1669 is considered the official founding year of one of the most important institutions in the history of the city of Innsbruck. On 15 October of that year, Emperor Leopold I granted the Tyroleans the privilege of the so‑called “Hall salt surcharge.” This tax levied on the highly sought‑after trading commodity produced in the state-owned saltworks made it possible to finance a university. The foundations for an institution of higher education had thus already been laid. The university emerged from the Latin school that had been founded just over a hundred years earlier by the Jesuits under Ferdinand I. The curriculum at the gymnasium focused on classical humanist education. Latin and Greek were essential core subjects, as they were necessary for participation in intellectual and political discourse. Scholarly books and many other written documents were still composed in Latin during the Early Modern period. Latin was also a prerequisite for holding senior positions in public service. The university brought new opportunities for education to Innsbruck. The first faculty to begin teaching was philosophy; theology, law, and medicine followed shortly thereafter. When Pope Innocent XI gave his blessing to the university in 1677, academic life was already fully underway. Professors and students of many different nationalities populated Innsbruck. The Jesuit order held several professorships, while other professors were appointed by the Diocese of Brixen. This led to tensions within the university, as the Jesuits primarily represented the interests of the territorial prince and the monarch, whereas the professors appointed by the diocese aimed to safeguard the political interests of the bishop. At this early stage of the Enlightenment, the separation of state, church, and scholarship was still far off. Positions, power, money, and influence were at stake—not only within the city itself.

A course of study usually lasted seven years before a graduate was permitted, as a sign of his status as a doctor, to wear a ring. During the first two years, every student was required to devote himself to philosophy before choosing a specialized field. In addition to instruction in the humanities, students participated in church services, theatrical performances, music-making, and practical skills such as fencing and riding, all of which were considered indispensable in the life of an educated young man. 

However, the university was more than merely an educational institution. In 1665, Innsbruck had lost its status as a residence city and thus much of its prestige and splendor. The operation of the university partially compensated for this degradation, as the aristocracy continued to be present in the city in the form of students. Students and professors altered the city’s social fabric. In the first decade following the foundation, nearly fifty different intellectuals from all parts of Europe taught philosophy in Innsbruck to more than 300 students. At social events such as processions, delegations like the Congregation of the Holy Virgin—whose members were drawn from the Jesuit-influenced university—were particularly prominent. Professors appeared in velvet robes of different colors depending on their discipline, while students carried the swords they were permitted to bear. Academics also spoke German differently from the local population, while official matters were usually conducted in Latin in any case. Work hard, play hard applied even then. The strictly supervised student routine in lecture halls and auditoriums was enlivened by a colorful mix of boisterous evening entertainment, excursions into the surroundings of Innsbruck, music-making, church processions, and theatrical performances. Unlike the soberly and modestly dressed inhabitants of Innsbruck, young men from well-to-do families appeared flamboyant and cheeky, in the manner of medieval dandies. They spoke among themselves in a way that must have seemed utterly ridiculous to outsiders.

Despite their social standing, students were often not diligent model pupils but rather young men accustomed to a certain lifestyle and status. Managing these young elites required a separate legal system. To a certain degree, students were subject to university jurisdiction, which was independent of municipal law. Only in cases involving capital punishment did the regional government have to be consulted. This created a diffuse and often contradictory system in which one segment of society was permitted, at least in certain situations, to do what was forbidden to another. Encounters between privileged youths and citizens, servants, and craftsmen did not always proceed smoothly. Upper-class teenagers were accustomed to carrying weapons and using them. Insults to honor could, much like in the military, lead to duels even in student circles. Especially in combination with alcohol, disturbances were not uncommon. Thus, in January 1674, “not only at night did disturbances, rumors, and improper actions occur,” and “students of the university were encountered carrying all sorts of prohibited weapons such as firearms, pistols, blunderbusses, stilettos, sabers, knives …”. Students were also officially forbidden to drink excessively. If this nevertheless occurred in one of Innsbruck’s taverns, the young offender would be reprimanded. If he was unable or unwilling to pay the bill, the aggrieved innkeeper could not bring a complaint before the court, as the excessive serving of alcoholic beverages to students was itself forbidden. To enforce university law, the rectorate maintained its own force. The Scharwache was armed with halberds and tasked with preventing student disturbances as effectively as possible. Six men served armed duty day and night to maintain order. The costs were shared by the city of Innsbruck and the university. There was also a dedicated carcer in which offenders could be detained on bread and water. Deprivation of liberty, fines, and even expulsion from the territory could be imposed by the university.

Throughout its history, the university was also a political institution and always a mirror of the prevailing spirit of the age. From the mid‑18th century onward, it served to educate loyal, Catholic civil servants for the state. The name Leopold‑Franzens University refers to the emperors Leopold and Francis, under whom the university was founded and later re-established. Twice, the university was downgraded to a lyceum or abolished altogether. Emperor Joseph II closed it, as did the Bavarian administration during the Napoleonic Wars. The Jesuit-influenced students and professors were viewed with suspicion and were excluded from the education system. Emperor Francis I, who during the Restoration again adhered more closely to the traditionally Catholic line of the Habsburgs, re-founded the university in 1826. Nevertheless, the university remained under observation even within Metternich’s police state. During the pre‑March period (Vormärz), nationalist and liberal forces were regarded with suspicion. The secret state police were present not only in lecture halls but also within student circles, in order to suppress potentially subversive ideas among young agitators at an early stage. Industrialization and the accompanying new economic, political, and social rules also transformed university life. In keeping with the spirit of the age, the inaugural lecture by the dean of the Faculty of Philosophy, Prof. Dr. Joachim Suppan (1794–1864), addressed a practical problem in physics so that “a more precise knowledge of the highly important and useful invention of the steam engine might also be achieved for domestic industry, where it has hitherto found no application.” The fact that Suppan, in addition to his degrees in philosophy and mathematics, was also an ordained priest illustrates the influence the Church still exerted on education in the 19th century. How closely the university remained connected to state authority as well as to the Church is shown by Suppan’s concluding admonition to the students to “one day render beneficial service to the fatherland through knowledge and virtue.” The national conflicts of the late Habsburg monarchy were likewise reflected in the university’s history. The 19th century was the age of associations—in the case of the university, student fraternities. In Innsbruck, conflicts between German-speaking and Italian-speaking students repeatedly caused tensions, reaching their climax in the Fatti di Innsbruck. Students with German nationalist leanings continued to play a major role at the university thereafter. Many of these young men had grown up in the Habsburg Empire and had served in the First World War. The ponderous parliamentary Republic of Austria appealed less to many young academics than the new political movements that likewise emerged during this period. Male elites were suddenly no longer among themselves alone. Women and sons of craftsmen had long been barred from studying at the university; now it at least became theoretically possible to advance socially through education. Five years after the founding of the Republic, the university celebrated its first female Doctor of Law. The press reported:

“This coming Saturday, Miss Mitzi Fischer will be awarded the degree of Doctor of Law at the University of Innsbruck. Miss Fischer is a native of Vienna. She also completed her secondary education in Vienna. After her matriculation examination, she pursued the study of law at the University of Innsbruck. The future doctor passed all examinations with distinction and would therefore, according to former custom, have to be promoted sub auspiciis imperatoris. In any case, Miss Fischer is the first woman to earn the doctoral degree in law at the University of Innsbruck.”

The enthusiasm of the young men—some of whom had returned from the fronts of the First World War—was partly directed toward fascist Italy, perceived as modern and dynamic, and later toward National Socialist Germany, both of which upheld traditional role models. With the Anschluss to the German Reich in 1938, the university was renamed once again. After the war, the German Alpine University became once more the Leopold‑Franzens University. The relative calm with which Innsbruck’s students behaved in 1968 was striking, much as it had been in 1848. While students in other European cities were the driving force of change, Innsbruck remained unruffled. In Paris, paving stones were thrown; in Innsbruck, boycotts and sit-ins sufficed. Although there were individual groups in the late 1960s and 1970s—such as the Communist Group Innsbruck, the Committee for Solidarity with Vietnam, the socialist VSStÖ, or the liberal‑Catholic Action within the Austrian National Union of Students—no mass movement emerged. The vast majority of students came from the upper classes and had completed their secondary education at Catholic-oriented grammar schools. Beethoven’s old observation that “as long as the Austrian still has his brown beer and sausages, he will not revolt” proved true. Only a few students could be inspired by solidarity with Vietnam, Mao Zedong, or Fidel Castro. Who would risk their own career in a country dominated by the trinity of the Tiroler Tageszeitung, Bishop Paulus Rusch, and a provincial parliament with an absolute ÖVP majority? Those who nevertheless dared to distribute rebellious leaflets or leftist literature had to reckon with media defamation, reprimands by the rectorate, or even visits from state authorities. Professors were seldom criticized, many of them still exuding in the 20th century the aloofness and unapproachable aura of Early Modern times, or making little effort to conceal their political convictions. More frequently criticized was the inadequate equipment of the modest lecture halls, given the constantly growing number of students. The great transformation of Austrian universities was not fought for but voted for. Under Federal Chancellor Bruno Kreisky, tuition fees were abolished. Education became attainable and conceivable for a larger number of young people. As a result, the number of students at Austrian universities rose from around 50,000 in 1968 to more than 73,000 by 1974.

Despite all adversities and curiosities over the centuries, the University of Innsbruck has, since its earliest days, generally enjoyed an excellent reputation. In the 20th and 21st centuries, faculty and students repeatedly achieved internationally acclaimed research results. Victor Franz Hess was awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics for his work on cosmic radiation. Quantum physicist Anton Zeilinger was also associated with the University of Innsbruck, though not at the time of his award in 2022. Professors Fritz Pregl, Adolf Windaus, and Hans Fischer likewise received the Nobel Prize in Chemistry, though none of them were active in Innsbruck at the time. The university hospital has likewise delivered outstanding achievements in both research and education, as well as in the daily medical care of the city, and is considered one of Innsbruck’s flagship institutions. The university is of great importance to the city not only intellectually and economically. Around 30,000 students populate and shape life between the Nordkette mountain range and the Patscherkofel. 

Prejudice and racism towards immigrants were and are common in Innsbruck, as in all societies. Whether Syrian refugees since 2015 or Turkish guest workers in the 1970s and 80s, the foreign usually generates little well-disposed animosity in the average Tyrolean. Today, Italy may be Innsbruck's favourite travel destination and pizzerias part of everyday gastronomic life, but for a long time our southern neighbours were the most suspiciously eyed population group. What the Viennese Jew and Brick Bohemia were the Tyrolean's Wall's.

The aversion to Italians in Innsbruck can look back on a long tradition. Although Italy did not exist as an independent state, the political landscape was characterised by many small counties, city states and principalities between Lake Garda and Sicily. The individual regions also differed in terms of language and culture. Nevertheless, over time people began to see themselves as Italians. During the Middle Ages and the early modern period, they were mainly resident in Innsbruck as members of the civil service, courtiers, bankers or even wives of various sovereigns. The antipathy between Italians und Germans was mutual. Some were regarded as dishonourable, unreliable, snobbish, vain, morally corrupt and lazy, others as uncivilised, barbaric, uneducated and pigs.

With the wars between 1848 and 1866, hatred of all things Italian reached a new high in the Holy Land Tyrolalthough many Wallsche served in the k.u.k. army and most of the rural population among the Italian-speaking Tyroleans were loyal to the monarchy. The Italians under Garibaldi were regarded as godless rebels and republicans and were castigated from the church pulpits between Kufstein and Riva del Garda in both Italian and German.

The Tyrolean press landscape, which experienced an upswing after liberalisation in 1867, played a major role in the conflict. What today Social Media The newspapers of the time took over the role of the press, which contributed to social division. Conservatives, Catholics, Greater Germans, liberals and socialists each had their own press organs. Loyal readers of these hardly neutral papers lived in their opinion bubble. On the Italian side, the socialist Cesare Battisti (1875 - 1916), who was executed by the Austrian military during the war for high treason on the gallows, stood out. The journalist and politician, who had studied in Vienna and was therefore considered by many to be not just an enemy but a traitor, fuelled the conflict in the newspapers Il Popolo und L'Avvenire repeatedly fired with a sharp pen.

Associations also played a key role in the hardening of the fronts. Not only had the press law been reformed in 1867, but it was now also easier to found associations. This triggered a veritable boom. Sports clubs, gymnastics clubs, theatre groups, shooting clubs and the Innsbrucker Liedertafel often served as a kind of preliminary organisation that took a political stance and also agitated. The club members met in their own pubs and organised regular club evenings, often in public. The student fraternities were particularly politically active and extremist in their opinions. The young men came from the upper middle classes or the aristocracy and were used to buying and carrying weapons. A third of the students in Innsbruck belonged to a fraternity, of which just under half were of German nationalist orientation. Unlike today, it was not uncommon for them to appear in public in their full dress uniform, complete with sabre, beret and ribbon, often armed with a cane and revolver.

It is therefore not surprising that their habitat was a particular flashpoint. One of the biggest political points of contention in the autonomy debate and the desire to join the Kingdom of Italy was a separate Italian university. The loss of Padua meant that Tyroleans of Italian descent no longer had the opportunity to study in their native language at home. Although attending the university was actually only a matter for a small elite, irredentist, anti-Austrian Tyrolean members of parliament from Trentino were able to emotionally charge the issue again and again as a symbol of the desired autonomy and fuelled hatred of Habsburg. The debate as to whether a university in Trieste, the favoured location of the Italian-speaking representatives, Innsbruck, Trento or Rovereto should be targeted, went on for years. Wilhelm Greil was admonished for his incorrect behaviour towards the Italian population by the Imperial-Royal Governor. All language groups within the monarchy were to be treated equally by law from 1867 onwards.  

A look at the statistics shows just how great the fears of German nationalists that Italian students would overrun the country were. Even then, facts were often replaced in the discourse by gut feelings and racially motivated populism. After the incorporation of Pradl and Wilten in 1904, Innsbruck had just over 50,000 inhabitants. The proportion of students was just over 1000 and less than 2%. Of the approximately 3000 people of Italian descent, most of them Welschtiroler from Trentino, only just over 100 were enrolled at the university. The majority of the Wallschen made up labourers, innkeepers, traders and soldiers. Many had been living in and around Innsbruck for a long time. Many settled in Wilten in particular. Soon a small diaspora came together in the somewhat more favourable workers' village on the lower town square. Anton Gutmann sold Italian wines in his winery cooperative Riva in Leopoldstraße 30, and across the street you could eat well and cheaply at the Gasthaus Steneck specialities south of the Brenner. The majority were part of a different everyday culture, but as subjects of the monarchy they spoke excellent German; only a small proportion came from Dalmatia or Trieste and were actually foreign speakers. In keeping with the spirit of the times, they also founded sports clubs such as the Club Ciclistico oder die Unione Ginnasticasocialist-oriented workers' and consumer organisations, music clubs and student fraternities.

Although the students only made up a small proportion of them, they and the demand for an institute with Italian as the language of examination and teaching received above-average attention. Conservative and German nationalist politicians, students and the media saw an Italian university as a threat to Tyrolean Germanness. In addition to the ethnic and racist resentment towards the southern neighbours, Catholics in particular were also afraid of characters such as Cesare Battisti, who, as a socialist, embodied evil incarnate. Mayor Wilhelm Greil capitalised on the general hostility towards Italian-speaking residents and students in a similar populist manner as his Viennese counterpart Karl Lueger did in Vienna with his anti-Semitic propaganda.

After some back and forth, it was decided in September 1904 to establish a provisional law faculty in Innsbruck. This was intended to separate the students without marginalising one of the groups. From the outset, however, the project was not under a favourable star. Nobody wanted to rent the necessary premises to the university. Finally, the enterprising master builder Anton Fritz made a flat available in one of his tenement houses at Liebeneggstraße 8. At the inaugural lecture and the festive evening event in the White Cross Inn On 3 November, celebrities such as Battisti and the future Italian Prime Minister Alcide de Gasperi were in attendance. The later the evening, the more exuberant the atmosphere. When shouts of invective such as "Porchi tedeschi“ and „Abbasso Austria" (Note: German pigs and down with Austria), the situation escalated. A mob of German-speaking students armed with sticks, knives and revolvers laid siege to the White cross, in which the Italians, who were also largely armed, entrenched themselves. A troop of Kaiserjäger successfully broke up the first riot. In the process, the painter August Pezzey (1875 - 1904) was accidentally fatally wounded by an overly nervous soldier with a bayonet thrust.

The Innsbrucker Nachrichten appeared after the night-time activities on 4 November under the headline: "German blood has flowed!". The editor present reported 100 to 200 revolver shots fired by the Italians at the "Crowd of German students" who had gathered in front of the White Cross Inn. The nine wounded were listed by name, followed by an astonishingly detailed account of what had happened, including Pezzey's wound. The news of the young man's death unleashed a storm of acts of revenge and violence. As with every riot, the convinced German nationalists were joined by onlookers and rioters who enjoyed going overboard in the anonymity of the crowd without any great political conviction. While the detained Italians in the completely overcrowded prison sang the martial anthem Inno di Garibaldi the city saw serious riots against Italian restaurants and businesses. The premises of the White Cross Inn were completely vandalised except for a portrait of Emperor Franz Josef. Rioters threw stones at the residence of the governor, Palais Trapp, as his wife had Italian roots. The building in Liebeneggstraße, which Anton Fritz had made available to the university, was destroyed, as was the architect's private residence.

August Pezzey, who died in the turmoil and came from a Ladin family, was declared a "German hero" in a national frenzy by politicians and the press. He was given a grave of honour at Innsbruck's West Cemetery. At his funeral, attended by thousands of mourners, Mayor Greil read out a pathetic speech:

"...A gloriously beautiful death was granted to you on the field of honour for the German people... In the fight against impudent acts of violence you breathed your last as a martyr for the German cause..."

Reports from the Fatti di Innsbruck made it into the international press and played a decisive role in the resignation of Austrian Prime Minister Ernest von Koerber. Depending on the medium, the Italians were portrayed as dishonourable bandits or courageous national heroes, the Austrians as pan-Germanist barbarians or bulwarks against the Wallsche seen. On 17 November, just two weeks after the ceremonial opening, the Italian faculty in Innsbruck was dissolved again. The language group was denied its own university within Austria-Hungary until the end of the monarchy in 1918. The long tradition of viewing Italians as dishonourable and lazy was further fuelled by Italy's entry into the war on the side of the Entente. To this day, many Tyroleans keep the negative prejudices against their southern neighbours alive. 

Franciscans, Premonstratensians, Carmelites, Servites, Capuchins, Ursulines. Anyone visiting Innsbruck strolls past numerous monasteries—usually without realizing it. Yet the most politically and socially influential order in the city’s history since the sixteenth century was the Jesuits. These “Soldiers of Christ” were founded in 1540 by the Spanish nobleman Ignatius of Loyola (1491–1556). Loyola was a morally rigorous reformer and an influential church politician with access to the highest circles of power of his time. His aim was to reform the Church—not, like Luther, without the Pope as its supreme authority. Nor did he consider dissolving monastic property. Renewal of faith from the top down, rather than the destruction of the existing order, was the guiding principle of the Societas Jesu. The order rapidly gained influence. Its military-inspired organization and structure, the combination of humanist learning with Catholic tradition, its affinity for science and education paired with a form of popular piety imbued with mysticism—all this made the Jesuits attractive to many people who were disillusioned by the moral decay of the late medieval clergy. In these respects, the Jesuits were very much attuned to an era shaped by new political, social, and economic structures. Like the Protestant reformers, they skilfully exploited the new medium of print to disseminate their writings. They represented the confessional continuation of a societal transformation characterized by the growing power of the state, new media, and double-entry bookkeeping. In this environment, spiritual guidance was in high demand. Politically, the Holy Roman Empire in the mid-sixteenth century was steeped in crisis. Italy had been severely affected by the wars between France and the Habsburgs. Major trading houses such as the Fuggers and the Welsers amassed ever greater influence. The German territories were still reeling from the Peasants’ Wars. Inflation posed a serious threat, and the many technological innovations around 1500 inspired fear among broad segments of the population. How, then, could the wrath of God—provoked by the failings of the Renaissance popes—and the looming end of the world be averted, if not through moral reform and a life lived according to the teachings of Christ?

A zealous patron of the Jesuits in Tyrol was the territorial prince and later Emperor Ferdinand I. Like Ignatius of Loyola, he had grown up in Spain. He struggled with German customs, the Reformation movement—unknown in Spain—and even the German language itself. The Tyrolean population, for its part, regarded their sovereign with suspicion, easily mistaking his foreign courtly entourage for an occupying power. A unifying element between these two worlds was the Roman Church, and in particular the modern Jesuit order. Probably the most important Jesuit theologian was Petrus Canisius (1521–1597). Born Peter Kanis into an upper-middle-class household in the Netherlands—his father was mayor of Nijmegen—he was exposed to high politics from an early age and learned courtly manners before studying in Cologne. Canisius became the first member of the order active within the Holy Roman Empire. Intelligent and highly educated, he rose swiftly through the ranks. Ferdinand appointed him to Vienna, where he was tasked with restoring order both as episcopal administrator and at the university. Alongside teaching and research, one of his main duties was to identify and interrogate university members suspected of Protestant sympathies. Canisius also spent several years in Innsbruck. Initially, the Jesuits were supposed to move into the newly completed Court Church (Hofkirche) and assume responsibility for the choral prayers at the tomb of Maximilian I. Canisius, as the highest-ranking representative of the order north of the Alps, politely but firmly declined. In 1563, however, the Emperor succeeded in luring him to the Alps after all. The scholar was needed as an adviser during a dispute with the Pope at the Council of Trent. For Ferdinand, Canisius composed a prayer manual intended to guide the ruler along the right spiritual path. The presence of Petrus Canisius made Innsbruck one of the theological centres of the German‑speaking world in the sixteenth century. In October 1571, he informed the parish of Wilten of the victory of the papal‑imperial fleet over the Ottomans at Lepanto. From the pulpit, Canisius proclaimed the triumph of Christian forces over the looming pagan threat in the greatest naval battle in history, adopting a tone reminiscent of a Catholic news broadcaster. His role as preacher and scholar in the city would be comparable to Albert Einstein holding a teaching post at a university in the 1930s. Canisius himself was deeply impressed by the piety of the Alpine population.

"Tyrol deserves our special attention, because it is even more Catholic than any other region of Germany and has not yet allowed itself to be ensnared by the heretics like the other countries. Even if many places have already been corrupted [...]. Innsbruck is ... the heart and life of the whole country."

Beyond courtly circles, the court preacher also cut a fine figure. While many Innsbruck residents eyed other foreign preachers and advisers at court with suspicion, Canisius was a man of the people. On behalf of his spiritual—and even more so his secular—masters, he travelled across Europe. Like Martin Luther, he “listened to the people’s speech.” Canisius is said to have travelled more than 100,000 kilometres between the Netherlands, Rome, and Poland, usually staying in modest inns. He understood how vital it was to win over the rural population. While his fellow Jesuits evangelised in distant India, he fought Protestantism in the German lands. He recognized that sermons in Latin were ill‑suited to immunise peasants, farmhands, and maids against the threat posed to the Roman Church by Luther’s Protestantism.

The strongest and most enduring pillar in the struggle against the Reformers was education. Canisius regarded many bishops and politicians as corrupt, morally depraved, and sinful. Instead of eliminating them, however, they were to reform themselves under the protective wings of the Soldiers of Christ. By founding new colleges, the Jesuits sought to improve the education of civil servants, the nobility, and the clergy, and to raise moral standards rooted in Christian principles. To this end, they established colleges throughout the Empire. In Protestant regions, German schools, academies, and grammar schools were founded with the aim of enabling as many subjects as possible to read the Bible for themselves in pursuit of piety and salvation. The Jesuits, by contrast, concentrated on educating elites and thus attained lasting influence within the power centres of Catholic states. With his Catechism, Petrus Canisius created a foundational German‑language compendium for the Catholic struggle against the Reformation. Translated into all major European languages, it long served as a guiding text of the Catholic Church. Between 1555 and 1558, three versions of varying complexity were produced for different audiences. Resourceful publishers even created an illustrated catechism for the illiterate. Well into the nineteenth century—and in some regions even beyond the Second World War—the Kanisi, as it was affectionately known, remained the most influential religious‑philosophical work in Tyrol and the foundation of religious instruction in schools. Canisius also made use of the new medium of the pamphlet to reach as wide an audience as possible. Together with those of Luther, his writings were probably the most widely read of the sixteenth century. In Innsbruck, the Jesuits founded the Latin School from which the university later emerged. This new educational institution had a profound impact on urban development, training the intelligentsia that enabled Innsbruck’s rise as an administrative and economic centre. In addition to university chairs, the Jesuits also oversaw the Theresianum. From 1775 to 1848, noble pupils and students housed in the Franciscan monastery were instructed in courtly etiquette and virtuous conduct in preparation for their careers. The Theresian Knightly Academy provided instruction in diplomatic skills such as foreign languages and dance, as well as military disciplines like fencing. Under Joseph II, Jesuit activities were temporarily interrupted. He stripped ecclesiastical orders of power and property, including the Jesuits—an order he personally disliked and which was also banned by the Pope for being too powerful. In 1781, the University of Innsbruck was downgraded to a lyceum. The vacated Jesuit College was used to establish the city’s first botanical garden, which was expanded further after the Theresianum was dissolved in 1808 during Bavarian administration. The Jesuits were recalled to Innsbruck in 1838. In 1910, the garden was relocated to Hötting as part of new school construction.

Through a dense network of influential positions and control over the education system, the order expanded rapidly. Especially during the Counter‑Reformation, the Jesuits succeeded in forging a close alliance with the Habsburg dynasty. The influence of Jesuit education is evident in the governance of many Habsburg rulers. Jesuits such as Bartholomäus Viller and Wilhelm Lamormaini wielded considerable political influence as confessors and advisers in the Early Modern period. It is no coincidence that Jesuits continue to feature as adversaries of Freemasons in countless conspiracy theories and novels, often cast as the modern equivalent of a James Bond villain. At the same time, the Jesuits were remarkably open to research, knowledge accumulation, and education, striving to understand the world as part of Christian creation. To Catholics, this made them a fashionable counterpoint both to traditional, ossified orders and to Protestantism. Faith and empiricism merged into a kind of pre‑modern science seeking to explain nature and physics. The collection of Ferdinand II at Ambras Castle testifies to this spirit of inquiry, as do the alchemical experiments of Emperor Matthias (1557–1619), which now appear rather absurd.

Despite their rational leanings, the Jesuits also re‑introduced mysticism into everyday church life. Passion plays, Holy Sepulchres, processions, and feast days wrapped strict doctrinal principles in spectacle and performance. Work hard – play hard was the motto. Festivities during processions often escalated into exuberant celebrations, not unlike today’s tent festivals, occasionally erupting into brawls and even violent riots. Bread and wine were celebrated in the style of Roman panem et circenses. On behalf of Ferdinand I, Petrus Canisius authored a book promoting a miracle in Seefeld—On the Highly Celebrated Miraculous Sign that Occurred with the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar at Seefeld in the Princely County of Tyrol in the Year 1384—to stimulate pilgrimage to the site.

The Jesuit order, fully committed to popular belief, was also highly motivated when it came to persecuting witches and people of other faiths. Peter Canisius was one of the masterminds behind the early modern witch hunts:

"Witches are being punished everywhere, and they are multiplying strangely.... They envy children the grace of baptism and deprive them of it. There are large numbers of child murderers among them... Never before in Germany have you seen people so devoted and dedicated to the devil..."

Canisius also attracted attention as an exorcist, particularly in cases involving noblewomen allegedly afflicted by the “virus” of Protestantism. He exploited the public fascination with witches and demoniacs to promote the power and authority of the Catholic Church. At the same time, the Jesuits were highly active in missionary efforts in the then newly discovered New World of the Americas as well as in Asia. Saint Francis Xavier, one of Ignatius of Loyola’s earliest companions, died during a missionary journey in China. An altar dedicated to this Soldier of Christ can be found in a side chapel of the Jesuit Church in Innsbruck.

To this day, the Jesuits continue to exert an educational influence over Innsbruck. When the city was elevated to an independent diocese in 1964 under the Jesuit Paulus Rusch, Petrus Canisius was chosen as its patron saint. Karl‑Rahner‑Platz today is home not only to the Jesuit Church but also to the Faculty of Theology of the University of Innsbruck. In the Saggen district, the Collegium Canisianum remains under Jesuit administration. The principle of broad‑based societal influence aimed at mass audiences has endured on many levels. The Marian Congregation, known in Innsbruck as the MK, was once one of the largest youth centres in Europe and, in a modern sense, stands in the tradition of the Jesuit approach to the gentle introduction into faith and the education of youth within the Church.

Few eras are more difficult to grasp than the interwar period. The Roaring TwentiesJazz and automobiles come to mind, as do inflation and the economic crisis. In big cities like Berlin, young ladies behaved as Flappers mit Bubikopf, Zigarette und kurzen Röcken zu den neuen Klängen lasziv, Innsbrucks Bevölkerung gehörte als Teil der jungen Republik Österreich zum größten Teil zur Fraktion Armut, Wirtschaftskrise und politischer Polarisierung. Schon die Ausrufung der Republik am Parlament in Wien vor über 100.000 mehr oder minder begeisterten, vor allem aber verunsicherten Menschen verlief mit Tumulten, Schießereien, zwei Toten und 40 Verletzten alles andere als reibungsfrei. Wie es nach dem Ende der Monarchie und dem Wegfall eines großen Teils des Staatsterritoriums weitergehen sollte, wusste niemand. Das neue Österreich erschien zu klein und nicht lebensfähig. Der Beamtenstaat des k.u.k. Reiches setzte sich nahtlos unter neuer Fahne und Namen durch. Die Bundesländer als Nachfolger der alten Kronländer erhielten in der Verfassung im Rahmen des Föderalismus viel Spielraum in Gesetzgebung und Verwaltung. Die Begeisterung für den neuen Staat hielt sich aber in der Bevölkerung in Grenzen. Nicht nur, dass die Versorgungslage nach dem Wegfall des allergrößten Teils des ehemaligen Riesenreiches der Habsburger miserabel war, die Menschen misstrauten dem Grundgedanken der Republik. Die Monarchie war nicht perfekt gewesen, mit dem Gedanken von Demokratie konnten aber nur die allerwenigsten etwas anfangen. Anstatt Untertan des Kaisers war man nun zwar Bürger, allerdings nur Bürger eines Zwergstaates mit überdimensionierter und in den Bundesländern wenig geliebter Hauptstadt anstatt eines großen Reiches. In den ehemaligen Kronländern, die zum großen Teil christlich-sozial regiert wurden, sprach man gerne vom Viennese water headwho was fed by the yields of the industrious rural population.

Other federal states also toyed with the idea of seceding from the Republic after the plan to join Germany, which was supported by all parties, was prohibited by the victorious powers of the First World War. The Tyrolean plans, however, were particularly spectacular. From a neutral Alpine state with other federal states, a free state consisting of Tyrol and Bavaria or from Kufstein to Salurn, an annexation to Switzerland and even a Catholic church state under papal leadership, there were many ideas. The most obvious solution was particularly popular. In Tyrol, feeling German was nothing new. So why not align oneself politically with the big brother in the north? This desire was particularly pronounced among urban elites and students. The annexation to Germany was approved by 98% in a vote in Tyrol, but never materialised.

Instead of becoming part of Germany, they were subject to the unloved Wallschen. Italian troops occupied Innsbruck for almost two years after the end of the war. At the peace negotiations in Paris, the Brenner Pass was declared the new border. The historic Tyrol was divided in two. The military was stationed at the Brenner Pass to secure a border that had never existed before and was perceived as unnatural and unjust. In 1924, the Innsbruck municipal council decided to name squares and streets around the main railway station after South Tyrolean towns. Bozner Platz, Brixnerstrasse and Salurnerstrasse still bear their names today. Many people on both sides of the Brenner felt betrayed. Although the war was far from won, they did not see themselves as losers to Italy. Hatred of Italians reached its peak in the interwar period, even if the occupying troops were emphatically lenient. A passage from the short story collection "The front above the peaks" by the National Socialist author Karl Springenschmid from the 1930s 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 also loomed in domestic politics. The revolution in Russia and the ensuing civil war with millions of deaths, expropriation and a complete reversal of the system cast its long shadow all the way to Austria. The prospect of Soviet conditions machte den Menschen Angst. Österreich war tief gespalten. Hauptstadt und Bundesländer, Stadt und Land, Bürger, Arbeiter und Bauern – im Vakuum der ersten Nachkriegsjahre wollte jede Gruppe die Zukunft nach ihren Vorstellungen gestalten. Die Kulturkämpfe der späten Monarchie zwischen Konservativen, Liberalen und Sozialisten setzte sich nahtlos fort. Die Kluft bestand nicht nur auf politischer Ebene. Moral, Familie, Freizeitgestaltung, Erziehung, Glaube, Rechtsverständnis – jeder Lebensbereich war betroffen. Wer sollte regieren? Wie sollten Vermögen, Rechte und Pflichten verteilt werden. Ein kommunistischer Umsturz war besonders in Tirol keine reale Gefahr, ließ sich aber medial gut als Bedrohung instrumentalisieren, um die Sozialdemokratie in Verruf zu bringen. 1919 hatte sich in Innsbruck zwar ein Workers', farmers' and soldiers' council nach sowjetischem Vorbild ausgerufen, sein Einfluss blieb aber gering und wurde von keiner Partei unterstützt. Ab 1920 bildeten sich offiziell sogenannten Soldatenräte, die aber christlich-sozial dominiert waren. Das bäuerliche und bürgerliche Lager rechts der Mitte militarisierte sich mit der Tiroler Heimatwehr professioneller und konnte sich über stärkeren Zulauf freuen als linke Gruppen, auch dank kirchlicher Unterstützung. Die Sozialdemokratie wurde von den Kirchkanzeln herab und in konservativen Medien als Jewish Party and homeless traitors to their country. They were all too readily blamed for the lost war and its consequences. The Tiroler Anzeiger summarised the people's fears in a nutshell: "Woe to the Christian people if the Jews=Socialists win the elections!".

With the new municipal council regulations of 1919, which provided for universal suffrage for all adults, the Innsbruck municipal council comprised 40 members. Of the 24,644 citizens called to the ballot box, an incredible 24,060 exercised their right to vote. Three women were already represented in the first municipal council with free elections. While in the rural districts the Tyrolean People's Party as a merger of Farmers' Union, People's Association und Catholic Labour Despite the strong headwinds in Innsbruck, the Social Democrats under the leadership of Martin Rapoldi were always able to win between 30 and 50% of the vote in the first elections in 1919. The fact that the Social Democrats did not succeed in winning the mayor's seat was due to the majorities in the municipal council formed by alliances with other parties. Liberals and Tyrolean People's Party was at least as hostile to social democracy as he was to the federal capital Vienna and the Italian occupiers.

But high politics was only the framework of the actual misery. The as Spanish flu This epidemic, which has gone down in history, also took its toll in Innsbruck in the years following the war. Exact figures were not recorded, but the number of deaths worldwide is estimated at 27 - 50 million. In Innsbruck, at the height of the Spanish flu epidemic, it is estimated that around 100 people fell victim to the disease every day. Many Innsbruck residents had not returned home from the battlefields and were missing as fathers, husbands and labourers. Many of those who had made it back were wounded and scarred by the horrors of war. As late as February 1920, the „Tyrolean Committee of the Siberians" im Gasthof Breinößl "...in favour of the fund for the repatriation of our prisoners of war..." organised a charity evening. Long after the war, the province of Tyrol still needed help from abroad to feed the population. Under the heading "Significant expansion of the American children's aid programme in Tyrol" was published on 9 April 1921 in the Innsbrucker Nachrichten to read: "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.“

Then there was unemployment. Civil servants and public sector employees in particular lost their jobs after the League of Nations linked its loan to severe austerity measures. Salaries in the public sector were cut. There were repeated strikes. Tourism as an economic factor was non-existent due to the problems in the neighbouring countries, which were also shaken by the war. The construction industry, which had been booming before the war, collapsed completely. Innsbruck's largest company Huter & Söhne hatte 1913 über 700 Mitarbeiter, am Höhepunkt der Wirtschaftskrise 1933 waren es nur noch 18. Der Mittelstand brach zu einem guten Teil zusammen. Der durchschnittliche Innsbrucker war mittellos und mangelernährt. Oft konnten nicht mehr als 800 Kalorien pro Tag zusammengekratzt werden. Die Kriminalitätsrate war in diesem Klima der Armut höher als je zuvor. Viele Menschen verloren ihre Bleibe. 1922 waren in Innsbruck 3000 Familien auf Wohnungssuche trotz eines städtischen Notwohnungsprogrammes, das bereits mehrere Jahre in Kraft war. In alle verfügbaren Objekte wurden Wohnungen gebaut. Am 11. Februar 1921 fand sich in einer langen Liste in den Innsbrucker Nachrichten on the individual projects that were run, including this item:

„The municipal hospital abandoned the epidemic barracks in Pradl and made them available to the municipality for the construction of emergency flats. The necessary loan of 295 K (note: crowns) was approved for the construction of 7 emergency flats.“

Very little happened in the first few years. Then politics awoke from its lethargy. The crown, a relic from the monarchy, was replaced by the schilling as Austria's official currency on 1 January 1925. The old currency had lost more than 95% of its value against the dollar between 1918 and 1922, or the pre-war exchange rate. Innsbruck, like many other Austrian municipalities, began to print its own money. The amount of money in circulation rose from 12 billion crowns to over 3 trillion crowns between 1920 and 1922. The result was an epochal inflation.

With the currency reorganisation following the League of Nations loan under Chancellor Ignaz Seipel, not only banks and citizens picked themselves up, but public building contracts also increased again. Innsbruck modernised itself. There was what economists call a false boom. This short-lived economic recovery was a Bubble, However, the city of Innsbruck was awarded major projects such as the Tivoli, the municipal indoor swimming pool, the high road to the Hungerburg, the mountain railways to the Isel and the Nordkette, new schools and apartment blocks. The town bought Lake Achensee and, as the main shareholder of TIWAG, built the power station in Jenbach. The first airport was built in Reichenau in 1925, which also involved Innsbruck in air traffic 65 years after the opening of the railway line. In 1930, the university bridge connected the hospital in Wilten and the Höttinger Au. The Pembaur Bridge and the Prince Eugene Bridge were built on the River Sill. The signature of the new, large mass parties in the design of these projects cannot be overlooked.

The first republic was a difficult birth from the remnants of the former monarchy and it was not to last long. Despite the post-war problems, however, a lot of positive things also happened in the First Republic. Subjects became citizens. What began in the time of Maria Theresa was now continued under new auspices. The change from subject to citizen was characterised not only by a new right to vote, but above all by the increased care of the state. State regulations, schools, kindergartens, labour offices, hospitals and municipal housing estates replaced the benevolence of the landlord, sovereigns, wealthy citizens, the monarchy and the church.

To this day, much of the Austrian state and Innsbruck's cityscape and infrastructure are based on what emerged after the collapse of the monarchy. In Innsbruck, there are no conscious memorials to the emergence of the First Republic in Austria. The listed residential complexes such as the Slaughterhouse blockthe Pembaurblock or the Mandelsbergerblock oder die Pembaur School are contemporary witnesses turned to stone. Every year since 1925, World Savings Day has commemorated the introduction of the schilling. Children and adults should be educated to handle money responsibly.

It was almost not Gavrilo Princip, but a student from Innsbruck who changed the fate of the world. It was thanks to chance that the 20-year-old Serb was stopped in 1913 because he bragged to a waitress that he was planning to assassinate the heir to the throne. It was only when the world-changing shooting in Sarajevo actually took place that an article about it appeared in the media. After the actual assassination of Franz Ferdinand on 28 June, it was impossible to foresee what impact the First World War that broke out as a result would have on the world and people's everyday lives. However, two days after the assassination of the Habsburg in Sarajevo, the Innsbrucker Nachrichten already prophetic: "We have reached a turning point - perhaps the "turning point" - in the fortunes of this empire".

Enthusiasm for the war in 1914 was also high in Innsbruck. From the "Gott, Kaiser und VaterlandDriven by the "spirit of the times", most people unanimously welcomed the attack on Serbia. Politicians, the clergy and the press joined in the general rejoicing. In addition to the imperial appeal "To my peoples", which appeared in all the media of the empire, the Innsbrucker Nachrichten On 29 July, the day after Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia, the media published an article about the capture of Belgrade by Prince Eugene in 1717. The tone in the media was celebratory, although not entirely without foreboding 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!"

Theologians such as Joseph Seeber (1856 - 1919) and Anton Müllner alias Bruder Willram (1870 - 1919) who, with her sermons and writings such as "Das blutige Jahr" elevated the war to a crusade against France and Italy.

Many Innsbruckers volunteered for the campaign against Serbia, which was thought to be a matter of a few weeks or months. Such a large number of volunteers came from outside the city to join the military commissions that Innsbruck was almost bursting at the seams. Nobody could have guessed how different things would turn out. Even after the first battles in distant Galicia, it was clear that it would not be a matter of months. Kaiserjäger and other Tyrolean troops were literally burnt out. Poor equipment, a lack of supplies and the catastrophic leadership of the high command under Konrad von Hötzendorf led to the deaths of thousands or to captivity, where hunger, abuse and forced labour awaited them.

In 1915, the Kingdom of Italy entered the war on the side of France and England. This meant that the front went right through what was then Tyrol. From the Ortler in the west across northern Lake Garda to the Sextener Dolomiten the battles of the mountain war took place. Innsbruck was not directly affected by the fighting. However, the war could at least be heard as far as the provincial capital, as was reported in the newspaper of 7 July 1915:

„Bald nach Beginn der Feindseligkeiten der Italiener konnte man in der Gegend der Serlesspitze deutlich Kanonendonner wahrnehmen, der von einem der Kampfplätze im Süden Tirols kam, wahrscheinlich von der Vielgereuter Hochebene. In den letzten Tagen ist nun in Innsbruck selbst und im Nordosten der Stadt unzweifelhaft der Schall von Geschützdonner festgestellt worden, einzelne starke Schläge, die dumpf, nicht rollend und tönend über den Brenner herüberklangen. Eine Täuschung ist ausgeschlossen. In Innsbruck selbst ist der Donner der Kanonen schwerer festzustellen, weil hier der Lärm zu groß ist, es wurde aber doch einmal abends ungefähr um 9 Uhr, als einigermaßen Ruhe herrschte, dieser unzweifelhafte von unseren Mörsern herrührender Donner gehört.“

Until the transfer of regular troops from the Eastern Front to the Tyrolean borders, the national defence depended on the Standschützen, a troop made up of men under 21, over 42 or unfit for regular military service. The casualty figures were correspondingly high.

Although the front was relatively far away from Innsbruck, the war also penetrated civilian life. Due to the mass mobilisation of a large part of the working male population, many businesses came to a complete standstill. Shelves in shops remained empty, public transport came to a standstill, craftsmen and labourers were missing everywhere. There was often a shortage of coal and firewood. Hunger and cold became bitter enemies of women, children, the wounded and those unfit for war in the city. This experience of the total involvement of society as a whole was new to the people. Barracks were erected in the Höttinger Au to house prisoners of war. Transports of wounded brought such a large number of horribly injured people that many civilian buildings such as the university library, which was currently under construction, or Ambras Castle were converted into military hospitals. The Pradl military cemetery was established to cope with the large number of fallen soldiers. A predecessor to tram line 3 was set up to transport the wounded from the railway station to the new garrison hospital, today's Conrad barracks in Pradl. The companies that were still able to produce were subordinated to the war economy. However, the longer the war lasted, the fewer there were. By the winter of 1917, Innsbruck's economy had almost completely collapsed.

As the war drew to a close, so did the front. In February 1918, the Italian air force managed to drop three bombs on Innsbruck. In this winter, which was known as Hunger winter When the war went down in European history, the shortages also made themselves felt. In the final years of the war, food was supplied via ration coupons. 500 g of meat, 60 g of butter and 2 kg of potatoes were the basic diet per person - per week, mind you. Archive photos show the long queues of desperate and hungry people outside the food shops. There were repeated protests and strikes. Politicians, trade unionists, workers and war returnees saw their chance for change. Under the motto Peace, bread and the right to vote a wide variety of parties united in resistance to the war. At this time, most people were already aware that the war was lost and what fate awaited Tyrol, as this article from 6 October 1918 shows:

 „Aeußere und innere Feinde würfeln heute um das Land Andreas Hofers. Der letzte Wurf ist noch grausamer; schändlicher ist noch nie ein freies Land geschachert worden. Das Blut unserer Väter, Söhne und Brüder ist umsonst geflossen, wenn dieser schändliche Plan Wirklichkeit werden soll. Der letzte Wurf ist noch nicht getan. Darum auf Tiroler, zum Tiroler Volkstag in Brixen am 13. Oktober 1918 (nächsten Sonntag). Deutscher Boden muß deutsch bleiben, Tiroler Boden muß tirolisch bleiben. Tiroler entscheidet selbst über Eure Zukunft!“

On 4 November, Austria-Hungary and the Kingdom of Italy finally agreed an armistice. This gave the Allies the right to occupy areas of the monarchy. The very next day, Bavarian troops entered Innsbruck. Austria's ally Germany was still at war with Italy and was afraid that the front could be moved closer to the German Reich in North Tyrol. Fortunately for Innsbruck and the surrounding area, however, Germany also surrendered a week later on 11 November. This meant that the major battles between regular armies did not take place.

Nevertheless, Innsbruck was in danger. Huge columns of military vehicles, trains full of soldiers and thousands of emaciated soldiers making their way home from the front on foot passed through the city. Those who could, jumped on one of the overcrowded trains or a car to leave the Brenner Pass behind them to get home. In November 1918, more than 270 soldiers lost their lives during these daring manoeuvres or had to be admitted to one of the city's military hospitals. The city not only had to keep its own citizens in check and guarantee rations, but also protect itself from looting. In order to maintain public order, the Tyrolean National Council formed a People's Army on 5 November made up of schoolchildren, students, workers and citizens. On 23 November 1918, Italian troops occupied the city and the surrounding area. Mayor Greil's appeasement to the people of Innsbruck to surrender the city without rioting was successful. 5000 men had to find shelter in the starving and miserable city. Schools were turned into barracks. Although there were isolated riots, hunger riots and looting, there were no armed clashes with the occupying troops or even a Bolshevik revolution as in Munich.

Over 1200 Innsbruck residents lost their lives on the battlefields and in military hospitals, over 600 were wounded. Memorials to the First World War and its victims can be found in Innsbruck, particularly at churches and cemeteries. The Kaiserjägermuseum on Mount Isel displays uniforms, weapons and pictures of the battle. Streets in Innsbruck are dedicated to the two theologians Anton Müllner and Josef Seeber. A street was also named after the commander-in-chief of the Imperial and Royal Army on the Southern Front, Archduke Eugene. There is a memorial to the unsuccessful commander in front of the Hofgarten. The eastern part of the Amras military cemetery commemorates the Italian occupation.