‘Quiet neutrality’: snapshots of Switzerland’s embrace of oligarchs

Total discretion: the offices of bankers Edmond de Rothschild in Geneva Anastasia Mityukova

During the Biel/Bienne Festival of Photography, which ended on May 25, Swiss-Russian artist Anastasia Mityukova presented her photography project Quiet Neutrality. More than just a series of pictures, it is a critical exploration centred on one specific question: to what extent is Switzerland really 'neutral'? 

How is a budget surplus of CHF1.3 billion ($1.6 billion) possible? This is the question Anastasia Mityukova asked herself on reading a news pieceExternal link about the canton of Geneva. The photographic project Quiet Neutrality was born from this seemingly peripheral fact: a budget surplus in Geneva. 

“I was not well-versed in financial matters,” the photographer says. “They were certainly not my strong point, but I started reading up. Sifting through the news, I came across some 50 articles. I began to extract the names of companies, banks and trust funds linked to Russia and its oligarchs.” 

Anastasia Mityukova

“I had no idea, for instance that Mediterranean Shipping Company (MSC), a shipping line that also transports raw materials, was based in Geneva; or just how many properties had been sold to Russian oligarchs.” It should be noted here that, at the start of the conflict, MSC declared an immediate halt to the transport of containers coming from or heading for RussiaExternal link.   

In short, Mityukova identifies companies, properties and interests linked to Russian oligarchs that are intertwined with the economic fabric of Switzerland. “I did not want to accuse anyone but to show through photography that linkages can be made. Though formally neutral, Switzerland is part of the global system of power and finance.” 

Parallel with ‘quiet luxury’

The title Quiet Neutrality plays with the idea of quiet luxury – the discreet luxury without flashy logos that is nonetheless a sign of power and belonging. Just as invisible luxury is a symbol of the “elite”, Mityukova says, Swiss neutrality can also conceal privilege or complicity: that of a country which, while remaining officially neutral, benefits economically from the existence of conflicts.   

Neutrality, therefore, is in danger of being “quiet” not just in the sense of discreet, but also because it is silently complicit. It is telling that the photographer found very few materials depicting Swiss neutrality. 

What could be more natural than a Zug banker accompanying a client to a scenic spot, as well as providing financial services? Anastasia Mityukova

This leitmotiv of discretion is also reflected in the colours chosen to display the photos: white, red and black. These are not accidental, but bring to mind both the Swiss flag and the palette of Soviet propaganda. In those images from the former Soviet Union, capitalism was represented by men in top hats trampling on the masses. “What if today those capitalists are the very oligarchs who once used to criticise capitalism?” Mityukova questions. 

Soviet poster (from around the 1930s): “The aim of capitalism is always the same: exploitation, oppression, war.” “So that the poverty and ruin of the masses bring the greatest profit.” Reproduction

Photographing the invisible 

At the heart of the project lies the very difficulty of capturing that which is hidden from view. Financial offices, headquarters of multinationals, cultural foundations with opaque donors: places that are anonymous, protected or deliberately discreet. “Talking about finance and power through photography is not easy,” Mityukova admits. “There are no obvious images and access is limited.”  

But the strength of her language emerges from this very challenge: seemingly mundane images – buildings, shop windows, streets, signs – take on a different meaning when accompanied by comments, maps and annotations that reveal unsuspected connections.  

The photographer selected around 60 locations throughout Switzerland. “To start with, I focused on three cities. The first was Zurich, the country’s banking hub: I photographed UBS, and watched all the luxury cars and those without licence plates driving around.” 

Then she went to Zug: “Several oligarchs live there. I photographed Russian mothers waiting for their children outside private schools. The city is almost empty; you see a lot of babysitters. The companies are concentrated along one street, then immediately the countryside begins, right next to the headquarters of the multinational Glencore. It is telling that most of the shops are car dealerships, while many offices stand empty.” 

Rue du Rhône, Geneva. Many Swiss trading companies, trust funds and banks that handle Russian fortunes have their offices and headquarters here. Anastasia Mityukova

The last stop, for the moment, was Geneva. “A place I know well, so I could also note the co-dependence between cultural institutions, such as Geneva’s Grand Théâtre and the Russian oligarchs.” For instance, the relationship until 2022 between Gennady Timchenko, who was then hit by economic sanctions, and the Geneva theatreExternal link is well known.  

The exhibition connects the photographs of these places, interweaving them with text. Mityukova draws attention to one picture in particular: “A black car with Ukrainian number plates is driving past a building with mirrored windows: but the reflection of the car is white.” 

A Ukrainian car drives past the offices of bankers Lombard Odier in Geneva. Anastasia Mityukova

Describing the indescribable  

Typical letter boxes in Zug that are one of the tax optimisation strategies used by some businesses Anastasia Mityukova

For Mityukova, photography does not claim to change the world, but it can help describe it. She cites the German filmmaker and actor Fassbinder, who said: “we must at least try to describe what we cannot change”. Above all, she has a strong belief in the power of the documentary act. “By relating data, images, places and testimonies, we can construct an accessible narrative that can unmask the rhetoric of neutrality and offer critical tools to the public.”  

This approach, which interweaves aesthetics and denunciation, is particularly powerful in a context like Switzerland, where official images and cultural institutions construct an image of a peaceful, orderly and neutral country. 

Many outside observers however, Mityukova suggests, see a different reality: a nation that exploits its stability to play an ambiguous role in global conflicts, that fuels its prosperity with funds of dubious origin, and that builds a “landscape ethic” based on mountains, lakes and reassuring silences. 

Ongoing project 

The project presented in Biel/Bienne is still in its infancy. The collection of photographs, data, linkages and reflections is constantly evolving. Mityukova does not want to rush to conclusions, but to take the time to understand where the project is going. 

“Photography can offer a new starting point: a lens for observing the fault lines of a national identity built on silence.”  

And through the photographic act, Switzerland can finally start looking at itself in the mirror. At least metaphorically. It is no coincidence that Mityukova has placed a looking glass in front of each photo – so the viewers can see the reflection of their own “quiet neutrality”.  

Zurich’s banking district is far more luxurious than Geneva’s, and a far cry from “quiet luxury”. Anastasia Mityukova

Anastasia Mityukova (1992) was born in Tashkent, Uzbekistan and moved to Switzerland with her parents at the age of two. She is the director of the Photobooks Switzerland festivalExternal link (Geneva) and a photo editor for Switzerland’s Le Temps newspaper. She carries out artistic photographic research that combines archiving, narration and investigation. One of her best-known works is Project Iceworm (2019), which tells the story of a US military base in Greenland and was presented at the Beijing International Art Biennale 2022-23. 

Edited by Daniele Mariani and Eduardo Simantob

Adapted from Italian by Julia Bassam/ac