Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany, along with other twentieth-century authoritarian regimes, have often attempted to create consensus through propagandistic reinterpretations of the classical past. The Fascist appropriation of romanità and Nazi philhellenism were not only conditioned by prior cultural receptions of antiquity, but were also a key political tool in motivating and mobilising citizens to fulfil the aims of the fascist state. Once Fascism and Nazism had fallen, the material legacies of both regimes then became the object of destruction, reinterpretation and memory work. Thus, the archaeological and architectural heritage of these regimes, now tainted by their ideology, has not only suffered the consequences of damnatio memoriae in the aftermath of regime change, but continues even today to inflame contemporary public debate. This special issue represents the product of an interdisciplinary workshop exploring these themes, which was held at Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge, on 8 June 2018.

Roaring flames, thousands of uniformed men, political speeches demanding a union of Germany and Austria, and an enthusiastic and cheering crowd of Germans and Austrians assembled together listening to the words 'For us Germans in Austria, a powerful impulse prevails to return once again to the Reich' is how Erin Hochman evocatively introduces readers to her book (p. 1). One immediately thinks of the theatrical National Socialist political rallies that aimed to bolster support for the eventual annexation of Austria by neighboring Nazi Germany in March 1938. The fact that the event described at the opening of the book took place in the centre of Germany in 1925 without any Nazis present is surprising, and it is within this contextboth forgotten and unexamined-that Hochman offers a nuanced argument that complicates traditional narratives of politics and nationalism in inter-war Austria and Germany. Hochman asserts that the Anschluß was not uniquely of Nazi provenance; rather, the union of Germany and Austria was a shared geopolitical ambition of rival movements that adhered to an altogether different type of nationalism. Hochman employs the term alldeutsch (pan-German) to represent a militaristic, conservative, and imperialistic interpretation of nationalism, which she ascribes to National Socialism, whereas großdeutsch (greater German) drew on the spirit of a cooperative, internationalist, and peaceful form of nationalism that would support the League of Nations and operate lawfully (p. 3). Hochman classifies this latter form as 'republican nationalism'. Generally, the book attempts to debunk the idea that Nazi Germany absorbing Austria was inescapable, and instead argues that republican nationalism both within Austria and outside, in Germany, offered a popular and alternative pathway towards union, distinct in content and character from that taken by the Third Reich in 1938. By exploring this alternative vision of Anschluß, Hochman aims to bridge gaps in the traditional scholarly narrative of an inter-war period polarized between the socialist left and conservative right. Contingents from both sides melded to form a composite political momentum towards republicanism in the First and Weimar Republics, which 'sought to popularize democracy in the wake of a disastrous and bitter defeat'.(3) Hochman's central thesis is that the desire for unification between the two states lay at the core of republicans' political ambitions and philosophy, which was framed by the großdeutsch worldview. Unlike the Nazis, who prioritized the reclamation of territories lost after the First World War, Hochman contends

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