On November 8, 2025, Lisbon’s main avenue was transformed into a sea of placards, banners, and determined faces as tens of thousands of Portuguese workers, unionists, and concerned citizens marched in protest against sweeping labor reforms proposed by the country’s center-right government. The demonstration, called by Portugal’s largest labor union, the General Confederation of the Portuguese Workers (CGTP), brought together a vast cross-section of society, united in their opposition to changes they fear will erode hard-won labor rights and further strain working families already grappling with rising living costs.
According to Reuters, the CGTP estimated that around 100,000 demonstrators filled the streets of Lisbon, though police did not provide an official crowd size. Protesters carried signs emblazoned with messages such as “No to the labor package” and chanted calls for higher wages and better working conditions. The rally, which took place on a crisp Saturday, was not just a display of discontent but a warning shot: organizers announced plans for a general strike on December 11, 2025, signaling a willingness to escalate their opposition if the government does not reconsider its approach.
The focus of the protest was a draft bill, approved by Prime Minister Luis Montenegro’s government in September, that aims to overhaul Portugal’s labor laws. The government, which leads a minority administration under the center-right Democratic Alliance, argues that the reforms are necessary to improve productivity and flexibility in the country’s job market. Montenegro’s team says the changes will help Portugal compete more effectively in the global economy, where adaptability is often prized.
But opponents—led by the CGTP and echoed by many who took to the streets—see things very differently. They argue that the reforms are a thinly veiled attempt to favor big business at the expense of workers’ security and dignity. “The labor reform is clearly a step backward in working conditions and could lead to a complete lack of job security,” said Miriam Alves, a 31-year-old medical device company worker, as quoted by Reuters. “Even if it may not be my case, I’m speaking for the many young people with precarious jobs, low wages, and whose future would be to continue with fewer rights, tired and afraid of their future.”
The proposed changes are far-reaching. One of the most controversial provisions would make it easier for employers to dismiss workers for just cause, eliminating the current requirement to present evidence or allow workers to call witnesses in their defense. Restrictions on outsourcing would be relaxed, potentially allowing companies to shift more jobs to external contractors. Another clause would permit the creation of so-called “individual time banks,” enabling employees to work up to two extra hours per day, with a cap of 150 additional hours per year. Supporters say these measures will help companies respond to shifting market demands, but critics fear they will lead to longer hours, less job stability, and greater exploitation.
Other elements of the reform package have also sparked outrage. The government has proposed limiting the period during which breastfeeding women can claim a flexible work schedule—an issue that has drawn criticism from advocates for working mothers. Additionally, the draft bill would reduce the amount of bereavement leave granted after a miscarriage, a move opponents say is both insensitive and regressive.
For many in Portugal, these changes come at a time when workers are already feeling squeezed. Portugal remains one of Western Europe’s poorest countries, and official data cited by Reuters shows that more than half of the nation’s workers earned less than 1,000 euros (about $1,166) per month last year. The minimum wage, currently set at 870 euros (about $1,007) per month, is among the lowest in the European Union. Protesters are demanding that the minimum wage be raised to 1,050 euros ($1,214) by 2026—a move they say is necessary to keep pace with the rising cost of living and to ensure a basic standard of dignity for all workers.
“The government is reversing labor rights in an unfair, subtle, and cunning way, without having said anything before the election,” said Madalena Pena, a 34-year-old archive technician, reflecting a common sentiment among demonstrators who feel blindsided by the scale of the proposed changes. Many in the crowd accused the government of failing to disclose its intentions during the May election, and of pushing through reforms that primarily benefit large employers while leaving ordinary workers behind.
Prime Minister Luis Montenegro, who has led the Democratic Alliance since early 2025, finds himself in a delicate position. His government does not command a majority in parliament, making it reliant on support from other parties to pass legislation. The far-right Chega party, which is now the largest opposition group, has indicated it will support the labor reform bill, all but guaranteeing its passage in the coming weeks. This alliance has further inflamed tensions, with many protesters expressing concern about the growing influence of far-right politics in shaping the country’s economic and social policies.
The government maintains that the reforms are essential for Portugal’s future. By loosening restrictions on hiring and firing, and by allowing more flexible work arrangements, officials argue that businesses will be better positioned to grow and create new jobs. They point to the need for Portugal to remain competitive within the European Union and the broader global market, especially as automation and digitalization continue to reshape the world of work.
Yet for those who filled Lisbon’s avenues, the reforms feel less like progress and more like a rollback of basic protections. The CGTP, which has a long history of organizing mass demonstrations, accused the government of turning its back on low-paid workers and favoring corporate interests. “We are here to defend our rights and to demand dignity for all workers,” a union spokesperson declared from the stage, drawing cheers from the crowd.
The upcoming general strike, slated for December 11, is expected to test the resolve of both the government and the opposition. If participation matches or exceeds the numbers seen at Saturday’s protest, it could disrupt public services and put additional pressure on lawmakers to reconsider the most contentious aspects of the bill. For now, however, the government appears determined to press ahead, betting that the economic benefits of reform will outweigh the political costs.
As Portugal stands at this crossroads, the outcome of the labor reform debate will likely shape not only the immediate fortunes of its workforce but also the broader trajectory of the nation’s social contract. With so much at stake, both sides are bracing for a winter of heated debate—and, perhaps, further unrest.
