In a mountain valley between Switzerland and Austria lies one of the most peculiar countries
on Earth.
Liechtenstein is an oddity.
Covering a mere 160 km2, it’s the sixth smallest nation in the world - but it’s
not size that makes this diminutive principality so quirky.
Just check out some of these random facts: it’s the world’s largest producer of dentures.
Its national anthem uses the exact same music as Great Britain’s.
It had to disband its army in the 19th century after sending 80 soldiers to war, only for
81 to somehow return.
If you wanted, you could easily make a top ten video of weird facts about Liechtenstein
and still have enough leftover for a sequel.
But what lies beyond these amusing factoids?
What might you uncover by digging below the surface of Europe’s last absolute monarchy?
Created just 300 years ago by the Holy Roman Emperor, Liechtenstein is a principality that
has lived through dramatic times.
The Napoleonic Wars, the 1848 Revolutions, and Hitler’s rise all left their mark here;
while it was among these mountains that the fate of Alaska was once decided.
Think Liechtenstein is all false teeth and weirdness?
Think again.
The Secret Country
Most of Europe’s microstates only exist today as holdovers from an ancient time.
Monaco and Andorra, for example, were both created in the 13th Century.
Tiny San Marino can trace its history all the way back to 301 AD.
But Liechtenstein is a newcomer.
Created by the fusing of two counties, it was only declared an Independent Principality
in 1719.
So what led this tiny state to spring into existence, and what was there before it?
We’re glad you asked.
The chain of events that led to Liechtenstein arguably began in 15 BC.
That was the year the Roman province of Raetia was forged, encompassing much of modern Switzerland,
Austria, and southern Germany.
But while the valley that is today Liechtenstein was part of Raeita, it was in the same way
that - say - Anderson Valley is part of California.
There was nothing inherently special about it, nothing that would make a passing centurion
declare in Latin “Hey, this might make a great country one day.”
And that remained the case when Raetia collapsed around 500 AD.
It would be several hundred more years before the Liechtenstein valley gained a distinct
identity.
OK, let’s skip ahead to the 13th Century.
What used to be Raetia had now been swallowed up by Central Europe’s new power, the Holy
Roman Empire - a vast, loosely-knit collection of hundreds of mostly-Germanic states.
As part of this process, the Liechtenstein valley had been divided into two separate
lordships: Vaduz and Schellenberg.
But the most important change happened far away from Liechtenstein itself.
Over 500km east, in the imperial city of Vienna, the Habsburg royal family had just found itself
some new advisors.
The House of Liechtenstein held possessions in the Habsburg lands of Moravia, Bohemia,
and Vienna itself.
Aristocratic and deferential, they were an almost perfect fit at the Viennese court.
The only problem?
They owned no land outright, so couldn’t style themselves princes, which meant in turn
no seat at the top, decision-making table.
Fortunately for the Liechtensteins, that would soon change.
Back in Liechtenstein the place, the counties of Vaduz and Schellenberg had fallen onto
hard times.
After passing through many hands, they wound up in possession of the Counts of Hohenems,
who decided the valley was full of heathens and promptly had 180 locals executed for witchcraft.
Luckily, the Counts were as bad with their finances as they were with religious tolerance,
and, in 1699, they put the first of their counties, Schellenberg, up for sale.
It was at this point that the Liechtenstein family saw their chance.
Over in the Habsburg city of Brno, Johann Adam Andreas von Liechtenstein got wind of
the fire sale in the Alps.
He snapped up Schellenberg and, when the Counts of Hohenems were forced to also sell Vaduz,
snapped that up too.
“Well, so what?”
You might be thinking.
“If I go out and buy two plots of land, that doesn’t automatically make me a prince
- no matter how many paper crowns I make.”
But you’re forgetting who the Liechtensteins’ backers were.
By 1699, the Habsburgs had gotten the role of Holy Roman Emperor sewn up inside their
family.
So when their loyal advisor Johann von Liechtenstein came begging them to make him a prince, they
were in a position to grant his wish.
The principality of Liechtenstein came into existence on January 23, 1719.
For the Liechtenstein family, it was the fulfilment of their dreams.
Their golden ticket to a seat at the Holy Roman Empire’s top decision-making table.
But for the peasants living in this brand new thing called Liechtenstein, it was something
else entirely.
No-one had any way of knowing, but this simple act of union between Schellenberg and Vaduz
would change the course of their history for centuries.
A Changing World
If you need an illustration of how the House of Liechtenstein viewed their new principality,
look no further than this bizarre factoid.
Despite becoming Liechtenstein’s rulers in 1719, not a single member of the family
set foot there until 1842.
But just because its owners thought Liechtenstein was nothing more than a way to nab a royal
title doesn’t mean everyone did.
At the beginning of the 19th Century, this tiny principality would catch the eye of someone
far more visionary: Napoleon Bonaparte.
The year was 1806, and Liechtenstein, along with the whole of Central Europe, had just
endured a bruising decade and a half.
In 1789, revolution had broken out in Paris, sending France into a tailspin.
At first, France’s rivals had been all like “ha ha!
Sucks to be you, France!” only to change their tune when radicals seized control and
started talking about overthrowing other European monarchs.
To head this off, Austria issued a stern warning, basically saying “try fighting us and we
will smash you,” only to watch in horror as France had replied with “sure, sounds
like fun,” and declared war in 1792.
And so had begun a series of wars known collectively as the French Revolutionary Wars, but probably
better known to Liechtensteiners as “that time France just kept on invading us.”
From 1792 to 1802, Liechtenstein was repeatedly occupied by French troops.
First under the revolutionary government, and then under Napoleon after his 1799 coup.
But Napoleon wasn’t just a warmonger, here to let his soldiers run riot in this tiny
statelet.
No, he had a plan, one that involved playing upon the Liechtenstein family’s craving
for importance.
A plan known as the Confederation of the Rhine.
On December 2, 1805, the French smashed the Holy Roman Empire’s forces not far from
Johann von Liechtenstein’s old home city of Brno.
In the aftermath, Napoleon dismantled the empire.
But he didn’t just want to leave a power vacuum in Central Europe.
Enter the Confederation of the Rhine.
Comprised of 36 small states, the Confederation was intended as a buffer between France and
the powers of Austria and Prussia.
But to those 36 small states, Napoleon sold it as a chance to rebuild the Holy Roman Empire
on their terms, free from Habsburg domination.
A confederation in which even the tiniest states would be powerful.
How could the Liechtensteins say no?
On July 12, 1806, Liechtenstein became a co-founder of the Confederation.
It was a triumph for the royal household, a sign that one day they might equal the mighty
Habsburgs.
Unfortunately, their subjects felt differently.
Perhaps annoyed at all these French troops who insisted on marching in and pointing guns
at them, the citizens of Liechtenstein rioted…
…only for a bunch of French troops to immediately march in, point guns at them, and disarm the
entire country.
Probably should’ve seen that one coming, guys.
Still, there was an upside to all these French occupations.
In 1809, fellow Confederation member Bavaria decided Liechtenstein was too small to keep
existing, and sent its army in to annex the place.
It should’ve been the end of Liechtenstein as anything but just another valley.
But Napoleon wanted the Confederation to be comprised of small, weak members, not some
new, Bavarian superpower.
So he sent the French troops right back into Liechtenstein, this time to protect it.
It was the little nation’s second major test: after surviving the collapse of the
Holy Roman Empire, it had no survived a Bavarian invasion.
Now it
just needed to survive the downfall of Napoleon himself.
Napoleon’s Ashes
When Napoleon’s empire came crashing down, it was with enough force to reshape Europe.
For little Liechtenstein, the collapse came in mid-October, 1813.
That was when the Sixth Coalition crushed Napoleon at the Battle of Leipzig following
his ill-fated Russia expedition.
In the aftermath, the Confederation of the Rhine was abolished.
For Liechtenstein, this was not super great news.
Without the Confederation - and Napoleon’s protection - what were they?
Just a valley, trapped at the whims of bigger neighbors like Bavaria or Austria.
Luckily, the family still had friends in high places.
At the Congress of Vienna, called to redraw the map of Europe after Napoleon’s defeat,
the Habsburg’s arch manipulator, Metternich, managed to pull some strings to get the Liechtensteins
a seat at the table.
There, they were able to successfully argue that their principality should not be wiped
off the map, but allowed into Metternich’s new German Confederation.
The new Confederation was even weaker than the Rhine Confederation.
Metternich kept it deliberately unwieldy and divided so Austria could easily dominate it.
But, hey, joining a weak confederation was better than just being invaded and swallowed,
so the Liechtenstein princes jumped right onboard.
Yet their citizens were no happier now than they’d been when their masters were brown
nosing Napoleon like pigs hunting for butt-truffles.
The new Confederation wasn’t some paradise.
Although Europe’s rulers were all high-fiving one another over Napoleon’s defeat, on the
ground people were starting to wonder why they’d suffered all those invasions fighting
guys trying to spread human rights.
Slowly, in Liechtenstein as elsewhere, it began to dawn on everyone that maybe being
ruled by absolutist dicks wasn’t the way forward.
The first warning signs appeared in the valley in 1831.
The year before, the restored French monarchy had done what French monarchs do and got deposed
in a revolution.
The reason had been a draconian power grab by King Charles X, who’d swept aside the
post-Napoleon constitution, replacing it with absolutist rule like in Liechtenstein.
So the French had swept him away, and replaced him with his liberal cousin, King Louis-Philippe.
As news of the new French revolution spread, it had sparked copycat uprisings; in Belgium,
Poland, Switzerland.
At last, it was little Liechtenstein’s turn.
On March, 1831, the valley was overwhelmed with riots.
As small buildings were torched, the Liechtenstein revolution was announced.
A petition was drawn up, and sent to Johann I in Vienna, demanding civil rights.
Unfortunately, Johann took one look at the petition and was all like, “uh, NO.”
The distant prince told his subjects that he’d ask his Habsburg pals to send in the
Austrian army.
He signed a decree bringing back the practice of quartering for anyone who demonstrated.
In France, such threats probably would’ve spurred the revolutionaries onto greater heights.
But in poor, rural, barely populated Liechtenstein?
Faced with these threats, the revolution fizzled out.
Liechtenstein’s people went back to doleful obedience.
But you know how a major earthquake is sometimes announced by a foreshock - a smaller earthquake
that merely signals the Big One is on its way?
Well, Johann I didn’t know it, but the 1831 Revolution was one such warning.
When the Big One finally hit, it was gonna be bigger than he could’ve possibly guessed.
Broken Dreams
There’s a Geographics and Biographics drinking game you can play if you hate your liver.
Simply take a drink every time 1848 comes up, and then keep right on drinking, because
it’s the only way you’ll ever be able to understand that crazy, world-changing year.
It started in France, as these things always do.
That February, 1848, Louis-Philippe’s government banned freedom of assembly, which had the
ironic effect of making a whole ton of mobs assemble in Paris.
Days later, Louis-Philippe was gone, and France was chalking up revolution number three.
And, just as with revolution two in 1830, it wouldn’t be confined to France.
The second to go was Austria.
A massive uprising in Vienna led to Metternich’s fall, in turn triggering violent revolts across
the German Confederation.
That included Liechtenstein.
Things ignited on March 22, 1848.
That day, Liechtenstein’s citizens banded together, declared an uprising, and elected
representatives.
These representatives then contacted the new Prince, Alois II and basically said “look,
we’re doing this.
Wanna try and stop us like that dick Johann did?”
Alois took one look at the violence sweeping Europe, and wisely kept his mouth shut.
By June that year, Liechtenstein was sending representatives to the newly-declared German
Assembly in Frankfurt.
The goal was to unite all the German-speaking states not into a confederation, but a single
country.
A single Germany where rights would be respected, an no man be a king or prince.
It was an exciting time, a time when everything felt possible.
When it really seemed the peoples of Prussia, Austria, and all the little states of the
German Confederation might pull together into one lederhosen wearing whole.
Alas, it was not to be.
The death of the dream of a united, liberal Germany is sordid enough to fill an entire
video.
Suffice to say, it was dead by spring of 1849, as the forces of counterrevolution gained
the upper hand in both Austria and Prussia.
In tiny Liechtenstein, the dream chugged on a little longer.
With Germany a bust, the citizens tried forcing a new constitution on Alois II.
In fairness, it was a pretty non radical document.
For example, it allowed the prince to keep his veto.
But even this was too much for Alois.
While he allowed the Liechtensteiners to play their games and hold their first free elections,
he was merely waiting until the revolutions of 1848 had receded far enough to not pose
a danger.
In summer of 1852, Alois suddenly annulled the Liechtenstein constitution.
By now, just about all the revolutions of 1848 had been crushed.
The hope that had swept the continent had been replaced with inky black despair.
In Austria, neo-absolutism was on the rise under the new emperor.
Seeing which way the wind was blowing, the citizens of Lichtenstein simply gave up.
Accepted that they’d been beaten, that civilian rule was impossible in their tiny, tortured
principality.
The very next year, Alois II signed a customs agreement with Austria, turning Liechtenstein
into little more than a province of its bigger neighbor - independent in name only.
It looked like the country’s fate was set.
There was just one teeny tiny problem.
The Austrian empire wasn’t gonna be around much longer.
In the Shadow of Empire
Spending the next half century as Austria’s rump meant a weird ride for the people of
Liechtenstein.
Its princes tended to follow Vienna’s lead.
So when Emperor Franz Josef did something completely unexpected, like abandoning neo-absolutism
in 1862, it meant Liechtensteiners suddenly getting the constitution Alois had fought
them tooth and nail over just 12 years earlier.
On the other hand, it also meant being forced to fight alongside Austria during wartime,
which happened during the Austro-Prussian War of 1866.
Incidentally, its this war that Liechtenstein’s most-famous anecdote comes from: that Vaduz
sent 80 men to fight, only for 81 to return when the troops made a friend along the way.
While the story may be apocryphal, it’s certainly true the Liechtenstein army was
disbanded shortly after.
But closeness to Austria did have some advantages.
Take the unification of Germany.
Back in the heady days of 1848, it was assumed that all the German-speaking nations would
unite, including Austria and Liechtenstein.
But when unification came not long after the Austro-Prussian War, Otto von Bismarck refused
to let Austria join.
Since Liechtenstein had no natural border with other German states, that meant no Liechtenstein
in Germany by default.
Bad news for Liechtenstein’s German nationalists.
Great news for fans of microstates.
Closeness with Austria also meant closeness with Austria’s allies, including imperial
Russia.
In 1867, this led to one of our favorite moments of weird history when Russia tried to just
give Liechtenstein Alaska.
Seriously, the Tsar was all like “hmm what am I gonna do with this huge swathe of North
America?
I know!
Give it to Liechtenstein.”
Fortunately for history, Liechtenstein demurred, and the Russians sold it to America instead.
Come 1914, Liechtenstein and Austria were so close that most European powers didn’t
even consider them separate.
Liechtenstein was basically regarded as a part of Austria the Habsburgs had allowed
to keep nominal independence purely due to their historic good relations with the House
of Liechtenstein.
This was fine, right up until Austria got dragged into a catastrophic war.
WWI broke out in July, 1914.
Although Liechtenstein was technically neutral, the prince saw no need to declare this, since
it was obvious the war would both be short, and end with an Austro-Hungarian victory.
You can probably see where this is going.
The war caused such shortages in Austria that it was unable to keep supplying Liechtenstein
with food and essentials.
Then, when Liechtenstein tried to pivot to Switzerland, the Allies declared the microstate
an enemy power and forbid the Swiss from trading with it.
The result was a collapse in the economy.
The one major local industry - textiles - went under.
There were food shortages, unrest on the streets.
When 1918 ended with Austria-Hungary’s shock defeat, Liechtenstein had to scramble to escape
the empire’s collapse.
Like a drowning man casting about wildly for anything to grab hold of, the principality
grasped onto Switzerland, entering a custom’s union with its more-stable neighbor.
The result was a massive pivot away from Vienna, and toward Bern.
But while becoming Switzerland’s new groupie would ultimately save the economy, not everyone
was so ready to leave Austrian culture behind.
Especially not now post-Habsburg Austria was drifting toward the very, very far right.
Yep.
It’s time for the Nazis to enter the picture.
And you better believe they caused as much trouble in this one narrow valley as they
did everywhere.
The Modern State
The March Crisis of 1938 may be the defining moment in Liechtenstein’s modern history.
Up to that point, things could’ve gone either way with the Third Reich.
Like in Austria, plenty of Liechtensteiners were disgusted by Hitler, but plenty more
wanted to join his Nazi state.
But then the Crisis happened, and Liechtenstein was finally forced to pick a side.
You know the March Crisis as the Anschluss - the night Germany annexed Austria.
But while Austria was absorbed easily into the Reich, Liechtenstein decided at the last
second that it didn’t want to go.
It was a close-run thing.
The microstate’s far right - flush with the recent murder of two Jews - attempted
a coup to unite with Hitler’s Germany.
But, in the end, they failed simply because Hitler couldn’t care less if Liechtenstein
joined his glorious empire or not.
This tiny valley wanted to fart around pretending to be Switzerland, did it?
Well, let them.
The March Crisis ended with the House of Liechtenstein fleeing Vienna and settling in Vaduz.
It was the first time in history that the principality’s rulers had actually lived
there full time.
As WWII got underway, the new prince - Francis Josef II - did everything in his power to
keep Liechtenstein neutral.
On the icky side, this meant Francis Josef sending Hitler congratulatory telegrams every
time he won a victory.
On the other hand, it meant opening the country’s borders to 120 Jewish refugees.
A small number, sure, but 120 more than the far right wanted them to take.
By and large, this approach worked.
Although 100 Liechtensteiners would go off to fight for Nazi Germany, including 60 in
the Waffen SS, no German tanks ever entered this tiny nation.
The craziest days for the principality came at the very end of the war.
After 8,000 refugees fled into Liechtenstein, there was a stand-off with the Red Army, who
were demanding Soviet defectors be weeded out and returned.
Around the same time, word also reached Vaduz from liberated Czechoslovakia.
There, the newly-returned government had expropriated all the House of Liechtenstein’s holdings;
a “screw you” to the princes for not helping in the war effort.
The royal family now had no choice but to stay in Vaduz.
Come the end of 1945, then, Liechtenstein was acknowledged as a small, impoverished,
and neutral country that wasn’t part of Austria or Switzerland, but wasn’t really
anything else.
It was time to finally start forging a national identity.
The identity Francis Josef eventually came up with can be summed up in four words: Rich,
boring, and absolutist.
The boring part was surprisingly easy.
After their brush with the far-right, Liechtenstein’s civilian government never wanted to let any
wackos near the levers of power again.
They began what effectively amounted to an endless powershare, eventually moving so close
to one another on most major issues that politics fell quiet.
That done, it was time to make the country rich.
On the positive side, this was achieved by putting forward a rapid industrialization
plan, and working with Swiss manufacturers.
On the way negative side, it was done by =helping guys like Pablo Escobar use the banking system
to launder unbelievable amounts of money.
As a result, Liechtenstein was on tax haven blacklists until finally reforming only after
2008.
Finally, the absolutism came in 2003.
After Prince Hans Adam II took over from his father in 1989, he kept arguing for more powers
until the government threw it open to a referendum.
The shock result was a 64% win for Hans Adam, effectively allowing him to become an absolute
monarch.
This was followed by another referendum in which voters granted him the further power
to veto referenda.
Kinda makes all that revolting and dying for rights back in 1830 and 1848 seem super pointless,
huh?
Today, Liechtenstein remains as stable, and as rich as Francis Josef II would’ve wished.
According to the CIA’s World Factbook, it has the highest GDP per capita of any nation
on Earth.
Its economy is robust, its politics stable, and its people mostly content.
No wonder it has a dull reputation.
But, again, this is just the surface.
Dig a little deeper and, as we’ve seen today, you’ll find one of the most-fascinating
states in existence.
A place that’s both Europe’s only absolute monarchy; and the last surviving remnant of
the Holy Roman Empire.
It’s a place that’s seen wars, revolutions, and transformations out of all proportion
to its size.
And yet it still remains standing, a valley in the Alps that is a country unto itself.
It can be easy, when you live in America or Britain or - heck - anywhere that isn’t
Liechtenstein, to assume that history is something that only happens to the key players.
Something only worth learning about when it involves powerful nations.
In the story of Liechtenstein, we can see this isn’t the case.
It may be a mere speck on the map of Europe, but Liechtenstein has lived through more than
many countries a thousand times its size.