In fairs, neighborhoods, and cities throughout the interior, disenchantment with the Broad Front is growing. A report by Uruguay Al Día reveals testimonies of regret from longtime Broad Front supporters. Promises weren't kept, and the bond was broken.
Disenchantment is growing among those who once staunchly defended the Broad Front.
The scene is increasingly repeated. At family lunches, at the bus stop, at the neighborhood fair, or drinking mate on the sidewalk. The disappointment is no longer hidden. “I voted for them all my life, but they no longer represent me,” says Marta, a UTU retiree, who saw her neighborhood go dark while from above they talked about rights that never came.
What was once pride and belonging has now transformed into suppressed anger or awkward silence. The Frente Amplio identity wasn't just political; it was emotional. But the disenchantment ran deep.
The Broad Front governed with a majority, social support, and decision-making power. However, instead of deepening the changes, it ended up managing like any other traditional force. Security was overwhelmed, education lost momentum, and the healthcare system began to show cracks. The popular sectors, meanwhile, endured as always.
“I defended the Front with all my heart. I went to rallies, campaigned, fought for them… now I don't even talk. I have nothing to defend,” confesses Roberto, a bricklayer from La Paz. “The kids have no future, odd jobs are gone, and the only thing that goes up is groceries and electricity.”
Roberto, a bricklayer from La Paz, shares his disillusionment with the Broad Front after years of activism and unfulfilled promises.
According to a report by journalists from Uruguay Al Día , this sentiment is not isolated. In Montevideo neighborhoods, coastal cities, and inland towns, accounts of regret are repeated. Former activists, teachers, young people, and retirees all agree on one thing: the promises remained mere speeches, not deeds.
Agrarian reform never arrived. Decent housing remained on paper. Transformative education was promised during the campaign but never materialized. Meanwhile, many leaders settled into positions of power, distancing themselves from everyday reality.
Laura, a young woman who works as a cashier to fund her studies at UDELAR, puts it bluntly: “They promised us inclusion, but youth unemployment never decreased. They talked to us about the future, but they left us with debt and frustration.”
Laura, a cashier and university student, recounts how unemployment and lack of opportunities marked her generation despite promises of inclusion.
The survey data show a pattern: disenchantment is felt even among people who still vote for the Frente out of habit, but no longer believe in its leaders. "I'm tired of waiting," said a Paso de los Toros resident interviewed in the same report.
A resident of Paso de los Toros expresses his exhaustion after years of waiting for answers that never came from the Broad Front.
The political force still holds sway at the polls. But behind closed doors, the erosion is real. Connections with the grassroots are frayed, self-criticism arrived late, and new faces are repeating old formulas.
Can trust be rebuilt? Perhaps. But it won't be with slogans or plenary sessions. People want actions. Because just talking isn't enough anymore. Promises carry weight. And time is running out.