THE DAY THE SWISS LEFT

In 2026, I will have lived in Japan for 30 years.

Thirty years. Long enough to forget that Sundays once meant closed shops, but still short enough to be asked, every now and then, when 'I’m going back home.'

What I only realised recently is that this urge to leave Switzerland – to look over the mountains and think maybe somewhere else would be nice – is not a modern phenomenon at all.

It’s about 2,000 years old.

What I’m referring to is one of the earliest mass emigrations in Swiss history: the moment when the Helvetii – the people who later gave Switzerland its Latin name – collectively decided they’d had enough and wanted to move to the Atlantic coast of what is now France.

As a Swiss living abroad myself, I find this deeply comforting.

Apparently, I’m not being un-Swiss. I’m just continuing a long and noble tradition.

Enter Julius Cesar. Everyone knows him. Salad. Month. Emperor. General.

What’s less well known is that his career is closely connected to what is now Switzerland – or rather, to a very large group of Swiss deciding they wanted out.

In 58 BC, the Helvetii were living on the Swiss Plateau and feeling increasingly squeezed by Germanic tribes to the north. Space was tight. Pressure was mounting. The neighbours were getting loud.

Their solution was refreshingly decisive.

They burned down their villages, destroyed their crops, packed up everything they owned, and headed west.

No trial period. No Airbnb. Just: Right. We're off.

According to Caesar – who, conveniently, is also our main source – about 368,000 people set off. Men, women, children, livestock.

The ultimate group relocation.

It was bold. It was dramatic. It was… not a success.

Caesar used this migration as a pretext to intervene, defeated the Helvetii at the Battle of Bibracte (in today's Burgundy), and forced the survivors to march back home under Roman supervision.

So, the first recorded attempt at Swiss emigration ended with: 'Nice idea. Now please return to where you came from.'

History can be cruel.

There’s another fact that quietly undermines comforting Swiss narrative.

For a long time, the Helvetii were presented as the ancestors of the Swiss. Solid. Rooted. Permanently attached to their land.

Recent research suggests otherwise.

They probably came from what is now Bavaria around 100–80 BC. A few decades later, feeling cramped and threatened, they tried to move again.

In other words, my supposed ancestors were migrants who didn’t stay put for very long – and who developed itchy feet long before budget airlines existed.

It’s a useful reminder that populations in Europe have never been fixed. Migration didn’t start yesterday. Or last century. Or even in Roman times.

It’s always been there.

As a Swiss who did manage to leave – thankfully without being chased back by Roman legions – this story resonates more than I expected.

The desire to go somewhere else. To imagine a better life. To pack up and move on.

It turns out that’s not a betrayal of Swiss identity at all.

It’s about as Swiss as it gets.

The Helvetii tried. They failed. But at least they tried.

And if nothing else, their story proves that the Swiss urge to live abroad is not a modern phenomenon.

We’ve just upgraded from marching across the landscape to boarding long-haul flights – and, thankfully, we no longer have to burn down our villages before leaving.

It also occurred to me that if the Helvetii had succeeded, Switzerland would now have Atlantic beaches. An interesting thought.