The 10 March elections have revolutionised the Portuguese political landscape, consecrating the end of the Left’s majority. They were also a great success for André Ventura’s Chega party, which won around 1.2 million popular votes and elected 50 deputies. This national-conservative party was the big winner of the day, having gone from 70,000 votes to 1.2 million in only five years. It was also a victory when compared to the other major parties. The Socialist Party (PS) and the Social Democratic Party (PSD)—with 78 and 80 MPs respectively—experienced a significant loss of voter support.
The rise of Chega is truly impressive. The party, founded on 9 April 2019, began with only one seat in parliament. Five years later, it has 50 MPs. In order to contest these elections, the PSD created a liberal right-wing front that could simultaneously defeat the Socialists and confront the expansion of Chega. They did so by resurrecting the AD coalition, formed in 1980 by the PSD, the CDS (Social Democratic Centre), and the PPM (Popular Democratic Party). The practical idea of this coalition was both to appeal to centre-right voters and to block Chega by occupying the political centre.
The resurrected coalition had modest results: on the Left, it opposed a Socialist party that, having been in power for eight years, had been hit by a succession of scandals, the latest of which was the corruption of Prime Minister António Costa’s chief of staff. On the Right, the coalition wanted to combat Chega, described as “populist” and therefore dangerous for democracy.
The election on 10 March concluded with the Chega party winning by a wide margin, despite the strong and universal opposition of journalists and commentators. Instead of reflecting on the outcome or attempting to explain the data to the general public, the media sought instead to abandon journalist principles and take sides in the ‘anti-fascist’ struggle by describing the popular vote for right-wing parties as an aberration.
Why did the progressive media impose on the AD—with the support of the Left—a ban on any coalition or alliance with the Chega nationalists? Chega’s leader, André Ventura, offered such an option both before and after the elections. Even with the support of the eight Liberal Initiative MPs, AD’s 80 seats are a long way from the majority of 116 seats in the Portuguese parliament
This situation ended in farce during a very busy session, with serious consequences for the entire legislature. The leaders of the caucuses negotiated an understanding that, for the election of the president and vice presidents of parliament, they would cross votes. One of these negotiations was between the leaders of the AD and Chega benches. But afterwards, two important representatives of AD—Paulo Rangel, minister of foreign affairs and Nuno Melo, minister of defence in the new government—denied that there had been any agreement with Chega. What had been a minor semantic issue (the difference between an understanding and an agreement) turned into a political dispute. Chega MPs—along with MPs from other parties—chose not to vote for Aguiar Branco, who had been nominated as the PSD’s candidate for president of parliament. Ventura explained his own non-vote with a public denial of this understanding.
In the ensuing controversy, the PSD, realising that it couldn’t get Chega’s support, resorted to an agreement with the Socialist Party, negotiating two years of presidency for Aguiar Branco and another two for a Socialist, Francisco Assis. With this understanding of dubious constitutionality, the PSD sealed a pact with the Socialist party after a campaign that had been designed to remove the Socialists from power.
This first pact ended up supporting Chega’s accusation that the Socialists are closer to the Left than to the Right. With the state bureaucracy’s key positions filled by the Socialists, with the media class at the service of the Left, and with its dependence on the support of the PS in Parliament, it will be very difficult for Luís Montenegro’s government—a mixture of party loyalists and technocrats—to carry out the reforms expected by the majority of the Portuguese. On 10 March, they voted for the centre-right, Right, Chega, AD, and the Liberal Initiative, giving them a large parliamentary majority of 138 out of 230. But the voters won’t repeat their mistake the next time around, and Chega will continue to grow among abstentionists and disillusioned centre-right voters.
Since the election in March, the votes in the Portuguese parliament have revealed the instability of the system, with the government finding it increasingly difficult to push through some of its measures, vetoed either by the Right or the Left. In addition to the commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the military coup d’état of April 1974, another issue has made the front page of the Portuguese media. On April 24, at a dinner with foreign journalists in Portugal, President Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa recklessly addressed the issue of compensation from European states to their former colonial territories as reparation for abuses committed against local populations.
In general, and apart from the radical Left, which has made incidental reference to the issue through post-colonial studies, no one, either in Portugal or in the former colonies, had ever raised this issue before. Therefore, across the party spectrum, in government and in public opinion, the reactions were of great astonishment and unease, with some commentators even raising doubts about the state of the president’s mental health.
By cavalierly raising a controversial topic—especially in the Portuguese case with its five centuries of overseas empire, miscegenation, and shared history—Rebelo de Sousa seemed to be encouraging the representatives of the Portuguese-speaking African countries (PALOP), Brazil, and Timor to ask for reparations and create tension with Lisbon.
The Chega party, led by André Ventura, reacted vehemently to the president’s statements, accusing him of treason and calling for his impeachment. This was clearly an overreaction, and all the parties in parliament voted against Chega’s proposal. But the truth is that this presidential gesture will have negative consequences for Portugal and its relations with Portuguese-speaking countries, creating a new conflict where one didn’t exist before. Some commentators think that, having been faced with a clear drop in popularity, Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa wanted to divert attention by taking a controversial stance on a position that would be well regarded by the Left. Whether this cynical manoeuvre has backfired remains to be seen.
Centre-Right Prefers Socialists to Chega
CHEGA leader Andre Ventura addresses supporters at an election night event in Lisbon on March 10, 2024
Andre Dias Nobre / AFP
The 10 March elections have revolutionised the Portuguese political landscape, consecrating the end of the Left’s majority. They were also a great success for André Ventura’s Chega party, which won around 1.2 million popular votes and elected 50 deputies. This national-conservative party was the big winner of the day, having gone from 70,000 votes to 1.2 million in only five years. It was also a victory when compared to the other major parties. The Socialist Party (PS) and the Social Democratic Party (PSD)—with 78 and 80 MPs respectively—experienced a significant loss of voter support.
The rise of Chega is truly impressive. The party, founded on 9 April 2019, began with only one seat in parliament. Five years later, it has 50 MPs. In order to contest these elections, the PSD created a liberal right-wing front that could simultaneously defeat the Socialists and confront the expansion of Chega. They did so by resurrecting the AD coalition, formed in 1980 by the PSD, the CDS (Social Democratic Centre), and the PPM (Popular Democratic Party). The practical idea of this coalition was both to appeal to centre-right voters and to block Chega by occupying the political centre.
The resurrected coalition had modest results: on the Left, it opposed a Socialist party that, having been in power for eight years, had been hit by a succession of scandals, the latest of which was the corruption of Prime Minister António Costa’s chief of staff. On the Right, the coalition wanted to combat Chega, described as “populist” and therefore dangerous for democracy.
The election on 10 March concluded with the Chega party winning by a wide margin, despite the strong and universal opposition of journalists and commentators. Instead of reflecting on the outcome or attempting to explain the data to the general public, the media sought instead to abandon journalist principles and take sides in the ‘anti-fascist’ struggle by describing the popular vote for right-wing parties as an aberration.
Why did the progressive media impose on the AD—with the support of the Left—a ban on any coalition or alliance with the Chega nationalists? Chega’s leader, André Ventura, offered such an option both before and after the elections. Even with the support of the eight Liberal Initiative MPs, AD’s 80 seats are a long way from the majority of 116 seats in the Portuguese parliament
This situation ended in farce during a very busy session, with serious consequences for the entire legislature. The leaders of the caucuses negotiated an understanding that, for the election of the president and vice presidents of parliament, they would cross votes. One of these negotiations was between the leaders of the AD and Chega benches. But afterwards, two important representatives of AD—Paulo Rangel, minister of foreign affairs and Nuno Melo, minister of defence in the new government—denied that there had been any agreement with Chega. What had been a minor semantic issue (the difference between an understanding and an agreement) turned into a political dispute. Chega MPs—along with MPs from other parties—chose not to vote for Aguiar Branco, who had been nominated as the PSD’s candidate for president of parliament. Ventura explained his own non-vote with a public denial of this understanding.
In the ensuing controversy, the PSD, realising that it couldn’t get Chega’s support, resorted to an agreement with the Socialist Party, negotiating two years of presidency for Aguiar Branco and another two for a Socialist, Francisco Assis. With this understanding of dubious constitutionality, the PSD sealed a pact with the Socialist party after a campaign that had been designed to remove the Socialists from power.
This first pact ended up supporting Chega’s accusation that the Socialists are closer to the Left than to the Right. With the state bureaucracy’s key positions filled by the Socialists, with the media class at the service of the Left, and with its dependence on the support of the PS in Parliament, it will be very difficult for Luís Montenegro’s government—a mixture of party loyalists and technocrats—to carry out the reforms expected by the majority of the Portuguese. On 10 March, they voted for the centre-right, Right, Chega, AD, and the Liberal Initiative, giving them a large parliamentary majority of 138 out of 230. But the voters won’t repeat their mistake the next time around, and Chega will continue to grow among abstentionists and disillusioned centre-right voters.
Since the election in March, the votes in the Portuguese parliament have revealed the instability of the system, with the government finding it increasingly difficult to push through some of its measures, vetoed either by the Right or the Left. In addition to the commemoration of the 50th anniversary of the military coup d’état of April 1974, another issue has made the front page of the Portuguese media. On April 24, at a dinner with foreign journalists in Portugal, President Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa recklessly addressed the issue of compensation from European states to their former colonial territories as reparation for abuses committed against local populations.
In general, and apart from the radical Left, which has made incidental reference to the issue through post-colonial studies, no one, either in Portugal or in the former colonies, had ever raised this issue before. Therefore, across the party spectrum, in government and in public opinion, the reactions were of great astonishment and unease, with some commentators even raising doubts about the state of the president’s mental health.
By cavalierly raising a controversial topic—especially in the Portuguese case with its five centuries of overseas empire, miscegenation, and shared history—Rebelo de Sousa seemed to be encouraging the representatives of the Portuguese-speaking African countries (PALOP), Brazil, and Timor to ask for reparations and create tension with Lisbon.
The Chega party, led by André Ventura, reacted vehemently to the president’s statements, accusing him of treason and calling for his impeachment. This was clearly an overreaction, and all the parties in parliament voted against Chega’s proposal. But the truth is that this presidential gesture will have negative consequences for Portugal and its relations with Portuguese-speaking countries, creating a new conflict where one didn’t exist before. Some commentators think that, having been faced with a clear drop in popularity, Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa wanted to divert attention by taking a controversial stance on a position that would be well regarded by the Left. Whether this cynical manoeuvre has backfired remains to be seen.
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