Switzerland and the Nordic Union
Introduction
Switzerland has spent the past century and a half torn in the middle of European conflict, often finding itself facing off against either of its two great neighbors. While typically politically aligned with the French, the mountain nation has strong cultural ties to The Holy Roman Empire, with many other groups desiring a stronger political relationship. Additionally, both of these great powers had in the past gone to war with the Swiss, resulting in a constant concern of future invasion. Following the economic downturn coinciding with the Great Famine, some more brazen Swiss politicians saw an opportunity to use the nation’s wealth to secure itself against its neighbors. The federal government narrowly cut a deal with the Nordic Union, in which they would nominally be given membership in exchange for extensive investment into the Jump Gate program in the city of Kalmar. Their admission into the customs union was considered a controversial move by many, with conservatives decrying the sudden, seemingly thoughtless act, and even many progressive politicians voicing concerns over the haste. Regardless of how the decision plays out, the maneuver will drastically change the Confederation’s stance in the war to come.
Swiss Policy Before the Famine
The Swiss people never had an opportunity to recuse themselves from the greater conflicts of Europe, contrary to the desires of many. During the Napoleonic Wars, the alpine nation was invaded, occupied, reformed, and inevitably released from foreign control. While it is often stated that The Holy Roman Empire was the greater culprit in this bullying of Switzerland, it is impossible to ignore the blunt, and often ham-fisted approach by Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte. He sponsored the creation of the modern Swiss Confederation in 1803, a government he hoped could adequately replace the Helvetic Republic as a more independent buffer state with The Holy Roman Empire. This remained the case for only about two years, as the Black Pact of Schönbrunn, which ended the bulk of hostilities in the Napoleonic Wars, placed the Swiss in a political gray area. They were allowed full independence from the H.R.E., but were also allowed to maintain their close ties with the Holy See, continuing their centuries old mercenary tradition of protecting the Vatican. This ongoing relationship later embroiled the Confederation in conflict with the very nation they saw as liberators.
The Italian Wars of the 1850s greatly divided Europe, and often dragged nations only tangentially involved into the fray. In the case of Switzerland, the continued operation of the Swiss Guard in Rome greatly strained relations with the French, who were supporting the revolutionary Neapolitan government. As open war broke out between the H.R.E. and France, the question of nominal Swiss Neutrality bore heavy on French war room discussion. Ultimately, a swift strike through the Swiss alps was decided to be the best maneuver to avoid the heavily fortified line along the Rhine. Either the French would facilitate this passage as a “truly neutral” nation, or they would be crushed as Holy Roman sympathizers. The professional military of the Swiss managed to hold out for some time, but were eventually whittled down by the sheer numbers of the French.
Switzerland survived the clash with France, with all land lost being restored at the peace talks in 1859, but their relationship with their western neighbors never recovered. While they often shared similarities in political policy, the general populace remained bitter over the invasion for the next half-century, with Swiss statesmen only interacting as part of larger, multi-state conventions. War paranoia was endemic in the Confederation, and fear mongering became a common platform for both federal government and local Landsgemeinde. The paranoia eventually turned east, with the fear that the H.R.E. may attempt to reincorporate them into the empire. This being said, neither France nor The Holy Roman Empire had any obvious intention of striking out against the Swiss, and even so their role in European economics would ensure massive international repercussions for any attempted invasion.
Debts of Alpine Scale
In spite of deeply rooted paranoia among members of society, the Swiss Confederation was very profitable in the early twentieth century. This success was largely due to the highly successful banking firms of Switzerland’s great cities. It is said (primarily in jest) that the entirety of The Russo-Japanese War was fought within the confines of a Zürich bank vault, as both nations were known to have taken a series of loans at the outbreak of the war. The anecdote, while exaggerated, highlights a valuable asset of the Swiss economy; its immense liquidity. The banks of the Alps were not simply institutions catering to the expansion of corporate endeavors, but were supporting the continuing governance of entire nation-states.
The greatest extent of this power was amidst the many troubles of the 1920s, when Europe was ravaged by disease, famine, and economic downturn. The large public works projects and quarantine efforts undertaken by nearby nations often required immediate injections of funding in order to get started, and the Swiss had that in abundance. What’s more is that Switzerland was not nearly as heavily affected by the fungal infestation as other countries, and its stable economy was able to easily overcome skyrocketing food costs. These factors placed Switzerland in position to fund half of Europe’s efforts to recover, whose loans in turn amounted to hundreds of billions of Francs in a few short years.
The period of rapid loan issuance following The Great Famine of 1920 raised some concerns among the Swiss populace, especially those of liberal and socialist background. With so many nations owing such high quantities to the same lender, the possibility that some may never pay it back greatly worried those already distrusting of the massive financial institutions of Switzerland. One of the more vocal dissenters was Socialist Robert Grimm, an ardent opponent of the bourgeoisie. Grimm was also deeply suspicious of a potential French or Imperial invasion, and holding such high debts over them seemed to him as just an excuse for them to threaten the nation with war.
Grimm’s Gambit
In 1933, Robert Grimm, along with other high profile statesmen and diplomats, orchestrated a political move with the goal of deterring any possibility of an invasion. Many members of the new Abschreckung(Deterrence) Group had prior dealings with various individuals within the World Organization for the Defense of Economics in Northern Europe (colloquially known as the Nordic Union). The Union worked together on many joint-economic endeavors, but more importantly had a shared interest in the safety of its member states, especially as many of them were often considered the weakest nations in Europe individually. The end goal of Grimm was to exploit the defensive treaties of the Union to help deter both neighboring powers from potential conflict.
In the initial negotiations behind closed doors, representatives of the Abschreckung Group offered numerous low interest loans on the continued recovery efforts, though as talks were carried out infrequently, the necessity of such loans diminished. The group had to work slowly in order to not alert the press of their dealings. The project had also not fully swayed representatives from most nations in the Nordic Union, as the representatives from Norway, Iceland, and Sweden saw little value in admitting Switzerland. More hawkish members of the negotiators saw the induction of the Confederation as a useful tool in future conflict, bankrolling military spending against Russia, and possibly directly aiding in a ground assault on The Holy Roman Empire. The two great powers had historically spurred the creation of the original defense treaties between the founding members, and often clashed with the Nordic Union on numerous issues. Two of the Union’s newer members, Finland and Estonia, still had grudges from their days in The Russian Empire, and sought any support for the war they saw as an inevitability. When the time came to declare the effort publicly, the Abschreckung Group offered to help fund the initiation of the Nordic Union’s own joint jump gate program. In exchange, the Union would move to induct Switzerland into its economic treaties, but not force them to participate in any of its standing army or joint military edicts in order to keep Switzerland a “passive participant”. The agreement was only a facade however, as many Nordic diplomats were already making arrangements for under the table military grants.
As negotiations became more open, Grimm’s colleagues had to worry more about public perception back in the cantons, as the maneuver was immediately called out as a betrayal of traditional Swiss values. Even without active military participation, joining the Nordic Union was thought to be a slippery slope into more involvement, even if it was honored now. The loudest voices in opposition came from rural cantons, especially those on the eastern slopes of the Alps, who had the strongest connection to The Holy Roman Empire. While the biggest concern was always the French, joining an organization that was largely considered anti-Imperial seemed like a move in the opposite direction. The move was strongly supported by urban populations however, with both industrial labor and bourgeoisie bankers largely approving. Debates carried on for a couple of years after the initial deals were worked out, as a vote needed to be carried out both in the Nordic Union and Switzerland. Deadlock was first broken at the Council of Copenhagen, with only Iceland still opposing Switzerland joining in the fall of 1937.
After the approval of the Union, a hasty referendum was called in the Confederation on whether the nation was to join. In the years since going public, the Abschreckung Group had grown popular in government, with Grimm serving as Council President from 1936-1937, however their efforts were still considered highly controversial. In the lead-up to the vote, the group continued to approach the issue publicly with the economic benefits at the fore. In the background however, they simultaneously funded a campaign of war paranoia in the press, pushing that the Swiss people must always plan for the worst. The voting took place in the month of April, 1938, in which the recent death of Léon Blum weighed heavily on everyone’s mind. The uncertainty in French politics compounded with existing paranoia, giving the pro-join camp a last minute push. With 56.2% of the popular vote, the referendum to join the Nordic Union passed. The integration of the Swiss Confederation would take place over the next several months, with Robert Grimm now serving as one of the nation’s first representatives at the Union.
While the ramifications of this deal are yet to be seen, the unpopularity of the referendum in rural Switzerland has started worrying trends of dissidence. Canton officials from St. Gallen and Grisons have both voiced frustration with federal overreach, and have already stated clearly that if a war breaks out against the H.R.E. they will not assist in any way. Secessionist movements have also grown in popularity since the start of Union talks, and it is likely they will continue to gather strength with the referendum passing. Only time will tell if Grimm’s paranoia around conflict will actually act as a deterrent, or if his actions have only brought further conflict to the Swiss people.
Comments