Swiss Watching Read online

  Perhaps the problem is that multiculturalism is a relatively new concept for the Swiss. No empire meant no colonial immigration. Whereas almost every British town has an Indian and/or Chinese restaurant, in many Swiss towns it’s an Italian. Away from the more cosmopolitan big cities, that’s about as exotic as it gets. Traditionally the Swiss themselves didn’t move far from home, so that even someone from St Gallen can be dismissed as a ‘foreigner’ in Bern. Throw in a different language, religion or skin colour and integration becomes all the more difficult. Foreigners, or Ausländer, can feel like the proverbial square peg their whole lives, not helped by the fact that they are routinely blamed for the country’s ills (few though they may be). Listen to the right wing and you might think there are no Swiss people in prison, no Swiss benefit cheats, no Swiss joyriders and no Swiss beggars. Only Ausländer.

  Luckily, not all Swiss think like that. The SVP might have ‘won’ the 2007 election but they still got less than 30 per cent of the vote; in real terms that translates to about 10 per cent of the population.28 Although this 10 per cent is a very vocal, active and influential minority, which uses the direct democracy system to its advantage, it doesn’t always win. The country’s conservative image hides a surprisingly liberal stance on social issues, such as drug use and assisted suicide – neither is actively encouraged but both are accepted to a much larger degree than in most countries (except perhaps The Netherlands). And let’s not forget that Switzerland was the first country in the world where the people, rather than parliament, voted in favour of gay civil partnerships.29 Or that since the war, Switzerland has a good record of sheltering refugees, be they from Sri Lanka or Kosovo, and giving them benefits until they find their feet. Swiss politics may be in the hands of the people, but it’s as paradoxical as any other aspect of modern Switzerland.

  As the minaret vote showed, the long-term issue is integration and Switzerland is not alone in not really knowing how to manage it; most other European countries face a similar challenge. The difference is that in Switzerland the hurdles are higher and the rules stricter than in most other countries. A legitimate defence of everything Swiss? Or the acceptable face of xenophobia and racism? The Swiss themselves seem unable to decide, caught between needing the extra workers but not really wanting them to be involved; trapped between the liberal urge to help those in need and the conservative push for greater controls. This is a nation torn by both an idealised view of the past and the insecurity of a multicultural future, seeing itself as open and tolerant but then not always acting that way. One thing is sure: it will be the Swiss voters who decide what happens, but it could be some time before they know what they really want, and what is best for the country.

  To outsiders, Swiss politics seems unduly labyrinthine, with its multiple layers and complex distribution of power. It can also appear dull, especially to those used to the adversarial nature of British and American (or French or German) politics. But perhaps Switzerland should be the rule rather than the exception. If all democracies were as inclusive, then maybe the politics would be more about policy and less about personality. It could save billions of dollars if elections were less confrontational, and millions of lives if the people decided when to go to war. It could make such a difference. No system is perfect, least of all the Swiss one, but some are clearly better than others.

  Understanding its unique politics is the key to grasping much of what Switzerland and its people are about. The national model of consensus and compromise shapes the Swiss mind and permeates down to every level of society. Everything is looked at from every angle, open to debate and formulated to appeal to the majority. Spontaneity is not a Swiss trait, be that dropping by on friends unannounced or making a decision that hasn’t been discussed to the nth degree. Almost everything is planned with the meticulousness of a train timetable; and I mean a Swiss one, not British, let alone Italian. For all its drawbacks, however, the Swiss political system is perhaps the best example of true democracy in action. Or, as Abraham Lincoln once said: ‘Government of the people, by the people, for the people.’30 He must have had Switzerland in mind.

  SWISS WATCHING TIP NO 4: X DOESN’T MARK THE SPOT

  Nothing is uncomplicated in Switzerland, least of all voting. As a visitor it’s not something you will ever do, and even permanent residents may never get a chance. Only the Swiss can vote, which is probably just as well because they’re about the only ones who understand the system (and I’m not sure all of them do). Other countries’ elections involve simply putting an X in a box or punching a hole. The Swiss have the world’s most complex proportional representation system; you almost need a degree in quantum physics to understand it.

  The easy part is the Council of States. You get two votes if your canton has two seats, only one if you live in a half-canton. Candidates are elected if they get an absolute majority of votes cast; if the seats are not filled, there is a second round a few weeks later. You cannot vote twice for the same candidate, which seems blindingly obvious until you read on.

  The National Council election is where things get serious. You have as many votes as seats available, which in Canton Zurich means 34 but in next-door Canton Zug only three. Each party produces a candidate list or, by presenting itself as various different factions, more than one. So the SVP might have lists for male candidates, female candidates, the youth section and an international section – four times as many chances to win seats. You could just use one of these pre-selected lists for your votes, giving them all to one party. But how dull is that? Far better to be creative by changing the list in three different ways:

  Strike. If you don’t like a candidate, then cross his (or her) name off the list. Simple as that, he’s lost your vote. You can strike as many as you want, as long as at least one name remains.

  Accumulate. Give your favourite candidates a better chance by voting for them twice. Write each name in again, having first struck off someone else. Parties can also do this by putting a candidate twice in a list. But two’s company, three’s a crowd – in both cases triple voting is verboten; that would be so unfair.

  Split. You want to vote CVP but your best friend is standing for the FDP. No problem. Just cross off someone on the CVP list and add his name instead. Even better, cross off two people and write his name in twice.

  As if that weren’t enough, it’s possible to create your own list using a blank voting form. You can pick and mix from any candidates who are already on an official list – and still accumulate by writing in names twice, though don’t get carried away and write in more names than there are seats. List making can be a daunting task in some cantons, such as in the 2011 election when 802 candidates across 30 lists stood for the 34 seats in Canton Zurich.31 That’s some choice, but help is at hand. An independent website32 asks your views on a host of issues, then matches your answers to the candidates’ views. A few clicks and you have a personal list. All very twenty-first century.

  With so many possibilities you could be in that voting booth for hours, crossing out names, writing legibly, asking for another form because you messed yours up. It’d be like taking an exam. To stop all elections turning into a votathon, the Swiss very sensibly do it by post for the most part. There are polling stations, often in the main train station, but not as many as you see in Britain. Like so many things in Switzerland, voting is a private affair (except in Appenzell Innerrhoden and Glarus, of course).

  Faced with all of that, it’s no surprise that turnout in Switzerland is not very high, hovering below the 50 per cent mark for the last few general elections. This could be down to voter fatigue, not only from trying to work out the system but from being asked to elect local, cantonal and national councils, as well as voting in all those referenda. It might also be because general elections rarely achieve much. The new Bundesrat will be much the same coalition as the old one, with one seat changing hands if you’re lucky. Parliamentary political swings are more obvious, as shown by the SVP recently, but the Swiss parliamen
t is much less powerful than those in other countries, so the impact is lessened.

  The average referendum turnout is even lower, normally around 40 per cent. This seems rather odd, given that in many ways a referendum has more direct influence than a general election; each vote really does count. Perhaps being asked to make judgements so often affects the level of participation. Or more likely, most voters are content with the status quo and prefer not to get involved or push for change. What is noticeable is that when something really important comes along, turnout shoots up: 69 per cent in the vote to abolish the army in 1989, and 78 per cent in the EEA vote of 1992.33

  Even if turnout is low, the direct democracy system works to include people and galvanise them into action. Between 1971 and 2010, an optional referendum was called on 94 different laws and parliamentary decisions. In the same period, there were 121 popular initiatives put to the vote. That’s an awful lot of committees formed, signatures collected, campaigns organised and speeches made. Never mind that only 30 and 11 respectively succeeded in being passed.34 Such political participation is unheard of in most other democracies. More than anything, it reminds the elected politicians that the people are always there, waiting to pass judgement.

  FIVE

  WEALTHY, HEALTHY AND WISE?

  Zurich may not be the capital city, but for many it is the face of urban Switzerland: compact and efficient yet cosmopolitan and exciting, especially if you live in rural Appenzell. It has everything a Swiss city needs: the lake-shore location, the Alps in the background, trams trundling past, spires piercing the skyline, no hint of pollution, and even a faint but definite whiff of chocolate in the air. No wonder it regularly tops the polls of most desirable cities in the world to live in.

  But for the English-speaking world, Zurich brings one image to mind: grey-suited bankers. Back when the pound in your pocket was still worth twenty shillings, Harold Wilson damned them to be known for ever more as the gnomes of Zurich. And he wasn’t talking about the bearded men who look like mini Father Christmases and inhabit many a British garden. These gnomes were the secretive, greedy ones living underground with their piles of hoarded gold, the ones manipulating the world against the innocent pound sterling. Not exactly a flattering picture, but one which has stuck. Google that phrase today and up pop articles on Swiss banking that are still using it. It’s even there subconsciously in Harry Potter, where Gringotts Bank is run by goblins, the gnomes’ uglier cousins, also traditionally cast as the bad guys in fairytales. These days bankers are called much worse but Wilson lived in an age when they were, at least in Britain, still in the honest, dependable mould of Captain Mainwaring in Dad’s Army. They were the ones you could trust with the family silver and turn to in a crisis, rather than them selling the silver and causing the crisis. How the world has changed.

  The only gnomes to be seen in Zurich are the common-or-garden variety in the window of a seed shop: cheery fellows with pointy hats and colourful clothing. In Paradeplatz, the home of the big two Swiss banks, there are soberly suited men, all of normal stature and mostly beardless, though many stretch to a moustache, a facial feature that is worryingly popular with Swiss men. One or two also sport a melon, as a bowler hat is known locally, more as a fashion statement than a status symbol. Are Swiss bankers any different from other Swiss people? Not really, and certainly not in the way that merchant bankers in London are a breed apart.

  Bankers in Switzerland are neither revered as masters of the universe nor reviled as the lowest form of pond life. Like many Swiss professions, they are just there, working their 42 hours a week, helping make the country a success. In fact, some people feel sorry for them – for the simple reason of clothing. In Switzerland, where smart casual is a way of life, the only men to wear suits are bankers, lawyers and politicians (and not even all of them). Invitations almost never state a dress code because that would break two cardinal rules: you are implying that you don’t trust your guests to come dressed properly, and you are invading their privacy by telling them what to wear. Trust and privacy are paramount in all things Swiss, particularly when it comes to banking.

  TRUST ME, I’M SWISS

  A picture is said to be worth a thousand words, but sometimes only a word can give the real picture. In Switzerland’s case, the countless photos of chalets, mountains and trains are fine for postcards but none sums up the essence of the country. For that you need one word: trust. Nothing reveals more about the Swiss, their country and their attitude to life better than that. Trust is what binds them together. When it comes to making the right decisions, they put their trust in each other, not their politicians. Shops leave display tables of goods outside unguarded, CCTV cameras are noticeable by their absence, and coats are hung at the restaurant entrance rather than over the backs of chairs. All because the Swiss trust one another not to break the rules or cheat the system. Of course theft, burglaries, benefit scams and tax dodges all still go on, but either there are far fewer of them or they’re better disguised. However, living in a society based on trust presents bigger problems than a few fiddles and frauds; in such a society you don’t ask questions and you expect everyone else to be as honest.

  The lack of questions is not simply about trust but about privacy, something most Swiss cherish more than anything. You don’t pry because you know your neighbours know that rules are there to be followed, not broken. You don’t question someone’s actions because they have given their word that they’re all above board. The only time you interfere is when it’s clear the other person has crossed the line. This is fine if everyone plays by the same rules, but in the real world that doesn’t happen. When the Swiss are faced with dishonesty and deceit, they can appear both charmingly incredulous and alarmingly innocent. Or perhaps it’s all an act and they’re being totally disingenuous, and have just been turning a blind eye to what they don’t want to see. When it comes to Swiss banks, it’s hard to know what the truth is.

  Of the many Swiss clichés, banking is perhaps biggest of them all, and it’s true in one respect: Switzerland certainly has lots of banks. Alongside the big two (UBS and Credit Suisse) are 319 others, with over 3400 branches, altogether employing about 132,000 people.1 That’s a big chunk of the economy, but most of these are not the banks you read about in headlines or plotlines; most of these are the ones where the Swiss save their money, and they do a lot of that – on average, a Swiss person has three savings accounts.2 But read The Da Vinci Code or watch James Bond, and you’d think that Swiss banks are there purely for numbered accounts stuffed with ill-gotten gains or deposit boxes hiding some long-lost treasure. Swiss banks pop up in books and films with predictable regularity, so that for the outside world they are all about secrecy, whereas for the Swiss the issue is privacy. That may sound like the same thing, but to the Swiss it’s not. In many ways the banks are a reflection of the society as a whole; in both, there is an assumption of trust that everyone is doing what’s right, and there is never any invasion of privacy or thoughts of dishonesty.

  Swiss banks are regarded as part of the community, there to act as safe houses against uncertainty and guarantors of stability. It’s this that always made them attractive to foreigners long before banking secrecy was legally protected. In contrast, the banking ethos in Britain and America shifted ages ago to making money and taking risks, bringing both the bankers and the economy more wealth. That’s so very un-Swiss, but the two big Swiss banks got sucked into this money-spinning whirlwind and are paying the price. For the Swiss, witnessing the downfall of UBS hasn’t only been a lesson in national humiliation, it was as much about how the bank had broken its compact of trust with the people. Money can be earned back quickly, trust takes a lot longer.

  TAXING TIMES

  This assumption of trust that underpins Swiss society is ironically the source of so much conflict between Switzerland and the rest of the world, and all thanks to tax. In Switzerland the tax system is essentially the same as the unmanned farm stalls you see all across the countrysi
de, where customers pay the right price for the produce they take. It’s all about honesty. There is no pay-as-you-earn (PAYE) system for Swiss tax,3 because that would let the government invade people’s privacy. It’s also quite difficult to administer, as very little of the (low) taxes in Switzerland are federal. The income tax you pay is based not only on what you earn but on where you live, with each community setting its own rates. Keep the same job but move house to another town, even within the same canton, and the tax will be different. Great if you live in a low-tax community, bad news for cities with a large commuter workforce. All those people using the trams and streets every day but all paying tax where they live, not where they work.

  Instead of PAYE, everyone has to complete a tax return no matter how little they earn, as tax kicks in from the very first penny. And it’s payable on capital as well as income, so if you’re unemployed but own land, you could still have to pay tax. The upside of this is that there are all sorts of legal means to lower your tax bill. Having a mortgage, painting your house, taking the train to work, giving to charity or running up big medical bills can all count against tax. Perhaps the best is eating lunch. If you’re employed, you can claim 15Fr a day because you have to eat lunch away from home. Essentially it’s dinner money from the taxman.

  The premise of the Swiss tax and banking system is that the government trusts the taxpayer to tell the truth. As long as you don’t lie (that would be fraud), you might be economical with the truth by forgetting about a bank account (that’s just evasion, which is not a crime in Switzerland), a fine distinction that most other countries don’t acknowledge. For the Swiss, banking secrecy and tax declarations are all about not letting anyone invade their privacy. When one Swiss banker (and politician; the two are not mutually exclusive) was asked why anyone would hide their money from the state unless they wanted to avoid taxes, his answer was typically Swiss: there’s no reason for the state not to trust its citizens, so no reason for it to be allowed to inspect an individual’s finances.4 It’s a view of the world that continues to cause problems.