A Tale of Two Bälle

Last night, I went to the TU-Ball in the Hofburg. I don't want to wax too poetic about it; I primarily want you to look at these pictures, tell me I looked stunning in my dress, and be jealous that my life is basically a fairy tale / something out of a Jane Austen novel:

Our ball tickets were heavily subsidized by the Austrian Fulbright Alumni Association, so we all got ready for and went to the ball together.

As is traditional, the ball was opened with a skilled waltz by couples in white

Then the floor opened for everyone to dance

And I do mean everyone. I can't decide if I like waltzing myself better, or watching couples waltz from a distance. So stunning.

I had never understood what nobility did all day -- but with a ball beginning at around 10 pm and lasting until 5 am, there's not much "day" to be had. You wake up late, nap, get ready, spend your night drinking and dancing, and repeat.

Now, I don't have a von in my name, but I did return to the Hofburg tonight, not to attend a ball, but to protest one. It was the day of the Akademikerball, put on by the FPÖ for their cronies at the Wiener Korporationsring.

What is that, you ask? It's a fraternity council -- a fechtende, deutschnationale fraternity council. In the late nineteenth century, when college students followed the modernist spirit and began organizing themselves into social clubs, American fraternities decided to style themselves on Classical Greece. German and Austrian clubs (known as Burschenschaften), on the other hand, looked to German culture as a unifying point, and thought it would be a cool idea to learn fencing and wear silly hats. Then history happened, and it became very problematic for Austrians to express their desire for a Großdeutschland, or to talk about German, rather than Austrian, Heimatliebe. The Burschenschaften didn't care, though, and so became a social outlet for some pretty right-wing figures. And, as with Harvard final clubs, the alumni are almost as important as the current students; there are quite a few old men running around in their colored caps as well. Some of them have even gained prominence in the FPÖ -- in fact, it's the Burschenschaften that are the primary link between the FPÖ and the extreme right-wing scene.

Walking through the Innenstadt on the night of the demo was quite the surreal experience. The entire Ringstraße was closed off, giving the city an empty feel. There were anarchists / antifa in their leather jackets and mohawks milling about outside the gates of Heldenplatz in their various basis groups. A group of around 100 people had linked arms and was barricading the entrance to the Hofburg in front of Michaelerplatz -- although the actual ball entrance was at a different location, at Josefsplatz. And on Heldenplatz itself, a stage had been set up for a series of more academic-style readings about the dangers of fascism and excessive nationalism.

Thousands of people. On Heldenplatz. I won't deny that it was a little creepy, and that I didn't sneak a look to the balcony near the top of the Nationalbibliothek -- empty now, and probably forevermore.

Together, though, these two ball experiences have shown me another side of Vienna and its Umgang with history. This city isn't just a living memorial to a bygone era; it's constantly redefining and recycling this history to serve its current needs. We might carry on the traditions of Imperial Austria, but only because they're our traditions, too. The Hofburg is our palace now, not the Kaiser's, and why not celebrate that by dancing a kaiserlichen waltz there?

And then tonight, thousands of people demonstrated on Heldenplatz. Against Nazis. So passionately against Austria ever again becoming fascist that they barracaded streets with their bodies, got arrested, and even hounded various functionaries on their way to the ball with stink and color bomb attacks. Talk about Wandel.