Portugal just did it again.
On May 18, 2025, the country held its third general election in three years. At this point, Portuguese voters might as well ask for a loyalty card, like “vote five times, get a functioning government free.”
Once again, the Democratic Alliance (AD) came out on top—but not enough to govern alone. Prime Minister Luís Montenegro and his center-right coalition managed to win the most votes, but fell short of a majority.
Chega, the so-called “far-right” party led by André Ventura, hit a historic milestone: 22.6 percent of the vote and 58 seats — tying with the Socialist Party (PS), which just two years ago had a comfortable majority and governed alone.
The PS? Not so lucky this time. The once-dominant party that ruled Portugal for almost a decade from 2015 to 2024, with António Costaat the helm, saw a dramatic fall from grace. In 2022, they had 120 seats. Now? A mere 58 seats and a harsh reality check from the voters.
Let’s talk about the real vote-shifter here: migration.
Portugal has seen a sharp rise in its immigrant population since 2018. That’s no secret. But instead of tackling growing concerns about housing shortages, strained public services, and cultural friction, the PS stuck to its open-arms policy, hoping the problem would solve itself (spoiler alert: it didn’t).
Voters noticed. And many weren’t thrilled.
Enter Chega and AD—the only parties that actually talked about the problem.
While some shouted “xenophobia,” many ordinary voters just heard, “finally, someone is paying attention and trying to make some order.”
In the final days of the campaign, AD announced plans to expel 18,000 undocumented migrants. Some called it populist. Others called it “about time”. Either way, it worked. AD held its ground, and Chega didn’t become the largest party. Yet.
Here’s where things get awkward.
Despite Chega winning nearly a quarter of the vote, mainstream parties still treat them like political lepers. Everyone loves democracy, at least until the “good side” wins.
Refusing to work with Chega because they’re “too extreme” might make for good headlines in Brussels, but ignoring a massive chunk of the electorate isn’t exactly a winning strategy. It’s like putting a “check engine” light on your car and deciding the best course of action is duct tape over the dashboard.
Portugal’s not alone. Germany’s doing something similar with the AfD. Except, over there, domestic intelligence services have even branded them a threat, which makes things extra spicy.
At least Portugal hasn’t gone full James Bond on Chega—yet.
Let’s face it—Portuguese politics are a bit of a mess.
Nobody has a majority.
Coalitions break faster than cheap coffee mugs. The last government? A minority, which collapsed. The next one? Probably the same. The result is a vicious cycle: voters are frustrated, governments don’t last, and another election pops up before anyone can finish reading the last coalition agreement.
Refusing to acknowledge Chega’s voter base only adds fuel to the fire. People are tuning out. Others are tuning in—to Chega, because at least they’re saying something different.
And all this is happening while Europe is dishing out record levels of economic funding, trying to reboot the post-COVID economy. Portugal should be cashing in on this. Instead, it’s stuck in political limbo, too distracted by internal squabbles to focus on long-term planning.
Here’s the big European paradox: populist parties are rising everywhere—France, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands. The public keeps voting for them. And what do traditional elites do? Slap a label on them, call them extremists, and carry on like nothing’s happening.
But voters aren’t stupid. They know when they’re being ignored. And they’re not just expressing frustration anymore—they’re changing the game.
How long can the mainstream keep sticking their heads in the sand, ostrich-style, pretending parties like Chega don’t belong at the grown-up table?
This election was not a fluke. It was a megaphone.
Portuguese voters sent a loud, clear message: “We’re tired of being ignored.”
Chega has grown from 17 percent to 23 percent in one year (it’s the more impressive if we consider that it was at 7 percent in 2022).
If traditional parties want to survive, they need to stop acting like confused parents trying to explain TikTok—they need to understand what matters to real people now, not in 1995. That means talking about migration, economic insecurity, housing, and national identity without reaching for the panic button.
Yes, labels like “far-right” might make Brussels happy. But they don’t help a nurse trying to pay rent in Lisbon, or a mechanic who sees wages stagnating while his neighborhood changes overnight.
It’s time to face reality: democracy means dealing with the parties people actually vote for. Not just the ones you like.
At this rate, Portugal could easily have another election before your next vacation plans. And if the cycle of chaos continues, it shouldn’t be surprising, if Chega would finally get the majority— due to sheer voter exhaustion.
The May 18 vote wasn’t just about Portugal. It’s a sign of what’s bubbling across Europe. The political elites can either adapt—or keep watching as voters adapt for them.
