In the 1970s, the West German extra-parliamentary Left struggled to respond effectively to left-wing terrorism and the state powers mobilised against it. This article argues that a shared conception of counter-violence as legitimate resistance helps explain the Left's ambivalent relationship to political violence and its solidarity with militants. The mounting strain on the projects and protest networks of student rebels, older leftists, anti-nuclear demonstrators and feminist activists, however, provoked debate and, eventually, change. Caught between terrorism and counter-terrorism, leftists revised assumptions upon which their commitment to resistance had rested – and reconceived resistance itself as part of everyday, mainstream politics.

This article introduces the special issue on the new history of European law. Its intention is to provide our audience with the intellectual context that the contributions seek to address and some of the underlying conclusions from the fields of political science and legal scholarship that the archive material synthesised here will recast. Each of the individual contributions will be described and located in the new field of scholarship, and the intentions and current limitations of our findings will be delineated.

Foreign war volunteers are a recurring phenomenon in modern warfare. The Yugoslav Wars (1991–95) saw the participation of foreign fighters on all sides. The article focuses on foreigners who joined the Croatian armed forces (excluding returning Croatian émigrés). It examines where the volunteers came from, what brought them to the Balkans and how they represent and commemorate their wartime experiences. It argues that their participation in the conflict can be understood as part of an individual search for meaning, comradeship and empowerment.

The inter-war period is a forgotten moment in the debate about a European institutional order amongst legal scholars. Although the European Communities established in the 1950s did not derive directly from the institutional schemes of the 1920s, the earlier period played an important role in the building of a specifically European legal doctrine. The failure of the universalist League of Nations led a certain number of international jurists, particularly French ones, to support regional solutions as an alternative. A European legal framework was thus seen as a possible way of adapting international law to meet the goals of peace and stability.

The impact of the Sino-Japanese War on Britain has generally been overshadowed by the impact of the Spanish Civil War, which broke out a year earlier. Indeed, the only book on the subject, Arthur Clegg's Aid China (1989), is subtitled A Memoir of a Forgotten Campaign. Yet, for a few months in the autumn of 1937, these two campaigns achieved a kind of parity in British public perception. British opinion was united in condemnation of the Japanese bombing of Chinese cities, and, at its peak, the ensuing campaign attracted a broader range of supporters than the movement in solidarity with the Spanish Republic. For instance, the Archbishop of Canterbury publicly criticised Japan's actions in a way that would have been unthinkable in the case of Franco's Spain. Moreover, some acts of solidarity with China (such as the refusal by British dockers to load Japanese ships) went beyond what the supporters of the Spanish Republic could hope to achieve. This article makes a comparison of the two campaigns, and examines the interconnections between them. It not only sheds new light on the ‘forgotten’ campaign for China, but also asks why Spain – unlike China – became the ‘Great Cause’ of the later 1930s.

This debate on Timothy Snyder's book Bloodlands (2010) inaugurates a new venture: by bringing scholars together to discuss recent and not so recent books, we aim to contribute to the discussion about ways of writing and thinking about contemporary European history. Here, Mark Mazower (Columbia University), Dan Diner (Hebrew University/Simon-Dubnow-Institute Leipzig), Thomas Kühne (Clark University) and Jörg Baberowski (Humboldt University, Berlin) discuss Timothy Snyder's book Bloodlands. Tim Snyder (Yale University) responds to the comments in a detailed essay.

On the eve of the Second World War Germany dominated the exports and imports of south-eastern Europe. Yet the institutions that supported Germany's trade in the 1930s were formed during the previous decade. This article shows how one institution, the Leipzig trade fair, helped overcome many of the problems that had disrupted German commerce with Yugoslavia after the First World War. During a decade when German firms were only slowly returning to the region, the fair built an extensive trading network in south-eastern Europe that relayed economic news, found agents for German firms, and advertised for German products. By the 1930s the fair's representatives had become the backbone of Germany's trade network in south-eastern Europe.

As the regime collapsed in 1989/90, it became clear that an extreme right movement had already developed in East Germany. Its origins and development have been variously interpreted as, first, an outcome of the conditions the GDR, second, a result of the Wende, the great change, and third, an outcome of the unification process. This article integrates all three interpretations. It shows how a heterogeneous, politically diffuse skinhead milieu arose as the first extreme right cliques began to develop in the GDR; how, at the time of the Wende, it acquired a radically nationalistic political orientation; and how it became part of a pan-German ‘national opposition’ in the reunited Germany.

This article analyses how the seeds for the development of European law from the 1960s onwards were sown in the foundational treaties. It argues that despite the fact that both European treaties embodied a conscious choice by the majority of the governments not to establish the European Communities on a constitutional basis, a small number of politicians and jurists managed nonetheless to insert the potential for the constitutional practice. Following a chronological account of each set of negotiations, the article untangles the complex ideas and decisions, which crafted both the legal shape of the treaties and the jurisdiction of the new European Court of Justice.

In the middle of the twentieth century, state-sponsored mass killing took place in Europe on a scale unknown before or since. Although the figures are contentious, around six million civilians are estimated to have been deliberately killed under Stalin; around eleven million under Hitler (p. xiii). What makes this phenomenon all the more striking is that not only was it severely circumscribed in time – it came to an end by the early 1950s – but it was also highly localised. Eastern Europe – in particular Poland, the Baltic states, Belarus and the Ukraine – was the epicentre, and its inhabitants among the chief victims. It is the story of these lands – the ‘Bloodlands'– that Timothy Snyder, one of our leading historians of eastern Europe, has singled out. If we are to see this extraordinary spate of murderousness as the central event of the century (as Snyder argues), then we need a much clearer view than we presently have of what happened in the Bloodlands. In particular, we need to jettison the view that modern mass murder took place chiefly in concentration camps – much of the killing happened through starvation or the shooting squad – and we need to appreciate the extent to which it happened as a consequence of the intimate relationship between the regimes of Hitler and Stalin. This, in a nutshell, is the rationale for this book.

This article contributes to the literature of occupation, as well as to transnational history, by exploring the social history of the military government in the French Zone of Occupation in West Germany (ZFO). It uses the Zone as a case study to understand the construction of a French community abroad by looking at systems of buying and selling, and asks whether these systems were not in themselves constitutive of the very transformation of members of the military government into a ‘French community’. By investigating the insistence that French customers buy French goods at the économat, the shop restricted to their use, the article claims that gender, family and commercial practice helped to define home for members of the French administration in Germany.

Timothy Snyder's book on the conjoint, albeit opposing synergy between German National Socialism and Soviet Stalinism at the high point of the Second World War, and situated in the context of the East European lands lying between them, is tellingly, in a sense almost emblematically, entitled Bloodlands. The neologism that Snyder coined is a synthetic appellation for the murderous dynamics that unfolded there. Titles generally intend to lead the reader towards the book's core thesis, and this coinage seems, perhaps more than is usual, to be of special importance to the author.

This study analyses the 1953 and 1956 Dutch constitutional reforms ‘towards’ Europe, revealing the complexity and mutuality between national constitutional reform and the development of European integration in the 1950s. It demonstrates that long-standing Dutch traditions of adherence to international law played a formative role in constitutional reform, which itself ultimately facilitated the transformation of European law. Thus, it challenges the understanding of this development of European law as merely a constitutional or administrative process, arguing for the inclusion of national constitutional legal traditions in the writing of the history of European law.

This contribution sheds light on the successful recovery strategies developed by the Italian car industry after the Second World War and in particular the ‘innovation through creative imitation policy’ that characterised its relationship with American producers. This policy was feasible because the Italian car sector, and Fiat in particular, was fairly well prepared to measure itself against the American model and aimed at technology-transfer-based Americanisation in order to make itself competitive in the global market. Mass production adapted to Italian plants and necessities, combined with Italian style and design, was seen as a path towards international relaunch. Fiat's subsequent development of its own technological resources and innovation strategy enabled it to weather the ups and downs of its long-term business history. When in 2009 an alliance with Chrysler was signed, Fiat's technological capabilities in the field of innovative ecological and fuel-saving technology and its long-standing attention to style and interior design were judged important inputs to help the American car-maker (and Fiat itself) to survive in the global market.

The origins of the constitutional practice of European law clearly lie in the two famous rulings of the European Court of Justice (ECJ) Van Gend en Loos (1963) and Costa v. E.N.E.L (1964). Despite this, very little is known for sure about the genesis of the ECJ's interpretation or the dynamics within the Court at the time. Most accounts focus on the role of the ECJ in revolutionising European law. Using recently disclosed archival material, this article traces the role of the Legal Service of the European executive in the development of the constitutional practice. It demonstrates that the Legal Service played a crucial role both in terms of devising the legal philosophy behind the two rulings and in the establishing of a professional and academic field of European law, which would underpin the constitutional practice. At the same time it shows that the ECJ – although it adopted the legal philosophy recommended by the Legal Service – did this in a cautious and restricted manner to minimise national resistance.

Scholarship is not only about gaining new insights or establishing accurate knowledge but also about struggling for political impact and for market shares – shares of public or private funds, of academic jobs, of quotations by peers, and of media performances. Timothy Snyder's Bloodlands fights for recentring contemporary European history.1 No longer, his new book implies, should the centre of that history be Germany, which initiated two world wars and engaged with three genocides; even less should the centre be Western Europe, which historians for long have glorified as the trendsetter of modernity; and the Soviet Union, or Russia, does not qualify as ‘centre’ anyway. Introducing ‘to European history its central event’ (p. 380) means to focus on the eastern territories of Europe, the lands between Germany and Russia, which, according to Snyder, suffered more than any other part from systematic, politically motivated, mass murder in the twentieth century. The superior victimhood of the ‘bloodlands’ is a numerical one. Fourteen million people, Jewish and non-Jewish, in the territories of what is today most of Poland, the Ukraine, Belarus, western Russia, and the Baltic States did not become just casualties of war but victims of deliberate mass murder. Indeed, this is ‘a very large number’ (p. 411), one that stands many comparisons: ten million people perished in Soviet and German concentration camps (as opposed to the Nazi death camps, which were located within the ‘bloodlands’), 165,000 German Jews died during the Holocaust (p. ix), and even the number of war casualties most single countries or territories counted in the Second World War was smaller.

The political and strategic aspects of General de Gaulle's policies, his grandeur rhetoric and his hostility to European integration have between them taken up the attention of historians. It has therefore been overlooked that the 1960s were a period of unprecedented mobilisation by the French state in the promotion of French exports. This policy is not only due to the history of commercial diplomacy. The senior civil servants in charge of this process were interested not only in selling but also in creating a fundamental change to the perception of France by those abroad. It was a keen fight, involving not only official and semi-official bodies, but also private enterprise, who together furthered the neo-corporatist programme of the French state.

The history of Coca-Cola in Denmark in the early post-war years offers a fascinating case for studying the close links between Cold War politics, business interest and cultures of consumption. In the early 1950s, the well-organised Danish beverage industry lobbied effectively to protect their home market against the American soft-drink giant. The result was a special cola tax that made production of cola drinks unprofitable in Denmark. This tax came under growing pressure in the late 1950s and was eventually abandoned in 1959. Resistance to ‘America's advance’ continued after 1959 as the Coca-Cola Company came to face strong competition from the local Jolly Cola brand, produced by exactly the same business interests that had lobbied for the cola tax six years earlier.