During and after the First World War, the United States provided very substantial amounts of humanitarian and economic aid to war-torn Europe. All compassion aside, international historians have long recognised the strategic and social expectations attached to such foreign aid. US generosity was to build trust, reverence and influence abroad and, by inspiring ‘gratitude’ among recipients, to translate into a foreign policy advantage. But what happened when these expectations were disappointed? This article looks at transatlantic relations after the First World War to explore the role of gratitude in interwar international politics. It shows just how difficult it often was for Europeans to be appropriately ‘grateful’ and how emotionally the US public could react to such displays of perceived ‘ingratitude’. US aid – and the expectations and obligations that came with it – could excite distrust and resentment on both sides of the Atlantic.

Drawing on corporate and business association archives, this contribution investigates how Swiss multinational enterprises from the pharmaceutical industry (Ciba, Geigy, Hoffmann-La Roche, Sandoz) navigated governments’ interventions in France to preserve their profitability. Our analysis shows how diplomatic talks were crucial for Swiss firms having to cope with rising inflation and the freezing of drug prices, as well as increased customs controls targeting multinationals’ transfer prices. In particular, promises of future R&D were used as a tool in negotiations, and secrecy about prices and profits formation was key in maintaining pressure on the French government. The article also highlights that from the mid-1980s onwards, pharmaceutical multinationals promoted the creation of the Single Market, since it had the potential to enforce supranational rulings over national discretionary pricing policies.

The dividing line between work and non-work structures all contemporary European societies. Decisions on what work is done, by whom, at what price, and under which conditions, shape individual lives and underpin economic, political and social institutions through the production of wealth and inequality. If the dualism of work and non-work invests activities and interaction with meaning and value, producing cultural and social status along the way, it is historically highly contingent. Neither ‘work’ nor ‘non-work’ means the same thing across time and space. Yet, while dialectically dependent on one another, non-work has received far less attention by contemporary historians, who have by and large followed a pattern of identifying work with labour, whether in capitalist or socialist configurations. In contrast, the present forum suggests an integrative perspective in which both the practices and habits of not-working while at work and forms of wageless life beyond unemployment figure prominently.

While the impact of the two world wars and other inter-state conflicts on the history of humanitarianism has been a major area of research for some time now, comparatively little work has been done on the question of how internal wars impacted on the ways in which transnational actors and institutions approached the issue of offering relief to populations caught up in armed conflicts. Through seven articles and a thematic introduction, this collection covers conflicts that occurred in the years 1917–1949 when Europe experienced a remarkable spike in civil war violence, from Russia to Spain, and from Ireland to Greece. Collectively, these articles offer a fresh analysis of the connections between civil wars and the evolution of modern humanitarianism during Europe’s mid-twentieth-century crisis, highlighting transnational connections between humanitarian practices and actors across several conflicts.

The Commission for Relief in Belgium (CRB), established in October 1914 and overseen throughout the war by Herbert Hoover, played a pivotal role in saving millions of Belgians and hundreds of thousands of French from starvation. The proposed article aims to address this gap by examining the phenomenon of an ambivalent, even asymmetrical, diplomacy of gratitude. Herbert Hoover and his Belgian counterpart (and humanitarian rival), the financier Emile Francqui, had initially devised a strategy of remembrance of their wartime collective action, which centred on children, youth and higher education. Nevertheless, while their endeavour to establish a unified Belgian-American foundation ultimately failed due to their diverging postwar agendas, the dominant narrative of US aid encountered mounting opposition within Belgian political and academic circles. In the context of competing national memories and shifting feelings of gratitude, American philanthropy played a seminal role in the co-construction of modern higher education infrastructures in Belgium.

This article proposes a global history of the development of European cooperation in the field of public health from 1945 to the 1960s. It examines the way in which the idea of the decline of Europe fuelled the development of regional cooperation in the public health field. The institutional form and central themes of this cooperation are results of an effort by Western European powers, especially France, to fight their own decline in the face of the threats of decolonisation and of the rise of the US and Soviet superpowers. Geopolitics as well as international institutional competition explains why the Council of Europe decided to focus on ‘lifestyle diseases’ at a time when the WHO was primarily conducting campaigns to eradicate infectious diseases in developing countries.

In 1921 the international Red Cross movement passed a series of resolutions declaring they had a right and duty to intervene in civil wars, ‘social and revolutionary troubles’. This article focuses on the specific historical origins of the resolutions. It argues that these resolutions were a direct response to the Russian Civil War and designed to enable humanitarian interventions against Soviet Russia and other communist revolutionaries. The ICRC followed through on these intentions with robust efforts to access political prisoners in Soviet Russia. However, other parties embraced these resolutions and applied them to nationalist and anti-colonial struggles, such as the Third Silesian Uprising, Irish Civil War and Rif War. These conflicts did not fit the template of the Russian Civil War, leading to reluctant, cautious and often ineffective interventions by the ICRC. The open-ended language of the resolutions hid a much more direct historical context that restricted its viable application.

This article focuses on the writings of female Icelandic socialist intellectuals and activists during the twentieth century and analyses how they perceived of time spent on work dedicated to the socialist education of the Icelandic working class. It will neither try to evaluate the impact of intellectuals’ work, nor will it attempt to deconstruct the class dichotomy and power structures inherent in intellectuals advocating on behalf of workers. Instead, the focus here is on intellectual women's conceptualisation of time devoted to advocacy, broadly defined, in light of their gender, authority, and privilege. In Iceland, as in many other places, writers and intellectuals were at the forefront of the ideological battle between communism and capitalism that took place during the Cold War. Earlier, in the interwar period, intellectuals also led the way in terms of advocating for Soviet style socialism in Iceland, and they took their role as educators very seriously.

Historians have traditionally studied Spain's transition to democracy (1975–8) through the point of view of its protagonists, especially King Juan Carlos I and Prime Minister Adolfo Suárez. The figure of Miguel Primo de Rivera y Urquijo (1934–2018), who despite being José Antonio's nephew and Franco's protégé defended the Political Reform Act which restored democracy, is one that however has barely received attention from historians. This is mainly due to the lack of sources on him, apart from his memoirs, published in 2002. The unprecedented access to his personal archive reveals that Primo de Rivera had a crucial role in the transition: although apparently an outright Francoist, he dedicated all of his efforts to accomplishing the succession of Juan Carlos and the eventual restoration of democracy. This paper rediscovers his figure, revealing him to be a convinced democrat and a crucial member of the strategy that brought down Francoism.

In West German law, selling sex was held to be legal but ‘immoral’, a definition that prevented its recognition or protection as a profession. Despite this categorisation, however, women (and men) sold sex in streets, bars and backrooms across the country. They developed routines and relationships to manage their trade, while being excluded from many welfare state provisions and targeted by local police, health or welfare departments. Rising prosperity and the loosening of social norms in West Germany between 1949 and 1974 provide the backdrop to an exploration of how older notions of prostitution as ‘work-shy’ were confronted with the changing circumstances of urban commercial sex in this period. The article examines how politicians, police and welfare workers interpreted the continued existence of commercial sex in the context of rising security. It also highlights the disparate working practices of women who sold sex across the period.

This article explores the little-known response of the Irish Save the Children Fund to famine in Soviet Russia and Ukraine from 1921, as well as to hunger in the west of Ireland in 1924–5. Drawing on wide-ranging sources from the Cadbury Research Library, the Women’s Library at LSE and elsewhere, it examines the translation of humanitarian relief into different local, national and transnational contexts. The Volga famine was a seismic moment in inter-war humanitarianism and the initial focus of the newly formed Irish Save the Children Fund, itself formed in the context of war and civil war. Humanitarianism in the new Irish Free State had distinctive gendered, class and religious dynamics, as well as connections to Britain and the Irish diaspora. This article argues that tracing relatively small and largely unexamined organisations like the Irish Save the Children Fund offers new angles into the relationship between humanitarianism, nationhood and social change.

One of the ways in which Wilsonianism permeated Europe during the Great War was through the activities of the Committee on Public Information (CPI). Historians are still discussing the effectiveness of the CPI's propaganda abroad. This article contributes to this debate by focusing on and problematising the case of Italy. The Italian scenario confronted the CPI with a series of challenges that exposed the limits of America's germinal public diplomacy. The author's argument is that, in spite of its numerous attempts, the CPI's activities in Italy resulted in a substantial failure, which was mostly due to an inter-institutional conflict of interests and competences between the CPI and the US embassy in Rome. Such a short-circuit prevented US propagandists from developing a genuine understanding of the Italian public's preferences and resulted in what people in the Peninsula perceived as a general lack of empathy.

The Western European prison reforms of the 1960s and 1970s were based, among other things, on the claim that prison labour should match the conditions of free labour as closely as possible. In reality, prison labour remained forced labour and thus followed its own logic, within which social security and remuneration did not correspond to the free labour market conditions. Prisoners were not and are not workers in the true sense of the word; rather, they oscillate between forced labour and non-work. This article deals with this contradiction, which is still inherent in prison labour in many Western democracies today. Using the example of West Germany, it historicises the relationship between work and punishment behind bars and attempts to show that although the punitive nature of prison work has changed since the late 1960s, it has ultimately never been lost – despite criminal policy objectives to the contrary. It was a normative question of values: how much equality did prisoners deserve?

This article examines the Young Socialists, a left-wing dissident circle of intellectuals from the last Soviet generation, and focuses on their contacts with Solidarność during 1980–81. These dissidents, located in Moscow and Minsk, interpreted the Polish strikes as the possible beginnings of a wider move to socialist reform in the Eastern Bloc. Using oral history and samizdat materials from the Russian and Polish archives and the former archives of Radio Free Europe, the article demonstrates how the Young Socialists’ interactions with Poland developed in the wider context of the transnational history of dissent in the Eastern Bloc at the turn of the 1980s. It argues that a combination of internationalist values and bloc-wide dissident solidarities caused socialist dissidents to view nationalist movements on the Soviet periphery and Eastern Europe as potential drivers of socialist reform on the eve of Perestroika.

This article examines transnational appeals for humanitarian intervention to the League of Nations and the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) in the aftermath of the First World War, focusing on conflicts in Ireland, Montenegro and the Rif (Morocco). It analyses how participants and international organisations strategically framed these conflicts, often shifting between designations of ‘civil war’ and ‘imperial war’ to solicit or deflect intervention on humanitarian grounds. Despite public expectations placed on the ICRC and League both organisations were reluctant to intervene against imperial powers, prioritising maintaining the international order over investigating insurgents’ claims. Though insurgents appealed through the rhetoric of ‘humanity’, this was a selective category, reinforcing existing racial and religious hierarchies in Europe. By analysing these conflicts together this article demonstrates that ‘civil war’ was not a fixed category but a fluid and contested concept, instrumentally deployed in the dialogue between belligerents, international organisations and imperial powers.

This article conceptualises a transatlantic diplomacy of gratitude that developed in the context of the Marshall Plan as a case of emotional diplomacy by focusing on a Dutch commemorative tradition that celebrates the US aid programme. It shows that US Marshall Planners carefully refrained from explicit demands of gratitude and that it was the Dutch government, rather, that initiated a discourse of gratitude for US aid. Through the ways in which they invoked and embodied expressions of gratitude, the Dutch mediated and reframed their country's post-war demotion from a global empire to an aid-dependent country. This case, then, allows us to understand how the Netherlands strategically reconceptualised its position in a post-Second World War power structure dominated by the United States, while demonstrating how the careful navigation of the international emotional landscape played an important but as yet underexplored role in the diplomatic interactions of the post-war years.

Free movement of labour was established as a so-called principle, that is, one of the four fundamental norms governing all community policy, in the Treaties of Rome in 1957. Yet already from this beginning, what was to be understood as labour, and what was not, was up for debate. In due course, judicial disputes would arrive at the European Court of Justice in Luxembourg, most of them related to migration. While claims to social security benefits by Italian miners played the most important part in the first couple of years following the Treaties of Rome, over the course of the decades a vast variety of welfare and social policy issues came to be associated with free movement of labour. As time went on, the trajectory pointed to a broader, both more complex and more flexible understanding of what constituted labour as the number of cases brought to Luxemburg increased that dealt with activities previously not regarded as work. Students and sex workers, unemployed and sick persons were demanding national benefits through European channels, transcending the boundaries of national welfare state systems and helping re-define labour and work in the process. This article will chart this development by studying a sample of cases that arose in Belgium from 1972 to 1988, tracing the social transformations that gave rise to the legal claims and analysing how these were translated into the language of Community law and endorsed or rejected by the Court.

This article contends that the humanitarianism that developed in Europe in the 1930s and 1940s and, in particular, because of the Spanish Civil War, was shaped by a transnational network that was fundamentally female. Within this network, women with diverse political experiences converged; however, suffragism, pacifism and anti-fascism occupied a central place. Humanitarianism became for them a favourable space from which to intervene politically. To demonstrate this, we focus on the CAEERF, an aid organisation formed in 1939 in response to the arrival of Spanish refugees in France. It was created, led by and composed mainly of women from different backgrounds. The first part of this article concerns anti-fascist and humanitarian women’s networks that emerged during the Spanish Civil War. The second traces the journey of the British Quaker Edith Mary Pye, the driving force behind the CAEERF. The third and fourth parts discuss its creation and the work that it carried out on the ground.

The US-American presence in postwar Germany and its role in West Germany's re-education and democratisation have fuelled a discourse of gratitude that has lastingly shaped the transatlantic alliance. German politicians and other policy actors continue to rely on proclamations of ‘thankfulness’ as a means of what Todd Hall has termed ‘emotional diplomacy’. In the process, they affirm a collective memory of the postwar years that emphasises friendship and contains social conflicts, political tensions, and ambivalent affects. They draw on iconic tropes and powerful narratives – ranging from the GI handing out chewing gum to CARE packages and the ‘gift’ of democracy – which have cast German-American relations in terms of generosity, gift-giving, and gratitude. This article traces the roots of this discourse to (the popular memory of) the postwar moment and situates it vis-à-vis the multifaceted affective landscape of early postwar Germany with a specific focus on its gender logics and with an eye to its benefits and the risks it entails.

By analysing new archival evidence, this article reveals how in the late 1980s, the legal principle of subsidiarity came to be seen as a tool for demobilising opposition to further European integration. At the same time, it also became a projection screen for competing visions for Europe's future: while the European Commission saw subsidiarity as an important foundation for a future European federation and the German government as an essential part of a ‘Europe of the regions’, the British government hoped to use it to achieve a renationalisation of the European Community. The French government was much more sceptical towards subsidiarity, pointing to the paradox that subsidiarity actually required a strong central authority to achieve its decentralising ends. The article concludes by arguing that the debate on subsidiarity reveals how ambitious and yet contested European integration had become by the early 1990s.