Armin Grünbacher

Cold-War Economics: The Use of Marshall Plan Counterpart Funds in Germany, 1948–1960

The originally propagated view that the Marshall Plan was an altruistic endeavor through which the U.S. saved Europe from collapse and starvation has long been dismissed and replaced with a more realistic approach to international affairs. Whereas Realpolitik and the perception of the evermore menacing Cold War made it inevitable that Marshall Plan aid and its counterpart funds would become a weapon in the ideological conflict of the two political ideologies, the overwhelming body of literature looks at the Marshall Plan either from a political and diplomatic or from an economic viewpoint. Beyond general statements that the Marshall Plan was used as a weapon in the Cold War, relatively little research has been carried out into how this weapon was wielded. This is even truer for the counterpart funds, which are usually only mentioned in passing in the literature, if at all. This is despite the fact that Marshall Aid in general and the counterpart funds in particular had actually quite a significant impact in Cold-War propaganda and economic matters in Western Europe, which most likely contributed to the declining appeal of communism. This article will look at the specific action of American and, after September 1949, German authorities in the use of counterpart funds to demonstrate their significance.

Sustaining the Island: Western aid to 1950s West Berlin

The city of West Berlin was of supreme importance to the United States and the Federal Republic of Germany in their effort to fight the Cold War during the 1950s. Only by utilizing billions of dollars and (later on) Deutschmarks could the city survive in its isolated position east of the Iron Curtain. The reasons for, and the particulars of, American aid during the first years after the Berlin airlift is described in this paper as well as the West German aid, which began to replace direct American support in the middle of the 1950s.

Review: Kim Coleman, IG Farben and ICI, 1925—53. Strategies for Growth and Survival, Palgrave Macmillan: Basingstoke, 2006; xxiv + 225 pp.; 9780230003293, £50.00 (hbk)

perceptions of Nazi Germany, where early critical observations gave way to unabashedly positive ones – a change dictated by the rapprochement between the two countries. In general, travel writers constantly referred back to Fascist Italy, as when they portrayed Soviet Russia and the US as ‘models of modernity in operation’ that challenged traditional societal structures, giving rise to fears and anxieties. Burdett argues that such comparisons presented Fascism as a third way to modernity and that, for many writers, Fascism was a guarantor for continuity with tradition. Such a stance comes into plain view in reports from the Spanish Civil War, where the concern for Catholicism was central and writers depicted a melodramatic struggle between good and evil. While focusing on travel writers’ manifest, albeit complex and contradictory identifications with Fascism, Burdett is also aware of alternate sensibilities which operated outside and besides the Fascist imaginary. This different consciousness was for instance evident during the Spanish Civil War, when stories other than those reported by travel writers encouraged ‘an awareness of a different kind of conflict’ (174) among large segments of the Italian population. Burdett’s analysis fits into a broader endeavour to study Italian culture under Fascism, though it stands out for its perceptiveness and insight. His study is genuinely interdisciplinary and will appeal to both literary scholars and historians.

Review of Coleman, K. (2006) IG Farben and ICI, 1925-53. Strategies for growth and Survival

perceptions of Nazi Germany, where early critical observations gave way to unabashedly positive ones – a change dictated by the rapprochement between the two countries. In general, travel writers constantly referred back to Fascist Italy, as when they portrayed Soviet Russia and the US as ‘models of modernity in operation’ that challenged traditional societal structures, giving rise to fears and anxieties. Burdett argues that such comparisons presented Fascism as a third way to modernity and that, for many writers, Fascism was a guarantor for continuity with tradition. Such a stance comes into plain view in reports from the Spanish Civil War, where the concern for Catholicism was central and writers depicted a melodramatic struggle between good and evil. While focusing on travel writers’ manifest, albeit complex and contradictory identifications with Fascism, Burdett is also aware of alternate sensibilities which operated outside and besides the Fascist imaginary. This different consciousness was for instance evident during the Spanish Civil War, when stories other than those reported by travel writers encouraged ‘an awareness of a different kind of conflict’ (174) among large segments of the Italian population. Burdett’s analysis fits into a broader endeavour to study Italian culture under Fascism, though it stands out for its perceptiveness and insight. His study is genuinely interdisciplinary and will appeal to both literary scholars and historians.