ÖGS

AUSTRIAN SIGN LANGUAGE

The Long History

Austrian Sign Language

From 1779 to 2026

The language that could not be silenced.

The History of the ÖGS: Between Oppression, Community, and Recognition.

If you wanted to tell the story of Austrian Sign Language, you could start in 1880.

But one could also start with 1779.

And really, you’d have to start even earlier, because languages rarely come into being on a specific Tuesday at 2:37 p.m. They emerge where people live together, laugh, argue, learn, flirt, gossip, and try to explain things to one another.

The Beginning of a Long Story

1779

In 1779, Emperor Joseph II founded the first state-run institute for deaf children in Vienna. This created an important gathering place for deaf people. The signs used there marked the beginning of a process through which the Austrian sign language community and its language continued to evolve over the generations.

And here we already encounter a bit of historical irony:

A school should teach children language and, at the same time, help pass on a language that wasn't simply invented by a textbook.

After all, deaf children brought language with them. They brought their experiences, their signs, their stories, and their own ways of describing the world. They met one another, learned from one another, and took the language back home with them.

That's how a language evolves.

Not just from teacher to student.

But from person to person.

When someone suddenly decided that hands should keep quiet

1880

Then came the year 1880.

In Milan, representatives of the international deaf education community gathered for what is known as the Milan Congress. There, the speech-based method prevailed; sign language was pushed out of classrooms in many places and, in some cases, banned. The consequences were enormous and shaped deaf education for decades.

One could say:

The hands had a story to tell.

The "black pedagogy" said, "No, please don't."

And so began a long period during which deaf children were expected to function primarily through spoken language, while their natural language was forced out of the classroom.

But this is one of the most remarkable features of the ÖGS:

She didn't disappear.

She went to the place where languages have always survived when institutions have rejected them:

into the community.

In clubs.

In families.

In friendships.

In schoolyards.

And in those conversations that no one takes notes on.

As early as 1865, organized associations for the deaf had been established in Austria. They became important centers of community life and helped preserve and pass on the language and culture.

The school bans the language—but people keep it anyway

That is perhaps one of the most important points in the history of the ÖGS.

A language isn't alive just because it's in a textbook.

It exists because people use it.

ÖGS has been passed down through generations in schools, clubs, and deaf families. It has developed regional variations and dialects. The way it is spoken in Vienna does not necessarily sound exactly the same as in Graz, Tyrol, or Vorarlberg.

And why should it be any different?

After all, someone from Vienna doesn't necessarily speak the same way as someone from Tyrol … even if both claim they're speaking Standard German.

Therefore, ÖGS is not a single, uniform set of signs that is identical everywhere. It is a natural language with regional variations and its own grammar.

A Language Caught Between Prohibition and Perseverance

20th century

For deaf people in Austria, the 20th century was not a pleasant chapter in the history of language.

Oralism shaped education for a long time. Sign language was discouraged—and in some cases prohibited—in the classroom, and deaf children were forced to adapt to an educational system that did not regard their visual language as an equal form of communication.

And yet, the signing continued.

After all, it is surprisingly difficult to ban a language from people.

You can tell children not to use their hands.

You can tell them to speak.

You can even convince them that their language is worth less.

But as soon as two deaf children meet and want to understand each other, something very human happens:

They'll find a way.

And then science came along

Over time, the scientific perspective also began to change.

Sign languages have increasingly been studied for what they truly are: fully-fledged natural languages —with their own grammar, structure, and history.

Research on Austrian Sign Language (ÖGS) also continued to develop in Austria. In 1990, a center for sign language research was established at the University of Klagenfurt.

This is an important moment.

Because suddenly, the question was no longer just:

"How can we get deaf people to use our language?"

Rather:

"What exactly is this language they've been using for so long?"

Just a quick question.

With quite serious consequences.

It's finally enshrined in law

2005

On September 1, 2005, something happened that was long overdue:

Austrian Sign Language was recognized as a language in its own right in Article 8, paragraph 3, of the Federal Constitutional Law.

A single sentence.

But sometimes a language community doesn't need a novel.

Sometimes a single sentence in the law is enough:

"Austrian Sign Language is recognized as a language in its own right."

So ÖGS wasn't exactly a new concept.

She was not born on September 1, 2005.

She was already there.

For generations.

Rather, that recognition marked the moment when the government finally began to acknowledge what the Deaf community had known for a long time.

ÖGS Becomes a Cultural Heritage Site

2013

In 2013, Austrian Sign Language was inscribed on the Austrian List of UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage. UNESCO describes Austrian Sign Language as the social and cultural foundation of the Austrian sign language community and emphasizes its importance for identity and cultural transmission.

And that's actually a beautiful description.

Because ÖGS is not just a tool.

It is not simply another way of expressing German.

It is a language.

And with it come stories, humor, poetry, theater, identity, memories, and a unique perspective on the world.

So what now?

2026 to the present

Today we find ourselves at an interesting juncture.

ÖGS is legally recognized. It is the subject of scientific research. There are curricula, course offerings, and increasing public visibility. Research on ÖGS is continually expanding; a recent bibliography from the University of Vienna documents the state of ÖGS research through 2026.

And right now, something is happening that would have been almost unimaginable just a few decades ago:

ÖGS is becoming increasingly common in public spaces.

On screens.

On social media.

In schools.

At universities.

On stage.

Into politics.

And since the 2026–27 school year, ÖGS has been included in the curriculum for the upper division of the AHS as a second modern foreign language; starting in 2029, it will also be possible to take the Matura exam in this subject.

That is a remarkable change.

After all, a language that was once pushed out of classrooms is now part of the curriculum itself.

And this is exactly where things get complicated.

After all, just because a language is recognized doesn’t mean that everything will suddenly fall into place. The first steps have been taken—but on a path that has been inaccessible for decades, you can’t just stand up and say, “All right, now everyone please follow the same curriculum.”

We must therefore ask ourselves an uncomfortable question: What skills do we expect from deaf people today—and what opportunities have they actually had to acquire these skills?

For decades, the education system was heavily geared toward hearing-centered structures. When instruction is not conducted in a language accessible to deaf children, it does not simply result in “gaps.” It can lead to educational trajectories in which people, despite their considerable abilities, did not have the opportunity to develop the linguistic and subject-specific skills that are later suddenly taken for granted.

And then something almost absurd happens: We demand the skills that the system itself failed to reliably impart in the first place.

As a result, some deaf adults still experience significant difficulties with written language and reading comprehension—even to the point of functional illiteracy. This is not the same as a lack of intelligence, talent, or willpower. It is often the result of an educational path that for too long failed to consistently take linguistic accessibility into account.

The key question, therefore, is not just:

"What can deaf people do?"

But also:

“What kind of education might they have received if access to the language had been a given from the very beginning?”

After all, recognition does begin with the law.

However, educational equity begins when a child actually gains access to education.

A language is not a museum

Perhaps this is the most important insight from nearly 250 years of ÖGS history:

ÖGS is not a historical curiosity.

It is not a collection of hand signals.

And it's not a substitute for spoken language either.

It is a language in its own right that evolves, changes, and lives on.

Its history did not begin in 2005 with its legal recognition.

It does not begin in 1880 with the Milan Congress.

And it certainly won't end in 2026.

Because languages have one particularly annoying characteristic:

They're not particularly easy to stop.

You can ban them.

It's easy to underestimate them.

You can ignore them for decades.

But as long as people use them, retell them, adapt them, and pass them on to the next generation, they will live on.

The ÖGS did that.

For generations.

With your hands.

With your face.

With the body.

With your eyes.

And above all: together.