Differences in natural endowments, in geographical conditions and in per capita income set up an historical bifurcation between northern states, with abundant renewable hydrological resources, and less well-endowed southern states. While the first embraced a model of electricity adding, with the embodiment of this form of energy in capital goods and intermediate goods, the second followed a path of electricity substitution, with mixed strategies of replacing inputs in established sectors of industry, public utilities, transport and private consumption. This article examines the different plans for and achievements of economic nationalism in the twentieth century and its consequences, discussing the possibility of reproducing in Portugal the pattern of the stimulus to industrial manufacturing of cheap electricity.

This article deals with the forms of assistance given to refugees in Italy during the First World War. The entire subject has been neglected because of the dominant myth of a victorious nation. The Italian situation was peculiar because of the high level of migration and the multi-ethnic origin of people in the border areas. By pinpointing the pattern of relocation in Italy during the war this article seeks to explain the policies pursued by the state and by aid agencies, the rationale behind that aid and the continuities and discontinuities in the assistance given to the refugees. Significant political, juridical and social issues evolved around the image of the refugee, including the protection that the state owed to its citizens.

During the twentieth century Armenia and Poland alike were sites of widespread population displacement, which brought into sharp focus arguments about national ‘survival’ advanced by patriotic leaders who found in refugees the embodiment of recurrent national suffering. Population displacement also attracted external support from sympathetic foreigners and from the Armenian and Polish diaspora, who regarded it as an affront to civilisation. Among Armenians a groundswell of support for repatriation gathered momentum after both world wars, because Soviet ‘protection’ offered the most realistic chance for national survival. In contrast many Poles opted not to return to Poland after 1945, regarding the communist takeover as a betrayal of Poland's struggle for independence.

This special issue of Contemporary European History is devoted to the impact of the two world wars on civilian population displacement in Europe. Each contributor has brought fresh material to bear on specific instances of involuntary migration that are either unfamiliar or poorly understood. The contributors seek to establish the origins of population displacement and the assistance provided by governments, non-government organisations and individuals and, where possible, also to reflect on the ways in which displacement was understood both at the time and subsequently.

In the wake of the German invasion of June 1941, sixteen and a half million Soviet citizens were evacuated to the country's interior. Unlike the archetypal European refugee, the Soviet evacuee was displaced but not stateless. This article, based on previously unexamined sources from archives in Russia and Uzbekistan, examines the status of the displaced in a state in which rights were grounded in territory and the lack of fixed residence could have dire implications. More specifically, it focuses on the way in which the evacuee was conceived in relation to the ‘refugee’ and the ‘deportee’.

After the destruction of the Polish state by the invading Nazi and Soviet armies in the autumn of 1939, about 30,000 Polish nationals fled to eastern Lithuania. This article examines the relationship between population displacement and ethnic rivalry in Lithuania at the onset of the Second World War. As ‘war victims’ in need of help and protection, over time these Polish refugees became increasingly ‘ethnicised’, socially differentiated and isolated from Lithuanian society, and vilified as a potential political threat. Furthermore, the official decision to create a legal category of so-called ‘newcomers’ deprived those Poles who had settled in Vilnius between the wars of citizenship and residence rights in Lithuania. This policy inflated the number of ‘refugees’ to more than 100,000. Various other official measures, such as the creation of camps, forced labour schemes, deportations and repatriations, show how the government manipulated the refugee crisis for its own political purposes.

In the wake of the German invasion of Belgium and France in August 1914, four million persons went into exile. While such a displacement of population testified to a dramatic change in the character of war in western Europe, historiography and collective memory alike have so far concurred in marginalising the experience of refugees during the First World War. This article examines their unprecedented encounter with host communities in France and Great Britain. It demonstrates that the refugees' plight reveals the strengths as well as the tensions inherent in the process of social mobilisation that was inseparable from the First World War.

During the First World War the survival of hundreds of thousands of Latvian refugees, dispersed across the Russian Empire, overlapped with issues of identity. Latvians in Siberia and the Far East created a refugee organisation complete with military, diplomatic and cultural programmes for themselves and their homeland. The key players attempted to recreate the same organisational trajectories and outcomes during the Second World War, under very different geopolitical conditions. This article presents new archival research and suggests new interpretations of the dynamic nature of political organisation, refugee experience and identity in Latvia through the first half of the twentieth century.

The history of western Europe and of European integration has been explained primarily with reference to internal political and economic factors, or to its relations with the United States. This article argues that decolonisation and the emergence of the Third World as a political and economic actor had a profound influence on western Europe, mainly contributing to a further weakening of the role of the nation-state. The impact of the Third World was particularly strong in the period from the global revolution of 1968 to the high point of détente in 1975.

This article revisits the motives behind the Czechoslovak scheme ‘Russian Action’, which granted thousands of Russian émigrés residence and financial support in Czechoslovakia during the 1920s and 1930s. In particular, it looks at the efforts to bring to Czechoslovakia Russian civil war refugees living in Constantinople. Historians have conventionally focused on Prague as the home to intellectual and cultural exiles from Russia and have also decreed that the émigré policies of Czechoslovakia were driven principally by the humanitarian concerns of a liberal and democratic government. This article looks, instead, at the regime's deep-seated political motives, in particular its plans for a future, Bolshevik-free Russia, reconstructed under its guiding hand. In so doing, it raises questions about Czechoslovakia's self-image, ideology and place within the international hierarchy.

The Christian Social Union's domination of Bavarian state and society is such that it has justifiably been described as Bavaria's ‘official and hegemonic party’ (Staats- und Hegemonialpartei). However, it is important not to take the CSU's regional identity as an historical given. This article examines how the CSU set about constructing an integral Bavarian (gesamtbayerisch) identity during the 1950s and early 1960s by articulating the diverse historical experiences of the region-state's localities and sub-regions as a common Bavarian heritage. Drawing on articles about Bavarian cities, reports on historical re-enactments and commemorative speeches by party leaders, the article explores the celebration of this heritage in terms of ‘political character’, culture and Christianity.

This article explores what kind of ‘Europe’ was produced in the processes of transnational infrastructure building. It focuses on international organisations dedicated to Europe's infrastructural integration as a promising research site, where infrastructural collaborations (or the lack thereof) were articulated and negotiated. Case studies of the Bureau International des Autoroutes (1931), the Union for the Coordination of Production and Transport of Electricity (1951) and the European Conference of Transport Ministers (1953) explore the challenges of transnational system building. They also suggest that Europe's infrastructural interlacing was a contested process, producing, if successful, multilayered networks in which corporate, national and meso-regional borders remain clearly discernable.

Using a theoretical approach that takes into consideration the options available to small states in international relations as well as those factors that influence foreign policy decision making, this article tests the usefulness of the approach on a specific case study, the so-called Mosul crisis in northern Iraq in 1924–5. From the perspective of the alternatives opened to small states in the international arena in the aftermath of the First World War and on the basis of Sweden's stated foreign policy doctrine, Sweden's actions in the Mosul crisis were understandable and consistent with the basic premises of the suggested theoretical approach.

The reason why a fuller understanding of the significance of the Hitler dictatorship did not emerge in prewar democracies remains a question of enduring historical interest. This article examines the way in which Unilever, one of the earliest multinational corporations, responded to the challenges of political risk posed by the Third Reich, and how aspects of business activity that gave rise to moral issues were weighed against the need to survive commercially. The realisation that Unilever could be seen as an unwitting accomplice in the dictatorship's criminal activities seems to have come late to the company. While corporate culture reflected the values of contemporary society, multinational business was partly responsible for the failure to sound the alarm over the unique dangers inherent in National Socialism.

Vladko Maček (1871–1964) became the leader of the Croatian Peasant Party (HSS) in the Kingdom of Yugoslavia after the assassination of Stjepan Radić (1871–1928). In this capacity, he played a pivotal role in Croatian and Yugoslav politics during the critical years 1928–41, when the clouds of war were gathering over Europe, and during the first phase of World War Two. Today he is best remembered for having negotiated the Cvetković-Maček Sporazum (agreement) in August 1939; the Sporazum created a so-called banovina (province) of Croatia with considerable autonomy, and was intended to contribute to the calming of Serb–Croat frictions in royal Yugoslavia. The Banovina comprised 26.6 per cent of the territory of Yugoslavia and had some 4.4 million inhabitants, 28.6 per cent of the total population of the kingdom.1 However, it lasted only until April 1941, when an Axis invasion resulted in the occupation and partition of Yugoslavia.

The Croat Peasant Party was arguably the most important Croatian political party during the existence of the first Yugoslavia (1918–41). Under the leadership of Vladko Maček (1879–1964), it entered the most difficult period of its history: it was forced to contend with the royal dictatorship (1929–34) of King Aleksandar Karadjordjević, the Great Depression, growing nationality tensions and an increasingly volatile political climate in which the extremes of the right and left, represented in Croatia by the Ustaša and Communist parties respectively, contended for power. This article examines the contentious relationship between Maček's Croat Peasant Party and the fascist Ustaša movement between 1929 and 1941, and assesses Maček's legacy and his place in Croatia's 20th-century political history.

In the years 1936–41, the Croatian Peasant Party, led by Vladko Maček, operated two militias – the Croatian Peasant Defence (HSZ) in the villages and the Croatian Civil Defence in the cities. The HSZ was intended to protect Croatian peasants from attacks by Serb Chetniks as well as by communists, and was thus itself a symptom of the lawlessness prevailing in the interwar Kingdom of Yugoslavia. The HSZ also formed part of Maček's efforts to compete with the fascistic Ustaša movement, an armed organization behind the so-called ‘Velebit uprising’ of 1932.

In summer 1936 Vladko Maček's priorities lay with rebuilding the Croatian Peasant Party after its six years of illegality under King Aleksandar's dictatorship in the Kingdom of Yugoslavia. Yet the Spanish Civil War (1936–39) was to have a polarising and radicalising effect on Croatian society. Both communists and supporters of the fascist Ustaša movement looked to Spain as a model for resolving the ‘Croat question’ at a time when Croats were becoming increasingly frustrated with Maček's passivity. As a propaganda war raged in the press of the radical left and right, the Croatian Peasant Party tried to ignore the conflict. Maček's failure to realise the impact of the war in Spain on the political situation in Croatia is indicative of some of his weaknesses as a leader in difficult times. The Croatian Peasant Party missed the opportunity to take a strong moral stance against fascism during the Spanish conflict, and Maček's fence-sitting from the 1930s onwards permitted the more extreme ideological movements in Croatia to take advantage of the rapidly changing conditions of a Europe engulfed in war.

Archive-based regional studies can contribute much that is new to the economic, political and social history of the Second World War. This paper considers the process of industrial mobilisation in Northern Ireland, a politically divided region which was part of the United Kingdom but which had its own government. It examines the changing administrative framework of war production, the debate on military and industrial conscription, the role of women and the economic implications of geographical remoteness from London. The paper adds to our limited knowledge of regional mobilisation and contributes to a neglected aspect of the history of Northern Ireland.

This article explains the position of Portugal during the first attempt to enlarge the European Economic Community in 1961–3. It first makes clear the motives behind the Portuguese government's policy option in favour of EEC associate membership and future entry. Next, it analyses the attitude of the EEC members and Portugal's EFTA partners to this policy option. The article concludes that such a policy was condemned to failure, due to the authoritarian nature of the Portuguese regime and the country's colonial policy, and that, had the negotiations progressed, Lisbon would probably have had to opt in favour of a provisional agreement.