On a brisk Saturday in early November 2025, the heart of Lisbon pulsed with the chants and banners of tens of thousands of demonstrators. They packed the city’s main boulevard, Avenida da Liberdade, their voices unified in opposition to a sweeping labor reform package proposed by Portugal’s government. According to Reuters, the organizers—Portugal’s largest trade union, CGTP—estimated the crowd at nearly 100,000, though police offered no official count. Their message was clear and emblazoned on countless posters: “No to the labor package.”
The protest was not a spontaneous outpouring, but a carefully coordinated response to what many see as a critical juncture for workers’ rights in Portugal. At the center of the storm is Prime Minister Luis Montenegro, who leads a center-right Democratic Alliance minority government in the European Union nation of 10.6 million. His administration argues that the labor reforms are essential for improving productivity and flexibility in the job market, and ultimately for boosting Portugal’s competitiveness on the European stage. But for many workers, the proposed changes feel like a step backward.
The government’s proposed overhaul, approved in September 2025, is far-reaching. As reported by IPN, the reforms would make it easier for employers to dismiss workers for valid reasons, and crucially, without the obligation to present evidence or hear witnesses if an employee contests the dismissal. Companies would also be permitted to create so-called “individual time banks,” allowing employees to work up to two additional hours per day, capped at 150 hours annually. For many, this conjures fears of longer workdays and less security, especially in a country where over half of all workers earned less than 1,000 euros per month last year, according to official data cited by Reuters.
Portugal’s minimum wage currently stands at 870 euros (about $1,007) per month—one of the lowest in the European Union. Demonstrators on Saturday demanded a raise to 1,050 euros ($1,214) by 2026, a figure they say is necessary to keep pace with the rising cost of living. The CGTP accused the government of favoring big business at the expense of poorly paid workers, a sentiment echoed by many in the crowd.
“The labor reform is clearly a step back in terms of working conditions and could lead to a total lack of job security,” said Miriam Alves, a 31-year-old employee at a medical device company, as quoted by Reuters. Another protester, Madalena Pena, 34, claimed, “The government is nullifying labor rights in an unfair, subtle and cunning way, without having said anything before the May elections.”
Beyond the headline measures, the reforms touch on deeply personal aspects of working life. They would limit the period during which breastfeeding women can claim a flexible work schedule and reduce bereavement leave for miscarriages. Critics argue these changes disproportionately affect women and families, undermining hard-won social protections. The package also includes adjustments to parental leave, professional training, trial periods for new contracts, and expands the list of sectors required to provide minimum services during strikes.
Trade union leaders have not minced words in their condemnation. At the end of Saturday’s march, CGTP leader Tiago Oliveira announced a general strike for December 11, 2025, calling the government’s proposal “one of the biggest attacks ever made on workers.” Oliveira highlighted that the “over 100 changes” in the package would “tilt power toward employers,” a claim that has resonated with many rank-and-file workers. The General Union of Workers (UGT), Portugal’s other major union, is expected to join the strike, raising the prospect of the country’s first joint nationwide labor action since the austerity-era protests more than a decade ago, as reported by local media.
Prime Minister Montenegro, for his part, has been quick to dismiss the strike as politically motivated. “Frankly, I can’t see any reason for this decision except to serve the interests of PCP (Communist Party) and PS (Socialist Party),” he said, referencing the unions’ ties to opposition parties, according to national outlets. He described the strike as “incomprehensible” and “anachronistic,” arguing that “no legislation has yet been approved by the Council of Ministers.” Montenegro insisted, “No one can understand it, and in my opinion, it doesn’t look good for the trade union movement. When the reality of the country is not the reality of the unions, something is wrong, and it’s not the country.”
The prime minister further contended that there is “no objective reason that could justify a general strike,” pointing to what he described as Portugal’s strong economic performance. “The government has done everything to avoid all strikes,” he said, and recalled that Portugal “was, among the 38 OECD countries, the one where people’s incomes rose the most in 2024.” Despite the heated rhetoric, Montenegro maintained that the government remains open to dialogue. “We are in the middle of negotiations. The proposal hasn’t even been approved in the Council of Ministers, nor sent to Parliament.”
President Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa has sought to play the role of mediator, urging restraint and patience on all sides. He noted that discussions are still at an early stage and that the government’s proposal will “probably only be discussed in Parliament at the end of this year or next year.” The bill is expected to pass, thanks to support from Chega, the far-right and largest opposition party, which shares the government’s view that increased labor market flexibility is essential for Portugal’s economic future.
For many workers, however, the debate is about more than economic theory or parliamentary procedure—it’s about dignity, security, and the ability to provide for their families. Portugal remains one of Western Europe’s poorest countries, and the prospect of easier dismissals and longer hours has struck a nerve. As the December general strike looms, the standoff between the government and organized labor appears only to be intensifying.
The outcome of this confrontation will shape not just the future of Portuguese labor law, but also the broader social contract between the state, employers, and workers. With both sides digging in and the public watching closely, Portugal stands at a crossroads—torn between the demands of a modern, flexible economy and the enduring struggle for fair wages and job security.
As the dust settles from the weekend’s demonstrations and the country braces for the December strike, one thing is certain: the debate over labor reform has become a defining issue for Portugal in 2025, with consequences that will echo for years to come.
