At what point does someone belong in Switzerland?

The initiative to cap the Swiss population at 10 million is not just about how much growth a country can absorb – it also raises the question of who gets to count as being fully part, argues Katherine Hermans.

As Switzerland debates the Swiss People’s Party’s “No to 10 million” immigration initiative, much of the discussion is framed in rational terms: housing, infrastructure, transport, pressure on public services, the need for skilled workers. But immigration is never just about numbers. It is also a matter of felt experience; how people respond to change, to newcomers, and to the question of who belongs. A passport may settle the legal question. It does not always settle the emotional one.

I have lived in Switzerland for almost two decades. I have always worked here. I have two Swiss children who attend the local school. I recycle. I vote. I volunteer one day a week with local organisations and do the small favours which make up ordinary neighbourly life: stack chairs after a school event, bring cake to new neighbours, feed their cat when they are out. I understand Swiss German, and when I answer back in German, I sometimes dare to scatter in some words of dialect – a gell or an öppis – hoping not to overdo it.

None of this is remarkable. But I had assumed that this is, more or less, how one becomes part of a place.

Swiss, but only on paper

Well – not long ago, I was talking with neighbours about the local elections. It was exactly the kind of conversation that shows why Switzerland works so well: an informed, civic, practical, and local discussion. After listening for a while, I added my own two cents. The reply was quick: “never mind that, you’re just a Papierli-Schweizer.”

Everyone laughed. So I laughed too. It was not meant in a mean way. A Papierli-Schweizer: Swiss, but only on paper. It was tossed into the conversation as if it were obvious, harmless. But it was a reminder of who I am.

It is a strange thing to build a life somewhere for nearly 20 years and still discover that, in the eyes of some, your membership remains slightly provisional. You can fulfil the requirements and receive the passport, work and pay taxes and still be reminded that there is, apparently, another category of Swissness somewhere beyond the official finish line.

Of course, Switzerland is not unique in this. Most countries like to think citizenship settles the matter, when in reality the goalposts keep moving. The Netherlands, where I am from, has a word for the “not quite fully Dutch” – even when they were born and raised there. They call them allochtonen. And of course immigrants in many other countries have heard the question countless times: “where are you really from?”

Social recognition lags behind

So perhaps the deeper question is not whether someone has the right papers. It is why so many societies continue to invent ways of distinguishing between those who belong and those who don’t. Why the passport, which is supposed to settle membership, so often turns out to settle only jurisdiction. Why formal recognition is extended while social recognition remains hesitant.

That is the thing about exclusion: it does not always arrive as a slammed door. Sometimes it is more subtle, like a joke. That may also be why it is hard to talk about it without sounding oversensitive. There is a lot to be grateful for in Switzerland, and believe me – I am grateful. Switzerland has given me work, mountains, Jass, and the chance to raise a family in a country that is rightly proud of how well it functions. And yet being a foreigner in Switzerland often means living with two truths at once. You can feel at home here, but the feeling may not be entirely mutual. 

An open question

That is why the phrase stayed with me. Not because it was especially insulting; if anything, it was clarifying. It reminded me that there is no agreed finish line for integration. No exam after which everyone nods and says: yes, now you are entirely, unambiguously one of us. There will always be some people who reserve the last stamp of authenticity for themselves. 

Switzerland has every right to debate growth, infrastructure and the future shape of the country. But a democracy can let people in, give them passports, invite them to participate, and still hesitate to accept them fully. My point is not that Switzerland is uniquely hostile. It is that formal citizenship is not always the same thing as social recognition.

And if that remains true, then the country’s real challenge is not only managing numbers. It is deciding whether belonging is something people can genuinely grow into, or something they will only ever possess on paper.

The views expressed by the author do not necessarily reflect those of Swissinfo.