Swiss Watching

by Diccon Bewes

  The SVP wasn’t the only one to falter. All the main parties lost votes, with the biggest casualty being the FDP, or Free Democrats, the founding party of modern Switzerland. Its gradual decline shows no sign of stopping and this was just another milestone on the way down. A loss of 2.6% in votes, no member for Solothurn in the Ständerat for the first time since 1848, and its president almost voted out in Ticino: he won by 58 votes. Even the Social Democrats lost a few votes (though they gained seats). With right and left sinking, it was the neue Mitte, the new centre, which rose spectacularly, rather like a political soufflé and certainly with as much hot air. The new stars were the Bürgerlich-Demokratische Partei (BDP), formed when the SVP splintered in 2007, and the centre-left Grünliberale Partei (GLP). Each passed the magic 5% mark in votes and together won 21 seats in the Nationalrat. The Swiss political balance moved sharply to the centre, perhaps signalling a return to consensus politics rather than the confrontations of the past eight years. How typically Swiss.

  And it was the new centre that helped stop the SVP winning a second seat in the Federal Council, despite its status as the largest party. Its electoral losing streak continued, not helped by choosing a candidate who had to withdraw in disgrace, and the era of SVP infallibility was over. Having ousted Christoph Blocher in 2007, Eveline Widmer Schlumpf from the BDP retained her place in the Bundesrat and was elected President. The SVP’s failure to regain a second seat led to two things: a desire for revenge, which would later help bring down the head of the Swiss National Bank, and the only joke of the elections – what’s the difference between a Smart car and the SVP? A Smart car has two seats. And some people think the Swiss have no sense of humour.

  One sad footnote of the election was that the Federal Council was once again dominated by men. Switzerland has never exactly been at the forefront of the feminist movement, so it was all the more impressive that, only 39 years after getting the vote, women had been in the majority in the Bundesrat. With the election of Simonetta Sommeruga to the Federal Council on 22 September 2010, Switzerland had joined an elite group of countries with a female-led government. However, it was a brief moment of glory for the daughters of Helvetia, one that would only last 448 days.

  After the explosive votes of 2003 and 2007, perhaps it was only natural (and only Swiss) that 2011 would be calmer and more low key, but things can be too quiet, even in Switzerland. When the high point of a campaign is the kidnapping of a goat, it’s no surprise that turnout remains below 50%. That the abduction and spraying of Zottel, the SVP mascot, was the main election story to make the news abroad says as much about Swiss politics as about foreign media coverage. The BDP–GLP breakthrough came as a surprise to some, but not as much as one result, perhaps the best of the whole election: Roger Federer won 132 votes in the Ständerat contest in Schwyz. He wasn’t standing, but his name was written in by that many voters.

  By the way, in the actual World Cup finals (which got just a little more international press coverage than the Swiss elections) the only team to beat the eventual winners was Switzerland. The Heidi Boys, a very unofficial name for the Swiss football team, won 1–0 against Spain in the group stages; Switzerland was knocked out soon afterwards and Spain went on to glory. Sometimes, in football as in politics, the early results count for nothing.

  THE SWISS WATCHING THE SWISS

  Elections aside, the other big domestic question of the past two years for me was: would the Swiss want to read a book about them written by an Englishman? The answer was immediately yes! Swiss Watching became the bestselling English book of the year. And it wasn’t only English-speaking expats who were buying it – the Swiss themselves lapped it up. Within a few weeks I was getting emails from happy readers all over Switzerland and beyond. It seems that the Swiss, like any other nation, love to discover how others see them, especially if that ‘other’ is living amongst them.

  That so many people took the time to email me was surprising. But that was nothing compared to the physical, rather than virtual, response. Positive feedback jumped out at me, no matter where I was: on the Number 9 tram in Bern, walking down a Geneva street, in a Zurich supermarket, at work. At first I wasn’t sure about this new-found openness from Swiss strangers; I couldn’t help but question what lay behind this uncharacteristic spontaneity. Maybe they thought they knew me a little after reading my book? Or having heard me on national radio or seen one of the many articles in the newspapers, they saw me as more approachable? Whatever the reasons, at a time when politics in Switzerland can seem ever more anti-foreigner, it’s refreshing and heartening that so many Swiss want to interact with this foreigner on a personal level.

  Of course, it wasn’t all roses. One man objected to what I’d said about Switzerland in the Second World War; one woman refused to buy the book because it’s dedicated to my boyfriend; another thought it should have remained a blog (not realising that the blog came much later); and a customer told me she loved the book but hated my views on immigration politics. But for every negative there were 99 positives, not least helping the Swiss laugh more in public: one person said, ‘my sudden outbreaks of laughter earned strange looks from people around me; (they must have been Swiss as well).’ And perhaps the most fascinating aspect was people agreeing with what I’d written but then stating that they were the exception. It happened at almost every event around Switzerland where I spoke or read.

  Perhaps the most common question has been: did I now feel that Switzerland was my home? As an expat, that’s always a hard one to answer. No matter how far you go and how long you stay away, the place where you grew up will always be a part of you. But equally, the longer you live in another country, especially one you love, the more it begins to feel like the right place to be.

  A TALE OF TWO HOMES

  The twenty-first century has transformed expat life. I don’t have to read three-day-old English papers, wait for letters to come in the post, or watch badly dubbed television programmes. Thanks to modern technology I can watch BBC1, read The Guardian online, text my friends and talk to my family on Skype. Living in Switzerland is actually not that different from living in Britain, except that the trains run on time, there’s no litter in the streets and the chocolate is better. If Swiss supermarkets could just start selling Ribena and golden syrup, I’d be happy.

  The funny thing is that when I do go back to Britain, it no longer feels quite the same, like I’m home but not really. I won’t get into a deep philosophical discussion – ‘Where is home for an expat? Discuss.’ – but it feels as if I have two homes, as if I’m slowly becoming more Swiss. I haven’t changed so much that I no longer talk about the weather or have forgotten how to form an orderly queue, but little things are enough to trigger a sensation of not being 100% British any more: smiling when the money machine gives you only small notes, spending ages trying to find the @ sign on an English-language keyboard, and feeling relieved that Harrison Ford has his real voice on television. Or just being amazed at very ordinary moments, such as shopping on a Sunday, walking down escalators easily because everyone else is standing on the right, and hearing people whistle in public. Pretty much how it must feel to be one of the 30,000 Swiss expats living in Britain or the 700,000 Swiss tourists who visit every year.

  It’s even more noticeable when transport is involved. In Britain I now expect cars to stop for me at a zebra crossing, look the wrong way first when crossing the road, and go to the wrong car door to get in as a passenger. Worst of all is getting off the bus. I ring the bell. Twice. As it dings for the second time, usually earning me a sarcastic remark from the driver, I can only smile. I’m clearly so used to Swiss buses and trams that my finger couldn’t resist pushing the button again. To explain: on Swiss transport you ring the bell to let the driver know you want to get off at the next stop, but the doors won’t open automatically unless you push the button on the pole beside them. Except, of course, if the button you originally pushed to ring the bell is the same as the one to open the doors. Got that? In
London, you just ring any bell once and wait for the doors to open. No need at all to push the button beside the door, and if you do the bell rings again. When I do that it’s like being a visitor in my own homeland.

  The biggest change is, of course, that punctuality has become a way of life. I am now so used to Swiss trains that anything else feels distinctly inferior. It’s a sure sign of my growing Swissness that I relish landing at Zurich or Geneva airports. Not because I am ‘home’, but because I love that little info screen at the luggage carousel, the one that tells you when the next trains are leaving. Such a great example of attention to detail. So simple, so helpful, so Swiss.

  UNDERGROUND, OVERGROUND

  Perhaps the most noteworthy aspect of trains in Switzerland isn’t those screens, or even their famed punctuality, but the fact that they are rarely make the news outside Switzerland. That’s the price of perfection. But in 2010 that changed twice in the space of three months, and not entirely for the best reasons.

  Let’s start with the good news. At 14:17 on 15 October, the Swiss showed the world that they can bore better than anyone when the final breakthrough was made in NEAT, the new Gotthard Tunnel. The last 180cm of rock was excavated live on Swiss television, accompanied by cheers, tears, fireworks and St Barbara. As at the Lötschberg Tunnel, she made her customary appearance, this time in the hands of the construction foreman, who was the first to climb through the new hole. After 50 years of planning and nearly seven of drilling, the boring bit was over, but it will be a while yet before services begin. Until then, here are some facts about the world’s longest tunnel:

  At 57km the eastern tunnel is 7km longer than the Channel Tunnel.

  24 million tonnes of rock (or five times the size of the Great Pyramid) have been excavated and recycled to make concrete or gravel.

  At its deepest point, the tunnel is 2300 metres underground.

  Passenger trains will travel at up to 250km/h through the tunnel, cutting an hour off the Zurich–Milan trip.

  Reason enough for national pride, even if eight workers have died so far during the construction and the total cost is 9.8 billion Swiss francs; no doubt there will be a big party when the tunnel finally opens in 2016. It was all quite a contrast to the shock of three months before when one of Switzerland’s most popular trains crashed in Valais, killing a Japanese tourist and injuring 42 other passengers. Not what anyone expects from Swiss railways. The Glacier Express crash on 23 July 2010 was down to human error (the driver going too fast too soon), which is something even the Swiss can’t control.

  And at a local level too, the Swiss proved that they don’t always get things right. All those preconceived notions of clockwork precision and Alpine efficiency went out the window when Bern inaugurated its new tram lines at the end of 2010. Very sadly the G (or ‘gay’) tram vanished, replaced by the No6, though in name only as the trams themselves were the same. Therein lay the problem when the route was extended west. The old trams weren’t designed for the hills and corners of the western suburbs, so they screeched their way through town, much to the annoyance of local residents, who complained as loudly as the trams. It was all thanks to the wheels being the wrong shape (I guess just being round wasn’t enough), but it cost too much to replace them immediately. So for a year the trams were swapped for buses, defeating the object of the exercise: to extend the tram network.

  For me, it was rather lovely to read about the ongoing saga in the paper. Not because it was reassuring to see that even the Swiss can mess something up, or that both the screeching and the complaining were very un-Swiss. No, it was because it was like being back in Britain, where such mishaps are common: leaves on the line, the wrong sort of snow and new trains too big for the tunnels. At least in Switzerland perfection is the norm not the exception, even if it doesn’t come cheaply.

  THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING FRANC

  Kreuzlingen is one of those nondescript Swiss towns that most people merely pass through, in this case on the way to its next-door neighbour Constance. The cathedral city just over the German border has always been a popular day trip for the Swiss, not only for its lakeside old town but for the shopping. In 2011 the steady trickle of Swiss shoppers became a flood, and the first casualty of the deluge was the local economy in Kreuzlingen. For years, its petrol stations had been full of cars with German numberplates; Switzerland had the lowest petrol prices in Europe and profited from that. In real terms those prices were still much the same, but the mighty franc made them look very expensive. Suddenly the reverse applied: the Germans stopped coming and the Swiss were buying their petrol over the border. And for once, it was the franc that was at fault. From being a guarantor of Swiss security and stability and a source of national pride, within a year the franc had caused an economic crisis in its homeland. It was the victim of its own success.

  Low unemployment, minimal national debt, no housing bubble – while other economies crashed and burned, the Swiss was a beacon of responsibility and prudence, so the demand for francs exploded. With both the euro and US dollar collapsing, 2011 was the year when investors turned to the ever-reliable Swiss franc as a safe haven. It gained up to 30% in value in just 15 months, rushing past parity with the dollar and then reaching it with the euro. Great news for Swiss going abroad, disastrous for Swiss industry dependent on exports. As quickly as the foreign visitors stopped arriving, the Swiss were leaving to shop in Germany, France and Italy. Same products, half the price. Not only that, but what had been the last resort for the Swiss tourist industry – the loyal domestic guests – also started to disappear. Even the most patriotic Swiss realised that switching to a holiday abroad was a bargain not to be missed. The solid Swiss economy was battered from all sides – tourism down, exports down, shops closing down. Having survived the banking and housing crashes, Switzerland finally tasted economic distress, albeit of a very unusual nature. Only the Swiss could turn success into a crisis.

  It was a summer of discontent. As the complaints about high prices and low profits grew louder, the government offered two billion francs to help the export and tourist industries, but only got criticism in return. Supermarkets battled to show that they were cutting prices on imported goods, car dealers and electrical shops shouted about euro discounts, and hotels relied ever more on the Asian market. It is rather ironic that as hard as the Swiss try to stay aloof from the EU and its currency, they sometimes have no option but to succumb to economic and geographic reality. Refusing to join the party doesn’t mean that you are immune to the noise. Eventually the Swiss National Bank stepped in and tied the franc to the euro at a minimum rate of 1.20, committing itself to spend whatever it took to achieve that. So far it has worked, but it is proving to be an expensive decision, not least for the bank’s chairman.

  The Hildebrand Affair sounds like a classic Agatha Christie novel and it had all the right ingredients: the unwitting hero, the femme fatale, the gruff millionaire, revenge, intrigue and lots of money. But it wasn’t fiction: it was the biggest scandal to hit Swiss banking in at least three months. And it cost Philipp Hildebrand his job. His wife had bought and sold thousands of dollars during the summer of 2011, at the same time as he was pegging the Swiss franc to the euro. By Christmas, their (stolen) bank details had become public knowledge, via a certain SVP politician, one Christoph Blocher. A bank investigation cleared Mr Hildebrand but he resigned anyway, unable to prove that he had known nothing of his wife’s dealings. Having lost the elections of 2011, the SVP won the first battle of 2012. Herr Hildebrand had become the right wing’s figure of hate for his more open policies on bank secrecy, dealings with Europe, banking reforms and the strong franc. And he was far too close to the Finance Minister, Eveline Widmer Schlumpf, who remains the devil in disguise for the SVP. Insider dealing or worrying naïveté? Political revenge or national interest? We may never know.

  Herr Hildebrand was the second Swiss bank chief to resign in almost as many months. In September 2011, the head of UBS stepped down after a rogue trader in Lo
ndon had lost the bank two billion francs. Having been bailed out by the government, fined for helping rich Americans evade their taxes and cut thousands of jobs, it hadn’t been a good couple of years for Switzerland’s biggest bank. Not forgetting the disastrous company dress code, which made headlines around the world: for women, it was skin-coloured underwear, discreet make-up and no black nail varnish; for men, how to tie the right knot, monthly haircuts and no scruffy beards. Both sexes should avoid garlic or onions at lunch and always have clean spectacles, as ‘on the one hand this gives you optimal vision and on the other hand dirty glasses create an appearance of negligence’. That might just seem like Swiss attention to detail, but even that’s outdone by the comment that wearing a wristwatch shows ‘trustworthiness and a serious concern for punctuality’. What better advice does a Swiss banker need?

  While the much-derided guide was later quietly revised, it was perhaps symptomatic of Swiss banking in general: criticised from all sides, undermined by past overconfidence and weakened by its reluctance to adapt. The recent collapse of Wegelin, Switzerland’s oldest private bank, and its federal indictment in the US are proof of how far Swiss banks have fallen. The Swiss banking system is no longer a stereotypically smooth machine, nor is its future as gold-plated as it once was. It might remain at the heart of Switzerland’s economy, but it may well need a transplant some time soon.