Swiss ambassador Martin Aeschbacher during his recent road trip. In the background is the beautiful Mount Ararat, located in eastern Turkey, on the borders of Iran, Armenia and Nakchivan. Right: Aeschbacher with Speaker of the Advisory Council Mohamed bin Mubarak al-Khulaifi and President of the Swiss Council of States (Senate) Filippo Lombardi at the opening of the Swiss Embassy in Doha.
By Anand Holla
The walls are bare or soon they will be. All bags are packed. All rooms near empty. A bunch of farewells have been spoken or soon they will be. By the house door sits a Steinway piano wrapped in a corrugated box, as if to silently voice a goodbye song.
Untroubled by the somewhat heavy quietness permeating the air, the outgoing ambassador of Switzerland in Qatar, Martin Aeschbacher, sits in the living room, smiling. A seasoned diplomat with the self-assurance of an aristocrat, Aescbacher has lived this bittersweet scenario way too many times to be emotionally overwhelmed.
“Usually, I don’t feel sad when I am leaving because I have done it so many times. You become a little numb. But not completely,” he says, “Usually, it hits me one day, two or three months later, when I realise that I am no more there. I feel depressed because all of a sudden, I miss something.”
Following his departure from Doha this weekend, the outgoing ambassador is all set for retirement, save for a short, last stint in Morocco. “Of course, I feel bad about leaving behind friends, people I knew, and the places I loved going to. But I don’t feel too sad for leaving this weather here, I must say,” Aeschbacher says and laughs.
For the next one hour, the Bern-born veteran sinks into a conversation that traverses everything from demystifying the intricate layers of a diplomat’s life to his recent epic, cross-country road trip spanning 10,000km. Here’s Aeschbacher unplugged:
I was 20 years old when I went to Ethiopia. I had finished High School and I just wanted to go somewhere else. You have these great mountains in Ethiopia, like the Ras Dashen that is around 4,500m tall. I knew a Swiss zoologist, who was studying the patterns of the endangered Walia Ibex – an animal endemic to the mountains of Northern Ethiopia – and went there to assist him in his work. From there, I travelled to Kenya and Sudan as well.
I was interested in languages and studying something completely new. A new language truly opens us to a new world. In Ethiopia, I had learnt some Amharic. However, since studying Amharic was a little too specialised, I considered studying Chinese or Arabic. Arabic seemed like the best choice because there are so many Arab countries in the world. Also, it’s less far than China.
These were the happy days in the ’70s where you don’t study something to become something but simply because you didn’t know any better. I returned to Switzerland to study Arabic literature and Islamic Science. It was kind of a carefree adventure – and I never regretted it.
After three years of university, I decided that I wanted some reality instead of pure theory. I went to Syria for a year to sharpen my Arabic. I liked it there so much that I stayed another year, before returning home to finish my studies.
For a year, I worked with the International Committee of the Red Cross in Palestine. In those days, I hadn’t thought of becoming a diplomat. I mulled over the two available options – university and diplomacy. I chose to pursue the latter because first off, I like languages, and secondly, I liked Syria and wanted to discover an old world, which somehow goes with diplomacy. Besides, since I had already married by then and had become a father, I figured that the only job where one can regularly go to new places, even after having a family, is diplomacy.
So, 30 years back, I started my career as a diplomat; my first posting was at Moscow. After serving in Geneva and the Swiss Headquarters, I was sent back to Moscow. Even then, it was still the Soviet Union and it was still Mikhail Gorbachev, the leader of the Soviet Union, at the helm. Those were interesting times.
Then I was sent to Cairo, which was my dream. But whenever I go to a place which is my dream, first, I am disappointed. However, soon enough, I liked Cairo very much. After returning to the Headquarters back home, this time at the Middle East desk, I was posted at Prague in Czech Republic – perhaps the most pleasant stint of all – and then to Paris as a cultural counsellor for two years before being sent back to the Middle East.
For three years, I was posted in Iraq after the war. After heading to Tripoli from there, I returned to Syria, this time as the Swiss ambassador. I was there until the revolution. In August 2011, I was called back to the Swiss HQ, and it was in February 2012, that I moved to Qatar as ambassador and opened the Embassy of Switzerland in Qatar.
To open an embassy is very tiring but quite fun. It isn’t easy to find the building, the staff, and logistics. It’s tough because you are caught between two administrations – your host country and your own country. Starting the embassy is also an opportunity because I was helming it all alone and I got to learn about the country I would be working in.
Qatar is a very special phenomenon in how one can witness it developing so quickly and from scratch. Qatar Vision 2030, the ambition and the means; it all comes together. Many countries harbour ambitions but don’t have the means. Others have the means but lack ambition or vision.
I used to think multi-cultural societies are boring. But in Qatar, I met very interesting people. It’s a great posting in relation to the whole region. You meet Syrians, Egyptians, Lebanese, Palestinians, everybody, and also a lot of people who are passing by Doha while en route elsewhere.
One of my first impressions upon arriving in Qatar was how organised it was. I went to take a walk on the Corniche. From my experience of living in the region, I expected to find myself running between speeding cars, holding on to dear life, so as to be able to cross the street. Then I saw that you wait for the light to turn green and you get to cross.
As an ambassador in Qatar, you are always invited for some event or the other – national days, diplomatic invitations, cultural gatherings, political discussions. Qataris are very easy-going; not too formal. What is unique to the Gulf Arab culture is the Majlis and I love it. You can stay for long or for short. It’s a nice invention to socialise and relax. We must introduce it in Europe (smiles).
Very often, it’s a big advantage to know the language. Of course, the Majlis becomes more interesting when you know Arabic. But then, Arabic isn’t always the same. In Egypt, if somebody speaks classical Arabic, it’s just plain funny. As a student, I would go to watch plays and there was always one guy in them, talking classical. I got the hint. I was very angry because the Egyptians dismissed my Arabic as they found it ridiculous. So I locked myself in for a month, watching Egyptian TV shows. Then I emerged, and talked to them in their dialect. They were impressed. I was accepted.
Looking back, all in all, I feel satisfied. I met my wife Elizabeth in Syria. We have two children Nikola and Catherine, who were always with us until Paris. When I was posted in Baghdad, it was quite brutal – the separation. It was 2003. Catherine was 17, and Nikola 19, and they couldn’t join me. However, my wife came with me to Baghdad – the only wife in the diplomatic circle then to do so.
As much a wonderful opportunity this kind of life presents for children, it’s also difficult on them. The experiences are also rather individual. My daughter, for instance, was suffering more than my son Nikola from the changes. Through adolescence, their difficulties aggravate.
The first thing I learnt when they were small is that you must take along all their belongings, even if it costs more money, and not wait for the containers because their toys or books are most likely to get lost for three months, and they will suffer.
Another reality is that when you leave a place or arrive at a place, you will have all the farewell parties and the welcome parties, at once. Then at the same time, you must also deal with the administrative work and the bureaucracy. You should know to adapt, and especially, you must stay close to your children. I would refuse all invitations for two weeks when my children were small because they needed me around. It’s difficult for people to understand this if they haven’t lived it.
Two months ago, Elizabeth and I went on a road trip from Qatar to Switzerland. I don’t like sitting in planes and flying for six hours because it’s not natural. I want to know where I am. I want to feel the place I am in. So whenever I can, I drive and go on cross-country trips.
The route from Qatar is more difficult. With Syria and Iraq being blocked, we went through Iran, avoiding the big cities, taking time out and stopping over wherever we wished to. I like to travel slowly. We spent eight weeks doing the 10,000km-long trip in our 23-year-old Mercedes.
Such road trips that also double up as great holidays need time. When you work, you rarely can find so much time. That’s one of the reasons why I am looking forward to my retirement.
