It is incredible how complacent Switzerland is about the fact that one in four residents does not have the right to vote. There is no action plan to address the issue, and no great concern about the moral implications of this exclusion or the impact on social cohesion.
The country has a history of disenfranchising large segments of the population, shamefacedly marking a mere 50 years of the women’s vote last year.
But parallels between women’s voting rights and voting rights for foreigners, drawn by some campaigners, do not seem to have caught the public imagination.
The high percentage of foreigners (25 per cent) is seen as an inevitable fact of life. As if Switzerland just can’t be help being so attractive. However, these so-called foreigners include a large proportion of Swiss-born residents, people who would not be considered foreign in other countries.
The vast majority of European Union countries have a foreign population below 10 per cent. Not including Luxembourg, Austria has the highest share in the EU at 16 per cent. Yes, Switzerland has a had a historically high rate of immigration but what really makes the country an outlier is its strict naturalisation policy that keeps foreigners artificially foreign.
One way to expand the circle of voters and make Switzerland more democratic would be to actually grant federal voting rights to foreigners who meet certain residency conditions. A small number of cantons are leading the way in this regard.
Neuchâtel and Jura have given the right to vote to foreign citizens, subject to certain conditions, but not the right to run for election.
The cantons of Fribourg, Vaud, Neuchâtel and Jura have granted foreign residents the right to vote and to be elected at communal level. Basel City, Graubünden and Appenzell Ausserrhoden are following this model too but the uptake by their communes is patchy.
Again, at communal level, the canton of Geneva grants the right to vote and the right to elect but not to be elected. And that’s it. Most foreigners in Switzerland are simply not included in the political process at any level.
Another more efficient way to extend voting rights to more people would be to redefine some foreigners as Swiss. Their Swissness is already obvious in the right light – it’s just not officially recognised.
Because of the onerous, lengthy and expensive naturalisation procedure, people remain technically foreign for much too long, in many cases for life.
At the very least, Switzerland could initiate a citizenship recruitment drive to make sure all the people who could be Swiss under the current rules are encouraged to come into the fold through naturalisation.
But this would require a fundamental shift in how naturalisation is perceived. The system would need to change from a restrictive fear-based approach to a completely different, more welcoming ethos.
The government’s position on naturalisation is clear.
“Only those who are successfully integrated and present no danger to Switzerland’s internal or external security should be granted Swiss citizenship.”
This statement was given last year in response to a failed parliamentary motion seeking to introduce citizenship by birth in the country – the jus solis principle. The same language is used across official publications.
Notice the word ‘danger’. This, along with the wonderfully-subjective term ‘integration’, makes the process intimidating by design. The rationale for the high barriers to naturalisation, including an examination of each application individually, with interviews, is to root out the bad apples.
The problem is that this officious and suspicious approach also deters good potential citizens from coming forward.
When 30 per cent of births in Switzerland are to two foreign parents, this is not a marginal issue. Those babies are an essential gift to Switzerland, ready to be loyal to their homeland but kept at arm’s length with the label ‘foreign’.
With all the talk of integration, Swiss officialdom is missing the most important integration tool of all – having a Swiss child in the family. Growing up feeling that you belong, not feeling that you have to prove you belong. Is that too much to ask?
There is a false perception that anyone who hasn’t navigated the rocky path to citizenship has chosen to exclude themselves from political participation. This ignores the barriers deliberately put in place to keep the numbers of new citizens low.
There is also a class element to this, where only families with a higher level of income, connections and education have the resources to pursue naturalisation.
Switzerland stands out as having the most restrictive naturalisation policy in Europe. Since the law on citizenship was tightened in 2018, even fewer people than before are successfully proving their worthiness to be Swiss. Only 25,600 people became Swiss through naturalisation last year. Not much out of a population of 2.1 million foreigners.
Swiss politicians and voters steadfastly keep the barriers to naturalisation high. Why? Because all the emphasis is on the value of Swiss citizenship and too little value is placed on future citizens themselves who are actually a win for the country.
One of the flaws of direct democracy is that there is an inbuilt disincentive to broaden the pool of voters.
Sadly, as long as Swiss voters are afraid of their neighbours with foreign surnames having a say in how their shared society is run, nothing will change.