As the far-right Chega party gains ground in Portugal, its reliance on the votes of Brazilian immigrants highlights a paradox of political identity, nationalism, and immigration policies.
By Analú Bailosa
Edited by Nikita Jain
Following the trend of Europe for electing far-right governments, the Portuguese Chega party elected two MEPs in the last European elections. A few months earlier, in the race for the national parliament, it won 50 mandates — 38 more than in 2022 — one of them for the first Brazilian member of the Assembly of the Republic. Although the result simulates an advance for social representation in politics, the characteristic anti-immigration discourse still persists in the Rio de Janeiro-born politician’s social networks and actually reflects a complex phenomenon.
The Treaty of Friendship, Cooperation and Consultation between Brazil and Portugal, signed 24 years ago, guarantees political rights to Brazilian immigrants who have the Statute of Equal Rights and Duties and legal residence in the country for more than three years. This allows them to participate in elections as voters and candidates.
According to a report published by the Agency for Integration, Migration and Asylum (AIMA), there were 368,000 documented Brazilian residents by the end of 2023. This figure refers to 35.3% of legalised foreigners and keeps Brazil as the largest immigrant community in Portugal, a position it has held since 2007.
However, only 478 Brazilians met the requirements to vote in last March’s legislative elections, according to the data from the Ministry of Administration.
This total does not include Portuguese-Brazilian citizens: more than 419,000 naturalisation processes were completed between 2010 and 2022, says the Ministry of Justice and the extinct Foreigners and Borders Service (SEF).“I’m a Brazilian living in Portugal, and I still voted for Chega so that Ventura [the party’s leader] can deport these f**ks”, writes a party supporter on X.
“Until 2019, the people who came from Brazil had a different profile. People who wanted peace, safety and respect. In recent years, I’ve lived in rooms and hostels. The number of drug dealers and murderers I met who were not ashamed to talk about it was frightening,” a user replies in agreement.
The contradiction raises a logical question: What makes an immigrant of any generation approve of a party that organises acts of protest against immigration, contributing to the trivialisation of stereotypes of nationality, including their own? In the Brazil/Portugal case, experts interviewed for Migrant Women Press said values linked to religion have a major influence on this positioning and intersect with understandings of class and race.
The contradiction raises a logical question: What makes an immigrant of any generation approve of a party that organises acts of protest against immigration, contributing to the trivialisation of stereotypes of nationality, including their own?
Bolsonarism doesn’t weigh down the luggage
For Vinícius Vieira, a researcher and professor of International Relations at the Fundação Armando Alvares Penteado (FAAP) in São Paulo, the phenomenon has different possible explanations, depending on the background of each individual.
Nationalism, however, is the common thread between them, which are interconnected. In the case of Brazilian immigrants or those who have been naturalised due to being residents for more than five years, an “ambition to belong to the nation” may take place, to the point of even breaking ties with their culture of origin. Hopes of being part of a “symbol of a more advanced Europe, superior to the rest of the world” then take over political choices.
From the point of view of Portuguese-Brazilians by consanguinity, it is likely that they bring along conservative values already defended before immigrating. Except for situations in which, due to family heritage and greater proximity to the historical context of their ancestors, they know the implications of Salazarism — a fascist regime overthrown by the Carnation Revolution 50 years ago — in Portugal, a “nostalgia for the dictatorship” is replicated.
“Bolsonaro supporters have a very strong discourse [which argues that] dictatorship times were better; we didn’t have violence. What is equivalent to the defence of Salazarism in Portugal today? Clearly, Chega,” Vieira states.
The votes collected in Brazil gave Chega victory in this year’s legislative and European elections, a fact that solidifies this theory. In the legislative elections, held in March 2024, the vote count is divided by the Ministry of Internal Affairs between the consulate in São Paulo and those located in the rest of the country. Such data reveal that Chega had a growth of 279% and 363%, respectively.
“Within Brazil, [there is] a very strong prejudice against people from other regions [of the country]. People from São Paulo see themselves as descendants of Europeans: ‘oh, I eat Italian food, I eat Portuguese food, in honour of my ancestors’, there’s a lot of that discourse. […] In fact, I don’t think that Chega has agendas that will satisfy our interests, so this analogy between Bolsonarism and the agenda, especially of Chega’s leader, André Ventura, is much more about identity than interest”, concludes the professor while talking about the consequences of “defending Brazil via Bolsonaro”.
Jonas Vossole, a researcher at the Centre for Social Studies (CES) of the University of Coimbra, complements the argument based on class and race. “If we analyse the role that different [Brazilian] businessmen have played in mobilising votes for Chega, [we conclude] that it’s a community that is obviously from the upper middle class and upper class […], it has that elitist attitude, that puts other people down, so it is against the other immigrants who also want to represent this Portuguese nationality, it has a racist perspective”, he says.
“Within Brazil, [there is] a very strong prejudice against people from other regions [of the country]. People from São Paulo see themselves as descendants of Europeans: ‘oh, I eat Italian food, I eat Portuguese food, in honour of my ancestors’, there’s a lot of that discourse.
In his opinion, it is this elite that emigrates because they “supposedly ran from PT [Brazil’s Workers’ Party] and came in search of a safer place or because they have prospects of being European”.
On the other hand, he argues, the community of Brazilian economic immigrants, “who come here in search of a better future, who are working in the service sector, in tourism, etc,” is more precarious and has fewer rights. Since, as a working class, they are “in the worst positions and most vulnerable to racist discourse and the exclusion of rights”, they vote much less on the far right.
Identity populism and the politicisation of the sacred
Isabel Cunha, a researcher at the NOVA Institute of Communication (ICNOVA) in Lisbon and founder of the 21st Century Populism Observatory project, avoids stigmatising Brazilian evangelicals and linking the increase in immigration of Brazilians to Portugal with the growth of the far right.
Still, she believes the politicisation of the sacred perpetuated by recent evangelical churches is a key factor in the contradictory scenario.
This interference differs from the old evangelical churches, founded between the 19th and 20th centuries, persecuted by the dictatorship until the 1974 revolution.
The researcher explains that they “have always distanced themselves [from politics] and claim today that they do not promote any politicisation within their midst”.
In the last elections, she continues, “[recent evangelical churches] have begun to play an active role and are positioning themselves to have a bench linked to the Bible, as there is in Brazil”.
A comparison between the latest Portuguese Censuses shows the growth of the Protestant/Evangelical religion in the country: the number of people aged 15 and over who identified as practisers rose from 0.9% in 2011 to 2.1% in 2021.
A report by the Portuguese Evangelical Alliance confirms the trend, since 44.6% of the total number of churches emerged between 2001 and 2022 and 6.5% only during 2021 and 2022. The same study reveals that the most represented foreign nationality in churches is Brazilian (81.6%) and that 61.3% of churchgoers who arrived in the last three years came from Brazil.
“Clearly, in the older churches, the percentage of Portuguese in attendance is higher. As we look at the more recently founded churches, the percentage of Portuguese indicated decreases”, the document reads. “These churches are much younger and have much higher tithing participation. On the other hand, they are associated with churches that Brazil knows very well, such as the Universal Church of the Kingdom of God, the Victory in Christ Assembly of God, the World Church of God’s Power, and so on — with bishops who are very well known in Brazil and most of whom supported Bolsonaro”, analyses Isabel Cunha.
The statement “I’ve been an immigrant here in Portugal for 7 years, but I’m legal, and I voted for Chega”, also taken from X, reflects the populist strategy that divides immigrants into “good” and “bad” ones.
Associations of this kind are only part of the similarities that the expert identifies between religious conservatism and populism. The crossover also occurs because of the existence of “a charismatic leader and because there is always an ‘other’”, she observes, in reference to the pastorate. Furthermore, while the immigrant can be an “other” for the national citizen, traditional values unite as “good people” and “chosen beings”, those who have not “been caught by the ‘devil’”, conditioning the meaning of enemy.
The statement “I’ve been an immigrant here in Portugal for 7 years, but I’m legal, and I voted for Chega”, also taken from X, reflects the populist strategy that divides immigrants into “good” and “bad” ones.
Jonas Vossole exemplifies what the far right classifies as a good economic immigrant: “well-qualified and able to contribute to the national economy”, as opposed to the bad one, who would be “a poor immigrant, a victim of hunger or opposing regimes, etc., who is no longer well integrated”. However, the researcher warns that this perspective is widespread among the Portuguese population and even on the left. “There’s a moralistic perspective on the immigrant who is good because he does some necessary task for this society, instead of having a perspective of equal rights for all citizens who want to have them”, he criticises.
Amanda Lima is a reporter for the Portuguese publication Diário de Notícias and, since June, the editor-in-chief of the newspaper’s new website and magazine, DN Brasil, with information for the Brazilian community living in Portugal and other immigrants.
In her opinion, it is important to understand the often relative concept of integration. “A person who doesn’t do anything wrong, who abides by the law, who works, who continues to follow their religion — there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s not disrespectful to the local culture”, she says, emphasising that the individual’s country of origin makes a difference. “All the countries on the Asian side, in the Middle East, are [seen as] enemies. This segregation makes some Brazilian immigrants feel, let’s say, [like] ‘the special ones’, especially if the person is white”, she points out.
Comments that rely on one’s length of residence as an argument for supposed superiority underline the need for rupture mentioned by Vinícius Vieira. Instead of maintaining the identity and political narrative of multiculturalism, which is “clearly in decline”, he says, it is preferable, from their perspective, to remain culturally and politically apart from their own representatives. “I want to be integrated, but, interestingly, by preventing the entry of more immigrants, because I’m a good immigrant, I work, I contribute, and I don’t have negative attributes”, he describes the thought.
Tokenism versus representativeness
When not othered, the foreign community becomes useful for the rhetoric of parties constantly confronted with their radical statements. This is the practice of tokenism, says the Brazilian researcher, a strategy that extremists “like to use to appease their image among the electorate—not necessarily the electorate of [social] minorities, but the more centrist mainstream electorate” to contradict accusations of racism and xenophobia.
The term means “something that a person or organisation does that seems to support or help a group of people who are treated unfairly in society, such as giving a member of that group an important or public position, but which is not meant to make changes that would help that group of people in a lasting way”, according to the Cambridge Dictionary. “It’s important to say that a [social] minority doesn’t necessarily have to be left-wing, I think we also need to combat this stereotype”, Vinícius Vieira explains why strategies like this have an effect. In our interview, he mentions examples such as former UK Prime Minister Rishi Sunak, a member of the Conservative Party with his Indian origin, and French MEP Jordan Bardella, who has Algerian roots and is also president of the Rassemblement National, Marine Le Pen’s party.
From the point of view of Marcela Uchôa, PhD in Political Philosophy from the University of Coimbra and researcher at the Institute for Philosophical Studies (IEF), at the same institution, the practice conveys that, in the history of world politics, “there would be no oppression if it weren’t for the collaboration of the oppressed”. This contribution results from a process of alienation, she continues, in which people “don’t want to transform the world and life conditions for everyone, they want to be in the place of power”. The same applies to feminism — the movement, the researcher reminds us, is not about agreeing with all women. “A political perspective encompasses social rights that will benefit women in general, especially the most oppressed ones, while certain debates are for minorities — quantitative, not social — who already have power and want to impose their agenda on the majority of the population”, she argues.
Tokenism works, points out journalist Amanda Lima, since Chega is the only party in Portugal with black and foreigners members of the parliament. “They easily defeat, let’s say, the discourse of any party, whether it’s centrist, from the moderate right or — especially — the left, by saying ‘you say you’re in favour of the inclusion of immigrants and against fascism, but we’re the ones who have immigrants and black people elected’”, she says. The solution lies in information; she says: “We have to analyse not only the speeches but also the proposals, the bills. […] When it comes to voting, [they support] bills that are against immigrants, there’s no doubt about that”.
“I, in Chega, can combat that kind of xenophobic spirit”
Portuguese-Brazilian Ricardo Horta has lived in Portugal since 2020, is a delegate for Chega and claims that the party’s complaints against immigration are more related to countries that don’t have “Portuguese culture in fact, no cultural ties, no roots, nothing to do with Portugal and it’s just this bunch of people coming here”. Brazilian immigrants, therefore, are not a problem, in the 52-year-old lawyer’s opinion. Son and grandson of Portuguese, he believes that Portuguese people are “victims in their own country”, a result of cultural conflict and disrespect from immigrants who “don’t share the same idea of being Portuguese”. As for immigration in the European community, the party member believes that it has to be organised and “seek out labour that we don’t have in Portugal”.
“It’s hypocritical, it’s a lie to say that Chega doesn’t give opportunities to immigrants, it’s a big misconception”, he adds, using himself as an example. “I, in Chega, can combat this kind of xenophobic spirit. My blood is 100% Portuguese, my father and mother are Portuguese, I have more roots in Portugal than in Brazil, and just because of my accent, I’m discriminated against. […] It’s not because I speak like a Brazilian that I want to destroy Portugal, to see Portugal in crisis, with violence, with attacks, with unemployed people on the streets starving. […] I want to defend my country, regardless of my accent”, he concludes.
An Action Plan for Migration was presented at the beginning of June by the right-wing government elected in March’s legislative elections in defence of a “regulated and supervised immigration, accompanied by a humanist integration”, reads an official statement. Criticised by the left and considered not very inclusive by researcher Isabel Cunha, the document is still “loose, poorly formed and not very effective”, according to André Ventura. In August, the leader of Chega suggested a referendum on immigration — aiming the establishment of an annual limit of immigrants in the country, to be reviewed annually, and quotas previously framed by areas of specialisation and needs of the economy for the entry of immigrants into Portugal.
Feature image by Dragon Claws, available on iStock
This article is a collaboration between Migrant Women Press and Aborda.pt the first feminist journalism platform in Portugal, founded in April 2022. They value the collaborative work among women and aim to promote a safe learning space for young journalists.
Analú Bailosa is a Portuguese-Brazilian journalist based in Coimbra. Founding editor of Aborda.pt, the first feminist journalism platform in Portugal.
