Collegium Canisianum
Tschurtschenthalerstrasse 7
Worth knowing
The colossal building of the Jesuit student residence, including its chapel, occupies a dignified place in the villa district of Saggen. Anyone looking down from Villa Blanka, slightly above Innsbruck, toward Saggen will first see the Canisianum, which—resembling a palace with its more than 20 window axes across the width—dominates the entire street. The entrance, featuring an Ionic columned portico and a tower with a lantern rising above it, forms a harmonious ensemble. The main windows are adorned with stone coats of arms of the House of Habsburg, the city of Innsbruck, and the province of Tyrol. The large mosaic on the façade depicts Petrus Canisius in the pose of a popular educator and interpreter of the world. A smaller mosaic, also shimmering in gold, shows the archangel Michael holding a sword to the head of a subjugated Satan. Both works were created by the Tyrolean Institute for Stained Glass and Mosaic.
The Collegium Canisianum is, alongside the Jesuit Church and the theological faculty, the second still-existing and prominently visible building in the cityscape that bears witness to the Jesuit influence on Innsbruck’s educational landscape. Its origins are rather surprising, as one would not expect such a grandiose building of a religious order to be dated to the final years of the monarchy. The institution began with the settlement of the Jesuits in Innsbruck. In 1587, the Nikolaihaus in today’s Universitätsstraße was opened as a boarding school for impoverished students of the Latin school. The students were supported at the expense of the archducal court or wealthy citizens. In return, they were required to pray rosaries and litanies for the salvation of their noble patron’s soul. After the founding of the University of Innsbruck in 1669, it served as a residence hall for students of the theological faculty. Under the enlightened Emperor Joseph II, who was not well disposed toward the Jesuits, the order lost its role as patron of the educational system; only under Franz Joseph I were the Jesuits restored to their traditional status. Soon, however, the Nikolaihaus in today’s Sillgasse became too small due to the large influx of students. In the general construction boom of the pre-war years, work began on the new residence in Saggen—despite the fact that the liberal circles of the city were anything but enthusiastic about yet another religious building in the urban landscape. As with the Convent of Perpetual Adoration, the clergy prevailed; Austria was still firmly in Catholic-Habsburg hands. In 1911, the Collegium Canisianum opened its doors to 276 seminarians from around the world. No member of the Habsburgs attended the opening, but one could read the “imperial thanks” for the project in the Innsbrucker Nachrichten on October 28:
“The imperial-royal governor for Tyrol and Vorarlberg has, by supreme order, conveyed the highest thanks to those involved for the expressions of loyalty telegraphed on the occasion of the consecration of the newly built house Collegium Canisianum, the theological seminary in Innsbruck.”
Like many other church institutions, the Canisianum and the theological faculty were forced to close after the Anschluss of Austria in 1938 under the fury of the National Socialists. The Jesuits went into exile in Sion, Switzerland, but returned again after the war in 1945. The chapel in the basement was redesigned in the 1970s in the contemporary, modern, and very austere style of the time. Similar to the parish church in Höttinger Au, which is also dedicated to Petrus Canisius, this devotional space is intended to reflect a reorientation of the clergy. Since 2013, the Canisianum has served as a student residence.
Petrus Canisius and the Jesuits
Franciscans, Premonstratensians, Carmelites, Servites, Capuchins, Ursulines. Anyone visiting Innsbruck strolls past numerous monasteries—usually without realizing it. Yet the most politically and socially influential order in the city’s history since the sixteenth century was the Jesuits. These “Soldiers of Christ” were founded in 1540 by the Spanish nobleman Ignatius of Loyola (1491–1556). Loyola was a morally rigorous reformer and an influential church politician with access to the highest circles of power of his time. His aim was to reform the Church—not, like Luther, without the Pope as its supreme authority. Nor did he consider dissolving monastic property. Renewal of faith from the top down, rather than the destruction of the existing order, was the guiding principle of the Societas Jesu. The order rapidly gained influence. Its military-inspired organization and structure, the combination of humanist learning with Catholic tradition, its affinity for science and education paired with a form of popular piety imbued with mysticism—all this made the Jesuits attractive to many people who were disillusioned by the moral decay of the late medieval clergy. In these respects, the Jesuits were very much attuned to an era shaped by new political, social, and economic structures. Like the Protestant reformers, they skilfully exploited the new medium of print to disseminate their writings. They represented the confessional continuation of a societal transformation characterized by the growing power of the state, new media, and double-entry bookkeeping. In this environment, spiritual guidance was in high demand. Politically, the Holy Roman Empire in the mid-sixteenth century was steeped in crisis. Italy had been severely affected by the wars between France and the Habsburgs. Major trading houses such as the Fuggers and the Welsers amassed ever greater influence. The German territories were still reeling from the Peasants’ Wars. Inflation posed a serious threat, and the many technological innovations around 1500 inspired fear among broad segments of the population. How, then, could the wrath of God—provoked by the failings of the Renaissance popes—and the looming end of the world be averted, if not through moral reform and a life lived according to the teachings of Christ?
A zealous patron of the Jesuits in Tyrol was the territorial prince and later Emperor Ferdinand I. Like Ignatius of Loyola, he had grown up in Spain. He struggled with German customs, the Reformation movement—unknown in Spain—and even the German language itself. The Tyrolean population, for its part, regarded their sovereign with suspicion, easily mistaking his foreign courtly entourage for an occupying power. A unifying element between these two worlds was the Roman Church, and in particular the modern Jesuit order. Probably the most important Jesuit theologian was Petrus Canisius (1521–1597). Born Peter Kanis into an upper-middle-class household in the Netherlands—his father was mayor of Nijmegen—he was exposed to high politics from an early age and learned courtly manners before studying in Cologne. Canisius became the first member of the order active within the Holy Roman Empire. Intelligent and highly educated, he rose swiftly through the ranks. Ferdinand appointed him to Vienna, where he was tasked with restoring order both as episcopal administrator and at the university. Alongside teaching and research, one of his main duties was to identify and interrogate university members suspected of Protestant sympathies. Canisius also spent several years in Innsbruck. Initially, the Jesuits were supposed to move into the newly completed Court Church (Hofkirche) and assume responsibility for the choral prayers at the tomb of Maximilian I. Canisius, as the highest-ranking representative of the order north of the Alps, politely but firmly declined. In 1563, however, the Emperor succeeded in luring him to the Alps after all. The scholar was needed as an adviser during a dispute with the Pope at the Council of Trent. For Ferdinand, Canisius composed a prayer manual intended to guide the ruler along the right spiritual path. The presence of Petrus Canisius made Innsbruck one of the theological centres of the German‑speaking world in the sixteenth century. In October 1571, he informed the parish of Wilten of the victory of the papal‑imperial fleet over the Ottomans at Lepanto. From the pulpit, Canisius proclaimed the triumph of Christian forces over the looming pagan threat in the greatest naval battle in history, adopting a tone reminiscent of a Catholic news broadcaster. His role as preacher and scholar in the city would be comparable to Albert Einstein holding a teaching post at a university in the 1930s. Canisius himself was deeply impressed by the piety of the Alpine population.
"Tyrol deserves our special attention, because it is even more Catholic than any other region of Germany and has not yet allowed itself to be ensnared by the heretics like the other countries. Even if many places have already been corrupted [...]. Innsbruck is ... the heart and life of the whole country."
Beyond courtly circles, the court preacher also cut a fine figure. While many Innsbruck residents eyed other foreign preachers and advisers at court with suspicion, Canisius was a man of the people. On behalf of his spiritual—and even more so his secular—masters, he travelled across Europe. Like Martin Luther, he “listened to the people’s speech.” Canisius is said to have travelled more than 100,000 kilometres between the Netherlands, Rome, and Poland, usually staying in modest inns. He understood how vital it was to win over the rural population. While his fellow Jesuits evangelised in distant India, he fought Protestantism in the German lands. He recognized that sermons in Latin were ill‑suited to immunise peasants, farmhands, and maids against the threat posed to the Roman Church by Luther’s Protestantism.
The strongest and most enduring pillar in the struggle against the Reformers was education. Canisius regarded many bishops and politicians as corrupt, morally depraved, and sinful. Instead of eliminating them, however, they were to reform themselves under the protective wings of the Soldiers of Christ. By founding new colleges, the Jesuits sought to improve the education of civil servants, the nobility, and the clergy, and to raise moral standards rooted in Christian principles. To this end, they established colleges throughout the Empire. In Protestant regions, German schools, academies, and grammar schools were founded with the aim of enabling as many subjects as possible to read the Bible for themselves in pursuit of piety and salvation. The Jesuits, by contrast, concentrated on educating elites and thus attained lasting influence within the power centres of Catholic states. With his Catechism, Petrus Canisius created a foundational German‑language compendium for the Catholic struggle against the Reformation. Translated into all major European languages, it long served as a guiding text of the Catholic Church. Between 1555 and 1558, three versions of varying complexity were produced for different audiences. Resourceful publishers even created an illustrated catechism for the illiterate. Well into the nineteenth century—and in some regions even beyond the Second World War—the Kanisi, as it was affectionately known, remained the most influential religious‑philosophical work in Tyrol and the foundation of religious instruction in schools. Canisius also made use of the new medium of the pamphlet to reach as wide an audience as possible. Together with those of Luther, his writings were probably the most widely read of the sixteenth century. In Innsbruck, the Jesuits founded the Latin School from which the university later emerged. This new educational institution had a profound impact on urban development, training the intelligentsia that enabled Innsbruck’s rise as an administrative and economic centre. In addition to university chairs, the Jesuits also oversaw the Theresianum. From 1775 to 1848, noble pupils and students housed in the Franciscan monastery were instructed in courtly etiquette and virtuous conduct in preparation for their careers. The Theresian Knightly Academy provided instruction in diplomatic skills such as foreign languages and dance, as well as military disciplines like fencing. Under Joseph II, Jesuit activities were temporarily interrupted. He stripped ecclesiastical orders of power and property, including the Jesuits—an order he personally disliked and which was also banned by the Pope for being too powerful. In 1781, the University of Innsbruck was downgraded to a lyceum. The vacated Jesuit College was used to establish the city’s first botanical garden, which was expanded further after the Theresianum was dissolved in 1808 during Bavarian administration. The Jesuits were recalled to Innsbruck in 1838. In 1910, the garden was relocated to Hötting as part of new school construction.
Through a dense network of influential positions and control over the education system, the order expanded rapidly. Especially during the Counter‑Reformation, the Jesuits succeeded in forging a close alliance with the Habsburg dynasty. The influence of Jesuit education is evident in the governance of many Habsburg rulers. Jesuits such as Bartholomäus Viller and Wilhelm Lamormaini wielded considerable political influence as confessors and advisers in the Early Modern period. It is no coincidence that Jesuits continue to feature as adversaries of Freemasons in countless conspiracy theories and novels, often cast as the modern equivalent of a James Bond villain. At the same time, the Jesuits were remarkably open to research, knowledge accumulation, and education, striving to understand the world as part of Christian creation. To Catholics, this made them a fashionable counterpoint both to traditional, ossified orders and to Protestantism. Faith and empiricism merged into a kind of pre‑modern science seeking to explain nature and physics. The collection of Ferdinand II at Ambras Castle testifies to this spirit of inquiry, as do the alchemical experiments of Emperor Matthias (1557–1619), which now appear rather absurd.
Despite their rational leanings, the Jesuits also re‑introduced mysticism into everyday church life. Passion plays, Holy Sepulchres, processions, and feast days wrapped strict doctrinal principles in spectacle and performance. Work hard – play hard was the motto. Festivities during processions often escalated into exuberant celebrations, not unlike today’s tent festivals, occasionally erupting into brawls and even violent riots. Bread and wine were celebrated in the style of Roman panem et circenses. On behalf of Ferdinand I, Petrus Canisius authored a book promoting a miracle in Seefeld—On the Highly Celebrated Miraculous Sign that Occurred with the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar at Seefeld in the Princely County of Tyrol in the Year 1384—to stimulate pilgrimage to the site.
The Jesuit order, fully committed to popular belief, was also highly motivated when it came to persecuting witches and people of other faiths. Peter Canisius was one of the masterminds behind the early modern witch hunts:
"Witches are being punished everywhere, and they are multiplying strangely.... They envy children the grace of baptism and deprive them of it. There are large numbers of child murderers among them... Never before in Germany have you seen people so devoted and dedicated to the devil..."
Canisius also attracted attention as an exorcist, particularly in cases involving noblewomen allegedly afflicted by the “virus” of Protestantism. He exploited the public fascination with witches and demoniacs to promote the power and authority of the Catholic Church. At the same time, the Jesuits were highly active in missionary efforts in the then newly discovered New World of the Americas as well as in Asia. Saint Francis Xavier, one of Ignatius of Loyola’s earliest companions, died during a missionary journey in China. An altar dedicated to this Soldier of Christ can be found in a side chapel of the Jesuit Church in Innsbruck.
To this day, the Jesuits continue to exert an educational influence over Innsbruck. When the city was elevated to an independent diocese in 1964 under the Jesuit Paulus Rusch, Petrus Canisius was chosen as its patron saint. Karl‑Rahner‑Platz today is home not only to the Jesuit Church but also to the Faculty of Theology of the University of Innsbruck. In the Saggen district, the Collegium Canisianum remains under Jesuit administration. The principle of broad‑based societal influence aimed at mass audiences has endured on many levels. The Marian Congregation, known in Innsbruck as the MK, was once one of the largest youth centres in Europe and, in a modern sense, stands in the tradition of the Jesuit approach to the gentle introduction into faith and the education of youth within the Church.
Innsbruck and National Socialism
In the 1920s and 30s, the NSDAP also grew and prospered in Tyrol. The first local branch of the NSDAP in Innsbruck was founded in 1923. With "Der Nationalsozialist - Combat Gazette for Tyrol and Vorarlberg“ erschien ein eigenes Wochenblatt. 1933 erlebte die NSDAP mit dem Rückenwind aus Deutschland auch in Innsbruck einen kometenhaften Aufstieg. Die allgemeine Unzufriedenheit und Politikverdrossenheit der Bürger und theatralisch inszenierte Fackelzüge durch die Stadt samt hakenkreuzförmiger Bergfeuer auf der Nordkette im Wahlkampf verhalfen der Partei zu einem großen Zugewinn. Über 1800 Innsbrucker waren Mitglied der SA, die ihr Quartier in der Bürgerstraße 10 hatte. Konnten die Nationalsozialisten bei ihrem ersten Antreten bei einer Gemeinderatswahl 1921 nur 2,8% der Stimmen erringen, waren es bei den Wahlen 1933 bereits 41%. Die Modernität der Partei mit ihrem demonstrativ-revolutionären Antiklerikalismus und die Aufstiegsmöglichkeiten, die sie bot, sprach vor allem junge Menschen an. Wer bereits oben war, sehnte sich nach den Zeiten vor dem allgemeinen Wahlrecht zurück, als Sozialdemokraten noch nichts zu melden hatten. Neun Mandatare, darunter der spätere Bürgermeister Egon Denz und der Gauleiter Tirols Franz Hofer, zogen in den Gemeinderat ein. Nicht nur die Wahl Hitlers zum Reichskanzler in Deutschland, auch Kampagnen und Manifestationen in Innsbruck verhalfen der ab 1934 in Österreich verbotenen Partei zu diesem Ergebnis. Wie überall waren es auch in Innsbruck vor allem junge Menschen, die sich für den Nationalsozialismus begeisterten. Das Neue, das Aufräumen mit alten Hierarchien und Strukturen wie der katholischen Kirche, der Umbruch und der noch nie dagewesene Stil zogen sie an. Besonders unter den großdeutsch gesinnten Burschen der Studentenverbindungen und vielfach auch unter Professoren war der Nationalsozialismus beliebt.
When the annexation of Austria to Germany took place in March 1938, civil war-like scenes ensued. Already in the run-up to the invasion, there had been repeated marches and rallies by the National Socialists after the ban on the party had been lifted. Even before Federal Chancellor Schuschnigg gave his last speech to the people before handing over power to the National Socialists with the words "God bless Austria" had closed on 11 March 1938, the National Socialists were already gathering in the city centre to celebrate the invasion of the German troops. The police of the corporative state were partly sympathetic to the riots of the organised manifestations and partly powerless in the face of the goings-on. Although the Landhaus and Maria-Theresien-Straße were cordoned off and secured with machine-gun posts, there was no question of any crackdown by the executive. "One people - one empire - one leader" echoed through the city. The threat of the German military and the deployment of SA troops dispelled the last doubts. More and more of the enthusiastic population joined in. At the Tiroler Landhaus, then still in Maria-Theresienstraße, and at the provisional headquarters of the National Socialists in the Gasthaus Old Innspruggthe swastika flag was hoisted.
Am 12. März empfingen die Innsbrucker das deutsche Militär frenetisch. Um die Gastfreundschaft gegenüber den Nationalsozialisten sicherzustellen, ließ Bürgermeister Egon Denz jedem Arbeiter einen Wochenlohn auszahlen. Am 5. April besuchte Adolf Hitler persönlich Innsbruck, um sich von der Menge feiern zu lassen. Archivbilder zeigen eine euphorische Menschenmenge in Erwartung des heilsversprechenden Führers. Auf der Nordkette wurden Bergfeuer in Hakenkreuzform entzündet. Die Volksbefragung am 10. April ergab eine Zustimmung von über 99% zum Anschluss Österreichs an Deutschland. Die Menschen waren nach der wirtschaftlichen Not der Zwischenkriegszeit, der Wirtschaftskrise und den Regierungen unter Dollfuß und Schuschnigg müde und wollten Veränderung. Welche Art von Veränderung, war im ersten Moment weniger wichtig als die Veränderung an und für sich. „Showing them up there“, das war Hitlers Versprechen. Wehrmacht und Industrie boten jungen Menschen eine Perspektive, auch denen, die mit der Ideologie des Nationalsozialismus an und für sich wenig anfangen konnten. Der nostalgisch gehegte großdeutsche Traum hatte lange Tradition in Tirol. Das Versprechen, die deutschsprachigen Südtiroler Heim ins Reich zu holen und damit das Unrecht der Brennergrenze auszumerzen war ebenfalls ein gerne gehörtes Versprechen. Dass es immer wieder zu Gewaltausbrüchen kam, war für die Zwischenkriegszeit in Österreich ohnehin nicht unüblich. Anders als heute war Demokratie nichts, woran sich jemand in der kurzen, von politischen Extremen geprägten Zeit zwischen der Monarchie 1918 bis zur Ausschaltung des Parlaments unter Dollfuß 1933 hätte gewöhnen können. Was faktisch nicht in den Köpfen der Bevölkerung existiert, muss man nicht abschaffen.
Tyrol and Vorarlberg were combined into a Reichsgau with Innsbruck as its capital. Even though National Socialism was viewed sceptically by a large part of the population, there was hardly any organised or even armed resistance, as the Catholic resistance OE5 and the left in Tyrol were not strong enough for this. There were isolated instances of unorganised subversive behaviour by the population, especially in the arch-Catholic rural communities around Innsbruck. The power apparatus dominated people's everyday lives too comprehensively. Many jobs and other comforts of life were tied to an at least outwardly loyal attitude to the party. The majority of the population was spared imprisonment, but the fear of it was omnipresent.
Das Regime unter Hofer und Gestapochef Werner Hilliges leistete auch ganze Arbeit bei der Unterdrückung. InTirol war die Kirche das größte Hindernis. Während des Nationalsozialismus wurde die katholische Kirche systematisch bekämpft. Katholische Schulen wurden umfunktioniert, Jugendorganisationen und Vereine verboten, Klöster geschlossen, der Religionsunterricht abgeschafft und eine Kirchensteuer eingeführt. Besonders hartnäckige Pfarrer wie Otto Neururer wurden in Konzentrationslager gebracht. Auch Lokalpolitiker wie die späteren Innsbrucker Bürgermeister Franz Greiter und Anton Melzer, der im Ersten Weltkrieg für Gott, Kaiser und Vaterland einen Arm verloren hatte, mussten flüchten oder wurden verhaftet. Gewalt und die Verbrechen an der jüdischen Bevölkerung, dem Klerus, politisch Verdächtigen, Zivilpersonen und Kriegsgefangenen auch nur überblicksmäßig zusammenzufassen würde den Rahmen sprengen. Das Hauptquartier der Gestapo befand sich in der Herrengasse 1. Hier wurden Verdächtige schwer misshandelt und teils mit Fäusten zu Tode geprügelt. 1941 wurde in der Rossau in der Nähe des Bauhofs Innsbruck das Arbeitslager Reichenau errichtet. Verdächtige Personen aller Art wurden hier zu Zwangsarbeiten in schäbigen Baracken verwahrt. Über 130 Personen fanden in diesem Lager bestehend aus 20 Baracken den Tod durch Krankheit, die schlechten Bedingungen, Arbeitsunfälle oder Hinrichtungen. Auch im 10 km von Innsbruck entfernten Dorf Kematen kamen im Messerschmitt Werk Gefangene zum Zwangseinsatz. Darunter waren politische Häftlinge, russische Kriegsgefangene und Juden. Zu den Zwangsarbeiten gehörten unter anderem die Errichtung der South Tyrolean settlements in the final phase or the tunnels to protect against air raids in the south of Innsbruck. In the Innsbruck clinic, disabled people and those deemed unacceptable by the system, such as homosexuals, were forcibly sterilised.
The memorials to the National Socialist era are few and far between. The Tiroler Landhaus with the Liberation Monument and the building of the Old University are the two most striking memorials. The forecourt of the university and a small column at the southern entrance to the hospital were also designed to commemorate what was probably the darkest chapter in Austria's history.
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 success story of the Innsbruck glass painters
In the pre-war period, the United States of America was regarded as the Land of unlimited possibilitieswhere dishwashers became millionaires. However, these success stories are not an exclusive phenomenon of the New World. Even in the society of the Danube Monarchy, which was not yet regulated down to the last detail, hard-working and capable people from the farming classes, the working classes or craftsmen were able to achieve astonishing success without formal training, qualification examinations or state authorisation. The three founders of the Tyrolean Glass Painting and Mosaic Institute, Josef von Stadl, Georg Mader and Albert Neuhauser, are examples of such a success story from Innsbruck's city history. While most of Innsbruck's industrial and craft businesses focussed on supplying the local market with tried and tested, solid products and consumer goods, the glass painting business was one of the few innovative and export-oriented companies of its time.
Josef von Stadl (1828 - 1893) grew up on his parents' farm and inn in Steinach am Brenner. Even as a child, he had to help out on the farm. The hard labour gave him periostitis in his arm at the age of nine. This made heavy physical labour impossible for him. Instead, the boy with a talent for drawing attended the model secondary school in Innsbruck, now the BORG. In 1848, he joined the Tyrolean snipers in his home town, but was not called up to fight on the country's borders. He then gained experience as a locksmith and turner. The talented young man worked on the reconstruction of the church in Steinach in 1853 after a village band. His skills were soon recognised and he gradually rose from labourer to master builder.
Georg Mader (1824 - 1881) also came from Steinach. He too had to work as a farm labourer at a young age. On the patronage of his brother, a clergyman, the pious youth was able to complete an apprenticeship with a painter, but had to give up his passion to work in the local mill. After his journeyman's journey, he decided to concentrate on painting. In Munich, he deepened his knowledge under Kaulbach and Schraudolph. After working on the cathedral in Speyer, he returned to Tyrol. As a history painter, he kept his head above water with commissions from the church.
Albert Neuhauser (1832 - 1901) learnt his trade in his father's glazier's and tinsmith's shop. He also had to give up his intended career path at an early age. He developed lung problems at the age of ten. Instead of working in his father's successful business, he travelled to Venice. For centuries, Murano had been home to the best glassworks for artistic glass production. Fascinated by this trade, he attended the stained glass school in Munich against his father's wishes. The products of the recently founded Bavarian factory did not meet his quality expectations. In his father's flat in Herzog-Friedrich-Straße, he undertook his first experiments with glass, similar to the nerds who would lay the foundations for the personal computer in their own garage a hundred years later.
Neuhauser's tinkering and experiments aroused the curiosity of his friend von Stadl. He made contact with the art-loving Mader. In 1861, the three decided to pool their expertise in an official company. Today, the founding of the company would probably be referred to as a start-up. Neuhauser took on the technical and commercial side as well as product development, Von Stadl took care of the decorative aspects and liaised with master builders and Mader took on the figurative design of the works, most of which were created for churches. The first branch, consisting of two painters and a burner, was set up on the third floor of the Gasthof zur Rose in the historic city centre. The raw material came from England, as the local glass did not meet Neuhauser's high quality standards. However, 25% duty was added to the import. Together with a chemistry teacher, Neuhauser managed to achieve the desired requirements himself after a trip to Birmingham and a lot of tinkering.
Josef von Stadl married the painter and doctor's daughter Maria Pfefferer in 1867. The farmer's boy from the Wipptal valley with the broken arm had not only become a member of the upper middle class, his wife's dowry also allowed him to live independently financially. In 1869, the three partners decided to expand the successful glass painting business with the financial support of Neuhauser's father. How dynamic and unregulated it was as a Wilhelminian style The example of the glassworks on the Wiltener Felder, which was opened in 1872 as an additional part of the Tyrolean Stained glass went into operation. Only 110 days after the start of construction, which was never officially authorised by the Wilten municipal administration, production began.
Starting with Neuhauser, who had to leave the company in 1874 due to health problems, the three company founders soon left their start-up to others, but remained partners in the Tyrolean stained glass company. In addition to their activities for the joint company, each of the three partners worked successfully on their own projects in their respective fields of activity.
Von Stadl had a lasting impact on Innsbruck. In its heyday, the number of employees at the stained glass factory had risen to over 70. In 1878, residential buildings for the company's employees, workers, artists and craftsmen were built according to von Stadl's plans. The Stained glass settlement comprised the houses at Müllerstrasse 39 - 57, Schöpfstrasse 18 - 24 and Speckbacherstrasse 14 - 16, which still exist today and differ markedly in their architecture from the neighbouring houses of the late Gründerzeit. Von Stadl was more sparing with the decoration of the houses, but was careful to include a small front garden. Workers and employees who lived in these houses were not supposed to feel inferior in any way to the residents of the cottage-style villas in Saggen. It was not unusual for large companies of the time to plan their own housing estates - think of Siemensstadt in Berlin - but it shows a company's self-image and vision for the future when a company like the Glasmalerei sees itself not only as a provider of labour and wages, but also as a provider of accommodation for its employees. The state maternity hospital in Wilten was another major project in Innsbruck that was realised under von Stadl's pen. After the construction of the Vinzentinum in 1878, he was made an honorary citizen and diocesan architect of Brixen. Pope Leo XIII awarded him the Order of St Gregory for his services. St Nicholas' Church, for which the Tyrolean stained glass company had produced the windows, became his final resting place.
Georg Mader continued to work as a painter on sacred buildings. He became a member of the Vienna Academy of Art as early as 1868. When he suffered a stroke in 1881, he was taken to Badgastein for rehabilitation. The spa town in Salzburg was a meeting place for the European aristocracy and upper middle classes at the time. In the midst of high society, the former journeyman miller died a wealthy man.
The restless and creative Neuhauser travelled to Venice again after resigning from his post as director of the Tyrolean stained glass workshop in order to found Austria's first mosaic studio with new inspiration. The merger of the two companies in 1900 opened up a wider range of opportunities. He was awarded the Order of Franz Joseph for his artistic merits. Neuhauserstraße in Wilten was named after him.