Portugal is poised to become the latest European nation to ban Islamic face coverings such as the burqa and niqab in most public spaces, following a heated parliamentary vote that has reignited debates about religious freedom, women’s rights, and the rise of far-right politics across the continent.
On October 17, 2025, Portugal’s parliament approved a bill that would prohibit the wearing of face-covering veils in public, a measure introduced by the far-right Chega party and backed by the Social Democratic Party, the Liberal Initiative, and the Centre Democratic and Social People’s Party. The legislation, if enacted, would impose fines ranging from €200 to €4,000 (£175 to £3,475) on anyone wearing garments that obscure the face in public spaces. Forcing someone else to wear such a veil could result in a prison sentence of up to three years, according to Sky News.
The proposal’s supporters argue that the bill is a necessary step to protect women’s rights and ensure public safety. Chega’s leader, Andre Ventura, made a striking statement during the parliamentary debate, declaring, “We are protecting female members of parliament, your daughters, our daughters, from having to use burqas in this country one day.” This sentiment was echoed by Andreia Neto of the ruling Social Democratic Party, who insisted, “This is a debate on equality between men and women. No woman should be forced to veil her face.”
Chega’s leadership has consistently framed the bill as a defense of women’s autonomy and dignity, arguing that women forced to wear the burqa lose both. The party has also emphasized the need for immigrants in Portugal to respect the country’s social norms, including the expectation that faces remain visible in public. Lawmakers supporting the bill have cited identification and security concerns, claiming that face coverings hinder law enforcement and public safety efforts.
However, the measure has met fierce resistance from several quarters of Portuguese politics. The Socialist Party, the Left Bloc, Livre, and the Communist Party all voted against the bill, while Together for the People and the People Animals Nature chose to abstain. Opponents warn that the proposal risks unfairly targeting Muslims and promoting intolerance under the guise of women’s liberation and security.
As MP Pedro Delgado Alves of the Socialist Party told The Guardian, “This initiative is used solely to target foreigners, those who have a different faith.” He further emphasized that while no woman should be coerced into wearing a veil, the far-right’s approach is fundamentally flawed. The Left Bloc and Communist Party have argued that the measure violates constitutional protections of religious freedom and personal choice, with Livre accusing Chega of exploiting the issue to sow division in society.
Despite the passionate debate, the bill passed with support from the center-right coalition. It will now undergo further scrutiny by the parliamentary committee on Constitutional Affairs, Rights, Freedoms, and Guarantees before being sent to President Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa. The president has the authority to approve the bill, veto it, or refer it to the Constitutional Court for a legal review.
If enacted, the law would place Portugal alongside a growing list of European countries that have enacted similar bans. France was the first European nation to implement a full ban on face coverings in public spaces in 2011, followed by Belgium in 2010. Bulgaria introduced its ban in 2016, citing security concerns, while Austria passed its own legislation in 2017. Denmark’s prohibition came into effect in 2018, and the Netherlands adopted a partial ban in 2012 that covers schools, hospitals, and public transport. Norway also passed legislation in 2012 restricting face coverings in educational settings. Switzerland most recently approved a nationwide ban through a referendum in 2021, which is set to take effect in January 2025, according to 5Pillars and GB News.
Although these laws are often justified on the grounds of security, secularism, or the promotion of gender equality, their passage has consistently sparked controversy and legal challenges. Critics argue that such bans disproportionately impact Muslim women, infringe upon religious freedoms, and stoke social division. In Portugal, the issue is particularly contentious given that only a small minority of Muslim women in Europe, and an even smaller number in Portugal itself, actually wear the burqa or niqab. According to Sky News, the presence of these veils in Portugal is “very rare.”
For many, the debate is less about the garments themselves and more about what they symbolize in a rapidly changing Europe. Supporters of the ban see it as a stand for secular values, women’s rights, and integration. Detractors, meanwhile, view it as a manifestation of growing intolerance and the increasing influence of far-right parties, both in Portugal and across the continent.
Chega, the party behind the bill, has capitalized on anxieties about immigration and national identity, positioning itself as a defender of traditional Portuguese values. Their rhetoric has resonated with voters concerned about cultural change and security, but has also drawn sharp criticism from those who see it as a thinly veiled attack on minority communities. Livre, for example, has accused Chega of “exploiting the issue to divide society,” warning that such legislation risks deepening rifts and undermining the country’s commitment to pluralism.
Amid these debates, the proposed Portuguese law does include several exceptions. Face coverings would still be permitted in diplomatic missions, on aeroplanes, and in places of worship. There are also allowances for health, safety, cultural, or religious reasons under specific circumstances. These carve-outs are designed to address practical concerns and to avoid infringing on certain rights, but they have not quelled criticism from civil liberties advocates.
The looming question is what comes next. President Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa’s decision will be closely watched both within Portugal and across Europe. He could choose to sign the bill into law, aligning Portugal with its neighbors and fulfilling the demands of the parliamentary majority. Alternatively, he could veto the legislation or refer it to the Constitutional Court, where judges would weigh its compatibility with Portugal’s constitution and its protections for religious freedom and personal autonomy.
Whatever the outcome, the controversy over the burqa ban has once again brought to the fore the ongoing tension between secularism and religious expression, national identity and multiculturalism, security and liberty. As Portugal stands on the cusp of joining a growing European trend, the debate is unlikely to subside soon. With only a handful of women in the country actually wearing the burqa or niqab, the symbolic weight of the legislation far exceeds its immediate practical impact—raising questions about the true motivations behind the law and the future of pluralism in Portuguese society.
As the parliamentary process unfolds, all eyes will be on Lisbon to see whether Portugal chooses to follow the path of its European neighbors or to chart a different course in the ongoing struggle over identity, rights, and belonging.
