Taking the comparison of agricultural and transport policies as an example, this article argues for a new way of writing European integration history. It goes beyond the state-centric confines of the diplomatic history which has dominated the field so far and challenges the teleologies in most accounts. Instead, it argues for the need to take into account long-term perspectives as well as the role of transnational actors with a more contingent narrative. Moreover, it demonstrates that the availability of alternative inter- and transnational regimes can be decisive for the trajectory of integration within EC/EU parameters.

In recent years scholars have devoted a great deal of attention and theorisation to the body in history, looking both at bodies as metaphors and as sites of intervention. These studies have tended to focus on the analysis of bodies in a national context, acting for and acted upon by the state, and similarly the ever-expanding study of masculinity continues to try to define hegemonic masculinities. But what if we direct our gaze to marginal bodies, in this case Blackshirt bodies who act against the state, and a political movement that commits assault on the body politic? This article examines the centrality of the body and distinctive gender codes in the self-representation, the performance and practice, and the culture of Britain's failed fascist movement during the 1930s. The term ‘body fascism’ has taken on different and much diluted meaning in the present day, but in the British Union of Fascists’ construction of the Blackshirted body, in the movement's emphasis on the embodiment of their political religion through sport, physical fitness and public display of offensive and defensive violence, and in their distinctive and racialised bodily aesthetic illustrated in their visual and graphic art production we come to understand Britain's fascist movement as a product of modernity and as one potent expression of the convergence between populist politics and body fixation.

In September 2000, the United Nations (UN) presented the ‘Millennium Development Goals’, a universal political agenda to tackle what it perceived to be the most pressing problems of the coming century. The Millennium Development Goals featured strategies for the fight against extreme poverty, hunger and malnutrition, the improvement of public health, the protection of the environment and the build-up of global developmental structures and partnerships. The achievement of these goals was scheduled, somewhat optimistically, for 2015. The brief time span was intended to illustrate the urgency of the issues and to spur the world into action. Just over a decade after their announcement, and not unexpectedly, the realisation of these goals has proved to be fraught with problems and by now the prospect of their universal achievement has receded into the distant future. Despite huge publicity and public endorsement, the UN's expectations for progress or at least alleviation of major problems are now difficult to maintain as the situation has been exacerbated by global food, economic and financial crises. Comprehensive global success stories, such as the eradication of certain infectious diseases, are rare. As the UN's progress review shows, the close and complex entwinement of these problems within the context of globalisation remains a major challenge.

In ‘Interpretations’ the editors invite scholars to explore and debate central issues or concepts encountered in the study of contemporary European history. Recent sections have dealt with ‘political religion’ (18:4) and political violence (14:1). Here, Andreas Wirsching discusses the changing relationship between labour, consumption and individuality in the twentieth century, Frank Trentmann comments on the difficulties of the term ‘consumer society’, and Andreas Wirsching has provided a final rejoinder.

António de Oliveira Salazar, dictatorial premier of Portugal from 1932 to 1968, like most conservatives of his generation, had opposed Portugal's intervention in the Great War. Once in power, and especially during his time as Minister of War (1936–44), Salazar attempted to wind down the commemoration ceremonies, which centred on 9 April. His failure to do so is very revealing of the difficult relationship between Salazar and the Portuguese army, which was the main beneficiary of these ceremonies, and which saw itself as having a privileged role within Salazar's New State.

This essay deals with the ambiguous and contradictory relationship between labour, consumption and individuality in modern mass culture. This relationship has been conceptualised rather differently in American and European visions of individuality. In recent years, the long-lasting tradition of European (and especially German) scepticism towards the consumer society, which was nourished by conservative, (neo)liberal and Marxist influences, has retreated in favour of a more general acceptance of modern consumerism. While labour has not been replaced as the most important means of economic and cultural participation, the social construction of personal individuality is seen to take place through an ever-increasing multitude of means of consumption. The article analyses this profound process of cultural change and at the same time reflects upon the opportunities and limits of the current scholarly paradigm concerning the consumer society.

This article examines the evolution of Greece's foreign policy from a position of relative detachment to an increasing involvement in international affairs that eventually led to the country's realignment with Britain during the Abyssinian crisis. It is argued that Greece's foreign policy shift was a result of an interplay between a perceived threat of Italian revisionism, Britain's reappearance in the Eastern Mediterranean during the Abyssinian crisis and domestic political dynamics that led to the defeat of Eleftherios Venizelos who favoured a foreign policy detached from combinations of great powers.

Historians of the inter-war period usually view economic nationalism (in the form of protectionism) and internationalism (in the form of free trade policy) as conflicting concepts. This article argues that the transnational networks of sugar interest groups provided a new form of internationalism compatible with the policy of agricultural protectionism. By tracing the origins of the concept of international market intervention, the article also suggests a new perspective on the economic aspects of the League of Nations’ work and offers an insight into early attempts at agricultural Europeanisation.

From the late nineteenth century onwards, the danger of animal diseases crossing national borders became increasingly apparent. The vast increase in the global trade in animals and animal products turned such diseases into a threat to both economic relations and public health, and called for international attention. Governments and groups of transnational experts began to develop cross-border networking strategies to counter the spread of animal diseases. Significant new developments started after the First World War with the establishment of a number of international animal health institutions, along with the Office International des Epizooties in Paris and the Veterinary Subcommittees of the League of Nations. This article traces the work of these two international animal health agencies and the interaction between their role as intergovernmental platforms and their capacity to define their own terms of reference.

Whether in war, occupation or peacekeeping, whenever foreign soldiers are in contact with the local population, and in particular with local women, some of these contacts are intimate. Between 1942 and 1945, US soldiers fathered more than 22,000 children in Britain, and during the first decade of post-war US presence in West Germany more than 37,000 children were fathered by American occupation soldiers. Many of these children were raised in their mothers’ families, not knowing about their biological roots and often suffering stigmatisation and discrimination. The question of how these children were treated is discussed in the context of wider social and political debates about national and individual identity. Furthermore, the effect on the children of living outside the normal boundaries of family and nation is discussed.

Andreas Wirsching has written an ambitious paper about the rise of the ‘consumer society’ in the twentieth century and its implications for historical research. I should say at the outset that I am sympathetic to his warnings against a Whig history. The career of the ‘consumer society’ needs to be historicised. My main problem is that ‘the consumer society’ is used in multiple, slippery ways in this article which moves back and forth between treating it as an ideological construct, an analytical concept and as a material reality of how people live their lives. It sometimes appears as ‘paradigm’, yet at other times it is the real thing, ‘a burgeoning consumer society’.

The failure of the Free Trade Area (FTA), a British ‘Greater Europe’ free-market project, has often been contrasted with the European Economic Community (EEC)'s rapid success. However, this article claims that the EEC's success was neither logical nor automatic. The FTA project was not bound to failure, but could easily have become the principal institution for European co-operation. Moreover, the French leader, Charles de Gaulle, played such a prominent role in the EEC that he could be described as a new ‘Father of Europe’. Without the EEC, France would certainly have been forced to reach agreement on the FTA, but conversely, without de Gaulle, the EEC would probably have been diluted into a larger FTA.

Frank Trentmann is not very happy with my article, for the following three main reasons: First: the term ‘consumer society’ is applied too extensively and is not sufficiently defined. Second, my parameters of space and time are unclear, with the result that I neglect the differences in consumption and ‘consumer society’ in different parts of the world and at different periods. Furthermore, I do not establish a clear chronology with respect to the historical relationship between work and consumption. On this basis, third, Trentmann remains unconvinced by my critical remarks on the problems of individuality, citizenship and the pitfalls of historical teleology.

The economic, political and social imperative of reforming working conditions in agriculture, improving rural living standards and promoting rural development emerged as an international issue in the inter-war years. Despite a growing interest in the history of international organisations, historical research has hitherto made little reference to co-operative efforts and standard-setting in agriculture before the Second World War. This article seeks to fill the gap by examining the process whereby the International Labour Organization (ILO) learned about the specificities of the agricultural sector. It illustrates the ILO's early interest in rural workers and agricultural issues, which it addressed through special committees. Hampered by the challenging diversity of agricultural work and the perceived lack of national organisations and legislation, it was not until the late 1930s that the ILO carried out proper surveys on social issues in agriculture. Set up in the late 1930s, the history of the ILO's Permanent Agricultural Committees illustrates the results of a learning process which eventually positioned the ILO as a focal point of technical expertise, and enabled it to embrace an ever widening and interdisciplinary vision of agricultural labour and labour relations.

This article examines inter-war east-central European cultural diplomacy as played out in one apparently remote locale: the Nationality Rooms of the Cathedral of Learning at the University of Pittsburgh. Here, a local project originally intended to pay homage to the various immigrants of the Steel City was transformed into a transatlantic project in which the Czechoslovak, Hungarian and Romanian governments (among others) each aimed to construct and propagate a national image abroad. A close looks at this particular ‘transnational construction site’ reveals a surprisingly complex entanglement of cultural production, the construction of national identities, and foreign policy. Battles over space and artistic content also lay bare the sense of competition, urgency and anxiety that, this article argues, characterised inter-war cultural diplomacy in east-central Europe.

The Danish integrated rural development project in the Bangladeshi district of Noakhali (1978–92) was in many ways the largest aid project in the history of the Danish aid agency, DANIDA, and was intended to break new ground by reaching the poorest and weakest directly. Despite elaborate planning and a small army of Danish experts, however, the project failed to reach the targeted groups and would ultimately be viewed as a partial fiasco. By analysing the historical context of the project, this article will show how both the project and the problems it encountered were a by-product of the basic principles of the Danish aid policy developed in the 1960s and 1970s: the same factors that produced the high level of Danish aid spending and the will to embrace new agendas in development assistance such as the ‘basic-needs’ approach also created a number of problems with regard to the implementation of Danish policy on the ground.