Ventura's 'Three Salazars' Remark Tests Portugal's Democratic Resolve

The latest clash around André Ventura may sound like yet another skirmish in Lisbon’s political arena, yet it strikes at the heart of how Portugal wants to remember its past and shape its future. By calling for “three Salazars” to bring the country back into line just days after the 50th anniversary of the Carnation Revolution, the Chega leader has reignited dormant fears of authoritarian nostalgia, drawn swift condemnation from across the spectrum and forced voters to consider what they truly expect from democracy in 2025.

A Remark Tailored for Shock Value – and Heard Around the Country

Ventura delivered the controversial line on 24 October during a tense afternoon debate in São Bento. Framing himself as the antidote to what he called “bandalheira e impunidade”, he declared that Portugal would only recover with “three Salazars putting the house in order”. The reference to António de Oliveira Salazar – who ruled through censorship, political police and forced exile until 1974 – instantly electrified the room. Deputies from right to left interrupted with heckles; journalists posted clips within minutes; social media lit up with memes juxtaposing Ventura’s portrait alongside the dictator’s austere profile.

Parliament Punches Back: Rare Unity Across Party Lines

The backlash arrived swiftly and, for once, almost unanimously. Prime Minister Luís Montenegro, mindful of the centre-right’s fragile coalition, reminded the chamber that “dictatorship is corruption itself”, rejecting the notion that a strongman cleans up graft. PSD parliamentary leader Hugo Soares added that under any Salazar-style regime, Ventura “wouldn’t even enjoy the liberty to utter such words”. From the centre-left, presidential hopeful António José Seguro labelled the remarks “unacceptable” and warned that extremist rhetoric threatens the very democracy Salazar suppressed. Even traditionally restrained voices such as Luís Marques Mendes predicted Ventura will “never be President of Portugal” while cautioning against court actions that could feed Chega’s victim narrative. In a sign of how deeply the remark cut, retired admiral Henrique Gouveia e Melo invoked the Armed Forces Movement that toppled Salazar’s successor, stressing that the military “did not risk their lives in ’74 so we could applaud a return to that past”.

April’s Lingering Fault Line Widens

Just six months earlier, the 50-year commemorations of the Carnation Revolution exposed Chega’s ideological chasm with the rest of parliament. Ventura’s deputies abandoned the chamber after the official session, accusing the establishment of weaponising history and apologising too readily for colonial abuses. The new Salazar reference now cements that rupture, transforming what some deemed mere iconoclasm into an explicit repudiation of April’s democratic legacy. Analysts note that Chega’s rise has thrived on questioning post-’74 consensus—yet invoking the dictator by name pushes the tactic to its most provocative extreme.

Legal and Historical Red Lines According to the Experts

Constitutional scholars such as Vitalino Canas warn that glorifying an authoritarian symbol sits uncomfortably with a Basic Law designed precisely to avoid any backsliding. Canas points to campaign posters—“Os ciganos têm de cumprir a lei”, “Isto não é o Bangladesh”—as evidence that Chega’s messaging edges toward discrimination incompatible with Articles 13 and 46 of the Constitution. Historians add further context: authoritarian nostalgia often flourishes when citizens perceive corruption as endemic and institutions as weak. Yet they counter Ventura’s premise by recalling that the Salazar regime itself was riddled with favouritism, colonial profiteering and opaque finances. In short, strong-arm rule rarely equals clean governance.

The Roots — and Risks — of Salazar Nostalgia

Poll after poll shows trust in political institutions hovering near historic lows, making any promise of “order” tempting to voters exhausted by scandals from BES to TAP. Sociologists describe a yearning for “rigor and decency” that the public wrongly associates with dictatorial discipline. Chega taps this mood, critics argue, by offering the symbolism of iron-fisted leadership without mentioning censorship or PIDE dungeons. The danger, says political scientist Marina Costa Lobo, is normalising authoritarian references until they feel like a viable governing option rather than a rhetorical stunt.

What the Early Numbers Indicate – And What They Don’t

Because Ventura spoke barely a week ago, most polling agencies have not yet isolated the impact of the “three Salazars” remark. An Intercampus survey released on 29 October shows Chega at 22.9 %, up roughly two points since mid-month, though researchers caution against tying the bump directly to the controversy. Earlier trends already pointed to growth for Ventura’s party, suggesting the full electoral repercussions—positive or negative—will surface only in November waves that explicitly test voter reaction to authoritarian language.

On the Campaign Horizon: Echoes of 1974 or a Passing Storm?

With presidential and municipal races approaching, opposition strategists must decide whether to confront Ventura head-on or starve him of the oxygen he frequently turns into media spectacle. Legal complaints against inflammatory billboards are being weighed, yet even critics like Marques Mendes argue that courtroom drama could reinforce Ventura’s anti-system branding. Meanwhile the government is preparing to table anti-corruption legislation, hoping tangible reforms will undercut the appeal of nostalgic strongman talk.

For residents from Braga to Faro, the episode is more than an outrageous sound bite. It revives the core question of 2024-25 Portuguese politics: can disillusionment with the status quo be channelled through democratic renewal, or will it nudge the electorate toward a rose-tinted memory of authoritarian order that never truly delivered what it promised? The weeks ahead, and the data they bring, may offer the first meaningful clues.