How Lula's Own Anti-Poverty Legacy May Have Fueled Brazil's Rightward Shift

Brazil's political landscape has been thrown into uncertainty after far-right Senator Flavio Bolsonaro surged ahead of President Luiz Inacio "Lula" da Silva in the first round of the country's presidential election on Sunday. The result, which saw neither candidate secure an outright majority, sets the stage for a decisive run-off vote on October 25 that will determine who leads the nation of more than 214 million people for the next four years.

The outcome came as a profound shock to supporters of Lula's centre-left Workers' Party (PT), who had watched opinion polls place the veteran leftist ahead of his rival in the final days before the vote. Instead, Flavio Bolsonaro — the son of Lula's jailed far-right predecessor, Jair Bolsonaro — finished first by a narrow margin of less than two percentage points, a gap that nonetheless reshaped the electoral map heading into the second round.

With several other right-wing candidates eliminated in the first round, their supporters now appear likely to consolidate behind the younger Bolsonaro, making the run-off a contest that many analysts describe as his to lose. Even if Lula manages to mobilise the more than one in five voters who abstained on Sunday, the far right's momentum extends well beyond the presidential race. Congressional and gubernatorial elections across the country delivered significant gains to Bolsonaro's Liberal Party (PL), which is expected to emerge as the leading force in both the lower-house Chamber of Deputies and the Senate.

The scale of the rightward lurch has prompted a deeper question among observers: how did a president once celebrated for lifting millions out of poverty find himself trailing a candidate whose family is mired in scandal and whose patriarch sits in prison? According to Thomas Zicman de Barros, a fellow at the centre for political research at Sciences Po university in Paris, the answer lies partly in the Bolsonaro family's enduring ability to channel anti-establishment anger, despite its own legal and ethical troubles.

Zicman de Barros noted that Flavio Bolsonaro and his relatives continue to embody a sense of rebellion against the status quo, even as they face multiple corruption investigations. Meanwhile, he argued, Lula — a former trade unionist who once represented a populist challenge to Brazil's elites — now personifies the establishment itself, along with the defence of a liberal democratic system that, while imperfect, has become the target of voter frustration.

For many Brazilians, the president who served two earlier terms from 2003 to 2011 remains inextricably linked to the system he once defied. Felipe Krause, a former Brazilian diplomat who heads Oxford University's Brazilian Studies Programme, pointed to the global cost-of-living crisis and rising household debt as forces that have eroded the economic gains achieved during Lula's most recent tenure. He described the current economic picture as mixed — unemployment is relatively low and incomes have even risen to some degree — but stressed that high prices have created a pervasive sense of hopelessness about future prosperity.

That disconnect between macroeconomic indicators and everyday experience may help explain why Lula's message has struggled to resonate. Krause observed that the Lula camp has not fully grasped how profoundly Brazil has changed since the president's first two terms — and, paradoxically, how much of that transformation stems from the success of Lula's own anti-poverty policies. The sweeping welfare reforms he enacted two decades ago helped create a growing lower-middle class, a segment of society that now finds itself drawn to the far right's promise to reduce the role of government in people's lives.

This irony sits at the heart of the electoral moment. The very measures that once cemented Lula's bond with Brazil's poorest communities and organised working class have produced a new constituency with different aspirations and grievances — one that no longer sees the Workers' Party as its natural champion. The rise of this lower-middle class has reshaped the political terrain in ways that Lula's coalition appears not to have anticipated, leaving him vulnerable to a challenger who speaks the language of anti-establishment discontent.

The first-round results also exposed the limits of Lula's attempt to frame the contest as a defence of democracy against far-right extremism. While that argument may still hold appeal for some voters, it has not proven sufficient to overcome the economic anxieties and desire for change that propelled Flavio Bolsonaro to a surprise first-place finish. Lula now faces the daunting task of reassembling a coalition in just three weeks, courting abstentionists and persuading voters who have drifted toward the right that his vision offers a more credible path forward.

The congressional and gubernatorial results compound the challenge. With the Liberal Party positioned to dominate both chambers of Congress, a second Lula term would confront a legislature far less amenable to his agenda than in previous years. The right's gains at the state level further entrench its influence across the country, suggesting that Sunday's vote was not merely a presidential setback but a broader realignment of Brazilian politics.

For now, all eyes turn to the October 25 run-off. Flavio Bolsonaro enters the second round with clear momentum, a consolidated right-wing base and the advantage of a political brand that has proven resilient despite its association with scandal and imprisonment. Lula, meanwhile, must find a way to reconnect with an electorate that has changed around him — in part because of the very successes that once defined his legacy. Whether he can bridge that gap may determine not only his own political fate but the direction of Brazil for years to come.