In a move that has sent shivers down the spines of bureaucrats and delight through the hearts of libertarians, Swiss voters have decisively told the idea of a 10 million population cap to take a long walk off a short alpine cliff. The referendum, a masterpiece of democratic theatre, saw 63% of the electorate reject the proposal, effectively telling the anti-immigration brigade that their fears of being overrun by fondue-loving foreigners are, for now, unfounded.
Let us paint the scene: Zurich, a city of pristine banks and cuckoo clocks that run on schedule. The Swiss People's Party, a group of individuals who look like they were carved from the same block of Emmental, had proposed that the country cap its population at 10 million. Their logic, as far as one could discern through the thick fog of xenophobia, was that any more than that would turn Switzerland into a sort of overcrowded ski lodge where everyone has to share the same hot chocolate.
But the electorate, in a rare display of common sense, decided that perhaps a nation that prides itself on neutrality and chocolate doesn't need to slam the door on the rest of humanity just yet. The campaign was a gloriously absurd spectacle: posters depicting a faceless horde of immigrants swarming the Matterhorn, speeches about the sanctity of the alpine meadow, and a curious absence of any mention of the fact that Switzerland's economy runs on the imported labour of those very same foreigners.
The vote is, of course, non-binding. That's the Swiss way: they have a referendum, everyone gets to feel involved, and then the politicians do whatever they were going to do anyway. But the message is clear: the Swiss are not yet ready to build a wall around their fondue pot. They remember, perhaps, that the country is already home to more foreign-born residents than the average British pub on a Saturday night.
And so the immigration debate continues, a tired old horse that refuses to be put out to pasture. The anti-immigration crowd will grumble into their raclette, the pro-immigration lot will smugly sip their Chasselas, and the rest of us can only marvel at a system where such a fundamental question is decided by a show of hands from people who have probably never had a passport check that didn't involve a smile.
Swiss voters have spoken. They have not, alas, solved the riddle of integration or the housing crisis. But they have reaffirmed that democracy, for all its flaws, is still the best way to decide whether to let another million people in to argue about the correct way to make a hole in cheese. For now, the answer is: maybe. And that, in a world of terrible certainties, is a rather splendid thing.
