At Peniche Fortress, Ex-Political Prisoners Lend Weight to Filipe’s 2026 Bid

An echo of Portugal’s democratic struggle resonated across the Atlantic coast this weekend, as presidential hopeful António Filipe chose the former political prison of Peniche to begin his bid for Belém. The message was crystal-clear: his campaign, buoyed by ex-prisoners of the Estado Novo, intends to frame the 2026 race as a referendum on how the country remembers – and defends – its hard-won freedoms.

Key Points at a Glance

• Peniche Fortress served as the launchpad for Filipe’s run, underlining an anti-authoritarian narrative.

• A group of former political detainees endorsed the candidate, calling him “a safeguard against creeping revisionism.”

• Filipe accused rival Luís Marques Mendes of running as “the Government’s nominee.”

• The campaign trail will cover 11 districts, with rallies already locked in for Porto and Lisboa.

A Launch Heavy with Historical Meaning

The windswept cliffs of Peniche have witnessed everything from Roman salt pans to daring sea rescues, but for many Portuguese the site is synonymous with the dark decades of the Estado Novo. Between 1934 and 1974, the fort’s stone walls caged dissidents such as Álvaro Cunhal and Mário Soares. Converted in 2017 into the Museu Nacional Resistência e Liberdade, the complex now chronicles the road to the 25 April Revolution. Filipe, standing on the same courtyard where escapees once plotted freedom, told supporters that “some forces still try to whitewash fascism – we must remain vigilant.”

Voices from the Cells

One by one, elderly men and women stepped forward, reading fragments of diaries kept on cigarette paper or carved into bunk frames. Their memories of solitary confinement, hunger strikes and clandestine radio broadcasts punctuated the afternoon. For many younger voters in the audience – some clutching university notebooks rather than party flags – the testimonies offered a tangible reminder that democracy in Portugal is scarcely half a century old.

Filipe’s Roadmap to 24 January

Strategists for the independent-left candidate have mapped a brisk tour of the country:

Setúbal and Évora this week, visiting former shipyard cooperatives.

A three-day swing through the Beiras, focusing on rural health services.

Twin weekend rallies in Porto’s Aliados and Lisboa’s Terreiro do Paço, where the campaign expects crowds above 15 000.

Pollsters credit Filipe with a solid southern base but a steeper climb in the conservative Minho and Trás-os-Montes. His team hopes the Peniche spectacle will energise urban progressives and reclaim abstention-leaning voters who have felt “orphaned” since the economic shocks of the pandemic.

Why the Endorsement Matters

Portugal’s ex-political prisoners, now in their 70s and 80s, are neither numerous nor organised as a formal lobby, yet their moral stature is enormous. Political scientist Ana Isabel Costa notes that their public backing “transfers a symbolic mantle of legitimacy no party machine can replicate.” In televised debates, Filipe is expected to contrast the experience of those who fought dictatorship with what he brands the “accountant’s pragmatism” of Marques Mendes.

Early Ripples in the Capital

By Sunday night, the endorsement had already crept into Lisbon café talk and prime-time panels. Government ministers kept a low profile, but a senior figure in the PSD privately dismissed the Peniche event as “nostalgia politics.” Meanwhile, left-leaning civic groups flooded social networks with hashtags such as #NuncaMais (Never Again) and #MemóriaViva (Living Memory), urging first-time voters to register before the 15 January deadline.

Historical Precedent – and What’s Different Now

Portugal has seen former prisoners rise to power before, most famously Mário Soares. Yet organised, collective endorsements by such figures are rare. The Peniche launch therefore stands out both for its choreography and the absence of traditional party emblems. “This is less about ideological purity and more about guarding democratic norms,” argues historian Rui Carreiro. He adds that, unlike the mass rallies of the 1970s, the 2026 field is fragmented, forcing candidates to seek moral capital wherever they can.

What Comes Next?

All eyes turn to Setúbal on Tuesday, where shipyard unions – another symbol-laden constituency – will host Filipe for a shift-change walkabout. Marques Mendes, for his part, is slated to unveil an economic blueprint in Braga. Whether the Peniche moment becomes a mere footnote or a pivot point depends on how effectively Filipe converts resistance lore into votes. This year’s ballot does not only choose a president; it measures the nation’s willingness to keep the memory of authoritarianism firmly in the past.