Ryan Faulk Is Not a Slave to Your Funhouses

Simulblogged at Holocaust Controversies

Ryan Faulk is a guy who likes to depict himself, according to his Youtube channel “The Alternative Hypothesis, as “Anti-racist, anti-Nazi, anti-totalitarian.” That said, his race-IQ obsession would seem to undermine the first claim. And now, his foray into Holocaust denial would seem to belie the second.

In a video posted to Bitchute on June 7 entitled “Then Where Did the Jews Go?”, Faulk dips his toe into these troubled waters. You can find the video if you want; he also posted the text transcript, which you can find here.

You’ll notice, on page 7 of the transccript, that Ryan’s analysis begins with the American Jewish Yearbook figures. He also relies fairly heavenly on Walter Sanning’s Dissolution of European Jewry. We’ve addressed both texts quite extensively at this website: here’s a representative sample. In short, Faulk’s video is just old sardines in a new tin. So why bother with it?

I decided to respond to some of Faulk’s arguments in a comment on his Bitchute channel. Rather than going point by point, I decided to address the figures on page 25 of his transcript (roughly 40 minutes into the video). Faulk’s assertion here was simple — six million Jews could have not been murdered because there were slightly fewer than three million Jews within reach of the Nazis or their allies in August 1940.

The question I posed in response was simple: Why should we trust his figures when the Nazis’ own population figures, presented at Wannsee in January 1942, indicate quite different numbers? Faulk claims there were only 720,402 Jews in Poland (here, he is referring is referring only to those areas of Poland under German control in August 1940); however, the Wannsee Protocol puts that number (Generalgouvernement + Ostgebiete) at 2.684 million. The number for Hungary that Faulk presents (431,731) is more than 300,000 less than the Wannsee figure (742,800). A quick Ctrl-F search will tell you Faulk doesn’t mention the Wannsee data at all in his presentation.

Then, I went after his claims about the movements of Jewish populations within Poland between September 1939 and June 1941. Faulk makes the following claim, being charitable (he claims) in presenting the lowest possible estimates: “This means we assume 750,000 Polish Jews fled from Nazi Poland to Soviet Poland, and 100% of them survived that trip, and 100% of them wanted to return to Nazi Poland, and were thus sent off to Siberia.”

It so happens that I wrote a term paper on this topic not that long ago, so I was pretty sure he was way off here. As I noted in my Bitchute comment, the USHMM put the number of Jews fleeing into the Soviet zone of occupation following the Nazi invasion at 300,000. Moreover, of these Jewish refugees, not only did 100% of them not desire return to Nazi-occupied Poland (for what should be obvious reasons), but also not all of the Jewish refugees in the Soviet zone undergo deportation. Grzegorz Hryciuk’s study of the topic found two major deportations of Jewish refugees: the first, which was forced impressment to Ukraine to work in mines, deported 60,000 people, but Ukrainians and Poles were both deported along with Jews. Even if we assume that all of the deportees between October 1939 and August 1940 were Jews, that’s still far smaller than Faulk’s number of 750,000. Further, Hryciuk’s study identifies only one further deportation of Jewish refugees from the Soviet zone — this one in June 1940 — subjected more than 75,000 Jews to either deportation or arrest. Even if we add these two figures together, it only yields a total of 135,000 Jews, compared to Faulk’s 750,000.

Why, I asked, should we consider Faulk’s figures at all reliable?

Not only did Faulk not respond to my topic, but he deleted it and subsequently blocked me from posting further on his channel. When I asked him on Gab (his Twitter account has been suspended) why he had not responded to my comment and blocked me, he responded cryptically, “I’m not a slave to your funhouses.”

So much for the confidence of the young new generation of deniers in their assertions.

Rise and Fall of the Habsburg Monarchy

Between the Protestant Reformation and the outbreak of World War I, the Habsburg Monarchy underwent a remarkable transformation, beginning the period as a collection of hereditary lands ruled directly by the Holy Roman Emperor and ending it as a multinational state that had undergone extraordinary processes of state formation and consolidation, liberalization, and democratization. As Europe underwent the Counter-Reformation, French Revolution, Napoleonic Wars, and Age of Nationalism, the Habsburg Monarchy charted its own unique course, consistently choosing reform over revolution and compromise over intransigence even as it acquired Great Power status. The ten authors whose works reviewed in this essay trace this path chronologically.

            The first step in understanding the evolution of the Habsburg Monarchy over this period requires investigating the how the Counter-Reformation unfolded under its rule. Martin Luther launched the Reformation from within the Electorate of Saxony – a state of the Holy Roman Empire – and the century and a half of war that ensued was fought within the empire’s borders. At the Council of Trent, held in the mid-sixteenth century in the Tyrol in the Vorlande of the Habsburg possessions (so-called Outer or Further Austria), the Vatican set the agenda for the Counter-Reformation, but its progression varied across different areas of Europe and even different regions of the Habsburg Monarchy itself. While the historiography has tended to depict the Counter-Reformation in Austria as the authoritarian reassertion of Roman Catholic domination, in his studies,Joseph F. Patrouch has argued that the process was far more extensive and laborious, particularly in Upper Austria, the western half of what then was the Archduchy of Austria.

            In contrast to the near uniform Catholicism of the Upper Austrian population on the eve of World War I, by the middle of the sixteenth century, Protestantism was widespread in the area, constituting the faith of the majority of the population, largely as the result of the area’s proximity to the Protestant hotbed of Bohemia. Patrouch characterizes the Habsburg Monarchy as holding a fundamentally weak position during this period, facing the opposition not only of the predominantly Protestant nobility of Upper Austria but also of the peasant population, which had become accustomed to Lutheran innovations in the mass, such as communion in both kinds (the congregation drinking wine – a privilege previously held only by clergy – in addition to eating a consecrated host), and the clergy itself, which had taken to breaking its vows of celibacy at an alarming rate. The monasteries were under the direct control of the crown but also subject to the authority of the Bishop of Passau (across the border in Bavaria), himself appointed by the Pope and thus an exemplar of Catholic orthodoxy. In contrast, the peasants fell under the direct political authority of the Herrschaften – the local nobility – which while technically subject to rule by Vienna nevertheless enjoyed substantial autonomy in local affairs. In addition, the Herrschaften were subordinate to a regional assembly of Estates that met in Linz, the Upper Austrian capital, and that was often in conflict with Vienna over religious questions.

            As a result, to reassert Catholic authority, extensive compromise on the part of the crown was necessary, as well as the ability to maneuver among multiple levels of political and religious authority. Since the monasteries were directly under the crown’s authority, they provided a natural starting point for the reassertion of Catholic predominance. As Patrouch writes, “When the political constellation [in Upper Austria] changed, this foundation could and did serve as the basis for establishing Habsburg authority, together with the authority of ecclesiastical representatives allied with them as a component of the Counter-Reformation.”[1] The initial reassertion of orthodoxy took the form of rooting out married clergy – a campaign that took up much of the first decades of the Counter-Reformation. Although this measure was met with substantial resistance by the clergy and peasantry both, Patrouch argues that the promise of the withdrawal of new rights enjoyed by women during the Reformation offered an incentive for certain local and clerical authorities to abandon resistance. However, it was only after the crushing of the Bohemian Revolt in 1620 that the Protestant nobility in Upper Austria was sufficiently cowed for the crown’s Counter-Reformation efforts to escalate. The Peace of Westphalia at the end of the Thirty Years’ War ultimately settled the matter.

As noted, the Counter-Reformation in the Habsburg hereditary lands was ultimately quite successful if religious affiliation in the early twentieth century is any metric. Perhaps counterintuitively, the roughly 250 years between the Peace of Westphalia and World War I saw the Habsburgs controlling an increasingly diverse population, both ethnically and religiously, and the monarchy’s reactions to this mounting diversity was more often tolerant than intolerant. By the middle of the nineteenth century, Austria could be considered a liberal, multinational constitutional monarchy. Among the chief questions to be considered in examining the evolution of the Habsburg Monarchy from the Catholic standard bearer of Central Europe in the 17th and 18th centuries to a liberal multinational state by its dissolution is the role played by the central government in this evolution.

Chief among the institutions playing a role in this transformation was the military. In his work, Michael Hochedlinger provides a comprehensive examination of the Habsburg military, focusing primarily on its centralization over the long eighteenth century. In painstaking detail, Hochedlinger shows how Austria centralized and strengthened its military as it faced threats to its security from inside and outside Europe. In the process of meeting these challenges, beginning with the threat of Ottoman expansion into Central Europe and finishing with the French Revolutionary Wars, Hochedlinger writes, “the need to mobilize domestic resources for well-night permanent war drove forward the growth and establishment of absolutist government, making eighteenth-century Austria a highly militarized state perfectly comparable to her rivals in east-central Europe, Prussia and Russia.”[2]

            The early pages of Hochedlinger’s monography on this topic focuses on the challenges with Habsburg military supremacy within the borders of the Holy Roman Empire until the mid-seventeenth century. The Peace of Augsburg (1555), which first recognized the rights of Protestants in the Empire under the principle of cuius regio, cuius religio, had resulted in the consolidation of military power in the hands of the regional Estates and out of the Catholic emperors’ hands. The defeat of these same Estates’ militaries in the first phase of the Thirty Years’ War, however, shifted the balance of military power back to the center. Subsequently, the wresting of control over Hungary from the Ottomans had two important effects. First, Habsburg control was asserted over a territory with a significant proportion of non-Catholics, so while Counter-Reformation measures were initially imposed, they were quickly abandoned due to resistance. Second, with the Habsburgs now defending the border with the Ottoman Empire, the stage was set for Austria to emerge, upon victory, as a Great Power. Victory over the Ottomans in the Siege of Vienna in 1683 is the first engagement that Hochedlinger covers in the second half of his book.

            Alongside the military ascent of the Habsburg state was political centralization. Playing a key role here was the Diet of the Holy Roman Empire, which had met only irregularly and not at all for most of the Thirty Years’ War. Beginning in the 1660s, the Diet was convened permanently in Regensburg in Bavaria with the Archbishop-Elector of Mainz in the Rhineland acting as arch-chancellor of the Empire. With the immerwährender Reichstag (eternal legislature) of the Empire now constituted, the monarchy had greater ability to impose the taxation necessary to fund its centralized military. In the interest of maintaining the delicate balance of power established with the Peace of Westphalia, the Empire established France and Sweden – both allies against the Habsburg in the Thirty Years’ War and holders of imperial territory – as guarantors of the imperial constitution. “Thanks to these guarantees,” Hochedlinger writes, “the Reich now became a focus of European power politics and a centre of gravity of the European states-system,”[3] even as Habsburg power concentrated outside of the Empire’s borders.

Of course, there were other significant institutional changes under the Habsburgs beyond those treated by Hochedlinger that contributed to transforming life under their rule. In his writing, Franz A.J. Szabo has examined the reforms undertaken by the monarchy in the mid- to late 1700s. First, recapitulating Hochedlinger, Szabo details how, under the Empress Maria Theresa, control of the army was centralized from provincial control to Vienna. Second, to raise money for this new centralized military, a peacetime tax was levied for the first time on the landed gentry.

However, the brunt of the substantial changes were undertaken under Emperor Joseph II, giving the name “Josephinism” to the Austrian version of liberal reforms undertaken under enlightened absolutism. Szabo identifies cameralism as the primary political ideology underlying Joseph’s reforms. Cameralism, which “generally addressed practical problems of state building and posited policy recommendations to improve resource management and the productivity and moral well-being of society,”[4] took a peculiar form in the Habsburg Monarchy, however. Whereas in other parts of Europe, cameralism was strongly identified with mercantilist political economy, with its consequent focuses on high tariffs and a zero-sum approach to international trade, under the influence of Wenzel Anton, Prince of Kaunitz-Rietberg, state chancellor from 1753 to 1792, the Austrian economy was increasingly influenced by the anti-cameralist positions opinions of the Enlightenment in Western Europe. Emphasizing free trade over protection, this new direction in political economy was intended to provide fiscal support to the increasingly centralized state. This project did require some tweaking, however; Szabo points out that Kaunitz’s initial centralizing impulse, embodied in the Direktorium established in the 1750s as a sort of superministry, ultimately gave way in the subsequent decade to multiple autonomous government ministries and a Staatsrat (state council) to communicate to the Emperor the opinions of these competing ministries.

            Szabo’s most interesting point is his inclusion of Jansenism – a Catholic movement heavily influenced by Calvinism’s emphasis on predestination, sin, and grace – among the forces pushing the Habsburg Monarchy toward reform. Under Jansenism’s influence, reformers sought to bring the Catholic Church even further under state control. As Szabo writes, Joseph “took the position that in its demands on the Church the state ought to take a maximalist position because the complaints it was bound to receive would be the same whether the demands were moderate or extreme.”[5] The result of the power of the Church being brought under the thumb of the state was that “[s]ecular, rational, and utilitarian values and a simpler, internalized religious ethos thus came to constitute the backbone of Josephinism.”[6] Thus, militant Catholicism gave way to a softer ecumenism. Within this context, Joseph’s twin reforms of the Toleranzpatent of 1781, which provided religious freedom to Lutherans, Calvinists, and Orthodox Christians living under the Habsburg Monarchy, and the Toleranzedikt of 1782, which extended these protections to Jews as well, were a logical outcome.

The importance of internal reforms, notwithstanding, if there is a watershed moment in the history of Austria’s emergence as a Great Power over the course of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, it is the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire in 1806. The traditional historiography of this event has tended to view the end of the Empire as a foregone conclusion set in motion with the Peace of Westphalia and expedited by the advent of Napoleon. According to this view, by the time the coup de grace was delivered by the last Emperor Francis II, the Empire was well past its sell-by date.

However, Peter H. Wilson has argued that the Empire still played a substantive role in European power politics in the first decade of the 19th century and that Austria, as a sort of successor state, was in fact more powerful than its rival, the German state of Prussia. Wilson grounds his analysis in the notion that, compared especially to France, there was not widespread political unrest in German-speaking Europe during the French Revolution and Napoleonic period; therefore, “one must seek explanations for its [the Holy Roman Empire’s] end in the sphere of high politics.”[7] Playing a crucial role in these high politics were Austria, Prussia, and the oft-ignored “third Germany” of the Rhineland states, which were ultimately consolidated by Napoleon into the Confederation of the Rhine. Although the political maneuvering among these three German powers had to a large extent already begun by the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars, the processes that culminated in the Empire’s dissolution were more complex than the traditional view of Napoleon carving off Rhineland provinces from the Empire to form a buffer against Prussia. Instead, innovations such as the Reichsdeputationshauptschluss (Principal Conclusion of the Imperial Delegation), according to which a massive reorganization of the Imperial states was undertaken and Catholic power within the Empire diminished relative to Protestant power, were more important. Although such a reconfiguration would seem to weaken Austria’s position within the Empire, it nevertheless allowed Francis II to consolidate authority over the remaining Catholic dominions.

The final stage of the Empire’s disappearance involved the transition of Francis II from Holy Roman Emperor to Emperor of Austria, a change that took place two years earlier, largely in preparation for the Empire’s imminent dissolution. Wilson masterfully details the delicate negotiations with France that allowed Napoleon to elevate himself to the title of Emperor while preventing him from making a claim to the throne of Charlemagne. Agreeing that neither the French nor Austrian emperor would lay claim to the title of Holy Roman Emperor, “both new titles were more royal than imperial: there was still only one Emperor in Europe.”[8] That this Emperor and the Emperor of Austria were the same person made little difference with the knowledge that the Holy Roman Empire would soon disappear.

In a final piece of Imperial chess, Francis II and his foreign minister Count Stadion agreed that Francis’s abdication from the throne of Charlemagne should coincide with the dissolution of the Empire to prevent Bavaria or Saxony from claiming the throne for themselves – a right reserved to them under the Imperial constitution during any interregnum. Thus, even in finally relinquishing control of the Holy Roman Empire, the Habsburgs recognized not only the emergence of Napoleon in France as a continental power and a sort of parity with Prussia and the Confederation of the Rhine but also the potential competition to be mounted by German states left independent by the Empire’s end.

Thus, if the Holy Roman Empire did not survive the Napoleonic period, the Empire of Austria did, and with its chancellor, Klemens von Metternich, chairing the Congress of Vienna, which set the balance of the power for the subsequent century, Austria’s position as a Great Power was secured. With a new German Confederation that included Austria and Prussia replacing Napoleon’s Confederation of the Rhine, a period of stability for central Europe began that lasted three decades. Ultimately, it was the revolutions of 1848 – the “springtime of nations” – that fractured that stability. For Austria in particular, the revolutions began nearly twenty years of profound political change necessitated by the rise of nationalism among Hungarians, Italians, and Germans. The works of three historians – Jonathan Kwan, Geoffrey Wawro, and R.J.W. Evans – read together provide a full understand of how the nationalist struggles involving these peoples are their states shaped Austrian society for the last third of the nineteenth century.

The revolution that posed the greatest threat to Austrian stability was that in Hungary. As noted above, the Habsburgs had gained control over Hungary from the Ottomans. In 1848, the Hungarians rose up and demanded independence from Vienna; it was only after more than a year of fighting and with the assistance of Russia that the Habsburg were able to bring Hungary back under their control. With the expansion of government control required to bring the Magyars to heel, the new emperor, Franz Joseph, reasserted absolutism and extinguished the hopes of liberal revolutionaries.

            However, Kwan argues that the generation of liberal political activists that came of age in the Vormärz – the period “before March (1848),” when the revolutions began – were not discouraged by the expansion of autocratic power on the part of the Emperor in the early 1850s; rather, he writes, “the crucial formative experiences for the liberals were their participation in the 1848 revolutions and the reckoning its multi-faceted legacy, often while working and progressing within the neo-absolutist system of the 1850s.”[9] In an essay, Kwan traces the career trajectories of seven important liberal politicians and reformers to demonstrate how certain characteristics that they shared were important to their later roles in constructing Austrian liberalism.

            For instance, none of the seven men owned substantial property in land, unlike the previous generations of government elites. Instead, their families were bureaucrats or entrepreneurs. Particularly for those whose fathers had been bureaucrats, periods of work in the lower echelons of the bureaucracy were also formative. In addition, most of the seven men had participated in civil society and other voluntary organizations that arose in Austria during the Vormärz and that would play such an important role in the post-1867 liberal state. Although the Hungarian revolution of 1848-1849 caused disagreement among the seven men, Kwan writes, “there was a shared belief in constitutional reform and a mildly progressive Austrian state and society, which promoted a sense of brotherhood and common mission, even if there were disagreements over tactics and specific issues.”[10] When challenges from Italy and Germany arose in the late 1850s and early 1860s, Kwan argues, this moderate generation of liberal reformers was already in position to embrace the monarchy as it moved in a more liberal direction.

            Austria’s next major crisis after the 1848 revolutions was the Risorgimento or the unification of Italy. France and Austria had fought as allies against the Italian nationalists in 1848-1849 and retained control of their respective holdings on the peninsula. However, by 1859, France’s emperor Napoleon III saw the value in siding with the nationalists, with Austria losing most of its territory in northern Italy, although it retained control over Venetia. In the seven years between Austria’s loss to the Italians at the Battle of Solferino and the outbreak of war between Austria and Prussia, Wawro argues that Franz Joseph took a consistently belligerent position toward his neighbors as a way of maintaining absolutist control over the state even as its economic fortunes consistently deteriorated. In his work, Wawro asks, “Was it mere coincidence that, in 1865-6, the Habsburg Emperor, Franz Joseph, combined a coup against parliament with foreign war on two fronts?”[11]

In Wawro’s estimation, the neo-absolutist expansion of his powers that the Emperor accomplished after 1849 was threatened following the loss to Italy in 1859; consequently, Franz Joseph intervened in the Danish-Prussian war in 1864, using victory in this case to reassert maximum political control. In the two years that followed, the Emperor both refused to cut the military budget and failed to establish credit with western European banks at anything less than usurious interest rates. This dilemma left Franz Joseph with the choice of either levying extremely unpopular taxes or waging war yet again in hopes of gaining currency through reparations from defeated enemies. Veneto provided the setting for the Emperor’s gamble, but the simultaneous outbreak of war with Prussia in June 1866 stretched Austria’s military too thin for victory. Although Prussia did not claim territory from Austria in its defeat – it merely excluded Austria from the German Reich that it would declare in 1871 – Italy won Veneto to Austria’s great embarrassment.

Like most historians of the period, Wawro sees in Austria’s defeat in 1866 the seeds of its consequent move to liberalism. However, he interprets this move in the context of resurgent nationalism, which the defeats of 1866 left the Emperor unable to effectively counter through another reassertion of absolute rule. Rebellion threatened again, not just in Hungary but now also in Bohemia, where violence broke out against Germans and Jews, the latter as progenitors of German culture among the Czech majority. With a treasury stretched to the maximum and a demoralized military, compromise would have to Franz Joseph’s strategy, rather than pacification.

It is now a truism in Austrian historiography that the Compromise of 1867 – by which Hungary received status under Habsburg rule as a kingdom with its own parliament and ministers, and the Dual Monarchy was declared – and liberal government reform were interrelated. In an essay, Evans identifies a three-step program of constitutional transformation for Austria, beginning in 1859. First, he writes, “the advisory functions of the Reichsrat [the Austrian legislature] were expanded, still in corporative (landständisch) terms, and it was allowed to grow milk teeth of consent”[12]; i.e., the Reichsrat, while retaining representation according to class and interest group, nevertheless entered into a cooperative relationship with Emperor, rather than a merely advisory one. Second, in 1860 (still seven years before the Hungarian Compromise), the Reichsrat began to push the Emperor for more complete representation, with both the establishment of regional diets and an expanded national franchise. Finally, with these pushes toward more complete representation came outreach to the ethnic German population of the Empire.

This last part of the transformation obviously alienated the Hungarian population and its elites and ultimately necessitated the Compromise. In addition, from Evans’s standpoint, it was a grave miscalculation given Austria’s ultimate exclusion from German unification. As a result, following the Compromise, Germans constituted only a small minority of the Empire’s population in the Austrian half of the Dual Monarchy compared to an overwhelming majority of Slavs: Czechs, Slovaks, Poles, Ukrainians, Slovenians, Croats, and Serbs. Although the Compromise provided standing to the Magyars that would satisfy all but the most vehement Hungarian nationalists for the remainder of the existence of the Austrian Empire, the door was now opened to demands from one Slavic population after another – first Czechs and Poles but ultimately Ukrainians and South Slavs. For the remainder of his reign, the balancing act that Franz Joseph would have to perform would consist of making concessions to nationalist movements while maintaining the territorial integrity of his empire. That the twenty years following the Compromise would be dominated by liberal politicians and governments in Vienna would demonstrate both the potential of liberalism to find accommodations with a complex population and its inability to stem the tide of dissatisfaction from both left and right in times of crisis.

The survival tactics of the regime notwithstanding, the last five decades of the Habsburg Monarchy were remarkably stable, even as the political culture of Austria transformed. In his work,István Deák argues that army officers played an essential role in this stability. Even as the liberal hold on the government was increasingly challenged by ethnic interest groups and economic dissatisfaction from both left and right, the officer corps managed to avoid being affected by these cleavages. From the standpoint of ethnicity, the army stood apart from increasing conflict because it represented a largely meritocratic institution in which individuals could rise regardless of their ethnic origins. With regard to economics, although the pay for Austrian officers was notably lower than those for French or German officers, the egalitarian ethos of the military institution lent itself to preventing the emergence of class resentments.

For instance, Deák notes, regardless of relative rank, officers addressed one another (and often were addressed by their enlisted men) with the familiar pronoun du rather than the formal Sie. Such conventions, as well as “fundamentally decent administration, unheard-of liberties, economic progress, and lack of political boundaries between the Carpathians mountains and the Swiss Alps,”[13] helped to foster an environment of toleration. This sense of familiarity dovetailed with the language policies of the army, which required officers to speak any language spoken by at least twenty percent of their men, giving rise to a leadership that, while Austrian, could not be said to German, Hungarian, or any other ethnicity. In addition, despite the fact that so many officers rose from the peasantry and the artisanal and working classes, the appeal of the more economically based parties – particularly the Social Democrats – in the last quarter of the century failed to gain ground among military men.

            Other factors that Deák acknowledges as important to creating the non-nationalistic military of the Habsburg Monarchy include the military academies and the relationship between the Emperor, as supreme commander of the army, and the officers. He writes, “The military schools of the Joint Army remained stubbornly indifferent to the social background (except in the case of archdukes), ethnicity, and religion of their students.”[14] The pipeline from these academies into the officer corps operated for such a long time and Franz Joseph reigned for so long that, by the turn of the century, nearly the entirety of the officer corps had never served another sovereign. This fact contributed enormously to the officers’ sense of being direct representatives of the dynasty, in addition to (or perhaps instead of) the state. This relationship, which transcended ethnicity and politics, became primary for many of them. As Deák notes, “This alone protected them from the nearly irresistible influence of nationalist and social-political agitation.[15]

            The other demographic in the Habsburg Monarchy that tended to avoid class and national divisions was the civil service. Beyond the army and civil service, however, political cleavages along ethnic and economic lines began to exert centrifugal forces on Austrian society as the promises of liberalism began to appear false. In response to these factors, the Habsburg government, rather than react with force as it had to the Revolutions of 1848 or to Italian secessionism, sought repeated compromises over the next forty years. The major concession made by Franz Joseph was the creation of the Dual Monarchy, which acknowledged Hungary as a nation on par with Austria, deserving not only of its own government but also subject peoples – in the case of Hungary, these peoples were primarily Romanians, Serbs, and Slovaks. However, it was already clear in 1867 that the Magyars would not be the last national group under Habsburg rule to demand greater rights.

Much of the scholarship on the Habsburg Monarchy has claimed that, for the last fifty years of the monarchy’s existence, it was slowly but surely torn apart by the ethnic nationalisms of Czechs, Poles, Ukrainians, Jews, and others. However, in his work, John W. Boyer has suggested that, while the plurality embraced in the 1867 Austrian constitution was disastrous for the post-World War I Austria republic, it was the right constitution for its time. Boyer writes that the 1867 constitution “sought to modulate, if not suppress, the political valence of ethnicity in favor of the juristic mirage of an Austro-Liberal state ideology.”[16] In short, the Habsburg Monarchy sought moderation with nationalistic demands within the context of liberalism in government.

            Boyer’s most significant contribution the historiography of the Habsburg Monarchy consists of his two volumes on the origins, growth, and seizure of power by the Christian Social Party, led by Kurt Lueger, who was eventually appointed mayor of Vienna by the Emperor in the late 1790s. While the Social Democrats emerged from dissatisfaction with liberalism’s embrace of laisser-faire capitalism, the Christian Socials rose as the result of the abandonment of the petit bourgeois artisanal class, as well as liberal ecumenism’s removal of the Catholic Church from a privileged position within Austrian society. Thus, while the Christian Socials were not leftists like the Social Democrats, they were at least as illiberal in their political orientation and at least as popular among voters in the monarchy.

            From Boyer’s standpoint, the failures of liberalism that gave rise to new political movements in the 1870s and 1880s occurred because “[i]mmature radicalisms flourished in a culture of misinformation and faulty citizenship skills”[17]; i.e., in a state offering only a limited franchise and, thus, limited class mobilization, political radicalism was a to-be-expected outcome. However, the response of the monarchy’s government was to increase the franchise and thus bring these new parties into the political tent. While the long, slow, complicated process of Austria moving from a restricted franchise in 1867 to universal male suffrage in 1907 is beyond the scope of this essay, Boyer believes that each step toward universal suffrage allowed for the release of tension and the continuation of political moderate. In his words, “This slow cooking of an increasingly dense political culture created strong regional pockets of social interest and political networking. What may have looked like political anarchy from a central, state-level perspective masked the assemblage of building blocks of Mittelstand power … which would eventually be blended into a broader democratic rhetoric and strategy after 1907.”[18]

            The outcome of the 1907 election tells the story: the Christian Socials emerged at the single largest political party, with 65 of the 516 in the Reichsrat, with the Social Democrats finishing second, with 50 seats; both parties more than doubled their seats from the previous 1900-1901 election. While the Social Democrats garnered increased votes on the basis of economic stagnation and working class political mobilization, Boyer contends that it was the enfranchisement of a men able to pay a five-gulden poll tax to vote (roughly $55 in 2020 U.S. currency) that made the difference from Christian Socials, “for it made possible the slow build up of a distinctive Mittelstand political culture in the regions and in larger urban areas that did not have to face the stark pressures of Social Democracy directly.”[19]

            Among the final tactics devised by the Habsburgs to maintain the territorial integrity and political unity of the monarchy was a Hungarian solution for every nationality desiring self-government. In 1906, a commission led by the crown prince, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, recommended the creation of a federation of fifteen national territories. With power devolved nearly entirely to the provincial level, this state – die Vereinigte Staaten von Groß-Österreich (United States of Greater Austria) – would satisfy (it was hoped) the national aspirations of the empire’s dozen or so nations. However, the plan never advanced beyond informal discussion, and with the assassination of Franz Ferdinand, it was shelved permanently.

            That said, the spirit of this plan lived on through the end of the war and the dismantling of the Dual Monarchy at the Paris Peace Conference and with the Treaties of Saint-Germain and Trianon. Although it covers a period extending far beyond 1919, Timothy Snyder’s biography of Archduke Wilhelm Franz, The Red Prince, details how the final imperial government under its final Emperor Karl attempted to engender new nation states in Eastern Europe under constitutional monarchies led by the Habsburgs. Much of Snyder’s story concerns the Polish and Ukrainians in Austrian Galicia, but the dynamics here indicate much about the larger political situation and the solutions sought by the Emperor and his family.

            On the heels of the Compromise of 1867, the Habsburgs had handed much of the governing in Galicia over to the Polish nobility. During the war and the dual occupation of Polish-speaking lands by Germany and Austria, as a way of inspiring a Polish uprising in the parts of Poland under the rule of the Russian Empire, the two occupying forces in Galicia proclaimed a Kingdom of Poland in November 1916 with Franz Joseph in the role of Habsburg protector and Archduke Wilhelm’s father Archduke Stefan – a Polonophile who resided in Galicia and raised his children to speak Polish – being considered as regent. However, Franz Joseph died a mere two weeks later and was succeeded by his nephew Karl, who envisioned ruling Poland directly. Nevertheless, regardless of who ended up ruling an independent and enlarged Poland constituted of areas under both Habsburg and Romanov rule, the national aspirations of Ukrainians, who also lived under both dynasties, would be unanswered.

            Here, Snyder recounts, Archduke Wilhelm saw his own role. Wilhelm had embraced Ukrainian language and culture as way to establish independence from his father. In doing so, he had inserted himself in the national debate in Ukraine and was considered a contender to become the constitutional monarch in Kyiv. Since east and west Galicia were predominantly populated by Ukrainians and Poles, respectively, Galicia could be split into separate Polish and Ukrainian realms. “If such a province were created,” Snyder writes, “western Galicia could then be joined to the Kingdom of Poland with no harm to Ukrainians… He proposed a Habsburg monarchy composed of Austrian, Bohemian, Hungarian, and Polish kingdom, as well as a ‘Principality of Ukraine.’ An archduke would be the regent of each of these kingdoms.”[20] Upon becoming Emperor, Karl collaborated directly with Archduke Wilhelm in supporting the Ukrainian national movement, in addition to leading a Ukrainian unit of soldiers on the front against Russia. The final year of the war saw the Bolshevik Revolution and subsequent Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, Karl’s unsuccessful attempt to convince the Germans to sue for peace, and finally the defeat of the Central Powers.

            Although any realistic aspiration of Wilhelm or his father to act as regent in a newly independent eastern European kingdom ended here, it was nevertheless the case that Emperor Karl and Archduke Wilhelm both attempted over the next five years to reassert authority over former Habsburg territories. For Karl, his aspirations focused on Hungary, which had even proclaimed itself a monarchy after the defeat of its short-lived Soviet Republic. In early 1921, he went to Budapest in an overture to the regent of Hungary, Admiral Miklos Horthy, to restore Karl to the throne. Horthy refused, stating that “a restoration in Hungary would bring an invasion from the countries that had gained Hungarian territory at the Paris peace settlements.”[21] Wilhelm’s attempts to be named King of Ukraine during a short-lived period of independence there were abortive. Finally, following Karl’s death, his son, Otto, was viewed as a possible restored monarch for the Republic of Austria, particularly during the early 1930s, when the republic sought to maintain its independence from an insurgent Nazi Germany. The Anschluss of 1938 put a final end to Habsburg monarchical aspirations.

            In conclusion, if the conventional wisdom about the rise and fall of the Habsburg Monarchy is one of a Vatican-empowered state crushing the Reformation in Central Europe and asserting centuries of enlightened absolutism only to be brought down by nationalism, the readings reviewed here demonstrate the extent to which this wisdom is an oversimplification. The process of Counter-Reformation under the Habsburg was long, slow, and gradual; the period of enlightened absolutism owed at least as much to military power as to centralized reform; and the regime successfully maintained its territorial integrity for fifty years even as nationalism emerged and dominated imperial politics. Particularly after 1867, the Habsburg Monarchy had strong, apolitical central institutions and a nearly unrivaled ability to compromise with its potential destroyers. There is no reason to believe that, without World War I, the Habsburgs could not have continued that record through the twentieth century and led Central and Eastern Europe into a multinational future.


[1] Joseph F. Patrouch, A Negotiated Settlement: The Counter-Reformation in Upper Austria Under the Habsburgs (Leiden, the Netherlands, 2000), 40.

[2] Michael Hochedlinger, Austria’s Wars of Emergence: 1683-1797 (Milton Park, U.K.: Routledge, 2003), 2.

[3] Hochedlinger, Austria’s Wars, 55.

[4]Franz A.J. Szabo, “Cameralism, Josephinism, and Enlightenment: The Dynamic of Reform in the Habsburg Monarchy, 1740–92,” Austrian History Yearbook, 49 (2018): 4.

[5] Szabo, “Cameralism,” 13.

[6] Szabo, “Cameralism,” 5.

[7] Peter H. Wilson, “Bolstering the Prestige of the Habsburgs: The End of the Holy Roman Empire in 1806,” International History Review, 28, no. 4 (2006): 712.

[8] Wilson, “Bolstering the Prestige,” 724.

[9] Jonathan Kwan, “The Formation of the Liberal Generation in Austria, c. 1830-1861: Education, Revolution, and State Service,” in The Habsburg Civil Service and Beyond: Bureaucracy and Civil Servants From the Vormärz to the Interwar Years, edited by Franz Adlgasser and Fredrik Lindström (Vienna: Austrian Academy of Sciences, 2019), 70.

[10] Kwan, “The Formation,” 89.

[11] Geoffrey Wawro, “The Habsburg Flucht nach vorne in 1866: Domestic Political Origins of the Austro-Prussian War,” International History Review, 17, no. 2 (1995): 222.

[12] R.J.W Evans, “From Confederation to Compromise: The Austrian Experiment, 1849–67,” in Austria, Hungary, and the Habsburgs: Central Europe c. 1683-1867 (New York: Oxford UP, 2006), 285-286.

[13] István Deák, Beyond Nationalism: A Social and Political History of the Habsburg Officer Corps 1848-1918 (New York: Oxford UP, 1990), 9.

[14] Deák, Beyond Nationalism, 89.

[15]Deák, Beyond Nationalism, 138.

[16] John W. Boyer, “Power, Partisanship, and the Grid of Democratic Politics: 1907 as the Pivot Point of Modern Austrian History,” Austrian History Yearbook, 44 (2013): 149.

[17] Boyer, “Power, Partisanship,” 154.

[18] Boyer, “Power, Partisanship,” 153.

[19] Boyer, “Power, Partisanship,” 151.

[20] Timothy Snyder, The Red Prince: The Fall of a Dynasty and the Rise of Modern Europe (New York: Vintage, 1999), 89.

[21] Snyder, Red Prince, 141.

Austrian Liberalism and Its Discontents

The survival tactics of the regime notwithstanding, the last five decades of the Habsburg Monarchy were remarkably stable, even as the political culture of Austria transformed. In Beyond Nationalism: A Social and Political History of the Habsburg Officer Corps, 1848-1918, István Deák argues that army officers played an essential role in this stability. Even as the liberal hold on government was increasingly challenged by ethnic interest groups and economic dissatisfaction from both left and right, the officer corps managed to avoid being affected by these cleavages. From the standpoint of ethnicity, the army stood apart from increasing conflict because it represented a largely meritocratic institution in which individuals could rise regardless of their ethnic origins. With regard to economics, although the pay for Austrian officers was notably lower than those for French or German officers, the egalitarian ethos of the military institution lent itself to preventing the emergence of class resentments.

For instance, Deák notes, regardless of relative rank, officers addressed one another (and often were addressed by their enlisted men) with the familiar pronoun du rather than the formal Sie. Such conventions, as well as “fundamentally decent administration, unheard-of liberties, economic progress, and lack of political boundaries between the Carpathians mountains and the Swiss Alps” (p. 9), helped to foster an environment of toleration. This sense of familiarity dovetailed with the language policies of the army, which required officers to speak any language spoken by at least twenty percent of their men, giving rise to an officer corps that, while Austrian, could not be said to German, Hungarian, or any other ethnicity. In addition, despite the fact that so many officers rose from the peasantry and the artisanal and working classes, the appeal of the more economically based parties – particularly the Social Democrats – in the last quarter of the century failed to gain ground among military men.

            Other factors that Deák acknowledges as important to creating the non-nationalistic military of the Habsburg Monarchy include the military academies and the relationship between the Emperor, as supreme commander of the army, and the officers. He writes, “The military schools of the Joint Army remained stubbornly indifferent to the social background (except in the case of archdukes), ethnicity, and religion of their students” (p. 89). The pipeline from these academies into the officer corps operated for such a long time, and Franz Joseph reigned for so long, that by the turn of the century, nearly the entirety of the officer corps had never served another sovereign. This fact contributed enormously to the officers’ sense of being direct representatives of the dynasty, in addition to (or perhaps instead of) the state. This relationship, which transcended ethnicity and politics, became primary for many of them. As Deák notes, “This alone protected them from the nearly irresistible influence of nationalist and social-political agitation” (p. 138).

            The other demographic in the Habsburg Monarchy that tended to avoid class and national divisions was the civil service. Beyond the army and civil service, however, political cleavages along ethnic and economic lines began to exert centrifugal forces on Austrian society as the promises of liberalism began to appear false. In response to these factors, the Habsburg government, rather than react with force as it had to the Revolutions of 1848 or to Italian secessionism, sought repeated compromises over the next forty years. The major concession made by Franz Joseph was the creation of the Dual Monarchy, which acknowledged Hungary as a nation on par with Austria, deserving not only of its own government but also subject peoples – in the case of Hungary, these peoples were primarily Romanians, Serbs, and Slovaks. However, it was already clear in 1867 that the Magyars would not be the last national group under Habsburg rule to demand greater rights.

Much of the scholarship on the Habsburg Monarchy has claimed that, for the last fifty years of the monarchy’s existence, it was slowly but surely torn apart by the ethnic nationalisms of Czechs, Poles, Ukrainians, Jews, and others. However, in his essay “Power, Partisanship, and the Grid of Democratic Politics: 1907 as the Pivot Point of Modern Austrian History,” John W. Boyer suggests that, while the plurality embraced in the 1867 Austrian constitution was disastrous for the post-World War I Austria republic, it was the right constitution for its time. Boyer writes that the 1867 constitution “sought to modulate, if not suppress, the political valence of ethnicity in favor of the juristic mirage of an Austro-Liberal state ideology” (p. 149). In short, the Habsburg Monarchy sought moderation with nationalistic demands within the context of liberalism in government.

            Boyer’s most significant contribution the historiography of the Habsburg Monarchy consists on his two volumes on the origins, growth, and seizure of power by the Christian Social Party, led by Kurt Lueger, who was eventually appointed mayor of Vienna by the Emperor in the late 1790s. While the Social Democrats emerged from dissatisfaction with liberalism’s embrace of laisser-faire capitalism, the Christian Socials rose as the result of the abandonment of the petit bourgeois artisanal class, as well as liberal ecumenism’s removal of the Catholic Church from a privileged position within Austrian society. Thus, while the Christian Socials were not leftists like the Social Democrats, they were at least as illiberalism in their political orientation and at least as popular among voters in the monarchy.

            From Boyer’s standpoint, the failures of liberalism that gave rise to new political movements in the 1870s and 1880s occurred because “[i]mmature radicalisms flourished in a culture of misinformation and faulty citizenship skills” (p. 154); i.e., in a state offering only a limited franchise and, thus, limited class mobilization, political radicalism was a to-be-expected outcome. However, the response of the monarchy’s government was to increase the franchise and thus bring these new parties into the political tent. While the long, slow, complicated process of Austria moving from a restricted franchise in 1867 to universal male suffrage in 1907 is beyond the scope of this essay, Boyer believes that each step toward universal suffrage allowed for the release of tension and the continuation of political moderate. In his words, “This slow cooking of an increasingly dense political culture created strong regional pockets of social interest and political networking. What may have looked like political anarchy from a central, state-level perspective masked the assemblage of building blocks of Mittelstand power … which would eventually be blended into a broader democratic rhetoric and strategy after 1907” (p. 153).

            The outcome of the 1907 election portrays the story: the Christian Socials emerged at the single largest political party, with 65 of the 516 in the Reichsrat, with the Social Democrats finishing second, with 50 seats; both parties more than doubled their seats from the previous 1900-1901 election. While the Social Democrats garnered increased votes on the basis of economic stagnation and working class political mobilization, Boyer contends that it was the enfranchisement of a men able to pay a five-gulden poll tax to vote (roughly $55 in 2020 U.S. currency) that made the difference from Christian Socials, “for it made possible the slow build up of a distinctive Mittelstand political culture in the regions and in larger urban areas that did not have to face the stark pressures of Social Democracy directly” (p. 151).

Crisis and Compromise in the Habsburg Monarchy: 1848-1867

If the Holy Roman Empire did not survive the Napoleonic period, the Empire of Austria did, and with its chancellor, Klemens von Metternich, chairing the Congress of Vienna, which set the balance of the power for the subsequent century, Austria’s position as a great power was secured. With a new German Confederation that included Austria and Prussia replacing Napoleon’s Confederation of the Rhine, a period of stability for central Europe began that lasted three decades.

            Ultimately, it was the revolutions of 1848 – the “springtime of nations” – that fractured that stability. For Austria in particular, the revolutions began nearly twenty years of profound political change necessitated by the rise of nationalism among Hungarians, Italians, and Germans. The works of three historians – Jonathan Kwan, Geoffrey Wawro, and R.J.W. Evans – read together provide a full understand of how the nationalist struggles involving these peoples are their states shaped Austrian society for the last third of the nineteenth century.

            The revolution that posed the greatest threat to Austrian stability was that in Hungary. As noted above, the Habsburgs had gained control over Hungary from the Ottomans. In 1848, the Hungarians rose up and demanded independence from Vienna; it was only after more than a year of fighting and with the assistance of Russia that the Habsburg were able to bring Hungary back under their control. With the expansion of government control required to bring the Magyars to heel, the new emperor, Franz Joseph, reasserted absolutism and extinguished the hopes of liberal revolutionaries.

            However, Kwan argues that the generation of liberal political activists that came of age in the Vormärz – the period “before March 1848,” when the revolutions began – were not discouraged by the expansion of autocratic power on the part of the Emperor in the early 1850s; rather, he writes, “the crucial formative experiences for the liberals were their participation in the 1848 revolutions and the reckoning its multi-faceted legacy, often while working and progressing within the neo-absolutist system of the 1850s” (p. 70). In his essay “The Formation of the Liberal Generation in Austria, c. 1830-1861,” Kwan traces the career trajectories of seven important liberal politicians and reformers to demonstrate how certain characteristics that they shared were important to their later roles in constructing Austrian liberalism.

            For instance, none of the seven men owned substantial property in land, unlike the previous generations of government elites. Instead, their families were bureaucrats or entrepreneurs. Particularly for those whose fathers had been bureaucrats, periods of work in the lower echelons of the bureaucracy were also formative. In addition, most of the seven men had participated in civil society and other voluntary organizations that arose in Austria during the Vormärz and that would play such an important role in the post-1867 liberal state. Although the Hungarian revolution of 1848-1849 caused disagreement among the seven men, Kwan writes, “there was a shared belief in constitutional reform and a mildly progressive Austrian state and society, which promoted a sense of brotherhood and common mission, even if there were disagreements over tactics and specific issues” (p. 89). When challenges from Italy and Germany arose in the late 1850s and early 1860s, Kwan argues, this moderate generation of liberal reformers was already in position to embrace the monarchy as it moved in a more liberal direction.

            Austria’s next major crisis after the 1848 revolutions was the Risorgimento or the unification of Italy. Although France and Austria had fought as allies against the Italian nationalists in 1848-1849 and retained control of their respective holdings on the peninsula, by 1859, France’s emperor Napoleon III saw the value in siding with the nationalists, with Austria losing most of its territory in northern Italy, although it retained control over Venetia. In the seven years between Austria’s loss to the Italians at the Battle of Solferino and the outbreak of war between Austria and Prussia, Wawro argues that Franz Joseph took a consistently belligerent position toward his neighbors as a way of maintaining absolutist control over the state even as its economic fortunes consistently deteriorated. In “The Habsburg Flucht nach vorne in 1866: Domestic Political Origins of the Austro-Prussian War,” Wawro asks, “Was it mere coincidence that , in 1865-6, the Habsburg Emperor, Franz Joseph, combined a coup against parliament with foreign war on two fronts?” (p. 222).

In Wawro’s estimation, the neo-absolutist expansion on his powers that the Emperor accomplished after 1849 was threatened following the loss to Italy in 1859; consequently, Franz Joseph intervened in the Danish-Prussian war in 1864, using victory in this case to reassert maximum political control. In the two years that followed, the Emperor both refused to cut the military budget and failed to establish credit with western European banks at anything less than usurious interest rates. This dilemma left Franz Joseph with the choice of either levying extremely unpopular taxes or waging war yet again in hopes of gaining currency through reparations from defeated enemies. Veneto provided the setting for the Emperor’s gamble, but the simultaneous outbreak of war with Prussia in June 1866 stretched Austria’s military too thin for victory. Although Prussia did not claim territory from Austria in its defeat – it merely excluded Austria from the German Reich that it would declare in 1871 – Italy won Veneto to Austria’s great embarrassment.

Like most historians of the period, Wawro sees in Austria’s defeat in 1866 the seeds of its consequent move to liberalism. However, he interprets this move in the context of resurgent nationalism, which the defeats of 1866 left the Emperor unable to effectively counter through another reassertion of absolute rule. Rebellion threatened again not just in Hungary but now also in Bohemia, where violence broke out against Germans and Jews, the latter as progenitors of German culture among the Czech majority. With a treasury stretched to the maximum and a demoralized military, compromise would have to Franz Joseph’s strategy, rather than pacification.

It is now a truism in Austrian historiography that the Compromise of 1867 – by which Hungary received status with the Habsburg monarchy as a kingdom and its own parliament and ministers, and the Dual Monarchy was declared – and liberal government reform were interrelated. In his essay, entitled “From Confederation to Compromise: The Austrian Experiment, 1849–67,” Evans identifies a three-step program of constitutional transformation for Austria, beginning in 1859. First, he writes, “the advisory functions of the Reichsrat [the Austrian legislature] were expanded, still in corporative (landständisch) terms, and it was allowed to grow milk teeth of consent” (pp. 285-286); i.e., the Reichsrat, while retaining representation according to class and interest group, nevertheless entered into a cooperative relationship with Emperor, rather than a merely advisory one. Second, in 1860 (still seven years before the Hungarian Compromise), the Reichsrat began to push the Emperor for more complete representation with both the establishment of regional diets and an expanded national franchise. Finally, with these pushes toward more complete representation came outreach to the ethnic German population of the Empire.

This last part of the transformation obvious alienated the Hungarian population and its elites and ultimately necessitated the Compromise. In addition, from Evans’s standpoint, it was a grave miscalculation given Austria’s ultimate exclusion from German unification. As a result, following the Compromise, Germans constituted only a small minority of the Empire’s population in the Austrian half of the Dual Monarchy compared to an overwhelming majority of Slavs: Czechs, Slovaks, Poles, Ukrainians, Slovenians, Croats, and Serbs. Although the Compromise provided standing to the Magyars that would satisfy all but the most vehement Hungarian nationalists for the remainder of the existence of the Austrian Empire, the door was now opened to demands from one Slavic population after another – first Czechs and Poles but ultimately Ukrainians and South Slavs. For the remainder of his reign, the balancing act that Franz Joseph would have to perform would consist of making concessions to nationalist movements while maintaining the territorial integrity of his empire. That the twenty years following the Compromise would be dominated by liberal politicians and governments in Vienna would demonstrate both the potential of liberalism to find accommodations with a complex population and its inability to stem the tide of dissatisfaction from both left and right in times of crisis.

Habsburg Military and Political Centralization Post-Westphalia

            As noted, the Counter-Reformation in the Habsburg hereditary lands was ultimately quite successful if religious affiliation in the early twentieth century is any metric. Perhaps counterintuitively, the roughly 250 years between the Peace of Westphalia and World War I saw the Habsburgs controlling an increasingly diverse population, both ethnically and religiously, and the monarchy’s reactions to this mounting diversity was more often tolerant than intolerant. By the middle of the ninetheeth century, Austria could be considered a liberal, multinational constitutional monarchy. Among the chief questions to be considered in examining the evolution of the Habsburg Monarchy from the Catholic standard bearer of Central Europe in the 17th and 18th centuries to a liberal multinational state by its dissolution is the role played by the central government in this evolution.

Chief among the institutions playing a role in this transformation was the military. In his monograph Austria’s Wars of Emergence: 1683-1797, Michael Hochedlinger provides a comprehensive examination of the the Habsburg military, focusing primarily on its centralization over the long eighteenth century. In painstaking detail, Hochedlinger shows how Austria centralized and strengthened its military as it faced threats to its security from inside and outside Europe. In the process of meeting these challenges, beginning with the threat of Ottoman expansion into Central Europe and finishing with the French Revolutionary Wars, Hochedlinger writes, “the need to mobilize domestic resources for well-night permanent war drove forward the growth and establishment of absolutist government, making eighteenth-century Austria a highly militarized state perfectly comparable to her rivals  in east-central Europe, Prussia and Russia” (p. 2).

            The early pages of Hochedlinger’s study focuses on the challenges with Habsburg military supremacy within the borders of the Holy Roman Empire until the mid-seventeenth century. The Peace of Augsburg (1555), which first recognized the rights of Protestants in the Empire under the principle of cuius regio, cuius religio, had resulted in the consolidation of military power in the hands of the regional Estates and out of the Catholic emperors’ hands. The defeat of these same Estates’ militaries in the first phase of the Thirty Years War, however, shifted the balance of military power back to the center. Subsequently, the wresting of control over Hungary from the Ottomans had two important effects. First, Habsburg control was asserted over a territory with a significant proportion of non-Catholics, and while Counter-Reformation measures were initially imposed, they were quickly abandoned. Second, with the Habsburgs now defending the border with the Ottoman Empire, the stage was set for Austria to emerge, upon victory, as a Great Power.

            Alongside the military ascent of the Habsburg state was political centralization. Playing a key role here was the Diet of the Holy Roman Empire, which had met only irregularly and not at all for most of the Thirty Years War. Beginning in the 1660s, the Diet was convened permanently in Regensburg in Bavaria with the Archbishop-Elector of Mainz in the Rhineland acting as arch-chancellor of the Empire. With the immerwährender Reichstag (eternal legislature) of the Empire now constituted, the monarchy had greater ability to impose the taxation necessary to fund its centralized military. In the interest of maintaining the delicate balance of power established with the Peace of Westphalia, the Empire established France and Sweden – allies against the Habsburg in the Thirty Years War and holders of imperial territory – as guarantors of the imperial constitution. “Thanks to these guarantees,” Hochedlinger writes, “the Reich now became a focus of European powre politics and a centre [sic] of gravity of the European states-system” (p. 55), even as Habsburg power concentrated outside of the Empire’s borders.

The End of the Holy Roman Empire and the Advent of the Empire of Austria

            If there is a watershed moment in the history of Austria’s emergence as a great power over the course of the 18th and 19th centuries, it is the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire in 1806. The traditional historiography of this event has tended to view the end of the Empire as a foregone conclusion set in motion with the Peace of Westphalia and expedited by the advent of Napoleon. According to this view, by the time the coup de grace was delivered by the last Emperor Francis II, the Empire was well past its sell-by date.

However, Peter H. Wilson argues in his essay “Bolstering the Prestige of the Habsburgs: The End of the Holy Roman Empire in 1806” that the Empire still played a substantive role in European power politics in the first decade of the 19th century and that Austria, as a sort of successor state, was in fact more powerful than its rival German state Prussia. Wilson grounds his analysis in the notion that, compared especially to France, there was not widespread political unrest in German-speaking Europe during the French Revolution and Napoleonic period; therefore, “one must seek explanations for its [the Holy Roman Empire’s] end in the sphere of high politics” (p. 712). Playing a crucial role in these high politics were Austria, Prussia, and the oft-ignored “third Germany” of the Rhineland states, which were ultimately consolidated by Napoleon into the Confederation of the Rhine. Although the political maneuvering among these three German powers was to a large extent begun by the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars, the processes that culminated in the Empire’s dissolution were more complex than the traditional view of Napoleon carving off Rhineland provinces from the Empire to form a buffer against Prussia. Instead, innovations such as the Reichsdeputationshauptschluss (Principal Conclusion of the Imperial Delegation), according to which a massive reorganization of the Imperial States was undertaken and Catholic power within the Empire diminished relative to Protestant power. Although such as reconfiguration would seem to weaken Austria’s position within the Empire, it nevertheless allowed Francis II to consolidate authority over the remaining Catholic dominions.

The final stage of the Empire’s disappearance involved the transition of Francis II from Holy Roman Emperor to Emperor of Austria, a change that took place two years earlier, largely in preparation for the Empire’s imminent dissolution. Wilson masterfully details the delicate negotiations with France that allowed Napoleon to elevate himself to the title of Emperor while preventing him from making a claim to the throne of Charlemagne. Agreeing that neither the French nor Austrian emperor would lay claim to the title of Holy Roman Emperor, “both new titles were more royal than imperial: there was still only one Emperor in Europe” (p. 724). That this Emperor and the Emperor of Austria were the same person made little difference with the knowledge that the Holy Roman Empire would soon disappear.

In a final piece of Imperial chess, Francis II and his foreign minister Count Stadion agreed that Francis’s abdication from the throne of Charlemagne should coincide with the dissolution of the Empire to prevent Bavaria or Saxony from claiming the throne for themselves – a right reserved to them under the Imperial constitution during any interregnum. Thus, even in finally relinquishing control of the Holy Roman Empire, the Habsburgs recognized not only the emergence of Napoleon in France as a continental power and a sort of parity with Prussia and the Confederation of the Rhine but also the potential competition to be mounted by German states left independent by the Empire’s end.

Habsburg Reform Under Enlightened Absolutism

            Among the chief questions to be considered in examining the evolution of the Habsburg Monarchy from the Catholic standard bearer of Central Europe in the 17th and 18th centuries to a liberal multinational state by its dissolution is the role played by the central government in this evolution. In his essay “Cameralism, Josephinism, and Enlightenment: The Dynamic of Reform in the Habsburg Monarchy, 1740–92,” Franz A.J. Szabo examines the reforms undertaken by the monarchy in the mid- to late 1700s. First, under the Empress Maria Theresa, control of the army was centralized from provincial control to Vienna. Second, to raise money for this new centralized military, a peacetime tax was levied for the first time on the landed gentry.

However, the brunt of the substantial changes were undertaken under Emperor Joseph II, giving the name “Josephinism” to the Austrian version of liberal reforms undertaken under enlightened absolutism. Szabo identifies cameralism as the primary political ideology underlying Joseph’s reforms. Cameralism, which “generally addressed practical problems of state building and posited policy recommendations to improve resource management and the productivity and moral well-being of society” (p. 4), took a peculiar form in the Habsburg Monarchy, however. Whereas in other parts of Europe, cameralism was strongly identified with mercantilist political economy, with its consequent focuses on high tariffs and a zero-sum approach to international trade, under the influence of Wenzel Anton, Prince of Kaunitz-Rietberg, state chancellor from 1753 to 1792, the Austrian economy was increasingly influenced by the anti-cameralist positions opinions of the Enlightenment in Western Europe. Emphasizing free trade over protection, this new direction in political economy was intended to provide fiscal support to the increasingly centralized state. This project did require some tweaking, however; Szabo points out that Kaunitz’s initial centralizing impulse, embodied in the Direktorium established in the 1750s as a sort of superministry, ultimately gave way in the subsequent decade to multiple autonomous government ministries and a Staatsrat to communicate to the Emperor the opinions of these competing ministries.

            Szabo’s most interesting point is his inclusion of Jansenism – a Catholic movement heavily influenced by Calvinism’s emphasis on predestination, sin, and grace – among the forces pushing the Habsburg Monarchy toward reform. Under Jansenism’s influence, reformers sought to bring the Catholic Church even further under state control. As Szabo writes, Joseph “took the position that in its demands on the Church the state ought to take a maximalist position because the complaints it was bound to receive would be the same whether the demands were moderate or extreme” (p. 13). The result of the power of the Church being brought under the thumb of the state was that “[s]ecular, rational, and utilitarian values and a simpler, internalized religious ethos thus came to constitute the backbone of Josephinism” (p. 5). Thus, militant Catholicism gave way to a softer ecumenism. Within this context, Joseph’s twin reforms of the Toleranzpatent of 1781, which provided religious freedom to Lutherans, Calvinists, and Orthodox Christians living under the Habsburg Monarchy, and Toleranzedikt of 1782, which extended these protections to Jews as well.

Counter-Reformation in the Habsburg Monarchy

            Between the Protestant Reformation and the outbreak of World War I, the Habsburg Monarchy underwent a remarkable transformation, beginning the period as a collection of hereditary lands ruled directly by the Holy Roman Emperor and ending it as a multinational state that had undergone extraordinary processes of state formation and consolidation, liberalization, and democratization. As Europe underwent the Counter-Reformation, French Revolution, Napoleonic Wars, and Age of Nationalism, the Habsburg Monarchy charted its own unique course, consistently choosing reform over revolution and compromise over intransigence even as it acquired Great Power status. The ten readings reviewed in this essay trace this path chronologically.

            The first step in understanding the evolution of the Habsburg Monarchy over this period requires investigating the how the Counter-Reformation unfolded there. Luther launched the Reformation from within the Electorate of Saxony – a state of the Holy Roman Empire – and the century and a half of war that ensued was fought within the empire’s borders. At the Council of Trent, held in the Tyrol in the Vorlande of the Habsburg possessions (so-called Outer or Further Austria), the Vatican set the agenda for the Counter-Reformation, but its progression varied across different areas of Europe and even different regions of the Habsburg Monarchy itself. While the historiography has tended to depict the Counter-Reformation in Austria as the authoritarian reassertion of Roman Catholic domination, in A Negotiated Settlement: The Counter-Reformation in Upper Austria Under the Habsburgs, Joseph F. Patrouch argues that the process was far more extensive and laborious, particularly in Upper Austria, the western half of what was then the Archduchy of Austria.

            In contrast to the near uniform Catholicism of the Upper Austrian population on the eve of World War I, Protestantism was widespread in the area, constituting a majority of the population by the middle of the sixteenth century, largely as the result of the area’s proximity to the Protestant hotbed of Bohemia. Patrouch characterizes the Habsburg Monarchy as holding a fundamentally weak position during this period, facing the opposition not only of the predominantly Protestant nobility of Upper Austria but also the peasant population, which had become accustomed to Lutheran innovations in services, such as communion in both kinds (the congregation drinking wine as well as eating a consecrated wafer – a privilege previously held only by clergy), and the clergy itself, which had taken to breaking its vows of celibacy at an alarming rate. The monasteries were under the direct control of the crown but also subject to the authority of the Bishop of Passau (across the border in Bavaria), himself appointed by the Pope and thus an exemplar of Catholic orthodoxy. In contrast, the peasants fell under the direct political authority of the Herrschaften – the local nobility – which while technically subject to rule by Vienna nevertheless enjoyed substantial autonomy in local affairs. In addition, the Herrschaften were subordinate to a regional assembly of estates that met in Linz and that was often in conflict with Vienna over religious questions.

            As a result, to reassert Catholic authority, extensive compromise on the part of the crown was necessary, as well as the ability to maneuver among multiple levels of political and religious authority. Since the monasteries were directly under the crown’s authority, they provided a natural starting point for the reassertion of Catholic predominance. As Patrouch writes, “When the political constellation [in Upper Austria] changed, this foundation could and did serve as the basis for establishing Habsburg authority, together with the authority of ecclesiastical representatives allied with them as a component of the Counter-Reformation” (p. 40). The initial reassertion of orthodoxy took the form of rooting out married clergy – a campaign that took up much of the first decades of the Counter-Reformation. Although this measure was met with substantial resistance by the clergy and peasantry both, Patrouch argues that the promise of the withdrawal of new rights enjoyed by women during the Reformation offered an incentive for certain local and clerical authorities to abandon resistance. However, only after the crushing of the Bohemian Revolt in 1620 were the Protestant nobility in Upper Austria sufficiently cowed for the crown’s Counter-Reformation efforts to escalate. The Peace of Westphalia at the end of the Thirty Years’ War ultimately settled the matter.

Update and Reading List

My sixth (of eight) courses began two weeks ago, entitled Europe, 1550-1850. There is a single writing requirement in the course, which is a 20-page review paper of a reading list that the student prepares him-/herself. Therefore, what I’ll be doing here this semester is writing 500 words on each of the following works as I complete them. The topic of the list is diplomatic/military/political history of Austria, 1550-1900.

1.           Patrouch, Joseph F. A Negotiated Settlement: The Counter-Reformation in Upper Austria Under the Habsburgs. Boston: Brill, 2000.

2.           Wheatcroft, Andrew. The Enemy at the Gate: Habsburgs, Ottomans, and the Battle for Europe. New York: Random House, 2009.

3.           Blitz, R.C. “The Religious Reforms of Joseph II (1780-1790) and their Economic Significance.” Journal of European Economic History, 18, no. 3 (1989): 583-594.

4.           Wilson, Peter H. “Bolstering the Prestige of the Habsburgs: The End of the Holy Roman Empire in 1806.” International History Review, 28, no. 4 (2006): 709-736.

5.           Aliprantis, Christos. “Transnational Policing after the 1848–1849 Revolutions: The Habsburg Empire in the Mediterranean.” European History Quarterly, 50, no. 3 (2020): 412-437.

6.           Evans, R.J.W. “From Confederation to Compromise: The Austrian Experiment, 1849–67.” In: Austria, Hungary, and the Habsburgs: Central Europe c. 1683-1867, 266-292. New York: Oxford UP, 2006.

7.           Wawro, Geoffrey. The Austro-Prussian War: Austria’s War with Prussia and Italy in 1866. New York: Cambridge UP, 1997.

8.           Deák, István. Beyond Nationalism: A Social and Political History of the Habsburg Officer Corps 1848-1918. New York: Oxford UP, 1990.

9.           Hamann, Brigitte. Hitler’s Vienna: A Dictator’s Apprenticeship. New York: Oxford UP, 1999.

10.         Snyder, Timothy. The Red Prince: The Fall of a Dynasty and the Rise of Modern Europe. New York: Vintage, 1999.

Historiographic Essay: Neoliberalism in Chile

              On December 19, Chileans will elect a new president, choosing between the two candidates with the most votes in the first round of voting held on November 21. At stake is the future in Chile of neoliberalism – the economic system introduced under the military regime of Augusto Pinochet. The candidate of the left is Gabriel Boric, who has ridden a tide of protest against economic austerity. The candidate of the right, José Antonio Kast, is the younger brother of one of Chilean neoliberalism’s architects and a vocal supporter of the Pinochet regime. With the election viewed by many as a referendum on Chile’s economic future, it is worth considering how and why neoliberalism was introduced in Chile in the 1970s and what its short- and long-term consequences have been.

              The neoliberal policies implemented under Pinochet were the work of the so-called Chicago boys, a cadre of academics trained in economic theory at the University of Chicago who occupied important positions in Chile’s ministries of finance and the economy in the 1970s and 1980s. The origins of the Chicago boys were first explored and described by Juan Gabriel Valdés in his Pinochet’s Economists: The Chicago School in Chile.[1] Since Valdés published his book, a number of monographs and studies have appeared that have both revised Valdés’s account of the Chicago boys’ ascent and examined the effects of the policies that they implemented. Whereas Valdés began to tell the story of how neoliberalism infiltrated Chile’s economy, Eduardo Silva, Glen Biglaiser, Peter Winn, Thomas Klubock, and Heidi Tinsman have extended this story into examinations of how this infiltration affected Chilean workers, both generally and in specific sectors, and have offered critical accountings of the supposed “economic miracle” that Chilean neoliberalism brought.

Analyses of Chilean Neoliberalism in the 1980s and 1990s

            In Pinochet’s Economists, Valdés, trained as a political scientist at Princeton (this book was his dissertation), traces Chilean neoliberalism from its initial emergence among a minority of U.S. macroeconomists following World War II. Given the Keynesian consensus that had arisen in the 1930s and 1940s, economists espousing classical economic positions found themselves struggling to gain traction in discussions of postwar policy. Whereas the Keynesians had shown the success of their stance, with government spending during the Great Depression alleviating some of the deepest lows of the period, neoliberals were advocating for a return to free markets as a universal panacea. They argued that public spending needed to be cut, that public industries should be privatized, and that inflation could only be alleviated by shrinking the money supply and thus limiting credit, as well as a host of other policies that the majority of economists then opposed – particularly in Latin America, where extensive government intervention in economies had been the norm since the 1930s.

Valdés charts the penetration of neoliberalism into South American political economy from the emergence of the University of Chicago as a center of neoliberal thought in the immediate postwar period, led primarily by Milton Friedman. Beginning in the 1950s there began, according to Valdés, a program of “ideological transfer,” by which “a series of regulatory proposals and several policy recommendations”[2] that were commonly advocated for among Chicago economists became broadly supported among the newest generation of economists in Chile. At work was a program initiated by the United States International Cooperation Administration, which in 1961 became the United States Agency for International Development (USAID). Under this program, which encouraged cooperation between institutions of higher learning in the United States and Latin America, the University of Chicago established a program with the Universidad Católica de Chile whereby Chilean students were trained in economics at Chicago under the tutelage of prominent advocates of neoliberalism. Once they returned to Chile, these students established the Universidad Católica as a base for future operations. However, given the commitment of multiple Chilean administrations to developmentalist policies rooted in import substitution industrialization (ISI) and a strong role for the state in the economy, these students remained isolated. But with the increased nationalization of industries under President Eduardo Frei in the 1960s and especially President Salvador Allende in the 1970s, the Chicago boys found the ear of an increasing number of opponents of these administrations. As anger with the Allende regime transformed into a solid plan for a military coup, the Chicago boys began to plan for how the economy of Chile might be transformed once a sympathetic administration was in place, contributing the infamous blueprint for neoliberal reform commonly referred to as el ladrillo (the Brick).

Beyond the phenomenon of ideological transfer, Valdés also examines the role played by Friedman’s Chicago School colleague Theodore Schultz and his contributions to the classical theory of human capital. According to Schultz, vitally important to the development of human resources and their role in the creation of wealth is the provision of education to potential trainees to obtain the future benefit of these trainees’ expertise. Schultz attributed much of the United States’ economic hegemony to a “return on investment” in education. Valdés’s assertion in his book is that the neoliberal economic school at Chicago experienced difficulty attracting the best graduate students in economics and found a solution through its contracts with USAID, which provided among the most talented students from Latin America. In this way, these students constituted a population to whom education could be provided as part of human capital development: “human capital was the banner under which the group of American economists undertook the experiment in Chile.”[3] Over time, this approach to human capital management expanded as private foundations, such as the Rockefeller and Ford Foundations, began to provide additional funding for ideological transfer, particularly in the 1960s under initiatives led by Chicago economics faculty member Arnold Harberger.[4]

As already stated, Valdés’s monograph does not go beyond Pinochet’s seizure of power; as result, there is no extensive analysis of how neoliberalism actually transformed Chile’s economy. In this regard, Eduardo Silva’s The State and Capital in Chile: Business Elites, Technocrats, and Market Economics, published a year after Valdés’s book, offers a fuller picture of the Chilean economy before, during, and after the ascent of the Chicago boys into powerful positions under the Pinochet régime. Silva’s first three chapters, for instance, provide information about the longstanding loci of economic power in Chilean society, the emergence of ISI policies, and the interest groups supporting and opposing them. Subsequently, the book divides the Pinochet period into three distinct subperiods: an initial period, in which neoliberals were kept at arm’s length from the center of political power; a middle period, during which radical neoliberalism was allowed free rein to transform Chile’s economy, including into a major economic crisis in the early 1980s; and a final period, in which the solution of “pragmatic neoliberalism” was found, bringing the economy into recovery and ushering in the country’s transition to democracy, beginning with a 1988 referendum on ending Pinochet’s rule. As a result, Silva is able to tell the story of how the Chicago boys seized control of the Chilean economy despite the initial caution with which the military junta approached economic issues, favoring a more gradual approach to privatizing industry. In Silva’s account, the key role is played by Pinochet himself, who consolidates single-person rule by marginalizing the three other members of the junta. Silva writes, “As Pinochet’s political star rose, the Chicago boys in the government economic advisory teams and ministries began to court him. Pinochet responded to their overtures and promoted them while he demoted or fired the supporters of gradualism.”[5]
            Where the studies by Silva, also a political scientist, and Valdés differ significantly, beyond the matter of the period that each author covers, is in their descriptions of the role played by the United States and international capital in advancing the agenda of the Chicago boys. Valdés is circumspect in addressing the role played by the Chicago boys in the coup against Allende and the extent to which such a role might have been shaped or influenced by the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) or direct collaboration with the Chilean military. He notes disagreement among sources regarding CIA funding for the Chicago boys, concluding that collaboration by certain economists in drafting the Brick “did not require high financing: there were many previous studies that could have provided the basis for the program’s recommendations.”[6] Moreover, Valdés makes only a single mention of the Monday club, the group of businessmen and economists who met on Mondays beginning during the Allende administration to plan post-Allende economic policy. In contrast, Silva treats the Monday club at length, stating bluntly that it was “in contact with military conspirators and first brought the Chicago boys together to prepare a post-coup economic recovery program.”[7] However, Silva’s treatment of the origins of the Chicago boys is rather brief; his primary analysis of the group is limited to their influence once Allende had been overthrown.

            Both Valdés and Silva also demonstrate some political bias. Valdés is the son of a former minister of foreign affairs under Frei, who was also the first president of the senate after the transition to democracy; the author himself served briefly as minister for foreign affairs and then went on to become a prominent Chilean diplomat, serving as ambassador to the United Nations and to the United States under different administrations. As a result, Valdés is perhaps understandably protective of the legacy of the Frei administration and pins much of the blame for the military coup on Allende’s policies, which he assesses as having gone too far. While Silva is more evenhanded when it comes to identifying the sources of anger with democracy in Chile in both the Frei and Allende administrations, he nevertheless assigns blame to Allende for pushing forward with nationalization of industry and rebuffing attempts by the centrist Christian Democrats (who had supported his presidency in the Chilean legislature per the terms of the Chilean constitution in 1970) to mediate compromises with capitalists. Moreover, neither Valdés nor Silva mentions the effects of the Nixon administration’s pressure on Allende’s government and Chile’s economy.[8]

            The next major study in English of neoliberalism in Chile did not appear until 2002 and included parallel studies of neoliberal reforms under military rule in Argentina, Uruguay, Peru, and Brazil. The book, Glen Biglaiser’s Guardians of the Nation? Economists, Generals, and Economic Reform in Latin America (which constituted his dissertation in political science at UCLA), is necessarily limited in the extent to which it treats the subtopics addressed by Silva and Valdés, given its broader scope. Nevertheless, there is some overlap. For instance, Biglaiser dedicates a significant proportion of his work to studying the role played by ideas and professional socialization – concepts that map roughly onto Valdés’s topics of ideological transfer and human capital, respectively. On the former point, Biglaiser argues that “differences in long-standing characteristics of the military and in the kinds of government institutions installed by military leaders shape the appointment of ideational entrepreneurs (namely, economic policy makers.”[9] In application, this principle means that Pinochet, as a leader instituting one-man rule over a relatively unfactionalized military, had a freer hand to appoint to policy positions whomever he saw fit. Thus, Biglaiser’s analysis is more concerned with how ideas are implemented within regimes rather than how they are transferred from elsewhere.

On the latter point of professional socialization, Biglaiser draws a straight line to the role of U.S. training of Latin American economists to the phenomenon: “Based on their similar ideas, these policy makers form a coherent team that not only contributes to a strong commitment to their policy choices but also helps to insulate them from outside pressures.”[10] Clearly both of these subtopics apply to Pinochet’s relationship with the Chicago boys, and Biglaiser demonstrates these links by charting the dictator’s decision making regarding ministerial personnel given the peaks and valleys in the economy under neoliberal management. That said, Biglaiser dedicates a mere six pages to the training and ideological indoctrination of the Chicago boys, and these pages are largely a distillation of Valdés’s account. To his credit, Biglaiser does expand on the role played by Miguel Kast (brother to José Antonio) in human capital development: “As part of the recruitment and indoctrination process, Kast invited his undergraduate economics students to dinners that often lasted well into the evening in order that they might learn and absorb the orthodox ideas he espoused.”[11] However, Biglaiser’s analysis of Chilean economics before, during, and after Pinochet mostly reiterates the points made by Valdés and Silva.

Historical Analyses From the Early 2000s

With the publication two years after Biglaiser’s book of Peter Winn’s edited volume Victims of the Chilean Miracle: Workers and Neoliberalism in the Pinochet Era, 1973–2002, the examination of neoliberalism in Chile moved to a new level. Perhaps in part because the authors in Winn’s collection are historians rather than political scientists, like the first three authors, the focus in these authors’ work largely left behind theoretical emphases on the origins of the Chicago boys and the quantitative results of neoliberalism in Chile in favor of more specific examinations of Chilean economic sectors affected by neoliberalism and more qualitative analyses of sociocultural conflicts before, during, and after the Pinochet dictatorship. As Winn’s title indicates, workers were more often victims than beneficiaries of the so-called Chilean miracle, although he is quick to admonish the reader “that Chilean workers have been victims of Pinochet’s dictatorship and neoliberal policies doesn’t mean that they ceased to resist or that they have had no agency.”[12] Rather, many of the essays emphasize forms of resistance adopted by Chilean workers under authoritarianism, even as neoliberalism under Pinochet established increasingly deep roots.

In a more general essay entitled “The Pinochet Era,” Winn traces the history of Chile from the Allende administration through the early years of the millennium. Most importantly, Winn emphasizes the initial repression of labor under the military junta and the extent to which traditional forms of worker solidarity were undermined and previous leaders replaced by more compliant people. A lull in this oppression ended with Pinochet’s consolidation of power, after which the attempt to destroy organized labor continued apace; according to Winn, this second stage “was the political precondition for Pinochet’s imposition of a rigid neoliberal economic model on the backs of the workers.”[13] That this second stage also coincided with the Chicago boys’ rise to prominence supports Winn’s assertion. Moreover, Winn examines in some detail the interrelationship between authoritarianism and neoliberalism. He notes that Pinochet’s initial claim to legitimacy rested in the need to rescue Chile’s cratering economy under Allende and end socialism; however, with labor largely defeated by the mid-1970s, these earlier threats were neutralized. As a result, Pinochet shifted the basis of his legitimacy from security to economics: “Authoritarian rule became the precondition for economic transformation, with the Chicago Boys themselves affirming that ‘in a democracy we could not have done one-fifth of what we did.’”[14] In this regard, Winn echoes Valdés’s and Biglaiser’s earlier claims about the freedom with which neoliberal changes to economic policy could be implemented in the absence of democracy.

Conversely, Winn pays far greater attention to the role played in Chile’s transformation by international labor and U.S. politics. He notes, for instance, that toleration and even encouragement of Pinochet’s clampdown by the Nixon and Ford administrations were replaced by an administration in Washington hostile to the régime with the election of Jimmy Carter. In addition, Winn emphasizes the anticommunism of the AFL-CIO in its failure to oppose Pinochet’s repression of organized labor, although by the late 1970s, the federation’s patience had worn thin. With Chile’s new export-oriented economy under threat, Pinochet appointed Jose Piñera (brother of post-dictatorship right-wing President Sebastian Piñera as minister of labor, and Piñera implemented the Plan Laboral, which provided the basis for most of the gutting of labor power in Chile in the 1980s. Although the severe economic crisis of the early 1980s cast doubt on radical neoliberal policies, the damage done to labor power remained as the Plan formed the basis for labor relations into the post-dictatorship period. Finally, Winn notes that the Reagan administration, despite being initially quite supportive of Pinochet, pressured the régime in the mid- to late 1980s to transition to democracy, if only to prevent Pinochet from going the way of Nicaragua’s Somoza. That this pressure coincided with the modest economic recovery afforded by the ouster of radical neoliberals in the government in favor of moderates advocating for the return of some state controls offered Pinochet the opportunity to campaign in the 1988 plebiscite as the man who had saved Chile’s economy.

The remainder of “The Pinochet Era” is dedicated to examining the legacies of neoliberalism and authoritarianism into the post-Pinochet era. The data offered here are stark; for instance, Winn reports that Chile was the second most equal country in Latin American in 1972, a year before the coup against Allende, but that by 2002 – more than a decade after the transition to democracy – it was the second most unequal country. Although post-Pinochet administrations sought to alleviate some of the conditions in which the poorest Chileans lived (some 25% of the population in 1988), Winn concludes that the damage done to economic and social equality and to labor power was more or less permanent: “What Pinochet had not succeeded in imposing with state terror, the Concertación [the coalition that won the 1988 plebiscite and controlled the government until 2013] accomplished with its neoliberal democracy.”[15]

If “The Pinochet Era” offers a general overview of the toll taken by neoliberal on Chile, Winn’s other essay in the volume – “’No Miracle for Us’: The Textile Industry in the Pinochet Era, 1973–1998” – focuses on a single industry and its workforce to examine how labor dynamics were permanently altered by neoliberalism, with the effects persisting long after Pinochet was gone. Winn’s narrative begins before the 1973 coup, when textile workers wielded significant political influence and labor power, setting themselves up for severe repression under Pinochet. Here again, Winn’s analysis adopts an approach that includes the role played by the international economy. Privatization of industries under military rule included textiles, and the removal of a prohibitive 100% tariff on textile imports sent the industry into freefall, with some of the greatest resistance to neoliberalism coming from capitalists within the industry, who supported the repression of labor but expected state protection of domestic production. The response of the government, specifically the Chicago boys running the economy by the late 1970s, was dismissive: “Sergio de Castro, the key neoliberal policymaker, told a group of textile entrepreneurs in the late 1970s that there was no rational reason for a textile industry to exist in Chile. Two decades later, few textile mills remained.”[16]

Nevertheless, with the financial crisis of the early 1980s, textile workers did recover some power. Some concerns that had been privatized were eventually renationalized by the régime in an attempt to stanch the flow of lost jobs and prevent further deterioration of economic conditions. However, the persistence of the neoliberal model into the post-Pinochet period assured that the deeper economic and structural changes wrought by neoliberalism would become permanent. The long-term outcome, as reported by Winn in 2004, was grim. He writes, referring to democratic Chile’s attempt to associate its economic success with that of Singapore, South Korea, and Taiwan, “Neoliberal Chile might style itself a ‘Pacific tiger,’ but where the garment industry was concerned it resembled a Central American sweatshop.”[17] That Winn’s essays in his edited volume all predate the 2007-08 global financial crisis and that, although amended, Chile’s constitution remains the one promulgated in 1980 under Pinochet indicate that the dire economic picture he draws in these chapters only became more serious later in the decade.

Like Winn, Heidi Tinsman analyzes the effects of neoliberalism before, during, and after military rule in her essay “More Than Victims Women: Agricultural Workers and Social Change in Rural Chile.” Among the goals of her essay is to challenge previous assumptions by historians about the effects on Chilean women of neoliberal reform in the agricultural sector. In this regard, her work goes far beyond that of any of the other authors included here in using gender as a lens through which to examine Chilean neoliberalism. (Klubock and Winn both give brief nods to women’s experiences in their essays.) Recalling the title of the edited volume, Tinsman challenges the notion that the oppression exerted by the dictatorship and its neoliberal policies translated into a uniformly disempowering experience. Instead, she writes, “I argue that some gender hierarchies can be softened at the same time that life, as a whole, is experienced by women (and men) as more oppressive.”[18] Tinsman goes on to show that, although it is true that neoliberal policies applied in Chilean agriculture resulted in the economic condition of Chilean women deteriorating substantially, the new role of temporera (temporary worker) foisted upon women by the new economy resulted in greater personal freedom, although this freedom came at the cost of increased domestic disharmony, including an uptick in domestic violence.

            Tinsman identifies multiple areas of positive transformation for women within this broader historical context. Some are counterintuitive; for example, although family planning programs had been provided in Chile since the 1960s, under the dictatorship, use of birth control expanded exponentially, largely as the result of the regime’s attempts to portray Chile as a modern country. In addition, as a result of their proletarianization, women more effectively mobilized under neoliberalism. Whereas under previous governments, women had been largely consigned to the home, their detachment from a purely domestic existence resulted in direct engagement with and challenges to the régime, particularly in collaboration with the Catholic Church, which offered a variety of economic empowerment programs from which women directly benefited. The greater visibility of women at the forefront of protest against Pinochet’s rule extended beyond the transition to democracy. For instance, Tinsman notes how Chile’s major labor organizations now all have women’s departments; organized labor, she writes, is an area in which “the expectations raised by prodemocracy movements of the late 1980s have been most realized and long lasting.”[19] This greater inclusion of women has even extended to indigenous communities, which had experienced some liberation under the Frei and Allende administrations but significant reversals under Pinochet. The indigenous rights and labor movements have broadly collaborated since the transition to democracy, Tinsman reports.

Similar to Winn’s approach in his textile industry essay, Thomas Miller Klubock’s two essays in the edited volume examine in painstaking detail two other significant Chilean industries: copper mining and logging. Before the 1973 coup, copper miners were undoubtedly the most powerful segment of organized labor in Chile, and while, during the economic crisis of the early 1980s, miners were able to win important concessions from both mining companies and the government, the long-term structural damage to miners’ economic situation caused by neoliberalism has persisted into the post-dictatorship period. Here, Klubock’s analysis overlaps substantially with those of Winn and Tinsman in concluding that the long-term consequences of neoliberalism have been profound and disastrous for Chilean workers. As with Tinsman’s agricultural workers, the urbanization of former miners occurred as the result of lost jobs in company towns established around the largest mines, which Klubock describes pointedly: “The atomization of the miners’ community because of political repression under the dictatorship was thus reinforced by the move to the city, miners’ forced entrance into the market economy, and the consumer culture fomented by ‘los Chicago boys.’”[20]

As with the other essays in this volume, Klubock’s analysis includes an analysis of global capitalism and U.S. interests in this essay. In this regard, his inclusion of the unionization of empleados (white-collar workers) during the Allende administration is important. These workers at El Teniente, the largest copper mine in the world, mounted a strike against Allende’s government in 1973, supported by the CIA. As Klubock notes, these events established pre-existing good will between the post-coup junta and these workers. Once in power, the junta replaced the leadership of the Confederación de Trabajadores del Cobre (CTC; Confederation of Copper Workers) – the confederation of copper miners – with a Christian Democrat with ties to the AFL-CIO’s CIA-backed American Institute for Free Labor Development. Collaboration between the regime and the CTC advanced in the initial years of Pinochet’s rule such that the CTC supported the government in a dispute with the United Kingdom over Chile’s human rights record. However, with the ascent of the Chicago boys in the corridors of power, these collaborators were eventually removed, and labor power fell under the heel of neoliberalism. Remarkably, copper miners were able to re-establish collective bargaining rights during the period of radical neoliberalism, but the Plan Laboral largely rendered the process impotent. Klubock notably links the decline of mining labor in Chile to similar trends in the United States as labor was attacked by the Reagan administration. In addition, the privatization of the mines under Pinochet, which reversed one of the most consequential trends in nationalization under Allende, further submitted the fate of Chilean copper miners to international interests. Klubock notes that, in 1994, privately owned mines provided nearly half of Chile’s copper. Under policies initiated by the Chicago boys, copper mines received 60% of the direct foreign investment in Chile.

Equally linked to global capitalism, although less tied to U.S. geopolitical interests, is the logging industry in Chile. In Klubock’s other essay “Labor, Land, and Environmental Change in the Forestry Sector in Chile, 1973–1998,” he once more identifies a familiar narrative for a specific sector of the economy. Klubock sets out by challenging the notion that neoliberalism was a major factor in Chile’s forestry industries under Pinochet. Rather, he argues that the economic growth seen in the sector could be attributed to statist policies in place since the 1940s. Nevertheless, labor relations in the industry were transformed under neoliberalism, with workers in the forestry sector having a tradition of labor radicalism that intensified under Allende; this tradition was rooted in the particularly quasi-feudal nature of land ownership and work until the 1970s. The transformation under Pinochet involved the process of privatizing previously nationalized logging camps; however, rather than allowing the market to set the prices, these forests were often sold at below market prices to interests close to the regime. In addition, the forestry sector was transformed to become a net exporter of unprocessed tree products: from zero in the first full year of the dictatorship to nearly three million cubic meters the year of the plebiscite on democracy. Despite these trends linked to economic growth, forest workers, like the temporeras in Tinsman’s essay, lost job security at the same time that their weekly work hours increased. Like the copper miners, the loggers challenged the regime’s changes to their industry, but also like the miners, few concessions were made. And again like the temporeras, the longer-term results of these changes included destruction of the traditional family unit, even as the régime gave lip service to traditional values.

Unique in this essay is Klubock’s discussion of the environmental degradation brought by the Pinochet regime’s changes to the forestry sector. Noting the decisions made by the new owners of Chile’s forests, Klubock writes, “In effect, it was cheaper to exchange natural environments, the forest and natural resources of Chile, for imported forests, technologies, and forms of exploitation than to develop a forestry industry based on the sustainable exploitation

of Chile’s native forests.”[21] Chief among the cheaper alternatives pursued under Pinochet was the introduction of pine trees to the forests, which allowed for a shorter time between planting and harvesting. The massive implantation of pine trees early in the years of the dictatorship allowed for claims of widespread reforestation, which were false given that the majority of trees in Chile’s forests were less than ten years old. In addition, Klubock includes a discussion of the ecological consequences of the transformation of the forestry industry. Not only was the fragile ecosystem of Chile’s forests disrupted, perhaps permanently, by the introduction of what amounted to an invasive species, but the changes caused by this introduction had similarly transformed even the insect species found there. Klubock writes, “In 1953 there were eight known insects associated with pine plantations in Chile. By the 1990s over 50 species of insects fed on pine trees and posed a serious threat to their fragile ecosystems.”[22] By including information like this, Klubock takes the analysis of the consequences of Chilean neoliberalism a step further than any of the other authors included here, showing that any government that reverses neoliberalism will need to solve problems that go far beyond economic concerns.

Conclusion

Since 2004, when Winn’s edited volume was published, scholarship has continued on neoliberalism in Chile. Although Winn has retired and Valdés eschewed academia for a career in politics, the other authors included in this essay have remained active on the topic of Latin American political economy. Biglaiser coauthored a 2012 study of direct foreign investment. The following year, Silva published a monograph on transnational activism. Closer to the topic here, Klubock’s La Frontera, which expands on his essay on the forestry industry in Winn’s edited volume, appeared in 2014, as did Tinsman’s Buying Into the Regime: Grapes and Consumption in Cold War Chile and the United States. Perhaps more importantly, substantial critiques of neoliberalism have appeared in multiple disciplines analyzing a number of specific examples. Whether the end of neoliberalism in Chile lies in the immediate future will rely to a large extent on the step taken by Chilean voters in a few days. If the voters choose an end to neoliberalism, the works examined here assure us that the process of undoing its effects will be long and difficult.


[1] Oddly, the Cambridge University Press edition of the monograph is copyrighted 1995, while the date of submission for the dissertation is November 1996. In addition, a Spanish-language work by Valdés, Le Escuela de Chicago: Operación Chile, which clearly covers the same topic and which is broadly cited in the literature on the Chicago boys, was published even earlier, in 1989.

[2] Juan Gabriel Valdés, Pinochet’s Economists: The Chicago School of Economics in Chile (New York: Cambridge UP, 1995), 50.

[3] Valdés, Pinochet’s Economists, 98.

[4] Please note that this paragraph is taken from the book review I wrote for this course.

[5] Eduardo Silva, The State and Capital in Chile: Business Elites, Technocrats, and Market Economics (New York: Routledge, 1996), 109.

[6] Valdés, Pinochet’s Economists, 251; this sentence is also taken from my review of Pinochet’s Economists.

[7] Silva, State and Capital, 45-47.

[8] See, e.g., Paul E. Sigmund, “The ‘Invisible Blockade’ and the Overthrow of Allende,” Foreign Affairs, 52, no. 2 (1974): 322-340.

[9] Glen Biglaiser, Guardians of the Nation? Economists, Generals, and Economic Reform in Latin America (South Bend, Ind.: University of Notre Dame Press, 2002.

[10] Biglaiser, Guardians, 17.

[11] Biglaiser, Guardians, 101.

[12] Peter Winn, “Introduction,” in Victims of the Chilean Miracle: Workers and Neoliberalism in the Pinochet Era, 1973–2002, edited by Peter Winn (Durham, N.C.: Duke UP, 2004), 11.

[13] Peter Winn, “The Pinochet Era,” in Victims of the Chilean Miracle: Workers and Neoliberalism in the Pinochet Era, 1973–2002, edited by Peter Winn (Durham, N.C.: Duke UP, 2004), 24.

[14] Winn, “The Pinochet Era,” 28.

              [15] Winn, “The Pinochet Era,” 60.

[16] Peter Winn, “’No Miracle for Us’: The Textile Industry in the Pinochet Era, 1973–1998,” in Victims of the Chilean Miracle: Workers and Neoliberalism in the Pinochet Era, 1973–2002, edited by Peter Winn (Durham, N.C.: Duke UP, 2004), 128.

[17] Winn, “’No Miracle for Us,’” 152.

[18] Heidi Tinsman, “More Than Victims Women: Agricultural Workers and Social Change in Rural Chile,” in Victims of the Chilean Miracle: Workers and Neoliberalism in the Pinochet Era, 1973–2002, edited by Peter Winn (Durham, N.C.: Duke UP, 2004), 266; emphasis in original.

[19] Tinsman, “More Than Victims Women,” 284.

[20] Thomas Miller Klubock, “Class, Community, and Neoliberalism in Chile: Copper Workers and the Labor Movement During the Military Dictatorship and the Restoration of Democracy,” in Victims of the Chilean Miracle: Workers and Neoliberalism in the Pinochet Era, 1973–2002, edited by Peter Winn (Durham, N.C.: Duke UP, 2004), 250.

[21] Thomas Miller Klubock, “Labor, Land, and Environmental Change in the Forestry Sector in Chile, 1973–1998,” in Victims of the Chilean Miracle: Workers and Neoliberalism in the Pinochet Era, 1973–2002, edited by Peter Winn (Durham, N.C.: Duke UP, 2004), 363.

[22] Klubock, “Labor, Land, and Environmental Change,” 356.

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