Role of precariousness and space on class formation process: The case of Antalya’s tourism workers

Question of the relation between precariousness and class struggle

As mentioned at the very beginning of the paper, in order to make a class analysis of a particular worker group, it is necessary to take into account the impact of the peculiarities of the period in question on class struggle. In this study, it is argued that precariousness is experienced by the wide range of workers under neoliberalism and its effects on class struggle need to be mentioned. In order to clarify what is meant by precariousness and how it affects class struggle it is necessary first to define precarious employment. Vosko (2010: 2) argues that precarious employment is: “shaped by the relationship between employment status (i.e. self-or paid employment), form of employment (i.e. temporary or permanent, part time or full time), and dimensions of labour market insecurity as well as social context (e.g. occupation, industry, and geography) and social location (or the interaction between social relations, such as gender, and legal and political categories, such as citizenship)”. As can be deduced from Vosko’s definition, precarious employment is a multidimensional concept with varying degrees.

Precariousness, on the other hand, is a concept that is not limited to the labour process due to the fact that being precarious in the relations of production penetrates into the social relations of re-production in a variety of ways. In this sense, another significant concept that should accompany precariousness is uncertainty. Uncertainty is defined by Ebralidze (2012: 18) as manifestation of the lack of precognition within the relations of production in the daily life experiences and psychological level. Similarly, Lewchuk et al. (2003: 29) mention employment strains due to precarious employment with reference to seven components which are not limited to the relations of production but enlarged to that of reproduction: employment uncertainty; earnings uncertainty; household precariousness; scheduling uncertainty; location uncertainty; task uncertainty; and employment uncertainty due to workload. With especial reference to household precariousness and location uncertainty Lewchuk et al. (2003) analyse implications of precarious work on whole living conditions not only of the workers themselves but also of their dependants. Therefore, it can be argued that manifestations of precariousness in the relations of production are observed through a variety of strains in all realms of life and so “double precarisation” (i.e precarisation of both and and individual and social production) (Candeias 2008) is experienced. In this respect the definition of precariousness shall not be limited to an employment status but it will encompass the uncertainty of life as a whole that it is manifested in “consciousness and raw material of experience” (Thompson 1963: 9). This is what makes it possible to argue that precariousness is a class issue that can be related to class struggle. The significant point to be underlined is how to relate them. The most famous work regarding this issue is Guy Standing’s The Precariat: The New Dangerous Class (2011) in which precariat is defined as a class in the making. The first argument in Standing’s work is that proletariat and working class are old-fashioned concepts and there is a need for new language of class in late capitalism. Therefore, in his definition of the precariat, Standing mentions exclusiveness of it from the proletariat who have long term, stable, fixed-hour jobs and who are subject to unionisation. Precariat on the other hand, is a unique category in class terms in that it cannot be defined limited to an income level but it must be defined with reference to lack of work-based identity and community support (such as a solidaristic labour community) in times of need. In addition, he notes that the precariat is not yet a class-for-itself due to lack of stability and predictability, which are the factors needed for the formation of solidarity (Standing 2011: 6–22). Standing’s definition of precariat is methodologically problematic due to the way he comes to terms with class and so precariat. Seymour (2013) criticizes Standing’s conceptualisation of precariat from three perspectives. The first, criticism is a methodological one. Clearly, the characteristics Standing attributed to the precariat are not based on Marxian class analysis and its emphases on productive relations and reproduction of the system as a whole. On the other hand, Seymour argues, despite his Weberian inspiration, Standing’s analysis does not stress principles of Weberian class analyses such as property ownership or market position. Secondly, Standing distinguishes the precariat from the working class in so far as the precariat does not belong to a social contract. As Seymour puts it this is a bowdlerised and Eurocentric conception of working class interpreted solely through Labourism. The third and the most significant deficiency Seymour emphasises is that Standing distinguishes precariat from working class and argues for the existence of separate interests of precariat from that of working class but does not clarify what those interests are. Therefore, Standing cannot justify his argument that the precariat is a class in formation distinct from the proletariat. The most significant deficiency of Standing’s concept of precariat for this study is that his arguments are mainly based on the cleavage among workers. The Marxist conception of class as relation overcomes such categorisations within the working class. The significant point that Standing misses is the fact that relations in capitalism are based on exploitation and logic of capital. Such understanding of class rejects conceptualisation of the working class as a static category because parallel to the changes in the form of exploitation and logic of capital, class relations are transformed. Standing, however, identified the “old working class” with the industrial proletariat (as in the case of the post-Second World War period) which was a relatively more protected and stable group. Therefore, Standing defines the precariat as the real victims (Allen 2014: 48; Frase 2013: 11; Seymour 2012). However, the defining feature of the working class is being deprived of ownership of the means of production and so they are obligated to sell their labour to capitalists. According to this definition, working class is, by definition and structurally, precarious but the strength and visibility of this precariousness has increased under neoliberalism. Therefore, evaluating the precariat as a class with different interests from the proletariat strengthens intra-class divisions and ignores the significance of processes of class formation (Oğuz 2012: 243–245; Seymour 2012).

The significance of precariousness in this study is to analyse the relation between precariousness and the class formation process with reference to growing proletarianisation and a regime of precarity accompanying it. In other words, the argument is not based on, in fact rejects, formation of a precariat as a class distinct from proletariat as done by Standing, because precariousness is the key feature of today’s working class (Seymour 2012). In contrast to Standing’s argument, it is a condition experienced by the wider working class (Allen 2014: 48). In order to relate precariousness to the working class as a whole there is a need to locate precariousness in its historical context within the dynamic of capitalism, and so discuss it with reference to the historical process called precarisation (Allen 2014; Candeias 2008; Seymour 2012). As Candeias put it, precariousness shall not be considered simply as a deviation from Fordist forms of regulation experienced by some small group outside unionised workers. Instead, it is a process associated with the increasing exploitation of a transnational labour force and new forms of dispossession of social commons, social rights, and general means of reproduction to organise everyday life it has led to. This process, accordingly, resulted in a new (transnational) composition of class and class fractions. Furthermore, he specifies dimensions and levels of this process as follows (Candeias 2008: 4):

What is significant here is the fact that all different groups are experiencing this process of precarisation of labour and reproduction in diverse forms and intensity; therefore, the role of this process in developing the unity of the working class remains a question to be answered. As mentioned earlier, the relational approach to class analysis within the Marxist tradition and its argument on the mutual relationships between agent and structure (that agents are not simply reflections of structures) is significant. Candeias makes a definition of precariousness and its possible impacts on the formation of solidarity which fits the relation of determination within the relational approach to class (Candeias 2008: 6): Precariousness is not destiny; precarisation is a process wherein subjects are active in shaping its concrete forms and tendencies. “Self-arranging” in precarious social relations is a form of active subjection, which becomes clear, if we just take a look at the different strategies to cope with increasing insecurity and lack of money. We can suppose that people who experience precarisation as a common process of many develop certain forms of solidarity and collective action to cushion the consequences and work on a change in social relations. Seymour on the other hand, argues that precariousness alone cannot be the basis for political strategy but it can be part of a system of articulations unifying those affected by precariousness in a struggle against power blocs (Seymour 2012). As mentioned earlier, precariousness is experienced by a quite heterogeneous group of workers and in a variety of ways and dimensions. In addition, for an analysis of the class formation process, it is necessary to take into consideration factors leading to intra-class conflict as well. In this study, spatial segregation will be mentioned as a determinant of intra-class conflict.

Bringing in geography: role of space in the class formation process

Space is a significant factor encouraging intra-class conflict among tourism workers, and prevents the formation of an organised class movement, despite their similar experiences and the way they interpret their class position. Space has much to do with how different people can be constituted differently (Thrift & Williams 1987), and it should be pointed out here that the space referred to in this paper is that of relational space (Harvey 1973), which is just one factor among many that defines one’s social position rather than being a sole determinant of the problem. Space as such is attributed as a factor that does not produce the process, but something that is created by social/political factors. However, once created, space has a great effect on social processes. In other words, despite not being the sole determinant, space is embedded in and internal to the process (Harvey 2006: 4). Thrift and Williams (1987: 13) mention the interleaving of geography with class and argue for the impossibility of thinking about the classes in an “abstract space-less realm”. Accordingly, they argue that relations of production and reproduction do not float above places but are constituted within them. Similarly, Harvey refers to the urban process using two integrally related terms, which are accumulation and class struggle. The fact that capital is accumulated at an urban scale indicates the existence of a labour process there, which is directly related to the class character of the capitalist society. Given that the source of capitalist profit is the exploitation of labour, it is impossible to come to terms with capital accumulation and class struggle (Harvey 1978: 1–2). Harvey mentions the importance of the process of reproduction of labour power in relation to class struggle with reference to the separation of the place of work and place of residence that results from the growth of the factory system (Harvey 1978: 15). Using the term “displaced class struggle”, Harvey is referring to the “class struggle that has its origin in the workplace but that ramifies and reverberates throughout all aspects of the system of relations which capitalism establishes” (Harvey 1978: 27). Harvey’s “geographical historical materialism” (Tajbakhsh 2001: 80), therefore, is concerned with the entire landscape of capitalist industrialisation, indicating a need to integrate the overall scheme with features of social life outside the workplace. At this point, Harvey mentions the principle of community, arguing that living conditions in the community are significant in the working class struggle. As such, the principle of community can be a “springboard” for the class struggle (Harvey 1978: 29). In his later work, Rebel Cities: From the Right to the City to the Urban Revolution (2012), Harvey argues that the significance of the community has even increased parallel to the spread of temporary, insecure, itinerant and precarious labour for whom definition of the boundary between production and reproduction is ambiguous. Because these workers are not employed in the conventional, stable workplaces it becomes more critical to organise around not only work but also around the living space (Harvey 2012: 130–133). Ira Katznelson’s analysis of class formation mentioned earlier constitutes a significant contribution for the relationship between class and space. Aside from the first level, all of the levels Katznelson specifies refer to the class relations at the level of urban space, and he formulates the relationship between class and space with reference to the peculiarity of capitalism in which, different from post-feudal freedom, “workers are free from property (so work for others in exchange for wage) and free to create social lives in families and communities outside of the immediate imperatives of production” (Katznelson 1982: 41). Accordingly, the separation of work and the community is an integral part of the conflicts for Katznelson, as in the case of Harvey. Katznelson argues that the rapid growth of industrial cities led to the breakup of the cross-class household, and in this way the capitalist social control over workers’ lives diminished. On the other hand, a massive transformation in both economic and social life was experienced and resisted in the work place and in workers’ neighbourhoods in related ways. This led to a radically new form of solidarity in capitalism and in turn led to the creation of autonomous workers’ institutions, clubs, secret societies, protest groups, churches and schools, which became potential agencies for reactive struggle (Katznelson 1982: 43). On the other hand, the capitalist class has always developed counter-strategies against the socialisation of the working class. In Harvey’s words, “capitalism cannot leave the socialisation of labour to chance and reaches out to dominate the living process of workers” (Harvey 1978: 29). In order to resolve this problem, capitalists try to come up with such solutions as planned communities, isolating the working class from the urban centres, that is, centres of labour unionism in the city. That said, isolation alone was not sufficient for the capitalists, who needed also to control the everyday lives of the workers. Cox exemplifies this with the example of the destruction of taverns and the construction of churches in working class neighbourhoods. Churches in particular were seen as a way to counter the development of a working class consciousness through spiritual uplift and showing an alternative way of salvation, whereas taverns were seen as a threat that led the workers to waste their money on drink, leaving less for basic needs and provoking demands for wage increases (Cox 2002: 131).

One final point to be underlined regarding the significance of space within the class formation process is the spatiality of capital–labour relations and its impacts on class formation. As Walker (1985: 182) puts it, “employment does not only take place in space; the participants use the space as a strategic variable in the creation, destruction, destruction, and recreation of viable employment relations over time”. This is significant for class formation because “labour and capital exist only through their encounter in space and time”. This point brings another significant argument which is the local embeddedness of the labour market, and, therefore, capital/labour relations. In this sense, according to Cox (2002: 65), geography matters in two respects. First, for many, the labour market is quite local, corresponding to the urban region within which they happen to live. At this point, substituting one job for another or (for businesses) substituting one worker for another takes place within the particular area. This point defines an area in which workers are in competition with each other. The second way that geography matters is through the comings and goings into and out of these geographically defined markets. This is especially significant for the bargaining power of labour in a particular market. For example, the immigration of workers in a region reduces the power of the labour force in that regional market. This point is quite important for the labour market in the Antalya tourism region, as despite the fact that there is no shortage of labour in the Antalya tourism sector, huge numbers of workers migrate to the region from other parts of Turkey and from abroad. This diminishes dramatically the bargaining power of tourism workers in Antalya and encourages intra-class competition at local, national and international levels. Such intra-class competition leads inevitably to class conflict. As Sheppard and Barnes (1990: 253) put it, one of the most significant dimensions of intra-class conflict is the outcome of the segmentation of geographical location. On the other hand, the Antalya tourism region is a typical example of the interim use (Temel 2006: 39) of urban space, which is one of the classical principles of the market economy. The shortening of utilisation cycles forces capital into an extreme flexibilisation, diminishing both the bargaining power and solidarity of the workers. Short work cycles diminish the spatial togetherness of workers, and emerge as a barrier to the class formation process of these workers.

Details of the interviews

Within the context of this study, semi-structured in-depth interviews have been carried out with 42 tourism workers employed in at least three-starred hotels, in summer of 2012. In the selection of the sample, spatial segregation was operated with respect to three factors which are dispersion of touristic centre workers who are working, division of labour within the hotels, and the permanency of their employment. Accordingly, during the selection of sample diversity these three factors have been taken into account. To begin with, as mentioned before, there is more than one touristic centre in the city of Antalya. Therefore, interviews have been carried out considering the spatial diversity and the proportion of the number of hotels in each centre. Accordingly, during the season within which interviews were done 10 workers were employed in Kemer, 8 in Alanya, 8 in Belek, 7 in Antalya city centre, 5 in Kundu, and 4 in Side. The second factor taken into account in the selection of the sample was the diversity of departments. Accordingly, 13 workers were working in the kitchen (among which 9 were employed in cooking unit whereas 4 in stewarding), 14 were in service, 7 in housekeeping, 2 in front desk, and 3 in other departments (garden arranging, spa and technical department which can be changed by hotel administration according to urgencies). The final point of consideration for the selection of the sample has been to include a certain number of permanent employees besides the seasonal ones. Still, due to the fact that a vast majority is employed seasonally in Antalya the number of temporary workers had been limited to 8 among which 6 workers were employed as department chef or executive whereas 2 were regular personnel.

Besides, these three factors are not exclusive because they have impacts on each other. Based on the selected sample, the geographical distribution of workers among the various tourism centres of Antalya is shown in Table 1, in which it can be seen that the number of permanent workers is eight (19%), working in Belek, Side or in the Antalya city centre. The distribution of permanent workers among the centres can be explained by their specific characteristics. For example, in Belek most of the hotels are not seasonal due to the dominance of golf tourism, while in the Antalya city centre the so called “city hotels” are widespread, and are not limited to sun, sea and sand tourism.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Table 1.

Distribution of workers by tourism centres and departments.

Type of contract/touristic centre	Permanent			Total permanent worker	Seasonal						Total seasonal worker	Total
Gender/department	Belek	Side	Centre		Alanya	Belek	Kemer	Kundu	Side	Centre
Male	2	1	2	5	5	6	6	3			19	25
Other		1		1								1
Kitchen	1			1		2		2			4	5
Steward					2		2	1			5	5
Front desk							2				2	2
Food and beverage	1		2	3	3	4	2				8	12
Female		1	2	3	3		4	2	2	3	14	17
Changes								1	1		2	2
Other		1		1						1	1	2
Housekeeping			2	2	3				1	1	5	7
Kitchen							3	1			4	4
Food and beverage							1			1	2	2
Total	2	2	4	8	8	6	10	4	2	3	33	42

Seasonal workers, on the other hand, are mostly employed in Kemer and Alanya, where the dominant form of tourism is sun, sea and sand, and where the greatest number of seasonally operating hotels can be found. In order to become familiar with the field and reach workers, during the three-month period before the interviews were carried out we tried to make close connections with two trade union organisations in the sector (namely, Dev-Turizm-Is ¹ and Oleyis ² ). It became quite difficult to be in touch with Oleyis, but the executives of Dev-Turizm-Is have helped both in the process of collecting information about the field to shape the content of the interviews and that of the interviews. However, given that Dev-Turizm-Is was a newly established union with a limited number of members, interviews could not be restricted to their members. Instead, they were working as a kind of a consultative body. Some workers were in touch with the union but they could not become an official member because of their fear of losing their job. They were frequently visiting Dev-Turizm-Is regarding their problems at work and asking for advice about how to submit their complaints to public institutions such as the Antalya Regional Director of Labour. Therefore, spending time in the office of a trade union helps to familiarise with the field. Secondly, because it was quite difficult to reach tourism workers, a pilot study was made with some members of Dev-Turizm-Is and the content of the interviews were finalised according to the findings of it. First, we tried to reach workers through appointments from hotel administrations. However, either hotel administrations were reluctant to approve these interviews without letting them listen to the interviews or workers did not feel confident talking about their problems when they were reached through their directors and when the interviews were done inside their workplace. Therefore, the interviews could not be objective under such circumstances. Then, for the method of reaching the interviewed workers snowball sampling was preferred. Accordingly, first a certain number of workers were reached through Dev-Turizm-Is and through informal–personal connection. Then from each worker, especially ones reached through a union, help was requested to reach his/her co-workers. In addition, interviews were held in independent places if possible. Still 8 of the interviews were held in hotels in which department chefs of executives of the workers were unionised. Aside from that, 13 of the interviews were held in cafés or teagardens, 9 in the hotel dorms, 5 in the office of Dev-Turizm-Is, 9 in the hotel dorm where workers were living, and 2 at their homes.

Socio-spatial factors encouraging dispersion

The social factors that encourage dispersion among the respondents resulted mostly from the diversity of their socio-economic backgrounds and their relationships with their hometowns. In the interviews, the occupations of the parents/families and the hometowns of the respondents were mentioned. The main objectives in this respect were to question the existence of social mobility, and to understand the respondents’ experience of migration and the relationships with their hometowns. In this part of the paper, while referring to the class backgrounds of the workers, the point of reference is Boratav’s (2004) comprehensive analysis on class appearance in Turkey that specifies first class divisions with reference to relations of production (i.e. initial relations of distribution) then social groups based on those classes with reference to secondary relations of distribution. Accordingly, urban working class in its narrow sense is composed of blue collar workers and deskilled service workers whereas in its broader sense, a coalition of people’s classes, is composed of blue collar workers, deskilled service workers, unemployed, white collar workers, and self-employed. Rural class composition is a bit more complicated as it is based on the size of the land owned or existence of waged labour in that land, etc. Rural class backgrounds of workers in this study are either lower peasantry or agricultural workers who are defined as the economically most vulnerable groups in rural areas in Boratav’s work (Boratav 2004: 27–32). According to the findings, 19 of the workers came from urban areas, while the majority (23) were from rural backgrounds. The remaining two workers had not completed the migration process from rural to urban areas. All of the respondents had lower class backgrounds either rural or urban. Although this study does not aim to present a general profile of all tourism workers, the fact that more than one-third (15) of the workers’ families were lower peasantry is no coincidence. The closeness of touristic centres to agricultural lands, the seasonality of both sectors, and the relatively more precarious and poor conditions of the lower peasantry and agricultural workers encourages worker migration between agriculture and tourism. Among these 15 workers, 8 were employed in the agricultural sector with their families in the off season, while three workers out of five whose families are agricultural workers make a living as mobile workers, finding employment in a variety of places and sectors, depending on where they find job opportunities.

The reasons for and individual means of the migration of workers to Antalya are significant issues for this study. The workers’ means of migrating exemplify the geographical and spatial uncertainty. Among the interviewees, 16 workers had migrated to Antalya together with their families, while the rest migrated individually or migrate to Antalya for the summer season. Among them, 14 workers live in Antalya and/or the tourism centres in which they work, either in the dormitories of the hotel or with their relatives. When the season is over, they return to their hometowns or go to other cities to find work. As shown in Table 2, one-third of the workers live outside Antalya off-season, while 28 of them live in Antalya. Among those 28 workers, only eight work in tourism all the year round. This raises a critical point regarding the spatial disintegration of tourism workers. In the off season, the workers are separated from each other either due to migration to another location or as a result of them finding work in other sectors. Accordingly, the spatial co-location of tourism workers is lower than workers in other sectors, such as manufacturing.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Table 2.

Distribution of workers according to their off-season employment, either in or outside Antalya.

Work	City
	Antalya	Other than Antalya	Total
Family–agriculture	2	6	8
Uncertain	15	4	19
Does not work	1	1	2
Winter tourism	0	1	1
Student	1	2	3
Agriculture	1	0	1
Tourism	8	0	8
Total	28	14	42

Sector-specific factors

Sector-specific factors in the dispersal of workers can be divided into three categories: content of labour contracts; division of labour; and working conditions. Workers sign individual labour contracts, which is a significant manifestation of the neoliberal transformation of the labour market. The fact that workers’ contracts are prepared individually, and that the hotel administrators do not give a copy to the workers, prevents them from being analysed as part of this study. Therefore, the content of the contracts are evaluated based only on the workers’ stories. Seasonal workers sign either seasonal or fixed-term contracts, although most of the seasonal workers stated that the start and end dates of the contracts are left empty. In this way, employers can fire workers as they please to mitigate their financial risks in the event, for example, of lower numbers of tourists than expected. An interesting point related to this is that permanent workers also sign seasonal or fixed-term contracts, and in this way, employers can avoid such financial loads as indemnities. This brings uncertainties not only to the seasonal workers, but also the permanent staff. The comments of the permanent workers were quite vague related to this issue, for example, “I guess they will not fire me this year” or “I preferred this hotel because they told me that they would employ me permanently; but I don’t know what will happen at the end of the season”. Uncertainties regarding the end date of their employment prevented the duration of the season for each worker from being calculated. Another key implementation regarding the legal status of their contracts is the probation period. According to the 15th article of the Turkish Labour Law, the probation period for a worker is two months, which can be extended to four months by collective labour contracts. A two-month probationary period can be disadvantageous for workers in all sectors, but for seasonal workers, especially in the tourism sector, the drawbacks can be much greater. The busiest months for tourism are July and August in Antalya, and, as one of the workers puts it:

“Let’s say you are hired in July and discharged at the end of August. You have made me do your work! I have sacrificed two months and then I am unemployed again! The bosses are not aware of the cost of our losing four months!“

The implementation of a probationary period brings uncertainties even when it is implemented according to the legal framework. In the tourism sector, on the other hand, that legal framework is abused most of the time. For example, three workers stated that the hotels did not make their social security contributions during the probationary period. The most widely observed outcome of the seasonal nature of tourism sector employment and/or implementations such as the probationary period was the lack of any organisational commitment among the workers. They work in different hotels in almost all seasons, and often change the hotel in which they work within a season. As such, the experiences mentioned during the interviews occur in more than one hotel. As shown in Table 3, only seven (15%) of the workers had worked in one hotel, five of which were in their first season while the other two were in their second. A direct relationship can be observed between the number of years in the sector and the number of hotels they have worked; however, given the fact that they may change hotels within the season, the number of hotels may exceed the number of years they have been employed. Of the total, three workers have been working for 16–20 years and one worker has been working for more than 21 years, although none (9%) could give an exact number of the hotels in which they had worked due to the large number of these.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Table 3.

Distribution of the number of hotels of tourism workers by working year.

Number of hotels/years of work	1 year	2–5 years	6–10 years	16–20 years	21+ years	Total
One hotel	5 (100%)	2 (10%)	0 (0%)	0 (0%)	0 (0%)	7 (17%)
2–5 hotels	0 (0%)	17 (82%)	4 (67%)	0 (0%)	1 (20%)	22 (52%)
5–10 hotels	0 (0%)	2 (10%)	2 (33%)	2 (40%)	2 (40%)	8 (19%)
11+ hotels	0 (0%)	0 (0%)	0 (0%)	0 (0%)	1 (20%)	1 (2%)
Unknown	0 (0%)	0 (0%)	0 (0%)	3 (60%)	1 (20%)	4 (10%)
Total	5 (100%)	21 (100%)	6 (100%)	5 (100%)	5 (100%)	42 (100%)

The seasonal character of tourism employment, the frequency of worker circulation within and between seasons and the relatively less spatial co-location prevents workers from forming close bonds with one another. The high rates of circulation make it difficult for workers to get to know each other. For example, one of the workers hates the human relations in the tourism sector, saying: “It is possible to count the entrances and exits in tourism. Once you get used to your co-workers, either he/she goes or you go. It is quite hard to make friends”. The fact that they have little opportunity to share the same workplace for a long time is a quite significant barrier for workers, hindering their communication at work and in their everyday lives. This makes it harder for tourism workers to develop conditions of mutual trust that may lead to a collective movement.

Seasonality and the ease of termination of employment encourage competition among workers, and almost half of the respondents mentioned their discomfort at this situation. Referencing the uncertainty of the date of discharge, many of those interviewed said that in order not to be discharged early, workers would try to oust each other, and there were claims that this was a strategy of the hotel administration to prevent workers from uniting against them. Most of the workers mentioned that such competitive conditions bring about feelings of loneliness and worthlessness. For example, one worker said that he used to work as an auto mechanic in his home town, but started working in tourism after his family migrated to Antalya:

“I was loved while working in Diyarbakır. Now… Everybody follows their own interests. … I cannot trust anyone. I could trust everyone in the manufacturing sector. In the tourism sector, people betray each other in order not to lose their jobs. Nobody cares about anyone else. I feel lonely and worthless.”

The third sector-specific factor that leads to spatial dispersion is the technical division of labour in the tourism sector. The labour process and industrial relations do not have the same meaning for all wage labourers, as some groups may be more privileged than others, or hierarchical relationships may lead to intra-class divisions. Therefore, besides the relations of production, the relations in production are also a crucial issue that needs to be underlined. There is no single organisational structure in hotel administrations; however, most hotels have a similar organisational and hierarchical structure, and it can be argued that the defining characteristic of the organisational structure of hotels is a strong hierarchy. The general director is at the top of the hotel administration, with vice general directors overseeing different functional departments, below which are department managers, section managers/chiefs, unit chiefs, and, at the bottom, the workers. In this study, no distinction is made between the workers in different departments and sections, suffice it to say that among the workers, four were department managers, four were unit chiefs and the rest were workers. Among the unit chiefs, two were working as cooks and one as a steward, whereas among the department chiefs, two worked in housekeeping, one in food and beverages and one in the technical department.

Officially, there is no hierarchical difference between departments, however the comments of some of the workers indicated that in line with the quality of their tasks, certain departments had dominance over others. For example, those working in the kitchen either as a chef or as commis have the highest status, while housekeepers and stewards have the lowest. It is possible to explain the divisions between workers, in accordance with the departments in which they are employed, in Bourdieu’s terms, with cultural and symbolic capital (Bourdieu 2001: 97), and this will be clearer after giving details of the workers’ relations in production. The hierarchical organisational structure in hotel administration has clear reflections of superior–subordinate relations, and these relations have a significant spatial dimension in the sense that each worker is allowed to communicate with his/her immediate superior. For example, commis are not allowed to speak about their problems to their department chefs. This situation constitutes a spatial barrier to class formation, in that despite their similar experiences of precarisation, neither commis nor chefs can be aware of the similar position of their colleagues. According to the findings of this study, department managers or unit services experience a similar level of precariousness to the rest of the workers, and this hierarchical chain of communication prevents them from seeing their common interests. This technical division of labour results in intra-class conflict and conceals the relations of exploitation as a total process, and prevents hotel workers from uniting against the capitalists. Similarly, the acute division of labour among the departments disintegrates workers spatially, which alienates them from each other.

One final point that needs to be emphasised regarding working conditions that encourage spatial dispersion relates to shift work, which separates workers dramatically. Shift work in the tourism sector is not limited only to daily or weekly shifts. Workers do not have fixed break times, such as lunch or coffee breaks, so as not to hinder service they take breaks alternately, preventing them from spending time with each other during their working hours. Similarly, due to daily shifts, some workers may not see each other at all. Furthermore, daily and weekly shift work keeps workers separate even in their daily lives, as will be mentioned later.

Space in daily life practices

The daily life practices of tourism workers need to be mentioned with reference to two levels: on-season, and off-season. Of the workers interviewed, one-third migrated to Antalya or another tourism centre seasonally, and in the off season, either returned to their hometowns or migrated to another place. Among these 14 workers, 11 were staying in the personnel dormitories of the hotel in which they worked, while the remaining three were staying with relatives in Antalya. Among the workers living in Antalya in the off season, two workers were living in Side, three in Alanya and 25 in the Antalya city centre. The 25 living in Antalya resided in a variety of spatially dispersed neighbourhoods of the city. The relationship between the workers’ residential mode and the length of their working season is presented in Table 4, from which it can be understood that the workers staying in dormitories for the duration of the season and living outside Antalya in the off season have a relatively shorter working season than those who live in their own houses, who tend to work in the sector for more than 8 months of the year, or permanently.

OPEN IN VIEWER

Table 4.

Residential mode by length of season.

Form of residence	Length of the season (months)
	3–5	6–8	8+	Uncertain	Permanent	Total
Family home		2		4	1	7
Own home			1		2	3
Rent	3	3	1	3	5	15
Hotel dormitories	5	7	1	1		14
Relatives		1		2		3
Total	8	13	3	10	8	42

As can be seen in Table 4, the workers (even those who are resident in Antalya), are dispersed to different sectors in the off season, seeking employment in a variety of sectors. Consequently, their opportunities to communicate are quite limited during the off season. Furthermore, they rarely work at the same hotel in successive seasons, as a result of which, their spatial co-location is mostly limited to one season.

Another dynamic of their reproduction relations is their weekly free days and how they spend their time when not working. All single or male workers stated that they had to rest or sleep on their free days. For example, one of the workers stated that he was always tired due to his workload and so spent almost all of his time away from work sleeping. The married and female workers stated that they spent all their free time on housekeeping, and so had no time for rest. For two of the workers, both of who were male and married and with children, their free days are spent at other jobs. Most of the workers stated that they do not have enough time to do everything. As one of them stated:

“One day off is insufficient. I cannot decide which of the chores to do. For example, tomorrow is my day off. I have to go shopping and go to the hairdresser, but

I want to go swimming too. I also have some things to do in the state office. It is impossible to do it all in one day!”

The workers staying in the hotel dormitories stated that they took walks or went swimming at the public beaches, as sleeping in the dormitories is difficult due to the noise. This brought a financial burden for these workers, as they could not spend their free time in the dormitories due to the poor conditions, while spending time outside cost them money. One worker, who stayed in a dormitory in Kemer, stated:

“I want to go to Antalya on my off days, but the buses are too expensive, but

Kemer is also too expensive. One day I went to the centre of Kemer with my

roommate, and everywhere was too expensive. We could not drink or eat anywhere.

Our rooms are too hot, and so we cannot spend much time in there. Most of the time I

sit and do nothing in the garden of the dormitory.”

Similar to their free days, most of the workers stated that they only had time to sleep after work. The fact that their working hours are quite long and they have no fixed schedule means that their lives revolve to a great extent around work. Aside from five of the interviewees, all of the workers stated that they worked overtime, and so had an insufficient amount of free time, even to satisfy such basic human needs as eating and sleeping. Furthermore, they rarely operate to a fixed timetable, and are often notified late of a cancellation of their off days or overtime work. This prevents them from making plans for their private lives. One of the interviewees, for example, stated that “I cannot make any plans. I may arrange to meet with my girlfriend after work, but they can say ‘you have to work overtime’. I cannot say no”. Workers with husbands or wives who are also employed in the tourism sector claimed that they cannot get to see each other. As one male interviewee puts it, “a marriage of two tourism workers is based on not seeing each other”.

Such cases are clearly reflected in the relationships of the workers outside work in the form of spatial dispersion, which are quite weak, as can be understood from the findings of the case study. The factors mentioned so far, such as the frequency of circulation of staff, competition among workers, and shift work, make it difficult for workers to come together in the relations of reproduction.

It could be predicted that the workers staying in the hotel dormitories would be more integrated, but the opposite is true. All of these workers are foreign to Antalya, and so come to Antalya without any friends. Furthermore, they may not trust their co-workers, whom they know only for a short period of time. Even if they would like to spend time with their colleagues, they may not be able to as their shifts may not match. In this regard, all of the workers staying in dormitories expressed feelings of isolation and loneliness. For example, one worker stated that she could not go swimming at all during the season: “I cannot go even if I want to… Who can I go with? For example, recently, I decided to go swimming with Sermin, but she had to work overtime that day. At other times our shifts do not match, so I spend all of my time after work in my room alone”. After being kept dispersed during the season, all of the workers staying in the dormitories live outside Antalya off season, making them the least integrated group.