Dear FO° Reader,

Geneva has had an impressively hot week, the kind that makes one want to sit under a tree and pray for some breeze, or by the lake and catch up with some reading. Which is exactly what I was doing when I stumbled onto a story that I think matters well beyond this small city.

Geneva is older than Switzerland

As a self-governing entity, Geneva predates what we now know as Switzerland. While the first four cantons — member states of Switzerland — technically signed a treaty in 1291, Geneva had already existed as a city from the Middle Ages until the end of the 18th century. It went through centuries of bishops and dukes of Savoy, became a Calvinist Republic under John Calvin and was briefly annexed by Napoleon’s France. On September 12, 1814, the Genevan Republic was finally admitted to the ranks of the Swiss cantons. The official name is still “The Republic and Canton of Geneva.” It’s a serious distinction, but let’s see if it holds up to its etymology: res publica (the public affair).

The world’s most direct democracy is living a paradox

Switzerland is often considered the gold standard of democratic participation. Yet in the last federal elections in October 2023, only 47% of eligible voters nationwide turned out. In Geneva, the situation is even more stark: Turnout plummeted to just 30%. In 1933, voter turnout was a whopping 81%, and it has since decreased, slowly but surely. Research hypothesizes a negative correlation between the frequency of federal elections and voter turnout, pointing to voter fatigue. But beyond fatigue, I observe a deeper cynicism: Many people feel that voting doesn’t change the outcome, that a “ruling caste” decides regardless and that younger generations feel their priorities — climate, food security, inequality — are ignored.

If we do the math, considering that turnout in Geneva is a mere 30% — well below the national average — the elected government ends up with a genuine mandate from perhaps less than 20% voting residents. This is before counting the people who can’t vote at all, such as recent immigrants and those under 18. They live here, pay taxes, use schools and hospitals, but have no say in how the res publica allocates its resources.

A citizens’ assembly: proposed, then canceled

Against this backdrop, a group of researchers and civil society organizations started asking an uncomfortable question: Why, in this model democracy, do so few people actually participate? And what can be done about it? Their answer was a citizens’ assembly: 100 randomly selected residents who would meet, learn, deliberate and make concrete proposals. The project was led by the Canton’s Bureau of Integration and Citizenship, alongside the University of Geneva’s InCite institute, and was designed to address declining voter participation. More than 900 citizens had signed up. Enthusiasm was real.

And then, on February 13, 2026, the very day the Grand Conseil was celebrating its 500th anniversary, Le Centre and the Parti Libéral-Radical (Liberal Radical Party, or PLR) filed a resolution to cancel the assembly, just one month before its planned launch. The parliament voted to kill it. Les Verts-Geneva (The Green Party) called it “a fine irony” — celebrating 500 years of democracy by shutting down a democratic experiment. In their official statement to the Grand Conseil, Les Verts-Geneva argued that the cancellation represented a missed opportunity to address declining civic engagement.

Critics in parliament, including representatives from Le Centre and the PLR, argued the assembly “rests on no specific mandate clearly defining its status, role, limits, and articulation with existing democratic institutions.” While procedural rigor is vital, one must ask: Is this a heartfelt concern for democratic integrity, or a convenient shield against experimentation? After all, few major public projects begin with a perfectly defined budget and scope from day one. Demanding absolute clarity before allowing citizens to deliberate seems less like a defense of democracy and more like a refusal to let the public define its own process.

One might note that demanding perfect clarity on mandates and budgets before launching any civic project is a standard that, if applied universally, would stall countless initiatives. The question remains: is this procedural rigor, or a convenient barrier to experimentation?

Sources: Tribune de Genève, Verts-ge

A democracy that listens, yet rarely changes its mind
 
The debate is far from over. A public forum is scheduled for June 10 at 6:15 pm in Salle MS160, Uni Mail, on exactly this question: Is citizen deliberation a threat to democracy or its remedy? (“Délibération citoyenne: menace ou remède pour la démocratie?”) At this forum, three elected members of the Grand Conseil will confront each other’s visions live. If you’re in Geneva, go.

And to Professor Matteo Gianni, Dr. Victor Sanchez-Mazas and Professor Nenad Stojanović: We’d love to have you on this blog. Not to relitigate February 13, but to talk about the bigger picture: what deliberative democracy actually looks like in practice, what the evidence says and what comes next when a parliament says no. Would you be up for an interview? You can reach us in the comments below or find us on LinkedIn.

The debate isn’t over. It’s just moved venues.

Avec mes meilleurs messages,

Roberta Campani

P.S. For those who caught the wink in the margins: Yes, I’m an anarchist in disguise.

Here’s the subtext I couldn’t quite say outright: The state loves to celebrate its own longevity — 500 years of “democracy,” they say — while simultaneously strangling the only thing that could actually breathe new life into it. We’re told that citizens need a “mandate” to speak, that their assemblies must be preapproved, their budgets predefined, their roles prescripted. But who gave the state the mandate to decide what counts as a legitimate voice? The irony is delicious: A republic that calls itself res publica spends its energy ensuring the public has no say in how it’s run.

So, when the parliament kills a citizens’ assembly on the very day it celebrates its own birthday, it’s not just bad politics — it’s a confession. It admits that the system isn’t designed for people; it’s designed for power. And if the only way to get a real conversation going is to sneak it past the gatekeepers, then maybe the disguise was worth it. After all, true democracy doesn’t ask for permission. It just happens.