Elephants & Squirrels

In my generation, we learned at school that Switzerland had no colonies and was therefore not part of the colonialist system. However, due to my Brazilian family history—my grandmother was born in Brazil—I had certain doubts about this statement even as a child.

What role did neutral Switzerland play in colonialism, and how long can it hide behind the narrative that it merely had trade relations? Bernhard C. Schär's book Tropenliebe, which traces Basel's colonial past through the story of the two explorers Paul and Fritz Sarasin, captivated me. Schär turns the camera around and reconstructs the entire context in which images were created and journeys took place at that time. In this way, he makes gaps in the historical documentation visible. The Sarasins determined exactly what we find about them in the archives. Important parts of their estates have been “discarded due to illegibility,” as the Basel State Archive puts it. In love poems and aphorisms, they provide vague insights into their thinking. Paul Sarasin writes: “Innocent is the one who is completely convinced that he is acting innocently.” Even back then, the question of morality was a central theme for the cousins.

I began to think about a film based on the book Tropenliebe. But how can history be told at all, given such a heavily curated legacy and contemporary original sources such as popular travel literature that are strongly distorted by colonialist views? When I told Bernhard Schär about my interest, he said, “If you want to make a film on this subject, you’d better meet Deneth Piumakshi Veda Arachchige.”

That's how I met Deneth, an artist from Sri Lanka, in 2020. She told me about her research in the  museums of Basel, about the discovery of ancestral remains from Sri Lanka, and about her deeply personal shock when a museum employee handed her the remains of a person from her homeland. She also showed me a video message from Uru Warige Wannila Athatho, the chieftain of the indigenous Wanniyala-Aetto. In it, he asks Deneth to help him bring the ancestral remains and cultural artifacts from Basel back to their homeland. We quickly agreed to develop a project together—with the goal of not letting this story disappear into the archives again.

At first, a trip to Sri Lanka was hardly conceivable for me. I decided to use my connections in Basel to open doors here at home. But when I heard the former president of Basel-Stadt Beat Jans say at a press conference that the museum objects officially belong to the people of Basel, it became clear to me: as a Basel resident, I bear joint responsibility for dealing with these collections from a colonial context – after all, what was once private property has become university property and public property. In addition, the Swiss Federal Council called on the cantons at that time to come to terms with their colonial past.

Through Deneth, I could arrange a WhatsApp call with Dambane Wimalaratne, who was working at the indigenous museum in Dambana at the time. When I expressed my concerns about whether I should film in Sri Lanka at all, he responded with an invitation: «You absolutely have to see for yourself—not only the historical aspects of it, but also everyday life and the current challenges in my village.» This conversation was the initial impetus for my decision to travel to Sri Lanka. I realised that it was an opportunity to work together on making the connections between Switzerland and Sri Lanka visible – and in doing so, to explore Bénédicte Savoy's thesis that the absence of cultural assets makes it difficult at the place of their origin to establish a relationship with one's own history. Further, to show causality between Switzerland and Sri Lanka.

For me, it was clear from the outset that the film should rather ask questions than provide answers. When does a story begin, and when does it end? What does historical responsibility mean? While working on the film, I was inspired by M.C. Escher’s art, with its endless forms and movements, which show the importance of perspective and viewpoint in the search for truth.

We never had a clear plan. The film was made scene by scene, much of it in a dialogical process. Context and dialogue were central and more important than ready-made explanations. It quickly became clear that colonial history can never be told exclusively with European archive material. And that it was precisely in Sri Lanka that we were getting important answers to a long-overdue discourse. The film is an attempt to work together openly on narratives—to reveal gaps and, if possible, to also fill them.

Gregor Brändli, October 2025