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This article uses the life and writings of Martin Crusius (1526–1607), professor of Latin and Greek at the university of Tübingen, to explore the methods and tools of early modern ethnographers. For decades Crusius recorded contemporary Greek life under Ottoman rule by investigating a broad array of visual, material, textual, and oral evidence and by mustering various scholarly methods. The documentary record that Crusius compiled demonstrates that early modern ethnography was one among many period forms of knowledge making in which tropes and techniques from several fields and disciplines came together fruitfully. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The opera house in Leipzig opened its doors in 1693. Operas had been performed in central Germany for quite some time but they were primarily confined to courts. With the founding of the opera, Leipzig, home of an important trade fair, provided an additional musical attraction that could entertain merchants coming for the fair. While the year 1693 marks the beginning of regular opera performances in Leipzig, the preceding decades saw an increased interest in dramatic genres in the realms of both secular and sacred music. The connection between these dramatic works and the opera house are not just circumstantial. Some of the key players in the opera business in Leipzig were involved in these earlier pieces as well, especially the poet Paul Thymich, the first librettist for the Leipzig opera, who provided the majority of texts for the drammi per musica , Singspiels and sacred cantatas. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Veneration of Westphalian stigmatic and visionary Anna Katharina Emmerick (1774–1824) reached new heights during the Weimar Republic. German Catholics engaged in promoting her beatification cause organized a multipronged, multimedia campaign. Priests and laypersons, as well as the popular press and theological journals, all encouraged the veneration of Emmerick as “a crucified saint for a crucified Volk.” Memories of Napoleonic French aggression, secularization, and waning religious belief provided revanchist Weimar German Catholics with a readymade narrative of victimization. Moreover, as a poster child of the Westphalian Heimat, her pilgrimage sites offered a spiritual antidote to the “godless” modern city. Meanwhile, everyday Catholics continued a century-old, locally-based tradition of veneration that did not strictly conform to the new “official” line. Emmerick's Weimar cult, and the modern saint-making process more generally, thus provide a window onto the push and pull between clergy and laity, men and women, institutional and popular forces, in shaping lived German Catholicism in the 1920s. Die Verehrung der stigmatisierten und seherischen Anna Katharina Emmerick (1774–1824) aus Westfalen erreichte während der Weimarer Republik einen neuen Höhepunkt. Die deutschen Katholiken setzten sich für ihre Seligsprechung ein, indem sie eine mehrgleisige Multimediakampagne organisierten. Geistliche und Laien sowie die Boulevardpresse und theologische Zeitschriften ermutigten allesamt zur Verehrung der Emmerick als „einer gekreuzigten Heiligen für ein gekreuzigtes Volk.” Die Erinnerungen an die napoleonischen Kriege, die Säkularisierung und der abflauende Religionsglaube stellten dabei für die revanchistischen deutschen Katholiken Weimars eine gebrauchsfertige Opfergeschichte dar. Außerdem boten Emmericks Pilgerorte als ein Aushängeschild für ihre westfälische Heimat ein spirituelles Gegenmittel zur „gottlosen” modernen Stadt. Gleichzeitig führten die Durchschnittskatholiken eine Jahrhunderte alte, lokale Tradition der Verehrung fort, die nicht konform zur neuen „offiziellen” Richtung verlief. Der Weimarer Emmerick Kult und der moderne Prozess einer „Heiligmachung” im Allgemeinen bieten somit einen Einblick in das Hin und Her zwischen Geistlichen und Laien, Männern und Frauen sowie institutionellen und populären Kräften—und damit den gelebten Katholizismus im Deutschland der 1920er Jahre. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In 1789 in Leipzig, a slim pamphlet of 128 pages appeared that sent shock waves through the German republic of letters. The pamphlet, bearing the title Mehr Noten als Text (More notes than text), was an ‘exposure’ whose most sensational element was a list naming numerous members of the North German intelligentsia as initiates of a secret society. This secret society, known as the German Union, aimed to push back against anti-Enlightenment tendencies most obviously manifest in the policies promulgated under the new Prussian king Frederick William II. The German Union was the brainchild of the notorious theologian Carl Friedrich Bahrdt (1741–92). But who was responsible for the ‘exposure’? Using material culled from several archives, this article pieces together for the first time the back story to Mehr Noten als Text and in doing so uncovers a surprisingly heterogeneous network of Freemasons, publishers, and state officials. The findings prompt us to reconsider general questions about the relationship of state and society in the late Enlightenment, the interplay of the public and the arcane spheres and the status of religious heterodoxy at this time. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

There is so much to say about the persistent critiques of and mobilizations against Chris Dercon's vision (or lack thereof) of the newly named Volksbühne Berlin. My task here, however, is a different one: to begin to understand why there has also been such persistent mobilization on behalf of the Volksbühne am Rosa-Luxemburg-Platz. In what follows, I provide some critical context for reflection upon the unique role the Volksbühne played in post-Wall Berlin. I suggest that in his twenty-five-year tenure at the Volksbühne, Frank Castorf worked to refunction the theatre apparatus itself, to transform the theatre as state institution, as interrelated set of supporting structures that extend beyond and behind the proscenium arch. Further, Castorf's work as both director and artistic director helps us to understand the complex relations between a theatre aesthetic, which exposes and critiques the structures of its (state) support, and a theatrical institution with similarly ambitious goals. As an aesthetic and as an infrastructural project, Castorf's Volksbühne enacted a new kind of public theatre in Berlin—and it is this project of institutional dis/avowal that we must remember (and dare to reenact) as so much more than reactionary or provincial nostalgia. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

The decision to appoint Chris Dercon, director of the Tate Modern, as Frank Castorf's successor at the Volksbühne prompted an exodus of the theatre's core artistic ensemble. Chief among those who refused to stay on with Dercon at the helm was the prodigious writer and director René Pollesch. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

B6112 is a collective anticapitalist, feminist, antiracist, and queer transmedial theatre production. Welcome to our artwork! Our theatre, our art, our poetry, and our work are weapons of struggle. Art does not take place in a political, social, or economic vacuum. Art takes place in world structured by imperialism and its slaughter, war, destruction, commerce, and slavery. Art must engage with this in both content and form. Otherwise it is obsolete. B6112 advocates a theatre that calls for revolution, reveals relationships of domination, denounces grievances, names guilty parties, presents resistance strategies, explores them, rejects them. B6112 stands for the elimination of nationalisms and gender inequality, for a global citizenship, for a world community in which all people peacefully coexist in equal living conditions. B6112 stands for self-organization and emancipation, for a hierarchy-free theatre that has a mimetic and thus exemplary effect on society. In the face of global disasters, we reject an entertainment theatre or a theatre of display that acts as an opiate in the society. Only when our goals have been achieved will we be able to renegotiate the role of the theatre for our society, redefine its content, and redefine the question of relevance. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

Repatriates – so-calledSpätAussiedler– from republics of the former Soviet Union are one of the most important groups of immigrants in the Federal Republic of Germany. Granted German citizenship based on ethnicity, German policy supposed fast and smooth assimilation. Despite the fact thatSpätAussiedlerhad advantages for structural and social integration into German society compared to immigrants of non-German descent and indications of rather smooth integration, the initial hopes for fast assimilation prove to be exaggerated. Instead, as revealed by a survey and interviews on the ethnic self-identification, cultural habits, and linguistic behavior ofSpätAussiedler, a hybrid “Russian–German” identity has emerged amongst many repatriates. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

The article discusses the author's concern with historical optimism and pessimism focusing on the theories of modernity by philosopher Niccolò Machiavelli. Topics include Machiavelli's theories of political realism, his views on utopianism, and several observations on the political theories by Machiavelli. Also discussed is liberalism and pluralism in Berlin, Germany.

Before the commercialization of colonialism, Germans primarily engaged with the possibility of a German colonial empire through German explorers of Africa. This article examines the discourse about such men with an eye to the ways in which Germans formulated identities around them as celebrities in the early Kaiserreich. A shift in the discourse is observable around the time of the beginning of formal German colonialism in the mid-1880s. To that point, observers had placed German explorers within an international scientific community defined by its cosmopolitanism. From the mid-1880s, explorers more often appeared as embodiments of a chauvinistic national identity that defined German colonialism as superior to other variants. This discursive shift was indicative, on the one hand, of the erosion of the Bildungsbürgertum's control of the meaning of German colonialism and, on the other, of the emergence of alternative colonialist identities through public engagement with the exploration of Africa. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

The period from the 1950s to the late 1970s saw an almost uniform decline of cash-to-GDP ratios in industrial countries. A closer look at the German payment system suggests that the factor causing such a change was a shift towards cashless wage payments. In this period, in Germany, the branch network of banks expanded significantly and at the end of the period almost all economically active individuals had a current account. This change was triggered by rising wages and income. Rising wages increased the burden of weekly wage payments in cash, and rising income made the average earner more attractive for banks. Moreover, regulation and deregulation, by triggering both price and non-price competition, may also have played a role. Technological change was not an independent driver. In the 1950s, the number of giro accounts per German adult was comparable to the current situation in many developing countries. Yet, I argue that the German post-war experience does not provide a blueprint for most of these countries. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

From the late nineteenth century through the interwar period, the production and consumption of German things played critical roles in delineating and connecting a wide variety of German places in Latin America. Such places became ubiquitous in Chile and Argentina. They flourished because there was ample room in the German imagination for the multiplicity of German places and the cultural hybridity that accompanied them to extend beyond Imperial Germany's national boundaries and colonial possessions. They also flourished because host societies found virtue in having those German places in their states. This essay uses German schools in Argentina and Chile as a window into the emergence of such German places and the soft power that accompanied them. Scholars often overlook that power when they focus on colonial questions or formal and informal imperialism in Latin America. More than any other institution, German schools became sites where the production and consumption of German things were concentrated and multilayered, and where the consistencies and great varieties of Germanness that arrived and evolved in Latin America gained their clearest articulation. Because those schools were both centers of communities and nodes in a global pedagogical network that thrived during the interwar period, they provide us with great insight into a nexus of motivations that created German places in Latin America. Life around these schools also underscores the importance of studying immigrants and their things together. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article focuses on compulsory psychiatric admissions in the early German Democratic Republic (GDR). Until 1968 there were no East German laws regulating such hospitalizations, a regulatory vaccuum filled by neither the police nor the judicial system. Instead, families made decisions in conjunction with medical personnel about sometimes unlimited stays in psychiatric institutions and clinics—a practice that calls into question popular scholarly characterizations of the relationship between state and society in the GDR. Previous research has explicitly argued that GDR citizens had agency and acted in a so-called eigensinnige manner in many areas, but has not examined this issue with regard to the sensitive practice of forced psychiatric admissions: where there was no state interest, no Eigensinn vis-à-vis authorities was necessary. This was an especially curious constellation given that psychiatric institutions were run by the East German state and that state interventions in this area had been well established under the Third Reich, as well as in the Soviet Union, which served in many areas as a model for the GDR. One might well have expected that continuing state intervention would have thus been path-dependent. This article suggests resurrecting the term Vergesellschaftung (socialization), only shortly discussed in the 1990s, as a way in which to understand the way in which agency on the part of patient families compensated for the absence of formal state regulations regarding such admissions. The term nicely captures such routine forms of compensation by East German society in areas where the state abdicated its responsibility—as was the case in the early GDR when it came to forced psychiatric hospitalizations. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

This article examines writings on the Zigeuner (“Gypsies”) by three prominent Hungarian-German scholars—Johann Schwicker, Anton Herrmann, and Heinrich von Wlislocki—as responses to Magyarization pressures, which divided Hungarian-Germans by threatening the traditional privileges of some while offering others opportunities for social advancement. Hungarian and German elites alike cast Zigeuner as primitive Naturvölker in an effort to legitimize reform efforts. By writing about the Zigeuner, scholars asserted competing Magyar and German models for modernization and reform. Passionate German nationalist Johann Schwicker called for the Zigeuner to assimilate into Hungarian and Romanian culture, arguing that Germanization was beyond their reach, thereby asserting German culture's supposedly superior status as an elite culture. By contrast, Hungarian nationalist Anton Herrmann urged the Magyarization of the Zigeuner to strengthen the Hungarian nation-state, denigrating the role of German and Romanian culture. Finally, Heinrich Wlislocki rejected all nationalist modernizing efforts, presenting the Zigeuner as a romantic symbol of the premodern age. In all three cases, Schwicker's, Herrmann's, and Wlislocki's Zigeuner bore very limited resemblance to Romani lived experience. Collectively, the writings of these three scholars illustrate both the range of Hungarian-German responses to nationalist modernization, as well as the role of national disputes in shaping Zigeunerkunde (“Gypsy Studies”). [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

The architecturally radical Steiff teddy bear factory in Giengen, Germany is a three storey, double skin glass curtain wall building with a steel frame, built in 1903. It is almost unknown in architectural history. On the other hand the loadbearing brick Fagus factory built in 1911 to a design by Gropius and Meyer, in spite of its nineteenth century technology, has become a hallowed icon of modern architecture and a UNESCO World Heritage site. The article discusses the contested history of both buildings and offers some suggestions as to why one became famous and the other did not. It also discusses the equally contested history of the teddy bear, showing that in both cases, history tends to ignore facts in favour of good stories. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Germany is the country of legal methodology.1 No other country saw such an intense academic discourse on the question of what jurists are able, allowed, and supposed to do when interpreting and applying the law. This German peculiarity is tightly linked to the history of the German Civil Code (BGB). Carefully worded and systematically precise, this codification had the potential to significantly limit judicial freedom; thus, its advent marked the beginning of the German methodological debates. The following Article examines this relationship, starting with the year 1874 (when preliminary work on the Civil Code began) and continuing with an analysis of the five political systems during which the BGB was in force: the German Empire (1900-1914), the Weimar Republic (1918-1933), the National Socialist period (1933-1945), the GDR (1949-1989), and the Federal Republic (1949-today). With the exception of the GDR, the methodological debates consistently show attempts to enable judges to adapt the law to real life conditions, or to political ideas in conflict wi th the BGB, without formally moving beyond extant law. At the roots of 20th century methodological debates, one can thus discern a profound mistrust of German legal academia with regard to both the legislature and the judiciary. Jurists had no confidence in the BGB, which was criticized for being inflexible, outdated, and politically unsound. They did not trust in the freedom of judges either, trying instead to somehow bind them, be it to "life," "reality," "justice," "sense of justice," "national order," or "Christian Natural Law." It was not until 1958 that the Federal Constitutional Court was entrusted with the task of dynamically shaping the guiding values of society, thus forcing both the legislator and the courts to adapt the BGB to these principles. As a consequence, the heyday of German methodological debates surrounding the BGB slowly came to an end. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article aims at showing how and why two cultural periodicals, namely the German edition of Tempo, published by Mondadori between 1940 and 1943, and the German magazine Italien, the official periodical of the Deutsch-Italienische Gesellschaft from 1942 to 1944, contributed to shaping the German readership’s idea of contemporary Italian literature. The analysis of the contents of these journals shows a rather diversified cultural offer, promoting authors that would be later associated with the anti-fascist struggle. To this end, the article will particularly focus on the way these periodicals presented Elio Vittorini, who would be heralded as one of the most engaged writers of post-war Italy. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

The article discusses enforcement of consumption policies in various countries between 1951-1990 including Soviet Union, German Democratic Republic (GDR) and Romania. Various topics discussed include impact of shortages on countries' consumption, state socialist consumption, entitlement and exchange between policymakers and consumers.

A dramatic paradigm shift has occurred in European and German hate-speech laws, from their nineteenth-century origins in repressive campaigns against the Left to their present association with pluralism, tolerance, and minority rights. This article rethinks the timing and causes of that shift, arguing that, contrary to the prevailing scholarship, the decade of the 1890s--not 1945--constituted the first key turning point toward a human-rights model of hate-speech law. Departing from a more traditional legal historiography focused on formal legal institutions and laws, the article examines law "from below" as social and political practice. The results show how, in the 1890s, a new vision of hate speech began to take shape when a grassroots Jewish defense movement began to appropriate and reshape the law in order to oppose antisemites. In theoretical terms, the article's method of examining the interaction of law and politics shows that from the 1840s onward, the politics surrounding hate-speech law refutes simple binary constructions that cast German legal culture as "dignitarian" and distinct from U.S. "libertarianism." [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

This article describes how a particular kind of queer figure moved from private photography into the mainstream of East German visual culture. It begins with a set of private photographs from the late 1960s from the collection of Heino Hilger, a regular, with his friends, at the East Berlin bar Burgfrieden. The photographs show how dressing in drag and the act of photography were important ways of constituting a gay male subculture. After the decriminalization of sex between men in 1968, the gay scene became bolder and more political in East Germany. The subversion of gender norms was central to the activism of groups such as the Homosexual Interest Group Berlin (HIB) and Gays in the Church. The visibility of the queer figure culminated in the late 1980s, when parts of the film Coming Out were filmed in Burgfrieden and when the popular monthly Das Magazin published a three-part feature on male homosexuality. What all these cultural artifacts and events had in common was not just a critique of the heterosexual norm, but also a queering of the boundaries between masculinity and femininity. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

The article offers information on the virtual reconstruction of the monastic library of the monastery Abbey Lorsch in Germany. Topics discussed include the development of the international digitization project Bibliotheca Laureshamensis, digitization of Lorsch's manuscript collections, and the survival of manuscripts during the Carolingian age.

German-Jewish women are elusive figures in the current literature on World War I. Looking at the complexity of their wartime experience and its consequences for the Weimar years, this article deals with Jewish middle-class women's tripartite motivation as Germans, Jews, and females to make sacrifices for the war. To that end, it traces their efforts to help Germany to victory, to gain suffrage, and to become integrated into German society. At the same time, the article shows how these women not only transformed the war into an opportunity for greater female self-determination but also responded to wartime and postwar antisemitism. The experience of the war and the need for reorientation after 1918 motivated them to become more involved in the affairs of the German-Jewish community itself and to contribute significantly to shaping public Jewish life in Weimar Germany—but without giving up their German identity. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Zeroing in on private garden plots, the article discusses the manner in which Germans portrayed themselves in relation to displaced persons (DPs) – former foreign workers, Allied prisoners-of-war (POWs), and concentration camp inmates – in immediate post-Second World War Hanover. Challenging the notion that a coherent narrative of German victimization truly emerged only in the 1950s, the article reveals how German gardeners already articulated loudly a discourse through which they sought to depict themselves as decent, hard-working sufferers, while portraying displaced persons as immoral and dangerous perpetrators. The plots of garden owners, as foci of German yearnings for Heimat, came particularly under threat. Germans cherished such sites, not only because they provided the opportunity for procuring additional sustenance amidst a post-war world of scarcity, but because they symbolized longings to inhabit a peaceful, productive, and beautiful space into which the most turbulent history could not enter, and upon which a stable future could be constructed. Only with the removal of DPs could Germans claim for themselves the status of victims, while branding DPs perpetrators, and reaffirm past patterns of superiority and inferiority in both ethical and racial terms. In so doing, Germans could realize the innocence integral for achieving Heimat and establish democratic stability after 1945. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

We approach the issue of the economic effects of democracy by examining which expectations investors held about the effect of democratization in the Kingdom of Saxony in 1896 and 1909. We do this by linking their investment behavior on the Berlin Stock Exchange to political events in Saxony. Here the electoral law was changed twice: In 1896 a very restrictive franchise was introduced, which was abolished in 1909 and replaced by a more democratic electoral law. Our study reveals that the Berlin Stock Exchange reacted to political changes and elections in Saxony. This is an important finding since historical research has claimed that the increased democratization in the German Kaiserreich measured in a larger participation of the population was not accompanied by a larger political influence of the parliaments. Furthermore we can show that for capital owners the possible negative effects seemed to outweigh possible positive effects of democratization. This is the first time that it has been possible to provide quantitative evidence for such antidemocratic sentiments. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

In May 1951, the Hamburger Freie Presse published an article on the alleged experiences of Hans Schmidt, an East German police officer (Volkspolizist) who had sought to register earlier that year for political asylum in West Berlin. The newspaper profile followed the twenty-one-year-old Schmidt from his unit's barracks in the northern city of Rostock, across the still undefended border between Brandenburg and West Berlin, to a police station in the northwestern district of Spandau, where he announced his intention to flee to West Germany. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

A trend in studies about National Socialism and religion in recent years argues for a deliberate distinction between the Nazi Party (NSDAP) and the antisemitic völkisch movement of nineteenth-century Germany. This article challenges that contention. Several researchers have published comprehensive studies on the heterogeneous nature of Christian responses to the Nazis, but a comparable approach looking at how the Nazis viewed religion has not yet been undertaken. A study of the latter type is certainly necessary, given that one of the consistent features of the völkisch movement was its diversity. As Roger Griffin has argued, a “striking feature of the sub-culture . . . was just how prolific and variegated it was . . . [T]he only denominator common to all was the myth of national rebirth.” In short, the völkisch movement contained a colorful, varied, and often bewildering range of religious beliefs. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Research on the relationship between England and Protestant Germany during the sixteenth century has recently experienced a revival. A significant area of concentration for confessional interests among Lutherans a century ago, Anglo-German relations took a backseat in Reformation historiography during the twentieth century, but during the last decade or so a host of scholars in the UK, Germany, and USA have once again turned their attention to the topic. This review article surveys trends in scholarship on Reformation studies in both England and Germany before turning specifically to works considering instances of interaction, co-operation, and adaptation across the confessional and geographic divides. Gathering a considerable array of secondary materials, the article offers an overview of the merits and criticisms of previous analyses and concludes by pointing out a few areas for future inquiry. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

In 1910 Gustav Warneck received nominations and support for both the Nobel Peace Prize and the Nobel Prize for Literature. His boosters, mostly from Germany but also from elsewhere in Europe, later speculated that Warneck's failure to secure an award was because his dual nomination prevented enough support for either prize. Instead, they went to the Bureau international permanent de la Paix (Permanent International Peace Bureau) and to German poet and author Paul Johann Ludwig Heyse. The laudatory merits of the Permanent International Peace Bureau and Heyse aside, what had made Warneck worthy in the minds of so many for a Nobel Prize? [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

On Saturday, September 4, 1610, an urgent message arrived at the criminal court (Zentgericht) of Remlingen from the nearby rural market of Neubrunn: a dangerous criminal by the name of Georg Schmid, alias “Baker Georg,” had been apprehended the previous day, and the officials of the Zentgericht should come and get him. The chief magistrate (Zentgraf) Johann Müller, together with the court clerk and one of the jurors, accordingly rode out to Neubrunn, where the prisoner was handed over, but with the condition, as Müller subsequently reported,that if the prisoner should be released alive, and if he should cause any harm to any members of the community of Neubrunn in either the village [itself] or its fields, that they would in every case seek to recover these [damages] from the Remlingen Zentgericht, and moreover, that if they had reason to believe that the evildoer would [in fact] escape in this way, they would prefer that he die in prison. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

German Home Towns is a very forward-looking book. I say that not because it proved so influential—although it certainly had a profound impact on my generation of historians. My point is more prosaic, namely that German Home Towns occupies a set point in time and social milieu, the inaugural moment of an attenuated phase of stability for a peculiar type of human community in central Europe. That moment, of course, is 1648; the milieu is that of walled and privileged towns—large and differentiated enough for self-sufficiency in most economic functions, but not so large or so differentiated as to generate the degrees of stratification and anonymity that characterized larger commercial or manufacturing cities. In contrast to metropolitan centers, “home towns” embraced all inhabitants in a web of face-to-face relations, at once integrating, enabling, and controlling all inhabitants through guilds and the political systems built around them. Usually, almost all hometown inhabitants were citizens, too—again in contrast to larger cities, with their substrates of noncitizen residents. From the vantage of 1648, and within the stream of early modern German history, German Home Towns peers into a future of confrontation with “movers and doers”—those vanguards of the “general estate,” as Walker called them, who trampled idiosyncrasy, leveled difference, and, with some help from Napoleon, replaced both local corporatism and the imperial “incubator” with provincial and national systems of general, liberal delegation. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

This essay examines home towns in the “Third Germany,” and suggests that important assumptions about the insularity of the hometown economy might need revision. Ironically, a revised understanding of hometown economies that sees them as active participants in long-distance trade networks can help to confirm Mack Walker's core insights about the resilient strength of German home towns. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

This article presents the main findings of the first detailed reconstruction of the pattern of attendance at an early modern German school, based on the exceptionally preserved matriculation records of the Latin (grammar) school of Zwickau/Saxony in the second half of the seventeenth century. It investigates pupils’ social background, their geographical mobility, and reconstructs their educational choices. Prevailing top-down perspectives on early modern education obscure the range of choices available to pupils. This article argues that substantial social mobility into learned professions formed the backdrop to the preoccupation with rank and distinction within the Republic of Letters in the Holy Roman Empire. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

On April 11, 1977, near a small village northeast of Berlin called Marzahn, construction teams from the Volkseigener Betrieb (VEB) Tiefbau Berlin began digging the first foundation for what became the largest construction site and the largest prefabricated housing settlement (Plattenbausiedlung) not just in the German Democratic Republic (GDR), but in all of Europe (see Figure 1). An army of more than 6,000 workers arrived, and over the course of the next decade, built more than 200,000 apartments in Marzahn and the surrounding areas of the northeast edge of Berlin. These came to house more than 400,000 residents, who moved there from the older neighborhoods of East Berlin and from all over the GDR. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

In the conclusion of his 1915 dissertation, the influential German urban planner Martin Wagner argued forcefully for a new approach to the role of green space in city planning. Referring to recent efforts to improve urban hygiene and general cleanliness in major German cities, especially the public bathhouse movement of the late nineteenth century, Wagner claimed that expansion and promotion of accessible green space constituted the next big challenge for those interested in improving urban living: The health conditions of the big cities demand an expansion of sanitary living space. To incorporate nature into this development will be the communal-political challenge of the coming years. Cities, which encompass more than half of Germany's total population, have a duty . . . to secure the health of the German body and increase German strength. We must solve this challenge before we reach a point where a solution through natural means is no longer possible. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

On May 23, 1908, Frau Treppens, the proprietress of a Gasthaus near the agricultural estate Klein Ziethen contacted the governing council of Steglitz regarding an urgent concern about water damage. Steglitz was five kilometers south of Berlin's southern boundary; Klein Ziethen was twelve kilometers southeast of Steglitz. Writing on the advice of attorney Georg Hillman, Frau Treppens urgently inquired what the council was going to do about the water on her property, which had already caused “enormous damage.” Like many other property owners near Klein Ziethen, she had been battling water in her basement; for some this had been going on for two years. Frau Treppens inquired what steps Steglitz was taking against Rixdorf, another rapidly growing suburb, located on Berlin's southeast perimeter sixteen kilometers from Klein Ziethen. Why was Frau Treppens turning to the officials of Steglitz, and why did she and her attorney assume that Steglitz and Rixdorf bore responsibility for her water-soaked cellar? [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

In 1783, Friedrich Gedike wondered whether the city of Berlin was growing disproportionately to the rest of the country. Like any good enlightened observer of the city, Gedike praised the open vistas of newly planned suburbs over the cramped streets of the medieval city core. But, though a spacious city allowed for healthy use and recreation and Berlin remained much smaller than great capitals such as Paris and London, Gedike feared that Berlin's growth was becoming too rapid to control. Something, he worried, was out of proportion. Hundreds of buildings had been erected in place of the city's now demolished ramparts. This newly won land had not sufficed, however, and new suburbs with thousands of new buildings arose, streets irregularly placed, without adequate linkages to the inner city. This immoderate growth was evident in the failure to overcome the boundary between the city core and newly developed suburbs. The number of streets broken through the former fortifications land proved inadequate. This continued division, Gedike feared, would impede the city's ongoing development. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

The Czech–German borderlands are an archetypal European border region. They evoke not only Cold War histories, but also shelter layers of European memories of the ethnic reshaping of early post-war Europe. By means of life story interviews with German speakers of the border region, this article analyzes the symbolic meaning of and the individual dealing with the local Iron Curtain. It will shed light on the biographical and narrative interconnectedness of experiences of ethnic cleansing in the early post-war period and retrospective perceptions of the Iron Curtain in these borderlands. In particular, it inquires whether and to what extent the local Iron Curtain intensified fractures caused by the region's post-and pre-war attempts to halt the multiethnic composition of the border communities. The article suggests that the local Czech–German Iron Curtain would have never endured as strongly if the border communities' common identity had not already been severely damaged in the course of the region's traumatic history and forced population transfers. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]

In 1903, Elisabeth von Oertzen, a widely read author and one of the founders of the Society for the Protection of Children from Mistreatment and Exploitation, exhorted her fellow protectionists in the pages of her organization's newsletter to push for greater legal protections for children from abusive adults. The occasion for her admonition was the infamous Bavarian child abuse case in which a young male tutor, Andreas Dippold, had beaten his young charges so badly that one had succumbed to his mistreatment. The case demonstrated, von Oertzen wrote, that while torture had been abolished for adults, it was still widely practiced on children. One of the chief causes of child abuse, according to von Oertzen, was the claim to the so-called Züchtigungsrecht, the right to use corporal punishment. “Because of [the] defenselessness of children it has become customary to exercise on them the right to use corporal punishment, even where it does not exist,” she wrote. A host of people, including tutors, governesses, and babysitters claim the right, but “how far the right to corporal punishment is transferrable is entirely an open question!” Curiously, von Oertzen asserted both that there was an objectively existing “right” to use corporal punishment and that there was no consensus on where that right lay. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Located on the Alpine frontier between Bavaria and Austria, Reichenhall was once a secluded town, historically defined by its salt industry. Its reputation began to change in the mid-nineteenth century, after a number of enterprising locals opened “cure facilities,” thereby establishing the foundations of a modern health resort. By the end of the century, the spa town drew over 10,000 guests per season. The local community accommodated these visitors with an expanding hospitality industry and a growing number of pleasurable activities. By 1900, the recently renamed Bad Reichenhall had become more than a spa: it was a multifaceted and modern tourist destination, offering progressive medical treatment and cosmopolitan entertainment, along with easy access to the Alpine environment. The following article argues that the marketing of these diverse attractions provides insight into how German society thought about modernity at the turn of the century. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

In recent years historians have argued that after the collapse of the Nazi regime in May 1945, the concept of race became a taboo topic in postwar Germany but that Germans nonetheless continued to perceive resident foreign populations in racialized terms. Important studies of Jewish displaced persons, the black children of American occupation soldiers and German women, and Turkish guest workers have highlighted continuities and transformations in German racial thought from the Nazi era into the postwar world, particularly in West Germany. In a programmatic essay, Rita Chin and Heide Fehrenbach argue that “the question of race remained at the very center of social policy and collective imagination during the occupation years, as the Western Allies worked to democratize Germany, and during the Bonn Republic,” and they call for a new historiography that is more attentive to the category of race and the process of racialization in Germany and Europe after 1945. While this newfound emphasis on race in Germany's postwar history has been salutary, an approach that puts race and racialization at the center of German interactions with resident foreign populations runs the risk of sidelining the experiences of foreign groups that Germans did not view in primarily racial terms. Indeed, to a certain extent this has already occurred. By the mid-1980s, public and policy discourse on immigrants in West Germany came to focus overwhelmingly on Turks and the problems raised by their “alien” Islamic cultural practices. That West Germany's guest worker program had resulted in the permanent settlement of hundreds of thousands of Italians, Greeks, Spaniards, Portuguese, and Yugoslavs was largely forgotten. When historians, anthropologists, and scholars in other disciplines began taking more interest in Germany's migration history in recent decades, they too focused overwhelmingly on Turks. Only in recent years has the historiography of Germany's postwar migration history started to reflect the multinational character of Germany's immigrant population. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Some commentators view reforms to the German political economy since the 1990s as constituting a broad liberalisation of a previously coordinated market economy (e.g., Streeck, 2009). Others argue that by maintaining protection for core workers the reforms represent a dualisation rather than liberalisation (e.g., Palier and Thelen, 2010). This debate has paid little attention to public–private pension reform since 2001. This paper argues that pensions have been a crucial component of the German social model since 1957 and demonstrates why comprehensive analysis of its development must consider them. After summarising how public and occupational pensions have supported core German workers since 1957, the paper calculates core workers’ projected net pensions and those of less privileged employees before and after recent reforms. On this basis, it concludes that pension reforms have created a system more characteristic of a liberal than a dualised political economy. Since the reform, the projected pensions of today's young workers are closer to the poverty line, and the gap between the projected benefits of core and peripheral workers has narrowed. Increasingly, as young core workers age, they will thus have less incentive to invest in employer specific skills, a development that threatens the model as a whole. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

When asked to provide his own “solution to the Jewish Question” for a 1907 survey, the journalist and philosopher Fritz Mauthner responded, “I do not know how to give an answer to your question, because I do not know which Jewish question you mean. The Jewish question is posed differently by every questioner, differently at every time, differently at every location.” While untypical for its time, Mauthner's viewpoint is shared by many scholars who write today—not one but a myriad of “Jewish Questions” proliferated in nineteenth-century Germany and, indeed, across the globe. The dramas they framed could be transposed onto many stages, because talk about the purported virtues and vices of Jews had the remarkable ability to latch onto and thereby produce meaning for a wide range of public debates. By plumbing this excess of meaning, scholars have teased out some of the key dynamics and antinomies of modern political thought. No longer focusing solely on conservative antisemitism, they have examined the role of the “Jewish Question” in other political movements, such as liberalism and socialism, and in the conceptual elaboration of the state, civil society, and the nation. Cast in ambivalent roles at once powerful and vulnerable, familiar and foreign, the figure of the Jew acted as a lightning rod for imagining such collectivities. Opposing parties shared common assumptions, such as the tacit understanding that integration into the nation, state, or civil society required a self-transformation of Jews, something historians have referred to as the “emancipation contract.” Generally speaking, it was the terms of this contract rather than its form that divided liberals from conservatives, philo- from antisemites, and Jews from non-Jews in the nineteenth-century. Accordingly, scholars now increasingly approach the “Jewish Question” not merely as an example of prejudice, but rather as a framework through which multiple parties elaborated their positions. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

The article discusses the impact of antisemitism on Jewish Christians in twentieth-century Germany. The fate of one Jewish Christian from an Orthodox Jewish background, Maly Kagan, is used to highlight overarching themes. The article focuses on the impact of National Socialism on her work in a Protestant psychiatric hospital and for the London-based Hebrew Christian Testimony to Israel. Light is shed on how she survived the Holocaust, her work with displaced persons in Frankfurt after the war and her decision in 1952 to leave Germany to spend the rest of her life in Israel. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

German twentieth-century history is characterized by stark changes in the political system and the momentous consequences of World Wars I and II. However, instead of uncovering specific kinds or periods of “Kaiserreich science,” “Weimar science,” or “Nazi science” together with their public manifestations and in such a way observing a narrow link between popular science and political orders, this paper tries to exhibit some remarkable stability and continuity in popular science on a longer scale. Thanks to the rich German history of scientific leadership in many fields, broad initiatives for science popularization, and a population and economy open to scientific progress, the media offered particularly rich popular science content, which was diversified for various audiences and interests. Closer consideration of the format, genre, quality, and quantity of popular science, and of the uses and value audiences attributed to it, along with their respective evolution, reveals infrastructures underpinning science communication. Rather than dealing with specific discourses, the conditions of science communication are at the center of this article. Therefore I focus on the institutions, rules, laws, and economies related to popular science, as well as on the philosophical, moral, and national propositions related to it, and also on the interactions among this ensemble of rather heterogeneous elements. This approach allows a machinery of popular scientific knowledge to be identified, in Foucauldian terms a dispositif, one which is of a particularly cultural nature. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Over the past few decades, a flood of historical scholarship has been spawned by the groundbreaking works of Eric Hobsbawm, Terence Ranger, and others who have illustrated how a host of traditions were creations invented in the recent past to inform modern identities. The rituals of the British monarchy, the trappings of Scottish Highland culture, and many other traditions were revealed to have anything but ancient origins. Examination of such inventions, Hobsbawm argued, provided, among other things, a means to observe broader historical shifts. The intention of this article is not to illustrate another example of a tradition invented in the recent past. Rather, it seeks to examine how longer-standing traditions have been subject to related processes of reinvention. Some recent work, even if not written to theorize on reinvention, could be read through such a lens. Work in memory studies, for example, has shown how broad notions of national, regional, or local “tradition” could be reshaped based on how and which historical events were remembered. Works on “sites of memory” have similarly shown how conceptions of traditional objects and places can shift due to the fluctuation of memories attached to them. Beyond memory studies, scholars of theological traditions, often confronted with themes of universal truth and intergenerational change, have also produced works that could be viewed through the prism of reinvention. Kurt Schori demonstrates, for example, how the transmission of theological tradition through the written word could lead to submerged reformulation as different generations constructed linguistic meanings according to temporally specific circumstances. While such work could be read through the lens of reinvention, I would argue that more explicit consideration of the dynamics of reinvention is needed both to expand our knowledge of such processes and to develop theoretical models that characterize its diverse occurrences. I would also suggest, as Hobsbawm does with invented traditions, that examination of reinvention provides a means to lay bare symptoms of broader historical shifts. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Recent scholarship on the history of German anthropology has tended to describe its trajectory between 1900 and the Nazi period as characterized by a paradigmatic shift from the liberal to the anti-humanistic. This article reconstructs key moments in the history of anthropometric photography between 1900 and 1925, paying particular attention to the role of the influential liberal anthropologist Rudolf Martin (1864–1925) in the standardization of anthropological method and technique. It is shown that Rudolf Martin's primary significance was social and institutional. The article reconstructs key stages in Martin's writing on and uses of photography and analyses the peculiar form of scientific debate surrounding the development of anthropometric photography, which centred on local and practical questions. Against the political backdrop of German colonialism in Africa and studies of prisoners of war during the First World War, two key tensions in this history surface: between anthropological method and its politicization, and between the international scientific ethos and nationalist impulses. By adopting a practical–epistemic perspective, the article also destabilizes the conventional differentiation between the German liberal and anti-humanist anthropological traditions. Finally, the article suggests that there is a certain historical irony in the fact that the liberal Martin was central in the process that endowed physical anthropology with prestige precisely in the period when major parts of German society increasingly came to view ‘race’ as offering powerful, scientific answers to social and political questions. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

A response is presented to an article written by professor Caroline Fohlin on the history of initial public offerings (IPOs) and seasoned equity offerings (SEOs) from the Berlin, Germany Stock Exchange between 1882 and 1892. The author argues that German underwriters shared their profits with investment issuers. He discusses the relationship between offering prices and par values and provides examples of underwriters' contracts for the German companies Accumulatoren-Fabrik AG, Anglo-Continentale-Guanowerke AG Hamburg, and Sürther Maschinenfabrik AG.

We examine the impact of the Great Depression on the share of votes for right-wing extremists in elections in the 1920s and 1930s. We confirm the existence of a link between political extremism and economic hard times as captured by growth or contraction of the economy. What mattered was not simply growth at the time of the election, but cumulative growth performance. The impact was greatest in countries with relatively short histories of democracy, with electoral systems that created low hurdles to parliamentary representation, and which had been on the losing side in World War I. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

What was the moral horizon of ordinary SA men? What did they think, what did they believe, and what were their ideals? These are hard questions to answer even when they concern people still alive and events still going on. To pose them some eighty years after the fact is to admit that no answer can be definitive. Yet a fresh look at some well-known contemporary sources can at least allow some tentative, suggestive answers. They demonstrate, above all, an emphasis on frenetic activism, combined with a sense of personal suffering and sacrifice. They stress key National Socialist values, such as antisemitism, criticism of the bourgeoisie, and a commitment to an idealized national community, or Volksgemeinschaft. And yet, they also reflect, to a certain extent, pre-Nazi middle-class values. Beyond this, they show men trying desperately to rewrite themselves as ideal SA men and Nazis. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]

Established in spring 1928, the Sturmabteilung's (SA's) Sturm 33 was known in the Berlin area for its bloody street fighting. Four years after its founding, the well-known journalist Gabriele Tergit observed in the Weltbühne that “People know it—when Sturm 33 is involved, . . . there is terror. But no newspaper says as much any longer, no police pass it on as news—it is civil war as habit.” The Berlin-Charlottenburg district's SA-Sturm represented the Nazi movement's systematic application of violence in an especially acute manner, as both social experiences and the way of living within the unit were closely tied to violent action. In that respect, I will here argue that in Sturm 33, only an internal sociohistorical dynamic of violently plotting camaraderie made it possible to fulfill Nazism's ideological promise of integration, rendering it plausible within the organizational unit's particular cosmos. [ABSTRACT FROM PUBLISHER]