Captain Swing, authored by Eric Hobsbawm and George Rudé and published in 1969, was one of the key texts in the development of the new British social history of the 1960s and 1970s. On its fortieth anniversary, this introduction to the special theme looks back at the significance and impact that Captain Swing had, and continues to have, on the study of popular protest. The author locates the approach taken by its writers within the political and historiographical context of its time and examines how successive historians – including the two authors following this retrospect – have built upon and challenged the arguments which the book advanced.

In most cases, and particularly in the cases of Greece and Turkey, political transformation from multinational empire to nation state has been experienced to a great extent in urban centres. In Ankara, Bursa, and Salonica, the cities selected for this article, the consequences of state-making were drastic for all their inhabitants; Ankara and Bursa had strong Greek communities, while in the 1840s Salonica was the Jewish metropolis of the eastern Mediterranean, with a lively Muslim community. However, by the 1940s, Ankara and Bursa had lost almost all their non-Muslim inhabitants and Salonica had lost almost all its Muslims. This article analyses the occupational structures of those three cities in the mid-nineteenth century and the first half of the twentieth, tracing the role of the state as an employer and the effects of radical political change on the city-level historical dynamics of labour relations.

The International Confederation of Free Trade Unions. [By] Anthony Carew, Michel Dreyfus, Geert Van Goethem [and] Rebecca Gumbrell-McCormick. Marcel van der Linden (Ed.) [International and Comparative Social History, vol. 3.] Peter Lang, Bern [etc.] 2000. 624 pp. S.fr. 117.00; DM 147.00; S 975.00.

The living standards of the working classes during industrialization continue to be the subject of debate in European historiography. However, other factors closely related to the institutional setting, such as the role played by social economy and the institutions for collective action, are seldom considered. This study focuses on these factors, and attempts to quantify the social impact of consumer cooperatives. We argue that these institutions substantially improved the lot of the working classes from the mid-nineteenth century onwards, helping them to increase their incomes, and access food and services, such as education and social services, which the state did not provide in sufficient measure. To demonstrate this point, we analyse thirty-five consumer cooperatives in Barcelona, an industrial centre in which these organizations were more popular than anywhere else in Spain. Our main conclusion is that consumer cooperatives increased the well-being of their members, helping them to meet their substantial calorific needs, although their diets were unbalanced and low-cost; members improved their income between five and ten per cent, by simply shopping at the institution, and gained access to basic welfare services.

Charles Hall's importance has been recognized by a number of scholars. He has been described by C. R. Fay as “the first of the early socialists”, and by Mark Blaug as “the first socialist critic of the industrial revolution”. According to Max Beer he provided “the first interpretation of the voice of rising Labour”, and Anton Menger regarded him as “the first socialist who saw in rent and interest unjust appropriations of the return of labour, and who explicitly claimed for the worker the undiminished product of his industry”.2 Menger, in his book The Right to the Whole Produce of Labour (first published in German in 1886), devoted three or four pages to Hall and drew attention to his early formulation of the theory of surplus value. Since then there have been several discussions of Hall's work, but almost without exception they have been quite brief: perhaps the most notable are those provided by H. S. Foxwell in his introduction to the English translation of Menger, and by Beer in his History of British Socialism H. L. Beales, who also wrote a few pages about him in his book The Early English Socialists, lamented some twenty years ago that Hall (in common with several other pioneers of socialism and democracy in Britain) had not yet found a biographer. In fact it seems unlikely, owing to the paucity of material, that a biography will ever be possible. But it is nonetheless surprising that Hall has received so little individual attention; and the author of a recent summary of his ideas (again in the context of a general history of socialism) could describe him as “ce précurseur quelque peu oublie”. It appears that an essay may usefully be written drawing together what is known about him and attempting a fuller examination of his writings than has been provided hitherto.

British coal miners immigrated to the United States in increasing numbers during the Civil War decade. Their movement from the collieries gathered momentum in the early war years and reached its peak in 1869. In 1862, almost all of the immigrants entering the United States who listed their occupation as “miner” were from Britain. As shown in the table, such men accounted for more than 73% of all immigrant miners in each of the following years of the decade for which data are available, with the exception of 1864. In 1870, the 57,214 British immigrant miners listed in the United States Census represented more than 60% of all foreign-born miners (94,719) in the country. The movement from Britain had already slowed when news of the American economic depression that began in 1873 reached the collieries in Britain, where an extraordinary demand for iron in the early 1870's had hiked coal miners' wages far above normal levels. However, when employment in the American coalfields was readily available in the 1860's and early 1870's, the risk involved in spending hard-won savings on the journey, which cost approximately £5 and took ten days by steamer, appeared reasonable. In comparison with other wage earners coal miners in Britain were relatively well-paid. They could, therefore, accumulate the cost of the trans-Atlantic passage during “good-times” at home.

The years between the late 1940s and late 1950s constituted a critical period in the historical formation of the working class in Turkey. During that period, Turkey experienced a number of structural transformations. It also saw the elaboration of a new discourse on the working class by labor representatives, organizations, and by workers themselves. That discourse provided the workers and their organizations with the channels necessary to articulate their demands when other forms of expression were considered ineffective and dangerous. Using the language of equality, justice, and human rights, workers appealed for improvement in their status both at the workplace and within society at large. This new political culture and language was built on the critical assessment of the corporatist construction of labor relations and the rejection of the idea that employers and workers were members of the same (national) family. Based on worker and union newspapers, the primary objective of this essay is to discuss the basic components and characteristic features of this new discourse and its place in working-class politics in early republican Turkey.

Sport, and football in particular, is described in socio-political discourse as an effective way to integrate immigrants. This thesis will be tested by means of a case study examining Polish migration to the mining areas of the Ruhr from the 1870s. It will be shown that, up until World War I, the sport participated in by Polish miners served, in contrast, as a means of nationalization, ethnicizing, and as an aid to furthering Polish ethnic identity. Only during the Weimar Republic were football clubs in the Ruhr actually used as a vehicle for integration and assimilation for males among the Polish minority. After World War II, memories of these footballers from among the Polish minority were either repressed or reduced to folklore. Based on this historical case study, sport appears in principle to be ambivalent between its ability to form “we” groups and the building of bridges between nationalities.

In the early twentieth century, like many of their European counterparts, labour unions in the Netherlands established mutual unemployment insurance funds for their members. Various funds made agreements with labour unions in a number of European countries to recognize each other's insurance schemes, enabling union members to work in the Netherlands without losing their entitlement to benefits accumulated in their home countries, and vice versa. Whereas up until the 1930s some of the alliances between Dutch and foreign funds had flourished, in the 1930s the number of non-Dutch workers in the Netherlands making use of such agreements decreased drastically. This article analyses those transnational alliances and explores various causes for their demise, concluding that in the 1930s formal regulation of foreign labour by the Dutch government substantially reduced the number of potential foreign members of insurance funds while government interference in unemployment insurance abroad, and especially in Germany, made the transnational agreements effectively void.

When war came to Europe in August 1914, several thousand Russians were caught by surprise in Switzerland, and their number increased with the influx of refugees from Austria and Germany. Cut off from their homeland and temporarily unable to exchange their money, they faced great hardship. Self-help societies sprang up everywhere; some groups experimented with organizing cheap or free kitchens. Swiss newspapers continually carried notices of benefit concerts or literary evenings. The Russian mission in Bern offered assistance, and the degree of cooperation which briefly sprang up between Russian émigré organizations and the Russian legation was subsequently to prove an embarrassment for both sides.

The theory of a secret revolutionary tradition, closely woven into the fabric of early working-class activity and surfacing at particular moments of crisis, continues to fascinate historians. In their attempts to assess its validity much recent effort has been directed at the ten years following the introduction of the infamous Two Acts in December 1795. There has been intensive study of the secret societies in the metropolis and their counterparts in the West Riding of Yorkshire and of their relationship to the Irish rebels. Yet whilst it si now generally recognised that radicalism did not simply evaporate in the oppressive aftermath of the “gagging acts”, its nature and significance continue to provoke disagreement. This paper is a contribution to this debate and an attempt to help stitch together a convincing account of plebeian protest in a region which, despite its prominent position in the radical history of this period, has received little systematic attention.

In the last two decades, scholars have significandy expanded, through die use of probate inventories, our purview of early-modern European households. Their work has tended to focus on the social and cultural implications of the material culture found in these inventories.1 Seldom, however, have they used these sources to study the family economy found in many early-modern European households, and since artisanal small-scale production remained the predominant mode of urban economic activity, this has produced a conspicuous gap in our knowledge.1 This essay, which contains a comprehensive investigation of probate inventories from artisanal households during the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, is a modest attempt to fill some of that gap by providing a more nuanced understanding of the social, cultural, and economic survival strategies employed by the poorer households as they struggled to avoid the abject indigence of the truly destitute.

To the French Left in May 1936, the electoral triumph of the Front Populaire – a coalition of the Communist, Socialist, and Radical Parties – signified nothing if not the victory of legal republicanism over the criminal machinations of domestic fascism. Consequently, embarrassment – not to mention confusion – was widespread, when the proletariat chose to greet this victory with a wave of sit-down strikes that was at once massive, spontaneous, joyful, and utterly illegal. It is true that the roots of the strikers' grievances went much further back than the political campaign of recent months. Five years of lowered wages, poorer working conditions, and the indifference of many employers to the lot of their men were behind the workers' monumental audacity. Nevertheless, the coincidence of the strikes with Leon Blum's accession to office was far from accidental.

Das Sozialistengesetz zerstörte, zehn Jahre nach ihrer Entstehung, die Gewerkschaftsbewegung, die 1868 so eifrig begonnen hatte. Die Entwicklung, die damit verschleppt und aufgeschoben war, kam nach Aufhebung des Sozialistengesetzes zum Austrag. Der durch sie her-aufbeschworene Konflikt von Gewerkschaft und Partei 1906 ist als ein Bestandteil der Industrialisierung Deutschlands aufzufassen. Die Überordnung der Partei über die Gewerkschaften gehörte der Zeit an, in der Deutschland verglichen mit England ein industriell unter-entwickeltes Land war. Die Umkehrung des Verhältnisses und die Angleichung an das Modell der gleichzeitig in England entstehenden Labour Party trat mit dem endgültigen Durchbruch zum Industriestaat ein.

Examining intra-colonial punitive relocations during the first decade of US occupation in the Philippines, this article shows how colonial police and prison officials used incarceration and transportation in tandem to suppress incipient populist revolutionary movements. They exploited historic regional and religious tensions in their effort to produce new modes of racialized and gendered prison and labor management. Finally, while colonial officials sought to brand certain imprisoned subjects as criminal outlaws, rather than political prisoners, many of these anticolonial fighters actually sharpened their ideas about freedom through their experience of being criminalized, incarcerated, and forcibly relocated.

In March 1964 the entire African labour force at Wankie Colliery, “Wangi Kolia”, in Southern Rhodesia went on strike. Situated about eighty miles south-east of the Victoria Falls on the Zambezi River, central Africa’s only large coalmine played a pivotal role in the region’s political economy. Described by Drum, the famous South African magazine, as a “bitter underpaid place”, the colliery’s black labour force was largely drawn from outside colonial Zimbabwe. While some workers came from Angola, Tanganyika (Tanzania), and Nyasaland (Malawi), the great majority were from Northern Rhodesia (Zambia). Less than one-quarter came from Southern Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) itself. Although poor-quality food rations in lieu of wages played an important role in precipitating female-led industrial action, it also occurred against a backdrop of intense struggle against exploitation over an extended period of time. As significant was the fact that it happened within a context of regional instability and sweeping political changes, with the independence of Zambia already impending. This late colonial conjuncture sheds light on the region’s entangled dynamics of gender, race, and class.

In the autumn of 1883 a small, anonymous penny pamphlet bearing the provocative title The Bitter Cry of Outcast London appeared in the London bookstores. Its impact was so immediate and cataclysmic that it must be considered one of the great pieces of Victorian reform literature. According to contemporary opinion the pamphlet provoked an “immense interest” in and “drew attention universally to the subject” of the dwellings of the working classes, and by the winter of 1883 it was unanimously agreed that urban slum conditions had “assumed the dimensions of a primary question” and had become “the subject of the day”. Alfred Spender, the editor of the Westminster Gazette, stated in 1913 that it was almost impossible to recapture “the sensation which such a pamphlet as ‘The Bitter Cry of Outcast London’ made when it was first produced”. Suddenly, almost overnight, it seemed, England awoke to the grim facts of the slums. “The revelations concerning ‘Outcast London’”, commented Reynolds Newspaper, “cause a tremendous sensation and thrill of horror through the land…” In January 1884 the Pall Mall Gazette wrote that The Bitter Cry had been echoing from one end of England to the other, and commented, ”We shall have to go back a long time to discover an agitation on any social question in England which has produced so prompt, so wide-spread, and, as we believe, so enduring an effect.” Two years after its publication it was reported that The Bitter Cry “rang through the length and breadth of the land. It touched the hearts of tens of thousands, and awoke deep feelings of indignation, pain, and sympathy in every direction.”

With the release of the Cabinet Papers for the Lloyd George post-war coahtion government and the opening of the Lloyd George papers in the Beaverbrook Library, the basis for a reinterpretation of the man and his era was made possible. And, indeed, several studies have been published already, most notably, by Americans. The thrust of these new works is to make a more sympathetic character of Lloyd George. Thus, Susan Armitage tells us, had he only not been so busy at peace conferences, Lloyd George would have seen to it that the labor disputes of the post-war years were less disruptive, that the grievances of the trade unions were given due consideration, and that more of the promises of the post-war Reconstruction Committee were realized. In the latter, she follows the lead of Paul Johnson, who was one of the first to plow the murky waters of the Public Records Office's offerings. Pointing a heavily accusing finger at Austen Chamberlain and the Treasury for withholding their blessing on “homes fit for heroes” and other Reconstruction plans, Johnson asks whether “an honest effprt” might have “headed off the militant strike activity” that denied Lloyd George's reconstruction plans the means of success. Thus Lloyd George appears as the victim of circumstances beyond his control – a paragon of pragmatic rationality who is opposed by reactionary Cabinet Ministers and bedevilled by stubborn trade-union leaders who refuse to understand why the promised paradise is not forthcoming.

The 27th of January 1941 was a memorable day in the bizarre history of the Amsterdam International Institute of Social History during the German occupation. Within the scope of activity of his “Office for the Occupied Territories”, NSDAP Reichsleiter Alfred Rosenberg placed the Lieutenant-Commander and Nazi publisher Eberhard Kautter “in charge” of the IISH: “It is your duty to be responsible for the organizational supervision and the deployment of those staff members who qualify for the utilization of the institute. Your mission is to be carried out in agreement with the head of the Netherlands work group of the task force from my office, Oberbereichsleiter Schirmer.” On the same day, the bustling chief of the self-named Einsatzstab (task force), in his function as “Commissioner of the Führer for the Supervision of all Mental and Ideological Training and Education”, approached Robert Ley, the Reichsorganisationsleiter of the NSDAP and head of the Deutsche Arbeitsfront (DAF – German Labor Front). He had a letter sent to him that Eberhard Kautter had drafted already in early January and had obviously withheld until Kautter had been named to the post of IISH administrator. Rosenberg reminded Ley that, in a decree from 29 January 1940, Hitler had entrusted him with all of the preparations for the establishment of a Hohe Schule (Supreme School), that was to be the “central site of National Socialist research, instruction and education”. Thus, he was “setting up a number of branch institutes of the Supreme School”. Among these was an “academy”, the task of which would be to work out the close connection between the “National Socialist Weltanschauung” and the “practical way of structuring life” both for the present and the future. Now he was contacting him, since Ley was also interested in “the relationship between Weltanschauung and social structuring” in his function as Reichsleiter of the DAF and had certainly run up against similar problems within the scope of the extensive “economic-statistical work” of his office.

Studies of the history of leisure have emphasized the separation between work and leisure which developed with the growth of industrial society. Only scant attention has been devoted by historians and sociologists of leisure to the continuing links between work and leisure throughout the nineteenth century, as reflected in recreational activities organized by employers for their employees. Such attention as has been paid to the subject has concentrated on industrial workers, largely ignoring the more systematic and extensive provision of leisure in work organizations belonging to the public sector. In an attempt to explore linkages between work and leisure in this emerging sector, the article focuses on the English police force and will address the following questions. What did the authorities aim to achieve in imposing control through leisure? How did the policemen react to such policies and was this strategy successful? What prompted the social and economic elite to become involved in moulding entertainment for police employees, and what was the impact of police leisure on the community at large?