Switzerland Fractures

Switzerland: long coveted by neighboring nations as fodder for imperialistic ambitions, yet heavily relied on by the rest of Europe for the famine loans of the 1920s, then a black sheep pushed into a makeshift alliance; the country has found itself manhandled and most at odds with the flow of history. On this background, with tensions building up over the course of a century, further defining the Swiss ideological path now largely befalls its representative in the Nordic Union, Councilor Robert Grimm.

Grimm Politics

Though some see Grimm as the perpetrator of instability, it is clear that the confederation owes its ongoing sovereignty to its membership in the Nordic Union – a feat for which he is largely credited. This does come with additional issues, most notably because of the strong ties between the Union and France specifically. While Grimm was sympathetic to the Communiste Internationale, he also remembered the Bonapartist territorial ambitions of the 1850s as sharply as the eastern Imperial threat. It has been a long time, in fact, since serious international efforts have been put into gaining the nation’s trust, and Switzerland now stands out on maps as a growth in the way of the French-Imperial border, looking ripe for surgical removal.

Given the circumstances, it would be more reasonable to describe Grimm’s paranoia as a symptom of Switzerland’s insecurity, rather than as its cause. He was seen as a man on edge, nervous and unpredictable – but perhaps above all he was conscious that his term would be all about scrambling for national security and managing internal infighting, meaning also that he would never see days as a popular councilor. Each of his political decisions in the NU would be faced with criticism, controversy, outrage. His only option to prevent an impending political collapse was to appeal to the 56% who had voted in favor of the NU membership, at the cost of angering the other 44%.

Further complicating the matter, Swiss interests were multilayered and not always superimposed. Ideologically, the Confederation was left-leaning and pacifist, their strongest affinity with the original Nordics – but an important misalignment with Finland and Estonia who were now actively fighting the Russians. Economically, a significant portion of the governing bodies argued for strategies to force or speed up repayment of the outstanding loans, all the while feeling alienated by the rapprochement with communist France. The military decisions accompanying the unrest also factored in: the Deterrence Group, or Abschreckungsgruppe (AG) was intended to be a passive political entity – but as its lines grew and its structure became more complex under Grimm’s tightening grip, it initiated a transition towards active militantism.

Throughout 1939, the AG was seen fraternizing with the French Gendarmes sent as part of the October 1938 Bonnet-Munch agreements, which aimed at reinforcing the regime. In many cases, the force resulting from this collaboration would end up interfering with local politics, acting with the authority of a militia where internal litigation should have sufficed. Throughout major cities, the outcome of neighborly disputes and civil grievances became a matter of being pro- or anti-regime, with the AG-Gendarmerie largely settling cases in favor of the former. Discontent grew hand in hand with the judicial authority of the AG and the French influence over the Swiss domestic policies.

The French were not blind to the fact that the collaboration between Swiss law enforcement and their own opened an ideological backdoor, and they were quick to exploit it. In the summer of 1939, pamphlets of communist propaganda started to circulate in Zürich, Basel, Geneva, Fribourg and Bern, prompting the government to launch an investigation – if only to keep up appearances in the eyes of the banking class and its affiliates. Upon discovering that his own AG was responsible, Grimm would double-deal: publicly, he thanked the French for their fervent support of the Swiss interests, emphasizing that this was not foreign meddling but mere collaboration between allies; privately, to the big cheeses, he promised immediate measures to root out any communist interferences moving forward.

This, however, was not enough for most holders of the Helvetic capital, who  did not do well with the prospect of having their assets potentially blocked by Marxist economics. It was well known that Grimm would never be a true friend of the upper class. They instead wanted to negotiate.

The 127

In October 1939, a coalition of 127 of the most prominent and wealthiest Swiss industrialists and bankers petitioned for an official motion to the government – a document containing formal demands that, in essence, would guarantee that control over the country’s GDP would remain heavily privatized and in the hands of a select few. In exchange, the 127 would pledge to fund the government’s operations under certain conditions.

The decision was the president’s. Nearing the end of his one-year term, Hermann Obrecht was a financially-minded centrist, and saw the deal as a good idea for the most part. Grimm, on the federal council as Head of the Federal Department of Foreign Affairs, strongly opposed it – but his influence was stretched thin. Obrecht was betting that this concession, however substantial, would be the final step on the path of compromise. Besides, the Swiss focus was on a bigger, more dire picture: though for now all was quiet on the eastern front, Switzerland as part of the NU was now officially at war with the Holy Roman Empire, and the guarantee of financial support in wartime seemed too sweet a deal. Spies had already caught news that the Kaiser was eyeing eastern Switzerland, with his ambitions reaching as far as Zürich, which would make a fine addition to the list of Imperial “Free” Cities. The Holy Roman Empire’s own network had been hard at work, fomenting dissent in the city and arranging the 127’s rise to power. In fact, it is likely that Motion 127 had been first drafted outside Switzerland itself. As for the true Imperial offensive, it could wait until non-military options stopped functioning so well. Which, from Obrecht’s perspective, constituted a kind of acceptable status quo: as long as the enemy was scheming, it was not attacking.

The strategy reached its limits almost immediately. As Obrecht’s gambit failed to get the 127 on his side, he found that he only empowered them, and was now faced with a class of oligarchs. It came as no surprise to most that they later refused to honor the financial agreements with the confederation, as no authority was able to enforce them – they were now the authority.

The 127, bolstered by corruption and the strengthening economic ties with the Imperials, quickly became a political faction with thousands of active members, rising to prominence as the primary opposition to Grimm’s supporters in the government. Their recklessness was made particularly clear on January 17th, 1940, when socialist mayor of Zürich Emil Klöti was assassinated and replaced within a week by vocally pro-Imperial Rudolf Ansetti. The motive of the assassination and the irregularities in the election process were left in plain sight, causing media outrage and putting a significant dent into Grimm’s rhetoric that “Switzerland was as stable as ever”, not to mention the coup came as a personal blow to him as a Zürich native.

The Lyon Accords

Grimm had one major card to offset the financial “brain” drain: the famine loans. With enormous outstanding repayments that would take decades to repay at a standard rate, Switzerland had major leverage, and the time had come to capitalize on it.

Consequently, Grimm’s government submitted a proposal to the NAA: to evenly split the debt to Switzerland between allies for a reduced interest rate. This had several advantages. One, the debt was partly owned by nations near insolvency, some now sitting outside the bosom of the NAA that would indefinitely postpone repayment on the grounds of the war. Two, the deal was a token of good faith from the confederation, which pledged contribution to the alliance while reminding its members that it was still capable of setting boundaries. Three, the loans would be repaid in full within a couple of years, making for a very welcome money inflow in the foreseeable future.

After negotiations, wherein the United States and France accepted to hold a bigger share of the debt to the benefit of struggling nations such as Estonia and Finland, the Lyon Accords would be signed on February 8th, marking one of Grimm’s most successful diplomatic moves.

In the meantime however, Imperialist agitators did not hesitate to pursue a double-edged campaign of infiltration into the AG in order to instil distrust in Grimm’s compromises, and occasionally sabotage its infrastructure. Double-edged because, on the one hand, the Deterrence Group remained ideologically undeterred and faithful to its nationalistic values. It would continue to target any enemies of the confederation, and as such, provoking the AG was giving it full justification to directly confront the 127 and their allies. However, the prospect of causing the AG to spin out of Grimm’s control largely offset that risk.

The strategy did not work out exactly as intended. The constant Imperial nagging on the organization did result in fragilization, but took the form of a split of opinion between two of its influential figures: Abschreckungsleutnant and army veteran Dominique Tareaux, and Carl Tillman, the AG’s secretary general.

Switzerland and the Bipartisan Rift

Tareaux, a natural team leader, had garnered a great deal of support from within the militia thanks to his military experience, and was familiar with French politics due to his frequent assignments around Geneva. Or so he believed – for in reality, his views were primarily driven by personal mis“fortunes” with communism.

His Swiss father André Tareaux, who had married French Caroline Prétan in 1905, had been at the head of a flourishing business venture in the 1910s. Dealing in textile with the Russian upper class, he and his company were on the way to fame and fortune when the civil war put an abrupt end to his dreams of grandeur. With his Russian factory burnt to the ground by the Soviets in the summer of 1920 as a landmark of the foreign bourgeoisie, he would be quick to pull out of the Russian market and develop a strong and alcoholic resentment towards Communists.

The feeling would only be heightened in 1939, with the Tareauxs established in Caroline’s native Nice, when the family’s unbridled spending attracted the attention of the Commissariat. Upon investigation, it was found that the Tareauxs possessed enormous wealth in the form of several Swiss bank accounts. As punishment, their marriage was invalidated, their assets seized for immediate redistribution by the state, and the family deported with a lifelong ban from residing in French territory or acquiring French citizenship. They would then relocate to André’s native Fribourg, Switzerland.

Dominique had been raised to blame “backwards leftist policy in France and Communism of all forms” for the state of his family. Now with the invalidation of his parents’ marriage came only confirmation that his hatred was in the right place, and that such things as the Gendarmerie’s intervention in the country was nothing but the spread of the communist plague. These circumstances, along with his charismatic personality, made him the perfect target of Imperial propaganda, and the ideal pawn of the 127 within the AG.

As for Tillman, he was a loyalist and a level-headed socialist, but one pushed further and further towards interventionism by the Imperial threat – and by people like Tareaux, who to him was a symptom of the very illness that Switzerland must overcome.

Across divides, the AG became more virulent. Some cases of violence against citizens were observed, but the primary issue was infighting, as well as lack of collaboration between misaligned brigades. Things came to a head when, in March 1940, a group of men under Tareaux’s clear influence became associated with further political assassinations. As a way to minimize damage, the AG’s hierarchy decided to affect Tareaux’s brigades to the east (primarily Zürich) and thus keep them separate from Tillman’s; but at this point the creation of opposite camps was inexorable and almost complete.

The Imperial Offensive

April 10th was the date the Holy Roman Empire chose to finally launch an attack on Swiss territory. The Alps, historically a barrier against military operations, were no obstacle to aetherships flown from Mailand (Lombardy-Venetia) and Innsbruck (Tirol). The weather conditions were also perfect, with the Lombard sun ensuring a smooth takeoff, and fog over eastern Switzerland concealing the approach. Simultaneously, forces amassed around Lake Constance for a light offensive, resulting in around 200 total Swiss casualties.

Eastern cantons, already housing most Imperial sympathizers, were not the HRE’s interest however, and panic gripped the Swiss population as the aetherships made their way further inland, ignoring Zürich itself. It was not until strategic targets around Luzern and Bern were reached that the ships opened fire, destroying or damaging infrastructure and causing hundreds of civilian casualties.

By the next day, it had become evident that the Imperials would not fully commit to a Swiss theater, and that the Constance offensive was rather a diversion for aether-led terror tactics. After three days, the Imperial troops had effectively withdrawn, which was consistent with the HRE’s struggles on other parts of their borders. The lazily-argued official position to explain the disproportionate civilian losses was that the ships’ systems had malfunctioned. The Swiss rejected it, denouncing a deliberate maneuver to reach the country’s public opinion.

And that it did. Every single event of internal politics following the Nordic Union membership had contributed to deepening the 56-44 rift, and by April the country was sitting on the tipping point. The outrageous operation orchestrated by the enemy was more than enough to finally break the camel’s back.

The Civil War

Over the weeks following the attack, violent protests erupted in every major Swiss city, consisting mostly of the confrontation of two axes: on one side, the Tillman-led legitimists, who were rallied by the original Abschreckungsgruppe, the French Gendarmerie and their supporters, concentrated in western cities; on the other, Tareaux’s dissidents stationed in Zürich. Both factions were reinforced by thousands of civilians nation-wide, with a slight edge with the government’s camp. More often than not, armed branches of the AG would fire into the crowd, somewhat indiscriminately, unleashing waves of civilian bloodshed. The whole events proved particularly difficult to cover, as oftentimes protesters who believed to be on the same side found out on the spot that their fight was not the same. Those who believed to be friends or allies because of a shared support for the AG discovered that their views of the group differed and turned against each other, while others who saw themselves as opponents reconciled and now fought alongside one another. The conflict was dynamic, ever-changing, seeming only to clear up with the protesters’ deaths, whose numbers were difficult to know, but uncanny in any case: thousands, quite possibly tens of thousands.

Slowly but surely, over the course of weeks, the protests began to be geographically defined, with frontlines being drawn across urban districts, and occasionally around the cities themselves. Many of Tareaux’s supporters, amounting to a small migratory movement, had joined him in Zürich where they benefitted from immediate accommodations under Ansetti’s mayoral rule, while residents suspected of socialist sympathies were displaced to the west en masse to make room. Many citizens followed suit on their own volition, fleeing either the risk of ideological persecution or the conflict itself to any extent possible; or sometimes simply defecting. Consolidating the rift between Western and Eastern Switzerland, Tareaux renamed his forces the Liberty Brigades and called for the creation of a new political entity, the Free Cantons of Helvetia, which included Vorarlberg, Liechtenstein, Thurgau, Zürich, Saint Gallen, Appenzell Innerrhoden and Appenzell Ausserrhoden, Glarus, Grisons, and Ticino. These constitute the officially recognized secessionist cantons, but due to the widespread nature of the troubles, others are contested as well, especially in the center of the country.

On May 9th, Zürich’s press was the first to label the events a civil war, a headline quickly borrowed across outlets. For some time, Grimm had avoided the press pool, aware more than ever that his best move was not to move – but now enough was enough. He declared the Free Cantons of Helvetia (FCH) an illegal entity, by which he half-legitimized their territorial claims but also rid the “healthy” part of the country from much of their threat.

Unclear Prospects

It is likely that the civil war will go on for a time, as pro-Imperial movements troops keep facing off with the government’s forces in the west. Zürich itself remains a hotspot, and the Swiss Alps have become riddled with guerrilla-like operations as Imperial forces with little mountaineering experience fail to dislodge pockets of Romansh-led resistance. There will also be hesitation on whether the line separating the FCH and the Swiss Confederation should be considered a border or a frontline, as skirmishes remain commonplace, and occupation spotty.

The secession of the Free Cantons is of course a net loss for Switzerland, and a near-worst scenario. With its leader significantly weakened, a civil war raging on, and its sovereignty collapsing in on itself, the future of the confederation in the war looks bleak at best. That said, its meager successes might bear fruit with time, as Grimm’s approval ratings surged from the effective purge of the opposition. The economy will suffer from the defection of a large part of the banking class to the FCH, but may rebound sooner than expected as the Lyon Accords strengthen the Swiss financial credibility. This combination would certainly spell the end of President Obrecht’s political career, and potentially usher in a Grimm-aligned regime.

But perhaps the true winner is not so much the Imperials, but the political commentators, who revel in the irony of a country at war with itself.