Portugal’s Open Door Dilemma: The Paradox of Tolerance

Author: Dusiying (Ami) Jin

Portugal was once praised as Europe’s most welcoming country for migrants, but rising housing costs, political discontent, and the surge of the far-right Chega party are testing that image. This blog explores Portugal’s “open door dilemma,” asking whether tolerance can survive when it is not always reciprocated.

Image credits: FreePik and Adobe Stock

For decades, Portugal's postcolonial ties fostered a migrant population that was racially mixed yet linguistically and culturally familiar. The nation was praised for creating one of the European Union (EU)’s most open and inclusive immigration regimes, often ranked among the best models for integration. Until recently, Portugal was celebrated as an exception to the European story of backlash and polarization. 

However, this image is rapidly changing. Portugal has experienced a historic surge in immigration, with more than 1.5 million foreign residents living in the country by early 2025—over 10 percent of the population. Migrants from Brazil, South Asia, and Lusophone Africa fill critical labour shortages in agriculture, tourism, and services, while “golden visa” investors, retirees, and digital nomads drive demand for property. This diversity embodies the benefits of openness, yet it has also exposed fractures in housing, wages, and public opinion.

Cracks in the Open Door

The city of Lisbon and the Algarve region, once regarded as diverse hubs, are now at the centre of Portugal's housing crisis. Rents in Lisbon have nearly doubled since 2015, while house prices rose by 186 percent. Overcrowded living conditions disproportionately affect non-EU migrants, particularly South Asians, whose labour is essential but often precarious. Public concern has shifted, in the latest European Commission barometer, where 68 percent of Portuguese citizens said immigration policy was too permissive. Over half of citizens say immigration threatens Portuguese culture and security, a concern that has nearly doubled since 2010, while 67 percent think migrants commit more crime than locals. Yet paradoxically, 68 percent also agree that migrants contribute positively to the economy, filling labour gaps and supporting the social security system.

This duality, recognition of economic need but fear of cultural change, has fuelled a volatile political environment. 

Chega and the Geography of Discontent

Chega (“Enough”), Portugal’s far-right party, has capitalized on these tensions. Its electoral rise is unprecedented, from a single seat in 2019 to 58 seats in 2025, tying with the Socialist Party as the second-largest bloc in the parliament. 

Chega’s strongest support comes from rural regions and medium-sized cities, where disillusionment with Lisbon’s elites runs deep. Scholars call this the “geography of discontent,” the uprising of places left behind by globalization and modernization. In these regions, Chega has overtaken both left and right-wing traditional parties, presenting itself as the only voice for communities who feel excluded from Portugal’s growth. 

The party’s organizational base is also growing stronger. Studies show Chega’s activists are highly mobilized, using grassroots networks and social media to transform discontent into votes. Their rhetoric, protesting against “uncontrolled borders” and calling for stricter cultural assimilation, echoes populist anti-immigration and anti-tourists movements in Italy, France, and the United States. 

The Paradox of Tolerance

The dilemmas Portugal faces are not just political and economic, they are philosophical. Can an “open door” society remain tolerant when confronted with intolerance, whether from far-right movements or from communities resistant to integration?

Recent research highlights that tolerance matters on both sides. Migrants from more tolerant societies are more likely to integrate successfully in Europe, while mutual intolerance leads to cultural fragmentation. Portugal’s immigration debate thus cannot be reduced to economics alone; it hinges on whether both hosts and newcomers can sustain the values of pluralism.

The dilemma can be summed up in a stark question: Why should we be tolerant of groups that are not tolerant toward us? Portugal’s “open door dilemma” lies exactly here. Closing the door risks fuelling xenophobia and undermining economic needs. Leaving it wide open without addressing housing, inequality, and integration, on the other hand, risks empowering populists like Chega.

Looking Forward

Portugal is no longer the outlier it once was. Its struggle mirrors Europe’s broader crisis: defending liberal values while grappling with real social strains. The lesson is that openness cannot survive on symbolic inclusivity alone. It requires concrete policies, including investments in affordable housing, labour protections, and place-sensitive strategies that address the rural-urban divide. 

If Portugal succeeds, it may still serve as a model for Europe, not as the naive exception that it is now, but as a resilient democracy that reconciles openness with realism and tolerance with security.