Goldau and Elm were unavoidable disasters, people said at the time. A God-fearing public mistrusted the fact-based approach to preventing further tragedies. Spirit of solidarity But what the major landslides of the 19th century did bring about was a feeling of national solidarity. After the Goldau disaster, there was a countrywide fundraising push – the first of its kind – to help the village get back on its feet. This and other similar humanitarian campaigns uniting the different regions of the country were subsequently “touted as being very Swiss”, according to Christian Pfister, professor emeritus in environmental history at the University of Bern. They helped Switzerland develop its own particular identity and point of difference from other nations, he writes. In neighbouring countries, the catalyst for uniting people was war. This spirit of solidarity has persisted up to the present day. Following each of the three major Swiss landslides of the 20th and 21st centuries – Randa in 1991, Gondo in 2000, and Bondo (where residents were evacuated in time) in 2017 – the relevant member of the Federal Council visited the disaster area in person. The message? That the entire country stood shoulder to shoulder with those affected. But there was also a subtext: we will do everything in our power to defy the mountains. When landslides occur or threaten to occur, Switzerland will not simply give up the fight – not even if global warming makes things more complicated. Dodging the rockfalls Since Goldau in 1806, giving up on landslide-endangered or landslide-affected settlements has never been an option. It has always been about protecting these hotspots more effectively. “Take Brienz-Brinzauls, where they pulled off a quite stunning feat,” says Flavio Anselmetti. In a complex geological environment, they managed to predict the danger correctly and evacuate the village “at just the right time before the event actually occurred”. You cannot really do a better job than that. But it is not always Residents of Bondo (canton of Grisons) watch as a mudslide rips through their village on 25 August 2017. The event was triggered by a massive rockfall that had taken place two days previously on Piz Cengalo. Photo: Keystone A 40-million-cubic- metre avalanche of rock came hurtling down the mountain towards Goldau on 2 September 1806, killing almost 500 people and leaving a trail of devastation. Illustration: Franz Xaver Triner (1767–1824) and Gabriel Lory (1763–1840); Schwyz cantonal archives Goldau and Elm were unavoidable disasters, people said at the time. A God-fearing public mistrusted the fact-based approach to preventing further tragedies. such plain sailing. Professional mountaineer Roger Schäli knows what it feels like to have rocks falling around him. He has scaled the north face of the Eiger well over 50 times, often via the original route that traverses the infamous “White Spider” – a snowfield that now melts completely in summer. “Rising temperatures have taken an unbelievable toll on the Eiger,” he says. “A lot more melted ice runs down the north face. Rockfalls are more serious and more frequent. You are protected to a certain extent during the steepest parts of the ascent, because the rocks simply fly over your head.” Nowadays, the classic route up the north face is only really possible in winter when the weather is freezing. The problems that a professional like Schäli has encountered can also be an issue for amateurs and tourists. The Swiss Alpine Club (SAC) manages 153 mountain huts in Switzerland, many of which are potentially at risk from global warming. In 2021, for the first time ever, the SAC closed a hut, the Mutthornhütte on the Kanderfirn glacier, due to an acute risk of rockfall. It intends to rebuild the hut in a safe location. The new structure will cost 3.5 million francs. Defying the mountains can be a costly business. Swiss Review / October 2023 / No.5 7
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