During the 1930s the Dutch social democratic party changed into a party which sought to reform rather than to abolish capitalism. This transformation was accompanied by a change in tactics and strategy intended to meet the challenges of economic and political crises. Henceforth, the Sociaal-Democratische Arbeiderspartij tried to establish co-operation with social groupings well beyond its traditional rank and file of industrial labourers. A new generation of voluntarist politicians proposed to adopt the methods of propaganda, and turned for inspiration to activities undertaken by Belgian and German socialists, as well as the world of commercial advertising.

This article examines the use of forced labour in Republican Spain during the civil war. Although much has recently been written on Francoist camps, very little research has been undertaken on their Republican counterparts. As a consequence the significance of Republican camps has not been recognised. Although some historians argue that the Republicans used forced labour only in a desperate attempt to avoid military defeat, this article demonstrates that labour camps were an integral aspect of Republican ‘popular justice’. Work, it was argued, would redeem ‘fascists’ by allowing them to contribute to the economic reconstruction and transformation of Spain.

Political scientists have documented significant variation in political and economic outcomes of the 1989–91 revolutions. Countries bordering on western Europe have become relatively democratic and economically successful, with both democracy and wealth dropping off as one moves east and south. Explanations for this variation and the replication of an older pattern on the Eurasian landmass have moved farther and farther into the past. Yet in moving to the longue durée, more proximate events such as the revolutions of 1989, the demise of communism and even the communist experience itself recede into the background and are themselves accounted for by antecedent conditions. The article discusses how two more proximate factors helped to change older patterns in central and eastern Europe: the impact of communist modernisation and the prospect of European integration.

This article explores communism – including its pre-history and aftermath – as a generational history. The structure is diachronic and largely biographical. Attention is paid to the roles of milieu, the Second World War, generational cleavages and a Hegelian sense of time. Nineteen sixty-eight is a turning point, the moment when Marxism as belief was decoupled from communism as practice. The arrival of Soviet tanks in Prague meant a certain kind of end of European Marxism. It also meant the coming of age of a new generation: those born in the post-war years who were to play a large role in the opposition. The anti-communist opposition was organically connected to Marxism itself: the generation(s) of dissidents active in the 1970s and 1980s should be understood as a further chapter in the generational history of communism. Nineteen eight-nine was another moment of sharp generational rupture. The new post-communist generation, Havel's great hope, possessed the virtue of openness. Openness, however, proved a double-edged sword: as eastern Europe opened to the West, it also opened a Pandora's box. Perhaps today the most poignant generational question brought about by 1989 is not who has the right to claim authorship of the revolution, but rather who was old enough to be held responsible for the choices they made under the communist regime. There remains a division between those who have to account for their actions, and those who do not, between those who proved themselves opportunists, or cowards or heroes – and those who have clean hands by virtue of not having been tested.

This article examines the role of nationalism in the collapse of communism in the late 1980s and early 1990s, arguing that nationalism (both in its presence and its absence, and in the various conflicts and disorders that it unleashed) played an important role in structuring the way in which communism collapsed. Two institutions of international and cultural control in particular – the Warsaw Pact and ethnofederalism – played key roles in determining which communist regimes failed and which survived. The article argues that the collapse of communism was not a series of isolated, individual national stories of resistance but a set of interrelated streams of activity in which action in one context profoundly affected action in other contexts – part of a larger tide of assertions of national sovereignty that swept through the Soviet empire during this period.

NATO enlargement after the cold war contributed to the democratic transformation of post-communist states. It failed, however, to generate a larger consensus on the shared mission and to provide the requisite military capabilities. Today, notwithstanding the rhetoric of unity after the 2008 Bucharest summit, NATO struggles to reconcile the out-of-area experience of the Balkan wars with its post-9/11 tasks and the renewed territorial defense concerns raised by the 2008 Russo-Georgian war. Paradoxically, the more NATO has expanded to foster the military–political security of the new democratic states of eastern and south-eastern Europe, the less it seems capable of dealing with real security threats such as Afghanistan. Facing the possible strategic failure of its ISAF mission, NATO needs to re-evaluate the policy track chosen post-1989.

The events of 1989 had world-shattering revolutionary consequences. They brought about a new vision of the political based upon a rediscovery of democratic participation and civic activism. The upheaval in the east, and primarily in the central, European countries, represented a series of political revolutions that led to the decisive and irreversible transformation of the existing order. When explaining 1989, one needs to focus on three major themes: the deep-seated meanings of the collapse of state socialist regimes in east central Europe, the nature of revolutions at the end of the twentieth century, and the role of critical (public) intellectuals in politics. There is no single factor that explains the collapse of Leninism: economics as much as politics, and culture as much as insoluble social tensions converged in making these regimes irretrievably obsolete. The aftermath of 1989 generated a fluidity of political commitments, allegiances and affiliations that signalled a general crisis of values and authority. There is a need for ‘social glue’ and the existing political formations have failed to imagine such ingredients for the consensus needed in order to generate constitutional patriotism. A fundamental source for reinforcing democracy in east central Europe is the synthesis between the history and the memory of communism with the purpose of achieving moral justice.

Western communists reflected two opposing responses to the final crisis of communism that had matured over time. The French communists represented a conservative response increasingly hostile to Gorbachev's perestroika, while the Italians were supporters of a reformist response in tune with his call for change. Thus Gorbachev was the chief reference, positive or negative, against which Western communists measured their own politics and identity. In 1989 the French aligned with the conservative communist leaderships of eastern Europe, and ended up opposing Gorbachev after the collapse of the Berlin Wall. Accordingly, the PCF became a residual entity of traditional communism. On the other hand, the Italian communists agreed with all Gorbachev's choices, and to some extent they even inspired his radical evolution. But they also shared Gorbachev's illusions, including the idea that the fall of the Berlin Wall would produce a renewal of socialism in Europe. Unlike the PCF, the PCI was able to undertake change in the aftermath of the 1989 revolutions, thus standing as a significant ‘post-communist’ force. However, if conservative communism was destined to become marginal, reform communism also failed in its objective of renewing the Soviet system and the communist political culture

This paper is a frankly subjective effort to return to questions posed about the nature of communist rule and the sudden collapse of communism in the light of the intervening two decades. It asks, first, why feelings of elation about the transformations of 1989 faded relatively quickly, second, why the communist system collapsed so clamorously, and, third, how might we best describe its earlier operation. The paper suggests that there will always be a sense of let-down after intensely hopeful political activity. It endeavours to provide a model of social complexity that communist rule with its Marxist archetypes of social development could not really master. But it also rejects the idea that ‘society’ under communism can be judged autonomously apart from the regime that sustained and structured it. Efforts to do so will trivialise the degrees of repression and surveillance. Finally the paper proposes that the nature of communist rule in the decades after Stalin must be described in terms of a ‘life cycle’ metaphor, such as the idea of ‘late style’ provides for artistic creation. It is fruitless to describe an ideal type of transformative political regime that makes no allowance for change over time. Hence, returning to the first enquiry, the paper argues that efforts to reclaim communal fulfilment will always exist or revive alongside efforts at individual emancipation.

This article focuses on the remembrance of the deportations of Silesians to the Soviet Union in 1945, undertaken in Upper Silesia, Poland, after the collapse of communism. It explores the relationship between local elite-sponsored official remembrance of the deportations and the formation of regional identity in the context of the Upper Silesia's borderland locality and the post-war population movement. The article also investigates the role of public commemorations of the Silesian past in the construction of a Silesian national identity undertaken by the Silesian separatist movement that gained in popularity against the backdrop of the post-1989 de-industrialisation of the region, Poland's most important centre for coal mining industry.

The years from 1928 to 1930 witnessed a bitter struggle for the control of the German National People's Party (DNVP), the bastion of German conservatism in the Weimar Republic. One of the principal protagonists in this conflict was Count Kuno von Westarp, chairman of the DNVP from 1926 to 1928 and of the DNVP delegation to the Reichstag from 1924 to 1929. Westarp struggle with great determination to preserve the unity of the party in the face of a concerted effort from the radical Pan-German nationalists around the newly elected party chairman, film and press magnate Alfred Hugenberg. But Westarp's efforts on behalf of party unity ultimately failed as the moderates who stood on the DNVP's left wing abandoned the party in two secessions, the first in December 1929 and the second in July 1930. In the second of these Westarp himself left the party. In the meantime the DNVP had been transformed from a conservative Sammelpartei into an instrument of the radical right.

This article investigates the origins of modern citizenship in Portugal through the example of the historical construction of housing as a social right. It argues this process owes much to the centralisation and strengthening of the state undertaken by Salazar's ‘New State’ (1933–74), whose transformative project changed the nature of the relationship between the governing and the governed, making political claims based on social rights plausible. The ensuing political dynamic changed the nature of the social contract in Portugal, tying the legitimacy of the state to the provision of social rights, a factor which eventually contributed to the dictatorship's demise.

This article explores why slow and indirect media were regarded as particularly appropriate means in the US public diplomacy efforts towards Norway in the period 1950–65. The article traces how these strategies were carried out in practice by using as examples exchange programmes and the setting up of American Studies in Norway. The Norwegian case is seen in relation to similar efforts elsewhere, and the article discusses whether this case should be seen as a singular one or as a local variation of more general US public diplomacy strategies. In conclusion, it is suggested that the Norwegian case appears to be an almost ideal-typical example of how ‘culturalist’ public diplomacy approaches were mobilised for political purposes.

This article explores the connection between food politics and genocide in the occupied eastern territories. The examination focuses on Herbert Backe, the ‘second man’ in the agricultural administration during the period of Nazi rule. Backe was in charge of food rationing during the war, and was involved in the planning of the economic exploitation of the Soviet Union after the invasion. Under Backe's directive, food policy turned into ‘starvation policy’ for people in the occupied lands of the Soviet Union. The author uses a range of archival sources, including rarely used personal letters and diaries of Backe and his wife, to understand Backe's role and motivations.

In 1939 Francoists won the Spanish Civil War, but continued to prosecute hundreds of thousands from the defeated Republican side in summary military tribunals that imposed either the death sentence or jail terms of up to thirty years. Historians have paid much attention to the outcomes of these trials and stressed the institutional power of the courts within the emerging Francoist state. By contrast, this article, through a study of court documents, examines how the Francoist authorities devolved much of the prosecution process to the municipal level. Here they came to rely on their grass-roots supporters to identify, classify, provide testimony against and convict Republicans.

Burgundians developed new cultural strategies to market their wines during the inter-war years. Regional leaders, cultural intermediaries and the wine industry collaborated to overcome overproduction, prohibition and foreign as well as regional competition by exploiting the concept of terroir to develop a repertoire of popular festivals such as the Gastronomic Fair of Dijon, the Paulée of Meursault, Saint Vincent parades, an annual wine auction at the Hospice in Beaune and a Burgundian Pavilion at the 1937 World's Fair in Paris. These drew attention to the unique qualities of their wines and suggested how they might be best consumed. This aggressive marketing strategy was so successful that it became a model for French agricultural products promoted through the système d'appelation d'origine controlée. The result united natural resources, historical memory, marketing strategies and cultural performance into an imaginative and enduring form of commercial regionalism.

This article contributes to the recent transnational turn in labour history with a case study of West German and British trade union politics at Ford between 1967 and 1973. It demonstrates that international economic interdependence became a major concern for organised labour in both countries because of the emergence in 1967 of the Ford of Europe holding company. Paradoxically, however, this was accompanied by the accentuation of national allegiances and action frameworks, in particular with regard to the framing of labour market interests and industrial relations policies. These processes played out differently in the two countries, not only because national contexts were different but also because the new international challenges interacted with national contexts in specific ways.

Despite its importance, historical scholarship has largely ignored Catholic education as a historical force. This article argues that a closer look at Catholic education in Spain in the first decades of the twentieth century can widen our understanding of educational modernity and at the same time help us to grasp better the specificity and contradictions of religious political mobilisation in Europe. Catholic pedagogues and schools responded to the increasing politicisation of education, the changing demands of upper- and middle-class parents and challenges posed by the new psychological and pedagogical knowledge with fundamental changes in their educational practices. The article identifies the main developments in this contradictory shift, concluding that, first, it is highly misleading simply to identify the ‘new pedagogy’ of the early twentieth century with liberal democracy. This questions a sterile dichotomy of collectivism versus individualism in analysing social movements in the twentieth century. Second, the case study points to both the power and the inherent limits of Catholic mobilisation.

This article examines the complex relationship between Catholics, communists, and democrats in connection with the battle over the nationalisation of Slovakia's schools in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War. While the Catholic Church defended parochial education, at times in ways that the state would not tolerate, the communists championed a state education monopoly, although with some tactical regard for Catholic sensibilities. The democrats used the education issue to curry favour with Catholics, a move that backfired when they were unable to deliver on the hopes that Catholics placed in their party.

Until recently Dutch historiography of the Second World War focused on subjects typical for this period: repression, resistance, the Hunger Winter of 1944–5 and, above all, the Holocaust. If anything was written about the economy, it was about exploitation resulting in impoverishment and hunger. New calculations of macroeconomic statistics for the period 1938–48 show that industrial production did not in fact decline until after the end of 1941, and that the first one and a half years of the occupation were the best in a decade. This article addresses the central question of how the Dutch economy, and especially industry, developed during the German occupation of 1940–5, especially during the first years. The development of employment suggests that economic decline and exploitation do not form the only story to be told about the economy in those years. Nevertheless, in Dutch popular publications, and in the international literature, the opinion still persists that during the occupation the economies of occupied western Europe slumped. Another problem is, therefore, how to explain the positive elements in economic development, and how it is possible that in memories and historiography it took more than fifty years before the traditional story of decline and exploitation as the sole elements of wartime economic development were even questioned.