Traditionen sind Teil unserer Identität. Beides beeinflusst sich gegenseitig. Wie wir unsere Identität verstehen, hat die SRG kürzlich untersucht. Die Resultate sind teils überraschend.

Als am traditionellen Chalandamarz-Umzug dieses Jahr plötzlich auch Mädchen teilnehmen durften, machte das über die Landesgrenzen hinaus Schlagzeilen. Noch mehr zu reden gaben gendergerechte Jasskarten und die Frage, ob dieses Schweizer Kulturgut im Jahr 2023 ein Update brauche. Müssen sich Traditionen also anpassen, um mit der Zeit zu gehen oder geben wir ein Stück weit unsere Identität auf, wenn wir sie zu sehr verändern? 

Dazu lohnt ein Blick in eine der grössten Umfragen, die es in der Schweiz je gegeben hat. Das Forschungsinstitut GFS Bern hat dieses Frühjahr im Auftrag der SRG über 57'000 Menschen befragt, unter anderem zur Schweizer Identität. Die Antworten zeigen: Schweizer Identität besteht gemäss einer klaren Mehrheit der Befragten nicht nur aus Dingen, die in der Tradition verwurzelt sind.  Sie ist etwas, das mit der Zeit gehen und sich neuen Bedingungen anpassen kann.

So findet eine Mehrheit, für die Schweizer Identität sei es nicht entscheidend, ob man hier geboren wurde. 54 Prozent finden, das sei eher bis sehr unwichtig. Viel wichtiger als ihre Herkunft ist, wie sich die Menschen verhalten: Schweizer Institutionen und Gesetze zu respektieren oder eine Landessprache zu sprechen, finden 96 respektive 95 Prozent sehr oder eher wichtig für die Schweizer Identität.

Auch sollte man etwas über Kultur und Geschichte wissen, sagt eine Mehrheit. Ob man einer Landesreligion angehört, ist dagegen für gerade einmal 25 Prozent der Befragten relevant, damit jemand ihrer Meinung nach eine Schweizer Identität hat.

Bei der Frage, wie wichtig der Geburtsort für die Schweizer Identität ist, zeigt sich ein starker Kontrast zwischen der italienisch- und der französischsprachigen Schweiz: Im Tessin halten 34 Prozent den Geburtsort Schweiz für sehr wichtig für die Identität, in der Westschweiz finden das nur 9 Prozent. In der Deutschschweiz halten das 21 Prozent für sehr wichtig.

Auch Einwanderer können schweizerisch sein 

Eine entscheidende Rolle für die Schweizer Identität spielt in den Augen der Befragten die direkte Demokratie, also eine der grossen politischen Traditionen des Landes. 98 Prozent finden, sie sei für die Schweizer Identität von zentraler Bedeutung. Auf der anderen Seite sind aber auch 64 Prozent mit der Aussage einverstanden, Einwanderer könnten ihre Werte beibehalten und trotzdem schweizerisch sein.

Fragt man die Menschen, wie es um ihre eigene Identität bestellt ist, zeigt sich ein klares Bild: Drei Viertel bezeichnen sich als ziemlich bis völlig schweizerisch. Hingegen sagt kaum jemand von sich, «unschweizerisch» zu sein.

In diesem Zusammenhang mag auch nicht überraschen, dass 76 Prozent der Befragten der Aussage zustimmen: «Die Schweiz ist das beste Land der Welt, in dem man leben kann!» 

August 1 rituals: How national myths are built and maintained

Nation states cannot shake off the power of religion even if they draw a radical separation between the church and the state – as they also depend on rituals and faith.

Zurich religious scholar David Atwood talks about bonfires, lanterns and the oath of office taken by new members of the Swiss government. 

SWI swissinfo.ch: On August 1 every year, people all over Switzerland lights big bonfires and pay tribute to the nation. There is something archaic about this. As a religious scholar, does it not also make you think of a witches’ sabbath on Walpurgis Night? 

David Atwood: No, I don’t really see it as an occult ritual. But yes, fires have probably been an important part of rituals since the Stone Age.  

SWI: How did the August 1 bonfires originate? 

D.A.: When August 1 was enshrined as Swiss National Day as a ‘reinvention’ at the end of the 19th century, various things were combined. The models for the August 1 bonfires were probably the fires that have a centuries-old tradition in the Alps. Lanterns were added later, as an import from Asia. Traditions are so often the creative result of cultural borrowing. 

SWI: What was the purpose of the original bonfires? 

D.A.: On the one hand, they were used for communication. People lit them to show other small, related groups where they were and if there was any danger. 

SWI: So they were a means of communication for tribal communities? 

D.A.: Precisely. But they also had a protective function and were intended to drive away evil spirits. However, any conclusions about this early phase of humanity can only be speculative, and there are also other theories about their origin. 

SWI: In addition to the bonfires, on August 1 people wave flags with the Swiss cross. Has the white cross on a red background now lost all religious meaning?  

D.A.: It is a Christian symbol that has been turned into a national symbol.  

SWI: In the early days of the Confederation, the Swiss liked to compare themselves with the people of Israel as described in the Bible, in the Book of Genesis. The Swiss also saw themselves as a chosen people. What role has this idea played in building national identity?  

D.A.: It was a very successful idea in the modern era. The Zurich reformer Heinrich Bullinger also claimed that the Swiss were God’s chosen people. They saw themselves as the ones who had Christianised the mountainous regions and thus the intersection between northern and southern Europe, thereby paving the way for the Vatican to the Germanic-pagan north. Intellectuals in the surrounding countries disputed this divine status of the Swiss people – but Switzerland was not the only country to proclaim this. 

In the United States, chosenness is still part of the national rhetoric. In Switzerland, the idea more or less disappeared in the 17th century. 

SWI: The French Revolution stood in clear defiance of religion. The word “saint” was removed from street names, for instance. To what extent is this rivalry between state and religion fundamental to democratic states? 

D.A.: This rivalry was already set forth in the writings of the Church Fathers. As early as the fourth century AD, Augustine spoke of two kingdoms. He asked: How should Christians act towards the Roman state? What should be given to the emperor, and what to God? Similar questions arose during the Thirty Years’ War, which started as a religious conflict. 

Yet in the French Revolution, parts of the state itself were described as sacred for the first time. So not only were saints removed from street names, but churches were turned into “temples to the Goddess of Reason”. 

SWI: The Geneva philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau called this a “civil religion”. What did he mean by this? 

D.A.: At the end of his reflections on the social contract, Rousseau questions how individuals manage to come together to form a community, despite their many different views. How is this possible? Rousseau saw a religion of the citizens as the answer. Everyone must share certain beliefs. 

D.A.: Faith in the constitution. In Rousseau’s view, this also stands above individual religion. Citizens should first of all be believers in the constitution, and only then have a religious affiliation.  

SWI: Can there be too much civil religion?  

D.A.: States can certainly become totalitarian and force their citizens to believe and endorse certain things, cultivating a unified identity beyond the rule of law. By this I do not mean theocratic states like Iran, which become totalitarian in the name of a particular religion. I mean regimes like Germany under National Socialism, where state myths and rituals were assigned a huge role. The torch-lit marches of the Nazis are an example of this – and here we have fire again. 

I think it is important to realise that this civil-religious element is present somewhere in all states. The rivalry between religion and state has closed our eyes to the fact that religion is not only found in churches but also within the state. But this does not suddenly mean that all politicians are actually pastors. 

SWI: Where do you see this civil religion in Switzerland? 

D.A.: In the August 1 speeches, for instance. Each year, politicians answer the questions: Who are we? Where do we come from? Where are we going? They build a national myth – not in the sense of a false history, but the image of the Switzerland we want to live in. This also makes counter-designs possible, like that put forward by the Institute New Switzerland: what is a post-migrant Switzerland? 

D.A.: If we understand religion as the social formation of myths through rituals, then yes. Even in nation states, ceremonies are needed in order to create legitimacy and credibility. Ideas take on a more powerful effect when we stand together in a crowded square; it helps us feel we are part of a community. Societies need staged moments like this in order to thrive. 

D.A.: Take a look at the swearing-in of Swiss Federal Councillors. They have to take an oath, and by so doing they gain a new legal status, as members of the government. This must be accompanied by a ritual.  

The Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben said that every oath, every vow, is a religious act in which we testify that what we are about to say is true. If I lie now, I can be punished for it. Oaths are a typical example of this legal-religious mix. The Swiss Confederation moreover calls itself, in German, an Eidgenossenschaft – that is, an “oath commonwealth”, in reference to the  pacts signed between the different cantons when the country was formed.  

Gender bells, gender bells, ringing in the Alps

The Swiss children’s book Schellen-Ursli (A Bell for Ursli) made the traditional spring festival of “Chalandamarz” world-famous. Now, controversy is simmering in the Swiss Alps, as even the custom’s last strongholds have allowed girls to join in. SWI swissinfo.ch visited Zuoz, a village torn between tradition and gender issues.

It’s the typical Swiss mountain village as pictured by foreigners. Massive stone houses with elaborately painted walls line the streets of Zuoz, a village in the high valley region of Engadine in the eastern Swiss Alps. A fountain decorated with flowers stands in the main square, with its schoolhouse and town hall. And overlooking the village is the internationally renowned boarding school, the Lyceum Alpinum.

But the idyll is deceptive. For nearly a year, the alpine village has been riven with strife. The cause is a culture war between tradition and gender politics – a conflict that is taking place around the globe. In Zuoz, it’s about nothing less than the Engadine region’s best-known custom, Chalandamarz, a procession held each year on March 1 in which the local boys go around the village, ringing bells and singing, in order to drive out the winter.

Just the boys – until today, that is. And therein lay the problem.

Chalandamarz became known to a global audience thanks to the illustrated children’s book A Bell for Ursli. Published immediately after the Second World War, in 1945, the story with its iconic imagery has, over the decades, become Switzerland’s second-most successful children’s book – eclipsed only by Heidi. It has been translated into eight languages, including English, Japanese and Chinese.

The story is about little Ursli, who has been given only a tiny goat’s bell for Chalandamarz. The other boys in the village make fun of him because of this. As a result, Ursli will have to walk at the back of the cowbell procession – an ignominy he cannot accept. So he fights his way through the deep snow to the family’s Alpine hut, where a huge cowbell hangs. He returns to the village with it the next day, and is now allowed to lead the procession because he has the biggest bell.

It’s an emancipation story with a male cast. Ursli also has a sister, Flurina, but, like all the other girls in the village, she is not allowed to join in the procession. This gender division probably didn’t bother anyone in the 1940s. In Zuoz, which for years left the tradition untouched, the issue has now sparked controversy.

What set it all off was an initiative by the municipal council to open up the custom. The idea was that the girls should be treated completely equally – that is, also take part in the procession, sing along and wear blue peasant smocks and red tassel hats, just like the boys.

This is required not least by the principle of equality enshrined in the Federal Constitution, which is binding on all schools in Switzerland. In Zuoz, which takes the tradition more seriously than almost any other village in the Engadine, Chalandamarz is a compulsory part of the school year.

But the revolution met with resistance. The voting at the municipal assembly last June revealed the deep rift running through the village. While many women, in particular, spoke out in favour of girls’ participation, one voter declared that for him Chalandamarz would no longer be the same. Someone else suggested involving the girls in a different way: “They could decorate the festival hall, for instance.”

The mayor felt compelled to make a spontaneous move and withdrew the proposal for reconsideration. However, the controversy remained. It was a topic best avoided at family mealtimes, one resident confided during a visit by SWI Swissinfo.ch late last summer. She herself was in favour of the revision, she said. Others meanwhile, including some women, just shook their heads. It was unthinkable that Engadine customs should be overturned by gender activists from the lowlands, they said.

Mischa Gallati, cultural scientist and lecturer at the University of Zurich, is not surprised by the scepticism reigning in Zuoz. The tradition originated at a time when society was clearly organised along gender lines. If the ritual were changed, then this duality would also be called into question. “It’s linked to fears. There’s a defensiveness, a falling back on traditional patterns,” he says.

But this is only one aspect of the dispute, according to Gallati. The discord within the municipal assembly showed that the whole issue was also a proxy debate. “Customs have their dark side. They are always also about exclusion, about who has power, and who belongs.”

As in many Swiss mountain villages, locals and newcomers stand opposed in Zuoz. This confrontation is exacerbated because the language spoken here is Romansh, a Swiss national language spoken by about 50,000 people. Many of the newcomers make no attempt to learn it.

Despite the resistance, however, Gallati takes it for granted that the custom will change, as has already happened in other nearby villages. Customs are an instrument of self-affirmation, he explains. Chalandamarz dates back to an agrarian society, where the passing of the seasons was central. “These rituals were built around this, and now they are being charged with new content,” he says.

Andrea Könz takes a more critical view of the change. She is the widow of Steivan Liun Könz, son of the author of A Bell for Ursli. Of course, traditions have to evolve, she agrees, “but my main criticism of the modernisation is that the symbolism behind the custom is no longer understood”. Chalandamarz is a fertility cycle, she explains, and the big bells have phallic connotations. “So does it make sense to put them on the girls?”

Könz also sees a culture clash in the Zuoz debate. It was mothers from the lowlands who pressured for equal rights in the mountain villages, she says. “They didn’t see why their daughters should be left out.” It is all their demands as a whole that bother Könz. Her daughter also wanted to take part in Chalandamarz in the village of Guarda, where they lived for a long time and where A Bell for Ursli is also set.

That was back in the 1990s. Like other Engadine communities, Guarda discussed whether to include girls several years ago. “But the gender debate wasn’t as crazy back then as it is today,” Könz says.

Diversity, she believes, is too often linked to outward appearance, and equality is confused with uniformity. In many villages, girls had their own role in the ritual. This is where she sees a potential for renewing the custom without betraying it. “It’s then a matter of not simply devaluing the role of girls as insignificant, but of giving it equal attention,” she says.

Zuoz chose a way out of the dilemma that is both Swiss and un-Swiss. This year, girls took part in the procession for the first time, dressed in the same way as the boys, but without carrying bells.

A committee, tasked by the municipal council with resolving the issue, reached this compromise on its own. The decision was not brought before the community, which was instead presented with facts on the ground – uncharacteristically for Switzerland, which functions as a direct democracy.

According to Ramun Ratti, vice-president and interim mayor of Zuoz, the “vast majority of community members” were in agreement that girls should also participate. So now, with the custom’s new look, peace should return to the village.

Chalandamarz is important for cohesion and identification, Ratti stresses. He also feels pressure from the lowlands. “If you look at the big picture, we’re in the minority.” 

Ratti strongly believes that the gender debate must be addressed. “But it’s important to develop the tradition carefully.” This has always been the case, he explains. “The blue smocks and red hats were only added on in Zuoz after the war.”

Moreover, the whole purpose of the tradition has changed, he says. “In the past, there was a link with mercenaries: as well as driving away the winter, it was an occasion for the boys to present themselves in the village.”

Today, he says, the event is mainly for children. This is perhaps what influenced his thinking most. “My daughter was really looking forward to taking part,” he says.

Edited by Balz Rigendinger. Translated from German by Julia Bassam

"On les traite de machos maintenant. C'est dommage"

Début janvier, la Société des tireurs à la cible de Payerne a refusé l'intégration des femmes. Mais ce n'est pas la seule société ou association non-mixte. Est-ce problématique, alors qu'on parle de plus en plus d'égalité ? Un reportage de l'émission 15 minutes. 

Le sujet fait largement parler dans la ville vaudoise de Payerne en ce début d'année. Par 440 non et 203 oui, les membres de cette société historique ont refusé l'accès aux femmes. Le traditionnel Tirage restera masculin. Au sein de la Fédération des abbayes vaudoises, cette confrérie fait partie des 81 encore exclusivement masculines, contre 94 mixtes.

Dans un restaurant de la commune, le sujet anime les discussions. Pour ce membre, le problème ne vient pas de l'activité du tir, mais plutôt de la fête qui suit. "On se retrouve entre mecs. Ça n'arrive qu'une fois par année. Vous n'aimez pas vous retrouver entre copains?"

"Le tir est seulement une excuse. Je n'ai rien contre les filles qui tirent. Y en a qui tirent beaucoup mieux que moi". Un de ses amis d'enchérir, "les femmes casseraient l'ambiance". Contacté, l’abbé-président de la société n’a lui pas souhaité revenir sur ce vote.

Certains avis sont parfois plus difficile à recueillir. Comme celui de cet homme, acquis à la mixité, mais qui ne veut pas s’attirer d’ennuis. "Je suis scandalisée. On les traite de machos maintenant. C'est dommage", explique une Payernoise, qui estime aussi que les filles n'ont peut-être pas amené le sujet "très diplomatiquement".

Derrière cette démarche d'intégration, il y a un groupe de 17 femmes de la région: les Adélaïdes. "C'est compliqué de se dire qu'on n'a pas le droit d'entrer, juste parce qu'on est une femme", explique Salomé Barth, 21 ans, qui fait partie de ce collectif.

A Payerne, le sujet divise aussi les femmes. Les filles de la Jeunesse se sont publiquement distanciées des Adélaïdes. "Laissons-les. C'est la seule chose qu'il leur reste aux mecs!", affirme une habitante, mariée à un membre de la société. Elle ne croit pas à une intégration des femmes avant une dizaine d'années: "en plus ils n'ont pas besoin des femmes pour remplir les salles. Il y a assez de membres". La société en compte aujourd'hui près d'un millier.

Il existe aussi des groupes de femmes qui décident de rester uniquement entre elles. A Neuchâtel, pas loin de l'Université, on trouve le local d’Hétaïra. Une association 100% étudiantes. "Les fondatrices voulaient une société avec leurs propres règles, plutôt que de s'incruster dans une société masculine", explique Vanessa Fernandes, l'actuelle présidente.

Mais pourquoi créer une société uniquement réservée aux femmes? "On crée un 'safe space'. Un climat de confiance. On parle librement de sujets qui touchent les femmes. L'inconvénient, c'est de ne pas avoir un point de vue masculin."

"Forcément, aujourd'hui, on se demande si Zofingue doit s'adapter à ce changement sociétal. Je pense qu'à l'avenir, nous allons nous ouvrir aux femmes.", explique Scott Greinig, membre de la société.

"Il y a une vraie différence entre la jeune génération et l'ancienne", analyse Vincent Pheulpin, président des Vieux-Zofingiens de Neuchâtel. Il craint que la mixité remette en cause beaucoup de traditions. "Les hommes entre eux ne se comportent pas de la même manière s'il y a une femme. On perdrait de la spontanéité". Les deux s'accordent à dire que les membres ne sont pas encore mûrs pour accepter des femmes.

>> Ecouter le reportage complet de Quinze minutes:

Le Valais accueille la première édition des Championnats du monde de raclette

Le fumet de la raclette enveloppera Morgins ce week-end. La station valaisanne vivra la première édition des Championnats du monde de la raclette, durant lesquels 90 fromages seront dégustés. Les résultats tomberont dimanche.

Les jurés se retrouveront samedi dans une salle au centre du village de Morgins pour déguster les différentes meules de fromage réparties en trois catégories: lait cru d'alpage, lait cru de laiterie et autres fromages à raclette, explique Christophe Berra, président du comité d'organisation de cette première édition.

"Pour qu'un fromage soit en appellation 'alpage', il faut que le lait soit produit et transformé à l'alpage. Si l'une des conditions n'est pas réunie, il perd l'appellation", précise Laurent Ecoeur, agriculteur et fromager à Val-d'Illiez (VS) et co-organisateur du concours.

Quatre-vingt-sept producteurs, en majorité valaisans, sont sur les rangs avec un ou deux fromages. Parmi eux figurent aussi les seize producteurs du Val d'Illiez. "Cela montre un vrai soutien à la manifestation", se réjouit Christophe Berra.

Il y aura aussi des meules en provenance de Fribourg, Vaud, Neuchâtel ou encore de Suisse alémanique. D'autres auront roulé leurs bosses depuis la France, l'Italie, la Belgique et, plus étonnant, depuis la Roumanie, le Canada et la Grande-Bretagne.

Derrière le candidat canadien se cache un Valaisan exilé, producteur de fromage à raclette outre-Atlantique. Le Roumain, de son côté, a tellement pris goût au fromage fondu lorsqu'il est venu exercer en Valais qu'il a décidé d'en produire chez lui, raconte Christophe Berra.

Les organisateurs espéraient aussi séduire le Japon, le Brésil et l'Argentine, mais des complications administratives et des délais trop courts ont contrarié leurs plans. Ce sera pour une prochaine édition, assure le président du comité d'organisation.

Un jury composé de 50 professionnels et consommateurs écrémera les meules candidates et n'en retiendra que le 20%. Cette sélection sera ensuite appréciée par huit jurés reconnus sur le plan international: les Français Laetitia Gaborit et Bernard Mure-Ravaud, le Belge Philippe Moreau et les Suisses Eddy Baillifard, François Raemy, Roger Dubosson, Andréas Leibundgut et Edith Beutler.

Couleur, tenue, texture, puissance, arômes: rien ne sera laissé au hasard. "La dégustation s'apparente à une dégustation de vin", note Christophe Berra.

"On ne va pas juger le fromage, on va juger la raclette. Vu que les fromages sont envoyés d'un peu partout, ils nous sont envoyés sous vide, prêts à être raclés. On ne peut donc pas juger de l'aspect extérieur du fromage", précise encore Laurent Ecoeur. Et d'ajouter: "Dans la grille d'évaluation, comptent notamment la première impression qui vient à l'approche de la raclette dans l'assiette, et l'impression générale. Il y a aussi la texture: il faut qu'elle soit coulante".

Une douzaine de racleurs s'activeront en coulisses, dans une salle séparée et invisible au public. Briefés, ces bénévoles auront la lourde tâche de réaliser des raclettes parfaites, notamment à la bonne température et sans "brûlures" sur le dessus. Au total, 250 personnes gravitent bénévolement autour de ces mondiaux.

Le podium gagnant pour chaque catégorie de fromage sera révélé dimanche.

Les experts n'auront pas le monopole du fromage. Dès vendredi, le grand public pourra, lui aussi, fondre au rythme des raclettes via des dégustations, des ateliers et autres animations.

Le budget de cette première édition se monte à 450'000 francs, financés notamment par les communes de la vallée, la région Dents du Midi et du sponsoring. A l'issue de cette édition, les organisateurs tireront un bilan."Si celui-ci est positif, les championnats seront reconduits", annonce Christophe Berra.

Podcast – Pourquoi on aime autant le fromage en Suisse?

En Suisse, on aime le fromage. Les plus populaires s'appellent Appenzeller, Tilsiter, Tête de Moine, Emmental… sans oublier la raclette et la fondue, tant à l'intérieur qu'à l'extérieur du pays. Et quand la justice américaine ose dire que notre Gruyère peut ne pas être fabriqué en Suisse, les réactions sont vives. Mais pourquoi on aime autant le fromage en Suisse? 

Le fromage suisse a la cote. En 2020, la consommation par habitant a augmenté de 5,5% en Suisse, pour atteindre 23,1 kg en moyenne. Au même titre que le chocolat et les montres, il s'exporte aussi très bien, 77'000 tonnes s'en sont vendues à l'étranger, soit un marché d'environ 694 millions de francs. Preuve, s'il en fallait encore une, de l'amour des Suisses pour leurs fromages, le tollé suscité par la récente décision d'un juge fédéral américain qui a décrété que le terme gruyère était devenu "générique" aux États-Unis et qu'il n'était donc plus réservé aux produits originaires de Suisse.

Dans Le Point J, Jérémie Forney, anthropologue et enseignant à l'Université de Neuchâtel, spécialiste des systèmes agro-alimentaires, qui a beaucoup travaillé sur les produits laitiers, explique les raisons de cet amour inconditionnel pour le fromage, en Suisse, entre respect d'un patrimoine ancestral et appartenance à une identité nationale.

Il y a une longue histoire d'amour entre la Suisse et le fromage, qui tient à son climat et sa topographie, mais aussi à des raisons sociales, culturelles et historiques

Fromage suisse et représentation idyllique des alpages

"Par son climat et sa topographie, la Suisse est propice à la production laitière", explique Jérémie Forney, mais selon lui l'histoire d'amour entre la Suisse et le fromage tient également à des aspects sociaux, culturels et historiques. Et malgré les courants vegan ou les problématiques liées à l'élevage, "une immense majorité de gens continuent de relier l'image des fromages suisses à leur représentation idyllique des alpages et des vaches heureuses et libres dans les pâturages". Même chose vu de l'étranger, l'image de la Suisse reste associée au fromage grâce au marketing et aux activités touristiques qui sont développées dans de nombreuses régions du pays autour de ces produits.

Aujourd'hui, on recense plus de 1500 variétés différentes de fromage, en Suisse, selon Dominik Flammer, journaliste, écrivain, spécialiste de l'histoire des produits du terroir et auteur notamment du livre Fromages Suisses paru en 2010 chez Glénat qui recense, également, dans cet épisode, les meilleures variétés et la liste est longue, car la réputation du fromage suisse tient à sa qualité supérieure.

Davy Bailly-Basin et l'équipe du Point J

Dumonda?

Ein Muni für den Sieger: Tierschützer kritisieren Brauchtum

Im Schwingen ist es Tradition, dass die Sieger ein Tier bekommen. Tierschützer halten das für Quälerei.

Der Muni «Magnus» ist der Hauptpreis am ESAF in Pratteln. Eine imposante, kräftige Erscheinung. Rund eine Tonne bringt er auf die Waage, ist 1.80 Meter gross und gut 30'000 Franken wert.

Unter Schwingern ist es eine besondere Ehre, solch ein eindrückliches Tier zu gewinnen: «Für die meisten ist es ein Kindheitstraum, mit einem Muni seinen Sieg zu feiern. Es ist eine Ehre, so ein mächtiges, kräftiges Tier gewinnen zu dürfen», sagt Schwinger Marcel Räbsamen. Am Eidgenössischen in Pratteln stehen für die Sieger insgesamt elf sogenannte Lebendpreise bereit.

Das ist eine grosse Belastung für die Tiere. Darauf kann man sie nicht vorbereiten.

Kein Verständnis für diese Tradition hat Julika Fitzi-Rathgen von der Organisation Schweizer Tierschutz. «Das ist eine grosse Belastung für die Tiere. Auf den Lärm und die Situation in der Arena kann man die Tiere nicht vorbereiten», sagt die Leiterin der tierärztlichen Beratungsstelle beim Schweizer Tierschutz.

Lebendpreise seien schlicht nicht mehr zeitgemäss. «Da sind auch trächtige Tiere darunter. Wenn wir hier das Tierwohl und die Tradition einander gegenüberstellen, ist das ein No-Go.» Das gehe schon in den Bereich von Tierquälerei, so Fitzi-Rathgen. «Grundsätzlich denke ich, dass lebende Tiere keine Geschenke sein sollten.»

Diese Kritik will Urs Schneider nicht auf sich sitzen lassen. Er ist am ESAF für die Lebendpreise verantwortlich. «Wer die Tiere hier am ESAF beobachtet, merkt gleich, die sind nicht gestresst. Sie fressen, liegen, kauen ihr Futter. Ein gestresstes Tier würde sich anders verhalten», sagt Schneider.

Wer die Tiere hier am ESAF beobachtet, merkt gleich, die sind nicht gestresst.

Er sei sich seiner Verantwortung den Tieren gegenüber bewusst und tue alles für ihr Wohl. Sie würden rund um die Uhr von fünf Personen betreut. Ausserdem betont Schneider, dass die Lebendpreise ein wichtiger Bestandteil des ESAF  seien: «Wir sind überzeugt, das ist kein alter Zopf, sondern eine gelebte und schöne Tradition, die mehrere hundert Jahre alt ist.»

In der Schweiz sind Lebendpreise heutzutage weitgehend symbolischer Natur. Nicht einmal zehn Prozent von ihnen werden am Ende wirklich abgegeben. Da die Schwinger kaum mehr als Landwirte arbeiten, nehmen sie lieber den Gegenwert als Geld. 

So hat zum Beispiel auch Christian Stucki, Schwingerkönig am ESAF 2019 in Zug, den Siegermuni «Kolin», nicht nach Hause genommen. Trotzdem ist die Tradition unter den Schwingern beliebt.

Trotzdem ist das eine sehr schöne und wichtige Tradition, die wir weiter pflegen sollten.

«Meistens tauchen die Sieger den Lebendpreis gegen Geld ein. Trotzdem ist das eine sehr schöne und wichtige Tradition, die wir weiter pflegen sollten», sagt etwa Schwinger Kilian von Weissenfluh. Ähnlich sieht es Schwinger-Kollege Severin Schwander: «Es ist für jeden schön, einen Lebendpreis zu bekommen. Auch wenn es nur Prestige ist und sich die meisten am Ende damit einen Batzen auszahlen lassen.»

Neben den Diskussionen um die Lebendpreise gibt auch der Gesundheitszustand von Siegermuni «Magnus» zu reden. Er hat sich verletzt und es ist unklar, ob er für die Preisverleihung wieder fit ist.

Es gehe «Magnus» wieder besser, sagt Urs Schneider, Verantwortlicher für die Tiere am ESAF. Er sei nicht mehr in der Klinik und wieder zurück auf dem Hof. Trotzdem sei noch offen, ob er für die Preisübergabe genug fit ist, so Schneider. «Wir hoffen alle, dass es reicht.» 

How Halloween became part of Swiss culture

The Swiss calendar is packed with bizarre and often alarming traditions. Is there room for Halloween? Yes, say delighted children and pumpkin-sellers. Some neighbours and cultural purists are less sure.

“Süsses oder Saures!” “Des bonbons ou un sort!” Thirty years ago, most Swiss wouldn’t have had a clue what was going on if they had opened their front door to find a couple of eight-year-olds, high on sugar and dressed as witches or skeletons, shrieking “trick or treat!”.

Since the mid-1990s, Halloween has embedded itself, albeit weakly, in Swiss cultural life. “Like Oktoberfests, which now also intoxicate town and country in Switzerland,” wrote the St. Galler Tagblatt, referring to German beer festivals.

“Cultural pessimists see domestic customs threatened. And evangelical Christians in particular reject Halloween because it’s about occultism and Satanism – regardless of the fact that the event has long since ceased to have any serious religious traits and is largely commercialised. Folklorists rather than theologians are responsible for Halloween, and marketing experts and event organisers for its spread in our country.”

The evolution of Halloween is murky, but in a simplified nutshell, it is thought to have originated with pagan Celtic traditions, such as the ancient Gaelic festival of Samhain, when people would light bonfires and wear costumes to ward off ghosts.

In the eighth century, Pope Gregory III designated November 1 as a day to honour all saints. Soon, All Saints’ Day incorporated some of the traditions of Samhain. The evening before was known as All Hallows’ Eve, and later Halloween.  

Mass Irish and Scottish emigration in the 19th century resulted in Halloween taking off in the United States, eventually being celebrated by people of all social, racial and religious backgrounds. By the late 20th and early 21st century, through US cultural influence, Halloween had spread to many regions around the world, including to mainland Europe.

The tradition crept into French-speaking Switzerland from France, and then into German-speaking Switzerland, according to folklorist Konrad Kuhn, who confirmed that Halloween wasn’t an issue in Switzerland before the mid-1990s.

It took a few years for the larger retailers and the media to get interested, but what really gave Halloween a boost in Switzerland was farmers’ discovery, at the same time, of the pumpkin as a new source of income, Kuhn wrote in Kürbis, Kommerz und Kult: Halloween und Kürbisfest zwischen Gegenwartsbrauch und Marketing (Pumpkin, commerce and cult: Halloween and the pumpkin festival between contemporary custom and marketing), published in “Folklore Suisse” in 2010.

A pioneering role was played by the media-savvy Jucker brothers in canton Zurich, whose farm soon became known throughout Switzerland for its pumpkins and events such as records for the biggest pumpkin pyramid, the biggest pumpkin soup, the heaviest pumpkin and so on. The media lapped this up, and countless farmers followed their example and flooded Switzerland with pumpkins, which until then had been eaten sparingly but which now filled home kitchens and restaurants.

In 1991, 230 tonnes of pumpkins were sold in Switzerland. By 2000, it was around 10,000 tonnes, according to this SWI swissinfo.ch article from 2001.

“The Juckers took advantage of the traditional November gap in the event sector, so that in addition to the major retailers, amusement parks, catering establishments and costume shops also showed interest and achieved high sales,” Kuhn said.

However, it appears that Halloween then took a slight hit. Halloween sales at the country’s two biggest supermarkets, Migros and Coop, plummeted in 2007.

At the same time, media coverage of Halloween changed, Kuhn said. “While earlier there had been favourable reports and Halloween had even made it onto daytime television, now the focus was mainly on the damage to property committed during the night by prowling youths”.

In 2021, Lausanne newspaperLe Matin said the police were well aware that little monsters for one evening can really be just that: little monsters.

“In recent years, more and more people have had the unpleasant surprise of finding eggs thrown at the front of their house or windows,” it said. “While the threat of ‘trick or treat’ is supposed to be no more than a threat, some children really do take revenge on those who don’t give them anything or open the door for them.”

The police pointed out that participation in Halloween “is not compulsory” and that refusal shouldn’t lead to reprisals, “however harmless they may seem”.

Today, October 31 means Swiss department stores offering “Halloween deals”, restaurants still throwing pumpkin into everything, and cinemas showing classic horror films.

“Playing with spooky things is catching on in ever wider circles,” the St. Galler Tagblattnoted on Tuesday morning. “Many people have fun with it, organising Halloween parties where they walk through the living room dressed up as zombies with a glass of blood-coloured liquid and dip tortilla chips into guacamole ‘vomited up’ from a pumpkin.”

While Halloween in Switzerland is still far from the massive national celebration it is in the United States, those Swiss who celebrate it really go for it, with adults seemingly trying to outdo each other regarding impressively gory make-up.

Costumes in the US are generally more humorous or satirical, but the Swiss have a chance to do satire during the carnival season. It should also be pointed out that the Swiss are no strangers to eyebrow-raising customs, such as decapitating a dead swan or holding down young girls and putting blackface on them:

And as Kuhn noted, elements of Halloween can be found in other customs that are widespread in Switzerland, such as the carved turnip with a candle as in the Räbeliechtli procession, asking for something at the front door as in carol singing, or the elements of commemorating the dead on All Saints’ Day.

As for whether Halloween is gaining or losing popularity in Switzerland, it’s hard to say. Some neighbourhoods put on well-organised parties for adults and are teeming with skeletons and witches. Social media enables parents to create maps of which houses are tricking or treating. Other streets are dead.

But Kuhn was confident that the tradition would continue in some form. “The need for a yearly cycle shaped by highlights continues, so it can be assumed that Halloween [...] will be innovatively integrated into the existing customs landscape”.

The pumpkin, he added, also seems to have found its place beyond Halloween parties by being carved as a family and then put on display: “a family custom during the dark season”.

Tapping into Swiss sweet-toothed nostalgia

It is not always easy for the Swiss abroad to find their favourite childhood chocolate bars or other specialist products like Rivella or Ovomaltine when they are thousands of miles from home. The Huber brothers, Dominik and Manuel, claim to offer an online solution.

“For me nothing beats sipping a Rivella [soft drink] or munching on Swiss sweets to help feel less home sick,” declares Verena, who lives in California, United States.

A growing number of nostalgic Swiss like Verena, seeking to indulge a sweet tooth or stay in touch with their homeland via Swiss food products, use the services of Swiss Food Box and My Swiss World.

The two small online companies were founded in 2015 by brothers Dominik and Manuel Huber. At the time, Dominik was living in Colombia, where he was studying economics and on the look-out for a new business idea.

As a regular customer at Lindt chocolate shops in the capital Bogota, he realised that other Swiss abroad probably had cravings for Swiss chocolate and other well-known childhood goodies.

After carrying out research and discovering that no such firms existed, he decided to launch Swiss Food Box together with his brother, who is an IT expert.

Their business concept is simple. Customers pay a monthly subscription, ranging from CHF19.95 ($21.87) to CHF59.95 ($65.70), for one of three different food boxes (Swiss chocolate pack, Swiss sweets or a classic Swiss food box). A customised selection is also possible.

In 2020, the brothers launched a second online company and site, My Swiss World, which offers Swiss specialities but without a monthly subscription.

For several days a month, Dominik Huber’s flat is packed to the ceiling with boxes and food products.

“That’s why I don’t have much furniture,” he jokes.

The company sends around 300 monthly orders from Winterthur in northeast Switzerland. Last Christmas, they smashed the 500-mark. Around 60 individual food parcels (average CHF90) are also sent out each month.

Half of their customers live in the United States, while Canada, Australia, New Zealand and Britain represent around 30% of their market. The remaining 20% are based mainly in Europe.

“Initially, most of the communication with customers was in English. These countries have the largest communities of Swiss abroad,” explains Dominik. “The further away from Switzerland you live, the harder it is to find these products.”

Swiss Food Box and My Swiss World do not have partnership deals with food brands or distribution firms. Dominik buys the products in specialist shops or directly from manufacturers. He also takes advantage of special offers in supermarkets.

“Sometimes staff look at me slightly strangely when they see me emptying the shelves of crisps or chocolate,” he says.

Their online stores do not offer meat or alcohol as it is forbidden to import them into many countries. Imported cheese must also be made using pasteurised milk.

“You have to be careful with expiry dates,” adds Dominik.

Since their launch, the business has become a success and the young entrepreneurs have many loyal customers.

“One woman who lives in Chicago has been signed up since the first month we started the food boxes,” says Dominik.

Over time, he has got to know many of their customers, like a woman in the US who regularly orders Ovomaltine products.

The most popular products ordered are mustard, paprika crisps, Cailler chocolate bars and mayonnaise.

“For over a year, one of our customers in Canada ordered just mayonnaise – six or seven tubes a month – via our personalised service,” says Dominik.

The Swiss, who is almost 30 years old, manages to live solely from the online business. His brother has another job as a consultant. But they get help from their father, who is retired.

“Swiss Food Box has become a small family company – 100% DIY,” says Dominik.

This is probably one of the reasons for its success – a small, flexible firm that knows its customers well. Swiss Food Box doesn’t rent offices or storeroom space and it uses social media for targeted advertising.

And as for the competition, Dominik doesn’t seem too worried.

“We are working in a market that is too small for the big operators,” he says, referring to Swiss Post’s Swiss Authentic Shop, an online store for the Swiss abroad that closed last summer after only nine months.

Von «Fuckbrett» bis Techno: Schweizer Volksmusik 2.0

Die einst als verstaubt geltende Schweizer Volksmusik ist seit Jahren auf dem Vormarsch. 2007 landeten der Jodlerklub Wiesenberg und Schlagersängerin Francine Jordi den Hit «Das Feyr Vo Dr Sehnsucht». 2021 gewann das Familien-Trio «Tüüfner Gruess» die TV-Show «Stadt, Land Talent». In den Schweizer Album-Charts belegen die Jodlergruppe «Heimweh» und das «Ländlertrio Rusch-Bueblä» Spitzenplätze.

Parallel zu diesem Aufschwung weht ein frischer Wind durch die Szene. Immer öfter wird mit aus der Volksmusik bekannten Instrumenten oder Besetzungen moderne Musik gespielt. 

Zudem werden vergessen gegangene, in der Schweizer Folklore einst verbreitete Instrumente neu entdeckt. Kannten Sie etwa die Hanottere?

Für viele ist Volksmusik noch immer der Soundtrack der SVP. 

Dieter Ringli, Volksliederforscher und Musiker, hat ein Standardwerk zur Schweizer Volksmusik verfasst. Er erklärt, dass die vermeintliche Urform – der Ländler mit Handorgel – relativ jung ist.  Nach einem Boom in den 1930- und 40er-Jahren entwickelte sich der Ländler nicht mehr weiter. Ringlis Fazit: «Für viele ist Volksmusik noch immer der Soundtrack der SVP.» 

Musiker, die wissen, wie moderne Volksmusik geht

Doch die Stagnation in der Schweizer Volksmusikszene gehört der Vergangenheit an. Das stellen verschiedene Persönlichkeiten der Schweizer Musikszene unter Beweis.

Ein prägender Volksmusikkomponist der Gegenwart ist Markus Flückiger. Mit seinem Schwyzerörgeli betritt der Virtuose seit Jahren immer wieder musikalisches Neuland. Seine Melodien tönen nicht nach gestern, sondern stossen auch bei der jüngeren Hörerschaft auf Anklang.

Ein weiterer Exponent der neuen Volksmusik ist Andreas Gabriel. Der Geiger lotet mit seinem Trio «Ambäck» die Grenzen der Volksmusik aus. Was Gabriels Spiel stets kennzeichnet: horrendes Tempo.

Volksmusik und Techno – beinahe verwandt

«Ambäck»-Bassist Pirmin Huber verkörpert die neue Offenheit der Schweizer Volkmusik. Er findet: «Techno und Ländler liegen sehr nah beieinander.» Den Beweis liefert seine Formation «Stereo Kulisse».

«Fuckbrett» heisst ein Album von Chris Pfändler. Der innovative Schweizer Hackbrettspieler fühlt sich nämlich auch im Rock und Heavy-Metal zuhause – also Musikstile, in denen man das altertümliche Instrument eigentlich nicht vermutet.  Ausserdem ist Pfändler fester Bestandteil der Pop-Combo «Kunz».

Lang ist die Liste jener, deren Schaffen den traditionellen Rahmen ausweiten. Zu den Innovatoren, ja gar Reformatoren, gehört auch Klarinettist Dani Häusler, bekannt aus zahllosen Auftritten bei «SRF bi de Lüt» und als Radio-Moderator der «SRF Musikwelle».

Für den Routinier mit über 30 Jahren Bühnenerfahrung zählen auch Nadja Räss (Jodel), Mathias Landtwing (Klarinette), Kristina Brunner (Schwyzerörgeli & Cello) und Fränggi Gehrig zur Fraktion der Neuerer – um nur ein paar Namen zu nennen. 

Schweizer Volksmusik als gegen jeglichen Fortschritt resistente Bastion? Von wegen! Immer wieder beweisen hiesige Formationen wie die «Kapelle Hütte-Höckler» mit kreativen Beiträgen, dass in der nationalen Musikszene von «Flasche leer» keine Rede sein kann.

Chattai ora nua che Vus stais

Absinthe, métairies ou carillons, 29 tradition vivantes officiellement reconnues

Production d'absinthe à Neuchâtel, nage en hiver lors de la Coupe de Noël à Genève ou pratique du patois fribourgeois et du dialecte singinois: 29 nouvelles traditions vivantes rejoignent la liste de l'Office fédéral de la culture (OFC), dont 12 pour la Suisse romande.

Au niveau national, les trois langues des signes, la randonnée pédestre, le forgeage, les "scènes démo" qui permettent de créer des animations générées par ordinateur ainsi que la créativité numérique font désormais partie des 228 traditions vivantes, indique mardi l'OFC dans un communiqué.

La Fédération suisse des sourds se réjouit de la reconnaissance des langues des signes, mais elle demande un pas supplémentaire, avec une reconnaissance juridique.

Ailleurs en Suisse romande, les excursions naturalistes (NE), le carillon valaisan, la fonte de cloches en bronze pour le bétail (BE, FR, NE, VS), les métairies dans le Jura bernois, les régates lémaniques (GE, VD, VS) ou le théâtre amateur (JU, BE, FR, NE, VS) sont valorisés.

Outre-Sarine, on peut noter les petits téléphériques en Suisse centrale (UR, NW, OW, SZ, LU), la pêche à la potence (BS, BL, AG), la Bandella (musique de fanfare tessinoise) ou le filage de laine dans le Val Verzasca (TI).

La liste actualisée met aussi en avant l'apport des traditions vivantes à la durabilité écologique, souligne l'OFC. Le savoir sur l'utilisation de l'énergie hydraulique et d'autres énergies renouvelables dans les cantons de Berne et du Valais est ainsi mis à l'honneur.

Un préalable avant une nomination à l'international

Vossa selecziun