Austria: The Rising Power of Right-Wing Fraternities
SOURCE:Spiegel International
FPÖ politician Walter Rosenkranz occupies Austria's second-highest political office despite his membership in a German-nationalist fraternity. Such organizations have recently been gaining in power in Austria. And Germany as well.
For a brief moment, the Austrian National Council president seems slightly troubled by the sight of demonstrators in front of the monument. It is November 8, 2024, in Vienna and Walter Rosenkranz has arrived at a memorial for Jewish victims of the Shoah to lay a wreath. But a group of people, arms linked, has assembled in front of the concrete structure to block his path. One of them is Bini Guttmann, a grandson of Holocaust survivors. "We don’t want you to spit in the face of our ancestors,” he calls out to Rosenkranz.
Jewish demonstrators at the memorial to Shoah victims in Vienna.
Foto: Eva Manhart / dpa
Rosenkranz, who was 62 years old at the time, is a parliamentarian with the right-wing populist Freedom Party of Austria (FPÖ). He begins speaking with the demonstrators, demanding that they clear the way as Austrian public broadcaster ORF films the scene. Guttmann and the others refuse to back down and ultimately, Rosenkranz retreats without laying his wreath.
Controversial National Council President
The incident took place two weeks after Rosenkranz had been elected as National Council president, the second highest political office in Austria and comparable with the Bundestag president in Germany or the speaker of the house in the U.S. The National Council president signs new laws in addition to chairing investigative committees and sessions of parliament.
Many people in Austria seen Rosenkranz as a danger to democracy. Not just because he is a member of the right-wing nationalist FPÖ, which has been part of the political spectrum in Austria for decades, but also because of the scar on his left cheek. Such marks are an element of the so-called mensur, a combative masculinity ritual practiced in fencing fraternities. Also known as academic fencing, combatants battle with a sharp blade, leaving parts of their faces unprotected. Rosenkranz has belonged to such a fraternity since his youth.
Such groups are known in Austria as "Burschenschaften,” and their members – exclusively male – see themselves as members of the societal elite. Their absolute numbers are relatively insignificant, with an estimated 1,000 such student groups in the German-speaking world, and only around a quarter of them Burschenschaften. But in comparison with other fraternities – like Corps or Landsmannschaften – Burschenschaften are considered to be especially political. In Austria, there are around 4,000 Burschenschaft members.
Despite the low total, however, an outsized number of Burschenschaft members can be found in positions of political responsibility in Austria. Indeed, at least 38 senior FPÖ members also hold fraternity memberships. In the National Council, the party’s faction contains more Burschenschaft members than women. And in the person of Walter Rosenkranz, the fraternities have now managed to occupy a top political position in the country. Are right-wing fraternity members poised to take over power in Austria? How dangerous are they?
The article you are reading originally appeared in German in issue 41/2025 (October 2nd, 2025) of DER SPIEGEL.
Libertas fraternity headquarters can be found in a small side street in central Vienna, surrounded by hipster cafés and staid restaurants. This is the group that Rosenkranz joined as a young university student. Joining a fraternity like this one begins with a probationary period, with full membership then attained following a theory exam and an initial mensur, a fencing duel. Membership is for life. Most Burschenschaften keep their doors closed and are not fond of speaking with journalists, but the head of Libertas agreed to provide DER SPIEGEL with a look inside the fraternity house.
Libertas fraternity headquarters, right in the heart of Vienna.
Foto: Helena Lea Manhartsberger / DER SPIEGEL
Dieter Derntl, a 62-year-old wearing a suitcoat and thin, round glasses, opens the heavy wooden door, a labrador wagging its tail next to him. "I hope you aren’t afraid of dogs,” he says as he leads the way up to the common room on the first floor, a large, wood-paneled space with parquet flooring and several long tables surrounded by chairs. There is a bar with its own beer tap. Black, red and gold badges and ribbons hang on the walls, along with dozens of framed portraits of members.
One of the photos shows Walter Rosenkranz in a typical uniform: a tilted cap on his head and the sash of his Burschenschaft slung across his chest. Derntl says that he lived in the fraternity house at the same time as Rosenkranz, adding that they enjoyed partying together into the early morning hours.
Currently, eight students are living in the house, the active members. They have a number of fraternity-related chores to perform to keep the Burschenschaft going, including organizing events, sending out letters – and, of course, learning to fence.
Head of the Libertas Burschenschaft Dieter Derntl.
Foto: Helena Lea Manhartsberger / DER SPIEGEL
Derntl heads down the stairs into the cellar. A musty smell hangs in the air. This is where the mensurs are fought, the duels that differentiate fencing fraternities from non-fencing fraternities. Protective helmets and sables – with dull blades for training – are hanging on the walls of the arched vaults, though the duels themselves are fought with sharp blades. There are no winners and losers in these duels, Derntl explains. It’s a ritual in which active members demonstrate their loyalty to the Burschenschaft and confront their fears. As such, the resulting facial scars are worn with pride. Several such fencing duels take place every semester in the Libertas basement, says Derntl, with the active members taking on students from other Burschenschaften.
The basement at fraternity headquarters is where the fencing duels take place.
Foto: Helena Lea Manhartsberger / DER SPIEGEL
Like the rest of the house, the cellar seems rather dusty – not exactly, at first glance, the kind of place where a secretive elite gathers to hatch plots. Derntl claims that membership is open to all students – except for women, of course – who identify with the Burschenschaft’s values. The values are honor, freedom and fatherland. "Fatherland means as far as the German language extends, irrespective of national borders.”
German-Nationalist Ideology
From the perspective of critics, that is exactly what makes Burschenschaften like Libertas so problematic: They see themselves as being ethno-nationalist. As adhering to an ideology that includes "a concept of the fatherland tied to the ethnic nation,” says Bernhard Weidinger of the Documentation Center of Austrian Resistance (DÖW), a foundation headquartered in Vienna that conducts research into right-wing extremism. The term "fatherland,” says Weidinger, does not refer to the present-day boundaries of the German nation, but to the areas historically settled by German-speaking peoples. Including Austria.
Black-red-gold: The colors of the fraternity.
Foto:
Helena Lea Manhartsberger / DER SPIEGEL
There are historical reasons for that: Burschenschaften came into being at universities in the 19th century during an era of territorial fragmentation, and they were demanding a unified German empire. The question as to who should be considered a German and who should not, though, became increasingly important. Externally, the Burschenschaften identified a clear distinction with the French, while internally, that line was increasingly drawn between the Germans and the Jews. In 1878, Libertas became one of the first Burschenschaften to introduce an "Aryan clause” to its charter, which clear excluded Jews from the fraternity.
Today, Derntl claims, the Aryan clause has long since been jettisoned. Germans with migration backgrounds, he insists, are of course welcome at Libertas, as are German Jews.
Elsewhere in the fraternity landscape, however, the situation isn’t nearly as clear as Derntl’s description of Libertas. The question as to who belongs to the fatherland is one that continues to be energetically debated at the ethno-nationalist Burschenschaften. Indeed, that debate led to a split 14 years ago in the Deutsche Burschenschaft, the largest and oldest fraternity umbrella association.
At the time, a fraternity called Hansea Mannheim wanted to throw another fraternity out of the association for allegedly having accepted a "member of Chinese origins,” a "non-German,” into the "ranks of the German Burschenschaft.” In an additional application, the fraternity petitioned for a vote on including "German ancestry” as a requirement for membership. The application was supported by a report assembled by the association’s legal committee.

A right-wing sticker in fraternity headquarters: "Politicians are liable for their refugees."
Foto: Helena Lea Manhartsberger / DER SPIEGEL
When DER SPIEGEL reported on the matter in 2011, it triggered an uproar far beyond the fraternity scene, and the resulting pressure led the Burschenschaft to withdraw its application. Inside the umbrella association, though, the conflict continued to smolder. At its core, the key question was: Who is considered a German? Is citizenship or ancestry the key criterion? Many Austrian Burschenschaften at the time opted to join the racists.
Anti-Semitic Songbooks
By mid-2013, around 30 fraternities from the national-liberal camp had left the umbrella association in protest over the ethno-nationalist factions. "After this wave of departures,” says Weidinger, the DÖW expert, "the remaining collective of German Burschenschaften can be considered as right-wing extremist.”
The umbrella organization Deutsche Burschenschaft still represents more than 60 fraternities in Austria and Germany, around half the total number. Libertas, the Burschenschaft to which Walter Rosenkranz belongs, remains a member as well. Fraternities from the umbrella association have repeatedly found themselves in the sights of the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution (BfV), the German domestic security agency that monitors right-wing extremism. And there have also been several anti-Semitic incidents in the Burschenschaften. In 2018, songbooks appeared in two Austrian fraternities that contained lyrics glorifying the Holocaust. There are also numerous intersections between Burschenschaften and groups from the New Right, like the Identitarian Movement.
Burschenschaft members on a torch parade.
Foto: Michael Reichel / dpa
In Germany, the right-wing political party Alternative for Germany has put wind in the sails of German-nationalist fraternities. While Burschenschaften do not publish membership lists, making it impossible to say exactly how many fraternity members hold seats in German parliaments for the AfD, a 2024 investigation by German public broadcaster ARD found that at least 50 AfD representatives in German federal and state parliaments had links to fraternities. Most of them were members of Burschenschaften, many of which are part of the umbrella organization Deutsche Burschenschaften. They are joined by another 60 staff members working for AfD lawmakers, some of them with access to important information.
The group includes politicians like the AfD group leader in Rhineland-Palatinate state parliament, Jan Bollinger, who openly declares his affiliation with German-nationalist fraternities. In one video posted on Facebook, he says: "Burschenschaft members fight for honor, freedom, fatherland. As such, they belong in the AfD.” The party uses fraternity houses for closed-door meetings – while Burschenschaft members contribute to the AfD’s ongoing drift to the right. Still, this influence in Germany is small in comparison to the power that fraternity members have wielded for decades in Austria.
The Burschenschaft Ball
In March 2025, women in long evening gowns accompanied by men wearing caps askew on their heads could be seen parading across the red carpet into the Hofburg in Vienna. In the sumptuous, stucco-detailed rooms inside, chandeliers hung from the ceilings and flags bedecked the walls. Once the ball was officially opened, the FPÖ A-listers arrived: the party’s general secretary, the head of the Vienna chapter, the European parliamentarians. Walter Rosenkranz said a few words of welcome, after which the waltzing continued late into the night.

Protesters rallying against the "Academic Ball."
Foto: Herbert P. Oczeret / dpa / picture alliance
The FPÖ has been hosting the Burschenschaft ball since 2013, officially called the "Academic Ball.” It has become symbolic of the deep connections between the party and the German-nationalist Burschenschaften. But where do these links come from?
Journalist and author Hans-Hennig Scharsach from Vienna has written several books on the subject, one of which is called "Stille Machtergreifung,” or "Quiet Power Grab.” The infiltration, as he describes it, can be traced back to the very beginnings of the party, when the FPÖ emerged in 1955 from the Federation of Independents, a party may up of ex-Nazis. Many Burschenschaft members had belonged to the NSDAP during the Third Reich and were looking for a new political home. And the FPÖ welcomed them with open arms. In the party’s early decades, though, it was frequently beset by groups splintering off in addition to internal battles between the German nationalist camp and the economic liberals.
Under the leadership of FPÖ chair Jörg Haider, right-wing Burschenschaft members gained influence in the party in the mid-1980s. Later, though, Haider moved to dial back their leverage, eager as he was to transform the FPÖ into a right-wing populist party. That aim didn’t match up well with the fraternities’ dreams of a greater Germany. Ultimately, of course, Haider splintered off from the main party before then losing his life in a car accident in 2008. And his successor, Heinz-Christian Strache, a member of the fencing fraternity Vandalia in Vienna, handed the Burschenschaften more influence in the FPÖ than they had ever before enjoyed. In 2018, when Strache was vice chancellor, more than a third of all FPÖ parliamentarians were members of a fencing fraternity.
Former FPÖ leader Heinz-Christian Strache in 2019.
Foto: Christian Bruna / REX / EPA-EFE
These days, Herbert Kickl is head of the party. Neither is he a Burschenschaft member, nor is he particularly fond of the beery fraternity milieu. Still, he hasn’t taken any steps to disempower the Burschenschaften, says Scharsach, the author. Loyal fraternity members are simply too valuable, Scharsach says: "The party continues to essentially be led by Burschenschaft members.”
One of those who has direct experience with that reality is Alexis Pascuttini. He spent several years as a politician with the FPÖ and he is also a member of a fencing Corps. Corps are also university student organizations and are similar to Burschenschaften, but they see themselves as being less political. The 29-year-old Pascuttini works as a lawyer and local politician in Graz. DER SPIEGEL met with him in his office in early August. Pascuttini was wearing a white shirt with jeans, and a small scar was visible on his forehead. From a fencing duel, he says.
He became interested in FPÖ politics as a teenager, Pascuttini says. "I wanted to join the party, but at 15, I was still too young.” The local party leader suggested that he join a student organization for others of his age.
It was this group, he says, that later led him to the fencing Corps in Graz, called Vandalia. The Corps was home to a number of prominent FPÖ members, including lawmakers from the National Council and the European Parliament in addition to the deputy state leader from Upper Austria. Pascuttini’s "Leibbursch,” a kind of mentor within the fraternity, worked as the city party secretary in Graz.
Alexis Pascuttini made the mistake of serving the electorate instead of the fraternity.
Foto: Florian Sulzer / DER SPIEGEL
Not quite three years later, Pascuttini was offered a post with the FPÖ in Graz. In his new job as deputy district leader, he says, he suddenly realized that everyone around him was a member of a fraternity. The head of the city chapter, also a Burschenschaft member, had appointed almost exclusively fraternity members to positions of importance. "I was also only accepted because I was in a Corps,” says Pascuttini. "They were certain that I was someone who would follow orders.”
In the fraternities, loyalty is the highest principle. And Pascuttini now believes he knows why the head of the FPÖ chapter in the city surrounded himself with such devoted servants. In fall 2021, Graz was rocked by an FPÖ financial scandal involving the suspected embezzlement of 1.8 million euros in taxpayer money. State prosecutors launched investigations into 18 people in the FPÖ orbit. Despite insisting on their innocence, the entire FPÖ leadership in Graz resigned – leading to Pascuttini’s unexpected rise from deputy district head to the party’s "Klubchef” on the city council, essentially the FPÖ’s floor leader in city parliament.
"They wanted me to bring calm to the party,” he says. But his loyalty wasn’t first and foremost to the FPÖ. It was to the citizens. He says he did what he could to find out where the money had gone, but not everyone in the party was supportive of that effort. "It was made clear to me that I should stop.” One year after he had been made Klubchef, Pascuttini was thrown out of the FPÖ.
The Price for Rebellion
Investigations into the financial scandal are ongoing and Pascuttini is now trying to push the inquiry forward from outside the FPÖ. But in doing so, he hasn’t just attracted the ire of his former party, but also of his fraternity.
The Vandalia chair warned him on several occasions, Pascuttini says, telling him that the investigation is harmful to the entire fraternity scene and demanding that he stay out of it. "At some point, it was made clear to me that I should renounce my membership in Vandalia so as not to damage the fraternity.” It was, he says, the moment when he clearly understood that for the fraternities, loyalty stands above all else.
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Neither the FPÖ in Graz nor the Vandalia Corps chose to comment on the accusations when contacted by DER SPIEGEL. In August 2024, Pascuttini drafted a letter declaring his resignation from Vandalia before then stuffing his membership sash into an envelope and sending it by mail to fraternity headquarters. He sees it as the price he had to pay for his rebellion.
Those who do demonstrate loyalty, by contrast, can expect to be rewarded. That, at least, seems to have been the case with Walter Rosenkranz. The long-time parliamentarian and defense attorney has developed a reputation within the FPÖ as a reliable party soldier. In elections last fall, the far right FPÖ became the strongest political party in Austria for the first time, giving it the right to appoint the National Council president. Party leaders chose Rosenkranz.
Flag parade in 1935 on the occasion of the 75th anniversary of the fraternity Deutsche Turnerschaft Coburg.
Foto: Scherl / SZ Photo / picture alliance
He is widely considered to have staunchly right-wing views. In 2009, Rosenkranz published a piece in a Burschenschaft anniversary anthology in which he praised several National Socialists. In 2011, he wrote a text for the right-wing extremist newspaper Aula. On another occasion, he defended his Burschenschaft against criticism because it had awarded a prize to a right-wing extremist youth organization.
Raw Tone
Rosenkranz gave his first longform interview as National Council president to the anti-Semitic Austrian broadcaster AUF1, a mouthpiece for the New Right. The first international guest he received in parliament was Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán. Rosenkranz has posed for photos in his office in front of a mural by the Nazi artist Rudolf Eisenmenger, one of Hitler’s favorite painters. All of Rosenkranz’s predecessors had made sure to cover up the mural.
FPÖ lawmaker Walter Rosenkranz with Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán.
Foto: Tobias Steinmaurer / APA / picture alliance
In February 2025, it became known that officials were investigating Rosenkranz’s office manager. Domestic security officials had found 30 kilograms of ammunition and Nazi memorabilia in a forest house belonging to the man’s family – though he denied any wrongdoing. The house is thought to have served as a retreat for the German terror cell "Saxon Separatists.” Following additional accusations, the man had to vacate his post. Two months later, Rosenkranz declined to censure an FPÖ lawmaker in parliament after he had used the Nazi term "Umvolkung,” an extremely controversial term used by the National Socialists to describe threats to German racial purity.
Bini Guttmann, the Jewish activist, says that Rosenkranz has taken a number of small steps that are contributing to a rawer tone in parliament. He has, Guttmann says, normalized the glorification of the Nazis and undermined his own role as a non-partisan president.
Pact with the FPÖ
Does this mean that German-nationalist fraternity members pull the strings in Austria? "I am not a supporter of conspiracy theories, not even when it comes to Burschenschaften,” says Weidinger, the expert on right-wing extremism. Still, he says, it is notable that the FPÖ repeatedly installs Burschenschaft members in important positions – far out of proportion with their share of the population at large. "The FPÖ still hasn’t managed to establish alternative recruitment paths for qualified personnel.”
It sounds a lot like a pact that both profit from: The Burschenschaften provide the FPÖ with academically qualified personnel. The party provides the Burschenschaften with influence.
Walter Rosenkranz’s tenure as National Council president runs for another four years. But the country’s next presidential election is scheduled to take place in fall 2028. Rosenkranz ran for the position once before, losing to the former Green Party candidate Alexander Van der Bellen, but the 81-year-old will not be allowed to run for re-election in three years. Many observers believe Rosenkranz would have a good chance to win should the FPÖ once again nominate him. And if he does win, that would mean that a Burschenschaft member would occupy the position of Austrian president, the highest office in the country.
With reporting by Veronica Habela and Colette Schmidt