The pristine streets of Geneva, usually a picture of diplomatic calm, became a theatre of confrontation yesterday. As world leaders convened for the G7 summit, the city's affluent facade was shattered by the sound of breaking glass and the acrid smell of tear gas. This was not the first time protesters have clashed with Swiss police during a major summit, but the intensity of the violence suggests a deeper societal fissure.
For hours, black-clad anarchists and more moderate activists alike swarmed the designated protest zones, their chants dissected by the rhythmic thud of police batons. The 'human cost' of such high-level gatherings is often glossed over in the headlines, but here it was writ large. A student nurse from Lausanne told me she was pepper-sprayed while trying to document the police response. 'We just want them to listen to the climate emergency,' she said, her voice shaking. 'Instead, they treat us like criminals.'
The 'cultural shift' is palpable. What was once a predictable dance of disruption and containment has become a raw expression of generational anger. The protesters are younger, better organised, and less willing to accept the terms of the debate. They do not see the G7 as a solution, but as a symbol of the very systems they wish to dismantle. The Swiss police, accustomed to orderly protests, seemed caught off guard by the ferocity.
On the ground, the class dynamics are unmistakable. The summit delegates arrived in armoured limousines, insulated from the chaos behind a perimeter of steel fences. Meanwhile, the demonstrators, many from working-class neighbourhoods, bore the brunt of the crackdown. This is not a conflict of ideas alone, but one of access and power. The streets of Geneva, for a brief moment, reflected a broader truth: that our global governance structures are increasingly out of step with the people they claim to represent.
As the tear gas drifted over the lake, the irony was unavoidable. This was a city of peace, hosting a summit of the world's wealthiest nations, yet the only language spoken was violence. The aftermath will likely see finger-pointing and calls for reform. But the scars on Geneva's body politic will take longer to heal. The real question is whether the leaders inside those conference rooms will heed the message from the streets.
