If you're looking for a work that weaves transnational history and theoretical inquiries, you've come to the right place. Jefferson Cowie revised his North Carolina dissertation into a fantastic book. Under the direction of Leon Fink, Cowie wrote a dissertation that became an intriguing work of history that is emblematic of the new methodological directions occurring in the field. Starting in Camden and wrapping up in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, RCA loaded up the family and moved to...well, certainly not Beverly, but in search of cheap, docile laborers. In each spot, however, RCA discovered that unions and workers' demands for fair treatment (ie, dignity) cut into their profits and production over the course of seventy years of boom and bust. RCA settled in Ciudad Juarez where ample labor pools of young women, pliable unions, and state sponsorship awaited their shiny, new TV factories.
Capital Moves is a book worth emulating. Cowie speaks Spanish and utilizes Spanish language materials, drew upon approximately forty interviews (in-person and via archival collections), and bridged disciplinary bounds to fashion a concise chronological narrative, all in the space of 210 pages. Rejecting the concept of labor peace between capital and unions after World War II, he reveals how RCA consistently sought to undermine solidarity and boost its profits through the pursuit of low-cost labor. In other words, the concept of a corporatist utopia is in doubt. Cowie states "most historians date the disintegration of the pact [between labor and capital] in the mid-1970s or beyond, but RCA's plant location decisions in the 1930s and 1940s suggest that management may have been significantly less committed to its end of the bargain than many analysts presume" (6). RCA moved south and, along the way, nurtured communities and a sense of culture, which is one of the author's strong contributions.
In the acknowledgments, Cowie thanks Fink for allowing him to cross disciplines in his dissertation, and historians should be grateful he did. Geographers, along with anthropologists, are producing exciting work, and Cowie hints at their ideas throughout the book and their influence is on full display in chapter seven, "The Distances in Between," where he examines the concept of community, place, space, and the influence on solidarity. In addition to Karl Marx and Pierre Bourdieu, georgraphers Gordon Clark, David Harvey, Edward Soja, Michael Storper, and Richard Walker appear as he charts what RCA's southward march meant for those along its path. Fascinating stuff, and content you won't find among most labor historians or, for that matter, historians.
I think Cowie's introduction could have benefited from a discussion of neoliberalism and its derivates. As it stands, he peppers the chapters with the term and concept without delving into any of its roots. Thus it seems divorced from the broader conversation of it as an economic policy with considerable social and cultural ramifications. One could rebut this criticism with the standard "he's writing for specialists who know this scholarly terrain." But do they? I would wager a bet that a fair proportion of historians are unfamiliar with Harvey, who is the most prominent of neoliberal scholars, or neoliberalism's manifestations. Certainly some are fluent in this matter or at least cognizant, however, I think the book could have been on stronger footing had he broached the concept at the onset.
A related criticism stems from the focus on Latin America, and this isn't a pointed criticism of Cowie per se. I don't understand labor historians' preoccupation with Latin America. Jana Lippman, Julie Greene, Cowie, Fink, Beth McKillen, and Dana Frank wrote fantastic scholarship that is a credit to their subfield. Regardless, I am stumped for an answer when I ponder the effect or intention of this geographic focus. It was once related to me that some Latin Americanists view this attention with skepticism and question if it's another example of American(ist) hegemony in academia. I'm not qualified to venture into this territory, so I'll abstain from wading into this topic.
These criticisms notwithstanding, I think Cowie wrote an impressive book that well deserved the 1999 Philip Taft Labor History Prize. Chapter seven is an intellectual contribution--along with the book as a whole--and historians could do well to tackle the issues he raises and integrate his interdisciplinary approach in future works. In other words, a sterling example of history that is readable and intellectually compelling.
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