This article focuses on two mass spectacles performed in Paris stadiums in 1937, one Catholic and the other Communist, both of which sought to picture the ideal city with the working people at centre stage. By studying these productions in the light of recent research on fascist theatre and politics, and with reference to the debate on ‘modernity’ in interwar France, the article explores the French use of theatre in responding to the aesthetic, political and social challenge of representing the masses. The parallels between these two little-known productions can also be used to illuminate a wider rivalry to orchestrate the masses and to portray them as a united national community.

Marian devotion has long been a central component of Catholic spirituality, in part because the image of the Virgin has been accommodated effectively within so many diverse cultural contexts. In modern Poland, Marianism gained much of its power from the way it linked seemingly contradictory models of femininity together within a national (or even nationalist) worldview. Mary, the Queen of Poland, has been offered to the faithful as a model for conceptualising the feminine within the nation, a model which is flexible enough to endure because it rests on a basic dichotomy: on the one hand, Mary is a powerful, sometimes militant, protector of Poland; on the other, she is an exemplar of feminine domesticity. She provides an image of authority and power which ultimately (perhaps paradoxically) poses little challenge to traditional norms of femininity – indeed, she is frequently called upon to fortify those norms. Marianism thus provides some of the glue that helps hold together two otherwise distinct strains of Polish national thought, one focused on maintaining conservative gender relations and the other on attaining victory in the international realm.

This article analyses the process through which the dangers posed by millions of forced migrants were defused in continental Europe after the Second World War. Drawing on three countries – West Germany, East Germany and Finland – it argues that broad, transnational factors – the cold war, economic growth and accompanying social changes – were crucial in the process. But it also contends that bloc-level and national decisions, particularly those concerning the level of autonomous organisational activity and the degree and type of political and administrative inclusion allowed for the refugees, affected the integration process in significant ways and helped to produce divergent national outcomes.

This article offers an introduction to the essays in the theme issue, an overview of the reasons behind the recent resurgence of interest in transnationalist phenomena and a consideration of what the term means. Its places the topic in the different fields of international, world, regional, local and national history. The essay argues that transnationalism is best understood not as fostering bounded networks, but as creating honeycombs, a structure that sustains and gives shapes to the identities of nation-states, international and local institutions, and particular social and geographic spaces. A honeycomb binds, but it also contains hollowed-out spaces where organisations, individuals and ideas can wither away to be replaced by new groups, people and innovations.

The article uses a range of archival material to commence an investigation into how and with what assumptions Italians lived under a Mussolinian dictatorship which called itself totalitarian. It suggests that ‘revolutionary’ Fascism – what Emilio Gentile and others have seen as a new ‘political religion’ – met with some scepticism in the daily behaviour of many Italians. The family, the locality, the most helpful functioning of patron–client networks, the search for special advantage for oneself and ‘friends’ conditioned Fascist militancy and framed ‘ordinary life’, all the more because the practice of the dictatorship was itself so shot through with contradictions.

Germany's heavy industrial sector played a definitive role from 1870 onwards in the formation and subsequent shaping of the young German national polity. As such it has been identified with the aggressive, imperialistic tendencies that characterised so much of German history between 1870 and 1945. That said, industrial and national interests could diverge markedly, with heavy industry sometimes exhibiting a marked preference for transnational strategies, particularly during 1923 and 1924, when France and Belgium occupied Germany's industrial heartland – the Ruhr District. Resulting efforts to integrate the coal and metallurgical industries of France and Germany anticipated the creation of the European Coal and Steel Community after the Second World War.

After the liberation in 1945, two conflicting narratives of the war experience were formulated. A consensus narrative presented the Danish nation as being united in resistance while a competing narrative, which also stressed the resistance of most Danes, depicted the collaborating Danish establishment as an enemy alongside the Germans. This latter narrative, formulated by members of the resistance movement, was marginalised after the war and the consensus narrative became dominant. The resistance narrative survived, however, and, from the 1960s, it was successfully retold by the left, both to criticise the Danish alliance with the ‘imperialist’ United States, and as an argument against Danish membership of the EC. From the 1980s, the right also used the framework of the resistance narrative in its criticism of Danish asylum legislation. Finally, liberal Prime Minister Anders Fogh Rasmussen started using it as his basic narrative of the war years (partly in order to legitimise his government's decision to join the war against Iraq in 2003). The war years have thus played a central role in Danish political culture since 1945, and in this process the role of historians has been utterly marginal.

This article considers whether the Franco regime pursued a genocidal policy against Republicans after the formal ending of hostilities on 1 April 1939. In post-war Spain, the primary mechanism for punishing Republicans was military tribunals. Francoist military justice was based on the assumption that responsibility for the civil war lay with the Republic: defendants were tried for the crime of ‘military rebellion’. This was, as Ramón Serrano Suñer admitted his memoirs, ‘turning justice on its head’. But although it was extremely harsh, post-war military justice was never exterminatory. The article stresses that the institutionalisation of military justice from 1937, following the arbitrary murders of 1936, contributed to a relative decline in executions. Although the regime's determination to punish Republicans for ‘military rebellion’ inevitably led to the initiation of tens of thousands of post-war military investigations, only a minority of cases ended in execution. This was especially the case from January 1940, when the higher military authorities ended the autonomy of military tribunals over sentencing. This reassertion of central control in January 1940 was part of a wider policy to ease the self-inflicted problem of prison overcrowding; successive parole decrees led to a substantial and permanent decrease in the number of inmates by 1945. Allied victory in the Second World War did not mark the beginning but the end of the process of bringing to a close mass military justice.

This article explores the work of the little-studied Economic and Financial Organisation of the League of Nations. It offers a sustained investigation into how this international organisation operated that assesses the transnational aspects of its work in relation to its inter-governmental responsibilities, and demonstrates the wide-ranging contribution of the organisation's secretariat. The second part of the article establishes the way in which transnationalism enabled the United States, the League's most influential non-member, to play a crucial role in shaping the policy agenda of the League. It also shows how a growing sense of frustration in its work prompted EFO to attempt to free itself from inter-governmental oversight and become an independent organisation to promote economic and financial co-operation in 1940 – a full four years before the creation of the Bretton Woods agreements.

Using the fine arts exhibition of the Venice Biennale as a case study, this article considers the role of the Italian national government's cultural policy in pursuing its key domestic and foreign concerns between 1948 and 1958. These were, respectively, suppressing communism at home, and promoting Western European unification and Italy's role within it. By scrutinising their involvement at the Biennale, it aims to show the importance placed not only by the Italian Christian Democrats but also by their European counterparts on constructing the idea of a culturally integrated Western Europe as a vital complement to analogous economic and political initiatives.

This article examines the life and times of Richard Scheringer, an army officer and supporter of Adolf Hitler who became famous during the early 1930s for his high-profile conversion to communism. Known in the closing years of the Weimar Republic as a point-man for Communist efforts to win support from the radical right, Scheringer survived the Third Reich to become a leading figure in the postwar Communist Party. His well-documented but little-studied career, bridging critical caesurae of modern Germany history, highlights the unique political constellation of the interwar period, demonstrating fundamental continuities in the relationship of German communism to the nation before and after 1945.

Scholarly research to date has analysed the Cyprus issue from the perspective of Greek–Turkish relations, suggesting that the United States was attempting to strike a balance between them in order to safeguard the cohesion of NATO's southern flank during the cold war. This article, without undermining the validity of previous historical findings on the issue, nevertheless constitutes an attempt to move towards a differing research agenda: it locates Cyprus in the Middle Eastern theatre and suggests that the Yom Kippur war of October 1973 may have more linkages to the Cyprus crisis of summer 1974 than one may at first sight discern.

The aim of this case study of the two Antalls, father and son (the latter became the first Hungarian prime minister after the free elections in 1990) is to present and analyse the period that coincided with the post-1956 development of the Kádár system. Its apparent success, efficiency and partial, surrogate, legitimacy has often been explained by the so-called ‘compromise’ of the Kádárist leadership with Hungarian society after 1956, particularly the ‘old intelligentsia’ or ‘old middle classes’. In fact, while there was an obvious continuity in institutions and ideology between the classic Stalinist regime and that of Kádár, the societal and political practice of the system gradually changed. The Antalls were representative of the inter-war upper middle class (the father) and the participants in the 1956 revolution (the son). Discrimination according to their social background, prevalent in the early 1950s, diminished at the turn of the 1960s, so that someone descended from the former Christian middle class, like the younger József Antall, could be recruited into the intelligentsia.

This article details the year 1989 in the East German District Perleberg up to the fall of the Wall as reflected in the documents of the Ministry for State Security – the Stasi. It seeks to introduce empirical evidence on the course of the revolution in the towns of East Germany, an area which has received much less scholarly attention than larger centres. The article argues that in this particular outlying district, the generally accepted key factors behind the revolution (regime implosion, the changing international situation and popular pressure) are valid, but would best be weighted away from the changing international situation to the advantage of the other two. Furthermore, the evidence from District Perleberg suggests that pervasive state control, rather than accommodation and limited spheres for manoeuvre, was the dominant feature in 1989 in East Germany

The pursuit of disarmament was central to the work of the League of Nations throughout its existence, but it was a relatively small and consistent set of national representatives who sat on the many bodies created to deal with the issue. Unfortunately, the gradual development of a sense of ‘transnational’ community among these delegates was never able to overcome the more powerful imperatives of national self-interest. Disarmament was always tied too closely to the issue of security for the individual governments of the major powers to view it from anything other than a strictly national strategic perspective.

This article seeks to explain the emergence of the CAP between 1958 and 1968. It draws attention to four particular political factors that made the policy’s birth possible, despite the vagueness of the Treaty of Rome commitment to an agricultural policy and the unpromising precedents of earlier attempts to integrate Europe’s agriculture. These were the strength of the coalition pushing for the CAP’s emergence (primarily composed of France, the Netherlands and the European Commission), the weakness and inconsistencies of their opponents (Germany and Italy), the favourable international context, and the incremental nature of the policy’s development. The article further argues that the complexity of the bargaining over the farm support policy, and the manner in which CAP discussions often became entwined with other seemingly unrelated aspects of EEC decision-making, illustrate how even the early Community of the 1960s was sufficiently complex to require a radical change of approach from those who wish to study its historical development.