As after World War I, housing shortages were one of the most pressing problems after 1945. Innsbruck had suffered heavy damage during air raids, and money for new construction was scarce. When the first housing complexes were built in the 1950s, thrift was the order of the day. Many of the buildings erected from the 1950s onward may be architecturally unattractive, but they contain interesting artworks. From 1949 onward, Austria implemented the “Art in Architecture” project (Kunst am Bau). For state-funded construction projects, 2% of total expenditures were to be allocated to artistic design. The implementation of building regulations and thus the management of budgets was, as then and now, the responsibility of the federal states. Through these public commissions, artists were to be financially supported. In the lean post-war years, even successful and practically minded artists such as Oswald Haller (1908–1981), who earned money with commercial graphics and tourism posters, faced difficulties. The idea first appeared in 1919 in the Weimar Republic and was continued by the National Socialists from 1934 onward. Austria revived Kunst am Bau after the war to shape public spaces during reconstruction. The public sector, which replaced aristocracy and bourgeoisie as builders of previous centuries, was under massive financial pressure. Nevertheless, the primarily functional housing projects were not to appear entirely without ornamentation. Tyrolean artists entrusted with designing the artworks were selected through public competitions. The most famous among them was Max Weiler, perhaps the most prominent artist in post-war Tyrol, responsible for the frescoes in the Theresienkirche on the Hungerburg in Innsbruck. Other notable names include Helmut Rehm (1911–1991), Walter Honeder (1906–2006), Fritz Berger (1916–2002), and Emmerich Kerle (1916–2010). Many of these artists were shaped not only by the Federal Trade School in Innsbruck (today’s HTL) and the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna but also by the collective experience of National Socialism and the war. Fritz Berger had lost his right arm and an eye and had to learn to work with his left hand. Kerle served in Finland as a war painter and was taught at the Academy by Josef Müllner, an artist who entered art history with busts of Adolf Hitler, Siegfried from the Nibelungen saga, and the still controversial Karl Lueger monument in Vienna. Like much of the Tyrolean population, these artists—as well as politicians and officials—wanted peace and quiet after the harsh and painful war years, to let the grass grow over the events of the past decades. The works created under Kunst am Bau reflect this attitude toward a new moral order. It was the first time abstract, formless art entered Innsbruck’s public space, albeit only in an uncritical context. Fairy tales, legends, and religious symbols were popular motifs immortalized in sgraffitos, mosaics, murals, and statues. One could speak of a kind of second wave of Biedermeier art, symbolizing the petty-bourgeois lifestyle of people after the war. Art was also intended to create a new awareness and image of what was considered typically Austrian. As late as 1955, every second Austrian still regarded themselves as German. The various motifs depict leisure activities, clothing styles, and notions of social order and norms of the post-war era. Women were often shown in traditional dress and dirndls, men in lederhosen. Conservative ideals of gender roles were reflected in the art: hardworking fathers, dutiful wives caring for home and hearth, and children diligently learning at school were the ideal image well into the 1970s—a life like in a Peter Alexander film. Those who walk attentively through the city will find many of these still-visible artworks on houses in Pradl and Wilten. The mix of unremarkable architecture and contemporary artworks from the often-suppressed, long-idealized post-war era is worth seeing. Particularly beautiful examples can be found on façades in Pacherstraße, Hunoldstraße, Ing.-Thommenstraße, Innrain, at the Landesberufsschule Mandelsbergerstraße, or in the courtyard between Landhausplatz and Maria-Theresien-Straße.

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.

Hardly any era is more difficult to grasp than the interwar period. The Roaring Twenties, jazz, and automobiles come to mind just as readily as inflation and economic crisis. In major cities like Berlin, young women carrying themselves as flappers with bobbed hair, cigarettes, and short skirts danced lasciviously to the new sounds. In Innsbruck, American drinks were served during Five O'Clock Tea at the bar in the Knights' Hall (Rittersaal) of the Cafe Gasthaus Zur Annasäule, which later became the Alt-Innsbruck. The suits of armor can still be admired in the bay window from Maria-Theresien-Straße. For the most part, however, as part of the young Republic of German-Austria, Innsbruck’s population belonged to the faction of poverty, economic crisis, and political polarization. Right from the start, the proclamation of the republic in front of the parliament in Vienna before more than 100,000 people—who were less enthusiastic than they were curious and unsettled—was anything but smooth, accompanied by riots, shootouts, two deaths, and 40 injuries. No one knew how things were supposed to continue after the end of the monarchy and the loss of a large part of the state territory. The new Austria seemed too small and incapable of surviving. The bureaucratic apparatus of the Austro-Hungarian Empire carried on seamlessly under a new flag and name. In the constitution, the federal states, as successors to the old crown lands, were granted a great deal of leeway in legislation and administration under the framework of federalism. However, enthusiasm for the new state among the population remained limited. Not only was the supply situation miserable after the loss of the vast majority of the former giant Habsburg empire, but people also distrusted the underlying concept of the republic. The monarchy had not been perfect, but very few people could relate to the idea of democracy. Instead of being subjects of the Emperor, people were now citizens, but only citizens of a dwarf state with an oversized capital that was little loved in the federal states, rather than citizens of a great empire. In the former crown lands, which were largely governed by the Christian Social Party, people frequently spoke of the "Viennese hydrocephalus" (Wiener Wasserkopf) that let itself be fed by the yields of the hardworking rural population. Other federal states also toyed with the idea of breaking away from the republic after the plan to join Germany, which was supported by all parties, was banned by the victorious powers of the First World War. The various Tyrolean plans, however, were particularly spectacular. From a neutral alpine state with other federal states, a free state consisting of Tyrol and Bavaria, or extending from Kufstein to Salurn, an annexation to Switzerland, all the way to a Catholic church-state under papal leadership, many options were considered. The most obvious solution was particularly popular. Feeling German was nothing new. So why not also attach oneself politically to the big brother to the north? This desire was highly pronounced, especially among urban elites and students. The annexation plan (Anschlussplan) received 98% approval in a vote in Tyrol, but it never came to fruition. In Innsbruck, the Tyrolean National Assembly (Tiroler Nationalversammlung) and the Tyrolean National Council (Tiroler Nationalrat)—a concentration government with members from all parties—constituted themselves in the autumn of 1918 from the members of the former provincial parliament (Landtag). The National Council had authority over the people's and citizens' militias (Volks- und Bürgerwehren), which had formed at the municipal level to maintain public order, at least on paper. Primarily between Innsbruck and the Brenner Pass, up to 50,000 soldiers were stationed at the railway stations, causing problems while waiting for their transport home.

Instead of becoming a part of Germany, Tyrol was occupied by the hated Wallsche (Italian forces). For nearly two years after the end of the war, Italian troops occupied Innsbruck. Following the complex and lengthy peace negotiations in Paris, it finally became a certainty: on October 10, 1920, the formal annexation of South Tyrol took place. At the Brenner Pass, the barrier gate went down. On the North Tyrolean side, only a few administrative and customs buildings were erected, but in the southern part of the village, large barracks shot out of the ground to secure the new border militarily. Historical Tyrol was split in two. In Innsbruck and many other Tyrolean municipalities, pompous mourning ceremonies were organized annually on this date for years. In 1924, the Innsbruck city council decided to name squares and streets around the main railway station after South Tyrolean cities. Bozner Platz as well as Brixner Straße and Salurner Straße still bear their names today. Many people on both sides of the Brenner felt betrayed. Although they had by no means won the war, they did not see themselves as losers to Italy. Hatred toward Italians reached its peak in the interwar period, even though the occupying forces acted with pronounced mildness. A passage from the 1930s short story collection "The Front Above the Peaks" (Die Front über den Gipfeln) by Karl Springenschmid reflects the general mood:

"The young girl says, 'Becoming Italian would be the worst thing.

Old Tappeiner just nods and grumbles: "I know it myself and we all know it: becoming a whale would be the worst thing."

Trouble was also brewing in domestic politics. The revolution in Russia and the subsequent civil war with millions of fatalities, expropriation, and a complete reversal of the system cast its long shadow all the way to Austria. The prospect of "Soviet conditions" terrified people. Austria was deeply divided. Capital and federal states, city and countryside, citizens, workers, and peasants—in the vacuum of the first postwar years, each group wanted to shape the future according to its own ideas. The cultural struggles of the late monarchy between conservatives, liberals, and socialists continued seamlessly. The rift existed not only on a political level. Morals, family, leisure activities, education, faith, legal understanding—every sphere of life was affected. Who should govern? How should wealth, rights, and duties be distributed? Liberals and the Tyrolean People's Party (Tiroler Volkspartei), which had emerged from the Peasants' League (Bauernbund), the People's Association (Volksverein), and the Catholic Working Class (Katholische Arbeiterschaft), were at least as hostile toward Social Democracy as they were toward the federal capital of Vienna and the Italian occupiers. A communist overthrow was not a real danger, especially in Tyrol, but it was effectively instrumentalized in the media as a threat to bring Social Democracy into disrepute. Although a workers', peasants', and soldiers' council (Arbeiter-, Bauern- und Soldatenrat) modeled on the Soviet system had proclaimed itself in Innsbruck in 1919, its influence remained minimal and it was supported by no political party. From 1920 onward, so-called soldiers' councils were officially formed, but like the rest of politics, they were dominated by the Christian Socials. The conservative peasant and bourgeois camp right of center militarized itself more professionally with the Tyrolean Homeland Guard (Tiroler Heimatwehr) and enjoyed a stronger influx of members than leftist groups, also thanks to church support. From church pulpits and in conservative media, Social Democracy was referred to as the "party of Jews" (Judenpartei) and homeless traitors to the fatherland. People were all too eager to blame them for the lost war and its consequences. The Tiroler Anzeiger summed up the public fears: "Woe to the Christian people if the Jew-Socialists win the elections!".

While the Tyrolean People's Party dominated in rural districts, Social Democracy in Innsbruck under the leadership of Martin Rapoldi always managed to win between 30% and 50% of the vote in elections from 1919 onward, despite the strong headwinds. Under the new municipal code of 1919, which provided for universal suffrage for all adults, the city council comprised 40 members. Out of 24,644 citizens called to the ballot box, an incredible 24,060 exercised their right to vote. A certain degree of emancipation also became noticeable. Right from the first city council with free elections, three women were represented. The fact that the Social Democrats did not secure the mayoral seat was due to the majorities in the city council formed by alliances among the other parties.

High politics, however, was merely the backdrop to the actual misery. Martin Rapoldi got straight to the point in September 1919: "Gentlemen, for the moment the constitutional question is completely secondary to the population, as is whether the province has more rights or fewer rights. More potatoes is the slogan in our province." Time and again, looting and hunger riots broke out in the provincial capital. Those who had money could supply themselves with food on the black market; the rest depended on charity from foreign aid shipments. Long after the war, the province of Tyrol still required outside help to feed its population. Under the headline "Significant Expansion of the American Child Relief Action in Tyrol," the Innsbrucker Nachrichten reported on April 9, 1921: "Taking into account the needs of the province of Tyrol, the American representatives for Austria have most generously increased the daily number of meals to 18,000 portions." Alongside hunger, medical care was a major issue. The epidemic that went down in history as the Spanish Flu also took its toll in Innsbruck in the years after the war. Exact numbers were not recorded; worldwide, the number of fatalities is estimated at 27 to 50 million. In Innsbruck, at the height of the Spanish Flu, around 100 victims are said to have succumbed to the disease daily. Many Innsbruckers had not returned home from the battlefields and were missing as fathers, husbands, and workers. Many of those who did make it back were wounded and scarred by the horrors of war. As late as February 1920, the "Tyrolean Committee of Siberians" (Tiroler Ausschuss der Sibirier) organized a benefit evening at the Gasthof Breinößl "…in favor of the fund for the repatriation of our prisoners of war…". On top of this came unemployment. Civil servants and public sector employees in particular had lost their jobs after the League of Nations tied its loan to harsh austerity measures. Public sector salaries were cut. Strikes occurred repeatedly. Tourism as an economic factor was nonexistent due to the problems in the surrounding countries, which were likewise ravaged by the war. The construction industry, which had been booming before the war, collapsed completely. Innsbruck’s largest company, Huter & Söhne, had over 700 employees in 1913; at the peak of the economic crisis in 1933, only 18 remained. The middle class largely collapsed. The average Innsbrucker was destitute and malnourished. Often, no more than 800 calories per day could be scraped together. In this climate of poverty, the crime rate was higher than ever before. Many people lost their homes. In 1922, 3,000 families in Innsbruck were looking for accommodation despite a municipal emergency housing program that had already been in effect for several years. Apartments were built into every available property. On February 11, 1921, a long list in the Innsbrucker Nachrichten detailing the individual projects under way included this item:

"The municipal hospital has vacated the epidemic barracks in Pradl and placed them at the disposal of the municipality for the creation of emergency housing. The necessary credit of 295 K (Editor's note: Kronen) was approved for the construction of 7 emergency apartments."

In the early years, there was hardly any improvement in people's everyday lives. The central government had little enforcement power in distant federal states like Tyrol. For a time, Innsbruck, like many other Austrian municipalities, even began printing its own money. The amount of money in circulation rose from 12 billion kronen to over 3 trillion kronen between 1920 and 1922. An epochal inflation was the result. Then, politics woke up from its lethargy. Under Chancellor Ignaz Seipel, the Republic managed to secure a League of Nations loan. The krone, a relic of the monarchy, was replaced by the schilling as the official currency of Austria on January 1, 1925. Between 1918 and 1922, the old currency had lost more than 95% of its value against the dollar relative to the pre-war exchange rate. With the currency stabilization following the League of Nations loan, however, not only did banks and citizens recover, but public sector construction orders also picked up again. Innsbruck modernized. What economists call a sham boom (Scheinblüte) occurred. This short-term economic recovery was a bubble, but it brought major residential construction and infrastructure projects to the city of Innsbruck. In Innsbruck, there are no deliberate places of remembrance dedicated to the creation of the First Republic. The heritage-protected residential complexes such as the Schlachthofblock, the Pembaurblock, the Mandelsbergerblock, the Pembaurschule, the municipal indoor swimming pool (Städtisches Hallenbad), the Höhenstraße up to the Hungerburg, and the cable cars onto the Patscherkofel and Nordkette are contemporary witnesses that remain in operation to this day. The city purchased the Achensee lake and, as the main shareholder of TIWAG, built the power plant in Jenbach. In 1930, the Universitätsbrücke bridge connected the clinic in Wilten with the Höttinger Au. On the Sill river, the Pembaurbrücke and the Prinz-Eugen-Brücke were constructed. In Reichenau, the first airfield opened on June 1, 1925, involving Innsbruck in air traffic 65 years after the opening of the railway line. Many interested onlookers gathered on the meadow east of the city to witness the event. A monument to the pilots who fell in the World War was unveiled before the German airline Aero Lloyd took off for Munich in a single-engine Fokker-Grulich F III. In the autumn, the integration of the new airfield into the Strasbourg – Zurich – Innsbruck – Vienna route by the French Compagnie Internationale de Navigation followed. Thanks to the daring efforts of pilot Raoul Stojsawljewic, remote regions and alpine mountain huts could now also be supplied with food from Innsbruck, as a report in the Innsbrucker Nachrichten from June 7, 1926, shows:

"In fine weather yesterday morning, Major Stojsawljewic from German Lufthansa took off with his aircraft and flew toward Kühtai, where he dropped free beer, donated by the 'Löwenbräu' brewery, by parachute from a low altitude. At 10 o'clock, the Patscherkofelhaus was approached and beer from the Zipf brewery was dropped..."

Trotz der kurzzeitigen Höhenflüge war die Erste Republik auch auf lokaler Ebene eine schwere Geburt und sie sollte nicht lange Bestand haben, obwohl viel Positives seinen Anfang nahm. Aus Untertanen wurden Bürger. Was in der Zeit Maria Theresias begann, wurde nun unter neuen Vorzeichen weitergeführt. Der Wechsel vom Untertanen zum Bürger zeichnete sich nicht nur durch ein neues Wahlrecht, sondern vor allem durch die verstärkte Obsorge des Staates aus. Staatliche Regelungen, Schulen, Kindergärten, Arbeitsämter, Krankenhäuser und städtische Wohnanlagen traten an die Stelle des Wohlwollens von Grundherrn, Landesfürsten, wohlhabender Bürger, der Monarchie und der Kirche. Bis heute basiert vieles im österreichischen Staatswesen sowie im Innsbrucker Stadtbild und der Infrastruktur auf dem, was nach dem Zusammenbruch der Monarchie entstanden war. Auch gesellschaftliche Bräuche und alltägliche Lebenseinstellungen veränderten sich in der Republik nach dem Zusammenbruch der Monarchie. Der 1925 eingeführte Weltspartag erinnert alljährlich an die Einführung des Schillings und die Mahnung an Kinder und Erwachsene zum verantwortungsvollen Umgang mit Geld. Die Handschrift der jungen Massenparteien und das neue Verhältnis zwischen Zentralstaat und Bürger sind bei allem Lokalpatriotismus unübersehbar.