Italy Made Raves Illegal. People Are Partying Anyway.

Bologna is home to Italy’s most prominent university and its large youth population means it’s no stranger to a party, but this rave was for a different cause. In December, a rightwing coalition government led by Giorgia Meloni passed the so-called “decreto anti-rave”, which punishes those who organise raves of more than 50 people with up to six years jail time and fines up to €10,000. The controversial new law also authorises the surveillance of suspected organisers and enables the police to tap their phones.

Italy has had a thriving rave scene since the early 90s, when collectives hosted parties in factories abandoned after the industrial crisis. With its roots in community and freedom of expression, the Italian scene became a safe haven for British collectives fleeing restrictive laws imposed by the 1995 Justice Bill Act and catalysed Italy’s free party era – which still appears to be holding up, despite Meloni’s best efforts. 

Ahead of Liberation Day on the 25th of April, which celebrates the end of Nazi fascism in Italy, a group of organisers calling themselves Smash Repression organised a rave in Bologna to protest the new decree and Meloni’s policies more generally. 

One organiser from Smash Repression Bologna, who goes by the name “Gavi” for security reasons, told VICE: “We want to send the message that we refuse the anti-rave decree. We believe it’s totally unconstitutional. It’s been passed to dismantle freedom of expression and stop us from gathering in public spaces. By repressing the free parties and festivals in Italy they are trying to criminalise the people outside their narrow perception of what normality is.”

The political uproar around rave culture in Italy can be traced back to 2021, when a British citizen drowned while swimming in a lake near an illegal rave. Despite the family clarifying that this was an unrelated accident, the man’s death was connected to the event and media hysteria soon followed, focussing on the drug use and vandalism of public property associated with these parties.

At the protest in Bologna, Syria, a 19-year-old raver from Puglia, was dancing with her friends in glittery eye makeup and a blue bralette. In contrast to the Italian media’s usual description of raves, Syria described the atmosphere at today’s party as “beautiful”. 

“It’s super calm and I feel that I can be myself without judgement,” she says. “This is a really good way to fight for our rights without interfering too much with the rest of society: We are just playing music and dancing.”

Syria isn’t a fan of Meloni, who came to power in 2022: “The younger generation are always forgotten by her and treated like shit, our rights aren’t important to her.”

The decreto anti-rave is an obvious threat to rave culture in Italy, but there are concerns that its punitiveness and vague definition of what constitutes a rave will also curb personal freedoms and the right to protest.

Nicolò Bussolati, a criminal lawyer based in Turin, has defended a number of people accused of organising raves and says the harsh new legislation will have detrimental impacts on his clients’ lives. 

“The new legislation [spreads] the wrong idea that people who organise and participate in raves are very serious criminals and should be imprisoned,” he tells VICE. “Indeed, there can be drugs at raves, as there are in clubs or festivals. But most of the time, they are nothing but very young people that want to meet and dance.”

“I believe Italy has much more severe problems in which to spend its time, money and energy than criminalising raves in such a violent manner.” 

Saturday’s rave was largely peaceful, with police walking behind the final soundsystem – a beast called “Garage Systems” playing a mixture of heavy bass and dubby sounds –  in the procession.

Harm reduction was also a central aspect of the parade. On social media prior to the event, Smash Repression urged partygoers to seek out help if they were in danger or were being harassed. Dedicated helpers wore red armbands to make themselves visible. In between the trucks, ravers could find a van ran by Lab 57 to get medical help or quickly and anonymously test their drugs for free. 

But raves like this are about much more than dancing to the music. For many, they provide a refuge for those who feel excluded by mainstream society and unsafe in traditional music venues. 

Martina, 22, is from Faenza but has come to Bologna to study. She was at the rave to dance with her new family of like-minded friends and says that raves offer her a chance to dance without being objectified. “I realised [this] is a place I can listen to music and not be harassed,” she explains. “Often in Italy, women pay less to get into clubs. I then become part of the fun package for a man, I become an object. This is not the case in the raves – it’s free fun where people don’t profit off your body.”

Martina recently realised she was a victim of revenge porn after her nudes were shared without her consent by people from her hometown. The friends and community she found in the rave scene in Bologna helped give her the strength to take legal action against her abusers. 

“We know the Italian system doesn’t work for us,” she tells VICE, “so by going to these parties which are often in the name of uplifting women, we can be part of a political act resisting the patriarchy and government oppression.”

In the liminal space where raving and government resistance intertwines, the authorities will find it hard to draw the line between the two and enforce the law without curtailing the right to protest. If there was one clear message sent by Bologna in April, it was this: You can’t stop the party.