Lausanne’s Antifascist Carnival: How the City Kept the Calm – A First-Hand Account

Saturday lunchtime in Lausanne. Rain is hammering down on the cobblestones of Rue de la Mercerie, but the mood is anything but gloomy. I’m standing among a sea of colourful costumes, the beat of drums, and the unmistakable smell of roasting nuts. This day could have turned out very differently. Rumours of a possible protest in Lausanne – or more specifically, far-right marches – had the city on edge all week. You could hear whispers in the bistros, see worried looks on the faces of shop owners down by Flon. But what I’m seeing now is a city that refuses to be defeated. A “we’ll do it anyway” attitude you can almost touch.

A carnival with conviction

This is the city’s traditional antifascist carnival. You could also call it the loudest, most colourful, and at the same time most unambiguous political statement Lausanne has to offer. I remember years when these parades were smaller, almost family affairs. But today? Today, Place de la Riponne is packed. The organisers made it clear beforehand they wouldn’t shy away from provocation, but also didn’t want any violence. They described the event as one that should be “joyful and rainy” – that’s what the local preview said last week. And that’s exactly what it is.

The “Proceedings of the 14th Interdisciplinary Research Conference on Biomaterials” – yes, I know, the title sounds like it belongs to a completely different topic – also took place in the city this week. But while researchers were swapping notes on the latest in regenerative medicine in lecture halls at EPFL, what was happening out on the streets was a different kind of “coming together”. A social biomaterial, if you will. Because what holds a society together if not moments of shared expression like these?

The predicted escalation never came

In the lead-up, there was a lot of talk about “risks”. About potential confrontations between the far right and the left-wing scene. Police were present, no question. But they stayed in the background. What struck me: people weren’t here out of fear, but out of conviction. An older man wearing a homemade papier-mâché head that looked like a police commissioner winked at me and said, “They just want us to stay home. But we *are* this city.”

That’s the spirit that defines this carnival. It’s not just about partying. It’s about a Lausanne protest that shows public space won’t be handed over to those who sow hatred. I saw a lot of young people today, but also families with kids. It was a cross-section of society. And as the parades wound their way through the old town, things stayed surprisingly peaceful. A few intense conversations on the sidelines, a few muted whistles – that was it. The “Carnaval antifasciste” defied all the doomsayers.

• Atmosphere: Spirited and determined despite the rain. The bands played with full force.
• Security situation: A large police presence, but no significant incidents. De-escalation was the name of the game.
• Political message: A clear rejection of all forms of extremism. Many banners highlighted current social issues.
• The crowd: A diverse mix – from the left-alternative scene to curious tourists and long-time Vaud locals.

Lausanne remains vigilant

As the procession gradually wound down towards evening and the first bands played their final chords on the small stages down by Flon, it became clear: this day was a success for everyone who lives here. The city has shown it’s not just open to the world on paper, but in its heart. The fear that was stoked beforehand didn’t materialise.

I’ll stay at the bar a while longer, watching the aftermath. The air now smells of wet clothes and mulled wine. A little boy in a Superman costume is dragging his tired father along behind him. The streetlights cast long shadows on the wet pavement. It was a good day for Lausanne. A day that shows the city’s greatest strength isn’t confrontation, but its ability to come together – even when it’s raining. And that, I’ll raise a glass to.