The contribution that coal miners made to the reconstruction of Europe is hard-wired into popular memory, with widespread tales of the selfless sacrifice that saw miners conduct extra shifts and work longer hours for the nation. This article compares three conflicts that arose when miners were ordered to go the extra mile: the campaign to have miners in the Nord-Pas-de-Calais basin (France) make up public holidays in early 1945, the extension of the Saturday shift in the coal mines of the Ostrava-Karviná basin (Czechoslovakia) in late 1946, and the calls on miners in the Ruhr basin (Germany) to conduct extra shifts to provide the population with coal for the winter of 1946/47. Where trade unionists invoked patriotic sentiments and, when that failed, ethnic resentments to motivate miners to go the extra mile, this article shows that generational conflict between old and young miners was the driving force behind these disputes.

This article explores the specifics of night work under Communist rule and within the state-socialist economy that the Communist Party of Czechoslovakia (KSČ) established after they seized power in 1948. Although the Czechoslovak communists sought to minimise night work, they achieved the opposite effect. One reason for this was the absence of economic reforms. At the turn of the 1950s and 1960s, they were compelled to introduce uniform bonuses for night shifts, leading to their standardisation. However, those targeted by the incentives showed little interest in night shifts; consequently, night shift workers were often drawn from marginalised groups, such as prisoners and women facing financial difficulties. The article delves into their potential motivations for accepting night shifts. Furthermore, despite the Czechoslovak communists’ efforts to differentiate their night shift policy from that of the ‘capitalist’ approach (as embodied by interwar Czechoslovakia), numerous continuities were evident. This article investigates these aspects and seeks to uncover their potential causes.

On 23 September 1920, when the Inter-Allied boundary commission arrived in the town of Gmünd (Cmunt), residents participated in a large demonstration about the small border change set to take place along the Lower Austrian-Bohemian border. While boundary commissions in Europe have historically acted as intermediaries between local and state interests, this article argues that the Inter-Allied commission members departed from this role when they refused to undergo any public consultation or meet with any demonstrators about the border change. Examining the (in)actions of the postwar Inter-Allied and state boundary commission representatives alongside the concerns of the local population in Gmünd reflects how international, state, and local actors all perceived Europe’s boundaries as malleable and negotiable over a year after the signing of the post-World War I (WWI) treaties. The lead-up to and demonstration in Gmünd in September 1920 further nuances the relationships between the Allied Powers, postwar states, and local populations during the boundary-making process in the wake of WWI, illuminating both successful and unsuccessful claim making strategies pursued by state and local actors.

In the first months of the Spanish Civil War, the Spanish doctor Frederic Duran Jordà developed a new method of blood transfusion which overcame the era of direct arm-to-arm transfusions. While Duran was experimenting in Barcelona and the Aragon front, hundreds of foreign doctors came to Spain with the help of internationalist associations and offered their services to the Republican government. The Czechoslovak Dr Karel Holubec entered Spain in May 1937 and practiced in a mobile hospital funded by the Czechoslovak Committee to Aid Democratic Spain, receiving blood from Duran’s laboratory. This article aims to study how Duran and Holubec transferred the method of blood transfusion to Czechoslovakia through interpersonal contact, conferences, and performances. This paper argues that while individual actors played a crucial role in the diffusion of medical practices, this circulation was determined by a unique historical and socio-political framework. The Spanish Civil War, the International Brigades, and the invasion of Czechoslovakia by Nazi Germany were not only the historical context of medical innovation but an integral part of it.

A recurring issue of debate for scholars of Central Europe has been the extent to which analyses of European colonialism apply to Austria-Hungary and its successor states. This article considers this issue in relation to the theologian, archeologist, and scholar of Arabic culture, Alois Musil (1868–1940). Long celebrated in Austria and Czechoslovakia, he has seldom been subject to critical analysis. A loyal Habsburg subject—and confessor to the Empress Zita until 1918—then an enthusiastic promoter of Czechoslovakia and co-founder of the Institute of Oriental Studies in Prague, Musil was a striking example of how individuals in Central Europe adapted to changing political realities. The article focuses in particular on his attitudes to European colonialism. On the one hand, he was critical of British and Italian colonialism, but he worked to further Habsburg imperial interests in the Middle East. When discussing Japanese ambitions in the 1930s, he emphasized the superiority of European colonial rule. He illustrates the complex stance of many Czechs (and other Central Europeans) toward colonialism. They imagined they were innocent of its taint but were in fact enmeshed in it, often endorsing it or acting as agents of the schemes of the European powers.

Recent historical studies on the origins of the postsocialist order in eastern and central Europe have adopted a “long transformation” perspective. They emphasize the importance of state socialist economic and political experts who, as early as the 1970s, began to think in ways that would prove compatible with neoliberal governance after 1989/91. Sharing this interest in longer genealogies of the postsocialist transformation, the present article shifts the focus of attention from the history of expertise to the everyday practices and “work on the self” of members of the urban and educated classes. It presents a microhistorical study of courses for students and white-collar workers that were offered by psychology coach David Gruber from the 1980s in Czechoslovakia and focused on intellectual productivity skills such as speed reading. These courses provide a unique insight into how people worked on themselves to become more effective in order to adapt to the newly emerging postsocialist world. The present article points to hitherto understudied continuities in the understandings and practices of productivity between the socialist and postsocialist periods.

This article deals with the confiscation of property from the German-speaking inhabitants of Czechoslovakia and its redistribution to the new settlers of the Czech borderlands. It shows how the social revolution—that is, the emergence of an egalitarian postwar society—was made possible by the national revolution—that is, the expulsion of the German-speaking inhabitants of Central Europe. Using the example of the industrial center of Liberec in northern Bohemia, the author shows how the Czech administration that was established after the Second World War applied the dichotomy of the Czech–German conflict to an ethnically complex postwar society and how, despite the ideology of distributing property to the “Slavs,” non-Czech minorities were discriminated against with respect to redistribution. Eventually, she analyzes how postwar Czechoslovak society was shaped, with an emphasis on the material demands of workers and collectives, even as individuals sought to achieve a middle-class lifestyle through participation in property distribution.

As a part of the conversation in the forum “Austria and the Czech Republic as Immigration Countries: Transnational Labor Migration in Historical Comparison” this article revisits the history of refugees in the Bohemian Lands and Czechoslovakia, from World War I until the occupation by Nazi Germany in 1939. Taking stock of existing research, it suggests alternative lines of thinking about the management of migrants' labor and contributes to the wider discussion about how to conceptually combine refugee studies and research on labor migration. For analytical purposes, it focuses on three distinct state approaches to managing refugee labor that often existed in parallel: mobilization of refugee labor in a crisis situation, the support of labor as a pathway to future citizenship, and the denial of work as a sign of statelessness. These three approaches show how refugees' work impacted their status, communicated ideas about the future, and reproduced hierarchies defined by ethnicity, class, or political persuasion.

This article introduces the forum on food shortages during the post-Habsburg transition in the Bohemian Lands and Slovenia. Using examples from these regions, it first outlines the food crisis that developed during World War I and contributed to the internal disintegration of the Habsburg Empire. The article then turns to Czechoslovakia and Yugoslavia, successor states which, despite their victorious status and optimistic prospects for the future, had to contend with food shortages that lasted well beyond 1918. Shortages remained one of the main challenges to the consolidation of these newly formed states. Finally, and most importantly, the article provides an overview of the state of the art in Czech, Slovene, and international historiography, identifies gaps in knowledge, and presents our approach to the topic.

The article deals with food profiteering in the Bohemian Lands after the declaration of Czechoslovakia in 1918. The new state faced a disintegrated society in which various units continued to fight each other for an advantage in the food market. While food shortages persisted, the Czechoslovak authorities had to deal with a situation in which food rationing laws had lost some of their power to distinguish between the legal and the criminal. Moreover, collective ideas about what was right and wrong, about the victims and perpetrators of food profiteering, and of whom to punish and how, varied according to the different social and ethnic affiliations of the population. Political instrumentalization of such ideas jeopardized the postwar consolidation based on the promise of a better future. Thus, the introduction of food profiteering courts with lay judges was an attempt to institutionalize conflicts over food profiteering and to reduce the impacts of the atomization of society until the economic situation improved.

This article develops a praxeological perspective on the history of partisanship in Central and Eastern Europe. The author proposes to examine partisanship not as an idea or a concept but as a virtue that was supposed to be forcibly cultivated and practiced in science and scholarship under Soviet domination. The article focuses on the cases of two prominent Marxist philosophers, Arnošt Kolman and Adam Schaff, who became devoted teachers of partisanship in the Soviet Union as well as in their “native” Czechoslovakia and Poland. Later, both were publicly accused of “non-partisanship.” Based on these examples, the author argues that, with the establishment of the socialist regimes, partisanship became a tool of maintaining stability. This implied more autonomy for the scholars and scientists who learned how to use the quasi-moral authority of partisanship to exclude from the “moral consensus” those who, due to their “excessive diligence,” threatened the internal norms and conventions.