Slammed by the Great Depression, Austria was such a mess that Engelbert Dollfuss, of the Christian Socialist Party, easily stepped in as dictator. He shut down parliament, banned other parties, and doled out death sentences to political enemies. Tens of thousands fled and a brief civil war ensued, but Dollfuss remained in control. The chancellor had no desire to bond with Germany; he banned the Nazi Party. Nazis retaliated with terrorist bombings. In 1934, they took more drastic means. Nazis dressed as police entered the chancellery and fatally shot the chancellor, then seized Vienna’s radio station and announced that he had resigned. Nazis were ousted after a few days, but some Austrians longed to join up with Germany. While Hitler was obviously anti-Semitic, so were some in Austria. Anti-Semitism was a platform of the Christian Socialist Party, and Vienna’s mayor Karl Lüger had condemned Jews since entering office a decade before.
Hitler, shunned as a youth by Austria’s art world, had long dreamed of annexing his homeland. Austria had gold, oil, minerals, and labor—and even though Anschluss was opposed by her leaders and by most intellectuals, Austrians didn’t have much say in the matter. Chancellor Schuschnigg tried to avoid the annexation Hitler had in mind by scheduling a referendum for March 13, 1938. The choice before Austrians was whether or not Austria should remain an independent country. At the news, Hitler forced Schuschnigg to resign and sent Nazi troops into Austria the day before the vote. They were greeted by new Nazi chancellor Artur von Seyss-Inquart—put into office by Hitler—who invited Germany to annex Austria.
Some Austrians fled immediately and some killed themselves, but tens of thousands cheered Hitler as he entered Vienna and greeted his countrymen. He would later say that in Austria “there met me such a stream of love as I have never experienced.”13
Austria had a new name—Ostmark—only one party (the Nazis), and a new leader in the wings. The Nazis held a vote on whether Austrians accepted Anschluss and Hitler, and thanks to vote-rigging and threats, 99.7 percent supposedly gave annexation a green light.
The Habsburgs were among those who opposed Anschluss, but they had little say, having been stripped of their power in 1919. The UK, France, and the U.S. barely let out a peep. Only Mexico formally opposed the annexation, writing to the League of Nations in March 1938, warning that if the Great Powers didn’t act to prevent Anschluss, “the world will regrettably sooner or later be engulfed by a catastrophe far greater.”14 Mexico was ignored.
Resistance movements sprang up immediately, and some 75,000 Austrian politicians and influential people were rounded up in the first few weeks. Among those sent to concentration camps: the chancellor, the mayor of Vienna, and assorted Habsburgs, including the two sons of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. But most severely targeted were Jews, who were soon stripped of almost everything, including the rights to hold property and work. Almost two-thirds of the 220,000 Jews in Austria quickly fled,15 although they often had to pay fees upward of $100,000 to get out, and any property they sold went for a pittance.
MAUTHAUSEN
Hitler decided to renovate his hometown of Linz—and the granite quarry outside Mauthausen held the materials for his beautification plan. The Nazis bought the quarry weeks after moving in, and soon thereafter the first prisoners arrived from Dachau to build the mother camp of Austria. A grade three facility, it was where prisoners whose status was Rückkehr unerwünscht—return not desired—were sent for “extermination by work.” Laborers were split into two groups: those who picked out granite with crude tools, and those who hauled the slabs up 189 precarious stairs, from which untold thousands fell. Mauthausen, like Auschwitz, became notorious: limb-eating Alsatian dogs were let loose on the quarry stairs; Dr. Krebsbach experimented with vaccines and lice; twisted SS guards dressed as damsels hacked up hundreds of workers with picks; weak prisoners were forced to run with enormous rocks tied to their backs until they collapsed from exhaustion and were shot for “attempting to escape.” Over 100,000 died in Mauthausen.16 When Americans neared the facility in May 1945, the Nazis gave orders to kill the remaining inmates in explosions of the quarries; however, 2,000 survived. Among them: Simon Wiesenthal, who would go on to be one of the great Nazi hunters.
“Austrians like to believe Beethoven was an Austrian and Hitler was a German.”—German saying
How many Austrians willingly complied is up for debate, but there’s little question that Austria was a vital cog in the Nazi machine; her factories, manned by slave laborers, churned out ball bearings and explosives, and her camps were some of the regime’s most horrific. Allied bombing of Austria began in April 1945, and the Soviets marched into Vienna that month. After the war, the city was divided into quadrants Berlin-style, with the UK, France, the U.S., and USSR each taking a corner of the city and keeping them very much separate from one another. During that period, Viennese heard different versions of any event, and lacked even a shared newspaper. At least partly due to the Soviets’ determination to drain Austria of her oil resources, Vienna remained occupied until 1955, when the State Treaty was signed, forbidding future unions with Germany, banning return of the Habsburg monarchy, and declaring that Austria would henceforth remain neutral. The Allies pulled out in November, an event celebrated by the reopening of Vienna’s State Opera House, where Beethoven’s Fidelio rang out for the opening night. Austrians, in culture shock, drifted into arias and concertos and denial about what had happened. School-books taught very limited history, and the country hid behind the slogan “Hitler’s first victim.” It was not a perfect fit.
At least 80,000 Austrian Jews and others were shipped off to camps during the war. About 7,000 Jews returned, but most found that their homes were occupied, their businesses had been taken over, their savings were depleted, and their valuables were gone. Allies pressured the Austrian government into giving property back, but many Jews headed directly to Israel. Jews, such as the Rothschilds (who came to collect their stolen art) were coerced into making substantial “donations” to Austrian museums before exporting any of their treasures. In 1999, Austria announced she would begin returning the “donated” art.
RIPPING BACK THE VEIL
Austria had long shirked her part in World War II—and had largely escaped wide-scale restitution of war victims for one reason: back in 1943, the UK, United States, and Soviet Union reversed their former acceptance of the Anschluss, and dubbed Austria “the first victim of Hitlerite aggression.” Never mind that it was largely realpolitik to undo repercussions of the Allies previous acceptance of Anschluss, and to help stir up anti-Hilter rebellions. After the war, Austria gratefully accepted this revision of history and long maintained that only a handful of Austrians collaborated with Nazis. One sign of change in views: in 1998, the government appointed a historical commission to investigate activities and paid compensations, which ultimately concluded that Austrians had been widely involved in the persecution of Jews. In 2001, under pressure from the U.S., the Austrian government issued a statement that “Austrians stand by the onerous heritage of their country” and announced that she would pay an additional $360 million to Austrians living in the U.S.
Austria remains a class-conscious society, one where double standards hold. While every Austrian is entitled to a roof over his head—provided free by the government if need be—that doesn’t apply to immigrants. They don’t qualify for low-income housing, are often overcharged for rent,17 and one in three immigrants lives in substandard housing without running water, a situation found even in Vienna.18
Hot Spots
Vienna: The city split by the Danube still retains her regal air and the nobles rich enough to afford life here in the city, where the opera packs out every night. Headquarters for numerous international bodies including the International Atomic Energy Agency, OPEC, and the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe. Also home to escape tunnels, seen in The Third Man.
Salzburg: In the composer’s birthplace, the hills are alive with the sound of Mozart. Most tourists, however, come to relive The Sound
of Music, which was filmed here. Whatever draws them, almost everyone who sets foot here is charmed by the mountain-hugged town that first grew wealthy from salt mines.
Carinthia: Beautiful, pristine, and dotted with lakes, this southern alpine region holds many Slovenes, having formerly been part of Yugoslavia. It’s now Haider territory, and as governor he keeps refusing to post dual-language signs in German and Slovenian, even though the national government demands it.
Innsbruck: The city’s gorgeous, and researchers at the University of Innsbruck were pioneers in teleportation, beaming ions from one side of the Danube to the other in the closest thing yet to Star Trek’s “beaming up.”
Fucking: The tiny town in Upper Austria has had the name Fucking since the eleventh century, and they ain’t changing it now despite the expense: the sign bearing the town’s name is the most ripped-off sign in Austria.19
The liver: Who knows why, but Austria has the most deaths from chronic viral hepatitis.20
Alpine Jewel Innsbruck
Hotshots
Wolfgang Schüssel: Chancellor, 2000–present. Old Wolfie pulled a slick move to grab the power seat, and some still haven’t forgiven him for it.
Heinz Fischer: President, 2004–present. Former leader of parliament, Fischer has a reputation for being diplomatic and moderate. He’s also fluent in Esperanto, which must come in quite handy.
Hans-Peter Martin: Member of European Parliament, 1999–present. Widely published in Der Spiegel, former journalist Martin also wrote books about globalization (The Global Trap) and pharmaceutical giants (Bitter Pills) before taking on the corruption at the European Parliament.
Theodor (Binyamin Ze’ev) Herzl (1860–1904): Born in Budapest, the journalist, novelist, and playwright came to Vienna at age eighteen. Writing such plays as The Ghetto, about the difficulties Jews faced in European society, Herzl ultimately concluded that Jews are all one people who should have their own state. He proposed the idea to plenty of the day’s powermongers—from Baron Rothschild to German Kaiser Wilhelm—but only the British government took him seriously, offering him an autonomous territory for Jews—in Uganda. That never went anywhere, but his idea for a Jewish state led to the creation of Israel forty-four years after his death.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791): The child prodigy who unchained classical music and gave it wings—best heard in his lively, fancy-fingered piano sonatas—causes inferiority complexes in even the most talented young ‘uns and overachieving men. Composing at age four, Amadeus played minuets at five, had mastered violin and harpsichord the following year, and was writing symphonies and sonatas by nine. Dragged across Europe by Papa starting at age six, the tired lad who traversed the continent by stagecoach paid (and was paid) for his talents, performing upward of six hours a day for Europe’s monarchs and high society; the whole family was often ill, and his mother died during a tour in Paris. His repertoire included three dozen symphonies, twenty-seven piano concertos, seventeen piano sonatas, and six operas (including The Magic Flute and Don Giovanni).21 Europe’s most famous child musician died, then slightly less famous, at age thirty-five.
Whistle-blower Hans-Peter Martin
Gustav Klimt (1862–1918): Nobody made romance prettier than Austrian illustrator Klimt, who came to fame as a mural painter in Viennese theaters. His fluid, gold-infused style, best captured in The Kiss, was controversial at the time, and his art was endlessly criticized. Nazis made off with six of his best-known paintings, including The Kiss, now hanging in the Austrian National Art Gallery.
Johann Strauss II (1825–1899): His father was also a composer of waltzes, but nobody made them more famous than Junior, who became known as “The Waltz King” for his dozens of heart-stirring creations that brought waltzing to the ballrooms of Habsburg palaces. Now fiddles in perpetuity as a statue in Stadtpark. (Hear The Blue Danube at www.aboutvienna.org/composers/straussjr.htm)
Russian Mafia: They love it here so much they’ve reportedly made it the place for annual meetings; Vienna is full of bought women they’ve hauled in from the East, whose plight pretty much goes unnoticed.
11. GREECE
(Ellas/Hellas)
Waking Up
FAST FACTS
Country: Hellenic Republic; Ellinski Dhimokratia; Ellas/Hellas
Capital: Athens
Government: Parliamentary republic (monarchy last rejected 1974)
Independence: 1829 (from Ottoman Empire/Turkey)
Population: 10,688,000 (2006 estimate)
Head of State: President Karolos Papoulias (2005)
Head of Government: Prime Minister Konstandinos Karamanlis (2004)
Elections: President elected by parliament, five-year term; prime minister appointed by president, to five-year term
Name of Parliament: Parliament; Vouli ton Ellinon
Ethnicity: 98% Greek; 2% other (officially there is no ethnic breakdown)
Religion: 98% Greek Orthodox; 1.3% Muslim; 0.7% other (including Maronite)
Language: Greek (official) 99%; also English, French
Literacy: 97%
Famous Exports: Democracy, Zorba the Greek, the richest girl in the world, November 17 group
Economic Big Boy: Hellenic Telecom; 2004 total sales: $6.18 billion1
Per Capita GDP: $22,800 (2005 estimate)
Unemployment: 10.1% (Third Quarter 2005, Eurostat figure)
Percentage in Poverty: 21% (according to April 2003 Eurostat report)2
EU Status: Member since 1981
Currency: Euro
Quick Tour
You can see it in the mountain villages cascading white down to the sea and in the medieval monasteries wedged so high in the cliffs that basket and ropes are needed to pull visitors up. You can see it in hilltop ruins and fields of wild flowers thick with chipped statues. You can even taste it on the dinner plate, heaping with the traditional fare of stuffed grape leaves, feta cheese, and garlicky yogurt. You can hear it in the calls from the Greek Orthodox Church to steal back lands that once belong to ancient Greece, and it’s obvious in the frequent run-ins with Turkey: Ellas is deeply lost in her history. The country that curls off the Balkans, breaking into thousands of islands, is obsessed with her spectacular past, and that’s certainly understandable: ancient Greece was arguably the pinnacle of human evolution until (of course) our time. But Greek history is as much a crippling ball and chain as a sparkling crown jewel. The problem is not only that there’s so much to live up to; the problem is there are too many reasons to bear a grudge—as evidenced by Greece’s relationship with Turkey, a hate-a-thon that has gone on for centuries.
EPIC SNARLING
Greece and Turkey’s problems go back to medieval times, but they’ve been really barking at each other since 1829, when Greeks—part of the Ottoman Empire from 1453—declared independence and launched a decade-long war that brought Western Europeans to fight for her freedom. Greece fought against Turkey four more times—once over regaining Crete—and wars have nearly started over oil exploration rights, airspace, Cyprus, escaped war criminals, and even uninhabited rocks in the Aegean. Every so often, however, the two foes show their kinder sides. On August 17, 1999, the ground under Izmit in northwestern Turkey collapsed in a 7.2-magnitude earthquake that killed 17,000 people. First to arrive: Greek doctors and emergency teams, bearing medicine, food, and blankets, and digging out the people who had been their enemies a few hours before. When Greece was shaken by a temblor several weeks later, Turkey returned the favor. Relations between the two countries, if not cuddly, have been warmer ever since—and they’re even trading to the tune of $3 billion a year. Now, instead of trying to block Turkey’s application to join the EU, the Greek government is (theoretically) supporting it, even though two-thirds of Greeks don’t want Turkey in.
It’s not that Greece is no longer great; she just isn’t great like she used to be, exchanging great ideas for great fun somewhere along the way. The birthplace of democracy, individual rights, and freedom of speech is
now best known for ouzo, bouzouki music, line dancing, and plate smashing—certainly festive pursuits, though not nearly as lofty. The sun-bleached villages and blissful islands thick with orchids, herbs, and olive trees are still as fetching as they were when robed thinkers, not camera-toting tourists, ambled over the hills—and the classical architecture, embodied in the Parthenon gazing down over the capital, still inspires awe even if today it is clouded by smog.
With over 14 million visitors a year, tourism contributes over 10 percent to Greece’s GDP.
GOOD PERSPECTIVE: THE ACROPOLIS
Peering over Athens from a rocky promontory stands the most potent symbol of the Greek golden age: the Acropolis (akros= highest, polis= city). Palace, fort, and temple for fifth-century BC Greeks, the site received its most memorable touches under Pericles, who gave it the Parthenon and the curving, columned façade, which looks perfectly straight when viewed from below and has inspired architects all over the world for 2,500 years. The Parthenon was turned into a mosque in the fifteenth century, and was damaged by Venetians in 1687; the only full-size replica stands in Nashville.
Despite clinging to historical relics, Greece fell far astray from the political path paved by her ancestors: for most of the twentieth century, Greek government appeared a mockery of the very ideas put forth by the Ancients. Riots, juntas, rigged voting, civil wars, loss of rights, and dictatorships defined Greece into the 1980s, making her appear more like a struggling South American country during a bumpy patch than the land that was the birthplace of Western civilization.
What Every American Should Know About Europe Page 27
