ONE year into an American prison sentence that was supposed to last eight and a half years, Manuel Chang is already seeking early release. The 69-year-old former Mozambican finance minister, convicted in August 2024 for his central role in the $2 billion “tuna bonds” scandal, now faces a grim calculus: having spent six years in custody between South Africa and the United States before sentencing, he apparently believes he has paid enough.
The arithmetic tells a damning story. Chang pocketed $7 million in bribes between 2013 and 2016 to sign government guarantees on fraudulent loans that devastated one of the world’s poorest nations. More than $200 million in loan proceeds vanished into kickbacks rather than funding the maritime projects they were meant to support. When the three state-owned companies defaulted, they missed over $700 million in payments, triggering a currency collapse and financial crisis that plunged Mozambique deeper into poverty.
Yet when US District Judge Nicholas Garaufis sentenced Chang in January 2025, he recommended credit for the six years already served, potentially making him eligible for release after just two and a half additional years in American custody. Federal prosecutors had sought between 11 and 14 years; Chang’s lawyers argued for no additional prison time at all. The judge split the difference, delivering what some viewed as a surprisingly lenient sentence given the scale of devastation.
Now Chang appears to be testing whether American compassion extends even further.
The First Step Act Loophole
Chang’s timing is not coincidental. Since the First Step Act of 2018 fundamentally reformed federal compassionate release procedures, prisoners no longer need Bureau of Prisons approval to petition courts directly. After submitting a request to a warden and waiting 30 days, inmates can file their own motions citing “extraordinary and compelling reasons” for early release.
The law was designed primarily for the terminally ill, the elderly facing serious health deterioration, or those experiencing family crises. But expanded 2023 guidelines have broadened the criteria to include “unusually long sentences” and victims of prison abuse, creating ambiguity that defence attorneys have exploited.
Federal courts granted approximately 16% of compassionate release motions in fiscal year 2024, according to US Sentencing Commission data. Grant rates vary dramatically by jurisdiction; the Second Circuit, which covers New York, where Chang is imprisoned, approved 34.9% of such motions—the highest rate in the country.
For a 69-year-old defendant who has already spent seven years in custody, the medical argument practically writes itself. Age combined with prison conditions and chronic health issues forms the classic compassionate release trifecta. Whether Chang suffers from terminal illness or serious medical conditions remains unreported, but his age alone places him in a demographic that federal courts have shown an increasing willingness to release early.
Justice Interrupted
The irony is savage. Chang’s conviction represented what Acting US Attorney Carolyn Pokorny called proof that “foreign officials who abuse their power to commit crimes targeting the US financial system will meet US justice.” The case required years of international cooperation, diplomatic battles between Mozambique and the United States over extradition jurisdiction, and a four-week trial that finally held a high-ranking government official accountable for betraying one of the world’s poorest nations.
Yet American justice may prove far more forgiving than Mozambican suffering.
While Chang contemplates early release in a US federal facility with access to medical care, educational programs, and due process, Mozambique continues to struggle with the consequences of his corruption. The country’s civil society organisations, particularly the Mozambique Budget Monitoring Forum, fought for years to ensure Chang faced trial in the United States rather than Mozambique, where they argued justice would not be served. They won that battle in South African courts, only to watch as the American system potentially offers him a swift exit.
The precedent matters. Credit Suisse subsidiaries involved in the scheme paid $475 million in penalties and disgorgement. Several Privinvest executives and Mozambican officials were convicted domestically, including Ndambi Guebuza, son of former President Armando Guebuza. But many participants remain free, protected by immunity or jurisdictional barriers. If Chang secures early release after minimal additional prison time, the message to corrupt officials worldwide becomes troublingly clear: the risk-reward calculation of grand corruption remains firmly in favour of the corrupt.
The Compassion Paradox
Federal compassionate release exists for legitimate humanitarian reasons. Elderly prisoners who no longer pose public safety threats, terminally ill inmates denied proper medical care, and those facing extraordinary family circumstances deserve consideration for early release. The system should distinguish between punishment and cruelty.
But Chang’s case tests whether compassion can be extended too far. His crimes were not youthful indiscretions matured by decades of incarceration. They were calculated acts of betrayal committed while holding the highest financial office in his nation, executed with full knowledge of the devastation they would cause. The bribes he accepted represented more than 40 times Mozambique’s per capita GDP—a sum that could have funded healthcare, education, and infrastructure for hundreds of thousands of citizens.
The judge’s original sentencing recommendation already factored in Chang’s pre-trial detention. An early release petition effectively asks for a second discount on accountability, one that Mozambique’s defrauded investors and impoverished citizens cannot afford.
The Accountability Gap
Perhaps the most troubling aspect of Chang’s potential early release is what it reveals about international corruption prosecutions. Western nations have grown increasingly sophisticated at freezing assets, securing extraditions, and trying foreign officials who commit financial crimes touching their jurisdictions. The Justice Department’s kleptocracy prosecutions represent genuine progress in combating transnational corruption.
Yet the sentences rarely match the crimes, especially when age, health, and time already served become mitigating factors. For every Viktor Bout serving 25 years for arms trafficking or Bernie Madoff dying in prison for his Ponzi scheme, there are Manuel Changs whose corruption devastated entire nations but who may serve less time than small-time drug offenders.
The disparity sends signals that resonate far beyond courtrooms. When Mozambican officials see Chang potentially freed after minimal US prison time, having already pocketed millions and maintained his freedom for years before arrest, they learn that grand corruption offers better odds than street crime. When international investors see such lenient treatment, they factor corruption risk into their calculations rather than demanding systemic reform.
The Test Ahead
Chang’s early release petition will test whether American justice prioritises compassion for elderly defendants over accountability for catastrophic corruption. The Bureau of Prisons and potentially federal courts will weigh his age and circumstances against the magnitude of his betrayal.
But the real test extends beyond Chang himself. Mozambique’s finance minister from 2005 to 2015 was entrusted with lifting one of the world’s poorest nations from poverty. Instead, he pocketed bribes that triggered a financial crisis, currency collapse, and aid suspension that devastated millions. If American courts grant him early release after minimal additional prison time, they send an unmistakable message about the price of such betrayal: surprisingly affordable, especially if you survive long enough.
The people of Mozambique, still struggling with the hidden debt Chang helped create, will be watching closely. So will corrupt officials around the world, calculating their own risk-reward ratios. And so will those who believed that international cooperation against kleptocracy might finally make grand corruption too dangerous to attempt.
Chang’s potential early release would not merely be an act of compassion. It would be a statement about whose suffering matters more: the elderly defendant’s, or the millions who suffered from his crimes. In making that calculation, American courts will reveal whether justice transcends jurisdiction, or whether it remains, fundamentally, a privilege of citizenship and proximity.
Manuel Chang was sentenced to 102 months in January 2025 for his role in a fraud scheme that devastated Mozambique. With credit for time served, he could be released as early as 2027. His reported petition for early release would accelerate that timeline further, potentially allowing one of the architects of Africa’s largest corruption scandal to walk free after serving a fraction of his sentence.
