Centenary reveals parliament’s naked truth

Switzerland's founding fathers solemnly greet visitors to parliament Keystone

The federal parliament building in Bern hides its age well. It turns 100 on April 1, but looks as fresh as the naked cherubs dancing on its ceiling.

Tour guide Sonja Raemy leads visitors into the lavishly decorated lobby or “Wandelhalle” outside the chamber where members of the House of Representatives debate.

With a smile, she anticipates the response of visitors, when she directs their attention to the playful art on the ceiling.

The figures in the paintings are symbolic, many humorous and most, half-naked.

“That’s the ‘naked truth’ up there. Do you see the mask?” she asks. “She [the figure] is looking at herself in the mirror, and what does she see? The naked truth!”

Half naked cherubs romp about in the other paintings. They represent Switzerland’s virtues and ideals, and important trades and industries.

Switzerland’s Olympus

In one scene, a cherub embodying Swiss tourism is dressed as the god Mercury. He hurries down from Switzerland’s Olympus, in this case the Jungfrau massif, to greet arriving guests. They are cherubs as well, and are struggling up the mountainside carrying luggage and marvelling at the scenery through binoculars.

The Swiss federal parliament has always been open to the public, as in most other western democracies. But this year is special. The building as it is today was inaugurated 100 years ago on April 1.

At that time, the architect, Hans Wilhelm Auer, finished adding an east wing and central dome to the existing building. It more than doubled the size of the structure and added a certain grandeur to the federal parliament and government, which had been lacking until then.

Unusual perspective

More visitors than ever are expected to descend on the federal parliament this year. Many will be attracted by a special summer exhibition that organisers say will give an “unusual perspective” on the building and its architecture.

As part of the centenary celebrations, a special comic book about a crime committed in parliament’s hallowed halls has been made available to the public.

Visitors to the building can contemplate how the comic thieves managed to steal a valuable fresco from under the watchful eyes of Switzerland’s three founding fathers, turned to stone in parliament’s main lobby.

For people interested in the Swiss political system, the best time to visit is during one of the four three-week parliamentary sessions. Spectators can peer down from public galleries on debates in either the Senate or House of Representatives.

Debates ignored

No matter which parliamentarian is speaking, and regardless of the language – German or French – few MPs are listening.

As Jean-Michel Cina, a member of the Christian Democratic Party, explains, most of the serious debate takes place at the committee level, or in the Wandelhalle.

There, they can read the morning paper, reply to emails at computer workstations, or converse with lobbyists and journalists, who come and go as they please.

“The first time I came to the parliament building as an MP was very special,” says Cina. “It was emotional to be in a place where all the important political decisions are made.”

Cina, like a dozen other parliamentarians, interrupts the conversation to rush back into the chamber to vote on a motion, and returns a minute later.

He has been voting on issues concerning unemployment, financial credits for Switzerland’s forthcoming national exhibition and links between the Swiss secret service and South Africa’s former apartheid regime.

As far as the parliament building is concerned, Cina knows little about its history. But, he says, he has a way of brushing up on facts and figures to impress any guests he invites to parliament.

“I have recorded some information about the building on my Psion pocket computer,” he explains. “So when I have a visitor, I take it out and look at my notes five minutes before they arrive. They are very impressed that I know some important dates and figures about the house.”

by Dale Bechtel