In the crisp November air of Croatia’s historic streets, a wave of defiance swept through Zagreb and coastal cities, as thousands raised their voices against a creeping tide of far-right extremism. This wasn’t just a rally—it was a collective stand for memory, justice, and a future untainted by the ghosts of World War II. As Europe grapples with populist undercurrents, Croatia’s grassroots uprising highlights a burgeoning civic resolve: ordinary citizens reclaiming their narrative from revisionist fringes. With chants of “We are all anti-fascists” reverberating, these marches signal a pivotal moment in Balkan politics, where historical reckoning meets modern mobilization.
Why WWII Revisionism Is Reigniting Croatia’s Fault Lines
Croatia’s history is a tapestry woven with triumph and tragedy, but recent efforts to romanticize the Ustaše—the fascist regime that ruled the Nazi puppet state of Independent State of Croatia (NDH) from 1941 to 1945—have torn at its seams. The Ustaše’s brutal campaign against Serbs, Jews, Roma, and dissenting Croats claimed hundreds of thousands of lives in concentration camps and massacres, yet today, symbols of this era are creeping back into public life.
In July, a massive concert by ultra-nationalist singer Marko Perković Thompson drew hundreds of thousands to Zagreb, where fans unfurled Ustaše salutes and banners. Weeks later, two parliament members echoed the gesture from the assembly floor. By October, a hosted round table minimized victim counts from WWII death camps, sparking outrage. And in November, masked intruders stormed a Serb cultural event in Split, hurling the infamous salute at attendees.
These aren’t isolated incidents; they’re symptoms of a broader nationalist revival straining Croatia’s fragile ethnic ties, especially with its Serb minority—a scar from the 1990s independence war. As one participant put it, “We currently have a problem with widespread revival of Ustaša ideology.” This historical amnesia isn’t just academic; it’s fueling division, eroding democratic norms, and testing Croatia’s EU integration. For a nation at the crossroads of Central Europe and the Balkans, confronting these shadows is essential to forging unity over division.
The Faces and Fires of the Anti-Fascist Marches
On a sunlit Sunday, Zagreb’s central boulevards pulsed with purpose as several thousand marchers converged, streaming toward the iconic main square under a towering banner: “United against Fascism.” From students to retirees, the crowd embodied Croatia’s diverse heartbeat—families pushing strollers, elders clutching faded photos of lost kin, and youth wielding megaphones amplified by smartphone streams.
The energy spilled beyond the capital to Adriatic gems like Rijeka, Pula, and Zadar, where hundreds echoed the call. “Fascists are no longer ashamed, nor do they hide,” organizers declared in a pre-march manifesto, urging resistance to “violence, historical revisionism, and intimidation.” Chants unified the throng: “We are all anti-fascists!”—a nod to partisan heroes who fought the Ustaše eight decades prior.
Personal stories cut through the spectacle. Kristijan Kralj, an electrical engineering student in Zagreb, joined to counter the “widespread revival” he’d seen on social media and streets. “It’s everywhere now,” he shared, his voice steady amid the roar. From inland Bjelovar, Dado Gazda trekked hours by bus, declaring, “The time has come to say what is bothering us, why we are worried about our country.” No arrests marred the day, and counter-demonstrations were absent, underscoring the protests’ disciplined, overwhelming presence. In an era of polarized discourse, these gatherings proved that empathy and education can outpace extremism.
How Grassroots Power Is Reshaping Croatia’s Political Horizon
At its core, this movement transcends symbolism—it’s a blueprint for democratic renewal. Organizers, drawing from anti-fascist networks and civil society groups, framed the marches as a bulwark against intimidation tactics targeting minorities. The absence of government pushback speaks volumes; while officials have condemned isolated salutes, broader inaction has emboldened critics to demand accountability—from curriculum reforms to hate speech laws.
This surge mirrors continental tremors: As far-right voices amplify in Germany, France, and Hungary, Croatia’s response underscores a proactive European ethos. By mobilizing thousands without institutional backing, citizens are pressuring lawmakers to honor EU values like minority rights and historical truth. The July concert’s aftermath, including parliamentary provocations, galvanized this outpouring—proving that cultural flashpoints can spark political awakenings.
Yet challenges persist. With ethnic Serb relations on a knife’s edge, these protests advocate for dialogue over division, envisioning a Croatia where WWII lessons fortify, rather than fracture, the social fabric. As one banner proclaimed, unity isn’t optional—it’s the antidote to authoritarian echoes.
What Croatia’s Stand Means for Europe and Beyond
These marches aren’t a fleeting flare; they’re a flare-up of enduring vigilance. By weaving personal resolve with collective action, Croatians are scripting a narrative of resilience—one that could inspire neighbors from Slovenia to Serbia. In a world where revisionism risks rewriting reality, this anti-fascist momentum champions education as empowerment, ensuring the Ustaše’s legacy remains a cautionary tale, not a rallying cry.
Democracy thrives when citizens lead. As Zagreb’s squares empty and Adriatic winds carry the echoes, the real work begins—in classrooms, parliaments, and conversations. Croatia’s awakening invites us all to ask: What histories are we honoring, and which are we healing? In the face of far-right resurgence, the answer is clear—together, unyieldingly.
