The Cult of the Original: Why Cantons Fight Over Three Centimeters of Stone

Do high-ranking politicians really need to gather for a tiny piece of black stone brought back in a plastic box? In Switzerland, local pride and historical ownership often turn into protracted statecraft. The return of the Venus of Schweizersbild to Schaffhausen after more than six decades in Basel reveals how much value society places on physical possession.

For over sixty years, the Museum zu Allerheiligen in Schaffhausen had to make do with a replica while the original three-centimeter figurine resided in Basel. Carved roughly 14,000 years ago from jet—a form of fossilized wood—the tiny artifact ranks among the oldest representations of the human form found in the country. Its official transfer back home involved Basel Government President Conradin Cramer and Schaffhausen Government President Cornelia Stamm Hurter, demonstrating that even modest ancient remnants can command executive attention.

Why does a small original command such devotion when flawless copies are easily produced? Historian Valentin Groebner from the University of Lucerne points out that museums essentially operate as modern temples, curated around scarcity. While mass reproduction generates abundance, the museum’s primary function is to manage scarcity as authenticity. A replica may visually match the original down to the millimeter, but it lacks the tactile history of creation and passage through time.

The dynamics of regional artifact hoarding are hardly new to the Swiss landscape. A similar dispute over historical holdings unfolded with the St. Gallen globe, which remained in Zurich while St. Gallen received a commissioned replica in August 2009. Discussions over medieval manuscripts from the St. Gallen monastery followed a similar pattern; even when the contents of historical texts were fully transcribed and known to scholars, regional identity remained tied to physical possession of the actual parchment.

As high-resolution digital imaging and 3D printing become ubiquitous, one might expect physical objects to lose their pull. Yet as Groebner notes, widespread duplication has the opposite effect. The proliferation of copies does not dilute the standing of the genuine article; instead, it reinforces its exceptional status. Just as crowds gather around the Mona Lisa despite millions of reproductions, the return of Schaffhausen's singular artifact shows that in a world of endless replicas, the original remains the ultimate luxury.

Written by Sandy van Dongen sandy.vandongen@alpineweekly.com