On October 12, 2025, Portugal’s municipal elections became the focus of national attention, with Lisbon’s mayoral race dominating headlines in the wake of a tragic streetcar crash that killed 16 people, including 11 tourists, just weeks earlier. The political drama unfolded against a backdrop of public outrage, surging tourism, skyrocketing real estate prices, and growing concerns over the city’s day-to-day management. Yet, for many Lisbonites, the ballot box was less about the recent tragedy and more about the city’s long-standing challenges.
The contest for Lisbon’s city hall was a tight one, pitting incumbent mayor Carlos Moedas—a 55-year-old rising star of Portugal’s center-right Social Democratic Party (PSD)—against Alexandra Leitão, a law professor representing the left-of-center Socialist Party (PS)-led coalition. Moedas, who leads a center-right coalition that includes the People’s Party (CDS) and Liberal Initiative, sought a second four-year term. His opponent, Leitão, aimed to become the capital’s first female mayor, buoyed by a broad alliance that also included the Left Bloc, Livre, and PAN (People-Animals-Nature).
The shadow of the September 3 streetcar disaster loomed large over the campaign. The crash, which claimed the lives of 16 people, sparked an immediate public outcry and thrust issues of accountability and public safety to the forefront. The operator of the ill-fated streetcar, Carris, falls under the oversight of Lisbon City Council. An official investigation quickly zeroed in on possible mechanical failures—specifically, problems with the brakes and a safety cable—raising uncomfortable questions about maintenance and oversight. Yet, despite the tragedy’s emotional impact, many voters insisted their choices would not be swayed by the incident.
“Chaotic traffic, a total mess, garbage like we hadn’t seen in many years,” lamented 72-year-old José Rosa to the Associated Press. “Of course this garbage issue is the result of a series of reasons but it needs planning. Politics is not just about performing in the face of issues, it is about anticipating them.” Rosa made it clear that the streetcar crash would not influence his vote, a sentiment echoed by others across Lisbon. Sandra Almeida, a local resident, shared her own concerns: “Us Lisbonites, we cannot live in Lisbon, we are being expelled from our own city.” For Almeida, the housing crisis—fueled by a surge in tourism and a sharp rise in property prices—was the defining issue. “It was an accident that happened, I think it’s not related to political parties,” she said, dismissing the crash as a political litmus test.
Mayor Moedas, for his part, categorically rejected any blame for the accident and refused to step down. “We’re talking about mechanical failures, not political responsibility,” he stated before the election, as reported by the Associated Press. Moedas also refused to convene a session with city councilors to discuss the tragedy before the vote, insisting he didn’t want the event to become a “political football.” This stance drew mixed reactions. While some voters agreed with the mayor’s position, others, like Ana Btelho, felt differently. “The streetcar crash only reinforced my opinion of the person representing us on the City Hall at the moment, and I think he represents us quite badly,” Btelho said.
The municipal elections were not just about Lisbon. Across Portugal’s 308 municipalities and 3,259 parishes—including the autonomous regions of Madeira and the Azores—over 9.3 million registered voters were called to elect city councils, municipal assemblies, and parish assemblies. The elections came at a time of political flux, with the far-right Chega party aiming to expand its influence beyond Lisbon. Chega, which had recently emerged as the second-largest force in parliament after a snap national election, fielded high-profile candidates in key cities such as Faro and Sintra. In several municipalities, Chega’s candidates were in a technical tie with rivals from both the Socialist Party and the Social Democratic Party, signaling a possible reshaping of Portugal’s local political landscape.
In Lisbon, the contest remained fiercely competitive. Moedas, who won the mayoralty in 2021 by the narrowest of margins after 14 years of socialist rule, faced a determined challenge from Leitão and the possibility of vote-splitting by João Ferreira of the Communist Party-led CDU coalition. The outcome hinged not just on the main parties but also on the growing number of independent candidates—a trend that has seen steady growth since 2005, when just seven mayors were elected from independent lists, rising to 19 by 2021.
The situation in Porto, Portugal’s second-largest city, was equally dynamic. With long-serving independent mayor Rui Moreira prevented from running again by term limits, the race opened up to new contenders: former Health Minister Manuel Pizarro for the Socialists and Pedro Duarte for the PSD/CDS coalition. The absence of an incumbent set the stage for a closely watched battle, with the outcome seen as a bellwether for national politics.
Behind the statistics and party maneuvering, everyday issues continued to dominate conversations on the streets of Lisbon. The city’s infrastructure has struggled to keep pace with a boom in tourism and real estate investment, leaving residents grappling with traffic congestion, insufficient trash collection, and a sense of being squeezed out of their own neighborhoods. As one observer put it, “Politics is not just about performing in the face of issues, it is about anticipating them.” For many, the municipal elections were a referendum not on a single tragic event, but on the broader trajectory of a city at a crossroads.
Voter turnout was a closely watched metric, especially given Portugal’s traditionally high rates of abstention—47.4% in 2013, a record at the time. This year, however, expectations were for a higher turnout, reflecting the heightened stakes and the sense that the outcome could shape the future of the capital and the country at large.
As the ballots were counted, the results would not only determine who would lead Lisbon and other municipalities for the next four years, but also offer a glimpse into the shifting currents of Portuguese politics—from the resilience of established parties to the rise of new forces and the persistent challenges facing cities in a rapidly changing world.
For Lisbon, the election was about more than a single tragedy. It was a moment for the city to reckon with its identity, its priorities, and the kind of leadership it needs as it navigates the pressures of growth, change, and the ever-present demands of its citizens.