Jun 9, 4:03 PM

Basel's Democratic Deficit: When Voters Become the Minority

The city-canton is the first in Switzerland where most residents have no political voice. This raises uncomfortable questions about the legitimacy of a system where the majority is excluded from decision-making.

Basel's Democratic Deficit: When Voters Become the Minority

One might call it a statistical curiosity, if the implications weren't so serious. In the canton of Basel-Stadt, a majority decision is no longer actually made by a majority of the population. Of the 211,000 people who call the canton home, a slim majority of 50.3 percent are barred from the ballot box. They are either too young, lack a Swiss passport, are under a guardianship, or are registered as temporary residents.

This isn't merely a function of a high foreign population, which stands at 39 percent. The canton of Geneva has an even larger share of foreign residents at 42 percent, yet maintains a voting-eligible majority. The difference lies in a technicality: Geneva allows its 35,000 citizens living abroad to participate in cantonal votes, a privilege Basel-Stadt does not extend, tipping the scales.

The situation is the predictable outcome of an economic model that has successfully attracted international talent for its world-leading pharmaceutical companies for decades. While the economy flourished, the democratic base has steadily eroded. The high point of political participation was 37 years ago, when lowering the voting age from 20 to 18 briefly allowed two-thirds of the population to vote. That era is now a distant memory.

According to political scientist Eva Gschwind, this development corrodes the legitimacy of democratic outcomes. She argues that as more people are excluded, the government and parliament lose their orientation and are essentially 'flying blind', unable to gauge the actual desires of the population they govern. This isn't just Basel's problem; it is a preview of a trend affecting all of Switzerland, where population growth is driven entirely by immigration.

Various remedies are being debated, ranging from the timid to the elaborate. Lowering the cantonal voting age to 16, a measure only adopted by Glarus so far, would add a mere 3,000 people to the electorate. A recent proposal in this direction follows a rejection in 2009, and a similar idea was defeated in the municipality of Riehen in 2024. Granting foreigners the vote at the cantonal level, as practiced in Jura and Neuchâtel, remains a political taboo in most of German-speaking Switzerland, with voters in Basel and other cantons having rejected it.

More creative solutions are also being floated. Activists have proposed a 'Population Council', a new body composed of randomly selected residents, including minors and foreigners. This council would deliberate on complex issues and offer recommendations to the formal political institutions. Whether this is a meaningful step towards participation or simply a consultative talking shop with no real power remains an open question. Meanwhile, the canton has taken the more pragmatic step of lowering naturalization fees, hoping to encourage more residents to take the final step towards full political integration.

Before one laments the decline of a golden age, it is useful to remember that Swiss democracy has always been a work in progress. As Gschwind points out, prior to the introduction of women's suffrage, a minority of men always decided for the entire population. The current situation in Basel simply presents an old problem in a new guise. The fundamental question is whether the Swiss model of citizenship is still fit for purpose, or if the country is content with an ever-widening gap between the people and the voters.

Written by Thomas Nussbaumer thomas.nussbaumer@alpineweekly.com