Printer Friendly

Talkin' about class formation.

Reading Boris Mironov's assessment of the role of workers in the 1917 revolution immediately swept me back to the 1970s, when an entire cohort of historians of Russia engaged with a broader community of historians of labor to reassess the prevailing view of Russian workers as "dark masses" (from the right) or "red masses" (from the left). Seeking to replace condescension with respect for individuals as well as for sources, we social historians sought to interrogate these generalizations, whether from the right or the left, whether about "irrational" peasant-workers or monolithic working-class armies. (1) In bringing these methods to the study of the 1917 revolution, this cohort--whether looking at workers, peasants, soldiers, or sailors--contributed to a new consensus that dispelled theories of revolution based on assumptions of conspiracies (German or Masonic) or coups d'etats. If in our early writing, we confronted these interpretations each time we presented our evidence, after a while these old views of conspiracies aided by idiotic social forces became so discredited that we no longer needed to engage with them. Now the argument of "cannon fodder" is back, challenging a 30-plus-year consensus about the nature of the Russian working class in 1917.

"Class theory" has remained important to me and this broad cohort of scholars as a heuristic tool for analyzing the phenomena of revolution and worker experience. The work of E. P. Thompson, Eric Hobsbawm, and others led us to seek to disentangle "class," to search for divisions as much as commonalities. (2) Demographic data--especially from censuses and other forms of social surveys--were necessary but not sufficient to draw conclusions. Mironov acknowledges as much when he recognizes that "the proletariat was also distinct from other groups in terms of its multilayered social structure" (354). Their political views could be varied. But he rejects the distinction among "vanguard," "intelligent," and "socialist-minded" workers and the mass of backward, patriarchal, alcoholic, thieving workers. Even the "vanguard" was insufficiently advanced to act politically without mentors from the intelligentsia, he says. For Mironov, the primary attribute of "workers" is their low level of literacy (drawn from census aggregates), which meant they were unable to think critically or analytically. Thus he considers "workers" to be a mass of deplorables who did not really understand what they were supporting.

But let's take "multiple structure" a little more seriously. The more closely we look at work experience, the more we see many sources of difference and distinction. It is now well established for European, US, and Russian historiography that artisanal workers--laboring in small shops, possessing high levels of skills, proud of their ability to control their own working conditions--were the leaders of the earliest trade unions and other formsoflabororganization. (3) Contrary to Marx, the more complex organization of large factories did not predispose workers there to imagine parallel forms of labor organization. For labor historians, "skill" has become an important analytical tool. However imprecisely we can distinguish among "skilled," "semiskilled," and "unskilled," labor historians have shown how workers who share these attributes react to economic and political challenges in similar ways, precisely because the nature of their work shapes the way they see their world. (4) Certain types of trades were more conducive to drinking on the job: one cannot track alcoholism along a straight line from "backwards" to "politically aware." (5) Gender (a category of analysis that came late to labor history and that troubles Mironov not at all) and generation complicate these divisions and our ability to generalize about structure. Many skilled male workers refused to believe that women could acquire skills at all. The different social roles of men and women also led them to different forms of activism, not neatly measurable in trade union membership statistics or arrest records. (6)

Historians of Russian labor have long noted the distinctiveness of patterns of labor migration, with men leading the way to the cities and living in bachelor communities. (7) But they have disagreed on the political significance of this phenomenon. Did having "one foot in the city and industry and the other very much in agriculture and the countryside" (354) make workers more or less likely to engage in political action? Did they have less to lose because they could always go back to the farm and thus were willing to risk "buntism"? Or were they uninterested in long-term commitment to improve their work conditions and indifferent to the appeals of "vanguard" worker organizers? We need fine-grained social and political analysis to assess the role of "workers" in the revolutionary events of 1917. The category of "hereditary proletarian" is insufficient to describe the diversity of Russian workers.

It is also important to consider process as well as demographic snapshots. Mironovcites Soviet historians as asserting that "the formation of the proletariat as a class in Marxist terms had been effectively accomplished in late tsarist Russia by the 1880s" (351), acknowledges that "an influential school of social historical research" concludes that class formation was completed in 1917 (352), but notes that "hereditary workers" "even by 1929" did not consist of more than 52 percent of industrial workers (353). Oversimplifying, this assumes nothing had changed--not the structure of industry, technological requirements, and, of course, politics. Such a statement implies that one's place of birth alone determined "consciousness," rather than the accumulation of experiences and the role of ideas and language in the interpretation of these experiences. (8)

But let's return to theory. Mironov invokes a kind of simplistic Marxist notion of class formation in order to reject its applicability to the Russian Revolution. A number of theorists--sociologists, political scientists, historians--have continued to engage with concepts of class, class formation, and class consciousness in order to explain labor mobilization, protest, and revolution. Among the most successful of them has been the political scientist Ira Katznelson, who amplified Marxist ideas in his 1986 edited volume, Working-Class Formation. (9) This work had great resonance for Russian historians and inspired the 1994 volume edited by Lewis Siegelbaum and Ronald Suny, Making Workers Soviet. Their aim deserves quoting at length:
   This theme [working-class formation] had long figured prominently
   in Soviet historiography, but only in quantitative or statistical
   rather than analytical or interpretive terms. Typically, historians
   have been more concerned with registering the growth of class
   consciousness among the proletariat than with inquiring into how
   and why such a consciousness crowded out others, and more oriented
   toward demonstrating the preponderance of industrial workers in
   party and state institutions and improvements in their material and
   cultural well-being after 1917 than with interrogating the quality
   of such participation or the persistence of relations of domination
   and subordination within the party and state as well as on the shop
   floor. (10)


Katznelson's schema of class formation is not a road map, but it is very useful in providing explanations for the role of Russian workers in 1917- Following Marx's schema of "class in itself--class for itself," which distinguishes between objective and subjective factors of class formation, structure, and action, Katznelson posits four levels in the hypothetical map of class formation. He insists that this is a classification scheme, not a series of developmental stages. The first is the structure of capitalist economic development, which creates a "proletariat," wage laborers who have a common subordinated relationship to capital. But nothing about attitudes or behavior can be inferred from this structural fact; knowing the size of Russia's factory labor force or even the percentage of "hereditary" workers does not explain politics. Furthermore, one should not assume a linear expansion of this factory proletariat, as some modernization theorists do; it is a known fact that the 1917 revolution was followed by a significant "deproletarianization," as workers left the wage labor force. (11) After all, even the Old Bolshevik Alexander Shliapnikov quipped to the delegates of the Tenth Party Congress in 1921 that they should be congratulated on "being the vanguard of a non-existent class." (12)

More important for historical analysis is the second level of class, the social organization of society lived by actual people in real social formations. "Work leaves the home. Cross-class households break up. Whole regions of cities come to be defined as areas of residence or production.... With these separations between work and home and between the social classes in space, class relations are lived and experienced not only at work but also off work in residence communities." (13) A "working-class neighborhood" is more than a census tract; as labor historians of many countries have shown, it is a dense network of social and economic relationships, where family strategies are shaped by the labor market, where the concentration of wage laborers creates a physical sense of them versus us. We can see this second level of class in Manchester's Salford, in the Billancourt District of Paris, the Vyborg District in Petersburg, or Krasnaia Presnia in Moscow. (14) It is families living in tiny apartments, along with single male workers in their barracks or living with pals from their native villages, shopping at the same shops, drinking in the same tea rooms, strolling on the same rough streets. This is the reason many of us labeled ourselves working-class historians rather than labor historians, because these experiences encompass a much broader arena than the workplace (labor) alone.

The third level describes a process in which these shared experiences are manifested in "formed groups, sharing dispositions." Or as E. P. Thompson has famously written, "we are thinking of a very loosely-defined body of people who share the same congeries of interests, social experiences, traditions, and value-system, who have a disposition to behave as a class, to define themselves in their actions and in their consciousness in relation to other groups of people in class ways." (15) These dispositions do not arise automatically from social position or economic structure, "rather, they are plausible and meaningful responses to the circumstances workers find themselves in." (16) Sometimes the language in which to frame those responses comes from pamphlets or activists; Eduard Dune recalls the impact of a socialist pamphlet received from a fellow night-school student in crystallizing his own sense of a class interpretation of the world. (17) But such interventions only become effective because they make sense of the individuals' own social and economic experiences.

At the fourth level of class, these dispositions may become translated into a propensity to act collectively through forming organizations like trade unions, electing deputies to neighborhood and city soviets, supporting a political party that promotes class interests, or setting up worker-based militias. There can be other ways to explain collective action and protest (such as dispositions and divisions along racial, ethnic, religious, or national lines). It is the historian's job to examine the content of each level and the connections between them in specific historical situations.

Mironov argues that Russia's workers were duped by the Bolsheviks to support a revolution not in their interests because their low levels of literacy and traditions of patriarchy meant that they were incapable of independent thought; that their rootlessness, familylessness, and illiteracy predisposed them to political manipulation; and that their "socialism" was nothing more than an instinctual response to frustration, a response that just as often translated into crime or anarchy as to socialist politics. He offers us "masses." The social historians whose works he cites but dismisses offered us the kind of analysis of class formation, at each level, that Katznelson invited in his essay

The kind of class analysis represented by Katznelson and our respect for the past require us to take seriously the notion of "agency," not as a given but as a possibility of historical action. This is the approach I took in my first book, Moscow Workers and the 1917 Revolution. First, I emphasized the range of diversities and antagonisms among workers themselves. Workers in small shops faced organizational constraints different from those confronted by workers in large plants. Metal workers least of all cast their votes for the hugely popular peasant-oriented Socialist Revolutionary Party in the June city duma elections. Workers with relatively high wages tended to strike more often and more easily than poorly paid workers. But having established these facts of diversity, I also emphasized how the political process of the revolutionary months inculcated new understandings of political culture among these workers. The experience of electing deputies, debating resolutions, discussing monetary contributions to political causes, and choosing political parties all helped develop workers' political consciousness. Analyzing the individual examples of worker participation in the revolution, I found "overwhelming evidence not of workers' notoriously irrational militancy but in fact of its opposite. The behavior of Moscow's workers in 1917 suggests a working class that was both highly rational in its responses to the political and economic pressures of 1917 and extremely patient as well." (18) I did in fact chart a trend toward radicalization that culminated in Moscow workers' overwhelming support for a transfer of power to the soviets, but I also emphasized that this was not the same as support for the Bolshevik Party. Radicalization took place in response to specific economic and political pressures: for example, when the factory management announced a long-term suspension of work for lack of fuel, and the factory committee found ample reserves in a neighboring district. And if workers were overwhelmingly supportive of socialist political parties even at the start of the revolution, there was also strong support for a national solution, not a class one, to the political crisis. The revolutionary unity of March 1917 fell apart along class lines due to economic conditions but also because capitalists began to behave as Marx said they would: no concessions to the workers, no compromise on the rights of factory owners. The Bolsheviks had offered the most consistent class interpretation of the revolution, and by late summer, their interpretation appeared to correspond more and more to reality. The language of class proffered by both Bolsheviks and Mensheviks helped Moscow's workers make sense of their experiences. I concluded that the combination of theory and experience had produced Moscow's class consciousness.

My work, and that of other historians whose analyses produced similar conclusions, was based on our immersion in the sources generated at the time. Newspapers published by Moscow's competing political parties reported on workers' political resolutions, listed their monetary contributions to political causes, reported on elections, and reported on strikes. Steve Smith and David Mandel used similar types of sources--newspapers and trade union journals published at the time and documents of the factory committees and district soviets published later. (19) Alexander Rabinowitch convincingly reconstructed the Bolsheviks' coming to power using similar ground-level accounts of political organizations, emphasizing the ways in which the Bolshevik Party was responsive to the rank-and-file and to the political reasonableness of those lower, working-class committees. (20) While none of us at that time had access to archives such as those of the Moscow or Petrograd soviets, I know of no studies using these more recently available sources that challenge our original findings about the rationality of the political process in 1917. Mironov bases his assessment of workers not on our work but on the contemporary observations of Petr Durnovo, the last imperial minister of the interior, the religious philosopher (among other things) Vasilii Rozanov, and Maurice Paleologue, French ambassador to Russia in 1914--actors whose own class politics predisposed them to distrust workers and the socialists they supported.

One hundred years after the events themselves, it is certainly timely (or trendy) to ask whether our now-old story needs to be revised. Lewis Siegelbaum's 2006 review of several decades of Soviet labor history notes the limitations of our "romance" with the Russian working class in 1917 (and later), including the privileging of the industrial workplace over other sites such as offices, shops, and streets and the subordinating of individual life histories to "grand" narratives of class, oppression, resistance, and protest. (21) In our effort to rescue Russia's workers from the "enormous condescension of posterity," as E. P. Thompson famously pronounced, perhaps there was a tendency to overidealize Russian workers in their revolutionary moment, overlooking "darker" shades of criminality, alcoholism, brute violence, misogyny, and political apathy. (22)

Take crime, for example. The work of Tsuyoshi Hasegawa has called attention to the "depth of the crisis caused by crime" in shaping political attitudes in 1917. (23) Mironov cites crime statistics to show that workers were disproportionately engaged in criminal activity in the imperial period. The work of Charters Wynn on the prerevolutionary Donbass-Dnepr Bend has indeed documented criminal and violent behavior on the part of the very same workers who participated in revolutionary politics: "Workers in the Donbass-Dnepr Bend repeatedly united in revolutionary strikes, rallies, and confrontations with troops. They also engaged in bloody pogroms and counterrevolutionary backlashes, which regularly followed on the heels of mass revolutionary demonstrations." (24) In many cases, these were the very same workers, but he also shows that often more skilled workers tried to dissuade their less-skilled colleagues from engaging in pogroms. (25) Hasegawa notes that in 1917, the urban poor were the most frequent victims of crimes, and he blames the lawlessness not on the "criminal" proclivities of workers but on the collapse of the police. He shows that the crime rate in Petrograd's working-class districts was lower than in the center, attributing this to the role of worker organization--factory committees, district soviets, and the workers' militia. (26) At the same time, the overidentification of "classes laborieuses" with "classes dangereuses" is also a well-known phenomenon. (27) Mironov explicitly links "strike participation," "low factory discipline," and "criminality." All three phenomena are well-known indicators of resistance. To attribute such behavior only to blind frustration, "antisocial" tendencies, or "negative psychological states" is inadequate. (28) At any rate, aggregate crime statistics require much more careful analysis, since we know that criminality is not an objective characteristic but often resides in the eye of the beholder. Types of crime matter too: attitudes about private property differed between those who had some and those who did not. The Moscow worker Eduard Dune recalled his mother's teaching "that a thief who stole a piece of bread to satisfy hunger was not a criminal, but a poor person too ashamed to beg." (29)

Gender also received relatively little scrutiny in the early social histories of 1917. Women were present in bread lines, factory meetings, strikes, and the voting booth, and historians attempted to tease out gendered patterns of collective action. (30) Barbara Engels analysis of World War I subsistence riots links our concerns with crime and politics: "the riots reveal a shared hostility toward people whose money gave them privileged access to scarce goods and toward the policemen, officials, and, eventually, the ruler who failed to ensure equality in deprivation." (31) But not all of us asked probing questions about the relationship between men and women, and we perhaps deferred to Alexandra Kollontai on the compatibility of their revolutionary interests. Subsequent work on gender, including masculinity, has helped complicate our understanding of gender roles in revolutionary politics. Elizabeth Wood, in particular, has explored the "rhetorical and institutional ambivalence as to whether female citizens were fundamentally the same as males or different from them" in the early years of the Soviet regime, showing how this ambivalence remained unresolved. (32) My own study of Russian printers in the 1920s revealed the deep-seated misogyny of male workers, whether Communists, new recruits, or skilled craftsmen. (33) Mironov assigns to women the role of stabilizing the family in nuclear urban households; their absence left single males adrift and vulnerable to irrationality. They have no agency themselves.

Most historians have documented a growing class polarization that occurred in Russia between February and October 1917: workers on one side, the privileged and the property owners on the other. But to argue that "class formation" in the Katznelson sense could be observed in Russia in October 1917 is not to insist that the process could not be reversed. If most workers supported the Bolsheviks in October, and a majority of the urban population voted to send Bolsheviks to the Constituent Assembly in November, many studies have shown how and why this support eroded in the years of the Civil War and how the Bolshevik regime resorted to repression of heterodox socialist views. (34) The polarization--and class formation--did not last. Politically, analysis of the elections to city dumas and others in 1917 shows how the "middle" dropped out, either aligning with one side or the other, or opting out of politics altogether. (35) We might wish to know more about their political culture, their educational achievements, their world views. What role could these educated absentees have played in the political process of 1917 and after? How and why did they become disenfranchised? If our romance of the Russian worker led us to ignore other strata of society, then all the more reason to complicate and not simplify the way we approach the social history of 1917.

Dept. of History

309 Gregory Hall, MC 466

University of Illinois

810 S. Wright

Urbana, IL 61801 USA

dkoenker@illinois.edu

(1) The works of leading exemplars for each side, Richard Pipes and I.I. Mints, were remarkably similar in their one-dimensional understanding of Russia's workers (Pipes, The Russian Revolution [New York: Vintage, 1990]; Mints, Istoriia velikogo oktiabria, 3 vols. [Moscow: Nauka, 1967-73]). It is important to note that the social history perspective enriched the work of many Soviet scholars as well as those in the West, including P. V. Volobuev, Proletariat i burzhuaziia Rossii v 1917g. (Moscow: Mysl', 1964); and Iu. I. Kir' ianov, Rabochie Iuga Rossii, 1914-fevr. 1917g. (Moscow: Nauka, 1971).

(2) E.P.Thompson, The Making of the English Working Class (London: Victor Gollancz, 1963); E. J. Hobsbawm, Labouring Men: Studies in the History of Labour (New York: Basic Books, 1964); Hobsbawm, Workers: Worlds of Labor (New York: Pantheon, 1984); David Montgomery, The Fall of the House of Labor (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987). For surveys of the voluminous writings of Western social historians of Russian labor, see Ronald Grigor Suny, "Toward a Social History of the October Revolution," American Historical Review 88, 1 (1983): 31-53; Lewis H. Siegelbaum and Suny, "Class Backwards? In Search of the Soviet Working Class," in Making Workers Soviet: Power, Class, and Identity, ed. Siegelbaum and Suny (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1994), 1-26; and Siegelbaum, "The Late Romance of the Soviet Worker in Western Historiography," International Review of Social History 51, 3 (2006): 463-81.

(3) A representative but hardly exhaustive list includes Joan Wallach Scott, The Glassworkers of Carmaux: French Craftsmen and Political Action in a Nineteenth-Century City (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1974); Eric Hobsbawm and Scott, "Political Shoemakers," in Hobsbawm, Workers, 103-30; Bernard Moss, The Origins of the French Labor Movement, 1830-1914: The Socialism of Skilled Workers (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1976); Michael P. Hanagan, The Logic of Solidarity: Artisans and Skilled Workers in Ihree French Towns (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1980); Sean Wilentz, Chants Democratic: New York and the Rise of the American Working Class, 1788-1850 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1984); Victoria E. Bonnell, Roots of Rebellion: Workers' Politics and Organizations in St. Petersburg and Moscow, 1900-1914 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983); and Mark D. Steinberg, Moral Communities: The Culture of Class Relations in the Russian Printing Industry, 1867-1907 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1992).

(4) See, e.g., Royden Harrison and Jonathan Zeitlin, eds., Divisions of Labour: Skilled Workers and Technological Change in Nineteenth-Century England (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1985); and Diane Koenker and William G. Rosenberg, "Skilled Workers and the Strike Movement in Revolutionary Russia," Journal of Social History 19, 4 (1986): 605-29.

(5) Laura L. Phillips, Bolsheviks and the Bottle: Drink and Worker Culture in St. Petersburg, 1900-1920 (DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 2000), 61-64; Steinberg, Moral Communities, 70-77.

(6) Anna Clark, The Struggle for the Breeches: Gender and the Making of the English Working Class (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995); Kathleen Canning, Languages of Labor and Gender: Female Factory Work in Germany, 1850-1914 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1996); Rose L. Glickman, Russian Factory Women: Workplace and Society, 1880-1914 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984); Barbara Engel, "Not by Bread Alone: Subsistence Riots in Russia during World War IJournal of Modern History 69, 4 (1997): 696-721.

(7) Leopold Haimson, "The Problem of Social Stability in Urban Russia, 1905-1914," Slavic Review 23, 4 (1964): 61942 and 24, 1 (1965): 1-22; Kirianov, Rabochie Iuga Rossii; Robert Eugene Johnson, Peasant and Proletarian: The Working Classes of Moscow in the Late Nineteenth Century (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1979).

(8) Here the magisterial work of Reginald Zelnik has helped to foreground subjectivity and experience: see S. I. Kanatchikov, A Radical Worker in Tsarist Russia: The Autobiography of Semen Ivanovich Kanatchikov, ed. Reginald E. Zelnik (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1986); and Zelnik, Law and Disorder on the Narova River: The Kreenholm Strike of 1872 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995).

(9) Ira Katznelson, "Working-Class Formation: Constructing Cases and Comparisons," in Working-Class Formation: Nineteenth-Century Patterns in Western Europe and the United States, ed. Katznelson and Aristide R. Zolberg (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1986), 3-41.

(10) Lewis H. Siegelbaum and Ronald Grigor Suny, "Preface," in Making Workers Soviet, ix.

(11) See, e.g., Diane Koenker, "Urbanization and Deurbanization in the Russian Revolution and Civil War," Journal of Modern History 57, 3 (1985): 424-50; and William J. Chase, Workers, Society, and the Soviet State: Labor and Life in Moscow, 1918-1929 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1987), chap. 1.

(12) Barbara C. Allen, Alexander Shlyapnikov, 1885-1937: Life of an Old Bolshevik (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 245.

(13) Katznelson, "Working-Class Formation," 16.

(14) Robert Roberts, [he Classic Slum: SalfordLife in the First Quarter of the Century (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1971); Alain Touraine, L'evolution du travail ouvrier aux usines Renault (Paris: CNRS, 1955); James H. Bater, St. Petersburg: industrialization and Change (London: Edward Arnold, 1976); Heather Hogan, Forging Revolution: Metalworkers, Managers, and the State in St. Petersburg, 1890-1914 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1993); Robert B. McKean, St. Petersburg between the Revolutions: Workers and Revolutionaries, June 1907--February 1917 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990); Laura Engelstein, Moscow, 1905: Working-Class Organization and Political Conflict (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1982). On the comparability of these neighborhoods, see James E. Cronin, "Labor Insurgency and Class Formation: Comparative Perspectives on the Crisis of 1917-1920 in Europe," Social Science History A, 1 (1980): 125-52.

(15) E. P. Thompson, "The Peculiarities of the English," Socialist Register 2 (1965): 357, quoted in Katznelson, "Working-Class Formation," 18.

(16) Katznelson, "Working-Class Formation," 19.

(17) Eduard M. Dune, Notes of a Red Guard ed. and trans. Diane P. Koenker and S. A. Smith (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1993), 16-17.

(18) Diane Koenker, Moscow Workers and the 1917 Revolution (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1981), 359.

(19) S. A. Smith, Red Petrograd: Revolution in the Factories, 1917-1918 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1983); M. David Mandel, The Petrograd Workers and the Fall of the Old Regime: From the February Revolution to the July Days, 1917 (New York: St. Martins, 1983); Mandel, The Petrograd Workers and the Soviet Seizure of Power: From the July Days 1917 to July 1918 (London: Macmillan, 1984).

(20) Alexander Rabinowitch, The Bolsheviks Come to Power: The Revolution of 1917 in Petrograd (New York: W. W. Norton, 1976).

(21) Siegelbaum, "Late Romance of the Soviet Worker," 471.

(22) Thompson, Making of the English Working Class, 12.

(23) Tsuyoshi Hasegawa, "Crime and Police in Revolutionary Petrograd, March 1917-March 1918: Social History of the Russian Revolution Revisited " Acta Slavica Iaponica 13, 4 (1995): 1-41; Hasegawa, "Crime, Police, and Mob Justice in Petrograd during the Russian Revolutions of 1917," in Revolutionary Russia: New Approaches to the Russian Revolution of 1917, ed. Rex Wade (London: Routledge, 2004), 46-71; see also Michael C. Hickey, "Moderate Socialists and the Politics of Crime in Revolutionary Smolensk," Canadian-American Slavic Studies 35, 2-3 (2001): 189-218.

(24) Charters Wynn, Workers, Strikes, and Pogroms: The Donbass-Dnepr Bend in Late Imperial Russia, 1870-1905 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1992), 255.

(25) Ibid., 263.

(26) Hasegawa, "Crime, Police, and Mob Justice," 65.

(27) The classic study is Louis Chevalier, Classes laborieuses et classes dangereuses a Paris pendant la premiere moitie du XIXe siecle (Paris: Plon, 1958); see also Joan Neuberger, Hooliganism: Crime, Culture, and Power in St. Petersburg, 1900-1914 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), and Robin D. G. Kelley, "'We Are Not What We Seem': Rethinking Black Working-Class Opposition in the Jim Crow South," Journal of American History 80, 1 (1993): 75-112, on the "infrapolitics" of resistance.

(28) B. N. Mironov, Rossiiskaia imperiia: Ot traditsii k modernu, 3 vols. (St. Petersburg: Dmitrii Bulanin, 2014), 3:134.

(29) Dune, Notes of a Red Guard, 82.

(30) Diane P. Koenker and William G. Rosenberg, Strikes and Revolution in Russia, 1917 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1989), 314-17.

(31) Engel, "Not by Bread Alone," 721.

(32) Elizabeth Wood, The Baba and the Comrade: Gender and Politics in Revolutionary Russia (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1997), 5. On masculinities, see Eliot Borenstein, Men without Women: Masculinity and Revolution in Russian Fiction, 1917-1929 (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2000); and Barbara Evans Clements, Rebecca Friedman, and Dan Healey, eds., Russian Masculinities in History and Culture (New York: Palgrave, 2002).

(33) Diane P. Koenker, "Men against Women on the Shop Floor in Early Soviet Russia: Gender and Class in the Socialist Workplace," American Historical Review 100, 5 (1995): 1438-64.

(34) Diane P. Koenker, Republic of Labor: Russian Printers and Soviet Socialism, 1918-1930 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2005), chap. 2; William G. Rosenberg, "The Social Background to Tsektran," in Party, State, and Society in the Russian Civil War: Explorations in Social History, ed. Koenker, Rosenberg, and Ronald Grigor Suny (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1989), 349-73; Simon Pirani, The Russian Revolution in Retreat, 1920-24: Soviet Workers and the New Communist Elite (New York: Routledge, 2008); Rabinowitch, Bolsheviks in Power-: The First Year of Soviet Rule in Petrograd (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2007); Jonathan Aves, Workers against Lenin: Labour Protest and the Bolshevik Dictatorship (London: Tauris Academic Studies, 1996).

(35) William G. Rosenberg, "The Russian Municipal Duma Elections of 1917," Soviet Studies 21, 2 (1969): 131-63; Daniel T. Orlovsky, "State-Building in the Civil War Era: The Role of Lower-Middle Strata," in Party, State, and Society, 180-209; Orlovsky, "The Lower Middle Strata in Revolutionary Russia," in Between Tsar and People: Educated Society and the Quest for Public Identity in Late Imperial Russia, ed. Edith W. Clowes, Samuel D. Kassow, and James L. West (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1991), 248-68.
COPYRIGHT 2017 Slavica Publishers, Inc.
No portion of this article can be reproduced without the express written permission from the copyright holder.
Copyright 2017 Gale, Cengage Learning. All rights reserved.

Article Details
Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback
Author:Koenker, Diane P.
Publication:Kritika
Article Type:Essay
Geographic Code:4EXRU
Date:Mar 22, 2017
Words:5078
Previous Article:Interrogating working-class lives: evidence in social history.
Next Article:On cannon fodder and straw men.
Topics:

Terms of use | Privacy policy | Copyright © 2021 Farlex, Inc. | Feedback | For webmasters