Elections in Brazil and Two Worlds at Odds

By Nina Fideles on October 1, 2026

On October 4, more than 150 million Brazilian voters will head to the polls to decide what could be one of the most polarized elections in the country’s recent history. It will also be one of the most closely watched from abroad, with direct implications for ongoing geopolitical disputes around the world. Furthermore, it will be marked as the final election campaign for Lula da Silva of the Workers’ Party (PT), who is seeking his fourth term.

The outcome will determine whether Brazil remains one of the few major countries in the Global South governed by a popular movement—with all its internal contradictions and limitations—or whether it definitively joins the arc of far-right governments that today stretches from Argentina to the United States.

Amid this geopolitical roller coaster on the continent—which has also experienced its own waves of progressivism—we may be witnessing a resurgence of the same logic that dates back to the 19th-century Monroe Doctrine and which, decades later, took a bloody form in Operation Condor, the alliance of Latin American dictatorships. This trajectory leads to the conclusion that U.S. actions on the continent have historically been arbitrary and oppressive, aimed at safeguarding its national interests, with heavy investment in armed groups, conspiracies, coups d’état, and disinformation. For those observing the region from abroad, understanding this conflict also means grasping where the balance of power is headed in Latin America and the world.

We can say that, since the June 2013 protests in Brazil—and more markedly in the 2018 and 2022 elections—a polarization between different visions and agendas has been gaining strength in the country. The new far right began to coalesce and grow during that period, finding its most complete expression in Jair Bolsonaro and his family, accompanied by an anti-establishment rhetoric that challenged the country’s main institutions. This process spanned the parliamentary, media, and judicial coup that removed then-President Dilma Rousseff from office in 2016, Lula’s imprisonment in 2018, and culminated in the election of Jair Bolsonaro that same year. From that point on, there followed four years of dismantling public policies, state structures, and state-owned enterprises, as well as the use of the public apparatus to reinforce the narratives and schemes of the group in power. The consequences of all this are still being felt in Brazil.

We can say that, since the June 2013 protests in Brazil—and more markedly in the 2018 and 2022 elections—a polarization between different visions and agendas has been gaining strength in the country.

In the 2026 race, the polarization between these two visions is very evident. On one side is the faction centered around President Lula, seeking a fourth term at the Planalto Palace. On the other is Senator Flávio Bolsonaro of the Liberal Party (PL), who has inherited the political capital built by his father—now managed from afar, as Jair Bolsonaro is serving a sentence in a maximum-security prison for attempting a coup d’état following the 2022 election results. A third narrative, with an anti-establishment tone and, “in principle,” no connection to either of the other two camps, is also gaining momentum, although it does not yet match the actual influence of the two campaigns that are at the heart of the presidential race.

Brazil on the Global Stage

This internal dispute now carries international significance that it lacked in 2018 and 2022. U.S. interference in Latin American electoral processes is nothing new, but this time it extended even to the conviction of the Bolsonaro family itself. It is worth noting an important contrast: it was the administrations of Lula and Dilma Rousseff, between 2003 and 2016, that restored Brazil’s relevance on the international stage—from the early repayment of its debt to the International Monetary Fund (IMF) to conflict mediation and leadership in multilateral forums. This is the political capital the country is now rebuilding, under pressure.

The most recent turning point came in July 2025, when the U.S. government, led by Donald Trump, announced tariffs of up to 50% on a range of Brazilian products. The official text of the measure explicitly mentioned what it described as a “witch hunt” against Jair Bolsonaro. International analysts and media outlets described the episode as an unprecedented use of trade policy: never before had a U.S. president imposed tariffs while explicitly citing the trial of a political ally in another country. Known in Brazil as the “tariff shock,” the episode ultimately produced a domestic political effect that led the ruling party to reinforce its rhetoric on national sovereignty.

This confrontation came to the fore at the opening of the 81st session of the United Nations (UN) General Assembly in New York on September 22, 2026. In his final speech in office before the elections, Lula described that moment as “the most critical” for the institution since his first speech at the same podium in 2003. The president criticized the “arancelazo,” declared that “Brazil does not belong in anyone’s backyard,” and condemned the classification of Brazilian criminal factions as terrorist organizations. Hours later, Donald Trump promised “unmatched military might” to “eradicate the cartels” and “restore order” in the region, citing as evidence the kidnapping—which he called an “arrest”—of Venezuelan Nicolás Maduro, currently imprisoned in New York awaiting trial for drug trafficking. He also referred to an oil deal with Venezuela valued at 65 billion barrels, leveled criticism against Cuba, and reaffirmed his willingness to take military action against those who, in his view, do not combat narco-terrorism in the region on their own.

In this context, the decision made by the United States in June 2026 to designate the criminal factions Primeiro Comando da Capital (PCC) and Comando Vermelho (CV) as terrorist organizations—with a view to formalizing the measure at a later date—takes on particular significance. The Brazilian government rejected the request out of fear of the legal precedent it sets. Profit-driven criminal organizations—lacking political or ideological motivations and thus falling outside the classic definition of terrorism—can be considered, from the U.S. perspective, legitimate targets for extraterritorial actions. That same logic was used months earlier to justify the U.S. military entry into Caracas, by classifying an adversary as a narco-terrorist to pave the way for an intervention without backing in international law. For Brazil, and for the entire region, the Venezuelan precedent is an explicit warning about how far that narrative can go.

Furthermore, Lula’s administration has invested in projecting Brazil as a voice of the Global South. It expanded coordination within the BRICS, strengthened the Southern Common Market (Mercosur), and hosted, in November 2025, the Conference of the Parties to the Climate Convention (COP30) in the city of Belém, in the heart of the Amazon. This positioned the country—albeit within the limits of the conference itself and its concrete effects—as a key player in the international climate debate.

These two paths for Brazil’s integration into the world are as distinct as the competing projects that shape the material living conditions of Brazilian workers. One advocates for automatic alignment with Washington and the ideology of the new international far right; the other, for autonomy and South-South cooperation.

Time and Income as Rights

Some historic demands of the working class made progress during Lula da Silva’s last administration, and this could translate into greater support for his reelection bid. Among them is the Proposed Constitutional Amendment (PEC) that reduces the workweek to 40 hours without a pay cut. Born out of a broad social movement, the proposal was adopted by Lula’s administration as its own cause and has made progress in the Senate. Flávio Bolsonaro’s camp has resisted the initiative, siding with the business community. In May 2025, the PL candidate criticized the PEC, arguing that it could increase costs and unemployment. This is an argument rejected by academic research, such as the “Dossier 6×1” from the University of Campinas (Unicamp), which estimates that the reduction in working hours would create 4.5 million new jobs.

On the revenue front, in November 2025, the government enacted an income tax exemption for those earning up to 5,000 reais per month (960 USD), with a progressive tax reduction for those earning up to 7,350 reais (1,400 USD). Starting in January 2026, this change exempted or reduced the tax for more than 15 million taxpayers, offsetting the loss with a minimum tax on annual income exceeding 600,000 reais (115,650 USD). This is a direct redistribution measure, described by the labor movement as a “victory for the working class,” which comes on top of the restoration of the minimum wage’s purchasing power.

Even so, these advances have not automatically translated into peace of mind for Lula’s campaign, which, poll after poll, is seeking to adjust its course to gain greater support from society at large.

A new front of institutional erosion gained momentum in 2026 with the Banco Master scandal. The arrest of banker Daniel Vorcaro, identified as the leader of a multimillion-dollar fraud scheme, triggered an investigation that implicated Flávio Bolsonaro and other right-wing politicians and lawmakers. However, the case also implicated justices of the Federal Supreme Court (STF), including Alexandre de Moraes, the reporting justice for the cases that led to Jair Bolsonaro’s conviction and imprisonment for his role in the coup plot. This gave the opposition an opportunity to try to turn the scandal into a tool to wear down the ruling party, with the expectation that attacks on the justice’s credibility would help delegitimize the former president’s conviction.

The Limits of the Popular Sector and Why Bolsonarism Persists

Why does Bolsonarism remain competitive even after a failed coup, a historic conviction of its main symbol, Jair Bolsonaro, and social indicators that improved on several fronts during Lula’s administration? This is a question that the Brazilian popular sector—like that of other countries in the region facing similar challenges—cannot avoid. And engaging in profound self-criticism seems to be something we cannot afford to avoid.

Throughout this latest period in the recent history of Brazil and Latin America, we can observe a profound institutional crisis and a struggle over meanings and sentiments that has alienated a large portion of the population from politics. When anti-establishment rhetoric gains ground, it means that a segment of the population has stopped believing in established political institutions and in the very culture of political engagement, distancing itself from the debate about the future. In other words, this segment of the population has, to a large extent, become apolitical, having lost hope in politics’ ability to transform their daily lives.

Throughout this recent period in the history of Brazil and Latin America, we can observe a profound institutional crisis and a clash of meanings and sentiments that has alienated a large portion of the population from politics.

One of the weaknesses of the popular sector is communication. For more than twenty years, PT governments have promoted public policies that increased incomes, created effective programs, and reduced hunger and poverty. However, they have struggled to convey these achievements in language that resonates with those who benefit most from them. They also find it difficult to help these sectors understand how political systems and public policies work, how to access them, how to challenge them, and how to participate in them.

Today there is an entire generation that is the product of successful public policies from the 2000s, yet it does not attribute any role to the state in the transformation of its own lives—a narrative now dominated by the discourse of meritocracy. It is no coincidence that, over the past ten years, the Brazilian far right has built an extremely efficient digital communication machine—even with the participation and support of major tech companies—capable of transforming favorable economic data into a sense of decline, and of keeping alive, even with its leader in prison, a political, aesthetic, emotional, and communal identity, mobilized by networks of influencers, churches, and messaging groups.

A second weakness is institutional. Brazil’s coalition-based presidential system forces Lula’s government to negotiate in the National Congress with a center-right majority, known in the country as the “Centrão.” This political bloc blocks or dilutes deeper structural reforms, ranging from tax reform to reforms of the security forces.

And all of this culminates in a symbolic weakness. The perception of insecurity and moral crisis—strongly fueled by the rapidly growing neo-Pentecostal evangelical churches in the country—carries as much weight today as, or even more than, objective economic indicators. Furthermore, this generates an “anti-PT” movement—that is, one opposed to the Workers’ Party—which affects the relationship between the government and the population. Understanding this disconnect between data and perception and contesting this symbolic and cognitive terrain is today one of the main challenges not only for the PT and the popular left, but for any progressive project that seeks not only to win an election but also to contain the advance of the far right in the medium term.

Finally, there remains a question that goes beyond the electoral calendar but which, at the same time, requires creating the favorable conditions to win an election with so much at stake: How can we build political consciousness beyond election cycles? Democracy in our time has been reduced to the act of voting every two or four years. This limits the capacity to transform reality and the very political education of the people. Reinventing this relationship—and not just winning the next election—is the challenge facing the Latin American popular sector, win or lose.

Source: Cubadebate, translation Resumen Latinoamericano – English