Brazilian progressive leader and incumbent president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva made history last night, defeating far-right Flávio Bolsonaro of the Liberal Party in the second round after coming in second in the first round.

The results were awaited with bated breath after a judge ordered polls to be open for two more hours following complaints from voters who claimed they had been unable to reach polling places due to transportation problems. First the Workers’ Party (PT), and then the Liberal Party (PL), requested the extension, which paused the vote count until 7:00 pm in Brasília, the capital.

With 51.79% of the valid votes, the former union leader, metalworker, and head of the Workers’ Party staged a historic comeback against Bolsonaro, who lost the initial momentum he had in the first round and barely reached 48.21%. This is the first time a candidate who finished second in Brazil’s first round has staged a comeback and won the election in the runoff.

Bolsonaro entered the runoff with a relative – though significant – lead following his victory in the first round of voting on October 4, where he received 47.03% (approximately 56,104,503 votes), while Lula, to the surprise of many, came in second with 45.16% (53,879,538 votes).

In other words, there was a gap of nearly 3 million votes between the two candidates that seemed very difficult for Lula to overcome, especially considering that the remaining votes were split among candidates who were mostly from the right and center-right – a fact that led many to believe that Bolsonaro, the son of former president and currently imprisoned Jair Bolsonaro, would win the runoff.

But Lula, a true legend of Brazilian politics (a labor leader during the dictatorship who won the presidency three times), achieved the unthinkable. Between the first and second rounds of voting, he managed to gain more than 10 million votes compared to the first round – an astronomical figure, considering that Bolsonaro barely managed to gain some 3.7 million votes.

Lula’s victory

After it was clear that Lula’s victory was irreversible, the Brazilian streets were filled with people wearing the traditional red of the Workers’ Party. However, the victory was celebrated by a sort of broad coalition that had formed to overturn the result – one that spanned the political spectrum from classical left-wing parties and movements, to progressive liberals, and even some center-right groups that saw Bolsonaro as a threat to democracy.

In his speech marking his fourth presidential victory, Lula said: “I want to thank the Brazilian people – those who have stood by me for so long – and express my gratitude for the generosity of Brazil’s young people … We are going to change the way this country is governed … we are going to involve the people more. Digital communication will play a very significant role in this administration. I will deliver the best presidential term this country has ever seen.”

“Following our victory, we will have to discuss a new way of governing this country. The people’s participation in this campaign – the students, women, and workers who took to the streets – will compel us to find a new way of governing. This country will never be the same again,” said the reelected president.

Lula also stated that the debates against Bolsonaro and the PL campaign were riddled with lies and “denialism”: “I never thought a person could lie so much in this country, with such brazenness, as if there were not a single shred of humanity within him.”

Finally, he also addressed the problems his campaign faced regarding the dissemination of its messages on social media. The PT repeatedly denounced that the major social media platforms hindered or outright prevented the spread of its political messages, while Bolsonaro’s messages faced no such issues.

Is Meta meddling in Brazil's elections? With Sunday's runoff neck and neck, new reporting raises serious questions.

The pattern is hard to ignore: Lula's campaign was blocked from boosting Instagram posts for nearly 24 hours, his ad account was previously restricted, and… pic.twitter.com/DVjDWJa7Xw

— BreakThrough News (@BTnewsroom) October 23, 2026

Hence, he suggested placing limits on the power of the major corporations behind social media platforms – a stance he has taken on other occasions and which has caused friction with tech giants: “We cannot fail to recognize that a crime in the digital world must be treated the same as a crime in real life. We cannot have monstrous companies of this size – which make billions without paying taxes to our country – trying to alter election results,” Lula said in his victory speech.

Bolsonaro’s reaction

For his part, far-right politician Flávio Bolsonaro said he “rejects” the election results and announced that he will seek to have the election annulled: “We are going to consult with our legal team; we are going to request that these elections be annulled. I will not accept that the rules of the game have been changed in the middle of the game – once again – by Lula’s friends on the Federal Supreme Court.”

Bolsonaro, who delivered his speech to his supporters, was referring to the extension of voting hours. According to his team, the extension was ordered after the polling stations had closed, which, they claimed, violates Brazilian electoral rules – even though the PL itself had also requested the extension.

This is not the first time that Bolsonaro’s supporters have rejected Lula’s victory. In 2022, it was Jair Bolsonaro who refused to acknowledge his defeat. Months later, during Lula’s inauguration, hundreds of Bolsonaro supporters violently stormed several government buildings, after which investigations were launched into an alleged attempted coup d’état. One of those found guilty in the case was Jair Bolsonaro himself, who is currently serving a sentence for that crime.

However, it will be difficult for Bolsonaro’s allegations to gain traction in Brazil’s immediate future. With the exception of Argentina’s far-right politician Milei, South American countries – through their heads of state and foreign ministries – have publicly congratulated Lula on his victory, which amounts to a de facto recognition of his win.

However, the Bolsonaros still have the Trump administration as a last resort, as it has publicly supported the PL candidate, just as it did with his father in the past. This is the first time since Trump began his second term that a candidate he supported in a Latin American country has failed to win, which still raises questions about what Washington’s stance will be regarding Lula’s historic victory – a victory in which, against all odds, he managed to defeat Washington’s candidate and thus halted a wave of far-right victories in Latin America.

The week before October 25 in Brazil was frenetic. It appeared that every one of the over 200 million Brazilians had a political opinion about the presidential election. The country was fundamentally polarized. Polls showed that the vote was going to be tight, with most polls favoring the challenger Flávio Bolsonaro, son of the former president Jair Bolsonaro, and the standard bearer of the far right of a special type. But the incumbent Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, known as Lula and president of Brazil from 2003 to 2011 and then since 2023, would not allow the polls to stop him. He traveled the length and breadth of the country, holding massive and energetic rallies to mobilize people to vote. In the first round, 21% of the voters did not turn out in a process that is otherwise compulsory (and a large section who did vote left the presidential section either unmarked or spoiled). Only 2.2 million ballots separated Bolsonaro (who won 47% in the first round) from Lula of the 158.7 million registered voters. To win between October 4 (first round) and October 25 (second round), Lula had to either attract people who had voted for Bolsonaro or those who had not voted or spoiled their ballots. No other candidate had turned around such a deficit in Brazil’s modern history. But Lula did it.

Streets

In the three weeks between the first and second rounds, Lula and his team motivated millions of people onto the streets in the large cities of Brazil, but also in several smaller, but significant towns. These enormous mobilizations created a sense that Lula would overcome the mathematical disadvantage presented by the voting numbers after the first round. All psephological analyses showed that Bolsonaro would cruise through in the second round, which would have indicated the impossibility for Lula. But the left did not rest on this handicap but went on the offensive.

In the first round, Bolsonaro finished 2.22 million votes ahead, but in the runoff, Lula finished with 4.43 million votes ahead. The margin moved by 6.66 million votes. These votes came from the large cities: the 319 cities with more than 100,000 inhabitants, home to 57% of Brazil’s population, delivered 3.89 of the 6.66 million of the turnaround. Lula’s vote grew more in municipalities that are more evangelical, richer, whiter, more schooled, and more urban. This meant that he ate substantially into Bolsonaro’s base, which was something that surprised even the Lula team. The key to the turnaround was the mass mobilizations driven by the social movements, with the Landless Rural Workers’ Movement (MST) in the lead.

Advances

Across his three terms, Lula has presided over an extraordinary advance in the social conditions of the Brazilian people. Bolsa Família, increases in the minimum wage, the expansion of public universities, and support for family farming brought food, income, and opportunity into households that the ruling class had long treated as disposable. These achievements changed millions of lives and established that poverty could be confronted through public action. Yet the political formula that made these advances possible has reached its limits. Lula sought to improve the lives of the poor while accommodating the power of finance, agribusiness, and the dominant sections of Brazilian capital. During his first two terms, favorable international conditions created room for this accommodation. But redistribution without a corresponding transformation of economic power left the foundations of inequality intact, allowing the beneficiaries of the old order to retain the means to obstruct change and reverse its gains.

In his third term, fiscal restrictions, expensive credit, and dependence on conservative parliamentary forces have narrowed the space for reform. Social programs remain indispensable, but they cannot by themselves overcome insecure employment, household indebtedness, inadequate public services, or the concentration of land and wealth. The exhaustion lies in a governing strategy whose compromises increasingly obstruct the fulfilment of its promises. Lula’s personal authority cannot indefinitely bridge the distance between popular expectations and the concessions demanded by the powerful. A renewed project will require the organized strength of workers, peasants, and residents of the urban peripheries, the very people who form Lula’s base, with an agenda of agrarian reform, public investment, industrial development, and democratic control over finance. The movements that filled the streets must acquire greater power to shape the government’s direction. Defeating the far right opens that possibility, but securing the social gains of the Lula years will require confronting the structures that continually threaten them.

Defeat of Trump

US President Donald Trump, his vice president JD Vance, and members of the Brazilian diaspora in Miami put an immense amount of effort into defeating Lula. Brazil, which makes up half the landmass of South America, and is the largest economy in Latin America, stands out against the wave of far-right governments that now dominate the Americas. Interference in the Brazilian elections is now an acknowledged fact, with Meta cutting off Lula’s accounts at a crucial stage of the contest and other reports of funding and social media intervention.

Trump had hoped that Bolsonaro would win in Brazil so that he can then strengthen his Shield of the Americas process that began in Miami in March 2026. This process was presented by Trump as an institutional form to coordinate security but also for the suffocation of the popular movements and the left. Lula’s victory has blocked Trump’s path to exercise the Monroe Doctrine. It has also meant that Trump will not be able to so easily access the critical minerals in Brazil or to dominate the new oil find in the basin of the Amazon delta.

Despite the obstacles faced by Lula, his victory has been able to show that the far right is not invincible.

Vijay Prashad is an Indian historian and journalist. He is the author of forty books, including Washington Bullets, Red Star Over the Third World, The Darker Nations: A People’s History of the Third World, The Poorer Nations: A Possible History of the Global South, and How the International Monetary Fund Suffocates Africa, written with Grieve Chelwa. He is the executive director of Tricontinental: Institute for Social Research, the chief correspondent for Globetrotter, and the chief editor of LeftWord Books (New Delhi). He also appeared in the films Shadow World (2016) and Two Meetings (2017).

This article was produced by Globetrotter.

From the 17th to the 20th century, Ukrainian lands were split between empires and states. Their rulers tried to assimilate Ukrainians and block their self-determination by going after what set them apart: their language and culture.

Nobody has an exact count of the bans. Historian Pavlo Hai-Nyzhnyk says there were more than 100 and that the real number is likely higher, because governors issued local bans too.

These measures differed in purpose and reach. Some restricted publishing, schooling, or official use; others suppressed cultural institutions or pushed assimilation. Most served the forced Russification of Ukrainians in the Russian Empire and the USSR. The timeline below is a selection of documented events, not a count of bans.

Russia has not stopped. Since 2014, schooling in Ukrainian has collapsed in the territories it occupies, and in 2025 it removed Ukrainian from the federal school programs it imposes there.

Here are some of the most important restrictions on Ukrainian language and cultural life imposed by the regimes ruling over Ukraine.

17th century

1627: Muscovy. Moscow church authorities condemn Kyrylo Trankvilion-Stavrovetskyi’s Didactic Gospel, a collection of sermons printed in Ukraine in 1619, and order copies burned in Moscow.

1697: Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. An act requires tribunal and court decisions in the Grand Duchy of Lithuania to be written in Polish, displacing Ruthenian in those courts.

18th century

1720: Russian Tsardom. Peter I’s decree restricts the Kyiv and Chernihiv presses to approved reprints of church books and requires them to conform to Russian editions, suppressing local textual and linguistic differences.

1728: Russian Empire. Under the Decisive Points (Reshytelni punkty), the legal texts used in the Hetmanate’s courts are to be translated into Russian and compiled into a single code.

1730s: Russian Empire. Under Empress Anna, Kyiv’s archbishop is instructed to replace older locally printed church books with Moscow editions.

1769: Russian Empire. The Holy Synod refuses the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra permission to print primers in the local language and tells it not to submit such requests again.

1775: Russian Empire. A Russian army destroys the Zaporozhian Sich, the Cossacks’ last stronghold and one of Ukraine’s own political institutions.

1780s: Russian Empire. Samuil Myslavskyi, metropolitan of Kyiv from 1783, insists on literary Russian as the only language of instruction at the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy.

1789: Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. The Commission of National Education orders the Ukrainian parish schools of Right-Bank Ukraine Polonized.

19th century

1847: Russian Empire. After suppressing the Cyril and Methodius Brotherhood, a secret society that called for a federation of free Slavic peoples, the authorities ban and withdraw from sale specified works by Taras Shevchenko, Panteleimon Kulish, and Mykola Kostomarov.

1859: Austrian Empire. Austrian officials back a plan to replace the Cyrillic alphabet used for Ukrainian in Galicia with a Latin one. Ukrainian opposition defeats the plan in what became known as the “alphabet war.”

1862: Russian Empire. The authorities close the Sunday schools, free schools for working adults and young people, including Ukrainian ones. They begin reopening under tighter control in 1864.

1863: Russian Empire. Interior Minister Pyotr Valuev’s circular tells censors not to approve Ukrainian religious, school, and popular-reading books, while still allowing fiction under censorship. It claims that most Little Russians themselves argue that “there was not, is not, and cannot be any special Little Russian language.”

1864: Russian Empire. The 1864 statute requires Russian as the teaching language in the elementary schools it regulates.

1869: Austria-Hungary. Polish becomes the internal language of administration and the courts in Galicia. The 1867 school arrangements had already strengthened Polish dominance, while leaving limited room for Ukrainian-language schooling.

1876: Russian Empire. Alexander II’s secret Ems Ukaz severely restricts Ukrainian publishing and bans Ukrainian publications from abroad, Ukrainian stage performances and public readings, and Ukrainian lyrics printed with music. Exceptions allow historical documents in their original spelling and fiction in Russian spelling under censorship.

1881: Russian Empire. New rules ease parts of the Ems Ukaz: Ukrainian plays may be staged with a governor’s special permission. Theater troupes performing only in Ukrainian stay banned.

1883: Russian Empire. Kyiv Governor-General Aleksandr Drenteln bars Ukrainian theater troupes from performing in the Kyiv, Podillia, Volhynia, Poltava, and Chernihiv governorates.

1895: Russian Empire. The censorship authorities ban the publication of Ukrainian children’s books.

20th century

1910: Russian Empire. A circular from Pyotr Stolypin’s interior ministry tells governors to refuse registration to non-Russian national societies, Ukrainian ones included, and to review existing ones for closure. Kyiv’s Prosvita is dissolved the same year.

1914: Russian Empire. The authorities ban public celebrations of Taras Shevchenko’s centenary. After the empire enters World War I, they close most Ukrainian periodicals, including the Kyiv daily Rada.

1914–15, 1916–17: Russian Empire. Russian occupation authorities suppress Ukrainian institutions and publications in Galicia and Bukovyna. The first occupation brings mass arrests and deportations, the destruction of Ukrainian books, and the arrest of Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytskyi.

1923: Soviet Ukraine. Dmytro Lebid, second secretary of the Communist Party of Ukraine, sets out the “theory of the struggle of two cultures,” which holds that the Russian culture of the city is more advanced than the Ukrainian culture of the village. The party rejects it and adopts Ukrainization the same year.

1924: Poland. Three laws of 31 July make Polish the state language of administration and the courts, keep limited rights for minority languages, and set school rules that favor Polish-Ukrainian bilingual schools over separate Ukrainian ones.

1924: Romania. The primary education law requires citizens of Romanian origin who have “lost their mother tongue” to send their children to Romanian schools. Ukrainian historians say it was applied to Ukrainians in Bukovyna.

1925: Poland. The Lviv Underground Ukrainian University, which had taught clandestinely since 1921, stops teaching after police raids and the Polish state’s refusal to recognize it.

1926: USSR. In a letter to Kaganovich and the Ukrainian Politburo, Stalin attacks Oleksandr Shumskyi and Mykola Khvylovyi and rejects Ukrainizing Russian workers “from above,” while still backing controlled Ukrainization of official institutions.

1932–33: USSR. A secret resolution of 14 December 1932 orders the Ukrainian-language paperwork and press of the North Caucasus switched to Russian at once and its schools prepared for teaching in Russian. In Soviet Ukraine, it puts Ukrainization under tighter party control and demands purges of “nationalist” elements. The repression of 1933 dismantles Ukrainization.

1938: USSR. A decree of 13 March makes Russian a compulsory subject in the non-Russian schools of the national republics and regions.

1947: Poland. In Operation Vistula, Polish authorities forcibly resettle about 150,000 Ukrainians to northern and western Poland, under an assimilation policy that sought to keep them below 10% of any locality.

1958–59: USSR. The school reform expands parents’ choice of teaching language and makes the study of Ukrainian optional in Russian-language schools in Soviet Ukraine.

1960s–70s: Romania and Poland. Romania nearly eliminates Ukrainian-language schooling from the mid-1960s. In Poland, Ukrainian schools and Ukrainian classes shrink.

1972: USSR. The party’s resolution on the USSR’s 50th anniversary promotes the “new historical community, the Soviet people,” an idea first voiced in 1961. Soviet ethnographers wrote that the spread of Russian among non-Russian peoples played the paramount role in forming this community.

1978: USSR. The USSR Council of Ministers orders wider study of Russian in the union republics. Ukraine’s implementing resolution of 2 November requires Russian from first grade in Ukrainian-language schools from the 1980/81 school year.

1983: USSR. A resolution of 26 May gives specified teachers of Russian in non-Russian schools in villages and small towns a 15% pay raise from 1984.

1984: USSR. The school reform resolution of 12 April adds two to three hours of Russian a week in grades 2 to 11 of non-Russian schools.

1989: USSR. The Communist Party’s party platform of 20 September calls for making Russian, by law, the language of the whole country alongside the republics’ state languages.

1990: USSR. The April 1990 law on the languages of the peoples of the USSR makes Russian the official language of the Soviet Union, while letting the republics set their own state languages.

21st century

2014–18: Crimea. Under Russian occupation, schooling in Ukrainian collapses. In 2013/14, 12,694 children studied in Ukrainian in 7 schools and 829 classes; by 2017/18, 318 children did, in one school and 13 classes, the UN human rights office reports, noting the figures conflict in places.

2020: DNR and LNR. The so-called DNR votes to amend its “constitution” on 6 March, dropping Ukrainian as a “state language” and leaving only Russian. The so-called LNR does the same in June.

2022: Occupied Kherson and Zaporizhzhia oblasts. Russia’s Education Ministry says on 12 August that schools in newly occupied areas will teach in Russian, with Ukrainian allowed only as an optional “native” language. Occupation authorities then cap Ukrainian at three hours a week, Human Rights Watch reports.

2023: Occupied Donetsk and Luhansk oblasts. Russia removes nearly all Ukrainian literature from local libraries, most likely destroying it, Ukraine’s National Resistance Center reports. The so-called LNR publishes a list of banned books.

2024: International Court of Justice. On 31 January, the court ruled, 13 votes to 2, that Russia violated the UN convention against racial discrimination in how it ran school education in Ukrainian in occupied Crimea.

2025: Russia. Education Ministry Order No. 729, in force since 15 December, removes Ukrainian language and literature from Russia’s federal primary and lower-secondary programs, the UN human rights office reports. Russia imposes these programs on schools in the occupied territories, where about 582,000 children study, the Almenda center says.

What we changed in October 2026

Editor’s note, 27 October 2026: We first published this timeline in 2017. Like many lists of bans on Ukrainian that circulate online, it repeated some claims that have no document behind them. In October 2026, we went back to historians’ work and to the decrees themselves.

We removed about fifteen entries. Most we could not confirm; a few were not about language. We corrected others where the documents say something different: some bans had exceptions, some dates were off by a year, and the end of Ukrainization came in 1932–33. We replaced the old count of 60 bans, which we could not trace, with a historian’s estimate. And we added what Russia has done to the Ukrainian language in the territories it has occupied since 2014.

If you have a document for something we left out, write to us.

Koreans do not want to do Uncle Sam’s dirty work any longer, and they do not want their country to be dragooned into a proxy war against their Asian neighbor, China.

Join us on Telegram, X, and VK.

Contact us: info@strategic-culture.su

South Korea is rebelling against U.S. dominance. It is witnessing a formidable opposition movement against the United States’ historic control over the Asian country’s military forces.

There is also growing pressure on the South Korean government to refuse demands by U.S. President Donald Trump for Korean troops to deploy in the Persian Gulf.

A major driver of this surging opposition movement is the widely held concern that Washington is maneuvering South Korea to fight a war with China.

Political analyst KJ Noh explains that the Korean people perceive the United States as positioning their country as a proxy to fight an eventual war with China, in a similar way to how Ukraine is being used as a front line to provoke Russia.

“The U.S. empire is making South Korea into the next Ukraine,” says KJ Noh. “It is weaponizing South Korea.”

This is analogous to how Ukraine was groomed and weaponized since 2014 to serve as a proxy for the U.S. and NATO to confront Russia.

He points out that China has always been the main target for American imperial planners seeking to extend U.S. hegemony. Pentagon Generals have openly spoken about going to war with China since 2025. Several strategic documents cite the imperative of confronting China for the U.S. to pursue its ambitions of global dominance.

Recently, the American commander in South Korea, General Xavier Brunson, referred to the country as “a dagger pointed at China” and “an unsinkable U.S. aircraft carrier.” Such brazen comments have sparked even broader opposition.

KJ Noh contends that U.S. strategists assumed defeating Russia and Iran would be relatively easy, paving the way for the main target: China. However, the protracted war in Ukraine and Trump’s debacle in the Persian Gulf have delayed the war plan against China.

Nevertheless, Korean people understand that when the U.S. empire gets around to attacking China, their country will be deployed as Uncle Sam’s proxy.

Historically, for the past 76 years, Washington has exerted full control over the South Korean military. This was enabled by the U.S. using fascist collaborators from the Second World War to control South Korea – a legacy that persists among the deep state in South Korea.

KJ Noh surveys a history of genocidal violence perpetrated by the U.S. empire in South Korea to wipe out political opposition movements. The scale of mass murder and mass graves is shocking and hardly known in the West.

Despite the brutal oppression over many decades, there is still a defiant consciousness among Koreans who refuse to be vassals of the U.S.

Koreans do not want to do Uncle Sam’s dirty work any longer, and they do not want their country to be dragooned into a proxy war against their Asian neighbor, China, with which much of the Korean economy has beneficial relations.

This is why Koreans are demanding that the United States finally hand over Operational Control of the country’s military. President Lee Jae-myung reflects the popular will by calling on Washington to comply. It is also why the Korean people and government are refusing Trump’s peevish calls for deployment in the Persian Gulf. Given the history of loyal Korean service in U.S. wars, this latest defiance is a watershed in relations.