Although much has been written about the history of the German Communist Party, little is known about who actually belonged to it or supported it. Yet knowledge of the social composition of German Communism is an important, in many ways crucial, factor in assessing the role of the KPD in the development of the German workers' movement during the Weimar Republic. Aside from a census of party members conducted by the national leadership in 1927, and voting returns in elections, there are no national sources on which to base an analysis of the social structure of the Communist movement in Germany. Local and regional sources, though sporadically preserved and until now little exploited, offer an alternative way to determine the social bases of German Communism. This article contributes to the history of the KPD by attempting to analyze one source about support for German Communism in a major industrial city. In October 1923 the KPD staged an insurrection in Hamburg, resulting in the arrest and conviction of over 800 persons. A social analysis of these known insurrectionaries can indicate some of the sources of support for the KPD and suggest some of the ways in which the KPD fit into the history of the German working class and workers' movement.

This essay explores the Amistad rebellion of 1839, in which fifty-three Africans seized a slave schooner, sailed it to Long Island, New York, made an alliance with American abolitionists, and won their freedom in a protracted legal battle. Asking how and why the rebels succeeded, it emphasizes the African background and experience, as well as the “fictive kinship” that grew out of many incarcerations, as sources of solidarity that made the uprising possible. The essay concludes by discussing the process of mutiny, suggesting a six-phase model for understanding the dynamics of shipboard revolt, and showing how such events can have powerful historical consequences.

Am Ende des Ancien Régime lebte die Mehrzahl der deutschen Familien an der Grenze des Existenzminimums. Verstärkt durch den wechselhaften Witterungsverlauf schwankte die Lebenshaltung dieser Zugehörigen zu den ländlichen und nichtbürgerlichen Unterschichten wegen des ungleichmäßigen Angebots an Lebensmitteln zwischen Unterversorgung mit den lebensnotwendigen Bedürfnissen bei Minderernten (und relativ hohem Preisniveau) und damit abwechselnden Zeiten ausreichender Bedarfsdeckung in wohlfeilen Jahren. In den beiden ersten Jahrzehnten und in der Mitte des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts stieg der Anteil dieser urn die physische Existenz ihrer Familie ringenden Bevölkerungsgruppen erheblich an. Engels und Marx haben dieses Phänomen der Massenarmut (oder das Elend des Proletariats) auf die Industrialisierung und den übermächtigen Einfluß des Kapitals, das zunehmend in alle Lebensbereiche eindrang, zurückgeführt. Durch Abzug von Kapital aus dem Produktionsprozeß und Akkumulierung zu großen Vermögen würden den in der großbetrieblichen Produktion beschäftigten Arbeitern nur noch Löhne ausgezahlt, die lediglich für die Bestreitung der physischen Existenz ausreichen wiirden. Mit zunehmender Industrialisierung und Konzentration der Produktion in Fabriken hätte schließlich eine ständig wachsende Zahl von kleingewerblichen Produzenten ihren Besitz verloren und sei in die Klasse des Proletariats (Expropriation) abgesunken. Knapp hat für Deutschland noch eine Sonderentwicklung aufgezeigt, indem er als wesentliche Ursache für die Entstehung eines freien Arbeiterstandes die Bauernbefreiung herausstellte.

Not all early modern sugar plantations were in the Atlantic World. Indeed, far away from it, in the rural space surrounding the Dutch headquarters in Asia (the Ommelanden of Batavia (Jakarta)), over a hundred of them were thriving by the end of the seventeenth century. Together, they constituted a unique plantation society that followed Dutch land law, was operated by Javanese rural labour, and was managed by Chinese sugar entrepreneurs. Through archival work on a certain “perfect map” that belonged to a Chinese widow, this article explores how that plantation society took shape on the ground.

One of the best-known incidents in the history of the Bee-Hive is the reorganisation of 1870, which enabled the Junta to put in their own nominee as editor. What has received far less attention is the way in which the process began in 1868. The first intimation of this to the Bee-Hive's readers was the report of the half-yearly shareholders' meeting held on 29 May. After Potter had again stressed the effects of “the great depression in all trades”, Troup, on behalf of the Directors, “laid a plan before the meeting, by which he thought that the paper could be more advantageously carried on in the interests of the shareholders”. No details of this plan are given in the report; but from the ensuing discussion it is clear that it involved far-reaching changes, since Connolly, Whetstone, and others objected that “any alteration in the constitution of the paper” required the sanction of a specially-convened meeting. Having secured this respite, the shareholders then adopted a resolution, moved by Hartwell, which was obviously intended to provide an alternative solution to their problems – that arrangements should immediately be made for canvassing societies and holding district meetings to advocate the taking up of shares. But this was really a forlorn hope. At the special meeting, on 17 June, the discussion mainly centred round a proposal from the floor that a small committee should be elected to protect the shareholders' interests in the “impending negotiations”. Eventually this was withdrawn, and the Directors were empowered to make “such alterations in the management and arrangements of the paper as would probably effect the object they all desired – increased circulation and influence, and the payment of a dividend on the shares”.

Unlängst mir zugänglich gemachtes und von mir neuaufgefundenes Archivmaterial wirft zusätzliches Licht auf die Geschichte des Genfer Tageblattes „L'Espérance”.

“Jewish protection rights” (Judenschutzrechte) — the legal category according to which Jews were tolerated in a few territories of the old German Empire during the early modern period — made it difficult for Jewish subjects to establish a secure existence. There were, above all, two reasons for this. First, the personalized nature of protection rights enabled the respective authorities to develop selective settlement policies oriented consistently towards the fiscal interests of the state. The direct results of this were increased tributary payments and the withdrawal of one's “protection document” (Schutzbrief) if taxes were not paid. Second, legislators for the territories developed a multiplicity of restrictive decrees concerning the gainful employment of Jews. Consequently, there were only a few economic niches n i which “privileged Jews” (Scbutzjuden) were permitted to earn a living. In the countryside — which is where such settlements were mainly situated in the early modern period — Jews were thus dependent upon peddling foods, textiles and cattle as well as upon lending money. The specific methods of business which developed from this were reflected in the anti-Jewish legend of the deceptive travelling salesman who, by awakening ever new consumer needs, brought his Christian customers into increasing debt. If one confronts this legend with reality, one finds two characteristic methods of business which arose out of necessity: the cultivation of a varied palette of goods offered, and the development of a differentiated system of payment by instalments. At the same time, these business methods accorded with the model of an “economy of makeshift”. In the sense of such “makeshift trade”, Jewish peddlers were prepared to travel for days in order to make even the most insignificant profits.

Paris and its Commune have so completely dominated historians' accounts of what transpired in France during the spring of 1871 that until the last decade scant attention was paid to the behavior of the provinces. Next to Paris, it was Lyon that produced probably the most significant movement – the Commune of March 22nd-25th and its sequel, the insurrection in the quarter of La Guillotière on April 30th. In each of these incidents legal proceedings and investigations were begun by the regular judicial authorities, but the Army took over the trial proceedings by virtue of a decree of August 8, 1870, which had placed the Department of the Rhône in a state of siege. The affairs were given separate trials before a conseil de guerre in 1871. Dossiers were compiled on all those individuals killed or ordered arrested in connection with the revolutionary events of March and April and were deposited in the Archives Départementales du Rhône, Series R, under the incident's name and date. There were enough judicial investigations undertaken, and fortunately done in such a thorough manner, that the author found in them the basis for a most fascinating crowd study.

This article considers how enslaved salvage divers cooperated and conspired with slaveholders and white employers to salvage shipwrecks and often smuggle recovered goods into homeports, permitting them to exchange their expertise for semi-independent lives of privileged exploitation. Knowing harsh treatment could preclude diving, white salvagers cultivated reciprocal relationships with divers, promoting arduousness by avoiding coercive discipline while nurturing a sense of mutual obligation arising from collective responsibilities and material rewards. Enslaved salvagers were, in several important ways, treated like free, wage-earning men. They were well fed, receiving daily allowances of fresh meat. Most resided in seaports, were hired out, and received equal shares of recovered goods, allowing many to purchase their freedom and that of family members. Divers produced spectacular amounts of wealth for their mother countries, owners, and colonial governments, especially in the maritime colonies of Bermuda, the Bahamas, and Cayman Islands. Their expertise was not confined to maritime colonies. Even as plantation slavery was taking root during the mid-seventeenth century, salvage divers provided an important source of income for planter-merchants.

In the context of the Global Collaboratory on the History of Labour Relations, in this article, we relate the analysis of precarious work in Portugal to the state, in particular, as a direct participant functioning as both employer and mediator. In the second part, we present a short overview of the evolution of casualization in the context of employment and unemployment in contemporary Portugal (1974–2014). In the third section, we discuss state policies on labour relations, particularly in the context of the welfare state. Finally, we compare this present analysis with Swedish research done from the perspective of the state as a direct participant and mediator over the past four decades.

This paper examines labour disputes in London between 1790 and 1870, based on a systematic coverage of working-class newspapers. Disputes were classified by type, cause and trade. Evidence exists for 294 disputes, the large majority of which were strikes. The incidence of disputes roughly paralleled cyclical and seasonal fluctuations in the economy. Wage claims were the main cause for conflict, although interpretation of such disputes needs to be related to price movements. The most serious disputes were associated with significant changes in control over employment and the labour process. Skilled and unskilled workers were involved in disputes, both taking advantage of specific circumstances to exert power at the workplace. The extent to which London was prone to disputes is discussed and tentative comparisons drawn with other regions in Britain.

This article examines legal relations between estate owners and their servants and workers on Danish estates in the nineteenth century. From the end of the eighteenth century onwards, the traditional privileged role of Danish estate owners was changing, and their special legal status as “heads of household” over the entire population on their estates was slowly being undermined. The article investigates the relationship between estate owners and their servants and workers in legislation and court cases during these times of change. It examines the Danish servant acts from 1791 and 1854 and identifies the asymmetric order of subordination and superiority in this legislation. The core of the relationship was still a “contractual submission” that, to some extent, was private and unregulated by law, and estate owners were entitled to impose sanctions and physical punishment on their servants and workers according to their own judgement. When the Servant Law of 1854 abolished estate owners’ right to punish adult servants physically, it was a significant break from the old legal order. However, a central element in the legislation, before and after 1854, was that servants’ and workers’ disobedience towards estate owners was illegal. By analysing court cases, the article examines the borderlands of the legal definition of disobedience. The elasticity in the legal system was substantial – and frequently favoured the owners. In the legal system, the notion of disobedience served to protect the last remnants of the traditional legal order of submission and superiority.

In 1883 the Spanish public became acquainted with a series of crimes committed in the provinces of Cádiz and Sevilla by the Mano Negra. Rooted in the agrarian South, this organization was accused of attempting to bring down the Spanish government and to sweep away the landed aristocracy of Andalusia, even by resorting to the most extreme and violent means.

Histories of feminism in the past three decades have focused on the debate between equal rights and separate spheres, but have been less attentive to the many strands of socialist feminisms, which sought to build bridges between the women's movement and other social movements for freedom, equality and justice. Dorothy Sue Cobble addresses this gap, exploring the lives and works of social democratic women activists in relation to the equal rights versus separate rights debate. Reflecting the “global turn”, Cobble explores many transnational connections. Picking up on these two themes – socialist feminism and global networks – I focus on the South Asian case.

In 1802, several “country ships” arrived in London from Bengal, their lascar crews having suffered severe casualties due to fatigue, exposure, and starvation. Aboard the Union, the officers’ treatment of the crew was so bad that the lascars and a sympathetic English sailor alerted the East India Company. Their testimony, recorded by the Company's Committee of Shipping, provides new insights into lascar living and working conditions – in particular the problem of undermanning ships – reminding us how the management–labour dynamic aboard a ship at sea always favoured owners and officers rather than workers.

Maarten Prak's Citizens without Nations merits praise for what he has added to our understanding of early modern and modern European history. He presents persuasive arguments and evidence for how variations among early modern European cities and their citizens together with subsequent variations among relations between cities and state shaped the modern relations between European national states and their citizens. Prak also extends the concept of citizenship to China and the Ottoman Empire where neither the ideological, nor the institutional features of European citizenship existed by discussing Chinese and Ottoman urban social, economic, and political practices that in early modern Europe relate to citizenship. Such a move makes invisible the early modern ideological and institutional foundations of the Chinese and Ottoman practices he recounts. It additionally creates the problem of determining how, if at all, what he calls Chinese and Ottoman citizenship mattered to nineteenth-century Chinese and Ottoman subjects as they encountered for the first time Western notions of citizenship. In order to write global history, we need more studies of Chinese, Ottoman, and other histories, which explain the changing political architecture of relations between people and those who ruled them to complement what Maarten Prak's fine study of citizens without nations gives us for European history.

Wenige Wochen nach dem plötzlichen Ableben seines Direktors, Professor A. J. C. Rüter, hat das Internationale Institut für Sozial-geschichte am 1. Oktober 1965 mit dem Tode Werner Blumenbergs, des Leiters der Deutschland-Abteilung, einen zweiten schweren Verlust erlitten.