Abstract
There has been an explosion of interest in the idea of European Union citizenship in recent years, as a defining example of postnational cosmopolitan citizenship potentially replacing or layered on top of national citizenship. We argue this form of EU citizenship undermines industrial citizenship, which is a crucial support for social solidarity on which other types of citizenship are based. Because industrial citizenship arises from collectivities based on class identities and national institutions, it depends on the national territorial order and the social closure inherent in it. EU citizenship in its ‘postnational’ form is realized through practices of mobility, placing it in tension with bounded class-based collectivities. Though practices of working-class cosmopolitanism may give rise to a working-class consciousness, the fragmented nature of this vision impedes the development of transnational class-based collectivities. Industrial and cosmopolitan citizenship must be re-imagined together if European integration is to be democratized.
There has been much discussion in recent years on the concept of European Union (EU) citizenship, as a novel form of political membership designed to overlay national citizenship with a postnational or cosmopolitan orientation. Normative expectations of EU citizenship are often associated with a ‘European cosmopolitan project’ (Stevenson, 2011), grounded either on institutional innovation enabling direct citizen control at the supranational level (Beck and Grande, 2007), or on the development of a pan-European social space (Habermas, 2001; Rumford, 2003). The cosmopolitan visions of EU citizenship and of the European project itself have been criticized in various aspects, including those related to Europe’s colonial past and to the EU’s continued practices of bordering and othering in the present (e.g. Balibar, 2004; Hansen, 2009). We critique the cosmopolitan vision by developing the concept of ‘industrial citizenship’ – so far largely missing from the discussion of cosmopolitan European citizenship. We argue that the tensions between the openness inherent in cosmopolitanism and the national insularity/place dependence of industrial citizenship are undermining the latter, with implications for workers’ rights and industrial democracy in Europe.
All forms of modern citizenship, industrial or otherwise, are embedded in capitalism and the territorial state system. Citizenship is not a static object but rather an ongoing relational process, defining roles, hierarchies and relationships in capitalist society, and changing with changing notions of territoriality and shifting productive structures. Like other forms of national citizenship, industrial citizenship grew up as a reflection of the societies and communities it was based on, within and bounded by the territories of capitalist states. Industrial citizenship is embedded in the (power) relationship of worker to employer, relying on the creation of structural political power through class-based collectivism, and using this power to advance workers’ interests. This does not sit well with the individualized disembedded autonomy implied by the market-focused cosmopolitan post-nationalism advanced by the EU. Like industrial citizenship, cosmopolitanism holds out emancipatory promises, but unlike industrial citizenship, it is not clear how it can deliver on these promises because it does not link to a logic of power – a communitarian narrative of collective struggle and sacrifice – in the same way industrial citizenship does. While we should not discount the reality or importance of cosmopolitan citizenship in individuals’ adaptations in the developing postnational society, there remains the question of whether this new postnational society can be made to be democratic, equitable and legitimate in the absence of class-based political formations. Cosmopolitanism may facilitate, and even perhaps be a precondition for, the formation of a transnational working class, but its tension with the organizing logic of class solidarity remains problematic.
We begin with a discussion on the ways in which citizenship has developed together with territorial nation-states, and is therefore embedded in the modern state system. We show how industrial citizenship, as it is currently defined, relies on place-based notions of working-class solidarity, and national institutions, both of which are of declining relevance. Against this theoretical and historical background, we turn to the growth of European Union citizenship and the transformation forced on industrial citizenship by the implementation of free movement policies. The focus on industrial citizenship first of all offers a critique of the official formulation of free movement rights, which constitute a defining character of EU citizenship and are implemented according to an individualizing logic. We then seek to assess the potential of the ideas of working-class cosmopolitanism to help re-articulate industrial citizenship under circumstances characterized by flexibility, mobility and deterritorialization. This sheds lights on alternative ways of constructing a democratic European citizenship in contexts that are both transnational and localized.
Industrial citizenship and territoriality
Defining industrial citizenship
In this section, we describe how industrial citizenship connects to an economic and political logic of power, which allowed working-class influence in the political economies of advanced capitalist democracies in the post-WWII period, stabilizing Fordist regimes, and enabling the construction of welfare states. There is a dual role because industrial citizenship is both a status, granting rights within a defined territorially based (political) community, and a process and relationship between workers and employers. Industrial citizenship, despite the long history of the term, remains an underdeveloped concept within citizenship studies. The industrial relations discipline, on the other hand, has a highly developed notion of industrial citizenship practices in terms of expressing voice in firms, protecting rights, and defending interests (Freeman and Medoff, 1984) but rarely uses the ‘citizenship’ term. This may be because citizenship as an analytical concept is largely about the relation of individuals to states, and industrial relations has an underdeveloped theory of state. While the industrial relations literature relies on descriptive understandings of the functions of specific state institutions, theorizing how and why those institutions change over time is usually outside the scope of analysis (Hyman, 2008). Industrial relations is interested in the interests, strategies and interactions of labour market actors, such as workers, unions, and firms; industrial citizenship connects it to other disciplines, but within the discipline the concept is too pervasive to require discussion.
Citizenship as a status entails structures of inclusion and exclusion within a demarcated community. Because industrial citizenship depends on boundaries and place to demarcate solidarity, it is bound up with territorial political structures. Citizenship as practice opens the terrain for rights to those who are formally excluded, and the development of industrial citizenship can be seen in this light – as the eventual inclusion in the polity of the former more or less excluded working class. Bearing this in mind, we take a relational and processual approach to the concept of citizenship. This is to say, we see citizenship as the outcome of a process of political struggle, with its specific meaning conditioned by the configuration of political forces, and the institutional framework, and as a form of relationship between state, society and individual, reflecting not only formally established rights (and obligations), but also practices and identity. As citizenship has been redefined in the past to fit its changing context, so also it is likely in the future to change, for example, to fit the structure of the developing European polity.
Territory and the right to have rights
As T.H. Marshall’s chronology makes clear, citizenship developed hand in hand with the infrastructure of modern statehood (Marshall, 1992). Social and industrial citizenship only emerge out of national class compromises (Esping-Anderson, 1990) at a relatively late date, after the enclosure of territory. As Balibar argues (2009), boundaries form a ‘precondition’ for the emergence of modern politics, in which citizenship and democracy presuppose a territorial order clearly demarcating its inside and outside. The fundamental nature of the territorial to our social order has made it invisible to theory, prompting Brubaker (1992) to complain that the neglect of formal citizenship is due to a territorial bias in the study of the state. Furthermore, the spatial differentiation of inclusion and exclusion is not necessarily monopolized by state boundaries. In his theoretical framework of boundary-building, Stein Rokkan instructively suggests that one needs to distinguish and analyse the interactions between two types of space: the geographical space and the membership space – ‘one physical, the other social and cultural’, and there is a close link between ‘the collectivization of territories and the development of hierarchies in organizations of their defence’ (Rokkan, 1999: 104). Thus, the transition from the medieval model of overlapping authorities and loyalties to the Westphalian order in Western Europe influenced the nature of political membership. Rokkan also provides us with insights into the role of territorial boundedness and coherence in the efficient functioning of national institutions. Historically, territorialization and boundary-making were part of the process of modern-state building, with stronger territorialization favouring voice over exit being connected to a smoother development of democracy (Rokkan, 1999). In territorially bounded nation states, it was possible to lock in economic and social actors who then expressed their grievances through voice in national institutions; hence the practice of citizenship is strengthened through its connection to territory and boundaries.
Among those actors expressing grievances through voice in national institutions – and arguably in capitalist democracies foremost among them – were trade unions and employers. Unions articulated the demands of their working-class members, from the shop floor to bargaining tables and national political settlements. Industrial citizenship was practised through highly institutionalized national industrial relation systems. Nations were the contexts within which labour rights were guaranteed, establishing the boundaries within which national working classes developed, and labour market organizations defined their jurisdictions. The seminal industrial relations works of J.R. Commons (1909), for example, took the formation of national unions as the logical end point of labour movement development, and the ‘systems theory’ around which the field has been based assumes this implicitly (Heery, 2008). Even classical Marxist theory had an ambivalent relationship towards nationalism and national identities (Benner, 1988), and worker movements, including the so-called ‘internationals’, have in practice always been organized along national lines (Boswell and Stevis, 1997). When we say industrial citizenship is defined by the framework of territorial nation-states, it not only means that the model of industrial citizenship varies from country to country, which is obviously true. More importantly, it also highlights the fact that the construction of the object ‘society’ (Rose, 1996) itself is a national endeavour, which leads the national state to be reconfigured as Sozialstaat (Owens, 2013) or ‘national-social state’ (Castel, 2003). Because of their dependence on social solidarity, national industrial relations systems no longer function to guarantee industrial citizenship in the same way in the context of globalization and European integration. A shift in this territorial order has meant a disruption in the functioning of national IR systems.
The Arendtian (1976) dilemma of the ‘right to have rights’ – a dilemma derived from the claim that rights depend on the existence of a political community, which until now has been the territorially exclusive nation-state, rather than universal personhood – emerges in relation to industrial citizenship, in particular in relation to the international. It is in encounters with international arenas that rights discourse emerges most strongly in industrial relations, as in the discussion of ‘core labour standards’ in the International Labour Organization (Alstrom, 2004). This appears as a manifestation of the ‘perplexities of the Rights of Man’ (Arendt, 1976); citizenship is always subject to a test to determine what rights are available in a particular context. Even if the post-war period witnessed the achievement of an international human rights discourse and regime, in areas such as international migration, refugees and asylum seekers, legal scholars contend that the protection provided to non-citizens (typically undocumented migrants) is constrained, because international conventions and organizations are fundamentally based on the acknowledgement of the legal principle of territorial sovereignty (Fekete, 2005). Not coincidentally, refugees and asylum seekers, whose ‘right to have rights’ is questioned, are sought by employers because their dubious status as industrial citizens makes them cheap and exploitable (MacKenzie and Ford, 2007).
Power, solidarity and class consciousness
In Marshall’s (1992) classic analysis, the realization of industrial citizenship incorporates the working class into the polity, helping to resolve the problem of exclusion from effective citizenship due to poverty. Social and industrial citizenship are close conceptual cousins, as Marshall’s argumentation makes clear; understanding their development and changing meaning requires linking state formation and territoriality to the dynamics of social class and class struggle. The development of national states in which all citizens are at least in principle free and equal raises the ‘social question’ of reconciling the contradiction between egalitarian ideals of democracy and class inequality under capitalism. The various responses to the social question, which includes policies against poverty, regulations on wages and working conditions, free education, and so on, entail two simultaneous processes: the socialization of liberal economy, and the nationalization of former provisions based on membership of ‘local communities and functional associations’ (Marshall, 1992: 14). Social citizenship is thus established based on state interference with the market, concrete welfare provisions made available to the whole ‘society’, and above all nation-wide social solidarity, instituted ‘within the perspective of a reinforcement of an equation between citizenship and nationality’ (Balibar, 2004: 163). However, where social citizenship arguably reflects working-class power, industrial citizenship is the source of that power. While social citizenship consists of rights and entitlements, and is in that sense passive, industrial citizenship is about organization, processes and participation, based on class consciousness and capacities.
Inevitably, tensions emerge, both between industrial citizenship and market-based liberal notions of citizenship, and with the construction of unified national identities. Tensions with liberal citizenship occur because of liberalism’s emphasis on the importance of individual autonomy in the market sphere. Industrial citizenship begins with class-based collectivities, which deliberately seek to manipulate and undermine markets, as a source of power and means of advancing the rights of workers, opposing it to liberal notions of citizens as autonomous market actors. The concept of industrial citizenship, as Mueller-Jentsch (1991) points out, is an assertion of social control over market forces, reflecting the power and interest configurations of workers and managements within particular production processes, and articulating these structures with national state forms (Crouch, 1993). Class identity mingles with other forms of identity (Smith, 1993), interacting with other collective civil, political and social rights. However, the way in which national citizenships define who is ‘in’ and who is ‘out’ of a particular polity (Brubaker, 1992) do not necessarily match with the logic of class struggle, which defines a collective working-class ‘us’ opposed to a ruling-class ‘them’. Industrial citizenship must reconcile belonging within a particular state and society – in harmony, or at least détente, with the national ruling class – with opposition to that very same ruling class. The institutional manifestations of industrial citizenship therefore emerge in the form of national class compromises. In connecting, integrating, and empowering workers in the management of the polity, industrial citizenship is a vehicle for and an outcome of class compromise: it is an implicit acceptance of the legitimacy of the polity, and the community behind it, and rejection (or at least deferral) of revolutionary visions of social transformation. This is what C. Wright Mills (1948) meant when he called trade unions ‘managers of discontent’.
Working-class power, at its basis, depends on the capacity to strike, and the economic leverage of the strike ‘weapon’. An explanation of strike leverage is therefore in order. Strike leverage is the ability of each side in a collective negotiation to strike or to ‘take’ a strike (Walton and McKerzie, 1965). In most collective negotiations a settlement is reached with no strike taking place, because strikes are expensive for both sides. However, both sides are (usually) aware of what the likely outcome of a strike would be, and this knowledge sets the framework for discussions: the side which knows it has the disadvantage will normally concede more (Hicks, 1932). This is important because union strike leverage depends on the ability of the union to stop production; if the management can continue production during a strike, it will have less interest in offering an attractive settlement to the union. Stopping production implies having as much of the workforce out on strike as possible and on the picket line, to make it more difficult for management to bring in replacements, or to continue partial production using supervisors. The collective bargaining settlements resulting from the (usually implicit) threat of work stoppage do not just involve wages, but also many other aspects of industrial democracy: grievance procedures, work safety, equal treatment. In this respect, industrial citizenship’s effective manifestation is due to and through the power of collective action; it permits, demands and enables active worker participation in a political-economic process. The ability to conduct this collective action effectively, however, depends on defining and delimiting labour markets and arenas of competition and organizing around those, to define ‘us’ and ‘them’ in class terms, and to prevent unorganized groups of workers from entering into those labour markets.
Industrial relations systems, and thus industrial citizenship, came into existence as outcomes of national level class compromises, as ways of ‘normalizing’ strike activity, with the goal of containing it in a ‘web of rules,’ minimizing its disruptive power (Dunlop, 1958). The forms and terms of these compromises were dependent on the organization of class power and the forms this took (Wright, 2000). Thus, national labour movement structures relate back to processes of class formation in worker communities and on shop floors. Labour historians and sociologists have studied how relations in workplaces and communities build ties of solidarity among workers. Workers in the same workplace and same geographic space rely on one another at work, share social networks in community and leisure activities, and find common cultural reference points (cf. Thompson, 1963; Brody, 1993; Koo, 2001). When conflicts emerge at work, the solidaristic bonds of common working-class identity enable effective actions, particularly, as in the case of strikes, where these entail risks and economic hardships. While in any given situation, there are many factors that can come into play, in general, the more solidarity there is among a given group of workers, the more strike leverage the workers have, and the better settlement the union can expect (Walton and McKersie, 1965). ‘Solidarity’ is expressed as mutual aid, and adherence to a pattern of behaviour that corresponds to and adds to trade union strike and bargaining strategy which reflects norms (usually) arrived at through democratic centralist procedures, and is a basic power resource of the labour movement.
Workers’ solidarity is not disinterested altruism, but rather enlightened self-interest. If workers have strong solidaristic norms, their organizations are powerful. If their organizations are powerful, their material interests are well represented. Collectivism serves the economic interests of workers, which in turn shores up the organizational stability of unions. Unions serve as ‘schools of class struggle’, raising consciousness among workers that their interests are best served via collectivist ideology. Kimeldorf observes, in his study of dock unions in the United States: It is with the promise of delivering these [economic] goods that unions are born. Whether they endure, however, depends not only on how well they deliver on their economic promise, but also on the socially constructed meanings that in the course of history come to be attached to the union, its mission, and its leadership. (1988: 166)
Working-class identity is in part strategically and socially constructed, but also reflects and incorporates other identities: the community the workers live in or come from, the occupational community of the craft and/or profession, or in the case of ethicized labour markets, the ethnic group from which the workforce is drawn. Although there are (usually) some internationalist and universalist elements to working-class consciousness, these tend to be secondary. For example, as Mulinari and Neergaard (2005) observe from interviews of immigrant union activists in Sweden, many native Swedes assume that immigrants cannot be full participants in the collective historical experience of the Swedish working-class struggle. Unions have a (constrained) strategic choice about who to include and who to exclude in their collective representations (Penninx and Roosblad, 2000). Although embedded in various pre-existing sources of identity, there is also a strategic aspect to how unions go about constructing identities and ‘building solidarity’ in ways that maximize leverage, given existing political and economic opportunities. Workers are best served, in terms of industrial citizenship, by organizing into the kinds of structures best suited to giving leverage over employers. This logic is not always the same, and can even contradict, the logic of solidarity arising out of pre-existing identities, for example, it has often been the case that when immigrants enter the labour market, unions have tried to exclude them from membership, and have lost leverage as a result (Penninx and Roosblad, 2000). What this means is that communitarian supports for class formation either do not exist or are much weaker across national boundaries. Furthermore, despite the existence and importance of certain EU trade union organizations, the mobilizing structures and identities behind these are not well developed, and are insufficient to link workers into pan-EU union organizations in the same way they identify with national trade unions (L. Turner, 1996). Lacking embeddedness in a common national narrative, transnational working-class capacities remain essentially an intellectual construction rather than a lived reality (though one backed by a strong structural-economic logic (Lillie, 2006a)). Unions clearly rely more on communitarian thinking in their mobilizing strategies; even as ‘schools of class conflict’ they refer more to the specific narratives of their membership than to abstract narratives of class unity and struggle.
In the context of a global and transnational production, national working-class structures, despite their emotive power, sometimes produce relatively weak leverage, while transnational structures would produce more powerful capacities. This suggests that perhaps a working-class cosmopolitanism might be the answer, or at least one of the building blocks of, a new emancipatory working-class movement. International working-class consciousness is not embedded either in the institutions and organizations of industrial relations or in working-class community and identity. It is for this reason a weak force, despite its emotive power in certain circles. The history of labour struggles over the past decades is replete with ‘heroic defeats’ (Golden, 1997), in which workers were utterly defeated, despite strong solidarity, because management had fundamentally shifted the terms of struggle (Lillie, 2006b: 132–7). Locally based collectivism is undermined, while transnational forms of collectivism remain extremely difficult to construct. Management is able to effectively play off groups of workers in different countries against each other (Mueller and Purcell, 1992). Transnational bargaining has emerged within certain firms in some industries, for example, in large automobile multinationals. However, even in these ideal cases, constructing transnational solidarity is a constant problem, leading to chronic weakness on the union side of the bargaining relationship (Greer and Hauptmeier, 2008). Industrial citizenship has weakened since the 1960s and 1970s, along with the power of workers relative to capital generally (Fudge, 2005), and this decline is associated with the individualization of employment relations (Zetlin and Whitehouse, 2003). We will now show how the architecture of European integration, and the cosmopolitan vision associated with it, contribute to this individualization process, and thus to the decline of industrial citizenship.
Postnational citizenship in the EU
European integration is ideologically based on market ideas (Jabko, 2006); it is therefore not surprising that the implementation of European Union citizenship is primarily about building markets and enabling individuals as autonomous market actors. In the main, there is very little space for class-based politics, or recognition of the centrality of class-based politics in organizing national political systems. Until recently, the EU has shied away from interference in industrial relations, leaving them to national politics, but more recently the EU has moved towards restricting national industrial citizenship, as an obstacle to markets. In this sense, the European Union is advancing a neo-liberal notion of what Crouch et al. (2001) term ‘privatized citizenship’. This begs the question of who benefits from the underdevelopment of the European political space: capital is able to use the European political space strategically, as a way of avoiding the national level organizational power of labour (Gough, 2004).
Many conceptualizations of ‘postnational’ or ‘transnational citizenship’ have drawn on the practice of EU citizenship (e.g. Shaw, 1998; Benhabib, 2004), as it is arguably ‘the only formal constitutionalization of postnational citizenship’ (Cornelisse, 2010: 108). On the other hand, those who consider that liberal nationhood remains the central means of organizing our political life find the idea of a European postnational citizenship neither realistic nor desirable (e.g. Bellamy, 2008; Kymlicka, 2008). While issues such as the crisis of national welfare system and the democratic deficit are given high priority in the debate, neither side seems to give much account of workplace democracy by evaluating the origins and transformations of industrial citizenship. In an exceptional case, Stevenson suggests that the question of citizenship in a postnational Europe requires ‘a new politics of solidarity and difference’ where ‘“work” loses its centrality’ (2006: 489). Observing the decoupling of ‘meaningful citizenship’ from ‘stable employment’, he calls for a ‘European cosmopolitan solidarity’ in a ‘post-material’ age characterized by flexible rather than full employment (Stevenson, 2006). This stance contrasts with the traditional practice of industrial citizenship described earlier, which struggles with the dynamism and openness inherent in disembedded forms of membership such as cosmopolitan citizenship.
For most people, though, deciding that work is not central to their lives is more likely to result in starvation than emancipation. Work is also a crucial component of individual identity, and for most people determinative of that person’s position in society. From one side, work, or its absence, determines the extent to which an individual can enjoy the other prerogatives of citizenship. Pensions, unemployment insurance, the affordability of travel, all depend on the type of work one does, and on how well remunerated it is. Postnational citizenship achieved via cosmopolitanism and market norms presents an attractive option to those with the financial means to allow work to lose its centrality, or for those whose skills give them the autonomy to steer their lives where they choose. The notion that such people are the norm has been the justificatory basis for European Union mobility and labour policies. Notions of ‘flexicurity’ (Wilthagen and Tros, 2004) and self-directed boundaryless careers (Arthur and Rousseau, 1996) have come to the forefront, presenting individualized solutions to those with the courage and resources to grasp them. Yet for an ever greater number of people who have joined the global ‘precariat’, flexibility and uncertainty are disempowering rather than empowering (Standing, 2009). Conflating workers’ coping strategies with freedoms obscures the effect of changes in class power relations.
These critiques also invite us to question the presumed linkage between cosmopolitanism and mobility both in the European context and beyond. While there have been highly diverse interpretations of cosmopolitanism from different angles (Vertovec and Cohen, 2002), both cultural and political approaches involve identifying the cosmopolitan subjects who are characterized by their political attitudes, dispositional orientation or simply lifestyle. To overcome the elitist critique of cosmopolitanism, scholars have sought to diffuse the category by proposing such notions as ‘aesthetic cosmopolitanism’ (Urry, 1995). Thus, the cosmopolitan citizen, while not necessarily being a wealthy jet-setter from the privileged class, is depicted as a ‘modern person’ who conceives ‘him or herself as the consumer of other cultures and places’ (Urry, 1995: 165). The consumption of places is enabled by the condition of mobility and realized through ‘exoticism, commodification and consumer culture’ (Vertovec and Cohen, 2002: 7). Clearly, this ‘banal’ link made between mobility and cosmopolitanism is concerned more with consumption rather than production; and the consumerist cosmopolitan imagination of hypermobile individuals is inherently subject to the critique of detachment and rootlessness. As Calhoun argues, it in fact shares with traditional liberalism, a ‘thin conception’ of social life, and produces an ‘attenuated’ solidarity compared to those ‘rooted in more specific local cultures and communities’ (Calhoun, 2002: 872).
In the European Union, free movement has undoubtedly played a fundamental role both in the institutional construction and normative expectations of EU citizenship. Not only has the emergence of the EU citizenship agenda mainly taken place along the evolution of mobility rights, but also the exercise of free moment rights by European citizens is considered crucial to the construction of a European civil and political society (Recchi and Favell, 2009). However, as Ong argues, experiments with ‘spatial freedoms’ enabled by market and mobility are not necessarily associated with ‘goals of realizing the common global good’, and in this sense they do not necessarily result in ‘Enlightenment ideals of cosmopolitanism’ (2006: 230). Indeed, if we look at the experiences of mobile workers, it becomes clear that the individualizing approach to mobility as ‘market-driven autonomous action’ (Ong, 2006) adopted by the EU guarantees neither postnational worker rights (Wagner, 2014) nor postnational identities. Rather, their capacity to collectively negotiate work conditions and labour rights has become increasingly constrained, as the ‘political economy of free movement’ (Schierup et al., 2006) severs the relationship between state, territory and citizen on which industrial citizenship has been built.
Intra-EU mobility may create common class interests among the disenfranchised movers, and opportunities for cosmopolitan association between mobile workers, and serve as the catalyst which brings about a new industrial citizenship in the EU. Historically industrial citizenship has arisen as an expression of workers’ collective power, involving the development of class capacities by the workers themselves, in the form of ties of solidarity: shared symbols, networks, organizations, providing the capacity to carry on class struggle at ever higher geographic scales. In this respect, the literature on working-class cosmopolitanism does suggest possible elements of processes of proto-class formation in the EU context. Lamont and Aksartova use the term ‘ordinary cosmopolitanism’ to refer to the ‘strategies used by ordinary people to bridge boundaries with people who are different with them’ (2002: 1). They examine the different cultural resources working-class men draw on in different countries in order to build up ordinary cosmopolitan strategies. In reaction to a perceived class bias in earlier writings on cosmopolitanism, scholars convincingly demonstrate that mobile workers practise their own forms of embedded cosmopolitanism, however, these appear more as coping strategies than as a means of building collective power. Datta (2009) relates that European movers, in her case, Eastern European construction workers in London, exhibit cosmopolitan behaviour. The shifting of focus from the top-down, elitist and often state-centric approach to globalization to the ordinary or the ‘mundane cultural interaction’ (Vertovec and Cohen, 2002) is shared by the theorists of critical cosmopolitanism (Delanty, 2006; Rumford, 2008). In Delanty’s words, the cosmopolitan condition should not be equated to ‘postnational phenomena that have come into existence today as a result of globalization’ (2006: 43). It is rather ‘a culture medium of societal transformation that is based on the principle of world openness’ (2006: 27). He also points out that taking mobility as an ontological condition of current social transformation is misleading, and identities and ‘modes of cultural belonging’ cannot be reduced to mobility. Thus, we can have mobile people, who are isolated without ‘cultural belonging’ or immobile people who nonetheless are open to the world, and embedded in transnational connections. Working-class cosmopolitanism is then about transnational encounters involving both movers and stayers.
EU institutions and industrial relations
The dilemma of developing some form of transnational industrial citizenship is rooted in tensions between the socio-economic dynamics set in motion by new (or absent) EU competences and the continuing national focus of the industrial relations systems. National industrial relations systems, through which industrial citizenship is practised, co-exist in uneasy tension with the pan-European labour market. This is not only a matter of migrant adjustment and integration, or a lower propensity of migrants to join unions, but there are also substantial limitations in law and in practice to the citizenship of mobile workers in the EU, which result in systematic discrimination against, for example, members of new EU member states (Ciupijus, 2011). Unionists often blame the Eastern European workers for allowing themselves to be treated badly, because of what they see as a relatively unsolidaristic attitude, and lack of moral courage, but they also admit that to at least some extent it is completely understandable given these workers' situation (see Lillie and Sippola, 2011: 304–5, for example). Mobile construction workers express what one might consider an alternative form of industrial citizenship, using exit and individual voice (Wagner and Lillie, 2014), and through expressing pride in their work (Datta, 2009), so they might be said to have internalized the market logic of the liberal citizenship paradigm (Somers, 2001).
The EU lacks core competences to create a unified framework for the realization of industrial citizenship rights across the 27 member states, with their differing national frameworks and inheritances. Nonetheless there have been interventions, often in the form of directives, such as, for example, the European Works Councils Directive (1994), the Posted Workers Directive (1996), or the Temporary and Agency Work Directive (2008), all of which give rights to workers supplementary to those enjoyed under the national system. Some of these rights have a collectivist dimension – for example, the European Works Council Directive – but overall, this is weak. European Works Councils only exist in larger firms, and only function well in cases where unions are well established (Waddington, 2011). The majority of European workers are outside their scope. Caparaso and Tarrow (2008) argue that the EU’s establishment of rights constitutes the basis of a Polyanesque double movement. By double movement, Polyani (1944) referred to the reaction of society to contain the destructive forces of the free market. The European Court of Justice (ECJ) has supported individual ‘rights’, but the relatively narrow basis of these rights, the fact that they are not redistributive, and the market dynamics they set in motion, do more to undermine practical access to nationally-based rights than to expand pan-EU rights. As Höpner and Schäfer (2012) point out in a reaction to Caparaso and Tarrow, the overall effect of EU legislation and ECJ rulings is more Hayekian than Polyanian. For example, in protecting intra-EU mobility by allowing EU citizens to draw on social benefits in other countries, the EU actually challenges the fiscal stability of national welfare systems, because the national systems were designed on the presumption that potential beneficiaries are also contributors (i.e. taxpayers). The protection and ‘voice’ provided by EU legislation are therefore overwhelmed by the corrosive dynamic of ‘regime competition’ (Streeck, 1997). Indeed, even in a formal sense, collective labour rights have been under attack in European jurisprudence (Kilpatrick, 2009).
In particular, collective rights are constrained for posted workers who have been sent abroad by their employers. This is because their status derives from the right of their employer to free establishment and provision of services within the EU, rather than on their own rights as citizens of EU member states, and their right to collective action is less important in EU jurisprudence than their employers’ right to free movement. As is common in EU integration, support for mobility in EU law arises out of an economic logic, with workers supported in their mobility as factors of production (counterposed with mobility of capital, goods, services and establishment), though over time there has been a shift towards an individual rights-based approach, and the recognition that labour does not move independently of people. However, the formal rights regime for migration in the EU assumes that migrants always move as individuals. Increasingly, they do not. Rather, a great deal of the mobility nowadays occurs as posted work, under the freedom of movement of services, rather than of labour (Dølvik and Visser, 2010). A motive for engaging posted workers, rather than native workers or migrants who have travelled to the work site individually, is the cost advantage gained by the ability to deny access to host-society rights and employment norms – free movement rights protect the right of firms to do this. The logic of free movement and economic liberalization in the European Union leaves little room for worker collective participation which might constrain market logic. The ECJ is explicit that firms have a right to undermine labour standards through free movement, because this potential source of competitive advantage is constitutionally protected. In the Laval (Case C-341/05) decision, the ECJ concluded that: The right of trade unions of a Member State to take …. collective action [designed to raise the pay and conditions of posted workers above legal minimums] is liable to make it less attractive, or more difficult, for undertakings to provide services in the territory of the host Member State, and therefore constitutes a restriction on the freedom to provide services within the meaning of Article 49 EC.
Even more than in other issue areas, labour issues have had a strong tendency to ‘domesticization’, that is to say, in the words of Imig and Tarrow (2000: 77), ‘the mounting of claims triggered by EU decisions in national or subnational politics’. The influence of the image of the ‘Polish Plumber,’ and the politically charged Lindsey strike, in which EU sceptics in the UK rallied around the call ‘British Jobs for British Workers,’ seem to indicate a European labour movement which can occasionally show strength in domestic political debates, but is very much excluded in European ones, and is unable to do anything about it. While there have been occasional victories of co-ordinated trade union ‘euro’ campaigns, such as the Port Directive (Turnbull 2006) and the Service Directive (Gajewska, 2009), it is clear that overall the labour movement does not have a sustained influence in EU forums, and is therefore unable to act as an effective channel for industrial citizenship at the EU level. The discontinuity between the level of policy-making and the effective channels of political struggles shows that the erosion of industrial citizenship in Europe not only results from the worldwide trend of neo-liberalization, but is also significantly influenced by the Europeanization of industrial relations (Streeck, 1997). It therefore poses critical questions to those who expect a postnational, democratic EU citizenship to emerge, and forces us to rethink cosmopolitan citizenship beyond the traditionally elitist and individualistic framing.
Reinventing industrial citizenship in a post-territorial Europe?
To cope with the erosion of industrial citizenship under the impact of the transformation of work and territorial restructuring in Europe, one has to rethink Marshall’s original thesis in a fashion of ‘thinking with and against’ him. This thesis is instructive in highlighting the role of ‘a secondary system of industrial citizenship’ in mediating the various relations within the complex of democratic-welfare capitalism. But we must be cautious about the teleological and unidirectional reading of the development of citizenship rights. Marshall is mistaken, as Bryan Turner moderately comments, ‘in his treatment of citizenship as a status that has now been more or less adequately realized’ (B. Turner, 1993: 33). Political theorists have come to see citizenship less from a static perspective and more as a ‘continuously reflexive process’ but without a given route or ultimate goal ‘towards an ever-expanding and fuller system of rights’ that is necessarily more just or better than before (Bellamy, 2001: 65). The emerging field of critical citizenship studies has focused its research agenda on the dialectic between ‘constituent’ and ‘constituted’ citizenship (Balibar, 2004). However, most discussions on citizenship as an incomplete and imperfect process concentrate on the relations between struggles for recognition and redistribution and the expansion of the representative democracy in the socio-political realm. It is clear that the national society is no longer the exact container for the democratic-capitalist system, and for this reason many have seen the need to build a pan-European public sphere or forge different forms of European cosmopolitan solidarity (Habermas, 2001; Stevenson, 2006). We argue that a processual and practice-oriented perspective on citizenship in the socio-economic realm, vis-à-vis the process of deterritorialization, is equally important.
In one sense, the undermining of industrial citizenship could be an unintentional side-effect of moving important aspects of political-economic life out of the purview of national states, to a context where social control is no longer backed by national institutions and social solidarity. However, there is also a clear political vision to the construction of European citizenship, and this vision marginalizes industrial citizenship. One solution, put forward, for example, by Stevenson, is to reformulate citizenship in ways which explicitly make work less central. Stevenson promotes the notion that alternative conceptions should seek to guarantee workers’ rights and democratic participation ‘after full employment’ (Stevenson, 2006: 489). For instance, Fudge (2005) promotes the idea of ‘citizenship at work’ as an alternative to market citizenship to acknowledge and accommodate the increasing flexibility and informality of ‘work’ beyond ‘employment’. Others have sought solutions to the problem of industrial citizenship under conditions of mobility. Gordon (2007) proposes what she calls ‘transnational labour citizenship’ in the US-Mexican context less as a conceptual experiment than a practical strategy. This strategy hence involves detailed arrangements and essentially relies on the specific American experience, although she considers it applicable in any migrant-influenced (sending or receiving) country. Most notably, the applicants are required to ‘join another transnational labour organization … in the geographic area of the United Sates where they settled’, and they must take a ‘solidarity oath’ as a condition of membership (Gordon, 2007: 567). In this aspect, the model seeks to establish a communitarian citizenship based on a special mode of belonging jointly defined by nationality, mobility and working-class status, but Gordon’s model assumes rather than provides structural power resources for labour. It is not clear how transnational labour citizenship would be achieved, given the inevitable opposition of capital to such proposals.
Discussions on cosmopolitan solidarity practised by ordinary people are primarily framed in cultural terms, which is inadequate to account for the socio-economic struggles of border-crossing workers. In fact, as Skrbis and Woodward’s (2007) study shows, a broadly defined ‘disposition’ of openness towards cultural others is often counterbalanced by sentiments of ‘dilution of national culture’. There may be at least in the short term a trade-off between cosmopolitanism and solidarity, but this does not alter the fact that openness and transnational interaction must be a precondition for ‘organic’ formation of a transnational working class – in this sense, making working-class cosmopolitan citizenship a necessary precondition of European industrial citizenship. However, the individual emphasis of cosmopolitanism also does not lead logically to structural working-class power, on which European industrial citizenship can be based. To accomplish this, there would need to be a re-invention or at least a new articulation of working-class cosmopolitanism and industrial citizenship, in ways that create and link organic solidarity with the logic of political-economic power suited to the new context.
This suggests that national labour movements must break away from their traditionally nationally defined narratives and strategies and define themselves in ways that engage more with European cosmopolitanism. On the other hand, in doing this, they cannot lose sight of their class conflict-centred mobilizing narratives. There is a tension between cultural openness and the class struggle narratives, but not a fundamental contradiction. The challenge is to redefine industrial citizenship in ways that incorporate and generate cosmopolitan solidarity in order to – to borrow the phrase of Mezzadra and Neilson (2013) – turn the ‘multiplicity and heterogeneity’ of labour from an element of weakness into a source of strength.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The authors would like to thank Adam Mrozowicki, Charles Woolfson, Valeria Pulignano, Robert Mackenzie, Chris Forde, Damian Raess, Jeff Turk, Miguel Martinez Lucio, Triin Roosalu, Sam Haglund, Peo Hansen, and Claire Marzo for discussions which led to the idea behind this article. Research for this article was funded by a European Research Consortium Starting Grant, ‘Transnational Work and the Evolution of Sovereignty’, TWES #263782; by an Academy of Finland grant, ‘Industrial Citizenship and Labour Mobility in the EU: Migrant Centered Study of Estonia-Finland and Albania-Italy Labour Mobility’; and by the Danish Council for Independent Research (DFF) postdoctoral grant ‘Governing the Social through Mobility: Internal Migration and the Rescaling of Social Citizenship in the European Union and China’ (DFF–1329-00142).
