Dominated by the ideas of the “communist school”, the early history of the socialist and revolutionary syndicalist movement in South Africa has (until relatively recently) been largely overlooked by labour historians. From this approach emerged the view that the dominant voice of white workers in South Africa was British, and to a lesser extent Australian, and that their blend of class and racial consciousness resulted in the widespread support for the common ideology of white labourism. Indeed, support for this system of industrial and racial segregation was prevalent across the British Empire, was widely supported by the imperial working class, and in South Africa was never seriously challenged or confronted before 1914. Over recent years, however, South African labour historians have made efforts to rethink their national labour history by examining the early labour movement and the ideology of white labourism in a global context. This article adopts a similar approach and argues that the politics of white labourism was not uniformly embraced by the imperial working class, and that in South Africa there was a vocal and active non-racialist movement which sought to confront racism and segregation, dispute the operation of the “colour bar”, and challenge the white protectionist policies of the labour and trade-union movement. In conclusion, it will be argued that the campaign to confront white labourism was disproportionately influenced by radical left Scottish migrants who adhered firmly to the colour-blind principles of international socialism and revolutionary syndicalism.

Seven factors that may have contributed to the national integration of the working classes in Britain, France, Germany, Italy, and Russia 1871–1914 are explored: the national process of capital accumulation, the international prestige of the nation, the coming of interregional connections, compulsory education, suffrage, the role of the army, and the introduction of social insurance systems. The (provisional) results of this exploration show a clustering of integration-promoting factors in Britain, Germany and France, which is to a certain extent lacking in Italy and Russia.

In Western Europe, industrialization brought far-reaching changes in the family-household system by separating the household from the workplace. Factories, especially, took work away from home and eroded the integrity of the household. The spatial separation between the household and the workplace became the foundation for a conceptual separation between the community and the market. Families were separated from trades, consumption from production, women's activities from men's. These separations, often expressed in the generalized formula of a “private-public” divide, have underscored a thoroughgoing gender division of labour far beyond the original divisions supposed to be rooted in biological reproduction. In industrialized Europe, the working-class household's needs could not be met from the combined economic activities of its members: men, women and children. Rather, the daily bread was to be “won” by individual wage earners and clearly the breadwinners were to be men. In contrast, the home became the site of women's reproductive activities devoid of assignable exchange value. Wives' and daughters' unpaid work was increasingly underwritten by family ideology and was eventually to be covered by the “family wage” paid to husbands and fathers.

After World War II, French and British administrations in the African continent were in theory obliged to end forced labour. According to the rhetoric, compulsory labour practices disappeared altogether. However, the scrutiny of processes on the ground, comparing French Equatorial Africa and Northern Rhodesia under British rule, shows that the practicalities of the abolition of such labour practices were far more complex. In the French case, colonial officials actively planned for the reorganization of compulsory labour through the back door, mainly through the battle against “vagrancy” and “African laziness”. British administrators continued with practices organized by “native chiefs”, and attempted to maintain involuntary labour through a generous definition of “emergency situations”. In both cases, more profound analysis of the late colonial mind shows interesting continuities in the commitment of European officials to forced labour, which are likely to have been transferred, in part, into the views of the agents of postcolonial states.

In 1989, when Germany became reunified after forty years of separation, no one could overlook the fact that East and West Germany differed greatly with regard to the position of women. The most striking difference of all seemed to lie in the rates of female employment: 91 per cent of all East German women under the age of 60 were counted as being employed, compared to only 55 per cent in West Germany.

Economists and historians have identified the period between 1870 and 1914 as one marked by the movement of capital and labor across the globe at unprecedented speed. The accompanying spread of the gold standard and industrial techniques contained volatile and ambiguous implications for workers everywhere. Industrial engineers made new machinery and industrial techniques the measure of human effort. The plight of workers in South Africa's deep-level gold mines in the era following the Anglo-Boer War of 1899–1902 provides a powerful example of just how lethal the new benchmarks of human effort could be. When by 1904 close to 50,000 Africans refused to return to the mines, mining policy began to coalesce around solving the “labor shortage” problem and dramatically reducing working costs. Engineers, especially American engineers, rapidly gained the confidence of the companies that had made large investments in the deep-level mines of the Far East Rand by bringing more than 60,000 indentured Chinese workers to the mines to make up for the postwar shortfall in unskilled labor in late 1904. But the dangerous working conditions that drove African workers away from many of the deep-level mines persisted. Three years later, in 1907, their persistence provoked a bitter strike by white drill-men.

This paper explores new ways to write history that engages with the lives of animals. It offers a sample card of how social history can be enriched by focusing on history from an animal perspective – and equally, how the tools provided by social history reveals the historicity of animals. The case study is drawn from South African history and the focus is on horses. The paper firstly proposes that horses changed human history not only on the macro-level, but in the small, intimate arena of the bodily, following Febvre’s call for a sensory history. Secondly, this paper explores social history’s long-time concern with agency and with understanding socio-cultural experiences from the perspective of those who actually lived them – in this case, from an equine perspective. Thirdly, the paper asks how social history that takes animals seriously might be written and might offer a fresh dimension to our understanding, with examples from the most analysed event in southern African historiography, the South African War (1899–1902).

The article describes and analyses contrasting forms of protest employed by handloom weavers in South India at two key points in time – the early nineteenth and mid-twentieth centuries. Following Tilly, it examines how changes in the state’s regulatory regime influenced modes of resistance, but extends this analysis to the influence of production structures and social/cultural factors such as caste. It also maps internal structures of solidarity and the changing role of caste and class in shaping them. It tries to show how repertoires of resistance altered with changes, not just in the regulatory regime, but the broader socio-economic context, and foregrounds their adaptability and dynamism. It explores forms of protest and organization shared by weavers with workers from a wide range of occupations (including factory workers). Above all, it questions the notion of the unchanging character of “primordial” identities while seeking to provide a fuller understanding of the emerging dynamic of collective consciousness amongst non-factory workers in modern India.

This paper examines the form, content, and role of petitions in the context of protests occasioned by the handloom weavers of colonial Andhra, particularly the northern districts of the northern Coromandel region, between 1770 and 1820. Minor and major protests and revolts by weavers erupted with increasing frequency from around the middle of the eighteenth century, whenever their socioeconomic structures and conditions of work and trade were under threat from the old and new elites, as well as from the commercial interests of the colonial state. On these occasions, weavers expressed their grievances through petitions and representations, either in combination with other strategies or independently. These petitions therefore offer opportunities to study and identify the economic and social conditions that prompted weavers to resort to collective action. Careful analyses of thepetitions yield considerable insights with respect to the causes of the protests; their spatial and social diffusion; the social profile of contending parties, and their mentalities; the changing organizational structure of the textile industry; the petitions' consequences; and, finally, the attitude of the colonial state towards these petitions.

The formal structure of Thomas More's Utopia is simple and well known. It consists of two books, the first of which contains, in the form of a dialogue between More and an imaginary traveller, Raphael Hythloday, a sharp criticism of English social conditions, the enclosure movement, the penal code and the existing pattern of international relations. The second, in the form of a lengthy tale related by Hythloday, is a description of the social, economic, political and religious conditions of the Isle of Nowhere, Utopia.

In the decades following the development of the first electronic digital computers, the computer industry in the United States grew from nothing into an important and expansive sector of the American economy. Whereas in the early 1950s electronic computers were generally regarded as interesting but extravagant scientific curiosities, by 1963 these devices and their associated peripherals formed the basis of a billion-dollar industry. By the beginning of the 1970s, more than 165,000 computers had been installed in the United States alone, and the computer and software industries employed several hundred thousand individuals worldwide.

This article argues that despite the different contexts of the Ottoman peasant uprisings in Vidin, Canik, and Kisrawan during the mid-nineteenth century, the attitudes and actions of peasants in the three revolts were remarkably similar. The moral economy of the peasants played an important role in determining their attitudes to the upper classes and to the state. During agrarian conflicts, the peasants received no support from outside but were well organized, used violence selectively, refused to pay taxes they deemed unfair, tended to radicalize, and preferred to deal with central instead of local authorities. Their preference for dealing with central authorities stemmed not from any naive monarchism, but from their realistic assessment of the local balance of power and a pragmatic desire to bypass it; and from their wish to have recourse to the moral authority of the sultan. The article will conclude that the rebels did not rise up against the Tanzimat reforms, nor did they simply misunderstand them; rather, they endorsed the reform programme, reinterpreted it through rumour, and strove to radicalize it.

The essays collected in this volume demonstrate that during the age of revolution (1760s–1840s) most sectors of the maritime industries experienced higher levels of unrest than is usually recognized. Ranging across global contexts including the Atlantic, Indian, and Pacific Oceans as well as the Caribbean, Andaman, and South China Seas, and exploring the actions of sailors, laborers, convicts, and slaves, this collection offers a fresh, sea-centered way of seeing the confluence between space, agency, and political economy during this crucial period. In this introduction we contend that the radicalism of the age of revolution can best be viewed as a geographically connected process, and that the maritime world was central to its multiple eruptions and global character. Mutiny therefore can be seen as part of something bigger and broader: what we have chosen to call maritime radicalism, a term as well as a concept that has had virtually no presence in the literature on the revolutionary era until now.

The introduction of conscription in the Ottoman Empire of course was closely linked to the introduction of a European-style army, but it did not coincide with it.

As is well known, the first attempt to create an army which was trained, equipped and dressed in the contemporary European fashion, was made by Sultan Selim III in 1792. His Nizam-i Cedid (New Order) army by all accounts was quite an impressive achievement in itself. Starting from a strength of about 2,500, the corps had 22,685 men and 1,590 officers in 1806, half of them stationed in the capital, the rest in provincial centres in Anatolia. When pressure against him and his new army on the part of the old army establishment, primarily the Janissaries, mounted, however, the Sultan succumbed without any attempt to use the considerable strength of his new army and disbanded the corps in 1808.

The Nizam troops constituted a professional army. They were not recruited on the basis of universal conscription, but rather in a fashion which is reminiscent of the system introduced by Peter the Great in Russia or the Bunichah system in Persia. Governors and notables in Anatolia (not in the Balkans or the Arab provinces) were required to send contingents of peasant boys to Istanbul for training. Those enrolled in the corps remained under arms for an unspecified period.

The article deals with an outstanding example of transnational trade union cooperation in the transport industry. It analyses the attempts of trade unions organized in the International Transportworkers' Federation (ITF) to establish a system of multinational industrial relations and collective bargaining in the flags-of-convenience shipping, which integrated national trade unions and their politics in international problematic interdependencies. Although based on egoistic national special interests and without formal restrictions on national sovereignty the cooperation leads to an international regime. It regulates the rights to organize and represent crews on ships of convenience in industrial relations, it lays down minimum standards for working conditions and incomes, and procedures for the multinational decision-making process and management of conflicts. The trade unions succeeded in regulating about 29 per cent of flags-of-convenience shipping and in establishing a multinational control of national collective bargaining, which is integrated in a system of international governance in the trade union sphere of activities. It is based on an imbalance of power between trade union organizations of industrialized and developing countries within the ITF and on specific conditions in transport industry, and therefore not transferable to other industries.

It is a well-established fact that foreign immigrants and visitors played a major role in the emergence of American anarchism. During the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, European-born artisans and peasants – Germans and Czechs, Italians and Spaniards, Russians and Jews – constituted the mass base of the movement, while its intellectual leadership included well-known speakers and writers from diverse countries, who came either as permanent settlers or on extended lecture tours.

The problem of de-industrialization has undergone a decisive transmutation in the past two decades, roughly from the moment when it was linked to proto-industrialization at the Budapest Economic History Conference in 1981. Also interacting with the remarkable efforts of Immanuel Wallerstein and his colleagues who dated the formation of a “world economic system” from the expansion of European conquest and trade in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, its place in historical and sociological analysis rapidly transcended local concerns (such as the warmly received 1982 study by Bluestone and Harrison of the American “rust belt”) and has become an element in the overall problematique of global capitalism. Only very recently, however, have the necessary studies (and hence theoretical perspectives) formed an appropriate critical mass to integrate the concept of de-industrialization fully into the long-term history of economic globalism. We are coming to understand that the phenomenon at the tip of the tongue of every head of state and the source of massive (and lethal) protest that came to be termed “globalization” in ordinary parlance around 1990 is hardly new and, most importantly, not simply a one-way street originating in the West.

The role of women as mineworkers and as household workers has been erased. Here, we challenge the masculinity associated with the mines, taking a longer-term and a global labour history perspective. We foreground the importance of women as mineworkers in different parts of the world since the early modern period and analyse the changes introduced in coal mining in the nineteenth and early twentieth century, the masculinization and mechanization, and the growing importance of women in contemporary artisanal and small-scale mining. The effect of protective laws and the exclusion of women from underground tasks was to restrict women's work more to the household, which played a pivotal role in mining communities but is insufficiently recognized. This process of “de-labourization” of women's work was closely connected with the distinction between productive and unproductive labour. This introductory article therefore centres on the important work carried out in the household by women and children. Finally, we present the three articles in this Special Theme and discuss how each of them is in dialogue with the topics addressed here. Many thanks also to Marie-José Spreeuwenberg for her invaluable engagement.

The creation of the World Federation of Trade Unions in October 1945 was intended as a major step towards international trade-union unity. Less than four years later, in January 1949, the secession of its British, American and Dutch affiliates, soon to be followed by the bulk of Western trade union centres, left the international labour movement more divided than ever. Narrative accounts of the WFTU's brief life as a united body and of the developments leading to the schism have long been available and are not matters of contention. As to the cause of the split, however, there is less agreement. The ostensible reason for the secession was the failure of the WFTU to reach agreement with the International Trade Secretariats (ITSs) on their relationship with one another. Those who split away always contended that disagreements over trade-union matters led to the rupture. In recent years, however, with the opening up of national archives, attention has turned to the influence of governments in the field of international trade unionism. In particular the interventionist role of the US State Department acting through the American Federation of Labour has been chronicled. However, as yet no full account of the activities of the British Foreign Office in this area is available. Given the fact that the British Trades Union Congress was the instigator of the schism and the single most influential union centre to leave the WFTU, an examination of Foreign Office relations with it would seem to be warranted. Equally the relationships between the Foreign Office and the State Department and between the TUC and the American Congress of Industrial Organisations, the two principal Western centres in the WFTU, are matters of considerable interest.