The centre didn’t just fall. It fell, shattered into pieces, and like any good Portuguese politician, immediately denied that anything happened. Portuguese democracy is fantastic: it never enters a crisis; it just catches a cold and keeps coughing on us.

Chega’s arrival wasn’t exactly a shock. It didn’t sprout up like a poisonous mushroom on a damp morning. Instead, it was more like a carefully prepared recipe by the PS and PSD over decades. For years, these parties made us believe they were playing a classic Benfica-Porto match, when in reality, it was always pre-season friendlies.

Privatisations of TAP, CTT, EDP? “Necessary.” Brutal salary and pension cuts during the troika? “No alternative.” Housing crisis driving families out of cities? “That’s the market working.” And then they wonder why the market works so well that it breeds monsters.

Meanwhile, our media became about as independent as a teenager living with their parents, and our judicial system delivers justice at the pace of an asthmatic turtle – just look at the Marquês Operation, possibly the world’s longest judicial process without visible consequences. It’s no wonder this toxic environment is the perfect fertiliser for populist parties like Chega to flourish – or perhaps “fester” would be more accurate.

Chega, in essence, isn’t the disease; it’s the symptom. André Ventura shouts against corruption while presenting candidates with so many judicial cases that the police have to work overtime just to keep track. Chega didn’t invent decadence; it just learned how to profit from it.

In the middle of this endless political miniseries, LIVRE shows up like a well-written character who hasn’t yet realised they’re on a reality show. It brings coherence, conviction, and a welcome breeze of modern politics. But if it wants to move from cameo to main cast, it needs to stop holding Ursula von der Leyen’s and António Costa’s umbrellas every time it rains and start building shelter with those who’ve been in the storm longer. That means knocking on the doors of Bloco and PCP — not to trade slogans, but to trade tools. And those two? They need to stop playing ideological chess in a burning building. The audience doesn’t care who has the white pieces. They want the fire put out. Rent is through the roof, hospitals are understaffed, and the Left is still deciding which font to use in the manifesto. It’s time to stop formatting and start rebuilding.

Let’s not forget that in the recent past the PS cleverly exploited the “geringonça” (the governing alliance between the PS, Bloco and PCP): taking credit for successes and blaming Bloco and the PCP for every failure. A strategy as predictable as train strikes or hospital queues.

The Left across Europe, once the proud author of big words like “freedom”, “emancipation” and “justice”, seems to have misplaced them somewhere between a panel discussion and a funding application. Now, it’s the far-right parading around with these words like they’re brand new, as if they just discovered freedom under a pile of conspiracy theories. Their version of “freedom” usually means the freedom to shout at cashiers and blame minorities for traffic. It’s about as sincere as a gym membership in January — full of noise at the start and mysteriously silent by February.

Meanwhile, the institutional Left has spent years narrowing its message until it fits neatly onto a reusable canvas tote bag. Identity matters. Of course it does. So do rights, recognition, and all the dignity that comes with them. But if the only message voters hear is about flags, pronouns, and committees on committees, while their electricity bill looks like a phone number, they might reasonably assume the Left no longer speaks to them — just about them.

And that’s the tragedy. People who once voted Left are now voting far-right, not because they’ve suddenly become allergic to equality, but because the Right is the only one bothering to knock on their door – even if it’s just to ask for someone to blame. These votes aren’t a glitch in the system. They’re a reaction to a Left that often sounds like it’s applying for a TED Talk instead of building a movement.

If the Left wants to win again — properly, not just politely — it needs to recover the words it lost. Not just “equity” and “inclusivity”, but “freedom”. The kind of freedom that means not being disposable. Freedom to turn on the heating without calculating how many hours you’ll have to work to pay for it. Freedom from landlords who treat people like ATMs and employers who think burnout is a productivity tool.

In short, freedom that means power. Collective power. Not just the power to correct injustice on a form — but to correct the system that keeps printing the forms.

Because while the far-right sells fantasy, and the centre sells resignation, the Left’s job — still — is to offer something better: reality, yes, but with dignity. And the courage to say it like it matters.

Voting for Chega doesn’t automatically make someone a fascist – sometimes they’re just angry, frustrated, or tired of voting for the same people. But remember, Chega offers simple solutions to complex problems – great in shampoo ads, disastrous in politics.

The solution isn’t merely saying “no” to Chega, but also rejecting the politics that made it appealing. We need a real democracy, returning power to people rather than elites. A democracy beyond election campaigns, TV commentators, and headlines.

Moreover, the public sector’s erosion, depicted as inevitable, needs challenging. Schools without heating, hospitals understaffed, and public transport in decay – these are not natural phenomena but results of political decisions. Every euro that is siphoned into privatisations and offshored accounts is one euro less for schools, hospitals, and public housing. Political apathy, therefore, isn’t just a personal failing but a rational response to decades of disillusionment.

To change this trajectory, political education must move beyond tired textbooks and ceremonial lessons about the Carnation Revolution. Young people must see politics as a genuine tool for change, not a corrupted system that benefits only the well-connected. True democracy education means empowering students, workers, and communities to engage politically beyond mere voting.

Finally, civil society must reclaim its place. Community movements, local associations, independent media, and activist groups aren’t fringe, they’re frontline. History shows that sustainable democratic change never comes from above; it always bubbles from below. When society is engaged and organised, democracy becomes resilient against authoritarian appeals.

So here’s a practical plan: say “no” to Chega, but also say “no” to those who created perfect conditions for it. Then, wake up early, grab a strong coffee (or two), organise in your community, mobilise collectively, and let’s rebuild this.

Because this time, getting it right really matters.

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