by Eliane Perret
“War is back – but we have lost our respect for it”, was the title given by Hans Bachofner (1931–2012), a former divisional commander in the Swiss Army and holder of a doctorate in law, to his 1999 lecture, which dealt with the consequences of the Kosovo War.1 How much misery have the many wars that have followed since then brought to human society! Among the causes are a disregard for international treaties and the UN’s prohibition on the use of force, an arrogant pursuit of power and dominance, and unbridled greed. Whether these wars are waged militarily with ever more devastating weapons or through economic sanctions – wrongly described as “soft warfare” – they always result in thousands of victims and devastated countries. This makes it all the more urgent to reflect, once again, on how we can achieve a more peaceful and equitable coexistence in our world.
Knowledge imparted without ideology
Anyone who works with children and young people knows how easily their curiosity is piqued by the past. How did people live back then? Why do wars happen, and why not in our country? They would like honest answers to these questions. And we owe them those answers. Because no digital media offering, however sophisticated, can replace a face-to-face conversation. This challenges parents; but schools and teachers must also engage thoroughly with this task. It’s well worth the time spent on it! Unfortunately – and this must be stated here in no uncertain terms – today’s teaching materials on Swiss history are (for the most part) characterised by an ideologised approach to history and are therefore of limited use. However, there are also older accounts of past events which provide an insight into historical developments and convey knowledge that is deeply rooted in both the intellect and the emotions, as well as moving impressions. Among these is the Bourbaki Panorama in Lucerne.
A panoramic image – immediate and touching
A journey through time: It is early in the morning in early February 1871. In the Vaud and Neuchâtel Jura, between the Vallée de Joux, Vallorbe, Sainte-Croix and Les Verrières, more than 87,000 French soldiers and officers, accompanied by carts and animals, cross the Swiss border. The thermometer has been reading minus 22 degrees Celsius for days. The German-French War of 1870–1871 is drawing to a close. It brought devastation and physical and mental suffering, as every war does. Among those caught up in this procession of misery are Red Cross volunteers, civilian refugees and a number of German prisoners of war. Napoleon III, then Emperor of France, had embarked on a war with the German Kingdom under King Wilhelm and his Prime Minister, Otto von Bismarck. It was a war that could not be won against an overwhelmingly powerful Prussian army.
France attempted to turn the tide of the war and mobilised reservists across the country. African reservists were brought in from the French colony of Algeria, whilst grandfathers, fathers and sons from the rural provinces of France were called up. France pinned its hopes on this Eastern Army, commanded by General Bourbaki, which had been formed with a minimum of equipment and training. Soon, the inadequately trained soldiers found themselves surrounded near the Swiss border and cut off from supplies. An escape through Switzerland was the obvious course of action.
There were 22,000 Swiss soldiers stationed at the border, tasked with holding back the beleaguered French troops. After General Hans Herzog had assessed the situation in the Jura border town of Les Verrières, he wanted to secure the border with an additional contingent of soldiers. However, he no longer had time to discuss his plan with the Federal Council.
In the middle of the night on 1 February, a French negotiator asked for an audience with him and, on behalf of General Clinchant, requested permission for the French Eastern Army to cross into Switzerland. It was clear to Herzog that the only option left for the besieged army was to retreat into Switzerland. But how could we avert the danger of our country becoming a theatre of war for French and German troops? With this in mind, he told the negotiator that any entry into our country was conditioned upon the complete and unopposed disarmament of the troops along with a written authorisation from the French general. In this way, Herzog gained a few hours to draw up, together with his staff, a ten-point agreement, which was ready at four o’clock in the morning in three handwritten copies.2 Three conditions were particularly crucial: firstly, the complete disarmament of the French Eastern Army; secondly, the return of these weapons following reimbursement of the costs that Switzerland would incur as a result of the soldiers’ presence; and thirdly, the Federal Council should have the right to determine the details of the provisions of the agreement.
87,000 soldiers in 190 municipalities and 24 cantons
For Switzerland, at that time still a young federal state, an incredibly daunting task lay ahead. The Federal Council had little time to make plans, for from 1 to 3 February an endless column of French soldiers, horses, wagons and cannons poured through Les Verrières. A villager recalls his mother’s stories: “My mother could no longer hold back her tears at the sight of the unimaginable disaster that was this poor, defeated, suffering and disorganised army, which was forced to set foot on Swiss soil in order to reach safety and save its very existence.”3 The more than 87,000 soldiers were distributed amongst 190 municipalities in 24 cantons. The canton of Ticino was the exception, as it was difficult to access due to the snow in the mountains.
In order to ensure everyone’s safety and to make it clear that the fighting had come to an irrevocable end, they were disarmed at the border by Swiss military units. It was only thanks to the authorities’ unbureaucratic approach and the compassion and solidarity of the general public that the soldiers could be interned over the following six weeks. Solothurn, which at the time had a population of 7,000, took in 2,600 soldiers. The Jura communities were particularly hard hit. The border village of Les Verrières alone was assigned 34,000 soldiers. The church and vicarage were turned into military hospitals, and barns and stables into dormitories.
First operation of the Red Cross
The local population provided spontaneous aid, supplying the arrivals with food, clothing, and firewood. Volunteers everywhere helped care for the sick and organised collection drives for shirts, shoes, socks, and other aid supplies. This was desperately needed, as evidenced by the account of a member of the French “Garde Mobile”: “People are going down like flies – some from hunger, others from cold, fatigue, and exhaustion. Everything is gone; there are no clothes, no shoes, and no workable soldiers left.”
Many soldiers were suffering from highly contagious and often fatal infectious diseases – a life-threatening danger for those providing aid. Yet human solidarity prevailed even in difficult times. “Rich and poor alike donated their supplies, day after day, with the same enthusiasm and generosity,” noted the 1871 report by the Neuchâtel Red Cross relief committee. Consequently, the voluntary assistance and private donations far exceeded the amount Switzerland ultimately billed to France.
The refugee train also became the first major operational site for the International Red Cross, which had been founded just a few years earlier, in 1863. As recently as 1862, General Dufour – deeply shaken by Henry Dunant’s report on the Battle of Solferino – had written to him: “People are all too inclined to see only the glorious aspects of war and to close their eyes to its tragic consequences.” A warning to the warmongers of today! A year later, Dunant, Dufour, and three other Genevans founded the ICRC, and in 1864, twelve states signed the first Geneva Red Cross Convention establishing the aid organisation that operates worldwide today. It was first put into practice during the Franco-Prussian War.
The Bourbaki Panorama – a historical painting
We gain insight into these events within the rotunda in Lucerne, built specifically for this purpose. Not every detail aligns precisely with historical facts, yet artistic licence allows for such a leeway. The panorama is a historical painting devoid of heroes – unlike many others of that era; such a depiction would not have suited the Switzerland of that time. A bearded man marches alongside an ambulance wagon that arrived in Les Verrières with the Bourbaki Army; a Red Cross armband is wrapped around his arm. This is how Édouard Castres (1838–1902), the panorama’s creator, immortalised himself in the painting. Hailing from a middle-class family of Genevan watchmakers, he had trained as an enamel painter and later as a portraitist. However, he was also deeply impressed by the humanitarian ideals of Henry Dunant; when the Franco-Prussian War broke out, he and two doctor friends outfitted a horse-drawn wagon – purchased at their own expense – with medical equipment, medicines, and bandages, placing it at the disposal of the ICRC. The three volunteers experienced their first operation on the French battlefields: initially in Normandy, and subsequently with the French Army of the East. In this way, Castres experienced firsthand the true meaning of the misery of war.
These images haunted him, and after the war, without pathos he captured what he had witnessed in sketches and paintings. They caught the eye of Benjamin Henneberg, a real estate developer and contractor from Geneva who wanted to bring the panoramic paintings – which were becoming fashionable at the time – to his hometown. Edouard Castres was thus awarded the contract for this challenging project. He spent five years on preparatory work, partly to familiarise himself with the techniques and craftsmanship required of a panorama painter. In addition, a rotunda had to be built to house the painting, which measured 112 meters in length and 14 meters in height. It was intended to serve as a symbol of the humanitarian tradition that was increasingly becoming part of Switzerland’s national identity during the 19th century.
Castres assembled an eleven-member team of painters to execute the work. Among them was Ferdinand Hodler, who – facing financial hardship at the time – relied on the income this job provided. The Geneva panorama opened its doors on September 24, 1881. The public was thrilled! The panorama remained in Geneva for eight years before moving to Lucerne. However, several obstacles had to be negotiated before it could establish itself there as a tourist attraction. To this day, it requires great dedication: the interest and effort of many conscientious curators and conservators, and also the funding for the restoration work that is repeatedly necessary.
Tragedies for all of humanity
Anyone who takes the time to let the scenes of the panorama sink in and discover the many details will find it hard to leave the rotunda without feeling deeply moved. Is respect for the horrors of war not a natural reaction? Particularly in today’s age of massive war propaganda, it offers a clarifying perspective! It tells hundreds of stories – individual fates and encounters between people from the most diverse backgrounds and cultures. This depiction conveys to us that even today’s wars, in which people are killed and houses and cities are razed to the ground on our screens, far removed from the actual events, cannot be ‘clean’ and ‘just’, as we are led to believe. Sanctions, too, are part of the reality of war: they hit the most vulnerable – children, the needy, the sick and the elderly – and make people despair. They destroy healthcare systems and deny access to essential medicines. They kill slowly and silently! In their impact and consequences, they are terrible tragedies for the whole of humanity.
Knowledge of one’s own history – an important safeguard
For our younger generation, such insights into their own history are vital. Only in this way can they identify with their own country, and only in this way their interest – and, with it, the desire to make a contribution themselves – can grow. They learn to appreciate what previous generations achieved in keeping our country out of the turmoil of war and, instead, ensuring it acted as a guarantor for the mediation and conduct of peace negotiations and good offices. It becomes clear to them why our country is home to international organisations that (should) work towards the equal and peaceful coexistence of all peoples.
Hans Bachofner, more than twenty years ago, identified the factors that shape Switzerland’s unique identity, when he wrote: “Neutrality has proven its great value. It enables us to provide more meaningful help than we could by taking part in a botched war. It protects us from media-driven activism by politicians swayed by their emotions. It is a method, tailored to an uncertain future, for safeguarding our independence and freedom. But it must not be further eroded.”4•
1 Quote from a lecture by Hans Bachofner, given on 13 May 1999 in Bern. In: Current Concerns No. 45, 22 October 2012. https://www.zeit-fragen.ch/index.php?id=1157
2 Fink, Hans Dieter/Ganz, Michael T. Bourbaki Panorama. Zurich 2000: Published by Werd. p. 13. One of the copies is held at the Swiss Federal Archives.
3 ibid., p. 18. The following quotations, which are not specified in detail, are also taken from this exhibition catalogue.
4 Bachofner, Hans, ibid.
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