Bolsonaro's election surge threatens Amazon and Brazil's democracy, climate experts warn

Brazil held the first round of its presidential election this week, and the result has alarmed climate scientists and conservationists worldwide. Flávio Bolsonaro, the far-right son of former president Jair Bolsonaro, secured 47 percent of the vote, positioning himself to face incumbent Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva in a runoff scheduled for October 25. Lula received 44.2 percent. If Bolsonaro holds his lead and wins the second round, the consequences for the Amazon rainforest—and for Brazil's democracy—could be severe.

The paradox at the heart of this election is stark. Lula's administration has cut Amazon deforestation by nearly half since taking office. That is a measurable, significant achievement in one of the world's most biodiverse regions. Yet that success appears to have done little to help Lula or other pro-environment candidates at the ballot box. Marina Silva, the former environment minister, lost her bid for the Senate. Joenia Wapichana, who previously headed Brazil's Indigenous affairs agency, failed to win a congressional seat. Of 57 Indigenous candidates running across the country, only two were elected. The voters of Latin America's largest and richest nation seem to have prioritized other concerns.

Flávio Bolsonaro inherits his father's political project. During Jair Bolsonaro's four years as president, Amazon deforestation increased by 59.5 percent—the equivalent of destroying roughly two billion trees. If elected, Flávio has pledged to free his father, who is currently imprisoned for plotting a military coup and attempting to overturn democracy in Brazil. He has suggested his father could hold any position in his administration. As a lawmaker, Flávio backed a 2019 bill that would have eliminated requirements for Amazon landowners to preserve native vegetation on their property. His campaign manifesto contains no mention of climate change.

The Bolsonaro movement, known as Bolsonarism, is fundamentally aligned with extractive industries—mining, logging, land seizure—and has cultivated support from some of the Amazon's largest and most aggressive landowners. Daniel Santos, the Bolsonarist candidate who won the governorship of Pará, an Amazonian state, was previously fined $275,000 for illegally deforesting 280 hectares of his own land. He is now promising to waive such penalties. As a result of this week's voting, Bolsonarists now control seven of the nine states that comprise the Brazilian Amazon, with a chance to claim an eighth in the runoff elections. Flávio's brother Carlos and his mother-in-law Michelle were both elected to the Senate, while an uncle and another brother won seats in the lower house. The family's political reach is expanding.

Even before this election, Brazil's Congress had been working to dismantle environmental protections. The legislature is dominated by agribusiness interests. With Bolsonarist gains, that effort will become nearly unstoppable—especially given turmoil in Brazil's Supreme Court, which has served as a partial brake on unchecked expansion by miners, ranchers, and agricultural corporations. If Lula wins the runoff, he would face a hostile Congress. If Bolsonaro wins, environmental safeguards could collapse entirely.

Why have voters seemingly turned away from forest protection despite Lula's demonstrable success? Several explanations are circulating. Social media has been weaponized far more effectively by the far right. During Jair Bolsonaro's presidency, his sons operated what became known as the "hate cabinet," spreading fear and disinformation through WhatsApp groups and other platforms, often targeting environmentalists. Carlos Bolsonaro was indicted by federal police for leading this operation. A second factor is the rapid expansion of Pentecostal Christianity across Brazil, particularly in the Amazon, where it is displacing Catholicism. Many evangelical preachers encourage followers to pursue wealth in the present rather than moral conduct for a promised afterlife—a theological shift with direct political consequences for environmental policy.

Lula, now 80, has struggled to adapt his messaging to contemporary voters. Though he remains arguably the most iconic and successful Latin American politician of the 21st century, his political machinery has weakened. The Workers Party has lost ground in an era of declining union membership. Paradoxically, the party has also been undermined by its own earlier success: education and social policies that lifted millions out of poverty created new expectations for consumption and entrepreneurship. Large agricultural subsidies, meanwhile, have turned many farmers toward the right, where they resent environmental restrictions on their operations.

The Brazil election sits within a broader geopolitical pattern. Over the past two years, Donald Trump has dismantled environmental regulations in the United States and treated the Americas as his sphere of influence. Argentina has already aligned with the far right. Venezuela has faced invasion for its resources. Colombia, Peru, and Chile have all shifted sharply rightward. The Bolsonaro family has signaled alignment with this movement—Jair saluted the US flag, and his son Eduardo called for American tariffs against Brazil to "punish" the government for imprisoning his father. Brazil's intelligence agency has warned that the US attempted to interfere in the election. If Bolsonaro wins on October 25, Brazil could become the next domino in a regional collapse toward extractivism and authoritarian governance.

Lula retains a narrow path to victory if he can persuade the millions of voters who abstained in the first round. But the odds favor Bolsonaro. No first-round leader in a Brazilian presidential runoff has ever failed to win. Most eliminated candidates were right-wing, meaning their supporters are more likely to shift to Bolsonaro. The question now is not just whether Lula can hold power, but whether, if Bolsonaro wins, Brazil's democratic institutions and the Amazon itself can survive intact.