Lula launches fourth-term bid as Bolsonaro's son challenges in pivotal Brazil election

Hundreds of thousands of citizens died during Bolsonaro's COVID-19 mismanagement; gun ownership expansion enabled criminal groups to expand arsenals.
The guy running the show lives in a penthouse, and we need to stop this
Lula on targeting organized crime bosses rather than street-level dealers in his fourth-term platform.
Mark

Why does an eighty-year-old man want to run for a fourth term? Isn't that unusual?

Mimi

It is, but Lula sees this as existential. He's not running for legacy—he's running because he believes the alternative is a return to something he lived through before. The Bolsonaro years terrified him and his supporters. A fourth term is about prevention.

Mark

The polls show him barely ahead. That's not a comfortable position.

Mimi

No, it's precarious. Forty-three to forty percent is a margin that could evaporate. And Flávio Bolsonaro is a different opponent than his father—younger, less polarizing on the surface, though carrying the same ideological weight.

Mark

What's the Trump angle here? Why is the US suddenly so involved?

Mimi

Trump's administration sees Latin America as its sphere. The designation of Brazilian crime groups as terrorists isn't really about terrorism—it's about creating legal cover for military action if they decide to take it. It's a warning shot.

Mark

Do Brazilians see it that way?

Mimi

Some do. The activists handing out anti-Trump stickers, the comparisons to Iraq—there's real anxiety that the US could use the drug war as justification for intervention, just as it did with WMDs in the Middle East.

Mark

So this election is about more than Brazil?

Mimi

It's become a referendum on whether Latin America stays independent or falls back into the US orbit. If Flávio wins and aligns with Trump, that sends a signal across the region. If Lula holds on, it's a statement that Brazil won't be pushed around.

Mark

What does Lula actually offer voters beyond "not Bolsonaro"?

Mimi

Education, healthcare, development of rare-earth resources. But honestly, at this moment, "not Bolsonaro" might be enough. The pandemic deaths, the gun proliferation, the chaos—those memories are fresh. The question is whether they're fresh enough to overcome the economic frustrations that might push people toward change.

  • Lula, at eighty, is campaigning not from ambition but from a declared sense of historical obligation — he believes only he stands between Brazil and the far-right's return.
  • Flávio Bolsonaro launched his rival campaign the same day on Copacabana beach, wearing a bulletproof vest and invoking his father's legacy before a crowd noticeably smaller than the one in São Bernardo do Campo.
  • Polls show a razor-thin 43%-40% Lula advantage in the anticipated runoff, meaning the outcome remains genuinely open and the pressure on both campaigns is immense.
  • The Trump administration's designation of Brazil's largest crime groups as terrorist organizations has injected a volatile external force into the race, raising fears of US military intervention that Bolsonaro welcomes and Lula's supporters compare to the pretexts used before the Iraq War.
  • International observers are calling this the most consequential election in the world this year, a potential pivot point for democracy across Latin America and a test of whether the pro-Trump reactionary wave can be turned back.

At the stadium where his union organizing once helped dismantle a military dictatorship, an eighty-year-old Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva opened his campaign for a fourth presidential term, facing the son of the man he narrowly defeated in 2022. The contest is less a conventional election than a referendum on memory — on pandemic dead, on loosened gun laws, on a coup attempt — and on whether the democratic center can hold against a resurgent far-right emboldened by currents flowing from Washington. Brazil's October vote has drawn the attention of the hemisphere, carrying within it questions that no single nation can answer alone.

On a Sunday in August, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva returned to Vila Euclides stadium in São Bernardo do Campo — the same football ground where, as a thirty-three-year-old union organizer in 1979, he helped lead the strikes that began dismantling Brazil's military dictatorship. Nearly fifty years later, now eighty years old and serving his third presidential term, he stood before thousands to announce he would seek a fourth. His message was unambiguous: he would spend whatever time remained to him ensuring the far-right never reclaimed the presidency.

Lula's path to this moment has been anything but straight. He lost three presidential bids before winning in 2002 as Brazil's first working-class leader. His early terms brought welfare expansion and hunger reduction, though corruption scandals shadowed the achievements. Then came Jair Bolsonaro, whose 2018 election was made possible in part by Lula's own imprisonment on charges later overturned by the supreme court after 580 days behind bars. The Bolsonaro years brought environmental devastation, international isolation, and a pandemic response so reckless it contributed to hundreds of thousands of deaths. Gun laws were loosened, flooding the country with over a million new weapons that criminal organizations used to expand their power. Lula defeated Bolsonaro by the narrowest of margins in 2022, and within a week of his inauguration, far-right radicals stormed Brasília in a failed coup. Bolsonaro himself was imprisoned in 2025 for twenty-seven years for plotting that power grab.

Now his son was running. Flávio Bolsonaro, a forty-five-year-old senator, launched his campaign the same Sunday on Copacabana beach — the site of his father's massive rallies — wearing a bulletproof vest beneath a yellow Brazil shirt and promising to fight 'this system.' His crowd was noticeably smaller. Polls gave Lula a narrow 43%-40% advantage in the anticipated runoff, with the first round set for October 4th and a potential runoff on October 25th.

At the stadium, Lula promised a fourth term focused on education, healthcare, and developing Brazil's vast rare-earth reserves. On security, he offered a pointed diagnosis: it was easy to kill criminals in the favelas, but the real architects of organized crime lived in penthouses, and that was where enforcement needed to go.

The election has grown into something larger than a domestic contest. The Trump administration's designation of Brazil's two largest crime organizations as terrorist groups has raised alarm among Lula's supporters, who fear it could serve as a pretext for US military intervention — a parallel, some said outside the rally, to the false pretexts that preceded the invasion of Iraq. Flávio Bolsonaro, by contrast, praised the designation and positioned himself as the only leader capable of negotiating with Washington. Scholars and observers have called this the most important election in the world this year, a potential turning point not just for Brazil but for the democratic project across the hemisphere.

Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva stood before thousands at Vila Euclides stadium on Sunday, the same football ground where his improbable rise to power began nearly fifty years earlier. Now eighty years old, the Brazilian president was launching his bid for a fourth term—a historic stretch that would extend his grip on the country's highest office if he prevails in October's election. His message was unambiguous: he would spend whatever time remained to him ensuring the far-right never reclaimed the presidency.

Lula's campaign opening was a deliberate return to origins. In 1979, as a thirty-three-year-old union organizer, he had led strikes that helped dismantle Brazil's military dictatorship, transforming himself into a national figure. That victory took years—he lost three times before winning the presidency in 2002 as the country's first working-class leader. His first two terms, stretching through 2010, brought expanded welfare programs, hunger reduction, and wider access to higher education, though corruption scandals shadowed the achievements. The years that followed were turbulent. His successor, Dilma Rousseff, became the first female president but steered the country into recession and was controversially removed from office in 2016.

Then came Jair Bolsonaro. In 2018, Lula was imprisoned on corruption charges—a conviction later overturned by the supreme court after 580 days behind bars. The imprisonment cleared the field for Bolsonaro's election and four years of what Lula now characterized as environmental devastation and international isolation. The pandemic arrived during those years, and Bolsonaro's anti-science approach contributed to hundreds of thousands of deaths. Gun laws were loosened, flooding the country with more than a million new weapons that criminal organizations seized to expand their power. By 2022, when Lula defeated Bolsonaro by the narrowest of margins, he declared the nightmare over. A week after his January 2023 inauguration, far-right radicals stormed Brasília in a failed coup attempt. Bolsonaro was imprisoned in 2025 for twenty-seven years for plotting that power grab.

Now his son was running. Flávio Bolsonaro, a forty-five-year-old senator, launched his campaign the same Sunday on Rio's Copacabana beach, the site of his father's massive rallies. Wearing a bulletproof vest beneath a yellow Brazil shirt, he told a noticeably smaller crowd that he would fight "this system." Polls showed Lula with a narrow advantage—43 percent to Bolsonaro's 40 percent in the anticipated runoff scheduled for October 25th, assuming no candidate reached 50 percent in the first round on October 4th.

At the stadium, Lula spoke directly to the violence of the Bolsonaro years. He promised a fourth term dedicated to education and healthcare, and to developing Brazil's rare-earth deposits, the world's second largest reserve after China's. On security, he offered a stark diagnosis: it was simple to kill criminals in the favelas, but the real architects of organized crime lived in penthouses, and that was where enforcement needed to focus. He told his far-right opponents to "show some shame."

The election had become something larger than a domestic contest. André Pagliarini, author of a book about Lula, called it "the single most important electoral contest this year in the world." A Bolsonaro victory would energize what he termed the pro-Trump "reactionary block" that had won elections across Latin America—in Argentina, Chile, Colombia. The Trump administration had already turned its attention southward with intensity. It designated Brazil's two largest crime organizations as terrorist groups, a move that sparked fears of US military intervention on Brazilian soil. Trump's defense secretary, Pete Hegseth, visited a jungle training camp in Panama and declared Washington would use military force to "ruthlessly" pursue Latin American drug traffickers, comparing the effort to the war on terror against ISIS and al-Qaeda.

Outside Lula's rally, activists distributed stickers reading "Fuck Trump." A thirty-three-year-old supporter named Seixas Alves expressed alarm that the terrorist designation could become a pretext for American military action, drawing a parallel to the false weapons claims that preceded the invasion of Iraq. In Rio, Flávio Bolsonaro praised Trump's targeting of the crime groups and positioned himself as the only politician capable of negotiating with Washington. Back at the stadium, Simone Tebet, a centrist aligned with Lula, urged voters to prevent Brazil from falling into the hands of those who wanted to "kill Brazilian democracy" and build "a country of hate." The October election would determine not just Brazil's direction but, in the view of many observers, a crucial pivot point for the hemisphere itself.

As long as I live, I will not allow the shameless right to return to power
— Lula, at campaign launch
I am going to be Brazil's next president because I'm going to fight this system
— Flávio Bolsonaro, at campaign launch
Quer a matéria completa? Leia o original em The Guardian ↗
Fale Conosco FAQ