Leibacher had been employed in business, and had several failed marriages to women from the Dominican Republic, of whom one produced a daughter. In 1970 he was convicted of fraud, public obscenity and obscene acts with children, and sentenced to 18 months detention. He served his sentence in a work-training institution.

After leaving detention, Leibacher became unemployed. Doctors diagnosed a personality disorder and alcoholism and he received an invalidity pension. In 1998 he was convicted of threatening a bus driver employed by the Zug transport company.

Leibacher was upset by his treatment, and wrote frequently to the authorities with letters of complaint. The passage of time did not diminish his grievance as Leibacher began to believe he was the target of a government conspiracy led by Robert Bisig, a Cantonal Minister. He sued Bisig but in September 2001 his actions were dismissed by the court.

At 10:30 AM on September 27, 2001 Leibacher entered the Zug Parliament disguised as a police officer and armed with a pistol, a pump-action shotgun, and a rifle. He made his way to the Parliament chamber where he fired more than 90 shots randomly. Politicians and journalists alike were hit, although Robert Bisig escaped unscathed. Finally, Leibacher detonated a small home-made bomb, then shot himself. He left behind a suicide note describing his action as a "Day of rage for the Zug mafia".

Victims

The Zug massacre took place September 27, 2001 in the city of Zug (Canton of Zug, Switzerland) in the canton's parliament. 14 politicians were shot dead by Friedrich Leibacher, who shortly after killed himself. During the antecedent years, Leibacher drew the attention on himself by an intense use of appellates. He felt discriminated and dismissed by constitutional state, that he thought, he was constrained to this crime.

Transporting multiple weapons, including the civil version of a Stgw 90 (assault rifle of Swiss Army), a SIG-Sauer-pistol, a pump-action shotgun and a revolver, using a selfmade police vest, Leibacher was able to enter the building without any problem.

In the hall, where the members of the parliament held a meeting, he shot around. He killed three "Regierungsräte" and eleven "Kantonsräte", hurt numerous politicians as well as a few journalists, some heavily. He fired 91 rounds. Further, he ignited a selfmade bomb. Actually, his main goal was Robert Bisig, who ironically stayed unharmed. Leibacher left a suicide note titled "Tag des Zornes für die Zuger Mafia" ("Days of wrath for the Zug mafia"). Seemingly, he thought, that there was a plot against him.

In that dimension, this assault was the first of its type in Switzerland and one of the Canton of Zug's history's unhappiest days. Whole Switzerland was shocked and in dolor. Worldwide, especially in the European Union and in the German Bundestag, there was a storm of protest about this act and the politicians were in dolor because of the death of their colleagues.

Aftereffects

As an aftereffect, many local parliaments increased their security, if they even already had any security plans, or, if not, installed security measures. Some established a strict access control for visitors and security passports for the politicians.

On the national level, the Sektion Sicherheit Parlamentsgebäude (section for the security of parliament buildings) was established as part of the Bundessicherheitsdienst (national security service), a police unit of 35, which secures the Bundeshaus in Bern. As part of the introduction of a general electronic access control for visitors, access controls with x-ray were additionally installed. Further, different wings of the Bundeshaus were secured with security gates, which have to be opened by the politicians with a badge.

Further, many cantons and communities have compiled files which list the names of people who count as Nörgler, Querulanten and Behördenhasser (nigglers, grumblers, haters of the administration), who have threatened people or who make intense use of appeals and bombard authorities with protest notes and who think they have been treated unfairly after the appeals have been dismissed. Since the Zug massacre such people are watched more closely. Mediation centres were founded in which the so-called Ombudsmänner try to mediate in conflict situations. Police stations became a lot more sensitive to threats, people making threats are temporarily detained and their houses searched - weapons are found quite often. Further, when issuing weapon licenses, the person is "examined" sharper, because Leibacher has been found having a paranoid personality disorder and "brain weakness" ("Gehirnschwäche") in older medical certificates. He was able to legally buy the weapons although he had already threatened people, had been known as a grumbler and has had a report made against him. Despite this, or due to a lack of knowledge, no measures followed to avoid the catastrophe.

Gunman kills 14 in Swiss assembly

BBC News

Thursday, 27 September, 2001

A gunman has gone on the rampage in a regional parliament in central Switzerland, killing at least 14 people before committing suicide.

Gunman kills 14 in Swiss assembly

Thursday, 27 September, 2001

A LONE gunman murdered 14 people with an assault rifle and hand grenades before killing himself at a Swiss regional assembly building yesterday — the worst mass killing in the country’s history.

Authorities said that the man, believed to be in his early thirties and living near Zürich, was a deranged local resident who lodged a petition with the assembly in the town of Zug and had it dismissed. It was not immediately clear what the petition was about, but police were quick to stress he had no links to global terrorism. Olivier Burger, a Zürich police official, said: “He had a grudge against the assembly for his own reasons. He exacted a terrible price for his dissatisfaction.”

Unconfirmed reports in Switzerland last night said the killer was a disgruntled bus driver who had lost his licence and took a bloody revenge when the cantonal assembly refused to give it back. A Swiss TV station and a German radio station reported that the man had his licence withdrawn because he was caught drunk at the wheel.

His abandoned car was discovered outside the assembly building with an assortment of weapons, including a rapid-fire pistol and revolver, in the boot. They also found a letter which read: “The day of wrath for the Zug mafia.”

Authorities said later that the man had been able to get past guards wearing dark clothes on which he had daubed the word “police”.

A police spokesman said: “He came into the chamber with a pistol and a rifle, but we believe mostly used the rifle. We have never experienced anything like this in Switzerland before. The community is in a state of utter shock.”

The slaughter occurred in the assembly building of the canton of Zug in the heart of the country, described as the “Riviera of Switzerland”. It is only 25 minutes from Lucerne and Zürich and administers ten surrounding towns and villages.

Shortly before 10.30am the tranquillity of the legislative chamber was shattered when the man burst into a local session of assembly members.

“All I heard was the duh-duh-duh low thuds of gunfire and I knew something terrible was happening,” said Klara Schumann, a housewife passing by at the time. “I looked inside and saw people running and people staggering around with blood all over them. Blood was running in the hallways, like so much splashed paint. It was ghastly, a nightmare scene.”

She ran when she heard explosions — believed to have been hand grenades or a home-made bomb hurled by the man into the assembly hall. A police spokesman added: “He had been firing randomly with an assault rifle and killed 14 people. Ten more were severely wounded, eight more critically wounded.

“He fired at random — there appeared to be no method to his shooting. He left the room and came back. Survivors said he threw in what appeared to be hand grenades, or perhaps a home-made bomb in a package, we´re not sure.

“The man is dead himself. It appears he killed himself. We know who he is — he comes from near Zürich and had a grievance against the assembly, although what it was we are not quite sure.”

Three members of the local government were among the victims, said Peter Hess, the president of the Swiss national assembly. Mr Hess, who is from Zug, interrupted a regular session of the federal assembly in Berne to announce the death toll.

“The man strode through the whole floor, shooting at people,” a Swiss Telegraphic Agency reporter, Dominik Hertach, told Swiss television. Mr Hertach said people threw themselves to the floor amid loud screams from those who had been injured.

There was then an explosion, he said, and smoke filled the room. The force of the blast ripped doors off and shattered windows.

Viktor Schaech, who runs a tobacco kiosk near the assembly building, said he was chatting to a friend when he heard the sound of shooting.

“It was complete chaos,” he said. “It was absolutely awful. I’m still in shock.”

Fifteen dead after shootings in Zug parliament

Thursday, 27 September, 2001

A man wearing a police vest opened fire during a session of Canton Zug’s regional assembly on Thursday, leaving 15 people dead – including the gunman. Another fifteen people were injured.

Three members of government, and 11 members of parliament, were among the dead. Police identified the gunman as Friedrich Leibacher, 57, of canton Zurich, who, they said, had been involved in a legal conflict with local authorities.

The attacker entered the parliament building at 10.30am on Thursday and opened fire with an assault rifle in the assembly room. Authorities say he then briefly left, came back and threw a hand grenade into the room, where 80 local representatives were gathered for the cantonal parliament’s monthly session.

“The man strode through the whole floor, shooting at people,” said a Swiss Telegraphic Agency reporter Dominik Hertach. People threw themselves to the floor when the shooting began, and there were loud screams from the injured, he said.

The blast of the hand grenade filled the room with smoke, ripped off doors and shattered windows.

“It lasted about three minutes, almost like an execution,” said Hanspeter Hausheer, a member of the assembly and a banker at UBS Warburg.

The assembly room was covered with blood after the shooting and several people lay wounded in the chambers.

Police, ambulances and the fire brigade arrived at the scene shortly after the attack.

The three government members who died were identified as Monika Hutter-Häfliger, health director for canton Zug; construction director Jean-Paul Flachsmann, and the head of the interior department, Peter Bossard.

At least fifteen politicians and journalists suffered injuries. One person is in a critical condition.

Row over transport

At a news conference, police officials said Leibacher's grievances dated back to a row with a bus driver two years ago. He subsequently insulted public transport workers, leading the transport department to file a complaint against him.

Leibacher responded with counter-complaints relating to transport and justice department figures. He filed suits at every level of the Swiss legal system, including the Supreme Court. All his cases were dismissed, and he was recently told of the latest rejection.

"He did this purely out of revenge and fury," said local investigator Kurt Blöchinger.

Robert Bisig, director of the economics department and one of only two officials not harmed, said Leibacher had bombarded them with letters and pamphlets demanding his rights.

All his accusations were dismissed because "they were so far from reality," said Bisig.

Police found a letter left behind by the gunman which spoke of “a day of rage against the Zug mafia.” In it, Leibacher accused authorities of being a "band of criminals," "pirates" and "alcoholics."

They said the assailant used a Swiss-made 5.6mm SIG “Sturmgewehr 90”, an assault rifle used by the Swiss army. He also carried a pistol with several magazines of ammunition.

Police have also seized a car with Swiss licence plates which was found near the parliament building, which contained a number of weapons.

Authorities say it is probable that Leibacher had served in the country's militia army when he was younger.

Expressions of shock

Swiss President Moritz Leuenberger headed to Zug upon news of the attack, and laid down flowers in front of Zug's Parliament building.

"This was not just an attack on people, but it was also an attack on our democratic institutions," said Leuenberger. "We live in a country where even the highest ranking politicians can move about freely."

"This is an hour of shock and incomprehension. But we have to stick together if we want to uphold the values of a free democracy, ."

Peter Hess, speaker of the national House of Representatives and a Zug native, called for a minute’s silence. “I am shocked this happened in Zug,” Hess said. “I cannot remember an attack against parliamentarians in a parliament building in Switzerland ever happening during a session.”

Hess and Leuenberger were among those who attended a religious service in Zug's church on Thursday evening.

Leuenberger has ordered all state flags to fly at half-staff for the next three days. Monday has been declared a national day of mourning.

The attack in Zug is Switzerland’s worst mass killing on record. The last shooting by a gunman occurred in 1992, when Erminio Criscione ran through three southern Swiss villages ringing bells and shot six people as they opened the door.

In May 1991, a businessman killed five members of his family before shooting himself in an alpine valley.

'Forgotten' row may have led to Swiss massacre

By Fiona Fleck - Telegraph.co.uk

September 29, 2001

THE massacre in a Swiss regional government building in which 14 people died and 15 were injured was a carefully planned act of revenge, police said yesterday.

They said the killing of three local government ministers and 11 parliamentarians at Zug, near Zurich, may have been prompted by a dispute the gunman had with the local authorities which started three years ago. This in turn may have been caused by the break-up of his marriage, they added.

Friedrich Leibacher, 57, a retired salesman, was disguised as a policeman - in a fake combat-style uniform with the word "Police" handwritten across the front - when he stormed into the building on the shores of Lake Zug and carried out the worst mass shooting in Switzerland's history.

Officials said Leibacher was in dispute with the Zug local authority after a row with a bus driver in 1998. Investigators said it was so petty that the driver and passengers could not remember what it was about.

But as the argument became more heated, Leibacher pulled a gun on the driver, who reported him to the police.

That was the beginning of a dispute in which the killer filed numerous complaints of injustice at the hands of local officials in the transport and justice departments and which culminated this week in the rejection of those complaints by the Zug high court.

Robert Bisig, one of four surviving local government executives, described the complaints as "far removed from reality" and said: "He wanted money from us, lots of money".

They also disclosed that the killer was convicted in 1970 of incest with minors, public acts of incest, theft, forging documents and traffic offences.

He selected the one day of the month that could wreak maximum carnage - the last Thursday of the month when the Zug authority holds its regular meeting.

Survivors described how he sometimes seemed to single out his victims for execution and sometimes sprayed bullets about him indiscriminately, while they lay on the floor playing dead.

They said the killer paced about the room, looking around to see who was still alive. If someone moved, he would start shooting again.

"He was shouting abuse at the parliament, saying that now their time was up. All the time he was shouting he fired wildly about him," said Rupy Enzler, a local journalist who was in the chamber at the time.

Investigators said the killer was carrying more weapons than previously believed. In addition to a Swiss army standard assault rifle and handgun, he had a pump-action shotgun and a revolver.

Police later found another gun in his car parked in the disabled space outside the parliament building.

They said an explosive device he detonated inside the chamber was probably home-made. It was not clear whether he shot himself or was killed by the blast, which ripped out doors and shattered windows.

Roland Schwyter, the investigating magistrate in charge of the inquiry, said Leibacher first acquired a gun with a licence in 1996 - the revolver he carried but did not use in Thursday's attack.

In 1998 he bought two more guns with licences, a 9mm Sig 210 pistol and a 9mm SigSauer P232 pistol. Although the authorities knew Leibacher was unstable, this did not prevent him from acquiring further guns for his own arsenal of weapons, investigators said.

Swiss mass killer was convicted molester

ZUG, Switzerland -- Switzerland's worst mass murderer was described Friday by authorities a "querulous troublemaker" whose past included a conviction for child molestation and other crimes.

Friedrich Leibacher, a 57-year-old Zurich resident, opened fire with an assault rifle Thursday on a meeting of the state legislature, killing 14 lawmakers and officials, before killing himself with a handgun.

Dressed in a police-like uniform and with a grudge against local officials following a legal dispute, Leibacher entered the state parliament in the wealthy city of Zug, firing bursts of dozens of rounds from his 5.6mm Sturmgewehr 90 with deadly accuracy.

Some deputies were able to escape by diving behind their desks. One said he survived behind the body of a colleague.

It was unclear whether the attack would have any impact on Swiss gun controls, the most relaxed in Western Europe. Officials said they weren't sure where Leibacher had acquired his weapons. The assault rifle was a civilian version of the model issued to soldiers of the militia army to keep in their homes.

Police said Leibacher had been convicted of a string of offenses 30 years ago, including sexual offenses against children, public indecency and falsifying documents. They did not provide details of the convictions.

In 1998, police began to take notice of him again. He threatened a bus driver with a revolver. When authorities filed charges, he made a series of criminal complaints of his own, against the driver and against government officials.

"Friedrich Leibacher was becoming an increasingly querulous troublemaker," police said.

All his cases were dismissed, and he was told of the most recent rejection shortly before he went on the killing spree.

Government officials said Leibacher -- who neighbors described as quiet and "standoffish" -- had bombarded them with letters demanding his rights.

Within hours of his rampage, security had been tightened at government buildings across the country. The federal parliament in Bern announced plans to introduce metal detectors and bag checks.

Now lawmakers fear that Leibacher's act could achieve something that even the terror attacks on the United States failed to do -- create a barrier between politicians and their constituents.

"The extreme act of one individual driven by an incredibly violent anger toward the state should not cut off the government, the state and the political world from the citizens," said Achille Casanova, spokesman for the federal Cabinet.

"Security measures must not be dictated by extreme cases."

In Switzerland, even the president usually travels without protection, the interior minister goes to work by public transport and the public has open access to parliamentary sessions.

"That's one of the fundamentals of national unity," said the Christian Democratic Party in a statement. The shooting should not put in doubt the concept of parliaments being "close to the people."

Authorities declared a week of mourning in the canton of Zug. A memorial service will be held Monday.

Zug (pronounced "Tsoog") is the name of both the canton of 100,000 people and its principle town in the center of this Alpine country.

Murderer with four guns and a grudge

Nobody raised an eyebrow when Friedrich Leibacher pulled into town in his black Hyundai and parked up in the tidy town square, just a few yards from the regional parliament building in the Swiss town of Zug.

It was Thursday morning and the weather was glorious. In the crisp autumn sunshine, locals sipped coffee at pavement cafes and pensioners fed the pigeons in the wide square.

Zug, a pretty lakeside town about 40 miles from Zurich, is the kind of place loved by British and American tourists. For visitors, its narrow cobbled streets and shops selling luxurious Swiss chocolates are a delight.

It was 10.30am. Nobody noticed as Leibacher, wearing a dark grey jacket with Polizei printed on the back, pulled a can of beer from a bag and drained it in a couple of quick gulps.

Four minutes later he got out of his car, wiped a hand across his mouth and adjusted his coat. Tucked inside was a Sturmgewehr 90 assault rifle, a pump-action shotgun, a SIG Sauer pistol and a revolver.

Walking slowly towards the regional parliament and with a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, Leibacher psyched himself into a frenzy. All the little grievances and perceived slights he had been stewing over for months were coming to a head. He was full of hate.

Bounding up the six stone steps, Leibacher was inside in seconds. There was not a single security guard in sight; authorities later admitted they had got rid of them years ago. There was simply no need for them.

Leibacher had chosen his moment well: the 80-person assembly was in full session, the seven member government of the Zug canton was deliberating over new school laws and a handful of reporters were present to cover the proceedings.

The killing did not begin immediately. After bursting into the chamber toting his weapons, the 57-year-old ranted briefly. He called the assembled politicians 'bastards' and vowed to eradicate what he described as the Zug mafia.

Then he began what he described as his 'day of rage'. Striding across the chamber, he opened fire, peppering the cowering politicians with 120 rounds from his assault rifle. He also managed to get a few shots off with his pump-action shotgun. Bullets ripped into the prone figures and splintered masonry. Desperate screams and the sound of moaning filled the room.

There was method to his madness. Leibacher had specific 'targets' and called for Zug's finance minister Robert Bisig to reveal himself: 'Show yourself Bisig! Where are you coward.' Bisig, however, remained under his desk playing dead next to three of his colleagues who really were dead.

Leibacher then began to fire at anything that moved and anyone who tried to leave. He also singled out the media for a tongue-lashing. 'Bunch of pigs,' he said. 'All you do is write crap.'

As the bullets flew politicians cowered under desks but there was nowhere to hide. Leibacher may have been a madman but he remained calm throughout. Midway through the killing he tossed a homemade bomb into the mayhem which filled the chamber with smoke.

The force of the blast blew open doors and windows and left a bloody scene of carnage in its wake. Satisfied with a job well done, Leibacher then turned a gun on himself.

The tranquil world of Zug was transformed in just four minutes. By 10.38am, 14 innocent people were dead and 15 wounded, one of them seriously. As ambulances began arriving, the police began looking for answers.

Guns are common in Switzerland where every man between the age of 18 and 42 has a rifle stored in his wardrobe with 24 rounds for the event of war. Fresh-faced youths can often be seen lugging their rifles to training camps for military reservists at weekends.

Squeezed on a bus or tram the sight of guns is unremarkable and the Swiss have become conditioned to their presence on their streets. But even by Switzerland's gun-toting standards Leibacher was unusually well stocked.

Police files would show later that he had permits for three weapons although the authorities expressed an apparent disbelief that his personal armoury was quite so replete. After the killings, police discovered many more weapons in his car.

A police investigation is underway but there is little to investigate after the discovery of a letter of explanation on Leibacher's corpse. The mind-numbingly minor nature of his grievances and his motive for mass murder has, however, shocked many in Switzerland.

It all started, it would seem, because of an argument with a bus driver. Leibacher, who is divorced and has a daughter aged 20, lived in a leafy residential part of Zurich but used to live in the Zug area.

It was here in 1998 that he had an altercation with a bus driver called Bert Betschart. Leibacher claimed he could smell alcohol on Betschart's breath, accused him of being an alcoholic and demanded he resign.

The dispute escalated with Leibacher, described by some officials as a serial whinger, writing to the transport authorities. When he failed to get satisfaction, he threatened Betschart with a pistol in a local restaurant but the driver managed to escape.

The authorities investigated Leibacher's claims about Betschart but found them to be without foundation. But the unemployed former salesman wouldn't relent. He fired off letters to local officials and took to insulting all public transport workers whenever he met them.

In the end the authorities decided they had had enough and sued Leibacher for defamation of character. The case dragged on with Leibacher himself filing criminal charges against Betschart and several local officials whom he considered were incompetent. As the police put it: 'Friedrich Leibacher was becoming an increasingly querulous troublemaker.'

On the day before he went on his killing spree Leibacher discovered that he had lost his case. He was in many ways an accident waiting to happen. He had a string of convictions dating back to 1970 including one for child abuse and he is also known to have threatened a female employee at a benefit office. He also had tinnitus - a constant ringing sound in his ears - which may have aggravated his aggressive nature.

The people of Zug, plunged into shock and mourning, still do not know what hit them. In such a small town, with a population of just 22,000, everyone knows everyone.

Last night a candle-lit vigil was held. Flowers covered the entrance to the parliament and one note just said: 'Why?' Tomorrow the town will come together for the funerals of the victims.

Viktor Schech, who runs a snack bar behind the parliament, was one of those people who remembered Leibacher from the 1960s and 1970s.

He told The Observer: 'We called him Fritz. He always had good cars, was a little playboy and was always in trouble with the police.

'He had criminal blood flowing through his veins but for us young people he was like a God because he had a real flair with the girls.'

Ultimately, though, it seems that Leibacher was tortured by uncontrollable anger at the world. Police spokeswoman Helena Bilgerig said: 'He was a person who was always upset. Nobody could do anything right for him.'

The chilling reality is that the massacre could have happened anywhere.

The only thing it proves, according to the Swiss daily Le Temps, is that when an individual decides to sacrifice his life to bring his own brand of 'justice' it is very difficult to protect oneself.