During the nineteenth century, a growing sense of empathy toward non-human animals emerged within the Habsburg Empire. The new empathy toward animals took organizational form in voluntary associations that attracted men and women in urban settings. In 1852, one of the first such associations was born in the busy port city of Trieste (Trst/Triest), drawing members from the elite. These individuals criticized the animal care practices of the working class and rural population, repeatedly accusing them of “immorality” and even “inhumanity.”

As the article depicts, the guardians of the animal kingdom were not as compassionate as they might appear. In fact, the protectors of animals believed themselves far superior to the proletarians who supposedly whipped their horses. The way the growing bourgeoisie treated their animal friends ultimately served as a tool in the creation of the social distinction between the bourgeoisie on the one hand, and the workers and peasants on the other.

While Trieste’s animal protection society reflected a broader global trend, it also displayed unique characteristics shaped by the city’s distinctive social and cultural dynamics. The article sheds light on how these local traits influenced its development.

The 1677 invasion of Ukraine got the Ottoman Empire embroiled in war with Russia. Scholarship on the 1683 siege of Vienna rarely mentions the Ukrainian campaign although it significantly weakened Ottoman military capacities and may have saved Vienna. This article examines how the Porte’s decision to invade Ukraine came about. The sultan’s grandiose imperial visions and false intelligence of Russian military strength were key factors. Easy victory was expected and the original plan to seize Hungary and Vienna was not given up. Only a catastrophic defeat by the Russians in August 1677 challenged the Porte’s strategic priorities. But Kara Mustafa did not give up his preference for a Hungarian campaign. He promised the Hungarians that the Ottoman army would join the ongoing anti-Habsburg rebellion in spring 1678. Meanwhile he allowed them to attack the Habsburgs with French and Polish support. The analysis draws on German, French, Hungarian, Ukrainian, Russian, and Polish sources; they reveal that the invasion of Ukraine was not planned in advance and greatly contested among Ottoman leaders. The Habsburgs understood the geopolitical significance of the Ukrainian campaign but could not breathe a sigh of relief before the sultan finally declared war against Russia in April 1678.

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.

There are any number of arguments against the idea that it is possible to write the history of Habsburg Jews, or even to locate a common, coherent, Jewish experience in the Habsburg lands. These include the inherent disunity of the empire itself, the geographic dispersion of its Jewish population, and the multiplicity of legal jurisdictions under which Jews lived. This essay nevertheless makes the case for a Habsburg Jewish experience that surpassed differences in geography, legal jurisdiction, local culture. The Habsburg monarchy itself, in its quest for imperial expansion, administrative and legal reform, and social control, had much to do with this process. So, too, did the consolidation of an Ashkenazi rabbinic leadership that was both authoritative and distinctive to Central Europe, and the laying down of an intricate network of cross-regional family and communal ties, which themselves were partly a response to repressive state legislation. Jews in the Habsburg Empire moved about, reassembled and regrouped in ever new ways, while maintaining an overarching structure of human connection.

Though not among the most famous of the Baroque’s architects and builders, the Bregenzerwald Baroque Master Builders, who were heavily involved in the creation of a sacred landscape of churches and monasteries in the wider Lake Constance area, have attracted scholarly attention since the nineteenth century. This article attempts to recontextualize these builders by taking them out of the usual framework proposed by art historians who, not least due to a chance discovery of an important source in the mid-twentieth century, tended to interpret the remote alpine valley of the Bregenzerwald as some kind of “rustic Florence.” Instead, this article rereads these builders in the context of the more mundane social and political realities of the Bregenzerwald. It suggests that in order to better understand this fascinating group of builders and craftsmen, it may be helpful to avoid reconstructing their sociopolitical history from their artistic achievement (How were they able to accomplish this?), and instead to reverse this approach to uncover the sociopolitical structures in which they lived (Who were they before they accomplished this?).

In the years between the turn of the century and the outbreak of World War I, business directories listed four commercial piano storefronts in Kraków and an even more impressive nine in Lwów, though the actual number was even higher. Additionally, each of the cities boasted multiple local piano factories. The presence of these factories and storefronts indicates an established market for the buying and selling of pianos in the two major urban centers of Austrian Galicia in the years prior to the war. While piano advertising continued both during and after the war, this was not necessarily an indicator of a lack of change. The instability and increasing inflation of the period served as a catalyst, forcing some owners to sell their pianos, while other citizens may have had the opportunity to capitalize on the economic situation, buying these status symbols for their households. The persistence of private piano classified advertisements for those hoping to buy and sell pianos throughout the war years was a symptom of social and cultural change within the middle class in urban Galicia. This article situates the dynamics of the region’s persistent piano marketplace alongside contemporary socio-political and economic trends to highlight an important indicator of social mobility amidst the widespread impact of World War I.

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.