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The prince wants the right to fire the government. And if voters in tiny Liechtenstein say no today, the monarch says he'll move to Austria.
©Associated Press
March 16, 2003
VADUZ, Liechtenstein -- The air is clean, the Alpine vistas stunning. The people are rich, jobs are plentiful, the country has no enemies and crime is so rare that there wasn't a jail until 10 years ago.
So what is Liechtenstein's problem? What has gotten people so steamed up that they're resorting to hate mail? Why would anyone leave a pig's snout and a disemboweled cat at their enemies' doors? And why is Liechtenstein's ruling prince threatening to emigrate if he doesn't get his way?
The answer is that at a time when monarchies all over Europe have been reduced to figurehead status, Prince Hans-Adam II wants more power -- the right to fire governments and appoint interim ones.
A referendum today will settle the question -- probably in the prince's favor. But many people fear that whatever the outcome, their Washington, D.C.-sized country wedged between Austria and Switzerland will never be the same.
The prince is sure the voters will support him, he said. "But in the event of a 'no' vote, then our move would be a matter of weeks or months rather than years."
The prince's supporters maintain his departure would drive away foreign investors and herald economic disaster. But critics like former Prime Minister Mario Frick say if he wins, it will be because of his "blackmailing threat to leave the country."
"Only a few will do so out of their hearts," says Frick, 38, who helped set up the so-called Democracy Secretariat to support a rival proposal.
It was this mild-mannered lawyer who recently found a decomposed pig's snout and tail at his office door. The dead cat was sent to a different critic.
The culprits are unknown, and no one is suggesting the royal family is involved. But as the climate has grown ugly, 58-year-old Hans-Adam has done little to calm things down. Instead he has come out fighting, implicitly likening his opponents to World War II traitors and threatening to leave his 13th-century castle and move with his family to Austria if the referendum goes against him.
Spared the rigors of world war, and steeped in a secretiveness that seems appropriate for a place that got rich as a tax haven, many in this country of 33,000 people are reluctant to answer strangers' questions. They tend to glance up nervously at the castle high over Vaduz, the capital, and the ubiquitous red-and-blue "Yes to the Royal Family" posters exhorting Liechtensteiners to back the prince.
Liechtenstein has good reason to feel indebted to the royal family that has ruled it for 284 years.
Prince Franz-Josef, the current prince's father, is credited with keeping Liechtenstein out of the Nazis' clutches. The country was so poor after World War II that he sold some of the family jewels to help bail it out. His billionaire son is quick to point out that he pays his expenses rather than charge the taxpayer.
Under Franz-Josef's benevolent guidance, Liechtenstein, like other constitutionally quirky corners of Europe such as Monaco and the Isle of Man, became a low-tax, no-questions-asked banking center. Hans-Adam, who took over in 1989, led Liechtenstein into a loose economic treaty with Europe that brought banks and trust companies pouring in.
Today, more companies are registered in Liechtenstein than there are citizens, and its per capita income is as high as Switzerland's.
Although Vaduz is affectionately known as Staedtle, or little town, it has undergone a building boom and opulent villas line the hillsides. It boasts classy galleries and a sleek, black and ultramodern art museum containing some of the prince's priceless Old Masters.
The prison mostly holds white-collar criminals whose meals are delivered by a hotel known for gourmet cuisine.
Although the prince has retained his father's tradition of inviting the population to the castle for drinks and snacks on Liechtenstein's national day, "He is more feared than respected and more respected than loved," says Frick, who as prime minister from 1993 to 2001 repeatedly clashed with Hans-Adam over the constitutional issue.
The 1921 constitution gives the monarch the final say on laws, and the right to call early elections. At the same time, anyone can force a referendum on a law by gathering 1,500 signatures.
Hans-Adam says he wants to iron out ambiguities in the constitution by making it stipulate that he can sack an ineffective government and appoint an interim one pending elections. He also wants the deciding vote in appointing judges, saying the process shouldn't be controlled by bickering political parties.
"The worst thing about his proposals is the whole question of power. In the future, the prince could snap his fingers and say, 'I've lost confidence in you,' and in a split second the government would vanish," Frick said.
Nonsense, counters the prince, arguing Liechtenstein's people have more democratic powers than any other country, and that under his plans, 1,500 signatures on a petition would be enough to force a referendum on abolishing his job.
Even in the unlikely event that Hans-Adam loses the vote and emigrates, he is expected to remain monarch on a symbolic basis or perhaps step aside in favor of Alois, his 36-year-old son.
"Like many Liechtensteiners," he said, "I am convinced that if the prince and his family were to move abroad, this would be a disadvantage for the country and its people. . . . But if the monarchy loses public confidence, then its up to the people to find a solution without the monarchy."