On 17 December 2010, the self-immolation of a young street vendor in Sidi Bouzid, a town in inland Tunisia, instigated the uprisings that became known as the Arab Spring or the Arab Revolutions – a wording that I will use here as a translation from the Arabic al-thawrât al-`arabiyya. Observers were shocked at the radical protests arising in these regions, where authoritarian regimes had crushed all serious opposition over the decades. Conflicts governed by geopolitics, in particular the ongoing Israeli–Arab and Israeli–Palestinian hostilities, and the focus on political Islam and jihadism as the only globalized locus of political protest, have arrogated any attention for societies, their transformation, and their mobilization.
This article examines the removal of children from factories and their integration into the school system in the early nineteenth century, using decommodification as a conceptual framework. The Swiss canton of Aargau serves as a case study – a region where the textile industry flourished and a liberal government came to power after the July Revolution, subsequently enforcing compulsory education. Through a nuanced exploration of diverse sources, the article argues that decommodification was a deeply contentious process marked by conflicts between working-class families, factory owners, the state, and the church. Simultaneously, these conflicts unleashed dynamic forces that coded working-class childhood in terms of age and gender. It is this transformational power that underscores the interpretative potential of decommodification as a constructive process of Vergesellschaftung (sociation). Beyond simply freeing children from labour obligations, the prohibition of factory work reintegrated them intricately into the social fabric of the economy.
Daniel Laqua's recent monograph Activism across Borders Since 1870: Causes, Campaigns and Conflicts in and beyond Europe raises a number of pertinent issues for historians of human rights to reflect upon. This article takes the four analytical lenses highlighted by Laqua for assessing transnational activism and applies them to cases of human rights activism in the Cold War and post-Cold War era. In doing so, this article argues that Laqua's framework offers much scope for historians to approach the history of human rights activism with a more critical edge. It also highlights the challenge of retaining an analytical focus on an issue as emotive and complex as human rights, and how Laqua's lenses may offer a practical methodology to do this.
Daniel Laqua's Activism across Borders since 1870 is an impressive contribution to scholarly research on transnational activism. It provides a detailed and innovative study of the connections but also the divisions between individuals, groups, and organizations. Laqua's approach and analysis interrogate the connectedness, transience, ambivalence, and marginality of transnational activism. He explores the complex relationship of campaigners, campaigns, and causes that crossed national boundaries, building a rich analysis of these interactions.
This contribution engages with Activism across Borders with a particular emphasis on women, workers, and women workers. This perspective offers an analysis at the intersection of women's history and labour history. Among the themes considered are: campaigns that forged partnerships and amplified voices; women's transnational activism and national borders; and the divisions and differences among activists campaigning to improve working conditions.
This essay introduces a review dossier dedicated to Daniel Laqua's Activism across Borders since 1870: Causes, Campaigns and Conflicts in and beyond Europe (London, 2023). The dossier features comments by four historians – Constance Bantman, Georgina Brewis, Nicole Robertson, and Mark Hurst – as well as a response from Laqua himself. Laqua's book provides a framework for studying different forms of transnational activism in connection to one another.
This essay engages with Daniel Laqua's book Activism across Borders since 1870: Causes, Campaigns and Conflicts in and beyond Europe (London, 2023) from the perspective of a historian of both humanitarianism and youth. This short reflection therefore focuses primarily on the book's engagement with the topic of humanitarianism, before discussing an understated, albeit important, cross-cutting theme of the book: the significance of youth in transnational activism. It highlights a number of features of Laqua's book, for instance the merits of adopting a broad chronological approach. At the same time, the essay also uses the space to present a number of reflections on activism, from questions about the generational appeal of particular causes to the way in which particular figures might spark activism. It ends with some thoughts about the source base used to write such histories of activism.
This essay discusses different approaches to studying transnational activism in historical perspective. In doing so, it concludes a review dossier in which several historians have commented on aspects of Daniel Laqua's book Activism across Borders since 1870: Causes, Campaigns and Conflicts in and beyond Europe (London, 2023). The author responds to the preceding pieces by addressing the contributors’ questions and arguments, while also noting how their pieces have applied his book's framework to different causes (e.g. anarchism, feminism, human rights, humanitarianism, labour). Moreover, this essay raises several wider points regarding the subject under consideration. For example, it stresses that activists’ notions regarding the interconnectedness of different causes could generate fresh ruptures. The discussion highlights the amorphous nature of transnational activism, including its potential use by vastly different movements, and it situates the book within a broader, and developing, research agenda.
The article analyses the solidarity campaigns organized by the Czechoslovak Committee for Solidarity with African and Asian Peoples between the 1960s and 1980s. It situates the Czechoslovak solidarity towards African countries in the wider framework of the solidarity politics of the Eastern bloc and points out differences as well as similarities. Although the Czechoslovak Solidarity Committee was one of the first such committees to be founded in Eastern Europe, in the 1960s its official as well as public commitment to internationalist principles was modest compared with those of solidarity movements elsewhere in the bloc. However, the solidarity campaigns with African liberation movements intensified in the early 1970s. The campaigns in this period were marked by strong national symbolism, which drew on historical parallels between the African and Czechoslovak struggles for independence. The everyday internationalism in this case filled the public space with images of shared suffering, inferiority, and occupation, through which Czechoslovak citizens made sense of their historical role in the world. The article argues that this “nationalization” of official solidarity campaigns helped to embed the victimization narratives that survived the Velvet Revolution and that, in the 1990s, became a basis for new Czech and Slovak political identification.
The history of Soviet “rights defenders” is seemingly well known. Emerging in the 1960s in response to fears of a creeping re-Stalinization, the rights movement was part of the broader dissident milieu that coalesced in the Khrushchev and Brezhnev eras. Drawing on new documents from the Ukrainian KGB, this article broadens the canon of what we consider “Soviet rights talk” by focusing on a group completely ignored in the existing history of Soviet rights defenders: African students. As the article demonstrates, Soviet citizens were not the only people to draw on a discursive repertoire of civil and universal rights to articulate their demands against the Soviet state. By closely examining the letters and petitions activists produced, it becomes clear that African students’ language of rights grew alongside and, in many respects, pre-empted the Soviet rights movement. The article concludes by considering why, despite sharing the same discursive and physical spaces, neither African nor Soviet rights defenders succeeded in building bridges between their respective islands of protest. Examining this failure to build meaningful solidarities demonstrates the value of pursuing the social history of internationalism; it is only in the banality of the everyday that the capacity for Soviet internationalism to create unanticipated frictions and conflicts reveals itself.