Dom Sankt Jakob
Domplatz
Worth knowing
The history of the church from which today’s cathedral in the Old Town emerged is older than that of the city itself. When Count Berchtold V acquired the land south of the Inn from the Wilten Abbey in 1180—land on which Innsbruck would later be built—the exchange contract already mentioned a market church. At that time, Innsbruck was not yet an independent parish but merely a branch of Wilten Abbey. There was no talk of a bishop’s seat then. Nevertheless, the church was the center of the developing town, which at that time had neither the Golden Roof nor the Imperial Palace. A cemetery surrounded the church; the last graves were only removed in 1905 with the construction of the sewer system. It was only with the construction of the city tower, the town hall, the Neuhof, and other buildings on the Upper and Lower Town Squares in the late Middle Ages that things changed. In Albrecht Dürer’s famous watercolor, painted during his journey through Innsbruck in 1495, the parish church of St. James appears merely as one of many towers in the cityscape.
The fate of St. James was far from fortunate. The church burned down several times. The earthquake of 1689, which damaged almost all Innsbruck houses, did not spare the cathedral either. In 1724, after a complete redesign in the contemporary Baroque style, the church was consecrated. It was not fitting for a city like Innsbruck to have a half-finished ruin as its showpiece within the city walls. To finance the construction, a special tax on tobacco was introduced, and additional duties were levied. The former Lion House of Ferdinand II on the Inn, which had burned down in 1636, was rebuilt as a brewery and tavern to bring extra coins into the budget through Innsbruck’s thirst for beer. After the unexpected death of Johann Jakob Herkomer, originally intended as the construction manager, Johann Georg Fischer took over the project. A beautiful legend surrounds the large ceiling fresco by Cosmas Damian Asam (1686–1739). When the painter fell from the scaffolding during work, Saint John is said to have stretched out his hand to save the maestro from certain death. After World War I, the newly drawn border at the Brenner made it difficult to administer North and South Tyrol under one diocese. North Tyrol and Vorarlberg needed their own administration. Finally, in 1964, the former small branch of Wilten Abbey became the Cathedral of Innsbruck.
In 1944, like so many other churches, the cathedral was damaged in an air raid. The interior and exterior were quickly renovated in the first post-war years to restore the proper representation of the clerical administrative center of western Austria as soon as possible. The sturdy church towers rise high into the sky, adorned with imposing gargoyles. A rider sits atop the gable above the entrance. The front façade is decorated with statues of various saints, including Saint Notburga, one of Innsbruck’s patron saints, and Saint Romedius, who is said to have ridden from Tyrol to Rome on a bear. Veneration of saints reached its peak in the 17th and 18th centuries. Baroque culture understood the importance of inspiring people for the Roman Church with good stories, the integration of popular legends, and impressive sound. The many bells of St. James remain a spectacle even today. The Marian bell, cast at the traditional Grassmayr foundry in Innsbruck, weighs over seven tons. On special occasions, the cathedral’s bells ring under the expert execution of a dedicated bell ringer. The interior of the cathedral is crowned by a dome above the famous devotional image Mariahilf by Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472–1553). This masterpiece of the Innsbruck Cathedral came as a souvenir under the art-loving provincial prince Leopold V. Since 1650, it has hung on the high altar of the cathedral, with only a brief interruption during wartime. During World War II, the image of the Virgin was taken to the nearby Ötztal to protect it from bombings. Anyone walking attentively through the city will find the Virgin in many house façades or fountains. Even outside Innsbruck, the image is widespread in North and South Tyrol. Alongside the devotional image, a second monument survived the transformation from the old to the new church and was relocated: the tomb of Maximilian III of Austria occupies a significant part of the nave. The kneeling provincial prince of Tyrol is flanked by Saint George, the patron of the Teutonic Order. Archduke Eugen, who served as the supreme military commander of Tyrol in the Austro-Hungarian army during World War I and was also a member of the Teutonic Order, is buried here as well.
Today, the cathedral square is a popular meeting place in the Old Town, just a few steps from the Golden Roof yet slightly away from the tourist crowds. Thanks to several cafés and student apartments in the picturesque houses around the fountain, young people have rediscovered the square in front of the church and brought it back to life.
Baroque: art movement and art of living
Anyone traveling through Austria is familiar with the domes and onion-shaped towers of churches in towns and villages. They are the characteristic hallmark of the Baroque architectural style, which reached its peak during the Counter-Reformation and continues to shape the cityscape of Innsbruck to this day. The most prominent churches—such as the Cathedral, St. John’s Church, or the Jesuit Church—are built in the Baroque style. Places of worship were meant to be splendid and magnificent, symbols of the triumph of the true faith. The exuberant, all-encompassing piety of elites and subjects alike was reflected in art and culture: great drama, pathos, suffering, splendor, and glory combined to form the Baroque—a style that left a lasting imprint on the entire Catholic sphere of influence of the Habsburgs and their allies between Spain and Hungary. From the seventeenth century onward, the Gumpp family of master builders and Johann Georg Fischer fundamentally transformed Innsbruck’s cityscape. The Old Provincial Government Building in the Old Town, the New Provincial Government Building on Maria-Theresien-Strasse, countless palazzi, paintings, and sculptures—the Baroque was the defining stylistic force of the House of Habsburg in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and became embedded in everyday life. The bourgeoisie did not wish to lag behind the nobility and princes and therefore had their private residences built in the Baroque style as well. Farmhouses were adorned with images of saints, depictions of the Virgin Mary, and representations of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
Yet the Baroque was more than an architectural style; it was a way of life that emerged in the aftermath of the Thirty Years’ War. The Ottoman threat from the east, culminating in the two sieges of Vienna, dominated the empire’s foreign policy, while the Reformation shaped domestic affairs. Baroque culture became a central element of Catholicism and its political self-representation in public space—a countermodel to the austere and rigorous way of life advocated by Calvin and Luther. Christian holidays were introduced to brighten everyday life. Architecture, music, and painting were rich, full, and exuberant. In theatres such as the Comedihaus in Innsbruck, dramas with religious themes were performed. Ways of the Cross with chapels and representations of the crucified Christ crisscrossed the landscape. Popular piety, expressed through pilgrimages and the veneration of Mary and the saints, became firmly embedded in everyday church life. Multiple crises shaped daily existence. In addition to war and famine, plague epidemics occurred particularly frequently in the seventeenth century. Baroque piety was used as a means of educating subjects, teaching them to interpret these calamities as expressions of God’s dissatisfaction—misfortunes that could be remedied through a devout and virtuous way of life. Although the sale of indulgences was no longer common practice in the Catholic Church after the sixteenth century, vivid notions of heaven and hell persisted. Through a virtuous life—that is, living in accordance with Catholic values and displaying proper conduct as a subject within the divine order—one could come significantly closer to paradise. So-called Christian devotional literature became the most popular reading material following the educational reforms of the eighteenth century and the rising literacy of the population. The suffering of the Crucified for humanity was regarded as a symbol of the hardship endured by subjects on earth within the feudal system. Through votive paintings, people sought assistance in times of hardship or expressed gratitude—most often to the Virgin Mary—for surviving dangers and illnesses. Particularly impressive votive paintings can be admired in the Wilten Basilica. The historian Ernst Hanisch described the Baroque and its influence on the Austrian way of life as follows:
“Austria emerged in its modern form as a crusading imperialism—externally against the Turks and internally against the Reformers. This brought bureaucracy and the military, and externally a multiethnic society. State and Church attempted to control the intimate sphere of citizens’ lives. Everyone had to reform themselves through the confessional; sexuality was restricted, norm-compliant sexuality enforced. People were systematically trained to dissemble.”
Rituals and submissive behavior toward authority left deep traces in everyday culture, distinguishing Catholic countries such as Austria and Italy to this day from Protestant-influenced regions such as Germany, England, or Scandinavia. Austrians’ passion for academic titles has its roots in Baroque hierarchies. The term Baroque prince refers to a particularly patriarchal and patronizing politician who knows how to captivate an audience with grand gestures. While political sobriety is valued in Germany, the style of Austrian politicians remains theatrical—entirely in keeping with the Austrian adage “Schaumamal” (“let’s see”).
Maria help Innsbruck!
Veneration of saints and popular piety have always walked a narrow line between faith, superstition, and magic. In the Alpine regions, where people were exposed to a largely inexplicable natural environment to a greater extent than in many other areas, these forms of belief developed remarkable and locally distinctive expressions. Saints were invoked for help with a wide range of everyday concerns. Saint Anne was asked to protect the house and hearth, while prayers for a good harvest were addressed to Saint Notburga of Rattenberg, who was particularly popular in Tyrol. As the use of fertilizer and agricultural machinery increased, she later became the patron saint of women wearing traditional costume. Miners entrusted their fate in their dangerous underground work to Saint Barbara and Saint Bernard. The chapel near the manor houses in the Hall Valley (Halltal) close to Innsbruck offers a fascinating insight into a spiritual world that oscillates between the legendary figure of the Bettelwurf spirit and the worship of various local patron saints. The saint who continues to eclipse all others in veneration, however, is Mary. From the blessing of herbs on the Feast of the Assumption to the clockwise-flowing water at the monastery and pilgrimage site of Maria Waldrast at the foot of Mount Serles, and from votive paintings in churches and chapels, she is a constant and beloved presence in popular devotion. Anyone strolling attentively through Innsbruck will repeatedly encounter a particular image on building façades: the Mariahilf devotional image by Lucas Cranach the Elder (c. 1472–1553). Cranach’s Madonna is one of the most popular and frequently copied Marian images in the Alpine region. It represents a reinterpretation of the classical iconography of the Mother of God. Similar to Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, which was created around the same time, Mary smiles enigmatically at the viewer. Cranach dispensed with all traditional forms of sacralization such as the crescent moon or halo and portrayed her in contemporary everyday clothing. The reddish-blond hair of both mother and child relocates them from Palestine to Europe. The holy and virginal Mary thus became an ordinary woman with her child, belonging to the upper middle class of the sixteenth century.
The origin, journey, and veneration of the Mariahilf devotional image encapsulate, on a small scale, the history of the Reformation, the Counter-Reformation, and popular piety in the German territories. The odyssey of this modestly sized painting (measuring just 78 × 47 cm) began in what is today Thuringia, at the princely court of the land, one of the cultural centers of Europe at the time. Elector Frederick III of Saxony (1463–1525) was a deeply devout man and possessed one of the most extensive collections of relics of his era. Despite his profound rootedness in popular belief in relics and his strong devotion to Mary, in 1518 he supported Martin Luther not only for religious reasons but also for reasons of power politics. The safe conduct granted by this powerful territorial prince and Luther’s accommodation at Wartburg Castle enabled the reformer to work on the German translation of the Holy Scriptures and on his vision of a new, reformed Church. As was customary at the time, Frederick also maintained an “art director” in his entourage: Lucas Cranach, who had served as court painter in Wittenberg since 1515. Like many artists of his time, Cranach was not only extraordinarily productive but also highly business‑minded. In addition to his artistic work, he ran both a pharmacy and a wine tavern in Wittenberg. Thanks to his wealth and social standing, he served as mayor of the town from 1528 onward. Cranach was renowned for painting quickly and in large quantities. He recognized art as a medium for capturing and disseminating both time and zeitgeist. Much like Albrecht Dürer, he produced widely circulated works of great popular appeal. His portraits of the contemporary elite continue to shape our image of early modern celebrities such as his patron Frederick, Emperor Maximilian I, Martin Luther, and his fellow artist Dürer.
At the latest through his acquaintance with the church critics Philipp Melanchthon and Martin Luther at Wittenberg Castle, Cranach became a follower of the new reformed Christianity, which at that time still lacked an official institutional form. The ambiguities in religious beliefs and practices during the period before the formal split of the Church are reflected in Cranach’s works. Despite Luther’s and Melanchthon’s rejection of the veneration of saints, Marian devotion, and iconographic imagery in churches, Cranach continued to paint according to the tastes of his patrons. Just as fluid as the confessional boundaries of the sixteenth century is the date of origin of the Mariahilf image. Cranach created it sometime between 1510 and 1537, either for the private household altar of Frederick’s sister‑in‑law, Duchess Barbara of Saxony, or for the Church of the Holy Cross in Dresden. Art historians remain divided on the issue to this day. Cranach’s close friendship with Martin Luther suggests that he may have painted the work after his conversion to Lutheranism, and that this secularized depiction of a mother and child reflects a new religious worldview. Nevertheless, it is equally plausible that the pragmatic artist produced the painting earlier, in accordance with the wishes of the patron and the fashion of the time, entirely without ideological intent and before Luther’s arrival in Wittenberg.
After Frederick’s death, Cranach entered the service of his successor, John Frederick I of Saxony. When his patron was taken captive by the Emperor following the Battle of Mühlberg in 1547, Cranach, despite his advanced age, followed him into captivity as far as Augsburg and Innsbruck. After five years in the retinue of this comparatively luxuriously housed hostage, Cranach returned to Wittenberg, where he died at what was, by contemporary standards, a biblical age. The Mariahilf image was probably transferred to the art chamber of the Saxon ruler during the turbulent years of the confessional wars, likely to protect it from destruction during iconoclastic outbreaks. Almost sixty-five years later, the painting, like its creator before it, would make its way to Innsbruck along circuitous paths. When the art‑loving Bishop of Passau from the House of Habsburg visited the Dresden court in 1611, he selected Cranach’s Mariahilf image as a diplomatic gift and brought it to his princely episcopal residence on the Danube. There, the cathedral dean saw the painting and was so taken with it that he commissioned a copy for his household altar. A pilgrimage cult quickly developed around the image. When, seven years later, the Bishop of Passau became Archduke Leopold V of Austria and sovereign of Tyrol, the increasingly popular painting moved with him to the Innsbruck court. His Tuscan wife, Claudia de’ Medici, diligently sustained Marian devotion in the Italian tradition even after his death. Both the Servite church and the Capuchin monastery received altars and images of the Holy Mother of God. Nonetheless, nothing surpassed the popularity of Cranach’s Mariahilf image. During the Thirty Years’ War, the painting was frequently removed from the court chapel and publicly displayed in order to protect the city. At these mass prayers, the desperate population of Innsbruck loudly implored the small image with the cry “Maria, help!”, a formula that had entered popular devotion through the Jesuits. In 1647, at a moment of greatest peril, the Tyrolean Estates vowed to build a church around the image should Mary’s protection spare the land from devastation by Bavarian and Swedish troops. That a reformed depiction of the Virgin Mary, painted by a friend of Martin Luther, was invoked to protect the city from Protestant forces is not without a certain irony.
Although the Church of Mariahilf was indeed built, the original painting was installed in 1650 in the parish church of St. James (St. Jakob) within the secure city walls, while the new church received a copy created by Michael Waldmann. This was not to be the last of its kind. Cranach’s motif and representation of the Mother of God enjoyed extraordinary popularity and can still be found today not only in churches, but also on countless private houses. Through these reproductions, art became a mass phenomenon. The Marian image had migrated from the private possession of a Saxon prince into public space. Centuries before Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein, Cranach and Dürer had become intensely copied artists, and their works became part of everyday life and the visual fabric of the city. While the original Mariahilf image may hang in St. James’s Cathedral, it is the copy—and the parish that grew up around it—that gave an entire district its name.
Believe, Church and Power
The abundance of churches, chapels, crucifixes, statues, and paintings in public spaces strikes many visitors to Innsbruck from other countries as unusual. Not only places of worship, but also many private houses are decorated with depictions of Jesus, Mary, saints, and biblical scenes. For centuries, the Christian faith and its institutions shaped everyday life throughout Europe, and Innsbruck—as a residence city of the strictly Catholic Habsburgs and the capital of the self-proclaimed Holy Land of Tyrol—was particularly richly endowed with ecclesiastical buildings. In terms of number and scale relative to the conditions of earlier times, churches appear as gigantic features in the cityscape. In the 16th century, Innsbruck, with its approximately 5,000 inhabitants, possessed several churches whose splendor and size surpassed every other building, including the palaces of the aristocracy. Wilten Abbey was a vast complex in the midst of a small farming village that had developed around it.
The spatial dimensions of these places of worship reflect their importance within the political and social structure. For many inhabitants of Innsbruck, the Church was not only a moral authority but also a secular landowner. The Bishop of Brixen was formally equal in rank to the territorial prince. Peasants worked on the bishop’s estates just as they did on those of a secular ruler. The clergy exercised both taxation and judicial authority over their subjects, and ecclesiastical landowners were often regarded as particularly demanding. At the same time, it was also the clergy in Innsbruck who were largely responsible for social welfare, healthcare, care for the poor and orphans, food distribution, and education. The Church’s influence extended into the material world in a way comparable to how the modern state operates today through tax offices, police, schools, and employment services. What democracy, parliament, and the market economy represent for us today, bishops, the Bible, Christian devotional literature, and parish priests represented for people of earlier centuries: a reality that maintained order.
It would be incorrect to believe that all clergymen were cynical power-hungry figures who exploited their uneducated subjects. The majority of both clergy and nobility were devout and God-fearing, albeit in a manner that is difficult to comprehend from today’s perspective. It was not the case that every superstition was blindly accepted or that people were arbitrarily executed based on anonymous accusations. In the early modern period, violations of religion and morals were tried before secular courts and punished severely. Charges were brought under the term heresy, which encompassed a wide range of offenses. Sodomy—meaning any sexual act not serving reproduction—sorcery, witchcraft, and blasphemy, in short any deviation from the correct faith, could be punished by burning. The act of burning was intended both to purify the condemned and to destroy them and their sinful behavior completely, thereby removing evil from the community. For a long time, the Church regulated everyday social life down to the smallest details. Church bells structured people’s daily schedules. Their sound called people to work or worship, or informed the community of a death through tolling. People were able to distinguish individual bell signals and their meanings. Sundays and holidays structured time. Fasting days regulated diet. Family life, sexuality, and individual behavior were expected to conform to Church-prescribed morality. For many people, salvation in the afterlife was more important than happiness on earth, which was seen as predetermined by the course of time and divine will. Purgatory, the Last Judgment, and the torments of hell were real and served to frighten and discipline even adults.
While parts of the Innsbruck bourgeoisie were at least gently awakened by Enlightenment ideas after the Napoleonic Wars, the majority of the population remained committed to a mixture of conservative Catholicism and superstitious popular piety. Religiosity was not necessarily a matter of origin or social class, as repeatedly demonstrated by social, media, and political conflicts along the fault line between liberals and conservatives. Although freedom of religion was legally enshrined in the December Constitution of 1867, the state and religion remained closely linked. The Wahrmund Affair, which originated at the University of Innsbruck in the early 20th century and spread throughout the Austro-Hungarian Empire, was just one of many examples of the influence the Church exercised well into the 1970s. Shortly before the First World War, this political crisis, which would affect the entire monarchy, began in Innsbruck. Ludwig Wahrmund (1861–1932) was Professor of Canon Law at the Faculty of Law of the University of Innsbruck. Originally selected by the Tyrolean governor to strengthen Catholicism at what was considered an overly liberal university, Wahrmund was a proponent of enlightened theology. Unlike conservative representatives in the clergy and politics, reform Catholics viewed the Pope as a spiritual leader but not as a secular authority. In Wahrmund’s view, students should reduce the gap and tensions between Church and modernity rather than cement them. Since 1848, divisions between liberal-national, socialist, conservative, and reform-oriented Catholic interest groups and parties had deepened. Greater German nationalist-minded Innsbruck citizens oriented themselves toward the modern Prussian state under Chancellor Bismarck, who sought to curtail the influence of the Church or subordinate it to the state. One of the fiercest fault lines ran through the education and higher education system, centered on the question of how the supernatural practices and views of the Church—still influential in universities—could be reconciled with modern science. Liberal and Catholic students despised one another and repeatedly clashed. Until 1906, Wahrmund was a member of the Leo Society, which aimed to promote science on a Catholic basis, before becoming chairman of the Innsbruck local branch of the Association for Free Schools, which advocated complete de-clericalization of the education system. He evolved from a reform Catholic into an advocate of a complete separation of Church and state. His lectures repeatedly attracted the attention of the authorities. Fueled by the media, the culture war between liberal German nationalists, conservatives, Christian Socials, and Social Democrats found an ideal projection surface in the person of Ludwig Wahrmund. What followed were riots, strikes, brawls between student fraternities of different political orientations, and mutual defamation among politicians. The “Away from Rome” movement of the German radical Georg Ritter von Schönerer (1842–1921) collided on the stage of the University of Innsbruck with the political Catholicism of the Christian Socials. German nationalist academics were supported by the likewise anti-clerical Social Democrats and by Mayor Greil, while the Tyrolean provincial government sided with the conservatives. The Wahrmund Affair reached the Imperial Council as a culture-war debate. For the Christian Socials, it was a “struggle of liberal-minded Jewry against Christianity,” in which “Zionists, German culture warriors, Czech and Ruthenian radicals” presented themselves as an “international coalition,” a “liberal ring of Jewish radicalism and radical Slavic movements.” Wahrmund, on the other hand, in the generally heated atmosphere, referred to Catholic students as “traitors and parasites.” When Wahrmund had one of his speeches printed in 1908, in which he questioned God, Christian morality, and Catholic veneration of saints, he was charged with blasphemy. After further, sometimes violent assemblies on both conservative and anti-clerical sides, student riots, and strikes, university operations even had to be suspended temporarily. Wahrmund was first placed on leave and later transferred to the German University in Prague. Even in the First Republic, the connection between Church and state remained strong. Ignaz Seipel, a Christian Social politician known as the “Iron Prelate,” rose in the 1920s to the highest office of the state. Federal Chancellor Engelbert Dollfuss viewed his corporative state as a construct based on Catholicism and as a bulwark against socialism. After the Second World War, Church and politics in Tyrol were still closely linked in the persons of Bishop Rusch and Chancellor Wallnöfer. Only then did a serious separation begin. Faith and the Church still have a fixed place in the everyday life of Innsbruck’s residents, even if often unnoticed. Church withdrawals in recent decades have dented official membership numbers, and leisure events are better attended than Sunday Mass. Nevertheless, the Roman Catholic Church still owns extensive land in and around Innsbruck, including outside the walls of monasteries and educational institutions. Numerous schools in and around Innsbruck are also influenced by conservative forces and the Church. And anyone who enjoys a public holiday, taps Easter eggs together, or lights a candle on a Christmas tree does not need to be Christian to act—disguised as tradition—in the name of Jesus.
The Teutonic Order & Maximilian III.
Maximilian the German master (1558 - 1618) officially took up his post as Gubernator of Tyrol and Vorderösterreich in 1602. Unlike his predecessors, he was the administrator of the land and not its owner. This was reflected in his demeanour. He was a pious and deeply religious man who had to reconcile Christian charity with the political office of regent in a peculiar way. He regularly withdrew for long periods into the seclusion of his study in the Capuchin monastery, founded in 1594, in order to live there in the most modest and austere conditions. He did not organise any lavish parties. He cut Ferdinand's bloated court almost in half. Under Maximilian, strict customs were introduced in Innsbruck. According to legend, children were forbidden to play in the streets. As a fervent representative of the Counter-Reformation, the enforcement of the Catholic faith was of particular concern to him. Unlike his predecessors, he wanted to achieve this through moral rigour rather than ostentatious building projects. He limited himself to completing churches that had already been started, such as the Servite Church or the Jesuit Church, instead of burdening the Tyrolean treasury with new projects. The Innsbruck district of St Nicholas was given its own parish priest, who watched over the salvation of the less well-off but all the more hard-working subjects. Maximilian did not organise lavish concerts in theatres, but together with the widow of his predecessor, Anna Katharina Gonzaga, promoted church singing. Nativity scenes and Easter graves began to establish themselves as an expression of popular faith. Whether it was his example as a pious sovereign, his moderate and prudent religious policy or counter-reformatory suppression, Protestant ideas died a quiet death in the Holy Land of Tyrol under Maximilian's reign, while they continued to simmer in many German principalities.
However, his piety did not exclude scientific interest and the practical measures derived from it for the good of the city. The 17th century was a time when open-minded aristocrats turned to alchemists to replenish the state coffers and had horoscopes cast by scientists such as Johannes Keppler, while they violently campaigned against the "heresy" of the Protestants. The Jesuit, physicist and astronomer Christoph Scheiner, one of the discoverers of sunspots alongside Galileo Galilei, spent three years at Maximilian's court in Innsbruck and researched the function of the human eye at the Inn. Maximilian had him set up a telescope and carried out astronomical research together with Scheiner. Educational institutions also benefited from him. During his reign, the Jesuits expanded their educational mission to include the study of theology and dialectics, which was the first step towards a university.
However, the beginning of the Enlightenment was not just a matter for the princely study room, but was also reflected in the everyday life of the citizens of Innsbruck. The city's fire-fighting system and the hygiene of the Ritschenwhich served as a sewerage system and water source within the city walls, were improved under Maximilian according to the latest knowledge of the time. The second measure in particular was intended to protect the city from a repeat of the great catastrophe under Maximilian's aegis. During his reign, he had to deal with the outbreak of a plague epidemic. The Dreiheiligenkirche church in Kohlstatt, the working-class neighbourhood of the early modern period near the Zeughaus, was built under his patronage to ensure heavenly patronage as well as protection through better hygiene.
The year of Maximilian's death in 1618 marked the beginning of the Thirty Years' War in Europe. As boring as his pious and peaceful reign without ostentation and drama may seem today, the years of peace were probably a blessing for his contemporaries. The moralising Habsburg took the thankless middle seat between the eccentrics Ferdinand II and Leopold V and could hardly leave his mark on the city's memory. Alongside the Dreiheiligenkirche, his final resting place is his most conspicuous legacy. Maximilian's tomb in Innsbruck Cathedral is one of the most remarkable tombs of the Baroque period.
It also tells the interesting story of the Teutonic Order. Maximilian was not only Gubernator of Tyrol and Vorderösterreich, but also Archduke of Austria, Administrator of Prussia and Grand Master of the Teutonic Order. Another Grand Master of the Teutonic Order from the House of Habsburg with a connection to Innsbruck is also buried next to him. Archduke Eugene was the supreme commander of the Austro-Hungarian army on the Italian front during the First World War. The German Orders vividly illustrates the theological mindset and the connection between pious faith and secular power in the early modern period. In the period up to 1500, devout piety and the fear of God were often combined with the exercise of secular power. The order was founded as an order of knights in Jerusalem around 1120 as part of the Crusades. Church and chivalry united to enable pilgrims to visit the holy cities, especially the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, without danger. After the expulsion from Palestine, the knights of the Teutonic Order became involved on the side of Christian Magyars in Transylvania in what is now Romania against pagan tribes. In the 13th century, the Order under Hermann von Salza was able to gain a lot of land in the Baltic region in the fight against the pagan Prussians and conquer the Teutonic Order state establish. This brotherhood acted as a kind of state that, like religious fundamentalists today, invoked God and wanted to establish his order on earth. It was ideals such as Christian charity and the protection of the poor and helpless that also characterised the Teutonic Order at its core. This made it an ideal fit for the Habsburg dynasty. After the decline of the Order in north-east Europe in the 15th century, the Order retained its possessions and power through skilful liaison with the nobility and the military, particularly in the Habsburg Empire.
The Red Bishop and Innsbruck's moral decay
In the 1950s, Innsbruck began to recover from the crisis and war years of the first half of the 20th century. On 15 May 1955, Federal Chancellor Leopold Figl declared with the famous words "Austria is free" and the signing of the State Treaty officially marked the political turning point. In many households, the "political turnaround" became established in the years known as Economic miracle moderate prosperity. Between 1953 and 1962, annual economic growth of over 6% allowed an increasing proportion of the population to dream of things that had long been exotic, such as refrigerators, their own bathroom or even a holiday in the south. This period brought not only material but also social change. People's desires became more outlandish with increasing prosperity and the lifestyle conveyed in advertising and the media. The phenomenon of a new youth culture began to spread gently amidst the grey society of small post-war Austria. The terms Teenager and "latchkey kid" entered the Austrian language in the 1950s. The big world came to Innsbruck via films. Cinema screenings and cinemas had already existed in Innsbruck at the turn of the century, but in the post-war period the programme was adapted to a young audience for the first time. Hardly anyone had a television set in their living room and the programme was meagre. The numerous cinemas courted the public's favour with scandalous films. From 1956, the magazine BRAVO. For the first time, there was a medium that was orientated towards the interests of young people. The first issue featured Marylin Monroe, with the question: „Marylin's curves also got married?“ The big stars of the early years were James Dean and Peter Kraus, before the Beatles took over in the 60s. After the Summer of Love Dr Sommer explained about love and sex. The church's omnipotent authority over the moral behaviour of adolescents began to crumble, albeit only slowly. The first photo love story with bare breasts did not follow until 1982. Until the 1970s, the opportunities for adolescent Innsbruckers were largely limited to pub parlours, shooting clubs and brass bands. Only gradually did bars, discos, nightclubs, pubs and event venues open. Events such as the 5 o'clock tea dance at the Sporthotel Igls attracted young people looking for a mate. The Cafe Central became the „second home of long-haired teenagers“, as the Tiroler Tageszeitung newspaper stated with horror in 1972. Establishments like the Falconry cellar in the Gilmstraße, the Uptown Jazzsalon in Hötting, the jazz club in the Hofgasse, the Clima Club in Saggen, the Scotch Club in the Angerzellgasse and the Tangent in Bruneckerstraße had nothing in common with the traditional Tyrolean beer and wine bar. The performances by the Rolling Stones and Deep Purple in the Olympic Hall in 1973 were the high point of Innsbruck's spring awakening for the time being. Innsbruck may not have become London or San Francisco, but it had at least breathed a breath of rock'n'roll. What is still anchored in cultural memory today as the '68 movement took place in the Holy Land hardly took place. Neither workers nor students took to the barricades in droves. The historian Fritz Keller described the „68 movement in Austria as "Mail fan“. Nevertheless, society was quietly and secretly changing. A look at the annual charts gives an indication of this. In 1964, it was still Chaplain Alfred Flury and Freddy with „Leave the little things“ and „Give me your word" and the Beatles with their German version of "Come, give me your hand who dominated the Top 10, musical tastes changed in the years leading up to the 1970s. Peter Alexander and Mireille Mathieu were still to be found in the charts. From 1967, however, it was international bands with foreign-language lyrics such as The Rolling Stones, Tom Jones, The Monkees, Scott McKenzie, Adriano Celentano or Simon and Garfunkel, who occupied the top positions in great density with partly socially critical lyrics.
This change provoked a backlash. The spearhead of the conservative counter-revolution was the Innsbruck bishop Paulus Rusch. Cigarettes, alcohol, overly permissive fashion, holidays abroad, working women, nightclubs, premarital sex, the 40-hour week, Sunday sporting events, dance evenings, mixed sexes in school and leisure - all of these things were strictly abhorrent to the strict churchman and follower of the Sacred Heart cult. Peter Paul Rusch was born in Munich in 1903 and grew up in Vorarlberg as the youngest of three children in a middle-class household. Both parents and his older sister died of tuberculosis before he reached adulthood. At the young age of 17, Rusch had to fend for himself early on in the meagre post-war period. Inflation had eaten up his father's inheritance, which could have financed his studies, in no time at all. Rusch worked for six years at the Bank for Tyrol and Vorarlberg, in order to finance his theological studies. He entered the Collegium Canisianum in 1927 and was ordained a priest of the Jesuit order six years later. His stellar career took the intelligent young man first to Lech and Hohenems as chaplain and then back to Innsbruck as head of the seminary. In 1938, he became titular bishop of Lykopolis and Apostolic Administrator for Tyrol and Vorarlberg. As the youngest bishop in Europe, he had to survive the harassment of the church by the National Socialist rulers. Although his critical attitude towards National Socialism was well known, Rusch himself was never imprisoned. Those in power were too afraid of turning the popular young bishop into a martyr.
After the war, the socially and politically committed bishop was at the forefront of reconstruction efforts. He wanted the church to have more influence on people's everyday lives again. His father had worked his way up from carpenter to architect and probably gave him a soft spot for the building industry. He also had his own experience at BTV. Thanks to his training as a banker, Rusch recognised the opportunities for the church to get involved and make a name for itself as a helper in times of need. It was not only the churches that had been damaged in the war that were rebuilt. The Catholic Youth under Rusch's leadership, was involved free of charge in the construction of the Heiligjahrsiedlung in the Höttinger Au. The diocese bought a building plot from the Ursuline order for this purpose. The loans for the settlers were advanced interest-free by the church. Decades later, his rustic approach to the housing issue would earn him the title of "Red Bishop" to the new home. In the modest little houses with self-catering gardens, in line with the ideas of the dogmatic and frugal "working-class bishop", 41 families, preferably with many children, found a new home.
By alleviating the housing shortage, the greatest threats in the Cold WarCommunism and socialism, from his community. The atheism prescribed by communism and the consumer-orientated capitalism that had swept into Western Europe from the USA after the war were anathema to him. In 1953, Rusch's book "Young worker, where to?". What sounds like revolutionary, left-wing reading from the Kremlin showed the principles of Christian social teaching, which castigated both capitalism and socialism. Families should live modestly in order to live in Christian harmony with the moderate financial means of a single father. Entrepreneurs, employees and workers were to form a peaceful unity. Co-operation instead of class warfare, the basis of today's social partnership. To each his own place in a Christian sense, a kind of modern feudal system that was already planned for use in Dollfuß's corporative state. He shared his political views with Governor Eduard Wallnöfer and Mayor Alois Lugger, who, together with the bishop, organised the Holy Trinity of conservative Tyrol at the time of the economic miracle. Rusch combined this with a latent Catholic anti-Semitism that was still widespread in Tyrol after 1945 and which, thanks to aberrations such as the veneration of the Anderle von Rinn has long been a tradition.
Education and training were of particular concern to the pugnacious Jesuit. The social formation across all classes by the soldiers of Christ could look back on a long tradition in Innsbruck. In 1909, the Jesuit priest and former prison chaplain Alois Mathiowitz (1853 - 1922) founded the Peter-Mayr-Bund. His approach was to put young people on the right path through leisure activities and sport and adults from working-class backgrounds through lectures and popular education. The workers' youth centre in Reichenauerstraße, which was built under his aegis, still serves as a youth centre and kindergarten today. Rusch also had experience with young people. In 1936, he was elected regional field master of the scouts in Vorarlberg. Despite a speech impediment, he was a charismatic guy and extremely popular with his young colleagues and teenagers. In his opinion, only a sound education under the wing of the church according to the Christian model could save the salvation of young people. In order to give young people a perspective and steer them in an orderly direction with a home and family, the Youth building society savings strengthened. In the parishes, kindergartens, youth centres and educational institutions such as the House of encounter on Rennweg in order to have education in the hands of the church right from the start. The vast majority of the social life of the city's young people did not take place in disreputable dive bars. Most young people simply didn't have the money to go out regularly. Many found their place in the more or less orderly channels of Catholic youth organisations. Alongside the ultra-conservative Bishop Rusch, a generation of liberal clerics grew up who became involved in youth work. In the 1960s and 70s, two church youth movements with great influence were active in Innsbruck. Sigmund Kripp and Meinrad Schumacher were responsible for this, who were able to win over teenagers and young adults with new approaches to education and a more open approach to sensitive topics such as sexuality and drugs. The education of the elite in the spirit of the Jesuit order was provided in Innsbruck from 1578 by the Marian Congregation. This youth organisation, still known today as the MK, took care of secondary school pupils. The MK had a strict hierarchical structure in order to give the young Soldaten Christi obedience from the very beginning. In 1959, Father Sigmund Kripp took over the leadership of the organisation. Under his leadership, the young people, with financial support from the church, state and parents and with a great deal of personal effort, set up projects such as the Mittergrathütte including its own material cable car in Kühtai and the legendary youth centre Kennedy House in the Sillgasse. Chancellor Klaus and members of the American embassy were present at the laying of the foundation stone for this youth centre, which was to become the largest of its kind in Europe with almost 1,500 members, as the building was dedicated to the first Catholic president of the USA, who had only recently been assassinated.
The other church youth organisation in Innsbruck was Z6. The city's youth chaplain, Chaplain Meinrad Schumacher, took care of the youth organisation as part of the Action 4-5-6 to all young people who are in the MK or the Catholic Student Union had no place. Working-class children and apprentices met in various youth centres such as Pradl or Reichenau before the new centre, also built by the members themselves, was opened at Zollerstraße 6 in 1971. Josef Windischer took over the management of the centre. The Z6 already had more to do with what Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda were doing on the big screen on their motorbikes in Easy Rider was shown. Things were rougher here than in the MK. Rock gangs like the Santanas, petty criminals and drug addicts also spent their free time in Z6. While Schumacher reeled off his programme upstairs with the "good" youngsters, Windischer and the Outsiders the basement to help the lost sheep as much as possible.
At the end of the 1960s, both the MK and the Z6 decided to open up to non-members. Girls' and boys' groups were partially merged and non-members were also admitted. Although the two youth centres had different target groups, the concept was the same. Theological knowledge and Christian morals were taught in a playful, age-appropriate environment. Sections such as chess, football, hockey, basketball, music, cinema films and a party room catered to the young people's needs for games, sport and the removal of taboos surrounding their first sexual experiences. The youth centres offered a space where young people of both sexes could meet. However, the MK in particular remained an institution that had nothing to do with the wild life of the '68ers, as it is often portrayed in films. For example, dance courses did not take place during Advent, carnival or on Saturdays, and for under-17s they were forbidden.
Nevertheless, the youth centres went too far for Bishop Rusch. The critical articles in the MK newspaper We discuss, which reached a circulation of over 2,000 copies, found less and less favour. Solidarity with Vietnam was one thing, but criticism of marksmen and the army could not be tolerated. After years of disputes between the bishop and the youth centre, it came to a showdown in 1973. When Father Kripp published his book Farewell to tomorrow in which he reported on his pedagogical concept and the work in the MK, there were non-public proceedings within the diocese and the Jesuit order against the director of the youth centre. Despite massive protests from parents and members, Kripp was removed. Neither the intervention within the church by the eminent theologian Karl Rahner, nor a petition initiated by the artist Paul Flora, nor regional and national outrage in the press could save the overly liberal Father from the wrath of Rusch, who even secured the papal blessing from Rome for his removal from office.
In July 1974, the Z6 was also temporarily over. Articles about the contraceptive pill and the Z6 newspaper's criticism of the Catholic Church were too much for the strict bishop. Rusch had the keys to the youth centre changed without further ado, a method he also used at the Catholic Student Union when it got too close to a left-wing action group. The Tiroler Tageszeitung noted this in a small article on 1 August 1974:
"In recent weeks, there had been profound disputes between the educators and the bishop over fundamental issues. According to the bishop, the views expressed in "Z 6" were "no longer in line with church teaching". For example, the leadership of the centre granted young people absolute freedom of conscience without simultaneously recognising objective norms and also permitted sexual relations before marriage."
It was his adherence to conservative values and his stubbornness that damaged Rusch's reputation in the last 20 years of his life. When he was consecrated as the first bishop of the newly founded diocese of Innsbruck in 1964, times were changing. The progressive with practical life experience of the past was overtaken by the modern life of a new generation and the needs of the emerging consumer society. The bishop's constant criticism of the lifestyle of his flock and his stubborn adherence to his overly conservative values, coupled with some bizarre statements, turned the co-founder of development aid into a Brother in needthe young, hands-on bishop of the reconstruction, from the late 1960s onwards as a reason for leaving the church. His concept of repentance and penance took on bizarre forms. He demanded guilt and atonement from the Tyroleans for their misdemeanours during the Nazi era, but at the same time described the denazification laws as too far-reaching and strict. In response to the new sexual practices and abortion laws under Chancellor Kreisky, he said that girls and young women who have premature sexual intercourse are up to twelve times more likely to develop cancer of the mother's organs. Rusch described Hamburg as a cesspool of sin and he suspected that the simple minds of the Tyrolean population were not up to phenomena such as tourism and nightclubs and were tempted to immoral behaviour. He feared that technology and progress were making people too independent of God. He was strictly against the new custom of double income. People should be satisfied with a spiritual family home with a vegetable garden and not strive for more; women should concentrate on their traditional role as housewife and mother.
In 1973, after 35 years at the head of the church community in Tyrol and Innsbruck, Bishop Rusch was made an honorary citizen of the city of Innsbruck. He resigned from his office in 1981. In 1986, Innsbruck's first bishop was laid to rest in St Jakob's Cathedral. The Bishop Paul's Student Residence The church of St Peter Canisius in the Höttinger Au, which was built under him, commemorates him.
After its closure in 1974, the Z6 youth centre moved to Andreas-Hofer-Straße 11 before finding its current home in Dreiheiligenstraße, in the middle of the working-class district of the early modern period opposite the Pest Church. Jussuf Windischer remained in Innsbruck after working on social projects in Brazil. The father of four children continued to work with socially marginalised groups, was a lecturer at the Social Academy, prison chaplain and director of the Caritas Integration House in Innsbruck.
The MK also still exists today, even though the Kennedy House, which was converted into a Sigmund Kripp House was renamed, no longer exists. In 2005, Kripp was made an honorary citizen of the city of Innsbruck by his former sodalist and later deputy mayor, like Bishop Rusch before him.
Air raids on Innsbruck
Wie der Lauf der Geschichte der Stadt unterliegt auch ihr Aussehen einem ständigen Wandel. Besonders gut sichtbare Veränderungen im Stadtbild erzeugten die Jahre rund um 1500 und zwischen 1850 bis 1900, als sich politische, wirtschaftliche und gesellschaftliche Veränderungen in besonders schnellem Tempo abspielten. Das einschneidendste Ereignis mit den größten Auswirkungen auf das Stadtbild waren aber wohl die Luftangriffe auf die Stadt im Zweiten Weltkrieg, als aus der „Heimatfront“ der Nationalsozialisten ein tatsächlicher Kriegsschauplatz wurde. Die Lage am Fuße des Brenners war über Jahrhunderte ein Segen für die Stadt gewesen, nun wurde sie zum Verhängnis. Innsbruck war ein wichtiger Versorgungsbahnhof für den Nachschub an der Italienfront. In der Nacht vom 15. auf den 16. Dezember 1943 erfolgte der erste alliierte Luftangriff auf die schlecht vorbereitete Stadt. 269 Menschen fielen den Bomben zum Opfer, 500 wurden verletzt und mehr als 1500 obdachlos. Über 300 Gebäude, vor allem in Wilten und der Innenstadt, wurden zerstört und beschädigt. Am Montag, den 18. Dezember fanden sich in den Innsbrucker Nachrichten, dem Vorgänger der Tiroler Tageszeitung, auf der Titelseite allerhand propagandistische Meldungen vom erfolgreichen und heroischen Abwehrkampf der Deutschen Wehrmacht an allen Fronten gegenüber dem Bündnis aus Anglo-Amerikanern und dem Russen, nicht aber vom Bombenangriff auf Innsbruck.
Bombenterror über Innsbruck
Innsbruck, 17. Dez. Der 16. Dezember wird in der Geschichte Innsbrucks als der Tag vermerkt bleiben, an dem der Luftterror der Anglo-Amerikaner die Gauhauptstadt mit der ganzen Schwere dieser gemeinen und brutalen Kampfweise, die man nicht mehr Kriegführung nennen kann, getroffen hat. In mehreren Wellen flogen feindliche Kampfverbände die Stadt an und richteten ihre Angriffe mit zahlreichen Spreng- und Brandbomben gegen die Wohngebiete. Schwerste Schäden an Wohngebäuden, an Krankenhäusern und anderen Gemeinschaftseinrichtungen waren das traurige, alle bisherigen Schäden übersteigende Ergebnis dieses verbrecherischen Überfalles, der über zahlreiche Familien unserer Stadt schwerste Leiden und empfindliche Belastung der Lebensführung, das bittere Los der Vernichtung liebgewordenen Besitzes, der Zerstörung von Heim und Herd und der Heimatlosigkeit gebracht hat. Grenzenloser Haß und das glühende Verlangen diese unmenschliche Untat mit schonungsloser Schärfe zu vergelten, sind die einzige Empfindung, die außer der Auseinandersetzung mit den eigenen und den Gemeinschaftssorgen alle Gemüter bewegt. Wir alle blicken voll Vertrauen auf unsere Soldaten und erwarten mit Zuversicht den Tag, an dem der Führer den Befehl geben wird, ihre geballte Kraft mit neuen Waffen gegen den Feind im Westen einzusetzen, der durch seinen Mord- und Brandterror gegen Wehrlose neuerdings bewiesen hat, daß er sich von den asiatischen Bestien im Osten durch nichts unterscheidet – es wäre denn durch größere Feigheit. Die Luftschutzeinrichtungen der Stadt haben sich ebenso bewährt, wie die Luftschutzdisziplin der Bevölkerung. Bis zur Stunde sind 26 Gefallene gemeldet, deren Zahl sich aller Voraussicht nach nicht wesentlich erhöhen dürfte. Die Hilfsmaßnahmen haben unter Führung der Partei und tatkräftigen Mitarbeit der Wehrmacht sofort und wirkungsvoll eingesetzt.
Diese durch Zensur und Gleichschaltung der Medien fantasievoll gestaltete Nachricht schaffte es gerade mal auf Seite 3. Prominenter wollte man die schlechte Vorbereitung der Stadt auf das absehbare Bombardement wohl nicht dem Volkskörper präsentieren. Ganz so groß wie 1938 nach dem Anschluss, als Hitler am 5. April von 100.000 Menschen in Innsbruck begeistert empfangen worden war, war die Begeisterung für den Nationalsozialismus nicht mehr. Zu groß waren die Schäden an der Stadt und die persönlichen, tragischen Verluste in der Bevölkerung. Dass die sterblichen Überreste der Opfer des Luftangriffes vom 15. Dezember 1943 am heutigen Landhausplatz vor dem neu errichteten Gauhaus als Symbol nationalsozialistischer Macht im Stadtbild aufgebahrt wurden, zeugt von trauriger Ironie des Schicksals.
Im Jänner 1944 begann man Luftschutzstollen und andere Schutzmaßnahmen zu errichten. Die Arbeiten wurden zu einem großen Teil von Gefangenen des Konzentrationslagers Reichenau durchgeführt. Insgesamt wurde Innsbruck zwischen 1943 und 1945 zweiundzwanzig Mal angegriffen. Dabei wurden knapp 3833, also knapp 50%, der Gebäude in der Stadt beschädigt und 504 Menschen starben. In den letzten Kriegsmonaten war an Normalität nicht mehr zu denken. Die Bevölkerung lebte in dauerhafter Angst. Die Schulen wurden bereits vormittags geschlossen. An einen geregelten Alltag war nicht mehr zu denken. Die Stadt wurde zum Glück nur Opfer gezielter Angriffe. Deutsche Städte wie Hamburg oder Dresden wurden von den Alliierten mit Feuerstürmen mit Zehntausenden Toten innerhalb weniger Stunden komplett dem Erdboden gleichgemacht. Viele Gebäude wie die Jesuitenkirche, das Stift Wilten, die Servitenkirche, der Dom, das Hallenbad in der Amraserstraße wurden getroffen. Besondere Behandlung erfuhren während der Angriffe historische Gebäude und Denkmäler. Das Goldene Dachl was protected with a special construction, as was Maximilian's sarcophagus in the Hofkirche. The figures in the Hofkirche, the Schwarzen Mannder, wurden nach Kundl gebracht. Die Madonna Lucas Cranachs aus dem Innsbrucker Dom wurde während des Krieges ins Ötztal überführt.
Der Luftschutzstollen südlich von Innsbruck an der Brennerstraße und die Kennzeichnungen von Häusern mit Luftschutzkellern mit ihren schwarzen Vierecken und den weißen Kreisen und Pfeilen kann man heute noch begutachten. Zwei der Stellungen der Flugabwehrgeschütze, mittlerweile nur noch zugewachsene Mauerreste, können am Lanser Köpfl oberhalb von Innsbruck besichtigt werden. In Pradl, wo neben Wilten die meisten Gebäude beschädigt wurden, weisen an den betroffenen Häusern Bronzetafeln mit dem Hinweis auf den Wiederaufbau auf einen Bombentreffer hin.