The 2025 legislative elections have laid bare a phenomenon echoing across Western democracies: the waning influence of centrist parties, long considered bastions of democratic stability, yet seemingly detached from profound societal transformations. The election results paint a stark picture. The Democratic Alliance, a coalition of the Social Democratic Party (PSD) and the CDS, People’s Party, secured a decisive victory, while the Socialist Party (PS) suffered a historic defeat. The traditional left, represented by the Left Bloc and the Portuguese Communist Party, continued its decline. While the far-right Chega has surged to become the second largest political force and main opposition party. This dramatic shift would have been inconceivable just two years prior.
The events unfolding in Portugal are not merely a radicalisation of the electorate. Rather, they are the almost predictable consequence of an economic system that has ceased to serve the majority, yet remains staunchly defended by those who have managed it for decades. Portugal is not alone in this predicament. Across numerous governments today, the post-Cold War neoliberal model, once promising prosperity and material well-being, but delivering only minimal social rights, is failing to meet contemporary demands. Trust in the system has collapsed under the weight of its unfulfilled promises. The social contract lies profoundly broken.
Without resorting to sweeping generalisations, it is clear that this is a structural problem. The current economic order is a system in transition, not in a moral sense, but in a historical one. It sows the seeds of its own demise by exacerbating inequality, eroding community bonds, and commodifying all aspects of life. As this collapse begins to materialise, two paths diverge: one of social transformation rooted in class solidarity, and another of reactionary regression fuelled by resentment. In Portugal, this is where Chega has found its foothold.
Chega is not an anomaly within the system, but rather a logical byproduct of a model that has bred frustration, insecurity, and depoliticisation. The party’s strategy, while clear to some, is not novel: it capitalises on economic frustration, transforming it into a culture war. It substitutes justice with revenge, dialogue with vitriol, and politics with spectacle. It offers no solutions, only scapegoats. While directing blame towards migrants, minorities, and the so-called “woke,” it leaves untouched the structures that concentrate wealth and protect those who have profited from others’ precarity.
This narrative thrives because the public sphere has long been dominated by centrist parties that, while professing progress and fairness, systematically avoided any genuine confrontation with power structures, focusing instead on short-term electoral gains. If Chega represents a tangible threat, the centrism of PS and PSD is not without culpability. They were the architects of austerity, liberalised the rental market, privatised strategic sectors, weakened labour protections, and sold citizenship to foreign capital.
Now, confronted with the consequences, they attempt to peddle moderation as a virtue.
However, a more rigorous analysis is imperative. Reducing all Chega voters to unwitting victims of an unjust system is a miscalculation. While some vote out of desperation, others do so out of conviction. Those who normalise hate speech do not do so simply because they are aggrieved about their electricity bills. To suggest otherwise is condescending.
It must also be stated, unequivocally, that the institutional left has failed to propose a viable alternative. When the only response to inequality is managing the status quo, the collective imagination is left vulnerable to those who promise to “restore” a past that never truly existed.
This is not a call for vague appeals to stability. What is required is a response that is not merely moral or institutional, but material. There is a need for a profound reconstruction of the social contract: securing access to housing as a right, not an asset; restoring the state’s role as a guarantor of social justice; implementing realistic taxation on the concentration and accumulation of wealth; and, above all, redistributing economic and political power to those who have been systematically marginalised.
This demands more than institutional gestures or parliamentary alliances. It requires a fundamental shift in priorities. It means acknowledging that stability without fairness is nothing more than an illusion. And that democracy requires more than elections; it requires dignity. The crisis we are experiencing is neither unique to Portugal, nor is it recent. Confronting it will require more than rejecting hatred; it will demand the courage to confront the forces that nurture it.
Portugal stands at a critical juncture. It must either rebuild a pact with those who live by their labour, or it will continue to witness the ascent of those who exploit despair with empty promises.
Emanuel Ferreira is a political communications strategist based in Brussels and the Communication and Campaigns Manager at the European Movement International. He specialises in EU affairs and strategic public engagement, shaping narratives at the intersection of policy, advocacy, and media.
