Adolf-Pichler-Platz

Adolf-Pichler-Platz

Worth knowing

Adolf-Pichler-Platz today is a vibrant mix of buildings from different eras and styles. To the north and west, late 19th-century townhouses frame the small park with its trees, playground equipment, and the Adolf Pichler monument. On the east side, the modern Rathausgalerien with their glass façades adjoin the Federal Secondary School. A narrow cycle lane runs alongside the hopelessly congested street and the perpetually full parking spaces. It is hard to imagine that until the 1860s, a cemetery stood here in the heart of the city. Since the 14th century, the open space outside the city walls, behind the former city hospital and its chapel, had been used as a burial ground complete with arcades and cloisters. Only with the opening of the West Cemetery were the often lavish honorary graves gradually relocated, along with their monuments and memorials, from the Neustadt to the Wiltener fields. When the city hospital moved westward to the outskirts 20 years later, the Innsbruck market expanded onto the vacant land, giving the square the name Neuer Markt (“New Market”). In 1878, the market stalls had to make way for the construction of the elegant row of houses at the northern end of the square. Spurred by economic growth, some of the city’s finest historicist buildings arose here during one of the earliest waves of urban expansion. At the corner of Stainerstraße stands a beautiful residential and commercial building in delicate pink. The adjoining building boasts a neo-Romanesque façade, above whose entrance portal sits the lion typical of this architectural style. Particularly noteworthy is the house built in the rare brick style for Innsbruck. Its bay window is adorned with classical statues, columns, and exuberant ornamentation, while capitals crown the windows. In 1890, the Federal Secondary School moved from today’s Boznerplatz into the vacated premises of the former hospital. Founded nearly 40 years earlier, it represented a science- and mathematics-oriented counterpart to the Jesuit Academic Gymnasium, which focused on the humanities. Instead of classical languages, practical subjects geared toward the modern professional world now took centre stage.

The Adolf Pichler monument in the centre of the square was created under Mayor Wilhelm Greil. The square had long borne the name Karl-Ludwig-Platz, after the Habsburg Archduke and governor in Innsbruck from 1855 to 1861. Just a year after Adolf Pichler’s death (1819–1900), a committee was formed in the typical late-monarchic fashion to commemorate this esteemed “German” citizen in public space. By then, the town hall had moved from the Old Town to Maria-Theresien-Straße. For the municipal council, Adolf Pichler offered the perfect canvas to project the spirit of the age onto the square behind the new town hall. The Innsbruck intellectual embodied the idealised 19th century for the councillors: a self-made man from the bourgeois middle class with liberal and German-national convictions, standing in contrast to the Habsburg Karl Ludwig. The design of the monument was entrusted to Edmund Klotz, a Tyrolean sculptor living in Vienna, who had already created the Greil family tomb at the West Cemetery 20 years earlier. He depicted Pichler in the then-typical hiker and mountaineer outfit, complete with hat, walking stick, and geologist’s hammer as crown and insignia. The monument was inaugurated with pomp and music in 1909. The renaming to Adolf-Pichler-Platz was only decided by the municipal council in 1930.

The upheavals of the decades following the monument’s unveiling did not spare the square. During World War I, the Federal Secondary School premises, like many schools and public institutions, were converted into a military hospital. A bombing raid in December 1944 damaged several buildings. The square, like Tivoli and Rapoldipark, was used by residents as a vegetable garden for self-sufficiency. After the 1960s, traffic conquered the link between the Old Town, Innrain, and Anichstraße. Only with the redesign and new playground in 1994 did Adolf-Pichler-Platz regain its appeal. A few years later came the most comprehensive renovation. The drab façade of the town hall on the west side and its courtyard, used as a car park and rebuilt in the late 1940s after wartime destruction, were extended with a modern section. French architect Dominique Perrault won a competition with his idea of blending municipal offices with shops and restaurants to create a public space. The glass roof of the Rathauspassage is by Daniel Buren, while the tower’s glass façade was designed by Peter Kogler. Construction between 2000 and 2002 progressed slowly, as remnants of the site’s past as a cemetery repeatedly came to light. The new town hall, complete with shopping centre and adjoining hotel, transformed the square entirely. Around the turn of the millennium, the Rathausgalerien—alongside the new Bergisel ski jump and the planned Nordkettenbahn—became another milestone on Innsbruck’s path to its self-proclaimed status as a “world city” through modern architecture. Since the 2000s, glass façades face the Gründerzeit houses. Today, visitors can relax in the park on the former cemetery under Adolf Pichler’s stern gaze or spend the evening in one of the bars. Wilhelm Greil, patron of the monument committee and himself a merchant and moderniser, would likely have approved of this development.

Adolf Pichler: vom Vormärz zum Mainstream

The nineteenth century transformed Innsbruck in many ways. Politics, administration, society, and structures of power and property changed significantly between the first half of the century—still heavily shaped by the wars up to 1815—and the second half, which entered European history as the bourgeois age. New professions and ways of life emerged. With diligence, skill, intelligence, and luck, individuals could advance further than ever before thanks to the expanding state education system. Liberal thinkers, who under Metternich’s system had been suspected of radicalism and whose writings were often subjected to censorship, were gradually able to express themselves somewhat more freely after 1848. The 1860s brought formal parliamentarianism, new municipal statutes, the Compromise with Hungary within the newly formed Austro‑Hungarian Monarchy, and Austria’s withdrawal from the German Confederation. Nationalism, which had previously been regarded among the German states as the avant-garde ideology of certain liberals and “radicals,” became a centrist political force.

In Innsbruck, the life of Adolf Pichler can be seen as representative of these developments. At the age of twelve, the son of a customs officer from Erl near Kufstein came to Innsbruck to begin his academic career at the Gymnasium. Under the guidance of the Jesuits—toward whom he would later develop a certain aversion—he embarked on his education in the spirit of classical humanism, gaining familiarity with ancient authors and their philosophies. Even as a teenager, he founded the association “Eiche und Buche” and published a literary weekly. During his studies in philosophy, law, and medicine in Innsbruck and Vienna, he read the works of then-modern thinkers such as Feuerbach, Hegel, and Fichte, some of whom were subject to censorship. He made use of the secret library—affectionately called the “poison cabinet”—of Johann Schuler, editor of the Tiroler Bote. He also became acquainted with liberal German writers such as Anastasius Grün and Heinrich Heine, who advocated the idea of a unified German nation instead of the fragmented structure of the German Confederation. Influenced by figures such as the English literary eccentric Lord Byron and the medieval Minnesinger Walther von der Vogelweide, Pichler developed a worldview that would eventually prevail among Innsbruck’s liberal circles toward the end of the nineteenth century: Tyrol as part of a broader German cultural nation. In 1845, Pichler came under the scrutiny of Metternich’s secret police. Together with other “radicals,” most notably Hermann von Gilm, he published the poetry collection Frühlingslieder aus Tirol, which fell victim to censorship. Although his own literary contributions were of limited quality, Pichler became a kind of intellectual catalyst for the Jungtiroler movement. He established himself as part of a subversive national-liberal literary scene in Tyrol, maintaining intellectual exchange through letters and newspapers with authors both within and beyond the region. His circle of colleagues and friends ranged from Tyrolean writers such as Adolf Flir, Johann Senn, and Beda Weber to figures like Grillparzer, Adalbert Stifter, and even Alexander von Humboldt.

In 1848, shortly after completing his medical studies in Vienna, Pichler took part in the fighting along Tyrol’s borders during the Italian wars of independence. He raised his own unit, the Academic Legion. Although students and professors fought alongside Habsburg troops in the defense of the borders, the authorities regarded Pichler’s activities with suspicion. His association with subversive circles and his politically engaged articles, poems, and plays hindered his academic career in the monarchy after the upheavals of 1848. Rejected by the university, he accepted a position teaching at a Gymnasium in Innsbruck, while continuing his work as a literary historian. Pichler devoted himself to documenting the history of Tyrolean literature and encouraged his students to collect plays and traditions from their respective home regions. In the spirit of 1848, he became an eager archivist of Tyrolean traditions, attempting to weave the past and inherited customs into a cohesive, nationally oriented—and distinctly Germanic—narrative. His own literary works, often imbued with national pathos, achieved only limited success. Apart from Rodrigo, a historical drama staged at the Innsbruck City Theatre, his plays failed to reach a wider audience. Set during the fall of the Visigothic kingdom in eighth-century Spain, the play serves as an allegory for Austria’s political situation after its withdrawal from the German Confederation. Rodrigo disappears from history following defeat in a decisive battle at the Guadalete River—a clear parallel to Königgrätz.

Somewhat disillusioned by the limited revolutionary impact in Austria after 1848 and the separation from the German Confederation in 1866, Pichler gradually turned from outspoken radical to a more quietly defiant intellectual and devoted himself to geology. On long journeys through the Alps, he gathered insights into his beloved homeland, following, in a modest way, in the footsteps of Alexander von Humboldt. In 1867, at nearly fifty years of age—despite never having formally studied the natural sciences—he was appointed professor of geology at the University of Innsbruck, thus bringing his academic career to a remarkable conclusion. He declined the position of rector, likely unwilling to pay the personal and political price it would have entailed. Reading Pichler’s writings today, one cannot help but notice the strong resemblance—in both language and themes of Germanness, truth, struggle, and hero worship—to the rhetoric later found in nationalist and völkisch movements of the early twentieth century. As an intellectual, critic, and commentator, Pichler significantly influenced the political climate in Innsbruck. His texts are rich with references to the Nibelungs, Valhalla, Wotan, sacrifice, and redemption. He continued to produce poems, plays, and emotional hymns late into his life, such as his Dietrich von Bern (1898):

Do you know Dietrich of Bern, Once held in chains? In anger he breathes fire— until iron melts like wax. Follow the example of your hero— never endure a foreign yoke— never accept as master the slave who once crawled before you.

His primary outlet was the sharply satirical and anti-clerical journal Der Scherer, published between 1899 and 1906. Its logo depicted a smiling elderly Tyrolean presenting a dead mole—symbolizing the clergy, often portrayed as a pest—to the viewer. Pichler also contributed to major newspapers and journals such as Die Presse, Wiener Zeitung, Augsburger Allgemeine, Gartenlaube, Odin, and Germania, consistently writing against both clerical authority and political power. While resolutely nationalist, he rejected the popular forms of antisemitism common at the time, as well as imperialism in all its forms—British, French, or German. He advocated the principle that all peoples and nations should govern themselves, and that culture and tradition deserved respect.

By the time the once “radical” public intellectual died in 1900, he had become a respected figure. His views had remained largely unchanged, but they had moved from the margins into the mainstream and were no longer censored—indeed, they were particularly valued in Innsbruck’s municipal politics under Mayor Wilhelm Greil. Liberal newspapers published effusive tributes. Karl Habermann, editor of Der Scherer, burned a pastoral letter by the Prince-Bishop of Brixen during a torchlight procession in Pichler’s honour—an act that led to legal proceedings. A special issue of Der Scherer, filled with poems and tributes by fellow writers and admirers, included a final farewell written by Pichler himself, in which he compared his pen to the sword of King Arthur. An obituary honoured the “old man” with the words:

“Tyrol, once a black clerical land, has through Pichler become a new centre of intellectual uprising, from which thousands of compatriots across all German regions draw the torch to ignite the sacred flame in their own homes.”

Other publications such as Odin—a militant organ of the pan-German movement—and the Ostdeutsche Rundschau also celebrated the Tyrolean hero. Writers like Franz Kranewitter (1860–1938), Rudolf Greinz (1866–1942), Heinrich von Schullern (1865–1955), and Arthur von Wallpach (1866–1946) carried forward Pichler’s intellectual legacy as part of the Jung-Tirol movement—first in Der Scherer and later in Der Föhn. They were united by shared experiences: Austria’s withdrawal from the German Confederation, the declining power of the Habsburg monarchy, and the loss of southern Tyrolean territories. Their blend of liberalism—partly anti-clerical, partly infused with martial imagery—combined with a strong emphasis on homeland and Tyrolean identity, remained popular both after the First World War and during the National Socialist period. Works such as Kranewitter’s Andreas Hofer and Wallpach’s poetry collections with titles like Tyrolean Blood or We Break Through Death! allowed various political movements to appropriate their messages. Just one year after Pichler’s death, a committee was formed to erect a monument in his honour, chaired by Mayor Greil. Since 1930, Adolf-Pichler-Platz—where his bronze statue stands—has borne his name. Streets in Amras and Pradl commemorate his successors Greinz, Schullern, Kranewitter, and Renk. A memorial plaque adorns Pichler’s former residence in Müllerstraße, decorated with a Tyrolean eagle, laurel wreath, and oak leaves, bearing the inscription: “To the German poet Adolf Pichler – from the Land of Tyrol.”

Klingler, Huter, Retter & Co: master builders of expansion

The final decades of the 19th century became known in Austrian history as the Gründerzeit (Founders’ Era). After the economic crisis of 1873, the financial situation recovered and an unprecedented construction boom began. Innsbruck also established a modern banking system. Financial institutions such as the Savings Bank founded in 1821 and the Creditanstalt, whose building erected in 1910 still towers over Maria-Theresien-Straße like a small palace, made it possible to obtain loans, without which entrepreneurship and commerce as we know them today would not have been possible. In some cases, these financial institutions even acted as developers themselves. Between 1880 and 1900, Innsbruck’s population grew from 20,000 to 26,000 inhabitants, while Wilten, incorporated into the city in 1904, even tripled its population from 4,000 to 12,000. The number of buildings increased from 600 to more than 900. Most of them, unlike previous buildings, were multi-story apartment houses. Infrastructure was also modernized. Gas, running water, and electricity became part of everyday life for an increasing number of people. These buildings represented the new society. Entrepreneurs, professionals, employees, and workers had different needs than the legally dependent subjects of previous centuries. The urban lifestyle demanded apartments with several rooms and open spaces for recreation after working hours. Apartment buildings made a modern lifestyle possible even for people who did not own property. Unlike the rural regions of Tyrol, where farming families lived together with servants in farmhouses as part of an extended kinship community, life in the city was already quite close to our present-day understanding of family life. Although the upper middle class had not yet surpassed the nobility, it had reduced the gap considerably and, through its new position on the municipal council, was able not only to commission private building projects but also to decide on public construction projects. The old city hospital in the center of town was replaced by a modern hospital in the west; Sieberer’s orphanage and retirement home were established in Saggen, and a new urban center emerged around the railway station.

The forty years preceding the First World War were a gold rush era for the construction industry. The architecture of the buildings reflected the worldview of their owners. Master builders often assumed several roles and frequently replaced architects altogether. Most clients had very clear ideas about what they wanted. They were not seeking breathtaking new creations but rather copies of or adaptations based on existing buildings. In keeping with the spirit of the age, Innsbruck’s master builders designed structures according to the wishes of their financially powerful clients in the styles of Historicism, Classicism, and the Tyrolean Heimatstil. The style chosen for a home was often not merely an aesthetic decision but also an ideological statement by the owner. Liberals generally preferred Classicism, while conservatives were drawn to the Tyrolean Heimatstil. Whereas the Heimatstil presented itself in a Neo-Baroque form with abundant paintings, clear forms, statues, and columns were characteristic elements of Classical-inspired architecture. In what was sometimes a rather wild mixture of styles, people realized their ideas of classical Greece and ancient Rome. Not only railway stations and public buildings but also large apartment buildings, entire streets, churches, and even cemeteries were built along former country roads in this design. Academics—and those wishing to appear as such—demonstrated their fascination with antiquity through neoclassical façades. Catholic traditionalists commissioned murals depicting saints and scenes from Tyrolean history on their Heimatstil houses. While Neoclassicism predominates in Saggen and Wilten, the district of Pradl is largely characterized by conservative Heimatstil architecture. For a long time, many architectural experts looked down upon the tastes of social climbers and the newly rich. Heinrich Hammer wrote in his standard work Art History of the City of Innsbruck:

"Of course, this first rapid expansion of the city took place in an era that was unfruitful in terms of architectural art, in which architecture, instead of developing an independent, contemporary style, repeated the architectural styles of the past one after the other."

The era of grand villas, which imitated the aristocratic residences of former times with a bourgeois touch, came to an end after several exuberant decades simply because space became scarce. Further development of the city with detached houses was no longer possible. Even today, the area around Falkstraße, Gänsbachstraße, and Bienerstraße is known as Villensaggen, while the areas further east are referred to as Blocksaggen. Wilten and Pradl, however, never experienced this kind of development. Nevertheless, in their gold-rush enthusiasm, developers sealed ever more land with construction. In 1907, Albert Gruber delivered a warning speech about this growth, cautioning against unchecked urban expansion and land speculation.

"It is the most difficult and responsible task facing our city fathers. Up until the 1980s (note: 1880), let's say in view of our circumstances, a certain slow pace was maintained in urban expansion. Since the last 10 years, however, it can be said that cityscapes have been expanding at a tremendous pace. Old houses are being torn down and new ones erected in their place. Of course, if this demolition and construction is carried out haphazardly, without any thought, only for the benefit of the individual, then disasters, so-called architectural crimes, usually occur. In order to prevent such haphazard building, which does not benefit the general public, every city must ensure that individuals cannot do as they please: the city must set a limit to unrestricted speculation in the area of urban expansion. This includes above all land speculation."

A handful of master builders, together with the Innsbruck Building Authority, guided this development. If Wilhelm Greil can be called the mayor of Innsbruck’s expansion, then the Vienna-born Eduard Klingler (1861–1916) certainly deserves the title of its architect. As a public official and master builder, Klingler left a profound mark on Innsbruck’s cityscape. He began working for the Province of Tyrol in 1883. In 1889 he joined the municipal building authority, which he headed from 1902 onward. Among the projects attributed to Klingler as head of the building authority are the Commercial Academy, the Leitgeb School, Pradl Cemetery, the Dermatological Clinic within the hospital complex, the Municipal Kindergarten on Michael-Gaismair-Straße, the Train Barracks (today a residential building), the Market Hall, and the Tyrolean State Conservatory. One particularly noteworthy Heimatstil building designed by him is the Ulrich House on Bergisel, which today serves as the headquarters of the Old Kaiserjäger Club.

The most important construction company in Innsbruck was Johann Huter & Sons. Johann Huter took over his father’s brickworks. In 1856 he acquired the company’s first property, the Huter Grounds, on Innrain. Three years later the first business headquarters was established on Meranerstraße. The company’s official founding came in 1860 when it was registered together with his sons Josef and Peter. Like many of its competitors, Huter & Sons saw itself as a full-service provider. The company included its own brickworks, cement factory, carpentry shop, metal workshop, design office, and construction firm. By the outbreak of the First World War, it employed more than 700 people. In 1906/07, the Huter family built their residential and business headquarters at Kaiser-Josef-Straße 15 in the typical style of the late pre-war years. This stately house combines the Tyrolean Heimatstil, surrounded by gardens and nature, with Neo-Gothic and Neo-Romanesque elements. Well-known buildings erected by Huter & Sons in Innsbruck include the Monastery of Perpetual Adoration, St. Nicholas Parish Church, the first building of the new hospital complex, and several buildings on Claudiaplatz.

The second major player was Josef Retter (1872–1954). Born in Lower Austria with Tyrolean roots, he completed an apprenticeship as a mason before attending the Imperial-Royal State Trade School in Vienna and the master craftsman school of its construction department. After gaining professional experience throughout the Habsburg Monarchy—in Vienna, Croatia, and Bolzano—he was able, thanks to his wife’s dowry, to establish his own construction company in Innsbruck at the age of 29. Like Huter’s company, his enterprise also included a sawmill, a sand and gravel works, and a stonemasonry workshop. In 1904 he built his residential and office building. The dark Neo-Gothic Retter House at Schöpfstraße 23a, with its distinctive bay window supported by columns and a turret, is decorated with a remarkable mosaic representing an allegory of architecture. The relief on the gable depicts the union of art and craftsmanship, symbolizing Retter’s career path. Retter’s buildings particularly shaped Wilten and Saggen. Through projects such as the new Academic Gymnasium, the castle-like Commercial Academy building, the Protestant Christ Church in Saggen, the Zelger House on Anichstraße, Sonnenburg in Wilten, and the Neo-Gothic Mentlberg Castle in Sieglanger, he created many of the most important buildings of this era in Innsbruck.

Late in life but with a similarly practice-orientated background that was typical of 19th century master builders, Anton Fritz started his construction company in 1888. He grew up remotely in Graun in the Vinschgau Valley. After working as a foreman, plasterer and bricklayer, he decided to attend the trade school in Innsbruck at the age of 36. Talent and luck brought him his breakthrough as a planner with the country-style villa at Karmelitergasse 12. In its heyday, his construction company employed 150 people. In 1912, shortly before the outbreak of the First World War and the resulting slump in the construction industry, he handed over his company to his son Adalbert. Anton Fritz's legacy includes his own home at Müllerstraße 4, the Mader house in Glasmalereistraße and houses on Claudiaplatz and Sonnenburgplatz.

With Carl Kohnle, Carl Albert, Karl Lubomirski, and Simon Tommasi, Innsbruck possessed several other master builders who left their mark on the cityscape through typical buildings of the late 19th century. Together, they shaped Innsbruck’s new streets in the prevailing architectural spirit of the final thirty years of the Habsburg Monarchy. Residential houses, railway stations, government buildings, and churches throughout the vast empire stretching from Ukraine to Tyrol looked remarkably similar. New movements such as Art Nouveau gained acceptance only slowly. In Innsbruck, it was the Munich architect Josef Bachmann who introduced a new accent to bourgeois design with the redesign of the façade of the Winkler House. With the outbreak of the First World War, construction activity largely ceased. After the war, the era of neoclassical Historicism and the Heimatstil was definitively over. Times had become harsher, and the requirements for housing had changed. In the period of severe housing shortages in the young Republic of German-Austria, affordable housing and modern sanitary facilities became more important than representative façades and grand rooms. The increasingly professional education of master builders and architects at the Imperial-Royal State Trade School also contributed to a new understanding of construction, replacing the often self-taught veterans of the gold-rush era of Classicism. A stroll through Saggen and parts of Wilten and Pradl still transports visitors back to the Gründerzeit. Claudiaplatz and Sonnenburgplatz are among the most impressive examples. The construction company Huter & Sons still exists today. The company is now located in Sieglanger on Josef-Franz-Huter-Straße, named after its founder. Although the residential building on Kaiser-Josef-Straße no longer bears the company’s name, it remains, in all its opulence, a remarkable relic of the period that permanently transformed Innsbruck’s appearance. In addition to his residence on Schöpfstraße, the district of Wilten contains a second building associated with the Retter family. Opposite the university on Innrain stands Villa Retter. Josef Retter’s eldest daughter, Maria Josefa, who herself had been educated according to the principles of the reform educator Maria Montessori, opened Innsbruck’s first Haus des Kindes (“House of the Child”) in 1932. Above the entrance, a portrait depicts the benefactor Josef Retter. The south façade is adorned with a mosaic in the characteristic style of the 1930s, referring to the building’s original purpose. A smiling blond girl embraces her mother, who is holding a book, and her father, who carries a hammer. The family crypt at Westfriedhof Cemetery is another notable legacy of the Retter family.

Wilhelm Greil: DER Bürgermeister Innsbrucks

Einer der wichtigsten Akteure der Innsbrucker Stadtgeschichte war Wilhelm Greil (1850 – 1928). Von 1896 bis 1923 bekleidete der Unternehmer das Amt des Bürgermeisters, nachdem er vorher bereits als Vizebürgermeister die Geschicke der Stadt mitgestaltet hatte. Sein Wirken war nicht nur lange, sondern fand auch in einer besonders dynamischen Zeit statt. Die vier Jahrzehnte zwischen der Wirtschaftskrise 1873 und dem Ersten Weltkrieg von einem nie dagewesenen Wachstum und einer rasenden Modernisierung gekennzeichnet. Es war die Zeit der Eingemeindung ganzer Stadtviertel, technischer Innovationen und neuer Medien. Private Investitionen in Infrastruktur wie Eisenbahn, Energie und Strom waren vom Staat gewünscht und wurden steuerlich begünstigt, um die Länder und Städte der kränkelnden Donaumonarchie in die Moderne zu führen. Die Wirtschaft der Stadt boomte. Betriebe in den neuen Stadtteilen Pradl und Wilten entstanden und lockten Arbeitskräfte an. Auch der Tourismus brachte frisches Kapital in die Stadt.

The political landscape of the late Austro-Hungarian Monarchy was, broadly speaking, shaped by liberal nationalist parties representing the various ethnic groups of the multi-ethnic empire, as well as by conservatives and social democrats. The Catholic conservative party had already lost influence and was considered outdated, retaining support mainly among the petty bourgeoisie and farmers, but in Tyrol it formed a bloc with the reform Catholic Christian Socials. Social Democrats, Christian Socials, and German Nationalists can, in a sense, be seen as the precursors of today’s parliamentary parties SPÖ, ÖVP, and FPÖ. Innsbruck’s municipal council was long dominated by the liberal and Greater German-oriented “German People’s Party,” to which Greil also belonged. What appears contradictory today—being both liberal and nationalist—was a common and functional pairing of ideas in the 19th century. Pan-Germanism was not a political peculiarity of a right-wing extremist minority; rather, especially in German-speaking cities of the empire, it was a centrist current that retained influence in varying forms across almost all parties well into the post-Second World War period. Anyone examining newspaper articles from around the turn of the century will find countless pieces emphasizing the commonalities between the German Empire and the German-speaking territories. Innsbruck residents who prided themselves referred to themselves not as Austrians but as Germans. Only after the incorporation of Wilten and Pradl in 1904 were conservatives able to make gains, though not enough to catch up entirely. Social democracy played hardly any role before 1918. Due to an electoral system based on property classes, only about 10% of Innsbruck’s population was entitled to vote, while women were fundamentally excluded. Within the three electoral bodies, a majority voting system applied—essentially meaning: the winner takes it all. Mayor Greil lived, fittingly, in a manner similar to a Renaissance prince. He came from the upper class of the large bourgeoisie. His father could afford to establish the family’s home base in the Palais Lodron on Maria-Theresien-Straße. Thanks to this electoral system, Mayor Greil could rely on 100% support in the municipal council until the period of the First Republic, which naturally made decision-making and governance considerably easier. Despite the apparent efficiency displayed by Innsbruck’s mayors at first glance, one should not forget that this was only possible because, as part of an elite of entrepreneurs, merchants, and professionals, they governed without significant opposition and without consideration for other population groups such as workers, craftsmen, and employees—in what might be described as an elected dictatorship. The Imperial Municipal Act of 1862 granted cities like Innsbruck, and thus their mayors, greater powers. It is hardly surprising that the chain of office presented to Greil on his 60th birthday by his colleagues in the municipal council closely resembled the chains of orders of the old nobility. Nevertheless, Greil was also a skillful politician who navigated the power structures and media landscape of his time with great adeptness. Article 17 of the Austrian Basic Law of 1867, also known as the December Constitution, guaranteed freedom of expression in the press for the first time without prior censorship—excluding criminal offenses such as blasphemy or insults to the authorities, of course. As a result, a wide range of newspapers emerged, such as the conservative Neue Tiroler Stimme, the social democratic Volkszeitung, and the liberal Innsbrucker Nachrichten, each shaping a worldview in line with the preferences of their publishers. Thanks to the reach of the Innsbrucker Nachrichten, Wilhelm Greil was able to promote his views. Despite sometimes vehement speeches inspired by the program of the German nationalist founding figure Georg Ritter von Schönerer (1842–1921), he managed to come to terms with conservative forces in the region, even though conflicts were often fierce, especially in the media. Issues such as taxation, social policy, education, housing, and the design of public spaces were debated with passion and zeal—often with violence as the ultimate argument.

Under Greil’s leadership and fueled by the general economic upswing driven by private investment, Innsbruck expanded at a rapid pace. Acting in a forward-looking manner like a merchant, the municipal council acquired land in anticipation of future developments. As a politician, Greil was able to rely on civil servants and urban planners such as Eduard Klingler, Jakob Albert, and Theodor Prachensky for the major construction projects of the time. Infrastructure projects such as the new town hall on Maria-Theresien-Straße in 1897, the opening of the Mittelgebirgsbahn, the Hungerburg Funicular, and the Karwendel Railway were implemented during his tenure. Other visible milestones included the redesign of the marketplace and the construction of the market hall. Alongside these prestigious large-scale projects, however, many inconspicuous revolutions took place in the final decades of the 19th century. Much of what was advanced in the second half of the century is now part of everyday life, but for people at the time these changes were sensational and life-changing. Greil’s predecessor, Mayor Heinrich Falk (1840–1917), had already contributed significantly to the modernization of the city and the development of the Saggen district. Since 1859, the expansion of gas pipeline lighting in the city had progressed steadily. With urban growth and modernization, cesspits—used as latrines in building courtyards and emptied and sold to nearby farmers as fertilizer—became unacceptable to an increasing number of residents. In 1880, the emptying of these latrines, colloquially known as “Raggeln,” was transferred to municipal responsibility. Two pneumatic machines were intended to make the process at least somewhat more hygienic. Between 1887 and 1891, Innsbruck was equipped with a modern high-pressure water supply system, which made it possible to supply even upper-floor apartments with fresh water. Those who could afford it now had the opportunity to install flush toilets in their homes for the first time. Greil continued this campaign of modernization with numerous infrastructure projects. The growing concentration of people in increasingly confined spaces, often under precarious hygienic conditions, brought many problems. The city’s outskirts and surrounding villages were regularly plagued by typhus. After decades of discussion, construction of a modern sewer system began in 1903. Starting from the city center, more and more districts were connected to what is now a commonplace utility. By 1908, only the districts of Mariahilf and St. Nikolaus—nicknamed “Koatlackler”—remained unconnected. The new slaughterhouse in Saggen also improved hygiene and cleanliness in the city. Poorly controlled private slaughtering largely became a thing of the past. Livestock arrived by train at Sillspitz and was professionally processed in the modern facility. Greil brought the gasworks in Pradl and the power plant in Mühlau into municipal ownership. Street lighting was converted from gas lamps to electric light in the 20th century. In 1888, the hospital was relocated from Maria-Theresien-Straße to its current site. During this “Innsbruck Renaissance,” the mayor and municipal council were supported not only by the growing economic strength of the pre-war years but also by patrons from the bourgeoisie. While technical innovations and infrastructure were the domain of the liberals, care for the poorest remained in the hands of clerically oriented forces—though no longer directly with the Church itself. Baron Johann von Sieberer donated the old people’s home and orphanage in Saggen. Leonhard Lang donated the building on Maria-Theresien-Straße—where the town hall is still located today—in return for the city’s promise to build an apprentice residence.

In contrast to the booming pre-war era, Greil’s leadership after 1914 was marked by crisis management. In his final years in office, he guided Innsbruck through the transition from the Habsburg monarchy to the republic—a time characterized above all by hunger, hardship, scarcity of resources, and insecurity. He was 68 years old when Tyrol was divided at the Brenner Pass after the war. During his political career, Greil had often exploited general hostility toward Italians (“Walsche”) in a similarly populist manner to his Christian Social counterpart in Vienna, Karl Lueger, who used antisemitic rhetoric. At the end of his career, he had to witness the Italian occupation of Innsbruck. With the introduction of the republic, the census-based voting system was abolished, marking the beginning of the end of liberal dominance in the municipal council. In 1919, the Social Democrats won elections in Innsbruck for the first time. Only due to council majorities and a coalition of Greater German-liberal and conservative-clerical politicians did Greil remain mayor. He died in 1928 at the age of 78 as an honorary citizen of the city of Innsbruck. Wilhelm-Greil-Straße had already been named after him during his lifetime.

The First World War

An Innsbruck student nearly changed the course of world history instead of Gavrilo Princip. In 1913, the young man boasted to a waitress about his plans to shoot the heir to the throne, but he was arrested before he could carry them out. Only when the world-changing shots were actually fired in Sarajevo a year later did an article appear in the Innsbrucker Nachrichten on June 30 about the events. The consequences that the First World War, which subsequently broke out, would have for the world and for people's everyday lives could not yet be foreseen after the assassination of Franz Ferdinand on June 28. Two days after the murder of the Habsburg heir in Sarajevo, readers in Innsbruck were already reading prophetic words in their newspaper: “We have arrived at a turning point – perhaps the turning point – in the destiny of this empire.” In Innsbruck, too, enthusiasm for war was widespread in 1914. Driven by the slogan of the time, “God, Emperor, and Fatherland,” the vast majority of people unanimously welcomed the attack on Serbia. Politicians, the clergy, and the press fuelled the general jubilation. Particularly “deserving” in promoting the war were the two theologians Joseph Seeber (1856–1919) and Anton Müllner, known as Brother Willram (1870–1919), who, through their sermons and writings such as The Bloody Year, elevated the war into a crusade against France and Italy. In addition to the imperial proclamation To My Peoples, which appeared throughout the media of the Empire, the Innsbrucker Nachrichten published an article on July 29, the day after Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia, about Prince Eugene's capture of Belgrade in 1717. The tone in the media was celebratory, although not entirely without dark forebodings of what was to come.

"The Emperor's appeal to his people will be deeply felt. The internal strife has been silenced and the speculations of our enemies about unrest and similar things have been miserably put to shame. Above all, the Germans stand by the Emperor and the Empire in their old and well-tried loyalty: this time, too, they are ready to stand up for dynasty and fatherland with their blood. We are facing difficult days; no one can even guess what fate will bring us, what it will bring to Europe, what it will bring to the world. We can only trust with our old Emperor in our strength and in God and cherish the confidence that, if we find unity and stick together, we must be granted victory, for we did not want war and our cause is that of justice!"

Many Innsbruck residents volunteered for the campaign against Serbia, which was believed to be a matter of only a few weeks or months. So many volunteers poured into Innsbruck from outside the city to report to the recruitment commissions that the city was almost bursting at the seams. No one could imagine how differently things would turn out. After the first battles in distant Galicia, it became clear that this would not be over within a few months. The Imperial Riflemen (Kaiserjäger) and other Tyrolean troops were effectively sacrificed. Poor equipment, inadequate supplies, and the catastrophic leadership of the High Command under Conrad von Hötzendorf led thousands either to their deaths or into captivity, where hunger, abuse, and forced labour awaited them. In 1915, Italy entered the war on the side of France and Britain. Under the infamous secret Treaty of London, the young kingdom had been promised generous territorial gains in return for supporting the Entente against Germany and Austria. On May 23, the former ally declared war on the Habsburg Empire. Until regular troops could be transferred from the Eastern Front, regional defence depended on the Standschützen, a force consisting of men under 21, over 42, or those deemed unfit for regular military service. Correspondingly, casualties were high. Fighting in the mountain war stretched from the Ortler in the west across the northern shore of Lake Garda to the Sexten Dolomites. Innsbruck itself was not directly affected by military operations. At the very least, however, the sounds of war could be heard in the provincial capital, as reported in the newspaper of July 7, 1915:

“Soon after the Italians commenced hostilities, cannon fire could clearly be heard in the region of the Serles peak, coming from one of the battlefields in southern Tyrol, probably the Vielgereut plateau. In recent days, the sound of artillery fire has also undoubtedly been detected in Innsbruck itself and in the northeastern parts of the city — individual powerful blasts, dull rather than rolling and resonant, echoing across the Brenner Pass. There can be no mistake. In Innsbruck itself, the thunder of the guns is more difficult to detect because of the noise of the city, but on one occasion, around 9 p.m., when there was some degree of quiet, this unmistakable thunder, originating from our mortars, was clearly heard.”

Although the front was far away, the war increasingly penetrated civilian life. This total involvement of society in warfare was a new phenomenon. The mass mobilization of a large proportion of the working male population brought many businesses to a complete standstill. Shop shelves remained empty, public transport services ceased, and craftsmen and labourers were called up for military service. Companies still able to operate were subordinated to the wartime economy. By the “Hunger Winter” of 1917, Innsbruck’s economy had almost completely collapsed. Food, coal, and firewood were in short supply, and hunger and cold became bitter enemies of women, children, the wounded, and those unfit for military service. During the final years of the war, provisions were distributed through ration cards. The basic weekly allowance per person amounted to 500 grams of meat, 60 grams of butter, and 2 kilograms of potatoes. Archive photographs show long queues of desperate and hungry people outside food shops. Protests and strikes repeatedly broke out. Politicians, trade unionists, workers, and returning soldiers saw an opportunity for change. Under the slogan “Peace, Bread, and Suffrage,” parties of many different political backgrounds united in opposition to the war. The cityscape also changed. Barracks were erected in Höttinger Au to house prisoners of war. Wounded soldiers arrived in such large numbers that civilian buildings, including the university library then under construction and Ambras Castle, were converted into military hospitals. A predecessor of today’s Tram Line 3 was established to transport the wounded from the railway station to the new garrison hospital, today’s Conrad Barracks in Pradl. To cope with the large number of fallen soldiers, the Pradl Military Cemetery was created.

As the war neared its end, the front also drew closer. In February 1918, the Italian air force succeeded in dropping three bombs on Innsbruck. The Neue Freie Presse reported for the first time on the secret Treaty of London, heightening Tyrolean anxiety over the threatened loss of territory south of the Brenner Pass. By then, most people already knew the war was lost and sensed the fate that awaited Tyrol, as this article of October 6, 1918, demonstrates:

“External and internal enemies are gambling today with the land of Andreas Hofer. The latest throw of the dice is even more cruel; never before has a free land been bartered away so disgracefully. The blood of our fathers, sons, and brothers has been shed in vain if this shameful plan becomes reality. The final throw has not yet been made. Therefore, Tyroleans, attend the Tyrolean People’s Assembly in Brixen on October 13, 1918 (next Sunday). German soil must remain German; Tyrolean soil must remain Tyrolean. Tyroleans, decide your own future!”

On November 4, Austria-Hungary and the Kingdom of Italy finally agreed to an armistice. Part of the agreement granted Italy the right to occupy territory of the monarchy. Alarm bells immediately rang among Austria-Hungary’s allies in the German Empire. On the very next day, Bavarian troops entered Innsbruck. Germany was still at war with Italy and feared that the front might shift into North Tyrol, bringing it closer to German territory. Fortunately for Innsbruck and the surrounding region, Germany also capitulated one week later on November 11. As a result, major military engagements between regular armies were avoided.

Nevertheless, Innsbruck remained in danger. Massive convoys of military vehicles, trains packed with soldiers, and thousands of exhausted troops making their way home on foot passed through the city. Anyone who could jumped onto overcrowded trains or military vehicles to leave the front behind and return home. In November 1918 alone, more than 270 soldiers lost their lives during these reckless attempts or had to be admitted to one of the city’s hospitals. The city not only had to maintain order among its own citizens and ensure food supplies but also protect itself against looting. To preserve public order, the Tyrolean National Council established a citizens’ militia on November 5 composed of pupils, students, workers, and ordinary citizens. On November 23, 1918, Italian troops occupied the city and its surroundings. More than 80,000 Italian soldiers were stationed in Tyrol, around 5,000 of whom required accommodation in the starving and destitute city. Schools were turned into barracks. Mayor Greil’s conciliatory appeal to surrender the city peacefully succeeded. There were isolated disturbances, food riots, and incidents of looting, but there were no armed clashes with the occupation troops and no Bolshevik revolution such as the one that occurred in Munich.

The consequences of the First World War for Innsbruck’s population were devastating. More than 1,200 people lost their lives on battlefields or in military hospitals, while approximately 600 were wounded. Memorials to the First World War and its victims can be found throughout Innsbruck, particularly at churches and cemeteries. The Kaiserjäger Museum on Bergisel displays uniforms, weapons, and photographs from the war. The theologians Anton Müllner and Josef Seeber have streets named after them in Innsbruck. A street was also named after Archduke Eugene, commander-in-chief of the Austro-Hungarian Army on the Southern Front. A monument to the unsuccessful military leader stands in front of the Hofgarten. The eastern section of the Amras Military Cemetery commemorates the Italian occupation.

Risen from the ruins

Nach Kriegsende kontrollierten US-Truppen für zwei Monate Tirol. Anschließend übernahm die Siegermacht Frankreich die Verwaltung. Den Tirolern blieb die sowjetische Besatzung, die über Ostösterreich hereinbrach, erspart. Besonders in den ersten drei Nachkriegsjahren war der Hunger der größte Feind der Menschen. Der Mai 1945 brachte nicht nur das Kriegsende, sondern auch Schnee. Der Winter 1946/47 ging als besonders kalt und lang in die Tiroler Klimageschichte ein, der Sommer als besonders heiß und trocken. Es kam zu Ernteausfällen von bis zu 50%. Die Versorgungslage war vor allem in der Stadt in der unmittelbaren Nachkriegszeit katastrophal. Die tägliche Nahrungsmittelbeschaffung wurde zur lebensgefährlichen Sorge im Alltag der Innsbrucker. Neben den eigenen Bürgern mussten auch tausende von Displaced PersonsThe Tyrolean government had to feed a large number of people, freed forced labourers and occupying soldiers. To accomplish this task, the Tyrolean provincial government had to rely on outside help. The chairman of the UNRRA (Note: United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration), which supplied war zones with essentials, Fiorello La Guardia counted Austria "to those peoples of the world who are closest to starvation." Milk, bread, eggs, sugar, flour, fat - there was too little of everything. The French occupation was unable to meet the demand for the required kilocalories per capita, as the local population and the emergency services often lacked supplies. Until 1946, they even took goods from the Tyrolean economy.

Die Lebensmittelversorgung erfolgte schon wenige Wochen nach Kriegsende über Lebensmittelkarten. Erwachsene mussten eine Bestätigung des Arbeitsamtes vorlegen, um an diese Karten zu kommen. Die Rationen unterschieden sich je nach Kategorie der Arbeiter. Schwerstarbeiter, Schwangere und stillende Mütter erhielten Lebensmittel im „Wert“ von 2700 Kalorien. Handwerker mit leichten Berufen, Beamte und Freiberufler erhielten 1850 Kilokalorien, Angestellte 1450 Kalorien. Hausfrauen und andere „Normalverbraucher“ konnten nur 1200 Kalorien beziehen. Zusätzlich gab es Initiativen wie Volksküchen oder Ausspeisungen für Schulkinder, die von ausländischen Hilfsorganisationen übernommen wurden. Aus Amerika kamen Carepakete von der Wohlfahrtsorganisation Cooperative for American Remittances to Europe. Many children were sent to foster homes in Switzerland in the summer to regain their strength and put a few extra kilos on their ribs.

However, all these measures were not enough for everyone. Housewives and other "normal consumers" in particular suffered from the low allocations. Despite the risk of being arrested, many Innsbruck residents travelled to the surrounding villages to hoard. Those who had money paid sometimes utopian prices to the farmers. Those who had none had to beg for food. In extreme cases, women whose husbands had been killed, captured or were missing saw no other way out than to prostitute themselves. These women, especially the unfortunate ones who became pregnant, had to endure the worst abuse for themselves and their offspring. Austria was still 30 years away from legalised abortion.

Politicians were largely powerless in the face of this. Even in normal times, it was impossible to pacify all interests. Many decisions between the parliament in Vienna, the Tyrolean provincial parliament and Innsbruck town hall were incomprehensible to the people. While children had to do without fruit and vitamins, some farmers legally distilled profitable schnapps. Official buildings and commercial enterprises were given free rein by the Innsbruck electricity company, while private households were restricted access to electricity at several times of the day from October 1945. The same disadvantage for households compared to businesses applied to the supply of coal. The old rifts between town and country grew wider and more hateful. Innsbruckers accused the surrounding population of deliberately withholding food for the black market. There were robberies, thefts and woodcutting. Transports at the railway station were guarded by armed units. Obtaining food from a camp was both illegal and commonplace. Children and young people roamed the city hungry and took every opportunity to get something to eat or fuel. The first Tyrolean governor Gruber, himself an illegal member of the resistance during the war, understood the situation of the people who rebelled against the system, but was unable to do anything about it. The mayor of Innsbruck, Anton Melzer, also had his hands tied. Not only was it difficult to reconcile the needs of all interest groups, there were repeated cases of corruption and favours to relatives and acquaintances among the civil servants. Gruber's successor in the provincial governor's chair, Alfons Weißgatterer, had to survive several small riots when popular anger was vented and stones were thrown in the direction of the Landhaus. Tiroler Tageszeitung. The paper was founded in 1945 under the administration of the US armed forces for the purposes of democratisation and denazification, but was transferred the following year to Schlüssel GmbH under the management of ÖVP politician Joseph Moser. Thanks to the high circulation and its almost direct influence on the content, the Tyrolean provincial government was able to steer the public mood:

Are the broken windows that clattered from the country house into the street yesterday suitable arguments to prove our will to rebuild? Shouldn't we remember that economic difficulties have never been resolved by demonstrations and rallies in any country?

The housing situation was at least as bad. An estimated 30,000 Innsbruck residents were homeless, living in cramped conditions with relatives or in shanty towns such as the former labour camp in Reichenau, the shanty town for displaced persons from the former German territories of Europe, popularly known as the "Ausländerlager", or the "Ausländerlager". Bocksiedlung. Weniges erinnert noch an den desaströsen Zustand, in dem sich Innsbruck nach den Luftangriffen der letzten Kriegsjahre in den ersten Nachkriegsjahren befand. Zehntausende Bürger halfen mit, Schutt und Trümmer von den Straßen zu schaffen. Die Maria-Theresien-Straße, die Museumstraße, das Bahnhofsviertel, Wilten oder die Pradlerstraße wären wohl um einiges ansehnlicher, hätte man nicht die Löcher im Straßenbild schnell stopfen müssen, um so schnell als möglich Wohnraum für die vielen Obdachlosen und Rückkehrer zu schaffen. Ästhetik aber war ein Luxus, den man sich in dieser Situation nicht leisten konnte. Die ausgezehrte Bevölkerung benötigte neuen Wohnraum, um den gesundheitsschädlichen Lebensbedingungen, in denen Großfamilien teils in Einraumwohnungen einquartiert waren, zu entfliehen.

"The emergency situation jeopardises the comfort of the home. It eats away at the roots of joie de vivre. No one suffers more than the woman whose happiness is to see a contented, cosy family circle around her. What a strain on mental strength is required by the daily gruelling struggle for a little shopping, the hardship of queuing, the disappointment of rejections and refusals and the look of discouragement on the faces of loved ones tormented by deprivation."

What is in the Tiroler Tageszeitung was only part of the harsh reality of everyday life. As after the First World War, when the Spanish flu claimed many victims, there was also an increase in dangerous infections in 1945. Vaccines against tuberculosis could not be delivered in the first winter. Hospital beds were also in short supply. Even though the situation eased after 1947, living conditions in Tyrol remained precarious. It took years before there were any noticeable improvements. Food rationing was discontinued on 1 July 1953. In the same year, Mayor Greiter was able to announce that all the buildings destroyed during the air raids had been repaired.

This was also thanks to the occupying forces. The French troops under Emile Bethouart behaved very mildly and co-operatively towards the former enemy and were friendly and open-minded towards the Tyrolean culture and population. Initially hostile towards the occupying power - yet another war had been lost - the scepticism of the people of Innsbruck gradually gave way. The soldiers were particularly popular with the children because of the chocolates and sweets they handed out. Many people were given jobs within the French administration. Thanks to the uniformed soldiers, many a Tyrolean saw of the 4th Moroccan Mountain Division, die bis September 1945 den Großteil der Soldaten stellten, zum ersten Mal dunkelhäutige Menschen. Die Besatzer stellten, soweit dies in ihren Möglichkeiten lag, auch die Versorgung sicher. Zeitzeugen erinnern sich mit Grauen an die Konservendosen, die sie als Hauptnahrungsmittel erhielten. Um die Logistik zu erleichtern legten die Franzosen bereits 1946 den Grundstein für den neuen Flughafen auf der Ulfiswiese in der Höttinger Au, der den 20 Jahre zuvor eröffneten in der Reichenau nach zwei Jahren Bauzeit ersetzte. Das Franzosendenkmal am Landhausplatz erinnert an die französische Besatzungszeit. Am Emile Bethouart footbridgeThe memorial plaque on the river Inn, which connects St. Nikolaus and the city centre, is a good expression of the relationship between the occupation and the population:

"Arrived as a winner.

Remained as a protector.

Returned home as a friend."

In addition to material hardship, society was characterised by the collective trauma of war. The adults of the 1950s were products of the education of the interwar period and National Socialism. Men who had fought at the front could only talk about their horrific experiences in certain circles as war losers; women usually had no forum at all to process their fears and worries. Domestic violence and alcoholism were widespread. Teachers, police officers, politicians and civil servants often came from National Socialist supporters, who did not simply disappear with the end of the war, but were merely hushed up in public. On Innsbruck People's Court Although there were a large number of trials against National Socialists under the direction of the victorious powers, the number of convictions did not reflect the extent of what had happened. The majority of those accused went free. Particularly incriminated representatives of the system were sent to prison for some time, but were able to resume their old lives relatively undisturbed after serving their sentences, at least professionally. It was not just a question of drawing a line under the past decades; yesterday's perpetrators were needed to keep today's society running.

The problem with this strategy of suppression was that no one took responsibility for what had happened, even if there was great enthusiasm and support for National Socialism, especially at the beginning. There was hardly a family that did not have at least one member with a less than glorious history between 1933 and 1945. Shame about what had happened since 1938 and in Austria's politics over the years was mixed with the fear of being treated as a war culprit by the occupying powers of the USA, Great Britain, France and the USSR in a similar way to 1918. A climate arose in which no one, neither those involved nor the following generation, spoke about what had happened. For a long time, this attitude prevented people from coming to terms with what had happened since 1933. The myth of Austria as the first victim of National Socialism, which only began to slowly crumble with the Waldheim affair in the 1980s, was born. Police officers, teachers, judges - they were all left in their jobs despite their political views. Society needed them to keep going.

An example of the generously spread cloak of oblivion with a strong connection to Innsbruck is the life of the doctor Burghard Breitner (1884-1956). Breitner grew up in a well-to-do middle-class household. The Villa Breitner at Mattsee was home to a museum about the German nationalist poet Josef Viktor Scheffel, who was honoured by his father. After graduating from high school, Breitner decided against a career in literature in favour of studying medicine. He then decided to do his military service and began his career as a doctor. In 1912/13 he served as a military doctor in the Balkan War. In 1914, he was sent to the Eastern Front, where he was taken prisoner of war by the Russians. As a doctor, he sacrificially cared for his comrades in the prison camp. It was not until 1920 that he was recognised as a hero and "Angel of Siberia" returned to Austria from the prison camp. In 1932, he began his career at the University of Innsbruck. In 1938, Breitner was faced with the problem that, due to his paternal grandmother's Jewish background, he had to take the "Great Aryan proof" could not provide. However, thanks to his good relationship with the Rector of Innsbruck University and important National Socialists, he was ultimately able to continue working at the university hospital. During the Nazi regime, Breitner was responsible for forced sterilisations and "Voluntary emasculation", even though he probably did not personally carry out any of the operations. After the war, the "Angel of Siberia" managed to wriggle through the denazification process with some difficulty. In 1951, he was nominated as a candidate for the VDUa political rallying point for staunch National Socialists, as a candidate for the federal presidential election. Breitner became Rector of the University of Innsbruck in 1952. After his death, the city of Innsbruck dedicated a grave of honour to him at Innsbruck West Cemetery. In Reichenau, a street is dedicated to him in the immediate vicinity of the site of the former concentration camp.