Fred Sinowatz isn't your typical political figure that stirs the pot, but every now and then, even seemingly unremarkable ones can leave a trail of intrigue. Born in the small Austrian town of Neufeld an der Leitha in 1929, Sinowatz climbed the political ladder during the country's post-war socialist era—a time awash with change, idealism, and more than a little naivety. Who was this man? What did he do? When did he serve? Where did he impact? Why should we care? Sinowatz served as Austria's Chancellor from 1983 to 1986, presiding over a country fixated on neutralism and socialism. At a time when much of Europe was embroiled in Cold War tensions, Sinowatz's Austria was a glorified experiment in neutrality and welfare state indulgence.
Sinowatz's rise to power was anything but riveting unless you're a fan of cookie-cutter career trajectories. Before becoming Chancellor, he held various ministerial roles, eventually becoming Vice-Chancellor under Bruno Kreisky. Sinowatz was a man devoted to the SPÖ (Social Democratic Party of Austria) like a sailor to his ship. Whether it was cutting ribbons at state functions or championing education reform—usually just throwing taxpayer money at the latest fad—his career was a series of bureaucratic duties cloaked in a veneer of importance.
The real fireworks of Sinowatz's tenure came in the form of a scandal—because what's a political career without one? He was Chancellor at the height of the National Council's outrage over the acquisition of the Draken jet fighters. The entire affair was embroiled in accusations of overpriced deals and murky negotiations, making the rest of Europe look at Austria like an underprepared child on a first day of school.
The man was at the center of more than just defense scandals though. Sinowatz is known for his whimsical way of handling sensitive issues. His infamous quote about Jesus and the Virgin Mary was a testament to his incredible ability to offend. When asked about the controversy surrounding Waldheim's presidency, he shot back with sarcasm—"I find it interesting that Jesus Christ was a virgin birth, but Waldheim somehow fathered the annuities scandal." This kind of wit and poor comic timing was perhaps one reason his tenure didn't last longer.
Ah, yes, the Waldheim Affair! The election of Kurt Waldheim as President of Austria during Sinowatz's chancellorship was another telling time in Austrian politics. Waldheim faced international scrutiny for his alleged involvement in Nazi war crimes, but Sinowatz played the role of the 'totally-not-surprised-by-this-news' Chancellor. The way he stumbled and distracted during this time was almost comical, if it weren't so tragic.
One couldn't write about Sinowatz without acknowledging the so-called resignation speech that became instantly infamous. During this resignation speech in 1986, he delivered the now classic line: "I announce my resignation, and this is irreversible, almost." That 'almost' shows the telltale mark of a politician trained in the art of riding two horses at once—a skill that works fine if you avoid scandal-induced dismounts.
For all the political bungling, who would have imagined that Sinowatz still garners a sense of nostalgia? It is these small, caricatured figures in politics that keep the field ever so entertaining. At a glance, Sinowatz's politics might seem benign, a tale of small-town virtue carried to the state level. But as the pages of history often reveal, much more was invariably at play—albeit wrapped in a tender smile and glinting spectacles.
For a conservative, Sinowatz provides a case study in the melancholic ambition of heavy-handed social program governance. His tale is an absurdist anecdote in a land caught between modernity and tradition—a caricature begging to be revived on some dimly lit cabaret stage. Maybe there's a lesson there; or maybe it's just that people like Sinowatz shouldn't expect to be missed at all when they're gone.