The Bolsheviks saw their revolution, not as merely Russian, but as the opening act in a great drama of international socialist revolution. This vision, dazzling in itself, mingled with Russian reality, evoked responses in the Australian and New Zealand labour movements. To these countries, the Russian revolution came as part accomplished fact, part world myth, an astonishing sublimation of the enforced and sordid internationalism of suffering on the battlefields of the world war. As such, it was peculiarly disturbing to labour movements which had been, in the main, traditionally cautious and self-sufficient, resistant to both dreams and doctrines. But even Australian and New Zealand labour could not live by bread alone. Was the Russian revolution relevant? This was the basic question, and, at first, it went to the core of local conflicts and indecisions. At first, this question seemed to mean – were revolutionary concepts relevant to Australian and New Zealand conditions, in a situation of imminent world revolution. Was labour to pursue doctrinaire, militant and revolutionary socialism, or welfare-state reformism? This fundamental alternative was, of course, not absent before the Russian revolution, but that revolution posed it with a realism, bluntness and urgency never experienced before. Yet hardly had Australian and New Zealand labour confronted with this imperative, when its terms began to change as circumstances narrowed the challenge represented by Russia. Was the Russian revolution relevant? By 1920 this question had come to mean – would Australian and New Zealand labour accept Russian methods, theories and direction?

In the history and historiography of labour servitude, the ideology of modernity and progress looms large. Thus it was with bitter irony that a British officer described the miserable condition of a labourer in late nineteenth-century colonial India: “Steam, the great civilizer, has not done much for this man, although the railroad runs within a few hundred yards of his door.” The persistence of the miserably poor existence was bad enough, but truly appalling was the fact that the introduction of modern industry had not set the labourer free. The poor labourers, or kamias as they were called locally, had seen modernity whizz past them without carrying them along in its journey to progress and freedom.

This study analyses the shifts in labour relations due to state intervention, first during the conquest of the Ming empire between 1600 and 1644 by its Manchurian contenders, and thereafter until about 1780, as the Manchurian Qing dynasty established itself and drove the Chinese empire to its greatest expansion. The main focus lies on the socio-military formation of the Eight Banners, the institution that, for about 200 years, epitomized the domination of the Chinese empire by a small elite group of about two per cent of the population. These findings will be contextualized in the larger setting of labour relations of the early and mid-Qing, when state intervention occurred in the form of arbitration in labour conflicts, but also, in a much more aggressive manner, in the decimation of the Qing rulers’ Dzungharian rivals. In the framework of Charles Tilly’s paradigm of capital versus coercion, while both are present in the Chinese case, the capital-oriented path seems more distinct.

The 10th April 1848 is one of the most famous days in the history of the nineteenth century. The Chartists of London had screwed themselves up for a decisive trial of strength with the ruling classes. They found themselves outnumbered by the combined resources of the civil and military powers. They shrank back before the prospect of a collision with the vast forces of law and order and property commanded by the Duke of Wellington and Richard Mayne. What was to have been a triumphant demonstration of the overwhelming power and determination of the people, ended in the anything but triumphal progress of a few hired hackney coaches carrying a dubious petition. “The 10th April, 1848 will long be remembered as a great field day of the British Constitution”, announced the Times. “The signal of unconstitutional menace, of violence, of insurrection, of revolution, was yesterday given in our streets, and happily despised by a peaceful, prudent, and loyal metropolis. That is the triumph we claim…. This settles the question. In common fairness it ought to be regarded as a settled question for years to come. The Chartists and Confederates made the challenge, and chose the field and trial of strength. They must stand by their choice. They chose to disturb the metropolis for the chance of something coming of it. They fished for a revolution and have caught a snub. We congratulate them on their booty, which we hope they will divide with their partners in Dublin. It is, perhaps, a fortunate circumstance that so momentous a question as the free action of the British Legislature should be settled thus decisively….”

For close on half a century, the British naval dockyard in Singapore was a prominent employer in the colony. The huge facility attracted migrant workers from the region, and entire settlements and communities were established around the premises of the dockyard as well. This article seeks to place the legacy of Singapore's naval-base workers within the historical contexts of the entanglements between imperialism, diaspora, social movements, and labour resistance. The development of international labour flows, formation, and identity was reflected in the prominence of the migrant Malayalee community and its socio-religious organizations at the naval base. Furthermore, the routine individual defiance and industrial unrest went beyond disputes about wage levels and working conditions. They were enmeshed within the broader undercurrents of Singapore's transitory political culture, and between the interwar decades and the period of decolonization disturbances at the naval dockyard became part of larger political contestations.

The role of professions in the development of advanced industrial societies has long been recognized – for example, by Harold Perkin. However, the focus has been on the higher professions. Other professions have usually been dealt with as imperfect variants, with Etzioni, typically, referring to nurses, schoolteachers, and social workers as “semi-professions”. However, by conceptualizing such professions as social formations in their own right, as ladders of social mobility, and in terms of their permanent social and professional insecurity, it is possible to create a different picture both of their internal dynamics and broader influence. Members of such groups fostered types of social and political activity that became a recognisable feature of developed societies. Moreover, an appreciation of the distinctive ideational and professional contribution of insecure professions can offer a perspective on a number of the major concerns of social historians. The argument is illustrated by reference to the development of such professions mainly in England and Scotland.

“Any political movement against oppression”, wrote Barrington Moore, “has to develop a new diagnosis and remedy for existing forms of suffering, a diagnosis and remedy by which this suffering stands morally condemned”. Moore refers to the process of interpretation and reflection that takes places in all forms of protest and social mobilization. Social actors interpret specific situations as unjust, identify victims and perpetrators, translate local grievances into broader claims, and set out a course of action. Their perception of society and their specific claims and collective demands are shaped by interpretations through which they make sense of the world. They use these interpretations to convince potential supporters, fellow activists, and adversaries of the accuracy of their views and the legitimacy of their claims. In the process they also define collective identities, which demarcate the objectives and lines of contention. In short, participants in social protest and social movements are involved in “meaning work”, that is, “the production of mobilizing and countermobilizing ideas and meanings”.

The present essay links the social, institutional and cultural approaches of guilds and guildsmen with their daily economic practice. Using as the point of departure a case study of the Antwerp and Ghent garment trades during the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries, a preliminary model is presented, stressing the interrelatedness between divergent strategies, behavioural practices and specific market segments. It is argued that the choice of artisans for a certain market segment implied path dependency and, hence, influenced their investment patterns, their labour relations, their attitude towards the guild, and their personal representation in daily life.

The postwar welfare state, as epitomized by Beveridge's Plan, seemed to mark a major departure from social policy's traditional Bismarckian ambition to ameliorate and preserve existing social circumstances. Many have found the reason for this turnabout in the power that parties of the Left achieved in the immediate postwar years, in Britain and especially in Scandinavia where reform was most pronounced. The article questions this political pedigree by examining the origins of postwar reforms, in this case in Sweden, in the ambitions and interests of the bourgeois parties and by analyzing the initial reluctance of the Social Democrats to follow the new reforming initiatives coming from the parties of the middle classes.

This article analyses the religious aspects of Spanish republicanism of the 1830s and 1840s. From the case of Catalonia, the most industrialized region of Spain, it is concluded that radical liberalism elaborated a synthesis of freedom and religion that was presented as an alternative to traditional religiosity. Re-elaborating old myths popular during the War of Independence of 1808–1814, in addition some liberals and republicans presented their political project in millenarianist terms. This millenarianism was due to the radicalism with which they interpreted the confrontation with political opponents, one of whom was the established Church. It follows that the religiosity and millenarianism exhibited by these republicans also involved a strong anti-clericalism. At the same time, in the political and cultural context of Spain, these proposals were not seen by their followers as a negation of divinity but as its truest expression.

Technological convergence in the international sugar economy began in the 1830s and was substantially complete by the outbreak of World War I in 1914. By the end of the nineteenth century, the industrialized sugar factory was a global phenomenon like the steamship and the railway engine (to which key aspects ofits innards were closely related). We will argue that the single most importantfact about nineteenth-century sugar industries was the degree of technological convergence that came to characterize their manufacturing sectors, regardless of the type of labour involved. A revisiting of the literature of the past twenty-five years, both in the New and Old Worlds, suggests that historians have yet fully to come to terms with the global character of this convergence and with the question of why convergence in the factory had no parallel in the field, where there continued to be a striking global divergence between the means and modes by which the industry was supplied with raw material. This problem in the recent historiography of the subject also highlights issues relating to the “proletarianization” of labour and the assumption that industrial capitalist modernity was inextricably associated with the development of “free labour”. More specifically, it draws attention to major flaws in the terms of reference of the now classic debate about the nexus between technological change and the predominant forms of labour in the Caribbean production area. In so doing, it underlines the need for a global rather than simply regional approach to the dynamics of change in the international sugar industry of the late colonial era. The latter part of our article outlines the broad historical parameters of this divergence in the sugar-cane field, and suggests the need for exploring the political economies surrounding the sugar producing areas and their mechanisms of ethnic segmentation of the labour force in particular.

Augustus Hardin Beaumont is known as a secondary figure of English radicalism during the 1830s. He came to England from Jamaica in the spring of 1835 and by the end of January 1838 he was dead. He was briefly associated with the London Working Men's Association in its early stages and then went to the Northeast where he founded the Northern Liberator. Historians of Chartism have noted him in passing and they have recognized his almost frenzied militancy in support of democratic reform. Most agree with Francis Place's judgment that “his eccentricities sometimes bordered upon insanity”, but beyond that they tell us little more about him.

Since the 1990s, labor history has been presented as “in crisis”. This negative evaluation is an overstatement. It has nevertheless prodded historians, often productively, to rethink the basic orientations of working-class history. This survey article explores three recent pathways to a “new” labor history: the turn to transnational and global study; the “new” history of capitalism; and the study of slavery as unfree labor. These new approaches to labor history highlight an old dilemma: how the structured determinations of laboring life are balanced alongside dimensions of human agency in understanding the complex experience of the working-class past. It is argued that we need to consider both structure and agency in the researching and writing of labor history. If an older “new” labor history accented agency, new pathways to labor history too often seem constrained by “mind forg’d manacles” that limit understandings of workers’ past lives by emphasizing structure and determination.

The current stress of the leadership of the Chinese Communist Party on the necessity of “seeking truth from facts” and the accompanying more liberal attitude to research have led to a re-vitalisation, as in other areas, of the study of party history. The portrayal of Mao Zedong in a more fallible light and the ending of the overemphasis on his role in the Chinese Revolution have led to the study, or re-study, of aspects of Chinese communist history in which Mao was not directly, or only marginally, involved, and to evaluations, or re-evaluations, of the contribution of other communist leaders. The contemporary view that the concept of “two-line struggle” has been overstressed in past historiography, particularly during the Cultural Revolution decade, has also helped historians in China to provide a more “objective” account of the role of other key figures. Differences of opinion no longer have to be castigated as outright opposition nor do later “failings” by individuals necessarily lead to a search by historians to expose a “counter-revolutionary” past throughout.

By the late nineteenth century, the hungry increasingly found themselves constructed as objects of compassion. However, there were real limits to the “humanitarian discovery of hunger”. Not every famished body was understood as deserving of sympathy. Compassionate citizens were particularly troubled by the mass distress that often accompanied lengthy strikes. How should they respond to such hunger? A study of newspaper representations of strike-induced hunger reveals that a gendered discourse evolved which repeatedly concentrated attention on the starving “innocents”: the wives and children of male strikers. The discourse was apparently apolitical but, in truth, it was nothing of the sort. It adjudged the “innocents” worthy recipients of food aid, whilst frequently ignoring the hunger of the striking male and denying him support. Labour leaders had to choose their words carefully if they were to get his suffering recognized.

On 25 June 1887, a curious incident was reported in the San Fernando Gazette of Trinidad in the British West Indies. At the end of the month of Ramadan that year, on the great festival day of Eid ul-Fitr, the Indian Muslims of Victoria village and of nearby estates congregated for the mass prayer in the Little Masjid. A fracas began unexpectedly when several Muslims objected to facing east in the direction of Mecca for the prayer. They argued instead that they should face west as they were wont to do in India. Theological debates soon gave way to a free exchange of blows between the votaries of eastward and westward prayer. Peace was restored after a considerable period, but with appeals to the eminent lawyers, Messrs Wharton and Farfan, to mediate in the dispute. Was the dispute simply due to ignorance as to the true direction of Mecca? Or was it a case of “following custom”, the much maligned traits that the Indian Muslims shared with their compatriots?

This international comparison firstly examines labour market organization, casual labour and work mentality in North American seaports and in Hamburg. By contrast to British ports, these ports finally dispensed with casual labour between the world economic crisis and the Second World War, and labour markets there were centralized. Secondly, the industrial militancy of mobile dockworkers without permanent jobs is examined through a consideration of syndicalist organizations (1919–1921), and interpreted as an interplay of experiences with power in the network of labour market, workplace and docklands. The study refers repeatedly to the decisive dividing line between regularly and irregularly employed dockworkers. National differences in trade union representation and dispute behaviour are analysed by reference to dockworkers' direct actions.

This article examines the relationship between Fordism and unfree labour in Nazi Germany. Fordism is understood here as a form of workplace rationalization (especially assembly-line production), but also as a “technology of domination” and an “exploitation innovation”. In contrast to the Weimar Republic, Fordism was established in broad sectors of German industry under Nazi rule in the form of “war Fordism”. In order to examine the connections between the specific historical variants of these two apparently contradictory production regimes – Fordism and forced labour – the article focuses on the “labour deployment” of the most severely terrorized and brutalized group of labourers in Nazi Germany: concentration camp prisoners. Surveying the existing literature, it explores the compatibilities and tensions between Fordism and the deployments of concentration camp prisoners in German industry. In closing, several theses are presented on how Fordism between 1941 and 1944 can be classified within an entire history of Fordism in Germany.

This article looks at how rural inhabitants navigated state power under a regime led by a former socialist party that negotiated its conversion to a market economy while keeping tight control on the whole society. In that regard, it addresses adjustment in a very specific context, by analysing a distinctive chronology, raising the ruling party's ability to negotiate with the international financial institutions, and considering popular reactions from a rural point of view. The regime led by the Ethiopian Peoples’ Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) managed to delay measures of structural adjustment during the 1990s and 2000s while deepening structures of state control it partly inherited from the former military junta. Brutal structural adjustment plans were refused, while international financial institutions were kept away from the Ethiopian government's policy mix, by way of elaborate ideological and institutional arrangements. The EPRDF coined its own version of the “developmental state” and renewed state control of the economy while deepening its articulation to global markets. Under the EPRDF, all sectors of society and especially peasantries were closely monitored and mobilized in the name of development. But although the open expression of dissent remained rare, peasants resorted to many strategies to cope with political control and to some extent divert it. By taking agricultural policies as a case study, the article describes peasant practices and questions differences between resistance, false compliance, and diversion, underlining how blurred such labels can actually be.