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.
Isn't Vatican City an absolute monarchy too?
Vatican city: am I a joke to you?
Also our very own tax heaven.