On Tuesday September 15th, 1931, at 8.00 a.m. most of the stokers of the forenoon watch in the battleship HMS Valiant, under orders to sail from Invergordon for exercises in the North Sea, refused duty and prevented the ship from sailing. In the battleships Rodney and Nelson and the battle-cruiser Hood, all due to follow Valiant out to sea, the crews also refused to turn to. By 9.31 a.m. the admiral commanding the Atlantic Fleet had cancelled the exercises and recalled to Cromarty Firth those ships already at sea. What was to become known as the Invergordon Mutiny had begun. In reality it was a passive protest over recently announced cuts in pay. At various times in the course of the next thirty-six hours large numbers of the 12,000 men in the twelve capital ships at Invergordon joined in the action and refused orders.

In its educational work, the Liverpool Fabian Society constantly “situated” Liberalism; past reforms had done much, but contemporary Liberal aims were far too “wishy-washy” and diverse: “It is not benevolence, not charity, not a temporary dividing-up, that the world requires, but the transformation of industrial society from a system of profit into a system of co-operative production for use.” Liverpool Fabians thus saw that a focus on the entire existing system, an attack on both root and branch, was essential to the distinction between radicalism and Socialism. It is primarily in the context of education towards an understanding of this kind of distinction that this article will consider the work of two Liverpool Fabian Socialists, Joseph and Eleanor Edwards, during the Liverpool phase of their activities, from 1891 to 1901.

The Popular Front's victory in the legislative elections of April-May 1936 caused a great sense of relief and then a joyful upsurge of hope and idealism in its supporters. Spontaneously, thousands of workers began to occupy shops and factories. On June 4, when the Blum government came to office, the strikes had begun to paralyze the economy. In the next two weeks, perhaps because it was clear that the Blum government was not going to suppress the strikes but rather to negotiate an end to them, perhaps because by that time it was also clear that neither the Confédération Générale du Travail nor the Communist and Socialist parties would try to take advantage of the situation for an insurrectionary purpose, the strikes spread like wildfire throughout the country. Hundreds of thousands of workers apparently wanted to guarantee, through “direct action”, that the benefits of the Matignon accords and of the promised legislation would apply in their industry or region. It was in these conditions that the Blum government managed to get the conservative Senate's approval for the most progressive social reforms of the Third Republic.

“MIKHAIL ALEKSANDROVICH BAKUNIN is in San Francisco ”, announced the front page of Herzen's Kolokol November 1861. “HE IS FREE!Bakunin left Siberia via Japan and is on his way to England. We joyfully bring this news to all Bakunin's friends.” Arrested in Chemnitz in May 1849, Bakunin had been extradited to Russia in 1851 and, after six years in the Peter-Paul and Schlürg fortresses, condemned to perpetual banishment in Siberia. On June 17, 1861, however, he began his dramatic escape. Setting out from Irkutsk, he sailed down the Amur to Nikolaevsk, where he boarded a government vessel plying the Siberian coast. Once at sea, he transferred to an American sailing ship, the Vickery, which was trading in Japanese ports, and reached Japan on August 16th. A month later, on September 17th, he sailed from Yokohama on another American vessel, the Carrington, bound for San Francisco. He arrived four weeks later, completing, in Herzen's description, “the very longest escape in a geographical sense”.

Historians of Chartism face a dilemma. On the one hand, they are obliged to interpret this national political movement on the national level, to attempt to explain why millions of British working men and women were engaged in organized political activity over several decades. But, on the other hand, many of the richest sources on Chartism are found on the local level. Older histories of the movement treated Chartism from a national perspective, but failed to take note of many of its complexities. More recently, a good deal of local research has rigorously tested our assumptions about Chartism, but the task of carefully analyzing the movement on the national level still remains.

In common with many other countries, Australia has had, since 1920, a Communist Party, which is an obvious and continuing symbol of international reaction to the Russian Revolution of 1917. Naturally enough the formation of this Communist Party and its subsequent history has attracted a degree of attention from historians and scholars of Communist movements and Australian politics. The impact of the Profintern, on the other hand, has been completely neglected. Even at the international level no full-scale study of the Profintern and its related trade-union organisations is yet available, and though one scholar has noticed that in Australia “the history of communism in the unions is […] separate from CPA political history”, the bases of this separation have been left relatively unexplored. This article seeks to examine Moscow's links with the Australian trade-union movement via the Profintern in the period 1920–35. It would seem that these links overshadowed the CPA as a “Communist” influence in the Australian context, at least for the first decade of the Comintern's existence. The separation of CPA history from the wider influence of Communism in the unions is discernible almost from the very start.

The origins and nature of the strike movement which affected the manufacturing districts of England during the summer of 1842 have been subject to a variety of interpretations. The very use of the term “Plug Plot” suggests some sinister motivation, and certainly belief in the existence of a conspiracy became widespread as the strike proceeded. According to the Manchester Guardian

Recent research on poverty in Tudor-Stuart England has produced no surprises, no controversies. The scene has been one of quiet industriousness. Yet surely a stock-taking from time to time serves a useful purpose in any area of historical investigation. It clarifies. It offers an understanding of the current state of the question. It asks, what questions are now being posed? What interpretations are being advanced? What appears to be the most promising of the current areas of inquiry? This essay is a selective review of the fruits of recent research on the three questions which have particularly interested students of poverty in Tudor-Stuart England. Those questions are: 1) how were the poor defined?, 2) what was public policy toward them?, and 3) how did Englishmen themselves understand the problem of poverty?

Eine selbständige Gesamtdarstellung der Geschichte des kommunisti-schen Arbeiterbildungsvereins in London, des langlebigsten deutschen Auslandsvereins, ist ein Desiderat der Forschung. Diese Forschungslücke schließt der folgende Aufsatz nicht. Als Teildarstellung beschränkt er sich darauf, die Anfangs- und Konsolidierungsphase des Londoner Arbeiterbildungsvereins vornehmlich auf der Grundlage einer Auswertung bereits publizierten Quellenmaterials darzustellen; eine Ausnahme ist die Auswertung der Statuten und des Bibliotheksverzeichnisses des Arbeiterbildungsvereinsaus dem Jahre 1845–46. Diese bis in das Jahr 1847 reichende Phase wird in der Literatur zur frü Geschichte der Arbeirterbewegung zumeist skizzenuhaft im Rahmen einer Geschichte des Bundes der Gerechten / Bundes der Kommunisten behandelt.4

When men in the early nineteenth century appealed to the landed proprietors of England to accept their “paternal responsibilities”, they gave voice to the conviction that gentry behavior had special relevance for the question of social discipline. Conservatives, especially, adhered to the view that subordination and the hierarchy of ranks resting upon it constituted the fountainhead of social cohesion. But at the same time, reliance on this concept of social organization involved the governors in various commitments to their subordinates, for ultimately the cohesiveness of the social order seemed dependent upon the operation of reciprocal obligations. The place of these imperatives in rural relationships arose from, and contributed to, a tradition that saw the subsistence and well-being of the entire community to be dependent upon the social responsibilities of and the connections between the different degrees of interest within the agricultural economy. A characteristic anxiety of the conservative of the period was that the economic individualism of a rising urban and industrial society promised to undermine the social accountability of each component of the social order; this presaged the disintegration of society because the “chain of connexion” between the rich and the poor would thereby be broken. The implication was that the intrusion of self-interest, economic or otherwise, threatened a structure of interdependency and mutual respect and concern between ranks. It appeared, then, that the most serious danger to society would certainly come at that point when the landowners of England — the rulers of what still seemed an essentially rural world — abandoned their paternalist traditions and opted for indolence, indifference, or the allures of commercial farming.