the regulator’s own file is sealed, each of those firms must rebuild that picture privately, at its own cost and risk.

The timing is awkward. The 2026 World Cup is expected to drive a surge in wagering across the region, and operators are spending heavily on sponsorship to capture it.

That makes the question of who owns them more pressing, not less. Sponsorship money flowing into football clubs and broadcasters only sharpens the public interest in the answer.

The episode also tests the credibility of a young regulator that sold itself on transparency. How the dispute is resolved will signal whether Brazil’s betting framework is built for scrutiny or shielded from it.

Frequently asked questions