Harald Bauder-Labor Movement - How Migration Regulates Labor Markets-Oxford University Press, USA (2006)

LABOR MOVEMENT
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LABOR MOVEMENT
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How Migration Regulates Labor Markets
HARALD BAUDER
1 2006
3
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Bauder, Harald, 1969–
Labor movement : how migration regulates labor markets / Harald Bauder.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN-13 978-0-19-518087-9; 978-0-19-518088-6 (pbk.)
ISBN 0-19-518087-9; 0-19-518088-7 (pbk.)
1. Alien labor. 2. Emigration and immigration—Economic aspects.
3. Labor market. I. Title.
HD6300.B38 2005
331.6'2—dc22 2005006817
The photograph on the title page, which shows migrants climbing a border fence in
Tijuana, appears with the permission of the photographer, Camilo José Vergara.
1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2
Printed in the United States of America
on acid-free paper
For Karen
This page intentionally left blank
PREFACE
The title of this book, Labor Movement, is a play on words. Although the main
theme of the book is the international mobility of workers, the link to the orga-
nization of workers also exists. For example, American workers are outcompeted
by cheaper Mexican labor, whether laborers are located in Mexico or in the
United States as criminalized “illegal” migrants. Mexican labor is trumped by
even cheaper Central American labor, and so forth. This international chain
of competition between workers extends not only into the far corners of the
world but it also exists within a country, involving international migrants and
immigrants. Without an international organization of labor, workers in dif-
ferent geographical and migratory circumstances will continue to be pitted
against each other. Before arriving at this conclusion, however, Labor Move-
ment explores the forces that divide workers along the lines of mobility, origin,
and citizenship.
Let me acknowledge right away that this book has a political agenda. I be-
lieve that critical thinking and analysis are linked closely to social, economic,
and political practice. They are also prerequisites for social transformation. The
political, however, does not hinge on substance alone but also on how substance
is presented. “Few of us think critically enough about the form of what we read
and what we write. We think of content as political. We must recognise that
form too is political” (Kaluzynska 1982: 175). In this spirit, I attempted to make
the text user-friendly and avoided the worst jargon common to writings on social
and political economic theory. Although the entertainment value of this book
may still be limited, the language and ideas should be accessible to students,
activists, and readers less familiar with labor market research, migration theory,
or European philosophers.
Being political, in my view, also entails being honest about the limitations of
research. It would be inaccurate to claim that Labor Movement presents a com-
prehensive assessment of how migration regulates labor markets. International
migration is one of many interlocking processes that govern how labor markets
operate. Social, cultural, political, and economic processes combine in such a
manner that they cannot be neatly separated from each other or conceptual-
ized as cause and effect. Even by narrowing the topic of the book to interna-
tional migration and its regulatory effect on labor markets, the complexity of
viii PREFACE
this assignment is overwhelming. The examples presented here give the reader
glimpses, not an entire picture, of the regulatory nature of migration.
Absent from this exercise is a study involving the most venerable immigrant
destination: the United States. It seems these days that ignoring the United States
in any matter requires a disclaimer; in fact, the reviewers of this book’s proposal
critiqued this omission because it supposedly excludes an American audience.
I disagree with the view that the United States must be included for a book to
be of interest to an American or international audience. The case studies I chose
are well suited to illustrate my argument; using cases in the United States would
have changed neither the central thesis nor the conclusions drawn in the book.
What the selection of my case studies instead illustrates is that ideas of interna-
tional relevance can be developed outside the context of the dominant hege-
monic power regarding academic research and publishing. This aspect of the
book, too, is political.
That said, the cover photo (of the paperback edition) may be interpreted as a
nod to the situation of American immigrants. The photo depicts the infamous
border fence separating Mexico and the United States near Tijuana. This image
speaks volumes about the subordination and humiliation of migrants and the
processes of regulation that operate as workers cross international borders. I thank
the photographer (and personal friend) Camilo José Vergara, who is noted for
his work documenting the changing urban and social landscapes of America, for
giving this book a face.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My research in Vancouver was supported by a postdoctoral fellowship from the

Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada (SSHRC) and by
a grant from the Vancouver Centre of the Metropolis Project, Research on
Immigration and Integration in the Metropolis (RIIM). Research in Berlin was
funded by the German Academic Exchange Service (DAAD) and an SSHRC
Institutional Grant. The Ontario-based study was funded by a University of
Guelph research assistantship.
At the University of British Columbia, David Ley, former director of RIIM,
was a catalyst for developing my ideas on immigration and immigrants. Dan
Hiebert, the current director of RIIM, was also extremely supportive. At the
University of Guelph, Tony Fuller, Alun Joseph, and Richard Kuhn supported
my ambitious research agenda.
I thank Consul Anil Kumar Anand, Mandakranta Bose, Chris Friesen, Ravi
Pendakur, and Lilian To for their help with my research in Vancouver. Rainer
Münz was a generous host at the Department of Demography at Humboldt
University in Berlin during a summer visit in 2002. Veysel Özcan, Andreas
Kapphan, Jetti Hahn, and Joyce Marie Mushaben were wonderful colleagues
during this visit as well. I also thank the interview respondents in both Vancouver
and Berlin who volunteered their time, expertise, and enthusiasm, but who must
remain anonymous. The book would not have been possible without the hard
labor of outstanding research assistants. Emilie Cameron, Margot Corbin, and
Carsten Foertsch offered not only their labor power but also their intellectual
might to the project.
Over the years, Michael Samers has been a critical commentator and reviewer
of my research. Nandita Sharma and Cynthia Wright are role models on linking
sound academic research with an activist agenda. Randy McLeman offered com-
petent advice on several chapters. I received valuable feedback at various stages
of the research and writing process for this book from Tanya Basok, Eric Fong,
Susan Hanson, Ken Hewitt, Alice Hovorka, Jennifer Hyndman, Engin Isin, Minelle
Mahtani, Don Mitchell, Katheryne Mitchell, Jamie Peck, Tod Rutherford, and
Margaret Walton-Roberts. My colleague Kerry Preibisch and graduate students
Karla do Carmo Caser, Sonia Di Biase, Erik Girard, Edgar Godoy, and Susanne
Klopfer provided a stimulating atmosphere through their own research.
x ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Karen Uchic read and reread the entire manuscript and helped make this
book tolerable. Marie Puddister drew the maps that illustrate the book, and
Juliane Weber enhanced some of the images. Angela Vuk helped me implement
my research agenda. At Oxford University Press I thank John Rauschenberg and
Jeremy Lewis for their support of this book project and Christine Dahlin for
guiding the book through production. Some of the material presented in indi-
vidual chapters is based on previously published journal articles. Chapter 3 is a
revised version of a paper first published as “Habitus, Rules of the Labour Mar-
ket and Employment Strategies of Immigrants in Vancouver, Canada” in Social
and Cultural Geography, vol. 6, no. 1, 2005. Chapters 3 and 4 also contain ma-
terial included in the Journal of International Migration and Integration, vol. 4,
no. 3, 2003. Chapter 5 is a modified version of the paper “‘Brain Abuse’: Or the
Devaluation of Labour in Canada” in the Blackwell journal Antipode, vol. 3, no.
4, 2003. Much of the material contained in chapter 6 is reprinted from INTER-
VENTION: Journal of Economics, vol. 2, no. 1, 2005, with kind permission from
the Marburger Institut für Wirtschafts- und Politikforschung e.V. Chapter 10
is based on the paper “Landscape and Scale in Media Representation,” published
in Cultural Geographies, vol. 12, no. 1, 2004. In the epilogue, I develop some
ideas that I first expressed in ACME, vol. 2, no. 2, 2003. All previously published
material was substantially revised in light of the overall conceptual perspective
of the book. The remaining six chapters contain previously unpublished mate-
rial. Finally, photo credits go to the Simcoe (Ontario) Reformer for the reprinted
pictures “Hot Wheels” and “Family Tradition,” and the Toronto Star for the
photograph “Gary Cooper.” Camilo José Vergara granted permission to use his
photographs on the paperback cover and on the title page.
CONTENTS
Introduction, 3
Part I—How Migration Regulates Labor Markets:

A Framework, 15
1. International Segmentation of Labor, 19
2. Capital and Distinction, 35
Part II—Immigrants in Vancouver, 53

3. Rules to Work By, 61
4. Cultural Judgments, 78
5. Institutionalized Labor Devaluation, 90
Part III—Immigrants in Berlin, 103

6. Citizenship and Legal Classification, 111
7. Devalued Germans, 124
8. Between Support and Exclusion, 138
Part IV—Offshore Labor in Ontario, 155

9. Discourse of Foreign Farmworkers, 163
10. Landscape and Scale, 175
11. Farmfare, 186
Conclusion: Labor, Migration, and Action, 199

Appendix, 205
Notes, 219
Bibliography, 237
Index, 259
LABOR MOVEMENT
INTRODUCTION
Imagine, if you will, that, on the same day, all migrants and immigrants decide
to return to their countries of origin. The Filipina nanny would pack her bags
and leave the family in Singapore whose children she has been raising. The sub-
urban couple in San Diego would be without their Mexican gardener who worked
for less than five dollars an hour. Italian farmers would find the fruit rotting on
their trees because their cheap migrant workers left the orchard. New York’s
manufacturing sector would collapse because a large portion of the workforce is
absent. Worse, Wall Street would be closed because cleaners, security guards, of-
fice staff, and taxi drivers are unavailable. Many sectors of the economy in indus-
trialized countries would come to an immediate standstill. The rest of the economy
would follow within days, if not hours. Although not your typical doomsday
scenario, this hypothetical example illustrates that our economy depends on the
labor of often “invisible” international migrants. Labor Movement pursues the
idea that the international movement of people lies at the heart of regulating
today’s economies, or more precisely, labor markets.
“If you build it, they will come,” the saying goes. Industrialized countries have
built powerful economies that depend on a disciplined labor force. They have
become a magnet for international migrants willing to satisfy this demand for
labor. However, the stream of migration to the industrialized world is relatively
unaffected by cyclical fluctuations in national labor markets. In the United States,
for example, immigration streams steadily persist, independent of the condi-
tion of the economy and whether labor is in general demand or not (Camarota
2003). Despite increasing evidence of the autonomy of immigration flows rela-
tive to market conditions, the view that economic processes produce interna-
tional migration continues to dominate public and academic debate. Critics,
however, have questioned whether migration is indeed as market-driven as the
dominating narrative suggests. Michael Piore (1979: 8), for example, states,
“Income is not the critical analytical variable” in explaining international mi-
gration patterns.
A less common view turns the conventional relationship between economic
processes and migration on its head. This view suggests that migration regulates
labor markets, not the other way around. Thirty years ago, Manuel Castells (1975:
54, original emphasis) endorsed this view when he declared that “immigrant
4 INTRODUCTION
workers do not exist because there are ‘arduous and badly paid’ jobs to be done,
but, rather, arduous and badly paid jobs exist because immigrant workers are present
or can be sent for to do them.” Although Castells’s observation is as relevant
today as ever, current public debate and academic discourse have neglected this
viewpoint. Labor Movement attempts to correct this shortcoming. The book
illustrates in a contemporary context of migration and labor market dynamics
how the presence of migrants and their vulnerability influences labor markets.
The thesis of this book does not deny that international migrants are attracted
to greater economic prosperity in the industrialized world. That immigration
flows to the United States, for example, did not recede during the economic
slowdown at the beginning of this century is attributable to the fact that “a much
higher standard of living exists [in the United States than in the immigrant-
sending countries] even during a recession” (Camarota 2003: 2). Apparently,
neither the business cycle nor labor market fluctuations in industrialized coun-
tries have a significant impact on international migration flows. In fact, the
opposite is the case: international migration regulates economies. According to
one study, the net employment growth in the United States between 2000 and
2004 took place entirely “among new immigrants,” while employment among
“native born and established immigrant workers combined decline[d] by more
than 1.3 million” (Sum et al. 2004: 16). The economies of the industrialized
world today depend on migration. Without migrant and immigrant labor, the
economies of North America and Europe would suffer or even collapse.
Although international migration has an impact on the economy as a whole,
migrants and immigrants tend to cluster in certain industries and occupations.
Many migrants are hired for low-end occupations that nonimmigrants don’t
want or for positions for which domestic workers are too expensive. Occupa-
tions in which immigrants are typically overrepresented include office clean-
ing, landscaping, food preparation services, and manual labor. In the United
States and other industrialized countries, immigrants have also registered em-
ployment gains in the manufacturing industry at a time when employment in
this sector is in decline. This distressed sector is under pressure to reduce produc-
tion costs and increase flexibility. It responds to these pressures not only by
cutting jobs, but also by replacing a share of its remaining workforce with im-
migrants. The immigrants are more vulnerable and can be paid lower wages,
and they work longer and more flexible hours than domestic workers. The ex-
ample of the manufacturing industry illustrates that international migrants
are a welcome labor force because they are cheap and flexible. In this role, how-
ever, they also have a larger impact on the labor market. They facilitate the
reduction of overall wage levels, help to lower labor standards, and assist in
introducing more flexible employment practices. International migration is
a regulatory labor market tool.
INTRODUCTION 5
High-profile thinkers have recently discussed international migration in this

light. Étienne Balibar (2000: 42) has referred to undocumented migrant work-
ers in France as “modern proletarians.” Pierre Bourdieu (2002a: 40) juxtaposes
the deliberate creation of a “global reserve army of labor” through international
neoliberal policies with the desire among the business elite for “an emigration
composed of disposable, temporary, single workers with no families and no
social protection (like the French sans papiers) ideally suited to providing the
overworked executives in the dominant economy with the cheap and largely
feminine services they need.” These scholars recognize migration as an integrated
aspect of a wider neoliberal economic regime. From this vantage point, blam-
ing international migrants for undercutting national labor standards is counter-
productive and divisive. Workers around the world—whether they migrate or
not—sit in the same boat. By participating in the labor market, they seek to
survive, raise their standard of living, and improve their welfare. Competition
between migrant and nonmigrant workers leads to the erosion of wages and labor
standards for both groups. Despite the need for unity, migrant and nonmigrant
workers in industrialized countries continue to be divided. The aim of this book
is to expose some of the mechanisms and processes that create, enforce, and
maintain this division.
Not all migration decisions and policies are economically motivated. In fact,
a significant portion of migration can be linked to sincere political and humani-
tarian intentions. Refugees, for example, are permitted to settle in a country for
political and humanitarian reasons. Other migration aims at reuniting families.
Some countries have policies to repatriate exiled populations and former emi-
grants. Although migration is not always economically motivated, the local
presence of the migrants and immigrants always has an economic effect. In fact,
the evidence presented in this book illustrates that the economic and regula-
tory effects of international migration do not always appear to be deliberate.
The seemingly unmanaged economic impact of international migration raises
the question of which mechanisms actually do regulate the labor market in the
context of migration. Existing work on the relationship between migration and
labor markets tends to neglect social and cultural dimensions of regulation.
Michael Samers (2003: 556), for example, laments that existing theories are “‘shal-
low’ insofar as they do not illuminate the social relations of power.” He clamors
for “a new theory of the political economy of immigration, rooted in a radical
post-structural and ‘postmodern’ political economy” (575). Although the con-
struction of such a comprehensive theory is beyond the scope of this book, I agree
with Samers that any new or expanded view should incorporate social and cul-
tural processes of labor market regulation. In fact, the social, cultural, and politi-
cal practices that engulf international migrants are key to understanding migrants’
labor market situation and the wider economic impact they have.
6 INTRODUCTION
Despite the importance of social, cultural, and political processes, the inter-
national migration of labor is often seen through the murky lens of inevitable
economic processes. For example, international migration is often understood
as a product of economic globalization. When Folker Fröbel and his associates
(1977) wrote about a “new international division of labor” three decades ago,
they described a new global capitalist order in which a large, flexible, and often
feminized labor pool in developing countries had attracted a rising amount of
export-oriented investment capital. The effect of this new economic order was
felt in Europe and North America, where the outmigration of capital and jobs
was associated with increasing levels of unemployment, declining wages, fiscal
constraints to state budgets, the weakening of unions, and the erosion of the
welfare state. Another effect was felt in the developing countries that were the
recipients of investment capital. Their populations were dragged into the capital-
ist system of production. People who were previously engaged in subsistence
agriculture and other forms of noncapitalist production saw their livelihoods dis-
appear and were pulled into the waged labor market. The ongoing expansion of
capitalism created a new international proletariat and “a large pool of potential
(im)migrant workers” (Sharma 1997: 16). Capital flows from industrialized to
developing countries triggered migration flows in the opposite direction. While
the economic logic of international migration presents a powerful narrative, so-
cial, cultural, and political processes are also part of the equation. Foreign invest-
ment, for example, exerted an “ideological effect” (Sassen 1988: 20) of valorizing
“Western” lifestyle and consumption patterns, making migration to North
America or Europe a viable option. Similar social, cultural, and political factors
influence where and how migrants travel and settle, how they integrate at their
destination, and what economic effects they exert at these places.
The perspective that international migration relates to economic globaliza-
tion also neglects human agency, or decision making. Agency plays a central
role in shaping migration flows and their economic impact. Obviously, inter-
national migration would not occur if individuals and families did not make
decisions to leave and settle in a new country or if immigration officers decided
to deny families entry into a country. At a macro level, restrictive policies to-
ward the international mobility of workers can be interpreted as a strategy to
maintain the international division of labor. Preventing migration spatially fixes
the global proletariat to places where labor standards are weak and where it can
be exploited more easily. Likewise, enabling migration permits this exploitable
labor force to enter the labor market of industrialized countries. The strategic
control of migration is a way of managing the geography of capital accumula-
tion.1 State policies toward international migration are not an economic inevi-
tability. Rather, they reflect the strategic decision making of political actors.
The lack of agency in important aspects of contemporary social theory has
been noted by many scholars. The discourse of globalization, for example, tends
INTRODUCTION 7
to assume a capital-centered perspective of economic processes, portraying in-

ternational migration as an inevitable economic effect. Pierre Bourdieu (2002a:
31) counters this view: “Everything in the descriptive and normative term ‘glo-
balization’ is the effect not of economic inevitability but of a conscious and
deliberate policy.” Likewise, Michael Peter Smith (2001: 12) aggressively cri-
tiques David Harvey, John Friedman, Saskia Sassen, and the members of the
so-called Los Angeles school of urban research for providing “an incomplete
social construction of globalization which privileges the functional logics of
global capital ‘from above’ while failing to address, or even acknowledge the
presence of, myriad local and transnational practices ‘from below.’” The core
of this critique is that the agency of individuals, social groups, and institutions
drive the processes we associate with globalization, international migration, and
labor market regulation.
Smith further argues that the dichotomy of “global economy” versus “local
agency” is simplistic and misleading. Rather, contemporary social practices
operate in a transnational space that encompasses global, national, and local
scales. From a geographical viewpoint, it is indeed increasingly difficult to cat-
egorize nation-states and migration patterns. World system theory once classi-
fied countries into core, periphery, and semiperiphery (Wallerstein 1974, 1979).
Recently, it became clear, however, that periphery, semiperiphery, and core do
not have simple spatial delimitations. Core and periphery exist within a single
country and even within a single metropolitan area. The proletariat “shifted
geographically . . . [in]to each society and across the entire world” (Hardt and
Negri 2000: 256). The division of labor occurs at various nested geographical
scales. Likewise, the economic impact of international labor migration is diffi-
cult to capture at one particular scale. For example, a migrant who settles in the
new country may start a local business, contribute to the national tax base, and
send the remaining profits from her business back home as remittances. Stephen
Castles (2004: 212) alludes to the multiscale nature of migration by pointing
out that immigration policies have often failed to achieve their goals because
the migration process “follows a transnational logic,” whereas migration poli-
cies “still follow a national logic.” The relationship between migration and the
labor market must therefore also be seen as embracing different scales. While
acknowledging the complex nature of this relationship, the empirical parts of
Labor Movement focus primarily on local and regional labor market outcomes
related to multiscalar processes.
Theoretical Approach
Labor Movement emphasizes the social, cultural, and institutional natures of the
link between international migration and the regulation of labor markets. My
conceptual point of entry into this perspective relates to the writings produced
8 INTRODUCTION
by Pierre Bourdieu. Some critics have described this approach as outdated. Over
the past decades, Michel Foucault seems to have emerged as the fashionable
French thinker in the North American mainstream social sciences. I do not agree
with the assessment that Bourdieu has reached his shelf life. Particularly in the
context of migration, Bourdieu’s theories of capital offer valuable insights in
the manner in which labor markets are regulated. In my view, what is missing
from the literature on labor migration is a comprehensive treatment of how
economic, social, cultural, and institutional processes interlock in the context
of social production and reproduction. Such a treatment can provide an illus-
tration of how the neoliberal project operates, penetrating virtually all aspects
of human life. By examining the relationship among economic, social, cultural,
and institutional processes, Labor Movement moves beyond existing work on
migration, some of which has assumed a Foucauldian perspective (e.g., Tyner
2004) or has focused on narrower aspects of immigrant labor markets (e.g.,
Portes and Bach 1985; Waldinger 1986, 1996).
In particular, Bourdieu’s work on different forms of capital permits viewing
labor markets as being socially, culturally, and institutionally regulated. This
view challenges human capital theory, which can be described as the dominant
or orthodox approach to labor markets. According to human capital theory,
personal income and occupation reflect a worker’s investment in education and
training. Thus, a person who invested significant amounts of time and money
in education will be able to retrieve this investment in the form of higher wages
and better-paying jobs. Newly arriving immigrants often lack important skills,
including language proficiency, and therefore tend to assume lower-paying
positions. Over time, however, many immigrants upgrade their human capital
as they improve their language skills and assimilate into the host society; they
then move upward in the labor market (Borjas 1985; Chiswick 1978). Human
capital theory has become conventional wisdom, supposedly explaining why
immigrants experience an adjustment period of several years or even genera-
tions until they perform adequately in the host economy. Contrary to human
capital theory, however, education and skills are not the best indicators of an
immigrant’s labor market prospects. Many immigrants are highly educated,
possess large amounts of experience, and speak the language fluently, yet they
work far below their qualifications. In this book I show that, in addition to
human capital, social and cultural forms of capital define migrants’ situations
in the labor market.
One of the central tenets of this book is that the labor market situation of
international migrants relates to processes of social, cultural, and institutional
distinction. For example, not all immigrants who possess the skill and experi-
ence to safely perform medical surgery are allowed to do so. The medical pro-
fession is institutionally regulated, and only people who possess the proper
INTRODUCTION 9
institutional authority are permitted to practice surgery. Immigrant doctors who

possessed this authority in their country of origin often cannot obtain permis-
sion to practice when they cross international borders and settle in a new coun-
try. In this case, institutional authority, not human capital, defines the labor
market situation of international migrants. This institutional authority is be-
stowed outside of the labor market, by the educational system, the legal system,
and professional associations. Similarly, social and cultural processes that
occur outside of the labor market influence the employment circumstances of
migrants and immigrants. This approach follows a tradition of research that sees
labor markets as socially regulated (Peck 1996). The adjustment period experi-
enced by immigrants is thus not a natural event of acclimatization but a socially
controlled process of differentiation.
The term “integration” is commonly used in the debates on immigration and
settlement, particularly as it pertains to the labor market. There is no consensus,
however, on what the term actually means. Integration sometimes stands for the
recognition of diversity and difference. More often, the term implies conformity
and assimilation to the resident population. For example, Canada, which is one
of the countries in which empirical studies were undertaken, sees itself as a global
role model regarding multiculturalism, tolerance toward newcomers, and com-
passionate immigration practices, but the notion of integration there remains
ambiguous. According to one prominent commentator, the public and academic
“discourse of integration clearly upholds the normative expectation of confor-
mity as the desirable outcome of immigrant integration” (Li 2003: 2). Similarly,
among both conservative and progressive political circles in Germany, the other
country in which a case study took place, the term integration embodies an “au-
thoritarian ideology” that requires immigrants to assume the identity and behav-
ior of an imagined German culture (Treibel 1999: 57–58).
Rather than applying integration as a normative concept, I adopt a more
functional use of the term. Migrants and immigrants integrate when they per-
form distinct roles in society and in the labor market. In the context of immigra-
tion, labor market integration does not necessarily imply that immigrants are paid
equally or have equal access to occupational opportunity as nonimmigrants.
Rather, integration means that immigrants have a distinct economic function that
is vital for local, national, and international economies to operate. For example,
when immigrants work in low-wage manual labor, personal services, and jani-
torial occupations, they perform subordinate but important work. Even unem-
ployed immigrant workers could be considered integrated into the labor force
because they affect labor supply and thus wage structure and other labor con-
ditions. Although marginalized and unemployed immigrants may be integrated
into the labor market in this sense, they are usually not on an equal footing with
nonmigrant workers. The integration of immigrants means that economies
10 INTRODUCTION
depend on them. Disrupting the international migration process would disturb

the economic process much as removing a card would risk the collapse of the
entire house of cards.
Culture and representation are two other concepts that weave through the
subsequent chapters. Cultural interpretations have gained prominence in the
social sciences over the past decade. My own discipline, geography, undertook
the cultural turn in the 1990s. This turn was associated with heightened atten-
tion to issues of representation, the creation of meaning, and the discursive
production of society. The notion of culture, however, is notoriously difficult
to define. The entry in Raymond Williams’s book Keywords: A Vocabulary of
Culture and Society (1983: 87–93) reminds us that the term is constantly re-
thought and reinvented. Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer (Adorno 1977;
Horkheimer and Adorno 1947) conceptualized culture as a structural element
of capitalism. They saw it as a seductive process that lures modern society into
delusionary consumption, similar to the singing of the Sirens that drove ancient
sailors to ruin. The idea that culture is an integral part of capitalism is useful for
labor market research in the context of migration. In this context, I assume
Bourdieu’s perspective of culture as a system of signification. This perspective
permits me to link the creation and perpetuation of symbolic meaning and the
cultural representation of migrants to the production and reproduction of so-
cial and economic order. My empirical research unveils the involvement of
cultural processes in shaping the labor market roles of international migrants.
Race is usually a prominent analytical category in regard to the labor market
integration of international migrants. My neglect of this category is not acci-
dental. In my view, cultural processes of distinction present an overarching
mechanism of social exclusion beyond the particularities of racism. Cultural
processes can strategically valorize or devalue a variety of physical, social, and
institutional attributes, including skin color. I am not suggesting that race and
racialization do not occur. Race is, in fact, a powerful mechanism of exclusion
and subordination. However, my empirical investigation examines how wider
cultural practices toward immigrants regulate labor markets. Thus, I offer not
a critique of or even a challenge to the race discourse but a comprehensive per-
spective of processes of distinction and exclusion in the context of migration.
For example, social processes of distinction affect international migrants in the
labor market through legal categories such as citizenship, through institutional
mechanisms, including the nonrecognition of foreign credentials, through the
interpretation of corporeal signs such as dress and speech, and through habitual
practices, including job interviewing techniques. Focusing exclusively on race
would present a narrow view of the relationship between international migra-
tion and labor markets. In addition, at a time when blatant racism is politically
unacceptable, other politically correct mechanisms of distinction may act as a
front for processes that create and reproduce social and economic inequalities.
INTRODUCTION 11
We live in a world where a neoliberal economic system penetrates at an in-

creasing pace the most remote regions of the globe and almost every aspect of
our lives. In this book, I suggest that overarching social, cultural, and institu-
tional processes shape how economies operate. This position does not imply
that labor markets operate in the same manner in different places. Few scholars
would deny that labor markets are socially, politically, or geographically con-
tingent. However, there are some fundamental aspects of human behavior that
are incorporated in different ways into the manner in which labor markets
operate.2 Our understanding of how migrants and immigrants integrate into
labor markets will inevitably guide us toward these fundamental aspects of
human behavior. For example, various forms of the quest for distinction can be
observed in different social or geographical contexts, penetrating labor markets
in contingent ways. Yet, the quest itself is a common aspect that shapes the
relationship between economies and migration. Such commonalities form the
basis of my approach of using case studies from different continents, in rural
and urban contexts, and studying different social groups and of assembling the
evidence from these studies into a coherent argument of how immigration regu-
lates labor markets.
Empirical Approach
The empirical parts of the book feature three local case studies. These case studies
were conducted in Canada and Germany and involve research on permanent
immigrants and temporary migrants. Canada and Germany present two inter-
esting cases for the empirical investigation because they have endorsed rather
different philosophies regarding international migration. Canada has a long
history of immigration, and it sees itself as a world leader in respect to progres-
sive immigration and multiculturalism policies. Germany also has a history of
immigration, but unlike Canada, it only recently and reluctantly acknowledged
being an immigration country. A large share of the German population still sees
Germany as a country inhabited by its indigenous population, as illustrated by
the fact that Germany’s first immigration law only took effect in January 2005.3
Despite these differences, international migration is a major force in regulating
the labor markets of both countries.
Two cases studies examine the local labor markets of Berlin, Germany, and
Vancouver, Canada. Both cities are important immigrant gateways in the con-
text of the two countries. However, the origin of migration flows and the social
and legal circumstances of settlement vary between the cities. In addition, the states
of the labor markets differ considerably. Vancouver is a booming economic cen-
ter, but Berlin has suffered economically, especially since German reunification.
The third case study focuses on rural southern Ontario, a major destination of
seasonal foreign labor migration to Canada. Although the differences among the
12 INTRODUCTION
case study areas was of key interest in choosing them, my aim is not to directly
compare national and urban-rural migration effects on the local labor markets.
Rather, I use the three case studies as complementary evidence of how and
through which mechanisms international migration regulates labor markets.
A major theme of the book is that migrants and immigrants are a vulnerable
labor force and that this vulnerability is the key to understanding how migra-
tion regulates labor markets. Some mechanisms of regulation are more relevant
in Vancouver than in Berlin; others can be observed in the context of rural sea-
sonal migration but not in relation to permanent urban immigration. However,
the three case studies have in common that they examine the processes that
render migrants and immigrants vulnerable and powerless, allowing these work-
ers to be more exploited than other workers. For example, in Vancouver, cul-
tural processes appear to be pivotal in marginalizing immigrants in the labor
market, whereas legal categories are more important in Berlin. The combina-
tion of the three studies enables me to construct a strong argument of interna-
tional relevance of how labor markets are regulated through the subordination
of migrants. The reader should see the individual case studies and chapters as
puzzle pieces that can be arranged to reveal a bigger picture of regulation.
In addition to geographical differences, the case studies vary in their empiri-
cal method. The Vancouver and Berlin studies are rather similar, in that I se-
lected two immigrant groups for local comparison and conducted an interview
survey. This similarity relates to my initial intention to conduct a direct com-
parison between the two cities. However, as fieldwork progressed, I realized that
the fundamental differences between the two cities’ economic, social, legal, and
political circumstances made a direct comparison unfeasible. I became more
interested in how the relationship between international migration and labor
markets operates in a different manner in different places. The third case study
in rural Ontario therefore aimed at presenting yet another perspective on this
relationship. I chose to examine seasonal labor migration in a rural context and
deployed a different method, newspaper content analysis, to investigate the
relevance of public migration discourse. I do not claim that the puzzle is com-
plete based on these three case studies. However, although blank places remain
in the picture, an image emerges that outlines the nature of the mechanisms
connecting international migration and labor market outcomes.
The remaining blank spaces in the picture derive from the relatively narrow
scope of the case studies. For example, I did not examine the massive flow of
labor migration to oil-producing countries on the Arabian Peninsula. In addi-
tion, gaps in the overall picture are produced by the limitations of the studies
themselves. Migration flows, government policies, and public debates on mi-
gration are dynamic processes, and the empirical observations are temporally
contingent. For example, between the time I conducted the empirical study in
Berlin and the time this manuscript was completed, significant changes occurred
INTRODUCTION 13
in the public discourse on migration in Germany. Further, during the period in

which the publisher prepares the manuscript for printing, a new immigration
law takes effect. When the first copy is sold, the new immigration law will likely
have reshaped the connection between migration and the economy. Thus, the
pieces of the puzzle that emerge from the empirical studies must be placed in
the context of a continuously evolving picture.
Outline of the Book

The book is organized into four parts. Each part contains an introduction pro-
viding the context for the substantive chapters that follow. Part I sets the theo-
retical context of how migration links to labor markets. Chapter 1 introduces
the notion of the international segmentation of labor and discusses the impor-
tance of citizenship and cultural representation in the segmentation process.
Chapter 2 presents Bourdieu’s ideas of capital and distinction and examines how
various forms of capital relate to the roles immigrants assume in the labor mar-
ket. This theoretical part of the book is followed by three empirical parts. Each
deals with a separate case study and contains an introduction to the study, fol-
lowed by three chapters. Part II is devoted to immigration in Vancouver. The
individual chapters in this part explore the function of habitus and various forms
of cultural capital in allocating and subordinating immigrants to the local labor
market. Part III deals with the case study conducted in Berlin. After an intro-
duction to Berlin and the context of the case study, individual chapters exam-
ine how legal mechanisms associated with citizenship classify workers, how
institutional processes distinguish between immigrants and nonmigrants, and
how social capital shapes labor market outcomes through social networks and
ethnic economies. Part IV presents the case study of offshore labor in Ontario.
The introduction to this part provides background information on this particu-
lar labor migration program and the relevance of media representation. The
three chapters that follow examine how the public discourse of foreign farm labor
legitimates this labor migration regime through the strategic representation of
migrant workers, their workplaces, their relation to the nonmigrant commu-
nity, and the families they leave behind. Finally, in the conclusion I expand the
discussion to potential avenues for action.
PART I
HOW MIGRATION REGULATES LABOR MARKETS:
A FRAMEWORK
Labor Market Regulation
“Mass migrations have become necessary for production,” say Michael

Hardt and Antonio Negri in their book Empire (2000: 398). Other research-
ers concur that international migration is a “structural necessity” for
economies (Cohen 1987: 135; Basok 2002). According to these scholars,
international migration is a critical element of the regulation of labor
markets. This view should not imply that migration occurs only in the
interest of capital accumulation. Rather, the motivations of migrants and
other actors involved in the migration process are complex, encompassing
other dimensions besides production. Nor should this view imply that
nation-states are able to produce a precisely calculated economic effect by
managing migration flows. Rather, migration policies tend to follow a trial-
and-error approach, evolving in a manner that benefits capital and produc-
tion. Despite the complexity and ambiguity of migration and settlement
processes, it is undeniable that international migration influences the
manner in which economies and labor markets operate. Exploring the
nature of this influence is the objective of this part of the book.
To begin our exploration, we must recognize that the relationship
between migration and labor markets is recursive. It is not a one-way
street, where migration regulates labor markets and labor markets do not
influence migration patterns. Rather, migration and labor markets affect
each other: migration flows regulate labor markets, and labor markets
shape migration flows. For example, a family may respond to regional
variations in labor market conditions and seek to improve their economic
prospects by leaving their home and settling in another country. With this
move, however, the family also withdraws its labor power—and the
associated skills, experience, wage expectations, and so forth—from the
16 HOW MIGRATION REGULATES LABOR MARKETS
labor market at the place of origin and offers it in the place of settlement. In
this case, the family’s move influences labor supply at both origin and
destination. If the migrant family opens a business and employs other
workers, it influences the local demand for labor. Although this simple
example illustrates how migration and labor markets are recursively related,
it does not convey the complexity of the regulatory processes related to
migration.
The so-called regulation school can provide an entry point into a
discussion on how international migration regulates labor markets. The
proponents of this school tend to assume a macrolevel perspective of how
economies operate. They have examined how political, institutional, and
social processes produce periods and regions of economic stability but
eventually drive an economy into crisis. Rather than investigating the
functioning of entire economies, my aim is more modest and focused on
the particular role of international migration in regulating only a portion of
the economy: the labor market. Although narrower in focus, the labor
market still marks a vast terrain of interlocking social, political, and eco-
nomic processes. Within this terrain, the regulation school can offer some
insights into how social, political, and economic processes relate to each
other. Robert Boyer (1990: 42) speaks of “intuitively internalized” prin-
ciples of accumulation that perpetuate a prevailing mode of economic
regulation. These intuitively internalized principles guide the behavior of
individuals and groups and thereby regulate the economy as a whole. For
Boyer, a central question is how individual “agents and groups manage
collectively to adjust their decisions on a day-to-day basis, knowing only the
constraints they face locally and not the ‘immanent laws’ governing the
whole economy” (43). Grasping the behavior and motivations for behavior
among individuals, social groups, and institutions is thus key to understand-
ing the regulation of labor markets. Social theories, which consider indi-
vidual and collective behavior, can offer insightful perspectives on the
regulation of economies in general and labor markets in particular.
Adopting the perspective presented by the regulation school entails
rejecting the notion that labor is a pure commodity and the myth that labor
markets self-regulate through the wage mechanism. Drawing on Karl Marx,
Alfred Marshall, Karl Polanyi, and others, Jamie Peck (1996) reveals how labor
markets are socially regulated. Peck shows that social practices and institu-
tions, including the state, connect people to the labor market, assign workers
to occupations, manage labor at the workplace, and create the conditions for
the reproduction of labor.1 Social processes and institutions regulate labor
markets, not as a mere fine-tuning exercise to an otherwise self-regulating
market but in a fundamental and constitutive manner. Social processes and
institutions are “an integral part of the labor market itself” (100).
H OIW
N TM
ERI GNRAATTI IOONNA LR ESGE U
G LMAETNETS A LTAI O
BON R OMF ALRAKBEOT RS 17
Several scholars remind us of the fallacy of separating work and nonwork

into distinct analytical categories and emphasize that social reproduction is
as much a part of capitalism as economic production (Katz 2001; K. Mitchell
et al. 2003; Sassen 2000). Yet, contemporary discourses of globalization,
economic development, and international migration have favored the realm
of production and neglected the social practices that are fundamental to the
continuation and renewal of capitalism. Moreover, the migration process
should not be strictly separated into the migration of labor and the migra-
tion of people. We cannot pretend that the two are separate. Likewise,
migrants and immigrants affect local labor markets not only in their capacity
to labor but also as members of local communities and their capacity to
shape local identities. The linkages between production and social repro-
duction are complex. This complexity is reflected in the impact of migration
on labor markets, which is exercised through formal institutions, including
state agencies, nongovernmental organizations, and other regulatory bodies,
as well as through informal social practices and cultural conventions.
Critics of this perspective may allege that international migration serves
not to regulate but to deregulate labor markets. When assuming a purely
economic viewpoint, this statement may be valid. International migrants
often work under less stringent employment contracts and more lenient
working conditions than nonmigrants. However, when considering the
social character of labor, the effect of international migration can be
interpreted as the reregulation rather than deregulation of labor markets.
As traditional formal mechanisms to manage labor markets are increasingly
dismantled in light of international labor migration, social and cultural
mechanisms of regulation fill the emerging void. The international mobility
of workers facilitates the regulation of labor markets in new ways.
The manner in which this reregulation of labor markets occurs is inher-
ently geographical. Economic geographers have long acknowledged that
regulatory process and the mix of regulatory institutions are spatially contin-
gent (e.g., Massey 1984). Likewise, the incorporation of migrant labor into
labor markets occurs differently in different places. Thus, the inmigration (and
outmigration) of people has variable labor market effects in New York, Los
Angeles, and Singapore, or Berlin, Vancouver, and rural Ontario.
My aim in part I of this book is to sketch out the conceptual relationship
between migration and labor market regulation and set the stage for the
subsequent empirical parts of the book. The first chapter presents the
broader relationship between migration and labor markets. Chapter 2
draws on Pierre Bourdieu’s ideas of capital to develop a set of tools to
empirically examine social and institutional processes that link international
migration and local labor markets.
◆ 1
INTERNATIONAL SEGMENTATION OF LABOR
The relationship between migration and labor markets can be approached from
different conceptual and philosophical angles. In this chapter, I draw on labor
market segmentation theory to examine how the international mobility of work-
ers interlinks with the international segmentation of labor. In addition, I high-
light two aspects of this relationship that have been sidelined in the existing
literature but that are important to understanding how this relationship works.
The first aspect is the notion of citizenship. Although this notion has received
considerable attention in the social sciences in recent years, it has been neglected
as a driving force of the segmentation of labor. The second aspect is the cultural
representation of migrating populations and workers, which contributes vitally
to the regulation of labor markets.
The structure of this chapter follows the intention to convey a particular
theoretical perspective and to highlight particular aspects of this perspective.
First, I present segmentation theory as an entry point into a discussion of the
relationship between international migration and labor market regulation. Sec-
ond, I introduce the notion of citizenship to this discussion. Third, I present
cultural representations as critical components in the international segmenta-
tion of labor markets.
Migration and Segmentation

To explain labor market segmentation theory one may begin with Karl Marx. Marx
([1867] 2001) called labor “variable capital” and the means of production “con-
stant capital.” Labor is variable because workers can be hired and fired in response
to business and seasonal cycles. The means of production, on the other hand, are
constant because they constitute a fixed investment and stay idle in periods of
economic slowdown. Segmentation theory begins with the premise that the idle-
ness of machinery and other fixed investments can be prevented or reduced by
dividing production into two distinct segments. The primary segment is capital-
intensive; high levels of technology ensure the efficient use of the workforce. In
times of economic contraction, this primary sector keeps operating to satisfy
the basic demand that still exists for products. The secondary segment, on the
other hand, is labor-intensive, with only minimal investments in machinery and
technology. During a cyclical slowdown of the economy, workers in this second-
ary segment are laid off. Because technology investments in the secondary seg-
ment are relatively small, the entrepreneur’s loss associated with idling
infrastructure is minimal. Marx was keenly aware of this strategy on the side of
capitalists and referred to workers in the unstable employment sector as a “re-
serve army” of labor. The existence of these expendable workers in the secondary
labor market absorbs cyclical and seasonal business fluctuations and therefore
secures the jobs of workers in the primary sector.
Michael Piore (1979: 35–43) links segmentation to labor migration. He ob-
serves that migrants are recruits in the labor reserve army. The flow of migrants
into the cyclical, secondary segment of the labor market helps secure the jobs
of nonmigrants in the primary sector. Thus, migration enables the nonmigrant
population to escape being used as expendable labor in the secondary labor
market. The use of migrants as secondary labor indeed provides “a reason why
[nonmigrant] workers, as well as their employers, might have an interest in the
continuation of the migration process” (41). This perspective on labor market
segmentation draws attention to the regulatory nature of migration. Migration
stabilizes the labor market for nonmigrants.
The traditional approach to labor market segmentation theory divides the
labor market into primary and secondary segments (Gordon et al. 1982; Reich
et al. 1973). This dual segmentation approach is limited in describing the ac-
tual labor market situation of migrant and immigrant workers. Neither primary
nor secondary labor market segments are as homogeneous as dual segmenta-
tion theory implies. Among the jobs in the secondary labor market segment, an
enormous range of wages, working conditions, and opportunities for upward
mobility exists. Furthermore, migrant and immigrant workers are not spread
evenly across the occupations of the secondary labor market. Rather, they tend
to cluster in particular occupations, such as harvesting, personal services, and
manual labor, and in niche branches, including the construction and garment
industries. However, the employment of migrant and immigrant workers in
these occupations at or near minimum wage, in unstable jobs and without the
proper enforcement of labor standards, generates spillover effects, which lower
wages and labor standards across other occupations in the secondary segment
of the labor markets. International migrants’ occupational and industrial niches
constitute important junctions for the regulation of the secondary segment of
the labor market and thus the labor market as a whole.
INTERNATIONAL SEGMENTATION OF LABOR 21
The use of migrants as secondary labor helps explain the cyclical demand
for migration and immigration. Demand exists until the cyclical and seasonal
jobs in the secondary labor market are filled; demand declines in periods of
economic slowdown. For example, Germany’s guest worker program aimed to
fill labor shortages in the secondary labor market during the post–WWII re-
covery period and recruited millions of international migrants from southern
Europe, the Balkans, and Turkey. On the eve of the recession following the oil
crisis of 1973, 2.6 million guest workers were employed in West Germany. With
the emergence of the recession, the recruitment of international migrants ended.
Likewise, Austria and Switzerland had bilateral guest worker programs in place
during the postwar reconstruction boom. In 1973, the number of foreign work-
ers in Austria was 227,000 and roughly 1 million in Switzerland. France and the
Netherlands had similar foreign labor recruitment programs. The recruitment
to these countries stopped with the decline of economic growth rates in light
of the oil crisis, when foreign workers were no longer needed in the secondary
labor market.1
The segmentation of the labor market has also been interpreted as a divide-
and-conquer strategy and an effort of capital to undermine the unity of labor,
increase the competition between workers, and erode the welfare state (Castells
1975; Reich et al. 1973). From such a perspective, immigration policies, tem-
porary-labor migration programs, and the recruitment of international migrants
into the secondary labor market segment can be perceived as divisive strategies,
driving a wedge between the unity of workers. The split in the workforce is wid-
ened further as migrant and nonmigrant workers are pitted against each other.
In particular, the unequal treatment of these two groups enforces this division.
Migrant and immigrant workers are often denied basic social and economic
rights that nonmigrants enjoy. For example, temporary foreign workers are
routinely ineligible for unemployment and welfare benefits, even if they con-
tribute to these programs; undocumented workers are denied even more basic
rights and services, such as education and medical care (Heer 1996). The denial
of basic rights and privileges makes international migrants more vulnerable,
more flexible, and supposedly more competitive than nonmigrant workers.
Migrant workers who leave their families behind in their origin countries tend
to be a particularly attractive labor force for employment in the secondary labor
market segment. They are more flexible and less constrained by social respon-
sibilities than the average nonmigrant worker. They may be more likely to work
overtime on short notice because their absentee families do not demand their
presence at the dinner table or on weekends. In addition, these workers often
respond to low wages by trying to work more rather than less. Many temporary
migrants are “target earners,” aiming to earn a certain amount of money while
they are abroad. If wages are lower than workers expected, they stay longer and/
or work longer hours to meet their targets (Piore 1979: 95–98). The perverse
effect of target earning is that the supply of labor increases with declining wages,
perpetuating a downward spiral toward lower wages.
Migrant and immigrant workers are valuable because they are vulnerable.
The degree of exploitation experienced by many migrant workers would not be
tolerated by most nonmigrant workers. Migrants face numerous constraints that
render them particularly vulnerable and complacent with their subordinate labor
market situation, relative to nonmigrants. These constraints range from language
barriers and unfamiliarity with labor market conventions to ineligibility for
unemployment benefits and the denial of labor rights. In addition, many tem-
porary migrant workers are bonded to particular jobs and employers. For ex-
ample, the workers recruited under the American H-2 visa program and
Canada’s Non-Immigration Employment Authorization Program2 are not free
to quit their employment or change their employers. Many international mi-
grants are effectively unfree labor (Basok 2002; Cohen 1987; Miles 1987;
Satzewich 1991). Their inability to switch employers and seek work elsewhere
leaves employers “under no pressure to improve working conditions or pay rates
in order to maintain their workforce” (Sharma 1997: 19). Drawing on Rosa
Luxemburg (1964), migration scholars have noted that the use of unfree mi-
grant labor should not be interpreted as a retreat to a precapitalist mode of pro-
duction but as an effective accumulation strategy within capitalism (Cohen 1987;
Sharma 1997). Unfree labor provides a low-cost, disciplined, and flexible for-
eign workforce in the secondary labor market. According to Robin Cohen (1987:
26), the incorporation of unfree labor into capitalist production lies at “the heart
of an economic theory of migration.”
In some cases, foreign recruitment programs cater to the seasonal needs of
particular industries and supply the corresponding foreign workforce. Agricul-
ture, for example, requires a large pool of seasonal manual labor for the fruit
and vegetable harvest. In the United States, hundreds of thousands of foreign
seasonal workers were annually supplied by the Mexican Labor Program, bet-
ter known as the bracero program, which operated between 1942 and 1964.3 The
program was initially established during the Second World War to alleviate the
labor shortage created by the recruitment of agricultural workers into the armed
forces. After the soldiers returned, however, the practice of hiring foreign labor
into seasonal employment continued. Today, the continuation of this practice
is enabled through H-2A visa regulation. A similar program in Canada, the
Commonwealth Caribbean and Mexican Seasonal Agricultural Workers Pro-
gram, provides Canadian fruit and vegetable growers with a seasonal flow of
foreign workers who are not permitted to settle permanently in Canada. Like-
wise, the agricultural sectors of many European countries, including Spain, Italy,
and Germany, rely heavily on foreign migrants.
As I mentioned earlier, the circumstances under which international migra-

tion occurs tend to undermine the unity of labor and have taken their toll on
local and national labor markets. The effect of destructive competition between
migrant and nonmigrant labor is apparent in immigrant gateway cities like New
York and Los Angeles. In these cities, the labor market has experienced massive
polarization over the past decades. The middle segment of the labor market,
consisting of well-paying, unionized manufacturing jobs, has declined in these
cities, pushing the former workers in this segment into the secondary labor
market segment, where they compete with migrant and immigrant workers in
a race to the bottom (Sassen 1991, 1994). An additional layer of competition is
created between workers in the formal economy and workers in the informal
economy, whereby international migrants tend to cluster in the informal
economy and nonmigrants are more likely to work in the formal economy. An
example of the effect of destructive competition between workers in the formal
and informal economies exists in France, where the employment of undocu-
mented immigrant workers has declined because nonmigrants made conces-
sions to their own wages and labor standards, thus becoming more flexible
workers (Samers 2003: 571, referring to Iskander 2000).
In light of downward pressures on wages and labor standards stemming from
competition between migrant and nonmigrant workers, European and North
American labor unions have expressed a “new degree of solidarity with immi-
grant labour” (Avci and McDonald 2000: 202). They have begun advocating
against restrictive labor regulations toward immigrants and against restrictions
to immigration itself (Haus 1995; Nissen and Grenier 2001). When Spain’s
immigration secretary, Consuelo Rumi, declared the country’s intention in
August 2004 to pursue a new open-door policy toward immigration, Spanish
labor unions applauded the move.4 The common goal pursued by both gov-
ernment and unions was to diminish employment of migrants in the informal
economy. In addition, “migrant workers also gradually learn to fight back”
(Cohen 1987: 218) and organize against exploitation and oppression. Recently,
there has been a surge in grassroots organizations throughout the industrial-
ized world defending and promoting the rights of international migrants. No
One Is Illegal and No Borders are two of the better-known transnational
grassroots organizations, in which migrants themselves assume key positions
in their campaign against unfair and undignified treatment. Countless other
national and local, formal and informal organizations and networks exist.
Organized labor and grassroots movements are not the only institutions that
attempt to influence international migration flows and circumstances of interna-
tional migrants. Perhaps the most important agent is the state. Policy makers and
state bureaucrats attempt to manage populations and labor markets and control
the flow of people and workers across borders. The state initiates policies that allow
or deny people and workers physical entry to a country. In addition, it imposes

legal categories on international migrants that define the parameters under which
they can participate in the labor market. For example, the state controls whether
a foreign worker can be employed only temporarily or permanently, or whether
this person can circulate freely in the labor market or is bonded to a particular
employer.
By policing their borders and managing international migrants inside the
country, nation-states are making labor market policy. The governments of tra-
ditional immigration countries, such as Australia, Canada, and the United States,
as well as nontraditional immigration countries, including many western and
southern European countries, have deployed a variety of policy cocktails toward
migration and labor markets (Castles 2004). What these policy mixes have in
common is that they seek to import a desired labor force from abroad and cre-
ate the corresponding conditions for its employment. One important objective
of such policies has been to control the inflow of vulnerable and powerless for-
eign workers to prevent the outflow of capital from the national territory. Visa
programs, such as the American H-2A program and the Canadian Seasonal
Agricultural Workers Program, for example, have provided North American
growers with the labor force necessary to compete with growers in low-wage
countries. Similarly, the construction and service sectors and even sweatshop
manufacturing operations in North American and European cities have received
a boost from the presence of relatively cheap and/or powerless immigrant work-
ers. The creation of a labor force of undocumented immigrants is an important
element of this policy approach to labor markets. In the United States, for ex-
ample, the Clinton administration’s Operation Gatekeeper accelerated the
criminalization of Mexican immigrants, rendering large numbers of interna-
tional migrants “illegal” and thereby increasing their vulnerability as workers
(Nevins 2002). Europe and Japan have created a similar pool of exploitable
workers by keeping their “‘backdoor’ of irregular migration” open (Castles 2004:
215). Through a combination of policies for international migrants, nation-states
have helped create and maintain an internationally segmented labor market
within their own borders.
The governments of migrant-sending countries pursue their own geopoliti-
cal interests through corresponding emigration policies. The economic benefits
from remittances are one motivation for states to facilitate the migration of their
citizens abroad. In Manila, a main source of Filipino offshore labor, the recruit-
ment of emigrants is carefully choreographed by a network of governmental and
private institutions. While still in Manila, workers are initially assigned to land-
or sea-based foreign employment and then to specific occupations. Their em-
ployment abroad is selected before they even embark on their journey. Like-
wise, the seasonal horticulture workers employed in Canada have been selected
for this task in Mexico and the participating Caribbean countries. According to
officials at the Mexican Consulate in Toronto, the interest of the Mexican gov-
ernment in actively participating in this labor migration program is to test a
regime of “orderly migration, something we [currently] don’t have with the
Americans” (Zwarenstein 2002: 17). This regime is supposed to stimulate Ca-
nadian and ultimately American investment in the Mexican agricultural indus-
try and encourage the transfer of technology and knowhow.5 As part of these
efforts, the governments of some sending countries manipulate the image of
emigrating workers. Continuing with the earlier example, the government of
the Philippines “discursively construct[s] Filipino contract workers in such a
way as to increase their marketability” abroad (Tyner 2004: 67).6 The segmen-
tation of migrant and immigrant labor is a tightly managed process that often
involves the states at both ends of the journey.
It would be erroneous to believe that state policies and practices respond
blindly to national and international business interests. Rather, states seek to
protect their own geopolitical interests, associated with foreign affairs, electoral
politics, and other political concerns. In addition, state policies and practices
tend to reflect the interests and biases of state bureaucrats, employees, and poli-
ticians. By infiltrating the bureaucracy of Canada’s federal immigration ministry,
for example, Alison Mountz was able to pinpoint agency within the bureaucracy
of the state. Her research reveals that policy makers and employers of the state are
“themselves located in complex webs of social relations [and] experience the world
in distinct ways” (2003: 624). The people who design migration and labor mar-
ket policy do not float above the world, unaffected by ideologies of class, race,
religion, or the nation. The state itself is a social institution, and policy making
a social process.
Based on her observations of the day-to-day operations and discursive prac-
tices inside the state, Mountz (2003: 624) concludes that “nation states medi-
ate transnational migration through categorization.” One of the most important
categories in the context of international migration is citizenship. The next sec-
tion examines this category in greater detail.
Citizenship
Citizenship is a strategy of inclusion and exclusion to achieve political aims.
Throughout history, citizenship has played this role. In the ancient Roman
Empire, for example, “citizenship was conferred on individuals and groups who
had served Rome” (Castles and Davidson 2000: 32). Citizenship congealed the
political power of the empire. In a similar manner, modern citizenship is a cat-
egory that serves political and economic purposes. At the national scale, mod-
ern citizenship is a way of rewarding people who are loyal to the state with
economic and social rights and privileges. International migrants are usually not
endowed with the privilege of citizenship. Although citizenship may be an option
after spending several years in a country, migration entails at first the

“decitizenization”7 of people. At the international scale, citizenship is an im-
portant element in “the set of rules that organize the nation state’s regulations
with the rest of the world” (Boyer 1990: 41). In this section, I explore how citi-
zenship and the regulation of labor markets intertwine at both national and
international scales.
At the national scale, citizenship policies are domestic labor market policies.
Citizenship is a way to organize the labor market by delineating the level of access
workers receive to the labor market. Noncitizens are either excluded from the
labor market altogether or their participation is tightly controlled, often guid-
ing them toward the secondary segment or the informal labor market. In the
European Union, for example, citizenship is the overarching criterion, defin-
ing the role of international migrants in the labor market. Citizens of European
Union member countries generally enjoy similar and relatively unrestricted
access to the labor market;8 citizens of non–European Union countries have
limited and subordinate access; and citizens of Turkey receive intermediate-level
access based on the terms of bilateral agreements between Turkey and the Eu-
ropean Union. Similarly, the North American Free Trade Agreement has low-
ered formal employment barriers to businesspeople and professionals from
Canada, Mexico, and the United States, but not to citizens of other countries.
These examples illustrate that citizenship is a legal mechanism to assign
workers to a hierarchy of status categories. Noncitizens tend to be pushed into
the lower end of this hierarchy. In addition, the conditions imposed on non-
citizens often tie workers to the labor market. Visa regulations in many coun-
tries require noncitizens to work in order to enter and/or remain in the country.
When these noncitizens drop out of the labor market, they usually lose their
visa status and face deportation. In some cases, permission to enter and remain
in a country is linked to a job with a particular employer. Although these jobs
are sometimes in well-paying positions, they are more often in the secondary
segment of the labor market, in seasonal occupations in agriculture or construc-
tion, and in labor-intensive sectors. Foreign citizenship produces a flexible and
relatively powerless labor force, and it ultimately “cheapens the labor power”
of immigrant workers (Sharma 2001: 417).
Noncitizenship is a condition for labor to be “unfree,” as exemplified not
only by the slaves of ancient Greece and the nineteenth-century southern United
States, but also by contemporary foreign migrant harvesters and seasonal workers
in North America and Europe. These workers are neither able to offer their
capacity to work freely in the labor market nor are they granted citizenship.
According to some scholars, modern citizenship and freedom of labor go hand
in hand. Both rest on workers’ “ability to claim their labor power as a form of
personal property” (Adriaansens 1994: 97). Many international migrants who
lack citizenship of the country in which they reside also lack the ability to choose
whether and where to work.
In addition, noncitizenship is a condition for the criminalization of interna-
tional migrants. Noncitizens who fail to obtain or maintain the necessary entry
and employment documents are rendered “illegal.” Without proper documents,
these illegal migrants cannot work in the formal economy and will be pushed
into the informal economy, where minimum wage laws and labor standards do
not apply. Noncitizen workers constitute a substantial labor force in the infor-
mal labor markets of Europe and North America. An additional factor for the
relative size and persistence of a labor force of undocumented migrants is the
fear among these workers that they will be unable to reenter the country once
they leave. To prevent this scenario, they sometimes stay longer than they other-
wise would (Piore 1979). Exclusionary citizenship policy not only produces a
cheap and exploitable workforce, but its enforcement at the border also keeps
this workforce in the country.
Citizenship is also a mechanism to shift a large share of the cost of social
reproduction from the state to the immigrants. Undocumented migrants, in
particular, are typically denied many social and economic benefits, including
health care, education, unemployment insurance, and social security, which
citizens take for granted. In industrialized countries, undocumented immigrants
constitute a workforce that is “simultaneously a ‘low burden’ on state revenues
but also ‘highly skilled’ to encourage capital accumulation” (Samers 2001: 141).
The very category “illegal immigrant” is a legal strategy to deny basic rights to
some workers while weakening the political clout and capacity for resistance
among them. In France, for example, tougher immigration policies did not stop
migration streams, but they rendered more migrants illegal (Samers 2003). With
these policies, the French government achieved the multiple aims of providing
a cheap and powerless workforce to domestic employers, trimming the costs of
social reproduction, and legitimizing this action by appearing to clamp down
on immigration. The illegalization of noncitizens is a strategy to manage a labor
force of migrants, which factually already exists.
A potential counterargument against putting citizenship at the center of labor
market segmentation is that citizenship per se does not disadvantage workers.
Rather, what subordinates foreigners is the denial of economic rights, such as
the right to organize, strike, and freely choose one’s occupation. If these rights
were granted to noncitizens, then existing inequalities between migrant and
nonmigrant workers would diminish (Attas 2000). Along these lines, Yasemin
Nuho4lu Soysal (1994: 12) writes, “Citizenship is no longer the main determi-
nant of individual rights and privileges, and . . . these rights are now codified in
a different scheme, one that emphasizes personhood rather than nationality.”
Yet, in the examples Soysal cites to support this thesis, such as Turkish guest
workers in Germany, social and economic rights are extended only after mi-
grants undergo a series of probationary procedures associated with a stepwise
series of residence and employment permits.9 Thus, not every person is granted
postnational rights, but only those who are selected by an immigration sys-
tem or guest worker program and who submit themselves to a series of re-
strictions and controls. Empirical evidence further contradicts the idea that
postnational rights level the playing field between citizens and noncitizens. The
Turkish population—even after living in Germany for decades—still experiences
higher unemployment rates, receives lower wages, and continues to cluster in
occupations in the secondary segment of the labor market. Similarly, in Canada,
Mexican and Caribbean agricultural workers formally possess social and eco-
nomic rights but in practice experience working conditions far below the stan-
dards that apply to Canadian citizens. Citizenship continues to shape the degree
of exploitation that workers experience and guides migrants toward the second-
ary segment of the labor market.
At the international scale, citizenship is a way to control the international
movement of people and workers. Migrants are allowed or forbidden to cross
international borders based on their citizenship. Citizenship also defines the
circumstances under which border crossings occur: unhindered, with restric-
tions, or informally. In addition, depending on migrants’ citizenship, their at-
tributes as labor change when they cross an international border. For example,
Filipina workers participate freely in the labor market in the Philippines, but
they become unfree when they enter Canada as live-in caregivers serving par-
ticular families. Potential migrants will have to weigh the benefits of citizen-
ship at home against the anticipated benefits of moving to a country with higher
wage levels but where they do not enjoy citizenship privileges. If the disadvan-
tages associated with losing citizenship outweigh the advantages, a worker likely
will not migrate. In this case, citizenship constrains international mobility and
“helps to keep the poor in their place” (Hindess 1998: 69). It orders the inter-
national labor market along the boundaries of nation-states.
In a commentary on international labor and capital mobility, Philippe Van
Parijs (1992) develops the idea that citizenship creates and maintains geographi-
cal inequalities between workers in different countries. His notion of “citizenship
exploitation” hinges on the fact that different wage rates and labor standards apply
to the citizens of different countries. Through “unequal exchange” (Emmanuel
1972), the citizens of a high-wage country trade goods that embody less labor time
against goods produced in low-wage countries that embody more labor time.
This inequality, entrenched in production and exchange processes, produces
inequities between the workers in different countries. Unequal international
terms of exchange, however, do not constitute exploitation if unequal wage rates
are caused by the different productivity levels of workers in different countries.
In this case, the citizens of a country with lower productivity levels than their
trading partner merely suffer from the asymmetrical international distribution

of capital and technology. The problem of citizenship exploitation arises only
when productivity levels cannot account for the entire wage differentials between
countries. Van Parijs insists that a portion of the wage differential between coun-
tries is attributable to citizenship. In fact, “Citizenship status may exert a quan-
titatively more powerful influence on the distribution of material welfare than
wealth status or skill status” (1992: 162, emphasis in original). Citizenship ren-
ders some workers more exploitable than others, and it “pulls the distribution
of income away from what it would be under market conditions” (158).
According to one interpretation, an achievement of modern citizenship is
to divide humanity into manageable subpopulations that can be submitted to
the rule of a single state apparatus (Hindess 1998). Following this line of argu-
ment, it is reasonable to suggest that citizenship also strategically divides a glo-
bal labor force. In my interpretation of segmentation theory, workers with
different citizenships tend to be tied to different segments of the labor market.
Whether the workers with different citizenships are locked into different nation-
states due to mobility constraints or are mobile and live inside a single country
or a metropolitan area does not fundamentally change this function of citizen-
ship. In both cases, citizenship orders the labor market, albeit at different geogra-
phical scales. A workforce divided along the lines of citizenship can be disciplined
by capital in a manner similar to the way divided subpopulations can be man-
aged by the nation-state.
Cultural Representation
“What allows migrant workers to be used as a ‘cheap’ and largely unprotected
labor power are not any inherent qualities of the people so categorized but, rather,
state regulations that render them powerless” (Sharma 2000: 8). This statement
raises the question of how these repressive state regulations can be justified among
policy makers, within the state bureaucracies, and to the electorate. Images of
migrant workers must be constructed to justify denying international migrants
high wages and decent labor standards. Cultural representations achieve this aim.
Cultural representations are judgments that associate people with distinct char-
acteristics and qualities and assign them to particular social and economic roles.
For example, representations of individuals and social groups along the lines of
gender, race, and ethnicity associate meanings to people that structure the rela-
tionships between them, typically creating social hierarchies in which women
are subordinated to men, blacks to whites, ethnic minorities to an unmarked
majority, and so on. These “ways of seeing” (Berger 1972) constitute an impor-
tant element of labor market segmentation. They entrench, shape, and legiti-
mate labor practices toward particular groups of workers, including immigrants
and foreigners. Cohen (1987: 180) recognizes the regulatory function of cultural
representation when he states in the context of migration policy and the em-
ployment of international migrants that the “law and labour process are rein-
forced by the ideological hegemony of the powerful image-makers in society.”
What Cohen also indicates is that cultural images are not products of mystical
and unknowable processes but are made by persons and institutions exercising
agency.
Geographical scale and cultural representation go hand in hand. Our images
of people are often tied to particular geographical scales. For example, we evoke
the scale of the neighborhood to envision the social embeddedness of immi-
grant workers in Chinatown, Little Italy, or Greektown; we summon the na-
tional scale to measure the impact of illegal immigration on the public treasury
or the national labor market; and we associate economic and political forces of
globalization with the displacement of people in developing countries, trigger-
ing streams of international migration.10 Scale is a way of framing our reality
(Delaney and Leitner 1997). Conversely, at which scale we represent migrant
workers and at which scale we imagine labor market processes to occur shape
concrete international policies on labor mobility, national practices toward
foreign workers, and local labor market conventions. “Ideological scales” (D.
Mitchell 1998: 162) affect the manner in which migration takes place and labor
markets operate. Labor and migration practices that exist at various scales, and
the manner in which we think of labor markets as bonded to one or another
scale, are recursively related to each other. In other words, “scale needs to be
treated dialectically” (Herod 1991: 84); it shapes labor markets as much as it is
shaped by them.11 In the following discussion, I focus on representations of
migrant labor at national and international scales and examine the relationship
between these representations and the material practices according to which
labor markets operate.
At the scale of the nation-state, cultural representations tend to distinguish
between migrant workers and nonmigrant workers. Historically, racial stereotypes
have played a crucial role in creating and legitimating this distinction. Racial
stereotypes have depicted migrants and immigrants as a “polluting presence”
(Sibley 1995: 104). This depiction applies more or less to Gypsies in Britain,
Mexicans in the United States, Moroccans in France, Turks in Germany, and
international migrants in other countries. In many industrialized countries,
feelings of abjection are directed, in particular, toward refugees, asylum seek-
ers, and illegal immigrants, demoting them “to a lower mode of existence”
(Nyers 2003: 1074). Such feelings enforce the unequal treatment of these inter-
national migrants relative to the native-born population. Although both groups
may possess the same ability and skill to perform a given job or complete a given
task, cultural representations often subordinate migrant workers to nonmigrant
workers.
In addition, demeaning representations of foreigners and migrants tend to

dehumanize workers, permitting their objectification as abstract labor. Prevalent
discourses of migration depict international migrants not as struggling individu-
als in search of a better life for themselves and their families but as value-producing
labor that should make a viable economic contribution but that often has a nega-
tive impact on the labor market equilibrium. Whatever the precise image of
international migrants in particular geographical and political contexts, these
images often do not acknowledge the humanity of the migrants, thereby deny-
ing them human agency. The images often suggest that international migrants
are submissive and compliant labor.
However, images that subordinate foreign workers can also be accompanied
by positive images of hard-working and humble immigrants. In the United
States, for example, foreigners are also portrayed as “founders” who supplement
the native-born population, continuously replenishing the nation (Honig 2001).
This representation of migrants is deeply entrenched in American identity. For
example, action hero and governor of California Arnold Schwarzenegger (2004)
praised immigrants (like himself) in his celebrated speech at the 2004 U.S. Re-
publican National Convention. He applauded their courage to start a new life
and their ambition to make an important contribution to society. His advice to
newcomers was to “work hard and . . . play by the rules,” implying that success
will be ensured in this way. Schwarzenegger’s speech is revealing in that it pre-
sents immigrants in a positive light as long as they live and work by the rules
defined by the nonimmigrant population. Coexisting positive and negative
representations of immigrants may initially seem contradictory. However, they
present two sides of the same coin. Favorable images are projected onto immi-
grants in light of their positive contribution to economic growth. These positive
images are necessary to legitimate immigration policies and justify the admittance
of foreign workers to the country. Once these workers are in the country, nega-
tive representations often assign them the role of subordinate labor.
Citizenship is a critical category related to the cultural representation of
migrant and immigrant workers. The representation of people as belonging or
not belonging to an “imagined” national community (Anderson 1991) is a com-
mon tactic of the inclusion of people—or their exclusion and subordination.
The idea that citizens somehow “belong” enables them to claim privileges that
unbelonging noncitizens are not supposed to have. For example, citizens can
claim priority in the labor market and entitlement to better jobs relative to
noncitizens. These privileges have been normalized and go unquestioned in
popular discourse. Citizenship and noncitizenship become taken-for-granted
cultural labels with symbolic meanings that classify labor and order it hierar-
chically. Citizenship and noncitizenship signify differences between workers
where no other differences may exist.
International migrants may be an easy target for cultural labeling. They tend
to be a minority relative to the overall population, are usually not a coherent
population that speaks with a unified voice, and, as newcomers, they tend to
lack the political clout of more established groups. In addition, they may care
less about the cultural labels attached to them than individuals with deep-seated
local roots. In particular, workers who are only temporarily in a country may
have a high tolerance for low-status work because the image of their occupa-
tion is not important to their community at home. Many international migrants
see work as a means to make money to send home and elevate their status there.
Which kind of job enables them to achieve this aim may be secondary. In fact,
migrant workers are “the closest thing in real life to Homo economicus of eco-
nomic theory,” a hypothetical person who judges work on the basis of wages as
opposed to other characteristics (Piore 1979: 54). For these reasons, interna-
tional migrants may not have an interest in resisting their employment condi-
tions, particularly if it jeopardizes their work and residency status. Agency may
instead be exercised in a manner that complies with their role as secondary
labor. For example, rather than resisting their degrading situation as domestic
workers, Filipina migrants construct a positive image of their workplace as a
valuable economic opportunity.12
The cultural representations that legitimate the economic roles of migrants
also involve the migration process itself. The very act of migration assumes dif-
ferent meanings depending on who migrates and at which geographical scale
migration occurs. In the United States, for example, a worker who moves from,
say, economically depressed Detroit to sunny Los Angeles will be commended,
especially if this move results in a wage increase or a better job. However, a person
who crosses the international border and moves for the same reasons from a
depressed village in Mexico to Los Angeles will be shamefully branded a “wet-
back.” Although the migrants from Detroit and Mexico both pursue similar
economic goals, the former is judged a hero, the latter a parasite. Inconsistent
judgments of the migration process are tied to geographical scale and the citi-
zenship of the migrant. The depiction of international migration of noncitizens
as an illegitimate practice diminishes the human suffering experienced by the
poor and unemployed Mexican worker and refuses her or him the right to alle-
viate this condition through migration. This depiction denies potential inter-
national migrants the agency to make their own migration decisions.
Cultural representations in migrant-sending countries contribute their share
to the international labor migration. In the Philippines, for example, citizens
who work abroad are described as “heroes and heroines” (Tyner 1999: 194). In
their roles as international ambassadors and senders of remittances, they help
the country pursue its geopolitical and economic interests. The discursive ma-
nipulation of the image of the emigrant entices workers to participate in off-
shore labor programs.13 Cultural representations are an important tactic in the

management of labor flows from the Philippines to other parts of the world.
Despite the elusive character of processes of identity construction, agency in
these processes is not intangible. Recent scholarship has attributed the creation
of meanings and identities of international migrants to concrete actors. In a study
of Filipino labor emigration, James Tyner (2004) locates the production of the
image of migrant labor in government and private and nongovernmental orga-
nizations. In a study of the Canadian foreign labor program, Nandita Sharma
(2001) traces cultural representations of temporary migrant labor to speakers
in parliamentary debates. The representation of the Canadian foreign labor pro-
gram is also shaped by the staff and employees of nongovernmental organizations.
In an assessment of Canada’s offshore labor program, a prominent nongovern-
mental organization recently identified a set of “best practices” through which
the program could be sustained and supposedly benefit migrant workers (North-
South Institute 2004). However, by suggesting relatively minor modifications
and quick fixes, the organization legitimated a foreign labor recruitment scheme
that is inherently exploitative in nature. Nongovernmental organizations are
powerful agents that influence and legitimate discourses of labor and migra-
tion. They can function as “moral instruments” that claim not to be “run di-
rectly by governments [and] are assumed to act on the basis of ethical and moral
imperatives” (Hardt and Negri 2000: 35–36).
Conclusion
In this chapter, I focused on national and international geographical scales to
outline the processes involved in the regulation of labor markets through in-
ternational migration. Although the international segmentation of labor cer-
tainly exists at global and national scales, it also occurs at the local scale, in
metropolitan areas and rural labor markets. The empirical parts of this book
emphasize the local scale. The discussion in this chapter serves to ground these
empirical studies in a theoretical context of labor market segmentation that
involves processes at scales other than the local.
In addition to scale, the regulation of labor markets involves a complex sys-
tem of formal and informal processes and economic, social, cultural, and po-
litical practices. These processes also involve concrete agents, including the state
and its bureaucrats, private businesses, nongovernmental organizations, and,
as I show in later chapters, professional regulators, newspaper reporters and letter
writers, employers, and even international migrants themselves. These processes
not only situate foreign migrants in subordinate social and economic roles but
they also normalize these roles. In the end, we take many of the most powerful
and strategic processes of labor segmentation for granted.
In the next chapter, I offer a social and cultural perspective on labor market
regulation. The emphasis is on the strategic construction and manipulation of
the identities and material circumstances of international migrants for the pur-
pose of social reproduction. This perspective complements the perspective pre-
sented in the current chapter, which focused on the representation and use of
international migration in the interest of production. The two realms of pro-
duction and reproduction go hand in hand, and they both constitute impor-
tant components of the relationship between migration and labor markets.
◆ 2
CAPITAL AND DISTINCTION
Early approaches to labor market segmentation focused on either demand- or

supply-side processes (e.g., Ashton and Maguire 1984; Gordon et al. 1982; Reich
et al. 1973). Work and social reproduction, however, are not independent spheres
of human life and should not be separated into independent analytical catego-
ries. Recent scholarship on the segmentation of immigrant labor has begun treat-
ing labor markets as a multidimensional process involving the interaction of
economic, social, and cultural practices. Michael Samers (1998), for example, has
shown in his research that labor demand, citizenship, and policies on immigra-
tion and education are interlocking components of the segmentation of labor. In
this chapter, I show how Pierre Bourdieu’s ideas of capital and habitus can be
applied to the structuring of labor markets. Because labor markets are socially
regulated, social theories, such as those developed by Bourdieu, can help us un-
derstand the relationship between migration and the labor market. Bourdieu’s
ideas contribute an important cultural perspective to this relationship. My aim
in this chapter is thus to present a coherent outline of this cultural perspective.
The work of Pierre Bourdieu has been enormously influential in the social
sciences over the past decades. His ideas have found widespread application in
almost every research topic imaginable. Bourdieu’s own career stretched over
several decades, beginning with early research in Algeria in the 1950s and end-
ing with his death in January 2002.1 It would be impossible to give a full ac-
count of his work in this chapter. I therefore limit my discussion to his treatment
of habitus and capital, extending the notion of capital to the context of citizen-
ship. Although I already discussed citizenship at some length in the previous
chapter, this discussion stopped short of revealing how citizenship can act as a
form of capital that complements other types of capital. For Bourdieu, capital
is about social reproduction. In this respect, citizenship and other social and
cultural processes of distinction—as practices of social reproduction—link to
international migration and the social regulation of labor markets.
The chapter is organized into four sections. First, I discuss a perspective of

capital that embraces not only economic but also social and cultural processes.
Second, I examine the effect of social capital on immigrants and their work. The
third section deals with institutionalized and embodied forms of cultural capi-
tal. In the fourth section, I discuss citizenship as a form of capital and a mecha-
nism of labor regulation.
Forms of Capital
Capital is a complex category and cannot be captured in a simple definition.
Adam Smith, David Richardo, and Karl Marx, among others, offered numer-
ous perspectives on capital. Marx, for example, acknowledged in his three vol-
umes of Capital and in other writings that capital exists in various forms. Money
is only one “form of appearance” of capital, and only if it is embedded in a pro-
cess of commodity circulation (Marx [1867] 2001: 161). As noted earlier, Marx
distinguished between constant capital, which he associates with the means of
production, and variable capital, by which he refers to labor. Elsewhere, Marx
and Engels (1953: 51) differentiate between modern capital, expressed in mon-
etary form, and estate (ständisches) capital, expressed in physical possessions.
Underlying these appearances of capital is a common process. All appearances
embody unequal social relations whereby capital serves as a general “means of
exploitation and domination” (Marx [1867] 2001: 794). This perspective of
capital as a means of domination permits its application to a range of social,
cultural, and institutional processes. Capital thus exists not only in the realm of
production but also in the realm of social reproduction. In addition, this per-
spective acknowledges human agency. The processes associated with the circu-
lation, valorization, and devaluation of capital are not concealed by mysterious
market forces or a hidden logic of “the economy.” Rather, they can be attrib-
uted to strategically acting people and institutions with concrete political and
social motivations.
The reproduction of social structure is not simply a matter of deciding who
gains access to monetary capital. According to Bourdieu (1984, 1986; Bourdieu
and Passeron 1977), various forms of capital are involved in the reproduction
of society. Although Bourdieu did not apply consistent categories of capital in
his writing,2 a core idea that runs through many of his texts is that different forms
of capital coexist. I focus my discussion on three broad forms of capital: eco-
nomic capital, social capital, and cultural capital. Economic capital is capital in
its monetary form, as financial resource or fiscal asset. It is the most conven-
tional perspective of capital and the one privileged by orthodox economists over
other forms of capital.3 Social capital refers to social networks, membership in
social groups, and social identities associated with membership. Cultural capi-
tal relates to physical, behavioral, and organizational attributes of symbolic
CAPITAL AND DISTINCTION 37
meaning and value. In the category of cultural capital, several subcategories

can be distinguished: embodied cultural capital refers to corporeal appearance
and performance; objectified cultural capital represents acquired material status
symbols such as art or fashion; and institutionalized cultural capital refers to
institutional diplomas, certificates, or other forms of institutional recognition
(Bourdieu 1986).
None of these forms of capital is imposed on us by enigmatic forces. Rather,
they are inventions for the strategic purpose of domination and reproduction.
In addition, forms of capital are not static categories. They change over time,
across geography, and with social context. If existing forms of capital are insuf-
ficient to achieve social reproduction, then dominant social groups will create
new forms of capital. Likewise, outmoded forms of capital will disappear once
they lose their function of distinguishing between people. For example, the value
of ancestral lineage, which was crucial in maintaining social order in feudal
Europe, declined with political democratization and the “liberation” of labor
under capitalist production. Although family linkages are still important, other
forms of capital, including economic, social, and cultural capital, have become
critical factors in passing social status from one generation to the next.4
Contemporary ideologies of money, community, culture, and nationhood
manifest themselves in the concrete forms of economic, social, and cultural
capital and, I argue, citizenship capital. These forms of capital constitute inter-
connected parts in the wider process of social production and reproduction.
While access to capital provides a person with social status, status recursively
defines a person’s access to capital. The rigidity of the boundary of who does
and who does not have access to capital and who gains and who is denied social
status reproduces the existing structure of society. Although rigid, these bound-
aries are not etched in stone. The actions of individuals, social groups, and in-
stitutions can rupture, move, and redraw the boundaries.
The application of the term “capital” to social and cultural processes should
not imply that social reproduction is a purely economic process—quite the
opposite. It pulls the economic into the realm of the social and cultural, per-
mitting movement beyond a discourse of the economy that places monetary
value at its center (Gibson-Graham 1996). The boundaries between economic,
social, and cultural processes become fluid. As a rhetorical strategy to illustrate
the connection between economic, social, and cultural processes, I apply ter-
minology traditionally associated with monetary activities to nonmonetary so-
cial and cultural processes. For example, cultural attributes are “devalued” if
their exchange value relative to other forms of capital declines; individuals and
social groups make strategic “investments” in social and cultural forms of capi-
tal based on a prognosticated rate of return.
What makes Bourdieu’s approach to capital particularly appealing to the
study of migration is that forms of capital are inherently geographical. Migrants
move between places where different systems of valorizing capital exist. Just as
economic capital exists as different currencies in different places and foreign
exchange rates determine the monetary worth of an immigrant, so does the
appearance of other forms of capital vary geographically. The value of social and
cultural forms of capital will change as migrants move from one place to an-
other. For example, in Kheda, India, the ability to withdraw from the labor pro-
cess is a symbol of cultural capital that signifies social status (Gidwani 2000). In
North America, on the other hand, not engaging in the labor market is seen as
being idle, as freeloading, or, in the case of urban ethnic minorities, as patho-
logical (Lewis 1966; Murray 1984). Whether withdrawing from the labor mar-
ket signifies high or low status depends on geographical location. Migrants who
invested in a particular form of capital at their place of origin may not be able
to retrieve the value of their investment at the place of their destination. If a
family from Kheda settled in North America and withdrew from, or never en-
tered, the labor market, its status would likely not increase as it may have in the
family’s hometown. The valorization, devaluation, or creation of forms of capital
is a place-particular process controlled by social groups, institutions, and indi-
viduals pursuing the aim of distinguishing themselves from others. In the con-
text of migration, long-term residents may seek to elevate their status relative
to immigrants, by devaluing the cultural characteristics of newcomers relative
to their own.
Another reason Bourdieu’s approach to capital is suitable for studying mi-
gration is that migrants make their own strategic choices regarding investment
in various forms of capital. Often, the investments they make differ from those
made by nonmigrants. For example, some immigrant groups use social capital
in the form of ethnic networks and group identity to gain access to employment.
The ethnic networks embedded in North America’s Chinatowns and other eth-
nic and immigrant enclaves attest to the economic importance of social capital
for many newcomers. Nonmigrants do not use their social and ethnic ties in
the same manner as newcomers, and they use other forms of capital to secure
access to the labor market.
An important feature of Bourdieu’s perspective of capital is the relationship
between various forms of capital. An individual form of capital does not stand
on its own. Rather, the different forms of capital complement each other, and
resources can be strategically transferred from one form of capital to another.
The aim of strategically acting individuals and groups is not to simply accumu-
late economic capital but to maximize the sum of benefits accrued from differ-
ent forms of capital. Thus, several coexisting forms of capital and the relationship
between them are relevant to explaining the reproduction of society and the
social and economic position of immigrants.
The labor market is a primary site where different forms of capital are ex-
changed with each other. For example, a worker’s personal network (social capi-
tal) can lead to a job providing an income (economic capital), or an employer

may pay higher wages (economic capital) to workers who project a particular
image (cultural capital) that the employer seeks to cultivate. Individuals may
strategically invest in a portfolio consisting of various forms of capital to
achieve a desired position in the labor market. The significance of the forms-
of-capital perspective, however, lies not in its emphasis on individual behav-
ior but in its focus on collective agency, aimed at producing and reproducing
social structure. Social groups gain relative advantages through investing col-
lectively in a form of capital that is inaccessible to other groups. For example,
the social elite of France, England, and other European nations has histori-
cally used its privileged access to institutions of higher education to obtain
high-ranking jobs in government, prestigious financial institutions, and other
respected businesses. The institutional capital associated with higher education
served the social elite as a medium to distinguish itself from less-privileged
groups, skim off the top positions in the job market, and thereby reaffirm its
upper-class status.
The view of labor markets as a site for exchange of different forms of capital
expands orthodox perspectives of the labor market. Orthodox economic theo-
ries, including human capital theory, see the labor market as a device for match-
ing workers possessing certain skills with jobs requiring these skills. This device
is controlled by the mysterious “invisible hand,” which supposedly regulates the
labor market. In contrast to this orthodox view, a perspective that sees the labor
market as a site for exchange of various forms of capital implies that labor mar-
kets are not only socially regulated but also are a central location where social
reproduction takes place. This role of the labor market was recognized long ago
by Marx, Weber, and others. The uniqueness of the forms-of-capital approach,
however, lies in its logic of distinction. This logic offers a fresh perspective that
transcends capitalocentrism, weaves together social, cultural, and economic
spheres, and enables one to examine labor market processes relating to immi-
grants’ roles as newcomers and social outsiders.
Social Capital
The literature on social capital is vast.5 Social capital is probably the most
widely studied form of capital in the context of migrant and immigrant labor
markets. Ethnic and immigrant communities provide “distinctive sociocul-
tural resources” (Waldinger 1993: 695), which offer opportunities for employ-
ment and entrepreneurship in occupations such as house cleaning, security
services, and sewing and in niche branches of construction, manufacturing,
and retail industries.6 In some cases, ethnic entrepreneurs benefit from an
immigrant clientele that provides a consumer market for ethnic specialty goods
and services (Bonacich 1972; Bonacich and Modell 1980). In other cases,
entrepreneur-rich immigrant groups take advantage of the availability of

workers in other immigrant groups. In Los Angeles, for example, Korean en-
trepreneurs often hire Mexican workers for low-skill positions (Light et al. 1999).
While social capital provides labor market opportunities to immigrants, it also
contributes to the occupational segmentation of newcomers along ethnic and
origin lines.
In the context of migrant and immigrant labor markets, the notion of social
capital has typically been applied in the sense of a survival and self-help strat-
egy. This application follows the use of the term social capital by James Coleman
(1990) and Robert Putnam (2000), who are often credited with introducing the
term to a North American audience. For Bourdieu, on the other hand, social
capital is a form of collective agency and a means of social distinction that shapes
an enduring social order. Thus, social capital is more than simply a social net-
work that connects immigrants to the job market.
A concept that was dear to Bourdieu but that features less prominently in
the literature on migrant and immigrant labor markets is habitus. Bourdieu
(1977: 18) defines habitus as “a system of schemes of perception and thought”
that “acts . . . as an organizing principle” of behavior. On numerous occasions,
Bourdieu (e.g., 1977, 1984, 1998) explains that habitus is class- and group-
contingent and that habitus defines a set of “rules,” which members of a class
or group observe when they engage with each other. A person’s ability to follow
these rules signifies his or her membership in the group, and the skill with which
a person “plays” by the rules influences his or her status in the group. Building
and relying on social networks and collective identities is a distinctly habitual
process. For example, when Bourdieu (1977) studied the people of Kabyle,
Algeria, he observed that habitus structures kin relationships. Likewise, the so-
cial and personal networks of international migrants are often built on the basis
of habitual schemes of perception and thought. For example, the transnational
networks of Chinese business families who settle in countries around the
Pacific Rim are cultivated through guanxi, a strategy involving a series of gift-
giving and network-building practices (K. Mitchell 1995; Ong 1999; S. Wong
and Salaff 1998).
In a similar fashion, Roger Waldinger (1996) implies that the lower rate of
business ownership among African Americans vis-à-vis various immigrant groups
in New York is attributable to the habitus of the groups. Newly arriving immi-
grants draw on common principles of perception and behavior, based on their
places of origin and immigrant experiences, to build social networks, establish
trust, and foster ethnic consciousness. These efforts create tangible economic
benefits for immigrant employers, clients, and workers. African American New
Yorkers, on the other hand, “have moved further down the road towards as-
similation than the new immigrants, in due course losing the ingredients that
make for business success” (256). The link between habitus and social capital is
important to conceptualize how immigrants develop particular individual and
collective employment strategies in response to the constraints they confront
Contrary to the premise of social capital as a self-help strategy for social
upward mobility and economic liberation, social capital often leads to exploit-
ative employment arrangements. Social obligations, ethnic loyalties, and family
linkages can be used by entrepreneurs to take advantage of vulnerable immi-
grants, pushing them into low-wage jobs and engaging them in informal and
sometimes unpaid work (Bonacich 1972, 1993). Network-based recruitment
can also produce employment opportunities in isolated occupational and in-
dustrial niches, preventing newcomers from interacting with other, more es-
tablished ethnic groups at the workplace and acquiring the language skills and
the cultural capital necessary to progress in the mainstream economy (Moss
and Tilly 1996). Immigrants who settle in cities and in smaller places where
large ethnic communities are absent may indeed escape these negative influ-
ences of social capital. In the Canadian province of British Columbia, for ex-
ample, immigrants who settle outside of the dominant immigrant gateway city
of Vancouver see higher average incomes and lower unemployment rates than
their counterparts in the city (Bauder 2003b). Social capital structures the im-
migrant labor market—not only as a simple sociocultural resource that some-
one either possesses or not but also as an organizing principle of control and
domination.
Cultural Capital
Cultural capital is the symbolic valorization of embodied, objectified, and in-
stitutional signs. These valorizations affect how labor markets operate. As I il-
lustrate in the empirical part of the book, they are critically important cultural
practices that distinguish the labor market roles of immigrants from those of
nonimmigrants. For cultural symbols to function as capital, they require a shared
code on the basis of which a sign can be interpreted. A cultural symbol “has
meaning and interest only for someone who possesses the cultural competence,
that is, the code, into which it is encoded,” says Bourdieu (1984: 2). People and
social groups who no not possess the code to decipher the meaning of a symbol
are excluded from using this symbol effectively as a form of capital. In addi-
tion, valuable cultural symbols must be distributed unevenly among the popu-
lation so that the owners of a symbol can distinguish themselves from the
nonowners. In the following discussion, I focus on institutionalized cultural
capital and embodied cultural capital and their relationship to migrant and
immigrant labor.7
Institutionalized Cultural Capital

Institutionalized cultural capital requires formal acknowledgment by institu-
tions, such as government agencies, professional regulatory bodies, and educa-
tional establishments.8 For example, schools of higher education typically award
diplomas and degrees that acknowledge their graduates’ successful completion
of an educational program. A certificate from an Ivy League university in the
United States is more likely to impress employers and lead to a prestigious job
than a certificate from a community college, even if the quality and content of
the certificate programs are similar. If access to the most prestigious educational
institutions is restricted to elite social groups, then institutionalized cultural
capital facilitates the reproduction of social structure.
This was precisely the case in France before World War II. The most presti-
gious institutions of higher education were accessible only to the social elite.
The elite not only strategically invested in this type of education but also ma-
nipulated the exchange value of educational credentials to ensure that these
credentials maintained a high value (Bourdieu and Passeron 1977). Bourdieu
(1984: 132) emphasizes the link between economic and institutionalized capi-
tal in the context of social reproduction: “Those fractions of the dominant class
and middle class who are richest in economic capital (i.e., industrial and com-
mercial employers, craftsmen and tradesmen) have had to make greatly increased
use of the educational system in order to ensure their social reproduction.” After
World War II, however, France’s system of higher education was democratized,
ending the elite’s monopoly on this form of capital. The French upper class
responded by strategically devaluating the educational system as a signifier of
cultural worth and simultaneously emphasizing new forms of cultural capital
in the “unbureaucratized areas” (147) of etiquette, the fine arts, fashion, and
sports.
In the labor markets of Europe and North America, however, the regulatory
function of institutionalized cultural capital has not diminished. In fact, since
World War II, institutional credentials and certificates have become increas-
ingly important to gain access to the primary labor market segment (Brint and
Karabel 1989; Collins 1979). More than ever are bachelor’s and master’s degrees
required for employment in this segment; workers without institutional cre-
dentials are increasingly excluded from well-paying and professional jobs and
relegated to the secondary segment of the labor market. There is even consider-
able doubt whether the U.S. education system has become more democratic over
the past decades. Instead, “the expansion of educational opportunities in
twentieth-century America has not much affected the way in which different
social classes take advantage of these opportunities” (Collins 1979: 4). Elite
groups continue to have privileged access to elite institutions and use this insti-
tutionalized cultural capital to secure their own social reproduction.
For international migrants, educational credentials constitute a major labor

market barrier. Many immigrants obtained their educational diplomas and
certificates in their country of origin. The exchange value of these foreign cre-
dentials, however, tends to diminish when they cross international borders. In
many cases, university degrees are not recognized by employers and government
authorities in the countries where international migrants settle. If migrants re-
ceive any credit for their institutional credentials, it is often at a lower level. A
master’s degree may be recognized as a bachelor’s degree, a bachelor’s degree
in engineering may be given equivalency with a certificate program as a techni-
cian, and so forth. Foreign-trained and -educated immigrants are routinely
excluded from practicing medicine, architecture, engineering, law, and many
other occupations associated with high prestige and remunerated with high
wages. Unable to practice in their original occupations, immigrants often as-
sume low-status and low-wage occupations and work as janitors, dish washers,
or manual laborers.
For foreign-trained immigrants, the problem is not that they were denied
education. In fact, many immigrants had privileged access to education in their
countries of origin, especially if they belong to the social elite there. Rather,
the problem is that their foreign credentials are not recognized by employers
or licensing bodies in the countries of their destination. Although credentials
are generally important to gain access to occupations in the primary labor
market, highly educated international migrants still tend to be excluded be-
cause their foreign credentials are not measured by the same yardstick as do-
mestic credentials.
The refusal to recognize foreign credentials can be interpreted as a strategic
move on the part of professional associations, state regulators, and licensing
bodies to limit access to highly prestigious occupations to native-born work-
ers. Such a strategy of inclusion and exclusion is not uncommon in the profes-
sional occupations. By defining entry requirements to professional occupations
in such a manner that only particular groups are eligible, regulators use their
authority to allocate labor for the purpose of reproducing the existing social
order. Bourdieu (1984: 151) recognizes that occupational entry requirements
often reflect the self-interest of the occupation’s practitioners: “Those aspiring
to or holding a position may have an interest in defining it in such a way that it
cannot be occupied by anyone other than the possessors of properties identical
to their own.” By imposing a set of rules and conventions that exclude foreign-
educated and -trained workers and by privileging domestically educated and
trained workers, regulators facilitate the reproduction of a nonimmigrant pro-
fessional class as opposed to an immigrant workforce. The nonrecognition of
foreign credentials represents the collective labor market interests of nonmigrant
professionals and solidifies the grip of nonmigrants on the primary segment of
the labor market.
Place of education becomes a symbol of labor market distinction. The edu-

cational systems of Europe and North America continue to be systems of ex-
clusion and inclusion. They distinguish between domestically educated workers,
who receive legitimate institutionalized cultural capital in the form of domes-
tic credentials, and immigrants, who possess foreign credentials deemed in-
ferior. Although “democratized” educational systems may have a diminishing
role in reproducing national class divisions, they increasingly enforce the in-
ternational segmentation of labor according to national origin and place of
education. In other words, processes of distinction may have shifted away from
translating inherited class privilege into economic privilege to converting in-
herited birthplace into labor market privilege.
North American research suggests that even the immigrant/nonimmigrant
dichotomy is too simplistic to capture more intricate processes of distinction.
What emerges is a hierarchical system of valorizing foreign labor based on its
place of education. In Canada “there are large differences in the transferability
of education obtained” abroad (E. N. Thompson 2000: 28). Immigrants who
were educated in South and Central Asia, the Middle East, or southern and
eastern Europe experience greater degrees of credential devaluation than im-
migrants educated in the United States or western Europe. The national origin
of education and training produces a hierarchical system of distinction between
workers. This system segments the labor market along the lines of place of edu-
cation and indirectly along the lines of immigrant/nonimmigrant status and
place of origin.
Embodied Cultural Capital

Embodied cultural capital refers to conventions and norms of corporeal behav-
ior. The body has long been a central theme in social theory (Shilling 1993).
Likewise, any investigation of how labor markets are social regulated would be
incomplete without considering the body. Marx ([1867] 2001) highlighted the
need to physically and socially maintain the body to sustain labor power;
Weber (1934) emphasized corporeal renunciation and discipline as a condition
for the emergence of capitalism; and Foucault (1990: 135–145) coined the term
“biopower” to describe how the body serves the needs of modern industrial
production. Bourdieu links the body and the labor process through his con-
cept of embodied cultural capital.
Embodied cultural capital appears “in the most automatic gestures or the
apparently most insignificant techniques of the body—ways of walking or blow-
ing one’s nose, ways of eating or talking” (Bourdieu 1984: 466). These gestures
and techniques are signs that carry cultural meanings and identify whether or
not a person is a member in a given social group. Blowing one’s nose with lady-
like discretion or elephant-like fanfare suggests the existence of certain qualities
and competences that go far beyond a person’s nose-blowing behavior. It situ-

ates a person within a matrix of class, gender, and other cultural identities.
The link between gestures and techniques of the body and the projection of
certain qualities and competences onto people resonates with Judith Butler’s
(1990, 1993) idea of performativity. According to Butler, the body has “no
ontological status” (1990: 136), or preceding identity,9 but cultural identities
are created and reproduced through repetitive enactments: “Acts, gestures, and
desire produce the effect of an internal core of substance, but produce this on the
surface of the body. . . . Such acts, gestures, enactments, generally constructed, are
performative in the sense that the essence or identity that they otherwise purport
to express are fabrications manufactured and sustained through corporeal
signs and other suggestive means” (136, original emphasis). Butler’s work on
gender identity and performativity has important implications for the con-
ceptualization of the relationship between the body and the labor market.
Research has shown, for example, that restaurant owners and managers valo-
rize hip, gay, and ethnic performances among their wait and kitchen staff,
which “represents the cultural capital invested in the restaurant” (Zukin 1995:
172). Waiters portraying the proper embodied cultural capital demanded by
their workplace also get higher tips (Crang 1994). On the shop floor, bodily
enactments among youths such as smoking and the ritual “laff” signify cul-
tural readiness for blue-collar work (Willis 1977: 89–116). In the high-level
financial and corporate sector, proper workplace performance requires not
only proper attire but also a body sculpted through diet and exercise. In this
sector, “body image and maintenance is . . . an integral part of workplace per-
formance” (McDowell 1997: 37).
Employers and workers who insist on corporeal performances to express
competence for certain occupations participate in a cultural segmentation of
labor. Workers who do not possess the code for legitimate corporeal representa-
tion and who fail to give the expected corporeal performances face the devalua-
tion of their labor and exclusion from workplaces in which a certain embodied
cultural capital is required. For example, an African American job seeker’s “spar-
kling mounds of braided hair” may “severely curtail the probability of success
in job interviews” (Fernández-Kelly 1994: 100–101). Her embodied cultural
capital devalues her labor in the mainstream labor market, relegating her to the
lower segment of the labor market and/or in the ethnic niche economy.
The association between occupation and corporeal style permits social groups
who are already established in an occupation to manipulate corporeal conven-
tions and legitimate their own embodied cultural capital. Embodied cultural
capital is thus not a purely exogenous labor market variable. Rather, legitimate
body image is also valorized inside the labor market. Bourdieu (1984: 152–153)
illustrates how the image of femininity is shaped by the beauty industry and the
women working in it:
The fact that certain women derive occupational profit from their charm(s),
and that beauty thus acquires a value in the labour market, has doubtless
helped to produce not only a number of changes in ethics and a redefini-
tion of the legitimate image of femininity. Women’s magazines and all the
acknowledged authorities on the body and the legitimate ways to use it
transmit the image of womanhood . . . in accordance with a strictly pro-
grammed career-structure (with specialized schools, beauty contests and
so on), to fulfil the most traditional feminine functions in conformity with
bureaucratic norms.
Some workers may be hired because they represent a desired embodied cultural
capital; these workers conversely shape the dominant corporeal styles and sym-
bolisms that structure the labor market. Similarly, if processes unrelated to
embodied cultural capital produce an overrepresentation of a social group in a
particular occupation, this group may subsequently manipulate the legitimate
embodied cultural capital associated with this occupation. To use a hypothetical
example, if ethnic networks channeled large numbers of traditional, lederhosen-
wearing southern German men into the pizza-delivery business, then wearing
lederhosen might become a legitimate practice in this occupation. If this group
dominates the occupation, lederhosen may even become a trademark of the
occupation which customers learn to expect from the delivery personnel. What
this silly example illustrates is that the concentration of an immigrant group in
a given occupation affects the corporeal conventions that dominate in that
occupation.
Similar to other forms of capital, embodied cultural capital is spatially con-
tingent; that is, the cultural meanings of corporeal styles and performances dif-
fer between places. For immigrant workers, in particular, the association between
embodied cultural capital and occupation can be problematic. The styles and
corporeal techniques of immigrants typically cater to social and labor market
contexts at their places of origin. When they arrive in a new country, their bodily
performances and behavior are often interpreted differently. Occupations in the
upper segments of the labor market in particular tend to require an embodied
cultural capital that immigrants often lack. Foreign accents and dialects, unfa-
miliar body odors, and different corporeal practices, such as making or avoid-
ing eye contact, can signify a lack of cultural competence.
We must also acknowledge, however, that immigrants tend to be a diverse
group, representing a wide spectrum of embodied symbols. Even the members
of a single origin group embody widely different cultural capital, depending on
their gender, age, class, family status, and migration history. In addition, coun-
try of origin may not be the best scale at which to envision a system of corpo-
real practices. For example, behavioral practices may differ significantly between
the urban and rural populations of a single country. When immigrants from
both contexts settle in the same foreign country, the value of their corporeal
performances may vary substantially.
Embodied cultural capital also links to habitus, in the sense of “style” and
“disposition” (Bourdieu 2002b: 28), and a set of rules of behavior and engage-
ment shared among the members of a social group. The ability and skill to play
by these rules signifies whether or not a person is a member of a given social
group or class. Institutional settings often embrace distinct habitual norms of
behavior and engagement, especially when the institution caters to a particular
social group. To use an earlier example, wearing lederhosen, binge drinking,
and vulgar humor are legitimate practices at Oktoberfest, a social event cater-
ing to the working classes. These same performances would be entirely inap-
propriate at the opera, where guests in lederhosen who jump on their chairs and
tables to sing along with the orchestra would be escorted, more or less politely,
from the premises. The class contingency of habitus carries over into occupa-
tional settings and workplaces. Different rules of conduct and behavior, for
example, apply in an office environment, in hospitality services, and on the as-
sembly line. Even within the office environment, different behavioral codes exist
for managers and secretarial staff. Likewise, in hospitality services, different rules
apply to hotel housekeepers and concierges.
Labor segmentation theorists have acknowledged that different sets of so-
cial and institutional rules apply in primary and secondary labor market seg-
ments (e.g., Peck 1996). Regarding the rules associated with habitus, however,
a more finely grained picture emerges. The rules of behavior and engagement
are not homogeneous across labor market segments but vary in individual oc-
cupations and workplaces. For example, acceptable behavior and corporeal style
differ between janitorial work and restaurant waiting, although both occupa-
tions typically belong to the secondary segment of the labor market. Next to
class, gender, ethnic, and immigrant identities also influence the distinct set of
rules that apply in individual occupations and workplaces. As I mentioned in
the previous chapter, this diversity within labor market segments does not fun-
damentally undermine segmentation theory. Although the rules of behavior and
engagement may be different between two occupations, they may still share
characteristics, such as low wages, minimum job security, improper enforce-
ment of labor standards, and so forth, that relegate these occupations to the
secondary segment of the labor market.
Habitus is also place-contingent, which has profound implications on im-
migrants. John Friedmann (2002: 302) notes that “migration typically involves
a massive readjustment of migrants’ habitus.” Immigrants tend to have inter-
nalized the habitus of their place of origin, where the rules of proper engage-
ment differ from those in the country of settlement. For example, when some
inhabitants of Kabyle, Algeria—whom Bourdieu studied in the 1950s to develop
the concept of habitus—moved as guest workers to Frankfurt, Germany, their
habitus was severely disrupted, leading to social and institutional isolation of

the migrants. The women found that their style of dress, which was normal in
their home region, was perceived in Germany as inappropriate costume to wear
in public and labeled them as strangers, outsiders, and intruders unwilling to
assimilate.10 Their habitual corporeal performances distinguished immigrants
from nonimmigrants.
The place contingency of habitus can affect the labor market situation of
immigrants. Immigrants who have internalized the labor market rules existing
at the place where they grew up and made their initial labor market experiences
may be unfamiliar with the local labor market rules where they settle, or they
may be unable to play effectively by these rules. Communicating an intended
meaning through corporeal performance requires learning and internalizing the
proper codes through the ongoing immersion in a system of corporeal com-
munication that uses these codes. For example, wearing a suit for a job inter-
view will not impress an employer if the applicant has not learned to carry himself
properly in this suit. Likewise, high heels may not project the intended image
of professionalism if the job applicant loses her balance while wearing them.
Immigrants who are unable to perform the expected corporeal roles commu-
nicate to employers that they are not culturally competent for a given job.
Bourdieu (1977: 16–22, 1998: 130–134, 141–145) was careful to point out
that rules and habitus are neither natural occurrences nor necessary outcomes
of an evolutionary process. Ludwig Wittgenstein ([1945–1946] 2001: §85) fur-
ther notes that the rules that link sign and meaning are not interpreted but
learned. For example, two equally valid interpretations of an arrow could be
to follow the arrow head or the rod. The correct use of the sign is therefore
not a matter of interpretation but requires learning the rule of the sign. Tak-
ing Wittgenstein a step further, the teaching and learning of rules is collective
agency, benefiting those who have helped to create the rules and who are able
to play by them. Habitus and the associated rules are strategic ordering prin-
ciples to reproduce society. Immigrants who enter an unfamiliar habitual ter-
rain will be denied full and equal participation in the social and economic game
until they either assimilate and learn the rules or the rules are rewritten to
accommodate the newcomers’ own perspective of the game. Although habi-
tus is enduring, “very difficult to change,” and has a tendency to reproduce
itself, eventually it “may be changed through [the] process of awareness and
of pedagogic effort” (Bourdieu 2002b: 29). On the one hand, the agency on
the side of employers, nonimmigrant workers who see immigrants as their
competition, and a range of other social groups and institutions can devalue
the embodied cultural capital of immigrants. On the other hand, the agency
of immigrants (and nonimmigrants) can reshape the image of immigrant bod-
ies and raise their exchange value in individual occupations and in the labor
market as a whole.
Citizenship as Capital
Citizenship can be interpreted as a form of capital that complements other forms
of capital. Liberal theorists, following Michael Walzer (1983), continue to in-
sist that citizenship serves as a means to self-identify national communities. In
the previous chapter, however, I took a different stance on citizenship as a
mechanism of differentiation rather than self-identification. This view brings
me in line with social scientists who have empirically observed that citizenship
“helps to legitimize the domination of those who are socially as well as legally
. . . classified as non-citizens” (Sharma 2000: 6). In this section, I develop this
view of citizenship further and tie it to Bourdieu’s perspective on capital and
social reproduction. The function of citizenship as a means of domination, in
particular, resonates with the definition of capital I presented earlier. Here, I
demonstrate how citizenship functions as a form of capital in the sense intended
by Bourdieu: as a socially constructed category of distinction and reproduction,
which can be exchanged with other forms of capital.
Citizenship identifies foreigners and immigrants as legal, social, and cul-
tural outsiders. According to James Holston and Arjun Appadurai (1999: 14),
“Citizenship concerns more than rights to participate in politics. It also in-
cludes other kinds of rights to the public sphere, namely, civil, socioeconomic,
and cultural. Moreover, in addition to the legal, it concerns the moral and
performative dimensions of membership that define meanings and practices
of belonging in society.” Acknowledging the complexity of the category of
citizenship, I focus on two aspects of citizenship: formal citizenship and “sub-
stantive” citizenship (4). I discuss these two aspects in the context of cultural
distinction.11
Formal Citizenship
Formal citizenship is a mechanism of legal distinction. Nation-states use citi-
zenship to manage their economies by controlling which workers enter the
country and/or by restricting the circumstances under which these workers are
permitted to work. In most industrialized countries, noncitizens experience
various degrees of labor market disadvantage depending on their citizenship and
country of origin. Work visas specify type, terms, and length of employment
for temporary foreign residents. Refugees are sometimes not permitted to work
legally, or they are pushed into the secondary labor market. Undocumented
immigrants must work in the informal economy because their nonstatus does
not permit legal employment. Although differences in immigration and visa
policies exist, citizenship differentiates in a similar manner between workers in
Australia, Austria, Italy, Ireland, the United Kingdom, and the United States.
Citizenship valorizes or devalues a worker’s labor.
Similar to other forms of capital, citizenship is not a natural category. For-

mal citizenship is strategically obtained and deployed by social groups to
achieve capital accumulation. For example, the accumulation strategies of
wealthy Chinese business families may include not only international mon-
etary investments and the transnational expansion of social networks, but also
the acquisition of multiple citizenships (Ong 1999). These families have come
to Canada, for example, under this country’s Business Immigration Program
and an Entrepreneur Program that grants permanent residency status with the
option to become a citizen after three years in exchange for the promise to in-
vest in the Canadian economy. Essentially, these families trade their economic
capital for Canadian citizenship capital. Not uncommonly, families belonging
to this business elite enter into so-called astronaut arrangements, in which an
entrepreneur shuttles between Asia, where his main business ventures are lo-
cated, and North America, where the spouse and/or the children reside.12 The
strategic nature of citizenship capital is evidenced by the fact that the astronaut
arrangement is often planned before immigration with the “ultimate goal of the
passport” (Waters 2003: 229, original emphasis).
Formal citizenship can be exchanged for other forms of capital. For example,
citizenship can provide access to economic capital in the form of jobs and busi-
ness opportunities available only to the citizens of a country. Citizenship can
also facilitate the creation of social capital when it provides access to individu-
als, institutions, and networks.13 Furthermore, citizenship enables the acquisi-
tion of cultural capital in the form of language skills and educational degrees,
which, for example, the “parachute” children of suburban Vancouver or the San
Francisco Bay area pursue while their parents continue to live and work in Hong
Kong or Taipei. To describe the accumulation strategy of these families in an-
other way, the acquisition of new and additional citizenships is similar to di-
versifying one’s investment portfolio.
Substantive Citizenship
Substantive citizenship is an informal, but no less powerful, mechanism of dis-
tinction. The extension of economic and political rights to noncitizens rarely
equates to social and economic inclusion. To use an example from the previous
chapter, long-term Turkish residents in Berlin benefit from “postnational”
(Soysal 1994) or “relational” (Ehrkamp and Leitner 2003) types of citizenship,
and they “participate in Berlin’s public institutions and make claims to its au-
thority structures” (Soysal 1994: 3). Nevertheless, they remain highly segmented
in the labor market, earn low wages, and suffer from high unemployment rates,
even in the second and third generations. In this case, the substantive aspect of
citizenship marginalizes workers. Although people with different citizenships
share social and economic rights, they continue to be separated into different
life worlds, whereby “each world tends to its own promotion, delegitimizing if
not criminalizing the other” (Holston and Appadurai 1999: 12).
Substantive citizenship is linked to processes of identity construction and
cultural distinction.14 It defines membership in imagined national communi-
ties (Anderson 1991). In a similar manner, substantive citizenship ascribes imag-
ined labor market identities to workers with different nationalities. For example,
in many industrialized countries, including Canada, Germany, Italy, Spain, and
the United States, the demeaning and strenuous work of seasonal harvesting is
typically seen as inappropriate for the legitimate members of the national com-
munity. However, the popular discourse in these countries rarely questions the
suitability of this line of work for Caribbean, Mexican, Polish, or Moroccan
citizens. In this case, the distinguishing characteristic between workers is nei-
ther human nor social or cultural capital, but their citizenship. Identities asso-
ciated with citizenship valorize or devalue labor and therefore legitimate the
differential treatment of workers. This differential treatment defines an ideo-
logical double standard, which imposes different labor market rules on citizens
and noncitizens, creating and reproducing a hierarchical labor market order.
Citizenship as a form of capital is not necessarily linked to either a par-
ticular geographical territory or a particular scale. Often, both formal and
substantive aspects of citizenship are associated with the national scale. How-
ever, urban scholars have recently applied the notion of citizenship at the urban
scale (Holston and Appadurai 1999; Staeheli 2003). Others, as mentioned
earlier, have embraced deterritorialized and postnational concepts of citizen-
ship that breach the borders of the nation state (Sassen 2002; Soysal 1994).
Current geopolitical developments also delink citizenship from the national
scale. The European Union, for example, defines a new regional scale of for-
mal and substantive citizenship.15
The fluidity of citizenship is further illustrated by the various ways the con-
cept is defined and applied. Territorial (ius soli) and origin (ius sanguinis) prin-
ciples of citizenship emphasize either territory or blood lineage as membership
criteria in the national community. For example, following the ius sanguinis
principle, descendants of ethnic German colonists in eastern Europe were ab-
sent from German territory for generations and even centuries but were still
recognized as German citizens when they immigrated to Germany after the
collapse of the Soviet regime. At the same time, the children of foreign guest
workers, who were born in and grew up in Germany, were not entitled to Ger-
man citizenship until recently. On the other hand, in Canada, France, and the
United States, where the ius soli principle applies, a child born on national ter-
ritory acquires citizenship even if the mother was only temporarily in the country
and other relatives have no linkage to the destination society whatsoever.
The ambiguous and mutable nature of citizenship indicates that the defini-
tion of citizenship is strategic, suiting the political and economic agendas of those
who define it. In particular, the peregrinations of capital and labor “affect citi-
zenship profoundly because they provoke new notions of membership, soli-
darity, and alienage. . . . [They] transform the legal regimes of state and local
community” (Holston and Appadurai 1999: 10). Such a perspective of citi-
zenship supports Bourdieu’s (1984: 151) idea that legitimate capital requires
continuous “creative redefinition” before “illegitimate” groups figure out how
to gain access to it.
Conclusion
Processes associated with capital and distinction offer explanations for the labor
market situation in which many international migrants find themselves. By stra-
tegically creating and manipulating various interconnected forms of capital,
including citizenship, a nonimmigrant labor force can distinguish and subor-
dinate immigrant labor and thereby reproduce itself. In this way, the various
forms of capital construct particular labor market roles for immigrants and thus
regulate labor markets as a whole.
These ideas of capital and social distinction challenge core assumptions of
immigrant integration, occupational inequalities, and labor market regulation
discourses, which many researchers, policy makers, and spin doctors of public
opinion portray as common sense. The subordination of many immigrants in
the labor market is not a pure function of inferior education, lack of profes-
sional competence, or language deficiencies, as human capital theory suggests—
otherwise, immigrants would gain access to their legitimate occupations once
they upgrade their employment and language skills (Borjas 1985; Chiswick
1978). Rather, the subordinate position of immigrants relates to the manipula-
tion of cultural identities, unfair evaluation of foreign credentials, enactment
of corporeal conventions, classification based on citizenship, and other processes
of social and cultural distinction. In other words, the segmentation of interna-
tional migrants in the labor market is a result of efforts of distinction and not a
function of self-guiding market forces. Processes associated with capital and
distinction are important factors in the social regulation of labor markets, es-
pecially in light of the international migration of people and workers.
This social regulation of migrant labor is geographically contingent. Although
processes of distinction are a general characteristic of labor markets, the creation
and manipulation of various forms of capital for the purpose of distinction oc-
curs in a place-particular manner. The following empirical studies investigate the
various appearances of capital and the contingent effects of habitus and cultural
representation in the labor markets of Vancouver, Berlin, and rural Ontario. The
case studies conducted in these places illuminate the place-contingent nature of
the relationship between international migration and the regulation of labor
markets.
PART II
IMMIGRANTS IN VANCOUVER
Canadian Immigration Policy
Canadian immigration history has been closely linked to Canadian labor

market and economic policy (Green and Green 1999). Canada’s first wave
of immigration in the seventeenth century was already driven by the
“manpower needs” (Knowles 1997: 6) of the French colonizers. In the
nineteenth century, Canada’s major economic development project, the
building of the Canadian Pacific Railway, could not have been completed
without Chinese labor. Likewise, during the Gold Rush, many treasure
hunters would have needed to cook their own meals and do their own
laundry without the availability of cheap immigrant labor. Between the late
nineteenth and the early twentieth century, Canada sought to recruit
European immigrants to develop and settle the Canadian prairies. Slogans
such as “Work at good wages on Canadian farms” and “British boys, learn
how to own your farm in Canada!” enticed fortune-seeking individuals with
images of prosperity and independence. The role for immigrant women
from Europe differed from that of male farmworkers, but it was neverthe-
less an economic role. One immigrant recruitment advertisement intended
to attract “girls and women used to household work” for domestic labor in
Canadian homes (Knowles 1997: 109–111).
In the first half of the twentieth century and much of the post–World
War II period, immigration levels were coordinated with the business cycle.
Immigration levels were increased during the reconstruction eras following
the two World Wars and decreased in the recessions of the 1930s, 1970s,
and early 1980s. Since 1967, even greater emphasis has been placed on
economic criteria in Canada’s immigration policy (Kelley and Trebilcock
1998). The 1976 Immigration Act (part 1, section 3h) explicitly linked
immigration policy with the aim of fostering economic development;
54 IMMIGRANTS IN VANCOUVER
likewise, the 2001 Immigration and Refugee Protection Act (section 3c)
states that the aim of immigration policy is “to support the development of
a strong and prosperous Canadian economy” (Department of Justice
Canada 2002). After decoupling annual immigration from the business cycle
in the 1990s, federal policy now stresses the general economic contribution
of immigration to the well-being of the Canadian economy. In particular, an
increasing number of immigrants are screened for the education, skills, and
human capital they can offer to Canadian employers and their ability to be
financially self-sufficient and not drain the public pocketbook of Canadians.
To ensure that immigration makes a positive overall contribution to the
Canadian economy, immigration policy selects immigrants according to so-
called immigrant classes. The family class consists of immediate family
members, including parents and grandparents, of Canadian citizens who are
financially accountable for their sponsored relatives. This measure ensures
that the immigrants are no financial burden to the public. In 2001, when the
empirical study on Vancouver was undertaken, 66,644 immigrants entered
Canada under the family class. This number represented 26.6 percent of all
immigrants and refugees to Canada in that year.1 The economic class is made
up of participants in the Business Immigration Program and the Skilled
Workers Program. The former requires immigrants to make a significant
investment in the Canadian economy or to establish or buy a business in
Canada, with the explicit aim to “create jobs for Canadians” (Citizenship
and Immigration Canada, cited in Ley 2003: 428). The Skilled Workers
Program selects immigrants on the basis of a point system that assesses
education, skills, and credentials. The goal of this program is to funnel
workers from abroad into the Canadian labor market. Until recently, the
point system attempted to fill labor shortages in particular occupations, but
today it selects immigrants who are generally competitive in the labor
market. The Skilled Workers Program, in particular, defines a labor market–
centered immigrant policy that mirrors the recruitment strategies of private
corporations seeking to hire the best possible workforce. Canada admitted
152,939 economic-class immigrants in 2001, constituting 61.1 percent of all
immigrants and refugees to Canada. The vast majority (137,089) of these
economic-class immigrants were skilled workers.2 The third major category
is refugees, who are supposedly admitted for humanitarian reasons. How-
ever, Canadian high commissions abroad tend to reject refugees who do
not meet stringent human capital requirements.3 In 2001, Canada admitted
27,894 refugees, or 11.1 percent of all newcomers to Canada in that year.
A total of 250,346 immigrants and refugees4 came to Canada in 2001 (all
numbers: Citizenship and Immigration Canada 2004). To control the
economic impact of immigration, the Canadian government sets immigra-
tion targets for each class. The fact that 54.8 percent of all immigrants to
IMMIGRANTS IN VANCOUVER 55
Canada were skilled workers in 2001 illustrates the importance of labor

market considerations to Canada’s immigration policy.
Immigration policy makers make no qualms about using immigration
policy as a tool to manipulate the domestic labor market. Former Immigra-
tion Minister Elinor Caplan, for example, stated that Canada’s new immigra-
tion legislation needs to attract the “best and brightest” workers to make
Canada more competitive in the global economy (A. Thompson 2001).
British Columbia’s provincial minister responsible for immigration, Murray
Coell (2004), expressed his confidence that “communities throughout B.C.
will benefit from new investment and a more diverse workforce” related to
immigration. Canada’s labor minister, Joe Fontana, made it clear that “we
will have to attract many more immigrants” to fill labor shortages and raise
productivity levels (Toronto Star 2004a). Statements like these reflect a
political discourse on immigration in Canada that is centered on economic
gain. This discourse is heavily influenced by the economic interests and
labor needs of businesses, corporations, and organized labor (Freeman
1995; Veugelers 2000). These stakeholders are keenly aware that immigra-
tion policy is economic policy. Academics have contributed to this dis-
course as well. Considerable time, effort, and brainpower have gone into
streamlining Canada’s immigration policy to produce maximum economic
benefits. So-called policy-oriented research, in particular, has developed
recommendations for selecting those immigrants who stimulate economic
growth. For example, the title of Don DeVoretz’s (1995) often-cited edited
volume, Diminishing Returns, implies that the aim of Canada’s immigration
policy is primarily to produce economic gains.
The economic objectives of immigration policy are, of course, balanced
with other public and political interests, including the protection of domes-
tic labor and, after the 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center in New
York and the Pentagon in Washington, the politics of national and U.S.
security concerns. These interests constrain the implementation of purely
economic policies. For example, Member of Parliament Rahmi Jaffer of the
right-wing Canadian Alliance Party recommended in 2000 that Canada
should lift all immigration restrictions to enable Canadian businesses to
flourish under a flooded labor market. Jaffer’s party, however, immediately
rebuffed his proposal, as it apparently contradicted other conservative
interests of preserving Canada’s existing social order.
That immigration policy aims to regulate domestic labor markets seems
obvious. Immigration policy permits workers with certain characteristics to
enter Canada to produce a particular economic effect. However, once
immigrants are in Canada, the ability of the Canadian government to
influence the labor market impact of immigration is limited. Canadian
immigrants receive “landed immigrant” status, which stops short of citizen-
ship but guarantees civil rights, including the right to compete freely in the
labor market.5 After three years, landed immigrants can apply for Canadian
citizenship, in which case, all remaining legal differences between immigrants
and nonimmigrants are removed. However, although immigrants enjoy
formal equality in the labor market, they are subjected to social and cultural
processes that affect their situation in the Canadian labor market. Migration
regulates labor markets not only through immigration policy but also
through social and cultural processes in Canada.
The Case of Vancouver
After Toronto, Vancouver is Canada’s second most important immigrant

gateway. The majority of Vancouver’s immigrants come from Pacific Rim
countries, including China, India, the Philippines, Korea, and Taiwan. The
empirical study concentrates on immigrants from South Asia and the
former Yugoslavia who settled in Vancouver and its suburbs. The advantage
of examining these two groups is that they differ in respect to migration
motivation, migration history, regional origin, and the size of their local
ethnic community.6 These differences raise the question of whether the
two immigrant groups relate to and integrate into the local labor market in
a similar manner. If social and cultural processes shape the labor market
roles of immigrants, then I would expect the experiences of the two groups
to differ considerably.
In Vancouver, the South Asian immigrant population is much larger in
size than the immigrant population from the former Yugoslavia. Between
1980 and 2001, 71,801 South Asian immigrants settled in Vancouver, which
corresponds to roughly 13 percent of all South Asian immigration to
Canada during this period. During the early 1980s, the annual numbers of
South Asian immigrants who settled in Vancouver declined to almost
10,000. However, numbers rose in the late 1980s and early 1990s, with a
peak in 1996 of roughly 5,400 immigrants. In 2001, roughly 5,300 South
Asian immigrants settled in Vancouver (Appendix, Figure A.1). Among the
South Asians who settled in Vancouver in these two decades, more than
75 percent came directly from India and 14 percent via Fiji. The remaining
countries of origin are Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, and Nepal (Longitu-
dinal Immigration Data System 2003).7
From the former Yugoslavia, 8,022 immigrants settled in Vancouver
between 1980 and 2001, which constitutes less than 10 percent of all
immigration to Canada from this region. Few immigrants from the former
Yugoslavia came to Vancouver prior to 1991. Coinciding with the political
turbulence in the Balkans, arrivals in Vancouver skyrocketed during the
early 1990s and peaked in 1994 with more than 1,200 immigrants. There-
MAP II. 1. Greater Vancouver (Map by Marie Puddister)
after, numbers leveled off to 446 immigrants in 2001. Almost half of the
immigrants from the former Yugoslavia who settled in Vancouver between
1980 and 2001 listed Yugoslavia (or Serbia-Montenegro) as their previous
country of permanent residence, and 37 percent came from Bosnia-
Herzegovina and 11 percent from Croatia. A small percentage came from
Albania, Slovenia, and Macedonia. Because of the redrawing of the political
map of the region between 1980 and 2001, these numbers should be taken
with a grain of salt. Nevertheless, they can serve as a broad overview of the
composition of this origin group. Although both categories, South Asian and
the former Yugoslavia, obviously encompass various national and regional
groups, they do identify immigrants who share regional communalities,
including region-particular cultural and institutional capital.
In the Canadian context, an important factor for the labor market
integration of newcomers is immigrant class. Almost 85 percent of all
immigrants from South Asia who settled in the Vancouver area between
1980 and 2001 entered Canada as family-class immigrants. Only about 10
percent of South Asian immigrants came under the Skilled Worker Pro-
gram; relatively few were refugees. By contrast, roughly 50 percent of the
immigrants from the former Yugoslavia who settled in the Vancouver area
during the same period came as refugees. Another 26 percent were
admitted as skilled workers and 23 percent as family-class immigrants. Very
few were business-class immigrants. The majority of immigrants from
Bosnia-Herzegovina came as refugees, whereas most immigrants from

“Yugoslavia” (Serbia and Montenegro) came as skilled workers (Appendix,
Table A.1).
Over the past quarter-century, the Vancouver Metropolitan Area gained
economically from its close ties to the Pacific Rim and developed into a
service and high-technology center with an expanding labor market in these
areas (Wallace 2002). Compared to other Canadian cities, immigrants have
done well in Vancouver’s labor market: the unemployment rate among
immigrants tends to be lower than in Toronto or Montreal (Badets and
Howatson-Leo 1999). In addition, immigrants are more likely to find high-
skilled employment if they live in Vancouver than in other cities (E. N.
Thompson 2000). Although many immigrants suffer from low-wage returns
on their skills and education relative to nonimmigrants, this earnings penalty
tends to be smaller in Vancouver than in Montreal or Toronto (Pendakur
and Pendakur 1998).
Nevertheless, immigrants are not on equal footing with nonmigrant
workers—not in Canada as a whole, nor in Vancouver. Relative to their
education and skills, immigrants tend to perform poorly in the Canadian
labor market compared to nonimmigrants. They earn less and segment into
occupations in the secondary labor market. Jeffrey Reitz (2005: 3) calcu-
lated that foreign-educated immigrants collectively “earned $2.4 billion less
than native-born Canadians with formally comparable skills, because they
worked in occupations that were below their skill levels.” Apparently, the
“presuppositions of a meritocratic society,” in which educational attainment
is rewarded with occupational status, do not apply to newcomers to the
same degree as to Canadian-born workers (Hiebert and Ley 2001: 24).
Labor market segmentation among immigrants is structured by country of
origin. While immigrants from South Asia, for example, cluster in low-wage
occupations, other immigrants, such as those from Britain, Germany, and
Italy, enjoy relatively high performance levels in the Canadian labor market
(Gozalie 2002). Other dimensions of segmentation include gender and
ethnicity. Although labor market segmentation among immigrants tends to
diminish with their length of stay in Canada, some ethnic and gender groups
remain locked into secondary occupations, even after an extended period
of settlement (Hiebert 1999; Pendakur and Pendakur 1998).
Most recent immigrants from South Asia and the former Yugoslavia who
live in Vancouver participate in the labor force. In 1996, only 11 percent of
recent male South Asian immigrants did not participate in the labor force at
all. Among the other gender and origin groups, the rate of persons not
integrated in the labor force range from 23 to 29 percent.8 Those immi-
grants from the former Yugoslavia and from South Asia who are employed
tend to cluster in the secondary segment of the labor market. In respect to
occupational segmentation, recent immigrants from these areas share many

characteristics. For example, men in both groups are disproportionately
represented in recreational services as supervisors and attendants and in
clerical occupations. Women in both origin groups tend to cluster in lower-
level management occupations. However, there are decisive differences
regarding the occupational segmentation between the two groups. Male
immigrants from the former Yugoslavia are more likely to work in gas-
tronomy, as chefs and in other food preparation services, than male South
Asian immigrants. Female immigrants from the former Yugoslavia are more
likely to be in transportation-related occupations, and South Asian women
are strongly represented in clerical occupations, including supervisory work
(Appendix, Table A.2). Even after several years of living in Canada, a
relatively large share of South Asian immigrant women continue to occupy
positions in lower-status occupations, such as fabrication (Hiebert 1999).9
Vancouver has several large ethnic communities, including the South
Asian community, which offer jobs to immigrants in the ethnic economy.10
However, the effect of ethnic economies is not always positive (Bauder
2003b). Ethnic businesses are often small and sometimes subject family
members and coethnic workers to considerable exploitation and patriarchal
labor practices (Froschauer 1998). For example, Indo-Canadian entrepre-
neurs in Vancouver’s wood-processing and construction industry often hire
family members and coethnic immigrants to perform low-wage jobs in
substandard working conditions (Walton-Roberts and Hiebert 1997). The
ethnic economy contributes to the segmentation of Vancouver’s immigrant
workers into distinct occupational and industrial sectors.
The segmentation of immigrants into the secondary labor market is
associated with low wages. For example, South Asian immigrants experi-
ence an earnings penalty of more than 14 percent relative to Canadian-born
men with similar human capital endowments. Much of this penalty is
attributable to the clustering of South Asian immigrants into low-wage
occupations in the secondary segment of the labor market (Pendakur and
Pendakur 1998). Generally, the average incomes of male and female
immigrants from both South Asia and the former Yugoslavia are far below
those of Canadian-born workers. Although average incomes among
immigrants tend to increase with length of settlement in Canada, they tend
to remain below the average incomes of nonimmigrant men and women.11
In 1996, recent male immigrants from the former Yugoslavia and South Asia
had similar incomes. However, recent female immigrants from the former
Yugoslavia had considerably lower incomes than their counterparts from
South Asia. Region of origin, in combination with gender, is apparently an
important factor in the labor market integration of immigrants (Appendix,
Table A.3). In addition, immigrant cohorts have different migration histories,
which may affect their labor market prospects. For example, immigrants
from the former Yugoslavia who arrived in the 1980s came for different
reasons from those of immigrants in the 1990s, when civil war raged in the
Balkans.
Although immigrants from both origin groups are generally overrepre-
sented in the secondary segment of the labor market, they do not distrib-
ute evenly across the occupations within this segment. Rather, immigrants
tend to cluster in particular occupations and industrial niches, which can be
attributed to the secondary labor market segment. In this part of the book,
I examine cultural processes that channel immigrants into these occupa-
tions.12 An interview survey was designed to explore cultural processes of
inclusion and exclusion that segment immigrants from the former Yugosla-
via and South Asia into the labor market of Vancouver (see Appendix for
method). The next chapter examines how the unfamiliarity of local rules of
behavior and habitus can shape the labor market experiences of newcom-
ers. Chapter 4 investigates how cultural judgments on the side of the
nonimmigrant population segments immigrants into certain occupations.
Chapter 5 explores institutional cultural processes associated with the
devaluation of foreign credentials, which prevent many immigrants from
entering the primary segment of the labor market. Thus, the following
three chapters discuss three conceptually separate social and cultural
processes of segmentation, which I introduced in the first two chapters.
◆ 3
RULES TO WORK BY
“Culture shock” is a common phenomenon among visitors to another coun-

try, and even the most seasoned traveler can be stymied by local behavioral
norms, cultural conventions, and values. Tourists often revel in the sensation
of being surrounded by the exotic and unknown. Other visitors, such as for-
eign exchange students, face a greater challenge as they attempt to forge rela-
tionships with native classmates and host families while learning a new language.1
Immigrants also face a challenge of cultural adaptation when they arrive in their
new country, but they have much more at stake than the casual tourist or ex-
change student. Although the shock experience fades in most cases, immigrants
often continue to experience difficulties reconciling the dominating cultural
norms and conventions of their new home with their own norms and values.
That is, the habitus of the newcomer does not match local norms and expecta-
tions. The rules of the game are defined locally, and the stranger who is unfa-
miliar with the rules will be unable to play effectively or will be excluded from
the game altogether.
Labor markets and business networks also operate according to a set of rules.
For immigrants, being unfamiliar with these rules can have profound effects.
For example, many Chinese business-class immigrants who came to Canada as
entrepreneurs quickly discovered that the business world operates differently
in Vancouver than in Hong Kong or Taipei. Many of their businesses folded
and their investments flopped because they were unprepared for stringent regu-
lations, strange business practices, and peculiar consumer behavior (Ley 1999,
2003). Consequently, a large number of Chinese immigrant entrepreneurs re-
oriented their investments back to China, where they knew how to run a busi-
ness profitably. The return of Chinese entrepreneurs to East Asia is one of the
reasons the astronaut family is a common phenomenon in Vancouver. Busi-
ness regulations and conventions rendered Canada an unattractive place for
investment by many Chinese immigrant entrepreneurs.
In the labor market, conventions and norms are equally important. Many
immigrants are unfamiliar with the norms and conventions of the hiring pro-
cess in Canada, are unable to judge employers’ expectations, and are unaware
of the codes of conduct in the Canadian workplace. But unlike business-class
immigrants, who are able to move their investments to Asia to circumvent local
business constraints, immigrant workers are bound to offer their labor locally
to local employers.2 The practices that exist in the local labor market keep many
immigrants from reaching their full economic potential and disadvantage them
relative to nonimmigrant labor. These practices facilitate the segmentation of
immigrant labor into the secondary labor market.
Two major questions frame this chapter. First, how do the rules of the local
labor market, practices in the hiring process, and workplace conventions seg-
ment immigrants into particular occupations in the Vancouver labor market?
Second, how do immigrants strategically respond to the labor market constraints
they encounter and negotiate varying degrees of familiarity with local practices
and conventions? The answers to these questions will provide insights into the
cultural processes that regulate the labor market of Vancouver.
Rules of the Labor Market

When I began my empirical investigation of immigrants from the former Yu-
goslavia and South Asia, I did not specifically pose, let alone seek to answer,
the two questions posed earlier. Rather, I intended to explore the general na-
ture of labor market barriers and constraints experienced by different immi-
grant groups. In one of my first interviews, however, a respondent mentioned
that many immigrants are unfamiliar with the rules of the Canadian labor mar-
ket. The use of the term “rule” in the context of labor market segmentation of
immigrants immediately drew my attention to the writings of Pierre Bourdieu,
who used the same terminology in the context of group- and place-particular
behavioral norms and conventions. In subsequent interviews, I focused on col-
lecting more information to establish the link between norms and conven-
tions and labor market segmentation. This information forms the basis for
this chapter.
The interviewee mentioned above is a settlement counselor and immigrant
from the former Yugoslavia who laments that many immigrants are behavior-
ally and mentally unprepared for the Canadian labor market. He observes that
his clients, mostly refugees from war-torn Yugoslavia, are often surprised when
they learn that they are expected to attend so-called job-finding clubs, in which
they are taught basic communication norms and interpersonal conventions.
Apparently, these newly arriving immigrants do not expect that labor market
norms and conventions will differ much from those that dominate the labor
market in the former Yugoslavia:
RULES TO WORK BY 63
You have to go to [a] job-finding club. That’s very strange for our people;
they don’t know the rules. For example, [if a] man who is working with
wood products, and he needs a job, he has to go to a job-finding club. But
he is not a worker in an office. For them that’s [a] problem, you have to go
to school. Everything is different. [In the former Yugoslavia] you don’t need
to write a résumé, a thank [you] letter. That’s a problem for our people,
they don’t know how to write résumés. They have to go to school three
months for that. For people who [seek work in a trade,] its very strange to
write a résumé.
One respondent, who settled in Canada in the mid-1990s, had a similar experi-
ence in the context of the job search and hiring process. She remarks that the
rules of applying for a job were different in the former Yugoslavia than they are
in Canada: “In our country we had not that type of [job] interview. I remember
when I started working [in the former Yugoslavia], it was completely different.
They just gave me one test, I did it, and the next step was they show me [the
workplace] and just ask: ‘Do you know what is this?’ I said yes. ‘Do you know
how to use this, this, this?’ I said yes, I know. Thank you, that’s all. And then
they decided. It wasn’t so much conversation as here, not so many questions.
[It was] always in written form. Here is everything much more serious.”
Employers expressed similar concerns that newly arrived immigrants may
be quite competent in terms of job skills, but many of them lack the cultural
competence to advance in the workplace or business world. One employer, for
example, remarked that the immigrants he hires from the former Yugoslavia
are highly skilled in their trades and many know more about the product and
the production process than he does. However, his “advantage” is that he knows
the “Canadian system.” His knowledge of Canadian workplace rules and busi-
ness conventions positions him in the labor market above his immigrant em-
ployees, whose positions in the firm tend to be confined by a “glass ceiling.”
These excerpts illustrate that the immigrants’ norms of labor market be-
havior do not always match the expectations of Canadian employers. The rules
are different. Immigrants who are unfamiliar with the rules or unable to ob-
serve them are either unlikely to obtain the jobs they want or their occupa-
tional upward mobility is constrained, especially if they compete with workers
who know the rules and navigate the labor market more effectively. What
makes these labor market norms and practices particularly relevant to labor
market segmentation is that the rules of engagement tend to be more strin-
gent in the occupations of the primary labor market segment and more le-
nient in the secondary labor market. The inability to play by the rules curtails
the possibilities for professional or managerial employment and relegates many
immigrant workers to unemployment or confines them to marginal occupa-
tions in which behavioral norms are less important.
Immigrants from South Asia are not immune to these disadvantages. Like
their fellow immigrants from the former Yugoslavia, many South Asian immi-
grants are unfamiliar with Canadian labor market rules and conventions, which
prevents them from entering the upper segment of the labor market. The case
of South Asian immigrants also illustrates how workplace conventions can put
immigrants into difficult labor market situations. Several interview respondents
commented on this issue, and some suggested that unfamiliarity with workplace
conventions can be a reason for occupational demotion or dismissal from the
firm. For example, Canadian employers and South Asian immigrant workers
sometimes have different ideas of gender roles at the workplace. An employ-
ment counselor recalls a situation in which one of her clients lost his job, not
because of incompetence to perform it but because his interpretation of proper
tasks for men and women differed from that of his employer:
[My client] was working in a nursery and his supervisor gave him some
work [planting] flowers in a field. He saw the girl working with those heavy
big pots and load them on the truck, right? He thought, “Hey, she is a little
girl and the work is heavy,” he just switched with her. And the supervisor
came after two hours, and he saw the switching, and naturally he was mad
with them. And there is a difference of opinion. . . . And [the South Asian
immigrant] was fired from the job. He is new to the system, he is not aware
of the Canadian working atmosphere. He’s right from his culture, he did a
favor for that girl, he helped her. But from the workplace’s point of view,
he was totally wrong.
In this example, a conflict between the immigrant’s perspective of gender roles3
and the expectations of the workplace led the immigrant worker to violate the
rules of workplace behavior. As the employment counselor further explained,
the consequence for the immigrant was not only job loss but also diminished
prospects for finding alternative employment, as the references from the previ-
ous employer were likely to be unfavorable.
It would be a mistake, however, to generalize the labor market experiences
of immigrants from the former Yugoslavia and South Asia. No two immigrants
have identical experiences. Nevertheless, some factors and processes are more
important than others in shaping the labor market roles of immigrants. One of
the most important variables in Vancouver is immigrant class.
The Significance of Immigrant Class

To set the stage for a discussion of immigrant class, it is helpful to first describe
the characteristics of immigrants in the different classes. Table 3.1 depicts the
cross-tabulation of immigrant class and educational attainment. Among both
immigrant groups, family-class immigrants and refugees have low-average levels
RULES TO WORK BY 65
TABLE 3.1. Landings by Education and Immigration Class in Metro Vancouver,

1980–2001 (in percentages)
Skilled
Level of Education Family Refugee Business Worker Other Total
Former Yugoslavia
0–9 years 32.9 36.5 17.6 28.1 .0 33.4
10–12 years 22.8 20.3 35.3 7.1 16.7 17.5
Some univ., cert., diploma 29.0 27.9 29.4 18.7 33.3 25.8
University degree 15.2 15.3 17.6 46.1 50.0 23.3
Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0
South Asia
0–9 years 45.1 45.6 35.4 31.2 33.8 43.6
10–12 years 30.5 31.3 25.8 12.0 37.1 28.6
Some univ., cert., diploma 11.6 14.4 16.5 11.7 16.2 11.8
University degree 12.8 8.6 22.2 45.1 12.9 16.0
Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0
Source: Longitudinal Immigration Data System (2003).
of education and few have university degrees. Among immigrants in the skilled
workers program, on the other hand, almost half are in possession of a univer-
sity degree. That immigrant class reflects the education levels of immigrants
comes as no surprise, as immigrant selection procedures apply varying educa-
tion standards to different immigrant classes. Skilled workers, in particular,
would not qualify for immigrant status if they had low educational attainments.
The relatively sizable share of skilled workers with nine years of education or
less is likely due to the fact that spouses and dependent family members are
included in the skilled workers category. The data also show that, next to class,
place of origin shapes the educational characteristics of immigrants. Immigrants
from the former Yugoslavia tend to have higher educational attainments than
immigrants from South Asia, especially in the family and refugee categories.4
Immigrant class also relates to the intention among immigrants to work in
Canada (Table 3.2). As expected, the intention to work in waged employment
is highest in the skilled workers program, as the aim of this program is to at-
tract immigrants who can enter the labor market immediately. The intention
to work (both employed and not identified) is also high among refugees. The
intention of becoming self-employed is, as expected, high among business-class
immigrants. In both origin groups, a large share of family-class immigrants have
66
IMMIGRANTS IN VANCOUVER
TABLE 3.2. Landings by Intention to Work and Immigration Class in Metro Vancouver, 1980–2001 (in percentages)
Skilled
Family Refugee Business Worker Other Total
Former Yugoslavia
Intend to work—Employee 34.7 40.1 35.3 57.6 33.3 43.3
Intend to work—Occupation not identified 19.1 20.7 5.9 10.0 .0 17.5
Intend to work—Self-employed .0 .0 23.5 .0 .0 .0
Student 12.8 22.2 29.4 12.8 33.3 17.6
Do not intend to work 33.4 17.0 5.9 19.6 33.3 21.5
Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0
South Asia
Intend to work—Employee 10.4 3.6 8.6 46.7 17.1 13.8
Intend to work—Occupation not identified 30.2 53.9 3.4 8.7 40.5 28.7
Intend to work—Self-employed .0 .9 21.2 .0 .0 .3
Student 16.7 28.0 43.0 19.5 19.0 17.8
Do not intend to work 42.7 13.6 23.8 25.1 23.3 39.5
Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0

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no intention to work at all. The data also reveal important differences between
origin groups. For example, family-class immigrants and refugees from the
former Yugoslavia are more likely to declare that they intend to work as waged
employees, whereas South Asians in the same classes did not identify their pref-
erences for employment.
Immigration class is intertwined not only with educational attainments and
the intention to work, but also with the career objectives of immigrants and their
ability to observe the rules of the labor market. Most respondents addressed these
class differences among immigrants at one point in the interview. A settlement
counselor who works with South Asian immigrants distinguishes particularly
between skilled workers and family-class immigrants:
I would divide my clients into two categories, one is the people who come
under the independent [i.e., economic] class . . . they are people who have
a professional background, who are educated, who have got skills, they have
got the experience, and they have decided to come to Canada to make it
their home country for a better living. The other category is a family-
sponsored class. In that category, the people who are already here, in
Canada as landed immigrants or citizens, they want to sponsor their close
relatives from their country to come and live with them. . . . I believe that
these two categories have distinct and separate issues which they [need to]
address when they arrive in Canada. . . . Under the independent class, their
main objective is to get a suitable employment for the principal applicant,
as well as his or her spouse, and whereas the family-class people, they come
here to live with their sponsors, and their issues are different, because most
of the time they are people with a language barrier, they cannot speak En-
glish or French and, if at all, they seek employment it has to be either as a
farmworker or to work in a restaurant.
Whereas skilled worker immigrants tend to be eager to enter the labor market
in the occupations they held before coming to Canada,5 family-class immigrants
tend to be less focused on entering the primary segment of the labor market.
They may have other priorities and sometimes lack the language skills to com-
pete effectively in the labor market.
Similar class differences exist among newcomers from the former Yugosla-
via. Refugees have different labor market priorities, career objectives, and work
aspirations than immigrants selected under the skilled workers program. An
immigration lawyer has witnessed three immigration waves from the former
Yugoslavia passing through his practice. He explains that each wave had its own
characteristics in terms of immigration class and career objectives:
Vancouver had several different waves of immigrants. They are directly cor-
related with the collapse of Yugoslavia. The first wave . . . were skilled
workers by and large. . . . It’s well known . . . when the Yugoslav special
measures program was enacted in ’92, the then immigration head of Canada
Immigration in Belgrade was actively told to go to [high-tech] institutions
in Belgrade to actively recruit people. And today you have [the] chief pro-
grammer at Raytheon in Richmond, Raytheon a big U.S. company, whose
Canadian head office is here in Richmond. [The] head programmer is a
Serbian woman from Belgrade. You name it: ISM-BC, Electronic Arts,
Sierra Wireless, PMC Sierra, all these high-tech firms have a very large
component of foreign-trained workers, and a surprisingly high number are
Yugoslavian. . . . The second wave were refugees from Bosnia and Croatia,
the third wave were people who immigrated again from Yugoslavia proper
from Serbia and Montenegro, and that trend is continuing with the large
group who are immigrating now.6 . . . Refugees came all government or
privately sponsored, and so came with nothing, obviously. [For] a refu-
gee, there’s no choice [of coming voluntarily to Canada]. And so you have
a culture developed among the refugee community where an ideal job is
perhaps something fairly static, perhaps in a union that has a relatively high
wage for not a terribly taxing job in terms of having to speak English. So
the dream job I’m told always is working as a janitor in the Vancouver
School Board building because you immediately get benefits and a good
union wage. Another desirable job among the refugee community—that
doesn’t even register on the Richter scale for professionals—is if you can
work as a building manager and get a free apartment that way. So there’s a
definite culture difference there, I mean people are looking for security,
they’re risk-averse, and they’re looking for employment that secures them
a benefit that’s very tangible.
This quote suggests that different habitual labor market attitudes can be linked
to immigrant class. However, a few respondents warned of simplistic associa-
tions between immigrant class and distinct work aspirations. Refugees can also
be highly skilled and extremely motivated, especially because Canada’s immi-
gration procedures subject refugees to “suitability criteria,” including age and
education. One respondent, who was admitted as a refugee and now works as
an employment counselor, rejected the perception that refugees lack skills and
self-esteem. She cites herself as an example of an extremely motivated and achiev-
ing refugee. Nevertheless, the themes of ambitious skilled workers and less dis-
criminating refugee and family-class immigrants recurred in many interviews.7
Immigrants’ familiarity with Canadian labor market rules tends to vary with
immigrant class. Economic-class immigrants who entered Canada under the
skilled workers program tend to have a better understanding of Canadian busi-
ness and labor market conventions than family-class immigrants and refugees.
Many immigrants in the skilled workers class from the former Yugoslavia were
RULES TO WORK BY 69
employed in professional occupations before they emigrated. Many of these

workplaces were integrated in an international marketplace, and business con-
ventions were attuned to international standards. In addition, many of these
workers came from Belgrade, a cosmopolitan city where people from different
origins intermingled. Most refugees, on the other hand, come from remote rural
areas in Bosnia-Herzegovina. An interviewee notes that immigration class often
correlates with rural/urban origins of migrants and that this difference affects
the manner in which immigrants integrate into Canadian society in general:
The correlations for success, in terms of integration, seem to come down to
urbanity, to some degree. That is, if these people were from major centers—
Sarajevo, Belgrade, the immigrants from the city of Novi Sad who all came
as independents, the ones who came from Belgrade really are fantastically
well integrated here. . . . People from the countryside in Yugoslavia or
from smaller towns have a much rougher go of it, whereas the people from
the cities are very ambitious, very aggressive, career-oriented. . . . Sarajevo
was a multicultural city, there was much closer to a Western kind of style
of living than there was in the smaller cities.
Likewise, another interviewee suggests that older refugees from Bosnia are rela-
tively disadvantaged compared to younger skilled workers who adapt to the
competitive Canadian labor market more easily: “Most Bosnians worked for the
same employer for twenty, twenty-five years. That was not uncommon. Young
people, who just as things started to open up in Yugoslavia in the two or three
years before it collapsed, are used to more entrepreneurial culture, who were
starting their own businesses. . . . These people tended to have a maybe easier
time of it, because they don’t see their employer as a lifetime guarantor of secu-
rity and of welfare.”
Similar differences exist among immigrants from South Asia. Many immigrants
from urban areas are economic-class immigrants who worked in professional
occupations in South Asia and who have adopted modern gender and work atti-
tudes (Bhachu 1996; Evans and Bowlby 2000). “Most countries now have similar
cities,” explains one interviewee who migrated from Delhi to Vancouver, imply-
ing that immigrants from urban areas tend to be familiar with Western norms of
behavior. According to another respondent, the urban immigrants were “always
talking to people in the U.S. or Canada or Europe, somewhere sort of Western.
And they feel more comfortable, plus they have colleagues who are perhaps Ameri-
can or British. And that’s a very different experience from a client who is not ex-
posed to that sort of thing. So just that kind of cultural integration factor and ability
to adapt to the way of thinking of the employers here is really huge. So some people
are able to do that quickly, [for] other people it’s a huge struggle.”
On the other hand, many family-class immigrants come from rural areas,
especially the villages of the northern Indian region of Punjab. Many of these
immigrants are bound by traditional gender and work roles (Evans and Bowlby
2000). They have had little exposure to Western conventions in rural India and
often lack the cultural competences demanded in the upper segment of the
Canadian labor market. A job-training specialist who migrated from Punjab is
familiar with the problems confronted by immigrants from this region: “They
came from the rural areas, [they] lived in small villages, not the big cities. So
they are people very simple, they hesitate when they come here, they hesitate
how to talk, they’re nervous sometimes of Canadian people . . . in our country
[Canada] they feel shy.”
The ability to cope with Canadian labor market rules and conventions is
reflected in the clientele of nongovernmental organizations that assist immi-
grants in settlement and employment matters. Services such as job-finding clubs
are attended mainly by refugees and family-class immigrants, who tend to be
less able to cope with Canadian labor market rules. Skilled worker immigrants
usually do not participate in these programs. Although a considerable number
of immigrants from the former Yugoslavia and South Asia came to Canada as
skilled workers, employment and settlement workers rarely counsel those im-
migrants because many of them are sufficiently familiar with the business con-
ventions and the rules of recruitment in Canada. One counselor explains: “The
vast majority of skilled people never see a settlement counselor. . . . They don’t
see what they could do here. My experience is that the immigrants who inte-
grate the best never seek settlement services.”
Responses to Labor Market Constraints

Habitus influences the manner in which immigrants respond to particular eco-
nomic and labor market circumstances.8 For many immigrants, especially those
who have been in Canada for less than a decade, the lack of financial resources
represents a condition that frames settlement and labor market decisions (Ley
1999). The response to this condition, however, varies among individuals, fami-
lies, and origin groups. To compensate for low incomes, some immigrant fami-
lies pool their resources and live in larger households (Hiebert and Ley 2001).
Other families respond by sending more family members into the labor mar-
ket. Although a large share of immigrants on entry into Canada declared that
they have no intention to work, interviewees suggested that many nevertheless
join the labor force shortly after their arrival. Statistical information confirms
this suggestion. Table 3.3 compares the percentages of immigrants who intended
to work at the point of entry with the actual labor market participation figures
after settlement.9 A higher percentage of female and male immigrants of both
origin groups entered the labor force than initially intended to do so.
The most dramatic difference between intended and actual labor force par-
ticipation exists in the case of South Asian women. At the time of their ar-
RULES TO WORK BY 71
TABLE 3.3. Intention to Work at Landing and Actual Labor Force Participation,
1986–1996 Immigrants, 1996 (in percentages)
Intention to Actual Labor

Work at Landing Force Participation
No intention In labor force

Intend to (worked or Not in
to work work/student Total unemployed) labor force Total
Former Yugoslavia
Male 68.9 31.1 100 77.4 22.6 100
Female 58.8 41.2 100 72.1 27.9 100
South Asia
Male 65.4 34.6 100 89.2 10.8 100
Female 24.2 75.8 100 70.7 29.3 100
Source: Longitudinal Immigration Data System (2003); Public Use Microdata File
(Statistics Canada 2001).
rival, fewer than 24 percent of South Asian immigrant women who entered
Canada between 1986 and 1996 intended to work. By 1996, when the census
was taken, 71 percent of this cohort were in the labor force. Several inter-
viewees observed a reversal of gender roles as a consequence of migration from
South Asia to Canada. A settlement counselor, for example, explains that many
immigrant families never intended for the woman to be the breadwinner of
the household:
Surprisingly, women get settled earlier than men. Maybe women are more
flexible, they are determined to do whatever comes their way, but men are
not very flexible. Back home, usually in India, women don’t work outside,
they just stay home and take care of children, and men are the only bread-
winners at home. . . . When they come here, they have some kind of ex-
pectation. . . . But mostly I’ve seen women start working before men, and
at that point, actually, comes the role reversal in that family, because the
woman is working, the man is sitting at home taking care of the children
and doing nothing at all because it is not his job to do the dishes, to cook
food, and this and that.
Nonworking men are probably the exception rather than the rule. The data in
Table 3.3 clearly show that South Asian immigrant men also participate at a
higher rate in the labor market than they initially intended. However, a general
transformation of gender roles in South Asian immigrant families was confirmed
by other interviewees, and several interviewees shared the impression that South
Asian immigrant women are drawn into the Canadian labor force more quickly
than men. Several respondents emphasized that the shift in gender roles is a result
of a gendered Canadian job market. Not unlike the previous interviewee, who
suggested that women are “more flexible” than men, an employment counse-
lor comments on the demand for women in administrative and retail occupa-
tions: “We [in Canada] have this huge pool of administrative jobs, and retail
jobs, which tend to take more women, at a low pay. But you know there’s a lot
more jobs open, there’s a lot warmer reception for women applying for those
jobs than for men. So suddenly now, a lot of the wives are going out and work-
ing, and the men are looking after the kids and taking them to school and that’s
a real blow for a lot of families.” The demand for immigrant women in lower-
tier administrative and service jobs likely relates to their attractiveness as rela-
tively cheap, flexible, and diligent labor. Given their previous role in the family
and inexperience in paid employment, their wage demands, career goals, and
workplace expectations are lower than those of their male counterparts or of
nonmigrant women. Immigrant women constitute a workforce that seamlessly
integrates into the secondary segment of the labor market.
This labor market role for female immigrants from South Asia is not unique
to Vancouver. In Great Britain, for example, South Asian women participate in
the labor market at the same rate as nonmigrant women (Bhachu 1991). Their
participation is particularly important when men are unable to support the fam-
ily due to unemployment or employment in low-wage jobs (West and Pilgrim
1995). To play these new economic roles, however, requires the renegotiation
of patriarchic relationships in the family and the adoption of different norms
of women’s relationship to paid work within the family and the community
(Evans and Bowlby 2000). The pressure to provide a family income leads fami-
lies to the transformation of gender and labor market conventions. Wives are
now working alongside husbands, who find that one income is insufficient to
provide for the family.
In the case of immigrants from the former Yugoslavia, gender roles are also
rescripted with immigration to Canada. Several interview respondents reported
that, in contrast to South Asian women, female immigrants from the former
Yugoslavia struggle with greater gender inequality in the Canadian labor mar-
ket than in the former Yugoslavia. A settlement counselor remarks that many
newly arriving female immigrants from the former Yugoslavia expect to be
treated equally as men, and they do “not comprehend why women have differ-
ent wages than men. This was not so in the former Yugoslavia.” Similarly, an
immigration lawyer explains, “For example, 50 percent of graduates in Belgrade
and Novi Sad were women. That’s very different than Canada. There is no stigma
to [a high-status occupation] being a male profession in Yugoslavia. Even the
women with families behave in that way.”
RULES TO WORK BY 73
Although female immigrants from the former Yugoslavia are conscious of

their subordinate role in the Canadian labor market, the data suggest that they
do not withdraw from the labor market in response to these gender inequali-
ties. Rather, their actual labor force participation is considerably higher than
their initial intention to work at the time of arrival (Table 3.3). A likely expla-
nation is that the pressure for an additional income in the family persuades
women to enter the labor market even in subordinate positions. They accept
their subordinate roles and make their labor available to Vancouver’s employ-
ers below its actual value.
In addition to financial hardship, another important condition that frames
immigrants’ labor market decisions is their constrained access to the Canadian
labor market. Immigrants respond to this barrier with different strategies. One
strategy used by many South Asian family-class immigrants is the mobilization
of ethnicity-based networks. An employment counselor notes, “Immigrants,
especially from South Asian countries, who are coming here, had a great net-
work right from their neighbor to their own extended family. Everybody around
them helps each other. . . . They keep themselves busy, they network and find
out other information, and sometimes they get together and invite speakers to
get further information, what’s available around them. And you know, it’s one
of the things that networks help.” The need to rely on ethnic networks arises
from the inability to interpret and follow Canadian norms of labor market be-
havior. For example, a South Asian entrepreneur recalls the difficulties he had
in gaining access to a network of Canadian businesspeople because he did not
follow the “proper” rules of networking: “If I don’t look the same, if I don’t talk
the same, socially, and I don’t follow the Vancouver Canucks, in other words, I
don’t follow ice hockey, I follow cricket, all those things are differentiators be-
tween us [i.e., Canadian businesspeople and South Asian immigrants].”10 Ac-
cording to this same respondent, a network of South Asian entrepreneurs has
provided alternative business opportunities for him. What makes ethnic net-
works attractive and beneficial to South Asian immigrants is that they share a
common habitus within the network.
Previous research suggests that networks among South Asian immigrants in
Vancouver draw on shared language, mutual comfort levels, and a common
understanding of trust (Walton-Roberts and Hiebert 1997). Several respondents
confirmed that South Asian immigrant workers benefit from working along-
side coethnic colleagues with whom they can communicate in Punjabi and who
observe similar rules of engagement. An employer who uses an existing ethnic
network to hire South Asian immigrants as farmworkers observes: “Lots of them
[South Asian workers] are very happy working here. It’s a social thing, if they’re
working with other people that make them happy, we’ve got lots that have been
here three generations. . . . They’re happy, they’re totally happy! You think of
yourself, if you don’t like the people you’re working with, you’re out of there.
Like, the people you’re working with is as important as the job itself.” Although
this statement clearly reflects the viewpoint of the employer, a settlement coun-
selor qualifies this claim by describing what this work actually entails: “It’s long
hours, and you’re ready at about 4:00 in the morning. [Employers] start pick-
ing them up [on Vancouver’s South Side], and be there by 6 or 7 whatever. And
last drop-off is 9:00, sometimes 10:00. For some of them I have talked with it
seemed very hard, but some say, at least they have a company there they can
talk with, they feel they’re free and they’re like back home in the fields.”
Although this respondent still romanticizes the ethnic collegiality at the
workplace, she emphasizes the harsh working conditions these jobs entail. The
ethnic networks of South Asian immigrants often produce employment oppor-
tunities with unfavorable working conditions, as farm labor, helpers in small
businesses, or sweatshop labor. An employment counselor explains that many
South Asian immigrants find jobs “in the Punjabi community. A lot of the lower-
level educated people would be looking for warehouse jobs [and] more manual,
more physical, labor-intensive type of jobs. For instance, dishwashing, where it
doesn’t require a lot of computer skills and to be very articulate. [The character
of their work] is physical, it’s not multitask.”
The benefits and consequences of ethnic networking and occupational con-
centration is perhaps best illustrated by the “taxi driver phenomenon,” which
refers to the high proportion of South Asians in the taxi business.11 The South
Asian manager of a taxi operation proclaims proudly, “We are the people that
drive taxis.” He remarks that he does not actively recruit South Asian drivers;
his drivers come to his company through referrals from their own ethnic net-
work. Other South Asian drivers “tell their friends that we assist you” if they
join their ranks. Immigrant service organizations confirmed that they do not
channel South Asian immigrants into the taxi business: “They have their own
network.” An employment counselor suggests that South Asian entrepreneurs
and managers recruit drivers through their ethnic networks: “If you look at who
owns most of the taxi business, you’d find a lot of South Asians which own a lot
of the taxis, so [the high concentration of South Asians] is probably tied to [the]
ownership.” The personal referrals through ethnic networks circumvent the for-
mal recruitment process, including résumé writing and job interviews. In addi-
tion, a critical mass of coethnic workers enables the use of rules of conduct shared
by the South Asian community, which may further attract South Asian immigrants
to the industry. These labor market strategies deployed by the Vancouver South
Asian community are not unique to Greater Vancouver. The South Asia taxi driver
phenomenon, for example, is also known in other Canadian, U.S., and British
cities.12 These strategies constitute more general processes of segmentation, fun-
neling immigrant labor into occupational and industrial niches.
Unlike many South Asians, immigrants from the former Yugoslavia lack
strong family networks. Most of them arrived as skilled workers or refugees, not
RULES TO WORK BY 75
as family-class immigrants, and their ethnic community is small and fragmented

because of the civil war in the Balkans. Consequently, their social and ethnic
networks are not as developed as that of South Asians. A settlement counselor
and immigrant from the former Yugoslavia explains: “We are not organized in
Canada, we don’t have any club, just Croatian people, they have the Cultural
Center, but Muslim people, Serbian people, they do not have that.” Relatively
few immigrants from the former Yugoslavia find jobs through ethnic and so-
cial networks. The employers I interviewed confirmed that they rarely receive
job applications through referrals from coethnic workers.
Moreover, the interviews revealed that job-search networking is an unfamiliar
employment strategy to many newcomers from the former Yugoslavia, particu-
larly those who came as refugees. Hiring practices that existed in the former Yu-
goslavia typically relied on formal qualifications and institutional networks rather
than personal and social networks. Once in Canada, immigrants are reluctant to
draw on their personal contacts to secure employment. One interviewee notes that
newcomers question the validity of personal references: “Here people ask you:
‘Do you have [a] reference?’ We wouldn’t do that in our country . . . you shouldn’t
say that you know somebody [who will vouch for you].” In the eyes of many
immigrants from the former Yugoslavia, the use of personal references violates
the rules of proper labor market engagement. Another respondent explains that
humility and modesty, rather than personal advertisement, are seen as appropri-
ate behavior: “We don’t know how to sell ourselves, . . . present ourselves in a good
way. This is totally out of our culture; you are not allowed to say something nice
about yourself. If you are nice, I will say that. You don’t have to tell me. If you
have to tell me, obviously you are not. It is a shame to say ‘Yes, I am good, I have
good computer skills.’” Another respondent agrees: “Nobody networked in that
same sense in Yugoslavia. You had much more of a system of [professional] con-
nections. And you developed a network based on that, as opposed to a network
based on social relationships that could get you into [a] position.”
Although immigrants from the former Yugoslavia do not use ethnic networks
to an extended degree in their job searches, some of them do have preferences
that favor employment in certain occupations. Building manager, for example,
was mentioned by several interviewees as a preferred occupation, especially
among refugees.13 For many refugees from the former Yugoslavia, employment
benefits are an attractive feature in a job, and a job as building manager often
comes with the benefit of free housing. One respondent links this preference to
the historical experiences of the group:
In smaller towns [of the former Yugoslavia] it’s absolutely unheard of that
you own your own apartment. Your company owns the apartment. So, if
you work for your whole life for the car manufacturing plant, say, in Zenica,
or Tuzla, you’ve gotten your apartment through them, you have your health
care covered through them, you have your children’s education guaran-
teed to some degree from that state enterprise, so you’re getting tangible
benefits apart from remuneration from the company. So, even though your
pay may be bad, you have other benefits that you’re looking at. So, if you
come from that sort of culture and you come to a city where rent is typi-
cally high, [like] here in Vancouver, [a job in which] you get free rent,
guaranteed, as a benefit, that’s very attractive right away.
Place of origin and associated practices guide initial employment preferences,

but these preferences likely change with the length of time spent in Canada. An
immigration worker remarks that many building managers from the former
Yugoslavia “attend courses in English or in some computer courses, and after a
while, probably five years or something, they get another job.” They also attend
job-finding clubs to master the rules of recruitment, including the interview
process, and seek to move into other occupations. Building manager becomes
a transitory occupation as immigrants upgrade their credentials, internalize local
behavioral norms, and familiarize themselves with the rules of the hiring pro-
cess. Until they are assimilated, however, they fulfill a particular function in the
lower segments of Vancouver’s labor market.
Conclusion
The unfamiliarity with the rules of the Canadian labor market constitutes an
important barrier for newcomers. It has the effect that many immigrants are
either unemployed or relegated to the secondary segment of the labor market.
This barrier, however, is contingent on immigrant class. Rigid conventions of
the job application and interviewing processes, for example, tend to disadvan-
tage refugees and family-class immigrants, who are on average less familiar with
the rules of proper behavior and personal engagement. Immigrants who entered
Canada under the skilled workers program are less affected. Apparently, Canada’s
system of selecting immigrants on the basis of immigrant classes (which distin-
guishes among immigrants with high levels of skills and education, immigrants
in humanitarian need, and immigrants of families who settled in Canada at an
earlier time) also distinguishes between immigrants who are able to culturally
navigate the Canadian labor market successfully and immigrants who lack this
ability. On the surface, Canada’s skilled workers program appears to select immi-
grants on the basis of human capital. However, the program also chooses immi-
grants whose habitus is more compatible with the Canadian labor market.
Although immigrants from South Asia and the former Yugoslavia both ex-
perience significant constraints in Vancouver’s labor market, the two groups
respond to these constraints with different strategies. These strategies are em-
bedded in the habitus related to origin and immigrant class. South Asian family-
RULES TO WORK BY 77
class immigrants employ ethnic networks as a labor market strategy. These net-
works, however, tend to lead to marginal employment in niche industries. Im-
migrants from the former Yugoslavia, on the other hand, do not have access to
such networks and are reluctant to use personal references in their job search.
However, many immigrants from the former Yugoslavia confront difficulties
in mastering the cultural conventions of the hiring process, which foreclose
access to the full spectrum of occupations in the mainstream labor market. In
addition, many refugees from the former Yugoslavia have employment prefer-
ences in secondary occupations to which they attribute favorable characteris-
tics, such as building manager, which provides free housing. Group-particular
employment strategies contribute to the segmentation of immigrant groups into
occupational and industrial niches. This role of filling labor market niches—
especially when these niches are in the secondary labor market—is an impor-
tant element of the regulation of Vancouver’s labor market.
Although immigrant and nonimmigrant workers formally enjoy almost equal
access to the Canadian labor market and may be equally competent to do a given
job, processes related to habitus and informal rules of engagement often dis-
advantage immigrant workers relative to nonimmigrant Canadian workers,
pushing immigrants into subordinate positions. Where formal processes of
subordination fail or are absent, social and cultural processes take over this func-
tion. The next chapter takes a more detailed look at how processes of cultural
distinction link to occupational segmentation and origin of immigrants.
◆ 4
CULTURAL JUDGMENTS
No one would seriously argue that South Asian men drive taxis because of
their navigational superiority or that South Asian women are preternaturally
inclined to sew. However, cultural representations of a more subtle nature are
a common ideological tool to organize the labor market and match immigrants
with particular jobs. Stereotypical perceptions of the cultural characteristics of
immigrant workers can typecast immigrants into certain occupations. Yet, cul-
tural labor market processes typically involve more than stereotypes. They include
processes of social and cultural distinction aimed at reproducing prevailing labor
market structures. In other words, the subordination of immigrants in the
labor market elevates nonimmigrants into a position of relative superiority.
Cultural judgments differ from the processes involving norms and conventions
discussed in the previous chapter. The latter relate to internal, group-particular
structures of engagement and prioritization that guide the behavior of immigrants.
The former, on the other hand, involve the external representation of immigrants
by nonimmigrants. Though conceptually distinct, the two processes are related
in the manner in which they occur in the everyday. Group-particular norms and
conventions often provide the basis for critical judgment by people outside the
group. Emphasizing processes of cultural judgment links the segmentation of
immigrant labor to the forces of social reproduction. It does not simply attribute
segmentation to the characteristics of immigrants themselves.
The focus in this chapter is on representation of embodied cultural markers
and performances, such as clothing and speech patterns.1 I use the example of
South Asian immigrants to examine how exactly these characteristics relate to
the segmentation of immigrant labor.2 The human body can be seen “as a sur-
face of inscription” (McDowell and Sharpe 1997: 3) that is subject to the read-
ing and interpretation of employers and other labor market actors. It creates
distinct labor market identities for South Asian immigrants that imply a special
suitability for certain occupations. For example, one respondent remarked that
CULTURAL JUDGMENTS 79
the concierge of the office building in which she worked as a consultant asked
her to sign the janitor’s book every day. Office workers are usually not asked to
sign this book. However, as a South Asian woman, she was judged to be a jani-
tor rather than a white-collar professional. Apparently, the concierge used the
woman’s physical attributes as a signifier for occupation.
This South Asian worker had obviously made a choice to become a self-
employed consultant. However, if employers, employment counselors, and
educators make associations similar to the concierge’s between corporeal ap-
pearance and occupational suitability, then South Asian immigrants who seek
employment may be guided into janitorial work or other occupations in the
secondary labor market. In this chapter, I examine how representations of the
body link to the integration of South Asian immigrants in the Vancouver labor
market, how these representations segment immigrants into particular occu-
pations, and how the geography of origin influences this process.
Corporeal Representation and the Labor Market

When Wallis Simpson, the Duchess of Windsor, allegedly said, “One can never
really be too thin or too rich,” she expressed how intimately representations of
the body and social status are intertwined with each other. Being thin becomes
as much a symbol of class as having money; being overweight denies access to
the image of cultural refinement. As I discussed in chapter 2, embodied charac-
teristics, including weight norms, are a form of cultural capital. This embodied
cultural capital expresses value in the form of bodily symbolism (Bourdieu 1986;
Bourdieu and Passeron 1977). Some corporeal markers and performances are
valorized to elevate the status of those people and groups in possession of these
characteristics; other markers and performances are devalued to subordinate
people carrying them. These processes of valorization and devaluation require
a code through which characteristics of the body are interpreted.
The institutions of the labor market, including the workplace and the edu-
cational system, rely on these codes as organizing principles. Moreover, this
organizing principle is usually accepted as natural without questioning the
underlying cultural and political motivations, which usually have nothing to
do with workplace performance. “In the factory as in the school,” explains
Bourdieu (1984: 387), “workers encounter legitimate culture as a principle of
order which does not need to demonstrate its practical utility in order to be jus-
tified.” Embodied cultural capital orders the labor market based on measures of
cultural distinction rather than ability or competence. In the careers section of a
popular newspaper, for example, an image consultant explains the importance of
corporeal representation in the workplace and the hiring process: “People like to
communicate with someone that looks professional. . . . Even in a hiring situa-
tion, when all things are equal, it often does come down to image—the way a
person moves, walks, and speaks” (MacNair 2000: J3). The movement, walk,
and speech of job applicants signify to employers whether or not a person is
culturally suitable for employment. Likewise, business consultant and psycholo-
gist Jeffrey Magee advises the readers of the workplace section of one of Canada’s
largest newspapers, “If you are slovenly dressed, the expectation [among em-
ployers] is that you will have a cavalier attitude” (quoted in Prashad 2003: D23).
In a similar vein, an entrepreneur writes in a letter to advice columnist Ann
Landers: “I would not hire anyone with tattoos or body piercings, no matter
how smart, educated and responsible. That person is making a statement, and
it says, ‘I don’t care what you think. I will do whatever I want’” (Vancouver Sun,
Sept. 11, 2000: B12). Although having a tattoo or piercing is highly unlikely to
obstruct workers in their ability to complete a given work task, these markers
express to the employer that a worker is culturally ill suited for employment.
The physical appearance of pierced and tattooed workers affects their position
Similar processes affect the labor market situation of immigrants. Their bodily
markers often obstruct or enable access to certain occupations and thereby
contribute to the occupational segmentation of immigrant labor. In the case of
South Asian immigrants in Vancouver, physical attributes signify cultural com-
petence for labor market participation. A leader of the South Asian commu-
nity, who was born and raised in Canada and occasionally wears the traditional
sari,3 explains, “When I wear [the] sari . . . I have noticed, when you go out
somewhere, people look at you sometimes. . . . We think they are looking at us
because we’re new people, Punjabis.” To employers, the sari often triggers anxi-
ety about the unknown and suggests that women are inexperienced in the Ca-
nadian labor market. The idea that clothing style shapes the chances for success
in the search of employment was supported by other interviewees. An employ-
ment program coordinator, for example, recalls her own experience of being
asked in a job interview whether she would consider wearing blue jeans instead
of the sari. Although this particular incident dates back several years, it illus-
trates the general importance of embodied cultural capital in the labor market.
Even smell can signify cultural competence or incompetence to employers.
In some contexts, the association between scent and social standing is well-
known. Perfume, for example, should be worn and applied according to strict
codes that specify quantity, aroma, and proper occasion. In the labor market,
this type of embodied cultural capital can play a decisive role. An employment
counselor who advises immigrants on job-interviewing skills explains that the
smells of some of his clients affect their chances of success during the interview:
“Sometimes your clients, they smell. Right? And you need to address this with
them, and now that’s more difficult. . . . The client can really be very neat and
tidy and clean, but they just have that one little problem. . . . If they eat a lot of
garlic and a lot of raw onions, or a lot of sort of curried-type spice foods, which
a lot of our clients do, then that can have an effect [on the chances of getting
hired].”
Another important aspect of embodied cultural capital is language. Here, I’m
not referring merely to the inability to communicate effectively in English, which
is a common employment barrier for immigrants. Rather, I’m referring to ac-
cents that identify a worker as a member of a particular origin group. Respon-
dents noted that many South Asian immigrants speak English quite well but that
their pronunciation and accent often present an obstacle to being hired. For
example, several interviewees who were born in South Asia now work in non-
governmental organizations where they occasionally answer incoming phone
calls. They complained that callers who detect their accent frequently ask if they
can continue speaking in English. Although there are no apparent difficulties
in communication between the caller and the worker, the caller associates the
accent with a lack of language skills. An employment counselor presents the
following example, which illustrates how an Indian accent evokes an image of
language deficiency:
There was a lady, she used to own a school in Bombay, and [in] her school
they were teaching them English, no local languages at all. . . . When she
came here, she went to apply for one of the [job] training programs . . .
and she was asked to go to an ESL [English as a second language] test. And
her first language is English. And she was asked what is her first language
and she said English. And the person asked her a few times: “Oh, so what
is your native language, what is your birth language?” and she said “I grew
up speaking English and that’s what I have studied and this is my language.”
The “South Asian accent” symbolizes a lack of cultural competence and denies
many South Asian immigrants equality in the Vancouver labor market.
Vancouver’s immigration and settlement service institutions offer programs
that are designed precisely to address the issue of bodily performances that
disadvantage immigrants. Many institutions included in my survey offer lan-
guage courses and programs that familiarize new immigrants with the cultural
codes that dominate in the Vancouver labor market. For example, the Pro-
gressive Intercultural Community Services Society offers job-finding clubs.
An advertisement for this program promises participants that they will learn
job interview skills, including how to “greet the employer,” “shake hands,”
and “dress up for the interview.” This advertisement further notes that an
employer’s “first impression depends on . . . your posture, eye contact, atti-
tude [and] smile,” and that the program will teach participants appropriate
behavior. The United Chinese Community Enrichment Services Society also
offers job-finding clubs to immigrants, and the Immigration Services Society
of British Columbia addresses interview skills, cross-cultural communication,
and employers’ expectations in a similar program called CareerAxis@iss. These
institutions are well aware that bodily performances and styles signify labor
market readiness to employers.
As mentioned earlier, embodied cultural capital should not be confused with
habitual practices and behavior. It is not an exogenous, premarket variable.
Corporeal markers may be scripted onto immigrants’ bodies in their countries
of origin, but the codes to interpret these markers are written in Canada and
Vancouver, in the presence of the immigrants and in light of their particular
role in the local labor market. The workplace is a typical site where “embodied
‘cultural capital’ . . . is both consumed and produced” (Crang 1994: 693). The
interviews revealed that some workplaces actually reward the bodily markers
displayed by South Asian immigrants. In immigrant and settlement counsel-
ing, for example, non-Western styles, appearances, and accents indeed sig-
nify cultural competence to work with a non-Western clientele. Many of the
female employment and settlement counselors I interviewed wore saris, which
enhanced their credibility among coworkers, administrators, and clients to
serve a multicultural community. The workers in this industry were appar-
ently able to negotiate the acceptance of their embodied cultural capital.
This valorization of the sari as cultural asset parallels the commercialization
of “Asian chic” in North America and Europe (Jackson 2002: 13). For example,
the Indian sari and the Punjabi salwaar-kameez4 have been worn by fashion icons
such as Jennifer Lopez and Princess Diana and have infiltrated British popular
culture. The transnational South Asian community was able to reinvent the
meanings of traditional clothing to create hybrid identities that situate South
Asians in both Western and traditional contexts. The meanings attributed to
South Asian attire, however, are not universal. Outsiders to the ethnic commu-
nity have different perspectives of traditional clothing from members of the
community, and meanings vary between social and cultural settings (Bhachu
1993, 1997; Dwyer 1998, 2000). For example, one Vancouver respondent who
was born in India noted that the beauty of the sari “impresses people,” but she
acknowledged that she would wear a sari only in multicultural social settings or
at her workplace, an immigrant settlement service agency.
In the Vancouver labor market, the positive meaning associated with tradi-
tional South Asian clothing tends to be limited to particular workplaces, such
as immigrant and settlement counseling, that embrace multicultural ideologies.
In other workplaces, similar performances of cultural identity are less valued.
Many immigrants therefore drop their traditional styles and change their cor-
poreal performances, adopting styles that are more accepted in their places of
work. An employment counselor explains that abandoning traditional expres-
sions of culture is not a voluntary choice for her employment-seeking clients
but a concession to local labor market expectations: “Cultural adjustments are
huge [for immigrants who seek to establish themselves in the labor market]. A
lot of time for the community, even for what to wear. . . . Because traditional
dress sometimes is not accepted. So some women decide ‘I’m going to keep it,’
and they don’t find jobs, and some women decide they’re going to discard their
traditional way of dress, and they feel really bad about themselves.” In this case,
South Asian immigrants have little choice but to assimilate the corporeal con-
ventions of the Vancouver labor market. The fact that immigrants benefit from
wearing traditional clothing in some occupations but not in others illustrates
that different codes of cultural capital exist in different occupations. The next
section examines the corporeal conventions across occupations more closely.
Occupation as Social Field

As I mentioned in the previous chapter, a cultural symbol “has meaning and
interest only for someone who possesses the cultural competence, that is, the
code, into which it is encoded” (Bourdieu 1984: 2). These codes differ among
social fields. The social field refers to a “set of dynamic organizing principles,
ultimately maintained by social groups, which identify and structure particular
categories of social practices” (Shilling 1993: 138, original emphasis). Occupa-
tions demarcate distinct social fields, and within such occupational fields, some
cultural identities and corporeal performances are privileged over others. Thus,
the value attributed to particular cultural capital differs in different occupations.
If a worker lacks the cultural capital that is required in corporate banking, he or
she may still possess the cultural competence to work as a waiter or waitress or
on the shop floor.
The previous discussion revealed that the sari worn by South Asian women
is an asset in immigrant and settlement counseling but is less valuable or even
harmful in other occupations. For Orthodox Sikh men, the turban is a distin-
guishing bodily inscription that separates them from other ethnic and religious
groups. The interpretation of the turban varies between social and historical
contexts. For example, although Sikh veterans were excluded from a Remem-
brance Day celebration because their turban supposedly violated the Royal
Canadian Legion’s dress code, some Sikh entrepreneurs strategically deploy the
turban as a symbol of integrity and community solidarity (Walton-Roberts 1998,
1999).5 The interviews suggest that the turban assumes a range of meanings in
different occupational fields of the Vancouver labor market. In many occupations,
the turban is a barrier to employment. An employment counselor stresses, “Cer-
tain employers . . . they feel that certain types of persons who are wearing tur-
bans, they are not a part of their team, they won’t be a part of their team.” In the
security business, on the other hand, the turban can be an asset. A job trainer
explains that in the security business, wearing a turban implies that those indi-
viduals will “be true to their work . . . be faithful to the others . . . and be support-
ive to the others. So, these are the qualities [men wearing turbans] should have. . . .
It’s positive in the security [business], because [employers] feel they are more
faithful. They take it as a positive.” The respondent suggests that employers in

some industries have learned to value the turban as a symbol of integrity and
reliability. Other respondents confirmed that the Sikh community has gained a
reputation for providing outstanding security guards, and the turban has be-
come a corporeal symbol for competence in this occupation. The public vis-
ibility of the turban in the workplace has helped entrench the association
between corporeal symbol and occupation (Figures 4.1 and 4.2).
The South Asian accent is another symbol that is valued differently across
occupational fields. For example, a trained librarian could not get a job in a
Vancouver library: “I never got a job in my own profession because of my ac-
cent. At one of the organizations I was just told that people just won’t under-
stand you on the phone. . . . I have worked at many, many libraries here [in
Vancouver] as a volunteer, but not as a paid librarian.” In the interview this
respondent demonstrated her superb English skills and her ability to commu-
nicate effectively, although her distinct accent revealed her South Asian origin.
In her case, the accent, rather than lack of communication skills, excluded her
from employment as librarian. Likewise, in some service occupations the em-
ployees are supposed to represent a particular image supported by the employ-
ing institution. In these occupations, an accent is often grounds for rejecting a
job applicant. For example, an employer who has hired South Asian immigrants
FIGURE 4.1. Security guard in Vancouver’s Chinatown (Photo by Harald Bauder)

FIGURE 4.2. Taxi driver at Vancouver International Airport (Photo by Harald Bauder)
in the past remarks that his customers do not appreciate employees who speak
with an accent.
In other occupations, however, an accent is not a large obstacle to employ-
ment. In the taxi business, for example, customers “are very forgiving of En-
glish skills that are not as good.” The manager of a taxi company remarks: “Every
one of [our drivers’] pattern of English is not very good in terms of grammar
and also vocabulary, and the sounds of speaking is different . . . accent, also.
Even if they try very hard, still it’s always there. I think it’s generally acceptable
in taxi industry. They are doing much better than many people in other parts
[of the labor market].”
The meaning and value of corporeal style and symbolism differ among oc-
cupational fields. In some occupations, South Asian immigrants can gain an
advantage based on the symbolic meanings they embody. In other occupations,
they are disadvantaged because the meaning of the same corporeal attributes is
different. If the career decisions of immigrants are influenced by the associa-
tion between body style and occupational competence on the part of employ-
ers, employment counselors, and educators, then embodied cultural capital
contributes to the occupational segmentation of immigrants. The function of
occupation as a social field is an important component of the segmentation
process.
Contingencies of Cultural Capital

Cultural meanings and corporeal symbols are not timeless. In the fashion in-
dustry, for example, corporeal ideals are subject to continuous change and “cre-
ative redefinition” (Bourdieu 1984: 151). In the modeling occupation, body
types come into and go out of fashion. The Venus of Willendorf, the Stone Age
sculpture and one-time fertility symbol, is unlikely to impress the editors of
Vogue today. Changes in the interpretation of bodily markers have also occurred
in the Vancouver labor market regarding the style embodied by immigrants.
The exclusion of workers from particular occupations because they wear tradi-
tional clothing has diminished over the past two decades. Corporeal symbols
such as clothing style and speech patterns have been revalued and are accepted
in an increasing number of workplaces. For example, the taxi business man-
ager who was mentioned in the previous chapter remarked that South Asian
accents are now more accepted by his clients and in his business in general than
they were twenty years ago. In fact, in some occupations, as illustrated earlier,
corporeal markers of South Asians can be an advantage.
The interpretation of corporeal symbols also varies geographically. The
Duchess of Windsor’s success formula of being thin would not work on some
Pacific islands, where large size can be a symbol of status and power. The cre-
ation and maintenance of the encoding scheme of corporeal symbolism is a
place-particular process. What may be a valuable symbol in a particular local
labor market may be interpreted negatively in another place. For example, the
embodied performances of some gay men may be an asset for getting a job as a
waiter in Manhattan, but in Queens it is a barrier (Zukin 1995: 153–185). Like-
wise, the interpretation of traditional South Asian clothing is geographically
contingent. The complex cultural meanings that the sari assumes in India are
often invisible to the Western observer (Visweswaran 1994: 166–177). In addi-
tion, South Asian migrant communities negotiate the meanings of their tradi-
tional attire in relation to local social and political circumstances. Punjabi suits,
for example, “have a local specificity and are locally interpreted” (Bhachu 1996:
287; see also Bhachu 1993, 1997).
The space-contingent nature of valued cultural capital is problematic for
many South Asian immigrants in Vancouver. Although a diverse group, South
Asians share the frustration of not always possessing the embodied characteris-
tics that are appreciated in the Vancouver labor market.6 Echoing Bourdieu’s
writing on cultural capital, an employment counselor uses the term “cultural
competence” to suggest that immigrants have no choice but to perform West-
ern corporeal roles if they want to be accepted in the local labor market. He
explains that his clients struggle with local protocol of bodily performance:
Counselor: Here, in the Western culture, [the handshake] is a normal thing,
eye contact, and so this is a change for them, in terms of the confidence
building. . . . We do a comparative analysis with the client, how things are

done back in their country, and how things are done here. . . . We have
some exercises that we have them do and just let them realize that there
are some cultural differences, and things that may be okay in their coun-
try may not be okay here and vice versa. So we try to make them aware of
these differences. That’s why the thing about the handshake and the eye
contact, and greeting people and that kind of thing. It may sound very trite
but it’s a reality for them.
Harald Bauder: And employers would shy away from hiring anyone who
doesn’t . . .
Counselor: Who’s not culturally competent, follow protocol, that kind of
thing, yes!
In individual occupations, the protocol of proper performance also changes
according to geographical context. An earlier interview excerpt revealed that the
accent of a South Asian immigrant excluded her from employment in Vancouver’s
libraries. This same respondent notes that her accent did not keep her from work-
ing in other places: “I worked in New York in [a] library. Nobody ever told me
that they did not understand me. I was in India in the Supreme Court Library,
I was a reference librarian there, and I was at the desk because I could speak
English, and we used to have a lot of foreigners for research work. And I was the
one always dealing with that because I could speak with them very easily. No-
body, nobody ever told me they didn’t understand. Even now [in Vancouver],
you know, when I ask ‘Did you understand me?’ Nobody says, no, they didn’t
understand me.” The South Asian accent apparently discredits this respondent’s
competence as a librarian in the context of Vancouver, but not New York or
India.
The spatial contingency of embodied cultural capital highlights the impor-
tance of place of origin and migration history in the context of labor market
integration of immigrants. All immigrants from South Asia do not experience
the same disadvantages in the Vancouver labor market. Many South Asian fami-
lies have been transnational migrants for generations, such as the large number
of South Asian immigrants who lived in Fiji prior to settling in Vancouver. These
immigrants tend to “possess considerable expertise in the management of their
minority status, in the reconstruction of their ethnicities, and in the negotia-
tion of their cultural systems” (Bhachu 1996: 288). In the Vancouver labor
market, immigrant groups have occasionally been able to reshape their identi-
ties (L. L. Wong and Ng 2002) and negotiate the valorization of their own em-
bodied cultural capital. Many of the interviewees who participated in the study
were themselves immigrants and contributed to the legitimation of their own
physical appearance in immigrant and settlement counseling. A job training
specialist who certifies security guards illustrates how South Asian immigrants
have actively participated in the cultivation of the turban as a positive symbol

in the security industry: “Now one thing you will see in our community, the
person having turban and beard, if he does anything wrong, if he smokes, if he
does anything wrong with any lady, if he breaks in or make anything wrong.
Our people, those who have beard or turban, they will ask him to cut his beard
and [take] off his turban.” This interviewee was particularly proud that his own
ethnic group, Punjabi immigrants, have a strong presence in the security in-
dustry and that the turban has become a symbol of integrity and reliability.
Nevertheless, this positive reading of the turban has not yet leaped into other
occupations or into the labor market as a whole. For the time being, it contrib-
utes to the occupational segmentation of South Asian immigrant labor.
The capacity of immigrants to shape, let alone redefine, local interpretations
of embodied cultural capital is very limited. Newly arriving and smaller immi-
grant groups are especially vulnerable and unlikely to influence existing corpo-
real conventions and protocols. Furthermore, immigrants who come directly
from South Asia, with little or no previous migration and settlement experi-
ence, may lack the expertise in identity politics that more transient migrants
have. Many family-class immigrants from Punjab are caught off guard by the
judgments cast on their bodies and corporeal performances in Canada.
Conclusion
The corporeal styles and performances of some South Asian immigrants can
signify cultural suitability for some occupations, such as security guard, taxi
operator, and immigrant counselor, but not for other occupations, such as li-
brarian. Although the evidence presented does not quantify the relationship
between cultural representation and occupational segmentation, interviewees
suggested that many hiring decisions of Vancouver employers are influenced
by cultural judgments of the body. In addition, other labor market actors, such
as educators and customers, likely cast cultural judgments on immigrants and
clients and thus participate in the cultural classification of these workers. Rep-
resentations of the body therefore help produce the occupational segmentation
of labor.
The spatial contingency of corporeal symbols puts immigrants in a particu-
larly precarious situation. Their corporeal styles and performances are often
geared toward the local labor markets in their places of origin. Family-class
immigrants from rural areas—whose habitus tend to be particularly distant from
prevailing local cultural conventions in Vancouver, as we saw in the previous
chapter—are relatively easy to distinguish from the nonimmigrant population
through cultural symbols, including corporeal markers and performances. These
processes of cultural distinction are important forces in the social regulation of
labor markets. They signify cultural unreadiness for some occupations, such as
librarian and other skilled occupations, and reduce the chances for employment
in these occupations. At the same time, they open opportunities in lower-wage
occupations such as taxi driving and work in security.
Habitus, labor market rules, and cultural judgments are complementary
pieces in the puzzle of the cultural subordination and segmentation of immi-
grants in the labor market of Vancouver. The picture, however, is not yet com-
plete. In addition to these processes, institutional cultural capital contributes
to the segmentation of immigrant labor. The next chapter discusses the institu-
tional devaluation of immigrant labor.
◆ 5
INSTITUTIONALIZED LABOR DEVALUATION
At the 2004 Law and Diversity Conference in Toronto on the accreditation of

foreign-trained immigrants in Canada, speaker Naomi Alboim called Canadian
immigration policy “one of seduction and abandonment.”1 Seduction because
skilled workers are selected as immigrants based on their high levels of educa-
tion and experience, which leads them to expect that they will be able to apply
these skills and experience in the Canadian labor market. Abandonment because,
once in Canada, the immigrant workers receive little help with the accredita-
tion of their education and professional certification, preventing them from
applying their skills. Immigrants in regulated trades and professions such as the
electrical trade, engineering, law, medicine, nursing, and teaching often lose ac-
cess to the occupations they previously held—an effect commonly known as “de-
skilling.” The abandonment of immigrants is not simply the result of inadvertent
neglect and the failure of policy. It can also be interpreted as a systematic process
of distinction and subordination. By excluding many skilled, foreign-trained
immigrants from high-status occupations in Canada, the regulation of educational
and professional credentials enables domestic-educated workers to dominate
these occupations.
The level of education among Canadian immigrants has steadily increased
since the 1950s (Akabari 1999). Nevertheless, immigrants have failed to benefit
from their educational attainments and have lower returns on their education
than Canadian-born workers (Reitz 2001a, 2001b). Level of education, in fact,
fails as an accurate predictor of labor market performance among immigrants
(E. N. Thompson 2000). Similarly, the benefits immigrants receive for foreign
work experience have deteriorated. In the 1960s, one year of foreign work ex-
perience was rewarded with an average 1.5 percent increase in earnings for
immigrants. By the late 1990s, this wage increase dropped to only 0.3 percent
(Statistics Canada 2004: 5). Furthermore, skilled immigrants require an increas-
ing amount of time to catch up with the wages of Canadian workers with simi-
INSTITUTIONALIZED LABOR DEVALUATION 91
lar skills and education, if they catch up at all (Ley 1999). These national trends
also apply to immigrants in Vancouver. Three-fourths of all immigrant profes-
sionals from India who settled in Vancouver experienced occupational down-
ward mobility after their arrival in Canada. In the majority of cases, occupational
status decline results from the devaluation of immigrants’ foreign credentials
(Basran and Zong 1998).
Regulatory Bodies
The Canadian Information Centre for International Credentials (CICIC; 2002)
lists several dozen regulated occupations that require licensing by professional
bodies. These professional bodies operate at the provincial level. Provincial
governments provide a legislative framework but leave practical aspects of licens-
ing to private professional associations. The membership of these associations
consists primarily of people who were previously certified by the associations. The
qualification criteria for a professional license supposedly ensure the quality of
craftsmanship and the safety and health of customers and workers. However,
professional associations may also seek to reproduce their own membership. They
may manipulate the licensing criteria in such a manner that a controlled stream
of people gains access to the profession while others remain excluded, thus re-
ducing competition. Professional associations control the labor market of their
profession as much as they uphold professional standards and practices.
Professional credentials can be considered a form of institutionalized cul-
tural capital. The criteria of who will be endowed with this form of capital and
who will be prevented from obtaining it is not only a technical but also a politi-
cal process. The cultural requirements for medical professional status, for ex-
ample, have been continually redefined over the past century, from being a
“gentleman” to possessing managerial and entrepreneurial credentials. Perspec-
tives of professionalism are the product of “cultural battles [that] indicate who
is considered highly skilled and who is not . . . [and] what is considered cul-
tural capital and what is not” (Hanlon 1998: 47). From this viewpoint, profes-
sional groups, including workers in medicine, law, engineering, and nursing,
are cultural communities that engage in practices of cultural inclusion and ex-
clusion to ensure their own reproduction. The entry requirements to these com-
munities are controlled by an institutional infrastructure that consists largely
of professional associations but also includes the state and corporate manage-
ment, which support the professional associations. These institutions function
as the gatekeepers of professionalism and define entry qualifications according
to their own cultural biases and interests.
Excluding immigrants from professional licensing serves the dual purpose
of limiting competition within the profession as well as maintaining the cul-
tural integrity of the membership.2 These objectives are achieved through the
devaluation of credentials obtained abroad and the valorization of education,

training, and experience obtained in Canada. Rigorous accreditation procedures
and biased certification processes are a clever way to distinguish between Cana-
dian and immigrant labor and to distribute the privilege of professional employ-
ment unevenly between the two groups. Although newly arriving immigrants may
be endowed with the same level and quality of education and similar work expe-
rience as Canadian-educated professionals, they are often excluded from prac-
ticing the occupation simply because they were trained outside of Canada.
Credential Assessment
The specific requirements for licensing in terms of education and experience
vary among occupations.3 Some of the toughest requirements are imposed
on the medical profession. The Medical Council of Canada requires foreign-
educated professionals to pass a written exam and, in most cases, obtain an ad-
ditional two to six years of training (Health Canada 2002). Provincial health
regulation bodies impose further requirements. Other occupations that are
provincially regulated include law, nursing, social work, and teaching. The Reg-
istered Nurses Association of British Columbia (2002) requires a passing grade
on the Canadian Nurse Registration Examination and, in addition, judges ap-
plicants on the basis of education, competence, and evidence of “good charac-
ter” and “fitness to practice.” Additional requirements for the recognition of
professional credentials are typically permanent residency status in the prov-
ince and Canadian work experience. Unfortunately for immigrants, many “regu-
latory bodies are not set up to assess foreign credentials prior to your arrival in
Canada” (CICIC 2002), making it impossible for immigrants to assess the de-
gree of devaluation prior to immigration.
The precise number of Canadian immigrants who fail the assessment of their
credentials is not known. Individual studies in different provinces suggest that
fewer than 50 percent of the immigrants in regulated occupations manage to
obtain Canadian accreditation, and among foreign-educated medical doctors
the proportion is as low as 5 percent. In the latter case, the lack of required in-
ternship positions is a major contributing factor (Basran and Zong 1998). Al-
though several provincial governments have recently declared their commitment
to increasing the number of internship positions, these measures will likely
benefit only a minority of foreign-trained doctors, while the majority will con-
tinue to be unable to practice in Canada.
The interviews conducted in the context of the Vancouver study confirmed
that the nonrecognition of foreign credentials is a significant factor in the
marginalization of skilled immigrant workers. Employment and settlement
counselors complained that the careers of their clients stagnate, that their cli-
ents often perform skilled tasks but receive the wages of unskilled workers, which
are inadequate relative to their qualifications. What the interviews illustrated
most clearly is how the devaluation of foreign credentials renders the upper seg-
ments of the Canadian labor market inaccessible to many immigrants. For im-
migrants from South Asia, for example, unrecognized foreign education and
degrees are a source of frustration. An employment counselor remarks, “[For-
eign degrees are] not recognized. Whatever degrees they have in their country
it’s not compatible, and they don’t equate. Like [a] degree from UBC [Univer-
sity of British Columbia] is not equivalent to the degree you get from India or
Pakistan.”
Another respondent, who counsels immigrants on employment matters,
comments on the massive amount of credential devaluation from South Asia:
“There are so many clients I have seen, if they have done BA and when they
evaluate their credentials they are given Grade 10. And if they have master’s or
so they are given Grade 12.”4 The magnitude of this devaluation process is il-
lustrated not only by the number of years of education that immigrants appar-
ently lose in the skill assessment process, but also by the fact that more than
half of these immigrants, or more than 137,000 individuals, who entered Canada
in 2001 as skilled workers are likely to be affected. Family-class immigrants and
refugees are not immune to de-skilling, particularly those refugees who were
selected based on their skills and education.
De-skilling prevents many immigrants from continuing their careers in Canada,
and many assume work in the secondary labor market far below their qualifica-
tions. A typical comment from respondents was that skilled immigrants from
South Asia initially have high labor market aspirations, but “after two months or
six months or a year,” they reevaluate and modify their employment expectations.
Once their savings are gone, they experience enormous pressure to put food on
the table, settling with occupations below their skill levels. A settlement coun-
selor explains: “For the first few months they are very reluctant to join as a farm
laborer or for any kind of menial job because they have held respected posi-
tions back home in their country, and they have done white-collar jobs all their
lives, so they really find it hard but, when all their savings are disappearing, then
they have no choice but to get any job which comes their way to make a living.”
In a similar vein, a training provider has many highly educated trainees who
confront the problem of credential nonrecognition and consequently change
their careers to become security guards: “Those who are engineers and doctors
and salesmen, when they come here, within a few days they realize, okay, it’s
very difficult to reach the long-term goals within a short time. So at that time,
their first intention is to get into the labor market. . . . Most of our persons [cli-
ents] they try to find a job in security, and they go to certificate training course,
which is known as BST 1 and BST 2, Basic Security Training 1, and Basic Security
Training 2. The duration [of these courses] is only two weeks, and these are very
helpful [to] get part-time jobs.”
Other immigrants quickly discover that the accreditation of their educational
certificates is prohibitively time-consuming and costly. Indeed, accreditation pro-
cedures tend to favor Canadian-educated applicants. The Canadian Architectural
Accreditation Board (2002), for example, blatantly charged graduates from Ca-
nadian schools only $214 in 2002 for the assessment of their professional creden-
tials, while charging foreign graduates more than three times as much, or $749.
Skilled immigrants who can afford the credential assessment process often find
that it is too slow and cumbersome. An employment counselor observes that some
immigrants simply switch careers, precisely because of this problem: “Some people,
they just be ‘Oh well, it’s going to take me two years to get the credential evalua-
tion, it’s going to take me one year at BCIT [British Columbia Institute of Tech-
nology] to do this professional course. Forget about the credential evaluation, I’ll
just go for one year of study and then, you know, get a job over here.’ So they
totally drop [their] certificate from India.”
De-skilling as a result of the nonrecognition of their foreign credentials fre-
quently has traumatic emotional effects on immigrants. Many come to Canada
with the expectation of continuing and improving their careers, only to be deeply
disappointed. With de-skilling, immigrants confront not only the derailing of
their careers, but they experience the loss of social status that accompanied their
occupation. An employment counselor working with South Asian immigrants
explains how employment situations trickle down into family matters: “I’ve had
a lot of clients who are engineers . . . or they’re business managers or owners, or
they’ve worked for government, or something like that and they’ve had a lot of
responsibility. And [they] feel very strongly that they shouldn’t have to take a
step down. . . . I’ve had people say to me as well, ‘I don’t want to get a job that’s
[secondary labor] because what am I going to tell my children, that their dad is
now, instead of being the head of this company, is now a waiter in a restaurant?’”
This type of experience was common among the settlement and employment
counselors who participated in the survey. For example, a nongovernmental
organization program coordinator remarks that immigrants who occupied a
relatively high status in India now find themselves performing jobs associated
with low status:
You’ll see janitors, they have BAs and MAs, maybe some with PhDs. You’ll
see some with law backgrounds from their home countries, medical back-
ground. . . . And you work a job where you can’t tell other people what
you are doing, because you have the lowest socioeconomic status. You can’t
go around announcing to people that “I clean toilets.” It doesn’t look good
on your résumé, doesn’t look good in this society, so you have to make up
something. You have to speak a lie. So every day you speak a lie. . . . The
community is the most important thing where you have to maintain sta-
tus. You know you left your country to come here to clean toilets? How
disgusting that is?
Immigrants from the former Yugoslavia confront a similar devaluation of

their institutional cultural capital. Due to the nonrecognition of their foreign
credentials, they need much longer than they ever expected to reach the level of
employment they had achieved in their home country; many never achieve this
level. A settlement counselor who immigrated from Yugoslavia four years ear-
lier describes a situation that is typical for immigrants from this region: “Many
people from my country, who have university [degrees], they . . . are working
in the beginning anything. [Immigrants] must work any type of job. And it
doesn’t matter if I have university, I can go and clean the street and everything,
no problem, but I would like to see that I will have a chance [after] a few years,
to do my job. And that’s a problem. I have to go to school again . . . I need two,
three years, five years maybe. Then I can go [enter my profession]. Then I will
be over 55 years, that’s [a] problem.”
Many newcomers from the former Yugoslavia change their careers because
their education and/or their credentials are not recognized in Canada. Particu-
lar occupations with very stringent regulations, such as the medical field, are
usually inaccessible to immigrants (CICIC 2002; Health Canada 2002). A re-
spondent uses herself as an example: “I came from Belgrade. . . . I was a medi-
cal student, so my education wasn’t recognized here, so I had to start all the way
down. . . . I couldn’t continue medical school, so I changed to psychology.” This
respondent recognized the higher value of Canadian education compared to her
foreign education and adapted to this situation by acquiring a Canadian degree.
The same respondent goes on to explain that obtaining an education that is
recognized in the labor market is important to her and many of her fellow im-
migrants: “We . . . come from that culture [in which] education is important.
We did study in our country, we wanted to continue that in Canada, so that
war didn’t prevent us, stop us from getting education.” However, to continue
her education also required her to start a new degree program. A Canadian
degree now enables her to be competitive in the Canadian labor market, some-
thing a degree from Bosnia could not provide.
Other immigrants from the former Yugoslavia have managed to escape the
devaluation of their credentials. These immigrants often work in occupations
that are new and not yet regulated by the educational system or professional
associations. In Canada, information technology occupations were not regu-
lated by government or professional organizations at the time this research was
conducted and when the immigrants entered the Canadian labor market (CICIC
2002). Accordingly, several respondents observed that immigrants educated in
the former Yugoslavia have been able to get jobs in the high-tech and dot-com
sector. One interviewee, for example, said, “Computer, technical, computer

programmers, analysts, even though their English may not actually be very ad-
equate for the job, have even been hired because their skills are needed here.
That would be one group, that high-tech industry, which is not doing so well
right now, but up until six months ago [before the dot-com crash] it was doing
pretty well.”
Yet other immigrants from the former Yugoslavia manage to continue their
career paths through the informal recognition of their credentials. Although the
immigrants are not allowed to carry their formal occupational titles, some em-
ployers seem to be quite aware of the quality of education obtained in Yugosla-
via and try to hire immigrants from this region. A former settlement counselor
with a law degree from Sarajevo University says, “Officially nothing is recog-
nized. However, the businesses, even in government, I have that luck that they
didn’t make a big fuss around my education. They kind of recognized that I
completed studies of law somewhere, and that was treated as a postsecondary
education. . . . I managed to . . . get a job that has some legal component.” Al-
though this respondent continues to apply his skills and experience, his busi-
ness card does not list a job title that reflects his expertise or the status that he
held in the former Yugoslavia. Likely, his salary is below that of a certified law-
yer and possibly that of a legal assistant. The effect of de-skilling is that skilled
and experienced workers are available in the labor market, but without carry-
ing formal job titles and the corresponding wage entitlements.
De-skilling prevents immigrants in the skilled workers category in particu-
lar from reaping the benefits of their skills and education. Ironically, the point
system—on the basis of which these immigrants are selected—gives credit for
education and credentials that are not recognized in Canada.5 A South Asian
community leader calls attention to the mismatch that exists between immi-
grant selection procedures and the recognition of foreign credentials: “Here’s
the story. You are in Iran or India. And you want to migrate to Canada. Okay?
So on the basis of the fact that you’re a doctor, you get x number of points. So
I’m saying ‘Hey you’re a doctor, great! Come to Canada!’ But you can’t prac-
tice in Canada. Now explain this to me” (laughs).
From a human capital perspective, de-skilling appears to be a loss for Canada
and the country of origin, both of which lose a skilled worker. An employment
counselor criticizes Canadian immigration policy and the exclusionary accredi-
tation process by making reference to the hotly debated “brain drain” (i.e., the
exodus of skilled labor) but interpreting the current situation as “brain abuse.”
It’s an abuse to the brain. . . . The country from where any person is com-
ing from, that country is recognizing that brain . . . and those people are
performing in those countries. And . . . when you’re being assessed for
immigration, your . . . qualification [and] skills [are] counted [when]
you’re permitted to enter this country. But when you enter this country
you drop to zero level. . . . Yeah, brain drain! . . . That country from where
the person has immigrated, loses that brain, this country who should have
been otherwise benefited [from] that quality, doesn’t accept that brain. So
ultimately what happens, neither this country got help, nor the country
where he left got help. It is a brain abuse because it’s not proper utilization
of the quality and the skills of people.
The exclusion of immigrant workers from professional occupations is diffi-

cult to rationalize from a human capital perspective; a perspective of processes
of social distinction offers a better explanation. In fact, many interviewees be-
lieve that the marginalization of immigrants in the Canadian labor market is a
systematic effort to reserve the upper segments of the labor market for Canadian-
born workers. One respondent sees the exclusion of foreign workers as a strat-
egy to limit competition: “There’s a very powerful lobby that’s preventing people
from [entering higher-status occupations]. And let’s face it, this is a political
situation, a political situation is doctors [and] individuals who were born in
Canada, educated in Canadian colleges, gone through the medical system, don’t
want people from Third World countries coming in because it reduces their
demand.” Immigrants relegated to the secondary segment of the labor market
because of nonrecognition of their credentials continue to play an important
economic role for Canada—especially when employers are not obligated to
compensate them commensurate with their skills and education because for-
mally their skills and education do not exist.
Canadian Experience
A less formalized category of cultural capital that is given equal billing with
education and credentials is “Canadian experience.” Many newly arriving im-
migrants are excluded from the upper labor market segment because they lack
experience in the Canadian labor market. A respondent presents the conven-
tional argument for employers’ insistence on Canadian experience: “Employ-
ers need to be convinced that yes, a person can do a job.” The respondent
suggests that employers reject applicants who lack “local knowledge and lack
knowledge of Canadian systems.” What Canadian experience apparently con-
veys to employers is that the habitus of an immigrant is aligned with that of the
Canadian workplace.6 An additional advantage of Canadian experience may be
that employers who are considering hiring an immigrant can request a refer-
ence more easily from a Canadian than a foreign employer.
However, this argument for the value of Canadian experience is not applied
consistently. In occupations that are not highly desired by Canadian-born resi-
dents, the requirement of Canadian experience is usually waived. For example,
many South Asian immigrants find work as security guards, and the lack of
Canadian experience is not an obstacle to employment. Two business owners
who employ Yugoslavian immigrants also noted that Canadian experience is
not a make-or-break factor in the hiring process. They hire workers with and
without Canadian experience, and both groups perform equally on the job. If
Canadian experience is not a valid indicator of performance, then it may be a
measure of cultural distinction, with the objective of excluding immigrants who
do not possess it.
In occupations that are not formally regulated by professional organizations,
the lack of Canadian experience often serves as an informal means of excluding
immigrant workers. Several interviewees shared this concern that “lack of Ca-
nadian experience” is simply a way of differentiating between Canadian-born
workers and immigrants. An employment counselor observes that many of his
clients from South Asia confront this hidden barrier: “And when you ask them
[employers]: ‘Why did I not get the job, because I did have all the qualifica-
tions?’ The standard answer is that you don’t have Canadian experience and
Canadian qualifications.” This particular respondent had been a human resource
manager in India, overseeing a workforce of 6,000 people. He goes on to ex-
plain, “I am a management professional [by] training and I have my MBA. How
does a school of management change? I’m a human resources manager. . . . Now,
when I look at my skills, I fail to understand in what way the school of manage-
ment of human beings changes from this part of the world to the other part of
the world.” A leader of the local Serbian community voices similar concerns:
The problem that people have in finding a job . . . is about having Cana-
dian experience. What is it? Is it [an] excuse, or what is this? I have no idea.
This is . . . like [a] circle, you don’t have experience so you cannot work
and you cannot work because you don’t have experience, so it’s closed and
you cannot break it. . . . And what is Canadian experience? We don’t know
how to build [it]. Because when you start working [in your first job in
Canada], you’re not totally independent, you’re supervised, you have work
codes, you have everything, so you will gain experience. So it’s not a big
deal, but people make it a big deal.7
The effect of employers’ insistence on Canadian experience is similar to the
nonrecognition of education and credentials, namely, the devaluation of labor.
For example, a community activist and expert in international finance from the
former Yugoslavia started in Canada as a bank teller because she lacked Cana-
dian experience. A South Asian community leader who was an experienced
corporate secretary before she came to Canada worked initially as a typist for
the same reason. One respondent who immigrated from the former Yugoslavia
emphasizes the long-term consequences of not acknowledging work experience
gained abroad: “The recognition of previous experience is also a problem. . . .
My sister is not recognized as an architect with seventeen years of experience,

it’s just seven years here. So that makes a difference as well, the salaries.” In this
case, Canadian experience was not an informal requirement but part of the for-
mal credential recognition process.
Because of the requirement of Canadian experience, employers sometimes
gain access to highly qualified workers for substandard wages. A Serbian com-
munity leader notes that Canadian experience was required for the recognition
of his foreign engineering diploma. Therefore, he was forced to work for a frac-
tion of the standard wage for engineers:
I am a civil engineer by profession and I used to work for the United Na-
tions as a counselor. . . . But not in Canada. . . . You come here, they do rec-
ognize your diploma, but you . . . have to prove that you have Canadian
experience. And then people start working as technicians, like $15 an hour,
instead of working for $50 an hour, right? But they have to go through this.
And then eventually they do get their diplomas verified, there is no problem
verifying civil engineering or mechanical engineering diplomas in Canada.
But it is complicated by this clause: “Do you have Canadian experience?”
Some professional associations allow foreigners to work without certification
or Canadian experience, but only in subordinate positions. Nonregistered en-
gineers, for example, are allowed to practice as long as they are supervised by a
licensed engineer (CICIC 2002). Thus, foreign-educated engineers without work
experience in Canada and who cannot be immediately certified are subordinated
to certified engineers. In nonregulated occupations, employers assess the suitability
of applicants on an individual basis (CICIC 2002). Most mid- and lower-level
occupations are nonregulated, but the lack of Canadian experience produces a
similar effect of lowering wages.
In some cases, the requirement of Canadian experience provides employers
with eager volunteers who work for no money at all. A Serbian community leader
explains that many immigrants volunteer to gain work experience as the only
way to improve their labor market situation in Canada:
If there is volunteerism in the community, it’s typically designed to . . . ad-
vance a career interest. For example, . . . if they have ambition down the
road to have their pharmacy credentials positively assessed, from Yugo-
slavia, they volunteer for either an association, or even the dispensary down-
town that deals with drug addicts or something. . . . I know a young fellow
who’s determined to become a paralegal or something, and his English isn’t
very good but he was a lawyer in Belgrade. He’s volunteering for a law firm,
he’s been volunteering for six or eight months.
Highly skilled and educated immigrant workers do not lose their skills and
knowledge simply because they have never worked in Canada. Rather, many of
these immigrants offer their skills and knowledge in related but lower-status
occupations and for wages that would be unacceptable to certified Canadian
workers. The alternative to occupational status degradation is employment
in occupations in the secondary labor market, which offer even worse career
prospects.
Conclusion
The devaluation of foreign education and credentials and the demand for Ca-
nadian experience constitute an important process in allocating immigrants to
the Canadian labor market. Immigrants who suffer from occupational down-
grading are forced to switch careers and experience loss of social status. Many
immigrants feel that they have been tricked into this situation by Canadian
immigration policies, which do not explicitly explain to immigrants prior to
arrival in Canada that their skills, education, and experience will be devalu-
ated. Immigrants have even filed a class action complaint with Ontario’s
Human Rights Commission, alleging discrimination in regard to medical licens-
ing against foreign-trained doctors (J. Wong 2004). To many immigrants it seems
as if Canadian immigration policy purposefully seeks to attract highly skilled work-
ers only to strip them of their credentials and let them perform the same task as
before but for lower wages. Such views may be cynical; surely immigration of-
ficers do not issue immigrant visas in a mean-spirited attempt to humiliate the
people who sit in the waiting rooms of Canada’s foreign high commissions.
Nevertheless, from a macro perspective, these views present an interesting sce-
nario of the structural relationship between immigration and the regulation of
labor markets. Contrary to the rhetoric of many economists who lament the loss
to the Canadian economy caused by the destruction of human capital, de-skilling
benefits the Canadian economy by supplying a flexible yet highly educated and
skilled labor force of immigrants who will work for relatively low wages in oc-
cupations inside or outside of their formal training. The federal Ministry of
Industry clearly indicated it welcomes such a low-wage workforce to give Canada
a competitive edge over other industrialized countries (Industry Canada 2002;
KPMG 2002). Likewise, the employers that I interviewed were very pleased with
their immigrant employees—perhaps because they receive skilled workers but
are not obliged to pay the full wages for these skills.
Based on the evidence presented in this chapter, I suggest that Canadian
professionals collectively use the practice of credential assessment to reserve
employment in these occupations for themselves. Professional organizations
constitute a critical element in the institutional infrastructure that imposes a
distinct set of rules on portions of the primary segment of the labor market,
enforcing the reproduction of a professional class of Canadians. Jeffrey Reitz
(2005: 9) also points to institutional processes disadvantaging foreign-educated
immigrants “in occupations that are not licensed or regulated,” such as manage-
rial positions. Such institutional processes overlap with other aspects of labor
devaluation and segmentation. One such aspect is place of origin. Immigrants who
obtained their education, training, and employment experience in different parts
of the world are likely to be assessed differently. In addition, other cultural pro-
cesses, outlined in the previous chapters, intertwine with institutional processes
of labor market segmentation. Together they constitute a powerful set of cul-
tural forces that orders the labor market.
PART III
IMMIGRANTS IN BERLIN
German Immigration Policy
Historically, German policies and regulations for immigrants have reflected

the effort to manage the German economy. Immigration has been the
“shock absorber of economic cycles (Konjunkturpuffer)” (Münz et al. 1997:
63), and immigration policies have complemented other economic policies.
During the post–World War II era of economic recovery, commonly
known as Germany’s economic miracle, and after the massive stream of
refugees from East Germany and eastern Europe receded with the tighten-
ing of the Iron Curtain,1 the West German government negotiated agree-
ments with Mediterranean countries that allowed more than 2 million guest
workers (Gastarbeiter) to enter Germany between 1955 and 1973.2 The
reception of the foreign guests was euphoric. In 1964, a marching band
greeted the one-millionth guest worker, Armando Rodrigues from Portugal,
at the train station in Cologne with Bizet’s “Toreador’s Song” (“Chanson
du toréro”). Rodrigues received a motorcycle as a welcoming gift.3 In early
1973, foreign guest workers represented more than 10 percent of the
entire German workforce. In November of the same year, however, the
recruitment of new guest workers stopped (Anwerbestop) due to the
economic recession induced by the global energy crisis. Although
Germany’s guest worker program ended in 1973, spouses and children
continued to join the workers who were already in Germany. These
families began establishing themselves in Germany, and their children called
Germany their home, not Turkey, Italy, or Yugoslavia. Max Frisch’s famous
quote, “We called for workers, and people came,” eloquently summarizes
Germany’s postwar immigration policy and its problems. Today, the
situation in the labor market is difficult for these workers. The unemploy-
ment rate among foreign workers typically exceeds that of German-born
104 IMMIGRANTS IN BERLIN
citizens. Those who are employed tend to have low-skill and low-wage
occupations (Ausländerbeauftragte der Bundesregierung 2000; Münz et al.
1997; Seifert 1998).
A recent debate revolving around the German green card is another
example of how German political and economic leaders have attempted to
tie immigration to labor market issues. In 2000, the German government
established the green card to enable foreign IT specialists from non–
European Union countries to work in Germany for up to five years.4 In
October 2001, Germany celebrated the issuing of the ten-thousandth green
card again before TV cameras.5 By 2003, roughly 15,000 IT specialists,
mostly from eastern Europe and India, received the card (Beauftragte der
Bundesregierung für Migration, Flüchtlinge und Integration 2004: 65–68;
Bundesregierung 2003). This number, however, was lower than expected
because visa and immigration programs in Canada, the United States, the
United Kingdom, and elsewhere stood in direct competition with
Germany’s initiative. For example, compared to the German green card,
Canada’s skilled worker program is more attractive because it offers
permanent immigrant status and the prospect of speedy naturalization.6
Despite the presence of millions of foreigners and the continuing intake
of international migrants, Germany has long denied being an immigration
country. For decades, public debates typically revolved around the theme of
foreigners (Ausländer) rather than immigrants (Zuwanderer or Immigranten).7
Only recently has the federal government formally acknowledged that
Germany is de facto an immigration country and proposed an immigration
law in the late 1990s. However, reflective of the German public’s split over
identifying itself as an immigration country and the disagreement over the
direction of a future immigration policy, the birth of the new immigration
law has not been a model delivery. The Süssmuth Commission, a panel of
immigration experts and representatives of labor unions, employers,
churches, and political parties, was delegated to make recommendations to
legislators and released its final report in July 2002. The subsequent law,
based on the commission’s recommendations, was struck down by the
German constitutional court in December 2002 after a procedural error
during the vote in the upper house of Parliament. The ensuing negotiations
between coalition and opposition parties seemed to fail after the Conserva-
tive Party linked immigration to issues of national security and terrorism.
After more than a year of negotiations, an agreement was finally reached in
the spring of 2004—but only after the party leaders personally handled the
negotiations, excluding the junior coalition partner (the Green Party), and
amid accusations of bickering between negotiating parties by German
President Johannes Rau (2004). The law was finally passed in early July 2004
and took effect on January 1, 2005.8 The new law links immigration to the
IMMIGRANTS IN BERLIN 105
regulation of the national labor market. Although a Canadian-style point

system for skilled labor immigration was dropped during the negotiations,
the law enables the permanent immigration of highly qualified labor, allows
temporary settlement of workers with midlevel qualifications, and wel-
comes entrepreneurs if they invest at least a1 million and create ten new
jobs or more. Even before the law took effect, the spokesperson of
German industry, Michael Rogowski, critiqued the new law for not supply-
ing immigrant workers to the low-wage sector (Sonntag Aktuell 2004).
Despite this criticism, politicians applauded the law as a historical milestone
of German labor market policy. Echoing the words of Canada’s former
immigration minister, who called for “the best and brightest” immigrant
workers, Germany’s Minister of the Interior Otto Schily claimed that the
new law will attract the “best minds [besten Köpfe]” available in the interna-
tional labor market (Südwest-Presse 2004).
Prior to the immigration law, German policy distinguished among several
types of immigrants.9 The first group consists of ethnic German immigrants
who were displaced as a consequence of World War II. Immediately after
the war, approximately 15 million refugees and expellees (Flüchtlinge und
Vertriebene) fled to West Germany from the territory occupied by the Red
Army. During the cold war another 4.5 million migrants from East Germany
(Übersiedler) settled in West Germany. More relevant to the current
migration context are so-called Aussiedler, migrants of ethnic German origin
from eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union. Until 1987, approximately
1.4 million Aussiedler arrived in West Germany. After 1987, with the collapse
of the Iron Curtain, the volume of migration increased sharply. Between 1988
and 2002, 2,894,419 ethnic German immigrants settled in the Federal
Republic of Germany, with a peak annual immigration in 1990 of 397,073
(Bade und Oltmer 1999: 21; Bundesverwaltungsamt 2003). Legislation passed
in 1992 (Kriegsfolgenberechtigungsgesetz) curbed the number of admittances
and now requires knowledge of German from applicants (Gassner 1997;
Münz et al. 1997). Since 1993, Aussiedler are legally referred to as
Spätaussiedler. German law (i.e., the Bundesvertriebenengesetz [BVFG] §4)
defines Spätaussiedler as those ethnic Germans “who left the former Soviet
Union, Estonia, Latvia, or Lithuania after December 31, 1992, through formal
procedure” (Juris 2003: 3, my translation). The law also requires applicants to
demonstrate their commitment to the German nation through their ancestry,
knowledge of the German language, education, and culture (BVFG §6).
Legally, Spätaussiedler are not immigrants but fellow citizens with unre-
stricted access to the labor market and with entitlement to the recognition
of their foreign educational and occupational credentials (Gassner 1997;
Koopmans 1999). By 2002, the number of annually arriving Spätaussiedler
had declined to 91,416, a downward trend that continued in more recent
years (Bundesverwaltungsamt 2003; Netzwerk Migration in Europa e.V.

2005a).
The second group of immigrants comprises foreigners with citizenship
from other European Union countries. EU citizens have similar legal access
to the German labor market as German citizens. Most non-German EU
citizens who presently reside in Germany came as guest workers between
1955 and 1973 from southern Europe, prior to the existence of regulations
that guarantee free labor mobility within EU borders (Münz und Ulrich
2000). A smaller and more recent wave of migrants from EU countries
consists of “cheap labor,” mainly targeting the construction industry (Morris
2002: 40). At the end of 2002, roughly 1.9 million foreigners with citizen-
ship from an EU country resided in Germany. During the same year,
however, 122,982 EU nationals left the country, and only 110,610 came to
Germany (Beauftragte der Bundesregierung für Migration, Flüchtlinge und
Integration 2004).10
The third group of immigrants consists of foreigners from non-EU
countries. Their presence relates to the guest worker program of 1957–
1973. After guest worker recruitment ended, many foreign workers
remained in the country and brought their family members to Germany.
The number of Turkish and Yugoslav residents actually increased in the
mid-1980s and part of the 1990s due to family reunification (Münz and
Ulrich 2000). These foreign families now constitute “an integral part of the
population in Germany” (Ausländerbeauftragte der Bundesregierung 2000).
Although much of the foreign population was actually born in Germany,
many still possess the citizenship of their parents and are legally considered
foreigners.11 In 2002, when this study was undertaken, roughly 5.4 million
foreigners who were not European Union citizens12 lived in Germany
(Beauftragte der Bundesregierung für Migration, Flüchtlinge und Integration
2004).
The fourth group are asylum seekers, refugees, and tolerated foreigners.
Until the early 1970s, the annual number of asylum seekers was low
(typically below 10,000), but the acceptance rate was about 80 percent. The
numbers fluctuated throughout the 1980s and peaked in 1992 with roughly
438,000. In the early 1990s, the acceptance rate fell to 3 to 7 percent.
However, many of the declined asylum applicants are able to remain in
Germany as tolerated foreigners (Geduldete), a status that grants temporary
suspension from deportation. In the early 1990s, Germany created the
special status category Kontingentflüchtling (contingent refugees) to permit
Jews from the former Soviet Union to settle in Germany. Legally, this
category roughly corresponds to asylum seeker, although the criteria for
acceptance are less stringent13 (Harris 1999; Münz et al. 1997). In 2002,
71,127 people applied for asylum in Germany. In the same year, 415,000
tolerated de facto refugees lived in Germany, many of them from the

former Yugoslavia. In addition, 19,262 contingent refugees from the former
Soviet Union immigrated to Germany (Beauftragte der Bundesregierung für
Migration, Flüchtlinge und Integration 2004)
The Case of Berlin
Berlin’s economy has undergone turbulent changes over the past two
decades. With German unification in 1990, West Berlin ceased to be an
island within East Germany. Two previously separate and distinct econo-
mies were merged. In the eastern part of the city, many manufacturing jobs
could not be sustained under capitalist competition. Industry in the western
part of the city lost special subsidies and transfer payments (Berlinförderung
and Berlinhilfe), which were designed to compensate for the geographically
isolated location of the former West Berlin.14 These events accelerated the
decline of the manufacturing sector while facilitating restructuring to a
service-based economy. The desolate state of the labor market is reflected
in an extraordinarily high unemployment rate, which stood at 17 percent in
the summer of 2002, when empirical research for this study took place.
Immigrants have absorbed much of the negative impact of unification on the
labor market. Competition had already intensified among skilled German
workers who were formerly separated by the Wall. Immigrants, however,
were fired even before their German colleagues and hired after them,
which produced an astonishingly high unemployment rate of 38 percent
among Berlin’s foreign workers (Häußermann and Kapphan 2000;
Senatsverwaltung für Wirtschaft, Arbeit und Frauen 2003).15 Although
Berlin is the largest city in Germany, the difficult labor market situation has
prevented it from becoming the largest immigrant gateway in Germany.16
The empirical investigation on the labor market situation of immigrants
in Berlin focuses primarily on immigrants from the former Yugoslavia and
Spätaussiedler.17 The findings of the Berlin study reveal processes of labor
market regulation that complement, rather than directly compare to, those
of the Vancouver study. Spätaussiedler represent an extremely interesting
group because of their legal status as Germans, not foreigners. In addition
to the two primary groups under investigation, I was able to collect
considerable information on Turkish immigrants, who constitute by far the
largest single origin group in Berlin. In fact, the 2003 World Migration
Report calls Berlin “the largest Turkish city outside Turkey” (International
Organization for Migration [IOM] 2004: 75).
After Turks, immigrants from the former Yugoslavia are the second
largest group of foreigners in Berlin (see Appendix, Figure A.2). Their
population was 30,316 in 1985, swelled to almost 79,000 in 1995, and
MAP III. 1. Berlin and surrounding districts (Map by Marie Puddister)
subsequently declined again to under 57,000 in 2002. In 2002, almost every

second immigrant belonging to this group was from Serbia/Montenegro, and
every fifth came from Bosnia and Croatia. Relatively few came from Slovenia
and Macedonia. Up until the early 1990s, most immigrants from Yugoslavia
were former guest worker families. In the 1990s, a significant number of
refugees settled in Berlin. Slowly declining numbers in the late 1990s relate
to the city of Berlin’s active efforts to repatriate immigrants from the
former Yugoslavia. The city’s Office of the Commissioner for Foreigners
(Ausländerbeauftragte)18 developed a series of aid and trade initiatives with
the countries of the former Yugoslavia to entice immigrants to return.
These measures include investments in physical and social infrastructure
and subsidies to businesses in Bosnia, Kosovo, and Serbia that employ
returnees (IOM 2004: 81). The unemployment rate of citizens of the
former Yugoslavia was 29.4 percent in summer 2002, when the study took
place. Although this number is high, it is relatively low in relation to Berlin’s
foreign population as a whole. Among Turkish workers, the unemployment
rate was 42.9 percent (Bundesanstalt für Arbeit 2002). Turkish immigrants,
in particular, concentrate in the secondary segment of the labor market and

in low-wage occupations.19
Roughly 40,000 Aussiedler and Spätaussiedler settled in Berlin between
1988 and 1998 (Bade and Oltmer 1999: 21). Since the mid-1990s, the
federal government legislates the settlement dispersal of the Spätaussiedler
across regional states (Bundesländer) to distribute the costs and burden of
integration more evenly. Although Spätaussiedler are technically free to
settle anywhere in Germany, they lose their social assistance entitlements if
they disobey settlement allocation orders. According to this allocation key,
Berlin receives 2.7 percent of all Spätaussiedler arriving in Germany (Juris
2003: BVFG §8). In 2002, this percentage translated into 2,461 new arrivals,
99.1 percent of whom came from the territory of the former Soviet Union
(Bundesverwaltungsamt 2003).
Nationwide, 57 percent of the newly arriving Spätaussiedler in 2002
were income earners and/or in the labor force prior to settling in Germany.
This figure can be disaggregated into 58.9 percent for men and 55.8 percent
for women. The remaining Spätaussiedler were either children, students,
retirees, or otherwise not in the labor force. Among those in the labor
force, 42.7 percent were in service occupations, particularly in social,
administrative, transportation, health, and sales occupations. Another 36.8
percent had industrial and trade occupations, especially as mechanics,
locksmiths, and industrial helpers. Only 10.4 percent had technical occupa-
tions, including engineer and technician (Bundesverwaltungsamt 2003).
Once Spätaussiedler settle in Berlin, they usually experience difficult
economic times. Recent figures indicate that 53 percent of women and 47
percent of men were unemployed. Only about 15 percent are legally
employed, and women are less likely to find employment than men
(Bundesanstalt für Arbeit 2001b). Many of the men and women who are
employed work in low-skill jobs with considerable health risks and few
chances for occupational upward mobility. Some workers, especially in
technical professions, manage to secure jobs in their premigration occupa-
tions, but only about half of those who find employment at all work in their
previous occupations. Sixty-eight percent of Berlin’s Spätaussiedler do not
possess any occupational certification that is recognized in Germany.
Unemployment among Spätaussiedler concentrates in regulated occupations
that require accredited certification, such as teaching and the trades. Many
others find that their skills are not in demand in Berlin. There is, for
example, a relatively high concentration of unemployed Aussiedler and
Spätaussiedler in mining occupations, which is a negligible industry in Berlin
(Chrustaleva 2002; Greif et al. 1999; Koch 2001: 19–22; Münz et al. 1997:
121–126; Westphal 1999).
The labor market circumstances for immigrants differ considerably

between Canada and Germany and between Berlin and Vancouver. For
example, in Canada, landed immigrants are formally treated as equal to
Canadian citizens. In Germany, on the other hand, a complex web of status
categories grants variable labor market access to immigrants. Because of
these differences, it would be problematic to try to offer comparisons of
the two places or the labor market processes that operate within them.
Instead, I examine how the processes operating in Berlin complement the
processes taking place in Vancouver. How is it that the mechanisms that
regulate the labor markets of Berlin and Vancouver vary fundamentally and
mobilize different resources, yet produce similar outcomes in subordinating
immigrant labor?
This part of the book presents the results of an interview survey that
examines the situation of foreign immigrants and Spätaussiedler in Berlin’s
labor market (see Appendix). The next chapter discusses the role of
citizenship and legal classification in shaping immigrants’ access to the labor
market. The relative importance of these legal categories in controlling
immigrants’ labor market access renders cultural processes less influential
in the segmentation of foreign immigrants in Berlin than in Vancouver.
Spätaussiedler, however, are citizens and do not confront these legal
barriers to the labor market. In their case, cultural processes assume again
a critical regulatory function. Chapter 7 examines how foreign credential
devaluation is, as in Vancouver, a particularly problematic issue for
Spätaussiedler in Berlin. Chapter 8 focuses on ethnic networks and residen-
tial segregation as yet additional social mechanisms of immigrant labor
segmentation, which complement other social and cultural mechanisms.
◆ 6
CITIZENSHIP AND LEGAL CLASSIFICATION
“Tell me under which paragraph you arrive, and I’ll tell you who you are!” These
words explain how a community worker who helps immigrants settle in one of
Berlin’s eastern suburbs assesses the issues confronting her newly arriving cli-
ents. Legal status categories are a defining factor in the eligibility for services
and access to employment. This interviewee’s clients, all Spätaussiedler, are
admitted to Germany under different paragraphs of German law. Paragraph 4
(of the Bundesvertriebenengesetz) indicates to the community worker that
immigrants are eligible for the formal recognition of their foreign work experi-
ence; paragraph 7 (of the Staatangehörigkeitsgesetz) signifies that the immigrant
is an immediate relative of a paragraph 4 Spätaussiedler and is entitled to gov-
ernment-sponsored language training but ineligible for recognition of work
experience; and paragraph 8 (of the Bundesvertriebenengesetz) defines other
family members who are not eligible for either the recognition of their work
experience nor language training and are essentially treated as foreigners.
This example illustrates how immigrants are being legally classified, permit-
ting their differential treatment. Legal criteria slot immigrants into a hierarchy
of status categories that not only provide different levels of access to services
but also determine the level of access to the labor market. Although one could
debate the underlying philosophical legitimacy of classifying immigrants in this
manner,1 a political economy perspective sheds a revealing light on the func-
tion of this particular immigration scheme. Workers in each status category fulfill
distinct roles in the German labor market. The web of legal definitions and
policies for immigrants is thus an important component in the regulation of
the German labor market.
Germany has long maintained stringent regulations that limit labor market
access to immigrants. Citizenship has been a particularly useful mechanism for
dividing the immigrant population, generating a hierarchy of administrative
categories and creating different labor market circumstances for each category.
Germany not only distinguishes between Germans and non-Germans, but it also
differentiates between Aussiedler and Spätaussiedler, European Union nationals,
and immigrants of other nationalities. It imposes different sets of regulations on
each of these groups. As a consequence, each of the groups is assigned a different
position in the German labor market (Münz et al. 1997; Seifert 1995). In this
chapter, I explore the link between citizenship, immigrant status categories, and
labor market position. To begin this discussion, I outline four potential conse-
quences of the differential treatment of workers based on their citizenship.
Dimensions of Citizenship Exploitation

In chapter 1, I applied the notion of citizenship exploitation at an international
scale to the inequitable wage distribution between workers in First World and
Third World countries. The concept is also well suited to describe labor market
differentials at a national scale, within a country. In industrialized countries,
international migrants and foreign workers experience various degrees of labor
market disadvantage, depending on their citizenship and country of origin.
Citizenship is an ideological tool to withhold economic rights, deny equal labor
market access, exclude workers from protective labor legislation, reduce wage
levels, and assign workers to the secondary labor market.2 This tool has variable
effects on immigrant labor.
First, citizenship legitimates the payment of unequal wages to workers with
otherwise equal skills, education, and other human capital characteristics. By
focusing on wage differentials within a single national economy, one can link
the idea of citizenship exploitation to a conventional Marxist interpretation of
exploitation. That is, if foreign citizenship reduces the wages of workers who
operate at similar productivity levels and in the same geographical labor mar-
ket, then employers can appropriate a larger proportion of surplus value from
these workers than from domestic workers. In this case, citizenship defines the
degree to which a worker can be exploited, with immigrants experiencing greater
exploitation than nonimmigrants.
Second, citizenship may deny workers’ access to some occupations and en-
courage employment in other occupations, thereby facilitating occupational
segmentation among immigrants. Labor market segmentation theory has long
associated the secondary segment of the labor market with particularly exploit-
ative labor practices and wage scales. Immigrants who are relegated to the sec-
ondary labor market because of their citizenship therefore experience a greater
degree of exploitation than nonimmigrants.
Third, citizenship can seriously obstruct, or outright deny, legal access to the
labor market. For immigrants who do not possess the proper work authoriza-
tion, informal employment is often the only option. In the informal economy,
wages can be extremely low, employment conditions are frequently deplorable,
C I T I Z E N S H I P A N D LI M
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A LNATSSS IIFNI CBAETRI LOI N 113
and labor standards tend to be unmonitored by government. In addition, im-

migrant workers who work without proper documentation can be subjected to
threats of reporting and subsequent deportation. In the case of informal em-
ployment, citizenship is a tool to conceal a portion of the immigrant labor market
and remove it from the formal control of government.
Fourth, citizenship often bonds immigrant workers to the labor market. Many
foreigners are required to work to legally remain in the country. Dropping out
of the labor market, even temporarily, violates their resident status and would
require them to leave the country. Moreover, workers may be assigned to par-
ticular occupations and employers. Workers who are unable to switch employ-
ers or occupations but nevertheless depend on having a job are effectively unfree
labor and can be subjected to extremely exploitative working conditions.
These four effects of citizenship are relevant in varying ways to different
immigrant groups in Germany. Depending on an immigrant’s citizenship, she
or he is likely to experience one or more of these dimensions of exploitation.
Next, I examine how different legal status categories relate to an immigrant’s
citizenship and how these status categories frame an immigrant’s labor market
situation.
Migrant Status Categories

As mentioned earlier, German immigration policy distinguishes between four
general types of immigrants: (1) Aussiedler and Spätaussiedler, (2) foreigners
from European Union countries, (3) foreigners from non-EU countries, and
(4) asylum seekers, refugees, and tolerated foreigners. Citizenship is obviously
a defining factor in assigning immigrants to one category or the other. Less
obvious is that each category grants different levels of labor market access. A
maze of policies and regulations associated with each of these four categories
frames the labor market prospects of immigrants.
The German constitution (Article 116) considers Aussiedler and Spätaussiedler
returning Germans, rather than immigrants. They receive full legal access to the
labor market, with an explicit guarantee of free choice of occupation (Article 12).
In addition, the German government assumes a “political-moral obligation”
(Gassner 1997: 125) to assist returning Germans to integrate into Germany soci-
ety and labor market. This obligation entails that Aussiedler and Spätaussiedler
are entitled to a variety of integration services, including housing, language train-
ing, credential assessment, social assistance, retirement pensions, and travel cost
reimbursements. Some of these services, however, are extended only as long as
the immigrants settle at the places assigned to them and remain there for at least
three years (Bundesministerium des Innern 2002; Gassner 1997; Koch 2001:
12). In addition, only the primary immigrant (paragraph 4) receives the full
range of entitlements; relatives are subject to limitations, depending on their
relationship to the primary immigrant. From a legal viewpoint, paragraph 4

Spätaussiedler do not experience citizenship exploitation. As Germans, they are
not disadvantaged on the basis of their citizenship.
European Union countries share the “four freedoms—freedom of movement
of goods, . . . of persons, of services and of capital” (European Union 2003)
between each other.3 According to the Treaty of the European Union (commonly
known as the Treaty of Maastricht), the citizens of any EU country have the right
to work in Germany under the same conditions as German citizens.4 In addi-
tion, they have legal access to the same occupations as German citizens, except
those that represent the German state, such as law enforcement, military, judi-
cial, and sometimes teaching (Ausländerbeauftragte der Bundesregierung 2000).
EU citizens currently experience only minimal legal citizenship restrictions. How-
ever, citizenship disadvantages did exist in the past for many of the foreign
workers with EU citizenship who are currently in Germany. Many came to
Germany as guest workers in the 1960s and 1970s, decades before the Treaty
of the European Union came into effect in 1992. The citizenship discrimi-
nation of the past continues to haunt the present labor market situation of
many of these immigrants. The Berlin Senate Administration,5 for example,
suggests that the current economic situation of former guest workers and their
families is precisely a result of the former guest worker program, which
created “an underclass below [unterschichten] the existing order of society”
(Senatsverwaltung für Stadtentwicklung, Umweltschutz und Technologie Ber-
lin 1995: 40, my translation).
In 2002, when this study was undertaken, a complex system of regulations
managed labor market access for non-EU citizens. This system gradually initi-
ated foreigners into the German labor market in a controlled, stepwise, and
“probationary” (Morris 2002: 30–32) manner. Foreign workers first required a
limited residence permit (Aufenthaltgenehmigung) before they could apply for
a work permit (Arbeitsgenehmigung). The work permit was issued only after a
series of conditions were fulfilled on the part of the foreigner. For example, a
foreigner received a work permit only if no German worker was available for
the job. Once a work permit was obtained, it was limited to a maximum of three
years and was valid only in the administrative region of the issuing employment
office. The work permit and legal employment were important to demonstrate
financial independence and self-sufficiency, which were necessary criteria for
the acquisition of permanent resident status (Aufenthaltserlaubnis). With per-
manent resident status, possession of a work permit, and legal employment with
pension fund contributions for at least five years, the immigrant could then apply
for a work entitlement (Arbeitsberechtigung).6 This entitlement provided almost
unlimited legal access to the labor market.7
Immigrants from the former Yugoslavia and Turkey constitute a large por-
tion of the immigrants in this category of non-EU citizens. Many of these im-
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migrants came to Germany as guest workers or as relatives of guest workers.

Over the decades, they were able to establish themselves in the upper tiers of
the status hierarchy and secured permanent resident status and the work en-
titlement. With these permits they confront few legal labor market constraints,
and their situation is similar to that of former guest workers with European
Union citizenship. More recent cohorts of non-EU immigrants, however, have
only very constrained access to the German labor market. A limited work per-
mit (Arbeitsgenehmigung) is usually obtained in the context of special programs,
such as the green card, au pair program, or other procedures. These programs
tend to target younger workers and have corresponding age limits. Other pro-
grams offer temporary work permits to citizens of particular non-EU countries.
For example, Germany negotiated treaties with over a dozen countries, includ-
ing Poland, the new European Union member state, Turkey, and the countries
of the former Yugoslavia, that permit contracted foreign labor to work prima-
rily in the construction industry. Another program issues temporary work per-
mits to nurses from Croatia and Slovenia. Immigrants with temporary work
permits are essentially bonded to a particular employer, occupation, and even
the geographical region in which the permit-granting authorities are located.
The immigrants from non-EU countries who are unsuccessful in securing a
legal employment authorization often work in informal employment. Although
reliable data on informal employment do not exist, government statistics reg-
istered 13,728 reported cases of undocumented employment of foreign work-
ers in Germany in 2002 (Beauftragte der Bundesregierung für Migration,
Flüchtlinge und Integration 2004). The number of reported cases likely consti-
tutes only a fraction of the actual number of undocumented foreign workers.
Police reports suggest that, in Berlin, citizens of Poland, the countries of the
former Yugoslavia, and Turkey constitute a significant portion of unauthorized
foreign employment (Wilpert 1998).8 Undocumented workers are in an ex-
tremely vulnerable position in the labor market. They often receive low wages,
work under substandard employment conditions, are unprotected by employ-
ment legislation, and receive threats of being reported to German authorities if
they disagree with their treatment at the workplace. The denial of a work per-
mit due to citizenship creates a cheap and exploitable labor pool in the infor-
mal labor market. Czarina Wilpert argues that Germany’s bureaucracy has
actively helped produce and increase this reserve army of undocumented work-
ers by granting some immigrants a permit to stay but not work in Germany.
Asylum seekers, refugees, and tolerated foreigners are allowed to live in Ger-
many for reasons supposedly unrelated to the labor market. Until recently,
immigrants in this group had no right to work and their freedom of movement
within Germany was restricted. New legislation introduced in 2000 now allows
asylum seekers to work after a one-year waiting period (Bundesministerium des
Innern 2002). An increasing proportion of refugee and asylum applicants are
denied status but are classified as tolerated foreigners, which temporarily sus-
pends their deportation. They generally do not receive a work permit. Only in
exceptional cases, such as war-related psychological trauma, will German au-
thorities issue a temporary work permit. The potential for exploitation can be
illustrated in the case of tolerated foreigners. Although they do not receive a
work permit, they may be allowed to work in the nonprofit sector for wages far
below minimum wage. Workers who fail to obtain even this kind of measly
employment sometimes offer their services for free. The founder of a Berlin-
based nongovernmental organization assisting refugees from the former Yugo-
slavia, Bosilika Schedlich, reports on “sixty medical doctors and forty professors
. . . who offered to treat their fellow migrants for free. And the educators orga-
nized a kind of afternoon school” (Berliner Tagesspiegel 2002: 22, my transla-
tion). In addition, workers who fail to secure a work permit are likely to be
pushed into the informal economy, where even more deplorable employment
circumstances are not uncommon.
Citizenship is obviously a critical variable in classifying immigrants into legal
status categories. Spätaussiedler, European Union nationals, citizens of coun-
tries that negotiated special treaties with Germany, and citizens of remaining
countries are all treated differently in the bureaucracy that controls access to
the labor market. Spätaussiedler receive active integration assistance, EU na-
tionals obtain full access to the labor market, and non-EU nationals have to
navigate an elaborate obstacle course of residence and work permits. The lack
of German or European Union citizenship relates to labor exploitation in sev-
eral ways. First, workers from non-EU countries who are able to secure a tem-
porary employment authorization are often bonded to a specific employer and
are unable to switch occupations or their place of employment. Second, once
immigrants are able to work in Germany, they need to demonstrate financial
independence. If they receive unemployment or welfare benefits, they risk los-
ing their permits and thus their struggle to reach the next level of work and resi-
dency permits. In this situation, foreign workers are particularly vulnerable to
abuse and may accept lower pay, unfavorable working conditions, and employ-
ment in occupations below their qualifications. Third, immigrants who are
unable to secure the proper work authorization often work in the underground
economy, often for a fraction of current wage rates and beyond the reach of
protective labor regulations.
The conceptual link between citizenship, legal status categories, and the labor
market situation of immigrants was empirically substantiated by the interviews.
In addition, the interviews revealed that this link is maintained through at least
two different processes. First, the legal limitations of immigrants’ status have
direct implications for the level of labor market access they receive. Second, an
indirect link exists in the differential treatment of immigrants by institutions,
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FIGURE 6.1. Street gam-

bling at Kurfürstendamm
(Photo by Harald Bauder)
particularly the institutions that assess foreign education and credentials. In the
next section I discuss both processes in greater detail.
Status Categories and Labor Market Experiences

The interviews uncovered how important citizenship and legal status are in
shaping the labor market situation of immigrants. A respondent summarizes
this relationship in the following manner: “The Spätaussiedler has rights, the
spouse does not. . . . All other migrants do not have any rights and confront a
rather restrictive attitude by the law maker. There are, however, certain groups
that are mentioned in the law, such as asylum seekers, contingent refugees, or
foreigners with a German partner, they do not have rights, true, but are so-called
beneficiaries [Begünstigte]. In these cases one does not have to issue a permit,
but we in Berlin, like other states [Länder] as well, issue a permit to some groups.”
At the top of the hierarchy of status categories are Spätaussiedler, who have
legal entitlements not granted to other foreign migrants. Some respondents em-
phasized this difference. For example, “The problems are very similar [between
Spätaussiedler and other migrants], as are the reasons for migration. But . . .
the Employment Office [Arbeitsamt]9 does not have the same legal resources at
their disposal.” Even among migrants of German origin, legal differences exist.
The principal applicants for Spätaussiedler status are entitled to a higher level
of integration assistance than their spouse and more distant family members.
The interview at a counseling office for Spätaussiedler revealed some of these
differences. The first interviewee says, “First there are Spätaussiedler who are
real Germans in the sense of the law. . . . Then there is the second group, family
members.” Another respondent, who was present at the previous interview, adds,
“The German national has entitlements, the spouse does not. In this case, a
[work] permit can be issued based on discretion. All other migrants have no
entitlements.”
For workers without entitlements—most notably, foreigners without em-
ployment history in Germany—the greatest labor market obstacle is the so-called
priority regulation (Vorrangregelung). It ranks workers according to their citi-
zenship. A social worker explains the pecking order on the basis of which work
permits are given to foreign nationals: “There is this so-called priority regula-
tion: it states that first a German gets a job, then an EU foreigner, then a third-
country national. . . . If a third country national strives for a work permit
[Arbeitserlaubnis] but has no right to the work permit, then it will be examined
if a German unemployed worker or an unemployed EU foreigner qualifies for
the job.” Non-EU nationals, including many of the recently arrived immigrants
from the former Yugoslavia, are at the very bottom of the pecking order and
can obtain the legal authorization to work only if nobody else wants the job.
Several respondents commented on how difficult it is for non-EU nationals
to obtain a work permit. For example: “The Employment Office [Arbeitsamt]
will not issue a work permit, because there are thousands of people . . . who
have a German passport. And German unemployed workers who need work
have first priority.”
Even if a job exists that no German or European Union national wants, the
process of verifying the availability of this job is slow and bureaucratic. A social
worker explains that the length of this process creates an additional significant
employment barrier for immigrants from non-EU countries: “There are, for
example, refugees who are allowed to work.10 We look for employment for them,
but then proof is required that really no other worker qualifies for the job. And
then sometime down the road they have a chance. In the mean time, the op-
portunity has passed. An employer will not go though this [process] in the long
run.” Another respondent has had similar experiences and complains about the
sluggishness of the process of assessing the availability of German workers for a
job: “The right kind of work exists for refugees in exceptional cases. But the case
will be examined for such a long time period that the employer bails out.”
Other bureaucratic hurdles further discourage employers from hiring non-
EU foreigners. For example, work permits have strict time limits, after which
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they expire or must be renewed. The two social workers who participated in an
interview report that these time limits serve as a major deterrent for employers
offering a job to a non-EU national:
Social worker 1: Employers don’t like to hire workers who have a time-
limited residence permit [Aufenthaltsgenehmigung] that needs to be re-
newed half a year before expiration: “I don’t know what will happen. It is
too uncertain to me.”
Social worker 2: Even if someone is limited to two or three years, there can
be a problem for employers because he will have to adjust his employment
contract accordingly and accommodate the time limit.
In these cases, immigrants from non-EU countries encounter serious diffi-

culties entering the formal labor market. Even if legal employment is possible,
it will likely be in the secondary labor market. The priority regulation and the
temporary nature of residency and work permits create employment opportu-
nities primarily in those occupations that are undesired by German workers or
immigrants in more privileged status categories. One respondent observes that
asylum seekers “are not in principle and in every respect excluded from the labor
market. Rather they have lower priority. They can assume employment to the
degree that no suitable Germans or otherwise prioritized persons can be found
for the position. One will have to see what kind of jobs these are and where
demand exists.” This respondent implies that only the very bottom of the job
market is accessible to newly arriving immigrants from outside of the European
Union, and even to those jobs neither free nor fair access exists.
If the jobs in the secondary labor market are also desired by German work-
ers or other foreigners who are higher in the pecking order, then employment
in the formal labor market is unattainable to nonpermanent foreign residents.
In Berlin the unemployment rate has been particularly high, and even German
workers compete for a very limited number of jobs. Being at the end of an al-
ready long labor queue, newly arriving non-EU foreign nationals have virtually
no chance for employment in the formal labor market. The administrator of a
nongovernmental organization explains: “Because the situation and develop-
ment of the Berlin labor market is considerably unfavorable, [asylum seekers]
get no access to the labor market.” Other respondents echoed this remark.
For all practical purposes, newcomers from non-EU countries, including
from the successor states of the former Yugoslavia, are excluded from the Ber-
lin labor market. Without employment that allows them to make social and
employment insurance contributions, newly arriving immigrants are unable to
advance through a system of regulations that is designed to gradually grant work
entitlement and other economic and social rights. At the same time, a separate
labor market is created for refugees and tolerated foreigners in which foreign
workers do not compete with German workers: “It is possible through the So-
cial Services Office [Sozialamt] that asylum seekers work here in nonprofit
employment—where they will be employed for 40 hours, in landscaping or
something like that.” For example, the Social Services Office refers translators
to the nongovernmental organization with which this interview was conducted.
This work is compensated “with 2 to 3 Marks per hour,” a fraction of the mini-
mum wage.11 In addition, many immigrants slip into the informal labor mar-
ket. Employment in the regular labor market, even in the secondary segment,
remains unachievable for most.
Labor Market Institutions

Citizenship affects the manner in which migrants are approached and treated
by institutions that help connect workers to the labor market, such as gov-
ernment institutions that issue certificates and diplomas for particular occu-
pations. As in Vancouver, the nonrecognition of foreign credentials and the
nonaccreditation of foreign degrees are often-cited problems for immigrants
in Berlin. These practices deny many newcomers access to their previous occu-
pations. Several respondents defended the nonrecognition of degrees and cre-
dentials as a measure to preserve high German professional standards. However,
educational and occupational credentials are assessed differentially based on an
immigrant’s legal status and citizenship. Thus, citizenship and legal status are
defining factors for accreditation. This kind of manipulation of institutional
capital plays an important part in a citizenship-based system of labor market
subordination and exclusion.
For example, in the case of migrants of non-German origin, a legal basis for
the accreditation of foreign occupational and vocational certificates does not
exist. The responsible government office can issue an opinion on the length and
content of occupational or vocational training. This opinion, however, will only
be supplied confidentially to a potential employer or to a government institu-
tion. It will not be provided to the immigrant and cannot be used as an accredita-
tion certificate. Aussiedler and Spätaussiedler, on the other hand, are entitled to
the full assessment and accreditation of their occupational credentials. One re-
spondent emphasizes the central role of citizenship in the accreditation process.
She compares the situation of Jewish contingent refugees (Kontingentflüchtlinge)
and Spätaussiedler, both of whom come from similar educational systems in the
former Soviet Union: “The contingent refugees, who have the same education as
Spätaussiedler, do not get their certificates recognized; they [German authorities]
will not even accept the request for recognition.”12 Other respondents also de-
nounced this unequal treatment of status categories. One interviewee, who coun-
sels contingent refugees as well as Spätaussiedler, summarizes this dissimilarity:
“The real large difference is that the ones came as Germans and the others re-
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main foreigners up to ten years.” A public administrator in the government office

responsible for accreditation admits that there is a clear motive behind the dif-
ferential assessment based on citizenship: “I often get to hear that this is dis-
criminatory. And it is actually a situation against which [we] cannot do anything.
The desire to integrate Aussiedler in a privileged manner is the clear political
objective behind it, in my view.” Credential recognition is important not only
because it potentially provides access to employment with higher skill require-
ments and wages, but also because other labor market institutions provide cre-
dential-particular services to immigrants. The Employment Office (Arbeitsamt),
for example, matches the certificates held by job seekers with the occupational
characteristics of job openings. I asked an official in the Berlin Senate Admin-
istration which institutions request accreditation: “The employment office,
primarily. So that the employment office knows how to refer [an immigrant]—
with what qualification, or what additional education can be offered to him. Or
if one can recommend retraining, if the occupation is not accredited.” Immi-
grants with accredited credentials can thus be referred into employment that
reflects their skill levels and experience. Nonaccredited workers, on the other
hand, have to complete additional certification or work in an occupation below
their skills and experience.
Another example of the differential labor market treatment of immigrants
based on their citizenship exists in the medical field. In Berlin, an Approbation
(i.e., the unlimited license to practice medicine) is granted to immigrants only
if they possess German or European Union citizenship. Non-EU citizens can
apply only for a temporary, one-year license, which can be renewed for a maxi-
mum of four years. Although acquiring German citizenship would entitle non-
EU nationals to Approbation, naturalization usually requires residency for more
than four years. A government administrator describes how the mismatching
time spans of work permits and residency requirements create a catch-22 situ-
ation for immigrants: “An immigrant . . . has the problem that, even if he re-
ceives a work permit, the maximum limit without extension is four years. At
this time he is not naturalized yet. Thereafter we may only [extend the permit]
in special cases which are defined by the law maker: those are only asylum seek-
ers and contingent refugees. This means that it does not make sense to let some-
one work for four years and then say: ‘That’s it and now it’s over.’”
Of course, the issue of Approbation is relevant only in cases in which a for-
eign medical degree is recognized. In the medical field, credential recognition
seems to be a particular problem for all immigrants, and not only in Germany
(see chapter 5). However, thanks to their German citizenship, Spätaussiedler
have a legal right to Approbation if, according to a government administrator,
“the education does not differ too much from this country [Germany].” The
privilege of German citizenship even prohibits testing for knowledge of the
German language, a central requirement for the work permit for non-German
migrants. A government administrator explains: “From Spätaussiedler we may

not request it [a language test], because we cannot request knowledge of the
German language from a German—the law maker does not provide for this situ-
ation. From a Yugoslavian immigrant we would request knowledge of the Ger-
man language.”
Thus, labor market institutions, including those that assess credentials and
distribute Approbation licenses, also discriminate based on citizenship, in that
immigrants with German or European Union citizenship are treated differently
from Spätaussiedler and non-EU citizens. This differential treatment disadvan-
tages non-EU citizens to such a degree that they are likely to be pushed into the
secondary or informal labor market or be excluded from employment altogether.
Spätaussiedler, who are entitled to accreditation, have a legal advantage over
foreign nationals.
Conclusion
The empirical material supports the proposition that citizenship is a tool to order
the labor market and create a hierarchy of immigrant labor categories. Immi-
grants with the “wrong” citizenship also experience a greater degree of exploi-
tation. All four dimensions of citizenship exploitation are relevant in this respect.
Some refugees from war-torn Yugoslavia, for example, receive substandard
wages for translation services they provide to nongovernmental organizations;
other immigrants are segmented into secondary jobs through discriminatory pri-
ority regulation and/or credential nonrecognition; some are pushed into infor-
mal employment through exclusion from legal employment; and others find
themselves in particularly vulnerable positions, as their future in Germany de-
pends on an uninterrupted record of legal employment. Citizenship and the cor-
responding legal status categories constitute a critical factor in allocating workers
within the labor market. The development of labor market policies based on citi-
zenship enforces an international segmentation of labor in Germany.
The legal categories I examined included only immigrants who remain more
or less permanently in Germany. Although my study excluded temporary mi-
grants and guest workers, they nevertheless constitute a major migration of labor
that is also vulnerable due to its citizenship. The recruitment of these workers
is managed through a number of separate policies. Special treaties with Croatia,
Poland, Slovakia, Slovenia, Hungary, and other eastern European countries per-
mitted more than 300,000 foreign seasonal workers (Saisonarbeitnehmer) to work
on a temporary basis in the agricultural, hotel, and restaurant sectors in 2002. Other
treaties with eastern European countries and Turkey allowed 57,000 work per-
mits to be issued in 2002 to foreign contract workers (Werksvertragsarbeiter). These
workers make social insurance contributions not in Germany but in their coun-
tries of permanent residence, which prevents them from acquiring legal privi-
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leges and social insurance entitlements in Germany. In addition, almost 5,000

nonseasonal guest workers (Gastarbeiter) received work permits for a maximum
of eighteen months in Germany. Roughly 9,000 workers from Poland, the Czech
Republic, and other neighboring countries held work permits that enabled them
to work in Germany under the condition that they return to their home coun-
tries on a daily basis. Finally, up to 8,600 highly skilled IT professionals worked
in Germany with the German green card (Beauftragte der Bundesregierung für
Migration, Flüchtlinge und Integration 2004; Bundesanstalt für Arbeit 2003).
These temporary migrants and guest workers are expected to leave Germany
after their work authorization terminates. While working in Germany, they are
deprived of many social and economic benefits granted to German workers. They
also lack occupational choice and often receive wages that would be unaccept-
able to German workers. These non-EU nationals constitute a cheaper and more
flexible workforce than German citizens.
Although social scientists have recently focused on substantive citizenship
as a mechanism of inclusion and exclusion, formal citizenship continues to be
of central importance to the regulation of labor markets in the context of im-
migration. The boundaries that define formal citizenship and legal status in
Germany are by no means static but change continuously with the economic and
political climate. Foreigners who were born on German soil, for example, are in-
creasingly treated as Germans.13 The dynamic nature of categorization suggests
that the labor market consequences of citizenship will be different in the future
than they are now. However, until immigration policy is decoupled from the
objective of managing the domestic economy, citizenship-based schemes of ex-
ploitation are likely to continue. Under Germany’s new immigration law, immi-
gration is even more closely linked to labor market policy, and the citizenship of
a worker determines if, and under what circumstances, a person can work in
Germany. Citizenship exploitation seems to be on the rise, not in decline.
Citizenship privilege, however, does not always translate into labor market
success. Even Spätaussiedler experience considerable difficulty in their effort to
obtain decent employment. As stop-gap workers, they fulfill a similar func-
tion as other immigrants. What keeps Spätaussiedler from turning their legal
privileges into labor market privilege? Apparently, the relationship between
citizenship and labor market prospects is not symmetrical; that is, although
non-German and non-EU citizens are legally excluded, migrants with Ger-
man citizenship are not necessarily included. In the next chapter, I show that,
in the absence of citizenship-based mechanisms of subordination, other pro-
cesses of labor market exclusion grow in importance and relegate even legally
advantaged immigrants to the bottom of the labor market.
◆ 7
DEVALUED GERMANS
Despite the privilege of German citizenship, Spätaussiedler experience difficul-

ties in the German labor market. Unemployment tends to be high, and many of
those who are employed fill positions in the secondary segment of the labor
market. A problem for many Spätaussiedler is that their former occupations do
not exist or are not in demand in Germany. Tractor operators, technicians in
the oil industry, and coal miners from the former Soviet Union have difficulty
finding employment in their fields, particularly in Berlin. Other Spätaussiedler
still work in their general field, but below their original qualifications. Of these,
many are denied work in their former occupations because their foreign occupa-
tional and educational credentials are not recognized by German authorities and
employers. Government efforts to streamline the transferability of foreign creden-
tials have concentrated on countries within the European Union (Schneider 1995);
however, Spätaussiedler from the territory of the former Soviet Union do not
benefit from these efforts. Although, as German citizens, they are legally entitled
to credential assessment, exclusionary practices in the credential assessment and
recognition process still make it difficult for Spätaussiedler to obtain work in the
upper labor market segment. These immigrants fall victim to a double standard
that values domestic and foreign credentials differently.
The nonrecognition of foreign credentials as a mechanism of labor devalua-
tion is not unusual in countries that receive large numbers of immigrants, as
illustrated in chapter 5 in the case of immigrants in Vancouver. In Germany,
Spätaussiedler present an interesting group because they enjoy citizenship rights
and privileges unavailable to other immigrant groups. They receive full legal labor
market access, economic integration assistance, the right to credential assessment,
privileged treatment by labor market institutions, and, unlike foreigners and natu-
ralized migrants, they are able to use their foreign qualifications to establish small
businesses and offer vocational apprenticeships. In some instances, Spätaussiedler
DEVALUED GERMANS 125
even receive preferential treatment relative to other Germans, for example, when
applying for small business loans (Juris 2003, BFVG §14).
In light of these privileges, labor devaluation through legal exclusion is ap-
parently not an issue for Spätaussiedler. Rather, labor devaluation is achieved
through other mechanisms, including credential nonrecognition. That simi-
lar processes of de-skilling affect skilled immigrants in Berlin and Vancouver
is not coincidental. Spätaussiedler in Germany and immigrants in Canada both
have relatively similar labor market access as nonmigrant workers. In Germany,
Spätaussiedler are citizens, and in Canada, landed immigrants have economic
rights similar to citizens. In both cases, legal processes that subordinate immi-
grant labor do not operate. Under such circumstances, the process of subordi-
nation shifts to the realm of institutional cultural capital. Although the general
labor market situation, legal contexts, migration histories, and political condi-
tions differ between Vancouver and Berlin, the practice of devaluing immigrant
labor through the nonrecognition of foreign credentials is remarkably similar
between the two countries and the two cities.
The Nonrecognition of Credentials

The experiences of the interview respondents illustrate that Spätaussiedler con-
front considerable difficulties in the labor market of Berlin. Several respondents
who serve or work with this immigrant group said that many of their clients are
unemployed, and those clients who do have jobs work mostly in low-skill oc-
cupations. The following excerpts describe the general labor market profile of
Spätaussiedler that make up the client base of the surveyed nongovernmental
organizations:
Most of those who we place into the first [unsubsidized] labor market are
people with low qualifications, who work in cleaning firms, in small busi-
nesses. And yes, they are regularly exploited and work for very low wages.
[Spätaussiedler] take on the lowest jobs. They receive the lowest hourly
wages. [They assume] work that nobody else wants. Cleaning woman, many
men work for cleaning firms, for example in the S-Bahn [light-rail urban
transit system], in building cleaning. Construction, many with secondary
education work in installation.
Everyone works on an entry-level step. They get 8 Marks an hour, or work

in construction.
Respondents also mentioned that Spätaussiedler often work as truck drivers,
manual laborers, geriatric nurses, and in temporary labor agencies.
Spätaussiedler play an important role in the German economy as a flexible

labor force, if not at the very bottom, then still relatively low in the labor mar-
ket. This role is particularly apparent in temporary labor agencies (Peck and
Theodore 2001). These agencies require workers who are skilled, but who work
under flexible schedules and ideally for low pay. Spätaussiedler tend to fit this
description. The manager of a settlement nongovernmental organization re-
marks that “temporary agencies like to hire Aussiedler because of their low wage
level.” Another informant implies that the low wage levels of temp workers do
not reflect the value of their labor: “Temp agencies take advantage of the situ-
ation, that they buy [Spät]aussiedler for 11 Marks and rent them for 20 Marks
per hour. A lucrative business.” Many of these immigrants sell their labor below
its value, because it is difficult for them to claim higher wages and more job
stability when they lack formally recognized credentials.
German law states explicitly that Spätaussiedler’s “exams and proof of quali-
fication must be recognized, if they are equivalent to the corresponding” Ger-
man qualifications (Juris 2003, BFVG §10, my translation). Despite this
legislation, credential nonrecognition remains a major labor market barrier
for Spätaussiedler. One interviewee sees this as a major problem for her clients:
“In the context of labor market integration, the nonrecognition of degrees is an
important topic. It is a gigantic problem, whether high school diploma, uni-
versity degree, or employment experience. There are people who already have
twenty years of employment experience . . . and nothing is recognized.” Another
respondent even ranks credential nonrecognition as the most important bar-
rier to labor market success: “This is actually the most serious problem about
taking up employment. The degrees that many migrants obtained in their home
countries are not recognized here. We have a [client] who managed five or six
large canteens with her husband in their hometown. Their job is not recognized
and her husband works as kitchen helper. This is really the biggest problem.”
The issue of de-skilling is not that the value of foreign education and certifi-
cation is entirely nullified. Rather, in most cases, de-skilling entails a devalua-
tion and reduction of skill levels. Thus, educational credentials obtained in the
former Soviet Union and eastern Europe are generally acknowledged but ac-
cepted at a lower level. A settlement counselor is a tad sarcastic when she ob-
serves that educational credentials are “of course” recognized: “If they have the
Spätaussiedler documents [Spätaussiedlerausweis], then their education is of
course recognized: a secondary educational degree [Abitur] is recognized as
intermediate school [Realschule], two years of college [Hochschule] is recognized
as a high school diploma. That’s quite something.”
As with educational credentials, occupational qualifications are frequently
devalued. German law regulates occupations in the fields of health, pedagogy,
food production and inspection, agriculture and forestry, law, and accountancy
as well as technical and trade occupations. In addition, all government employ-

ment is regulated. To practice in regulated occupations, an employee must have
specific diplomas and/or certification. Although Spätaussiedler have the formal
right to the recognition of their certificates, they are rarely able to convert their
foreign certification into the German equivalent.1 If diplomas and certificates
are formally recognized, it is often at a lower level. A respondent reports a few
examples that illustrate the degree of de-skilling: “Engineers are generally recog-
nized as technicians. The ones with Technikum, which was between vocational
school [Berufsschule] and college [Hochschule], are relegated to trades occupa-
tions.” For accreditation, the structure and contents of the foreign program are
required to match that of the corresponding German certificate program
(Kultusministerkonferenz [KMK] 1995: A.1). A decree of the Standing Confer-
ence of the Ministers of Education specifies that technical diplomas (Techniker)
from the former Soviet Union correspond to the lower category of skilled work-
ers (Facharbeiter) in Germany (KMK 2003c). The Senate Administration of Ber-
lin, which evaluates foreign credentials, is bound by this decree. Immigrants whose
labor is devalued in this fashion can either work in an occupation related to their
field but at a lower wage and prestige level, or they are pushed into an unrelated
occupation in the secondary segment of the labor market or unemployment.
A distinction must be made between regulated occupations, such as doc-
tors, educators, and lawyers, in which recognition is nearly impossible, and
nonregulated occupations, in which employers are not bound by law to hire
workers with specific credentials but can use their own discretion in assessing
the credentials of a job applicant (KMK 2003a). Nevertheless, even in the occu-
pations not regulated by government, Spätaussiedler rarely find employment
in their field. Employers often do not consider foreign credentials, particularly
from the former Soviet Union, as equal to German credentials in the same oc-
cupation. In addition, government agencies, which offer additional training and
skill-upgrade programs to immigrants in regulated professions, sometimes refuse
to provide similar programs to immigrants in nonregulated occupations. An
employment counselor suggests that Spätaussiedler in nonregulated occupations
therefore experience an additional disadvantage, because the career counselors
at the Employment Office expect that the immigrants will be able to seamlessly
enter the labor market without additional training: “[Many migrants] have for-
mal credentials [in a nonregulated occupation], well then, they do not need
further training or education. The career guidance officer says: ‘You have cre-
dentials. Here are addresses. Simply apply.’ But, of course, businesses do not
take [migrants] who obtained their credentials [abroad]. The formal paper is
not enough if one has not gone through the local system.” Employers’ belief in
the superiority of the German education and training systems, in combination
with the denial of training upgrades by government institutions, translates into
the devaluation of Spätaussiedler’s credentials, even in the occupations that are

not regulated by the state.
Another problem frequently mentioned in the interviews is the nonrecogni-
tion of foreign work experience. A typical comment was: “Teachers, medical
professionals, there are people who have twenty years of work experience . . .
and all this is not recognized.” Workers who have experience in an occupation
outside of their field of study have another problem. If practical experience is
not preceded by a corresponding degree, then a worker is not credited for the
experience. An employment counselor alludes to this problem: “In the Soviet
Union, you studied in a certain subject and then worked completely outside of
this subject. For example, I counseled a physics teacher who worked in a waste-
water treatment plant and had ten years of experience. And he had problems
[finding employment] in a treatment plant here because he did not have the
qualifications.”
Even workers with practical experience in their field of training often get no
credit for their experience if their degrees are not accredited. An employment
counselor who resettled from Russia finds herself in the bizarre situation of
having her work experience invalidated because she did not acquire her practi-
cal training, as a component of her degree program, in the exact manner de-
manded by German regulators: “In Russia an academic education is followed
by practical training, but the practical hours are insufficient for Germany. It had
to be more, and therefore it is not recognized. For example, in Russia I was a tai-
lor. I attended a technical vocational school [technischen Berufsschule]. After school,
I worked in the evenings. I worked for seven years, but here it is not recognized
because there were too few practical hours in practical training. That I worked
seven years did not make a difference. I do not have practical experience!” This
same respondent explains that her clients encounter similar problems but in other
occupations: “Exactly the same happens with doctors, who worked in the best
clinics in Moscow and who do not have a chance here [of getting recognition for
their experience]. Doctors, university teachers and educators, they have almost
no chance here and have to start from the beginning.” In these occupations, work
experience is recognized only if both practical and academic components of the
degree program match those of the equivalent German degree. Decades of labor
market experience can be nullified if the incorrect amount of practical training
hours was part of an otherwise accredited degree program.
While credential nonrecognition has obvious negative consequences for the
immigrants who see their training and diplomas devalued, even immigrants who
successfully attempt to get their foreign degrees accredited experience problems.
During the time period necessary to complete the formalities, training programs,
and/or additional certification to qualify for employment in their field, they are
not able to work and their practical experience becomes outdated. Similar prob-
lems arise from the delays of resettlement, which tend to be associated with an
elaborate bureaucratic process. A settlement program administrator expounds
on this issue:
The application for relocation [to Germany] is for many [Spätaussiedler]
associated with the withdrawal from their work. . . . They come to Germany
and are busy for three or six months with their documents and so on. Then
they participate for six months in a German-language program. So one year
passes, without the possibility for them to work. . . . Altogether there is a
minimum period of two years—more often four to five years—in which
they do not work. In this situation they are devalued in the labor market
because their knowledge of their subject is invalid, it is obsolete. If their
résumé indicates “since 1998 unemployed,” you won’t be able to place this
person [into employment].
The interruptions in the employment history due to the credential assessment
and recognition process and the formalities of immigration often trigger a down-
ward spiral of diminishing labor market opportunities.
Legitimating Credential Nonrecognition

The conventional explanation for the devaluation of foreign credentials is that
the content, quality, and length of education and training differ between Ger-
many and foreign countries. German law specifies that the accreditation of for-
eign educational degrees is possible only when a corresponding degree exists in
Germany (KMK 2003b). An education counselor explains that some of her cli-
ents from the former Soviet Union have degrees in subjects “that do not exist
in Germany, for example, methodology and psychology in primary education.”
In these cases, accreditation is not possible. If a comparable degree exists in
Germany, then both degrees must represent the same number of years of educa-
tion. In the former Soviet Union, a degree from a secondary educational institu-
tion is typically obtained in a shorter time than in Germany. In this case, an
immigrant’s educational degree cannot be converted into the German equivalent
degree. Several respondents remarked that, for this reason, a degree from the
former Soviet Union cannot be equated with a German degree: “In Russia there
are only ten or eleven grades, that’s not enough for here,” or “grade 12 and 13 are
missing to acquire the Abitur.” It is generally accepted as common sense in the
German government bureaucracy that convertible degrees should embody a simi-
lar number of years and that a mismatch of years leads to the devaluation of the
foreign degree to the next lower level of an existing German degree.
German regulations allow nongovernmental organizations to offer supple-
mental education and training programs to compensate for the gap in length of
education (Anabin 2003: 5.3). For example, the Otto-Benecke Foundation of-
fers a two-year educational program that enables immigrants with a secondary
diploma from eastern Europe to meet the educational standards required for
entrance into German universities. However, most immigrants who would
qualify for such programs do not participate in these programs or fail to obtain
the German equivalent to a secondary diploma.
Even when a German degree and a foreign degree entail a similar number of
years of education and training, the recognition of the foreign degree is not
guaranteed. In many cases, the nonrecognition of occupational credentials is
then justified by differences in content between German and foreign programs.
An administrator in the Employment Office (Arbeitsamt) stresses the signifi-
cance of equivalent content: “In regard to the recognition of certificates, one
must consider the quality of training in comparable occupations. The content
differs often, so that comparability cannot easily be established. During the re-
view the content is properly assessed: What was taught, and is it comparable to
the knowledge and skills of German training? If yes, then the certificate will be
recognized. If no, it will not be recognized as equivalent.” In technical occupa-
tions, German degree programs tend to combine practical and academic com-
ponents. If the same combination is not reflected in the foreign degree, then
the degree cannot be accredited. An official in the Berlin Senate Administra-
tion points out that the German technical degree tends to be superior, in terms of
the practical component, to foreign technical degrees: “In Germany, [technicians]
need vocational training and practical training, and then the technical degree. And
this is not so [in the Commonwealth of Independent States], where someone can
pursue a technical degree immediately after ten years of school. They therefore
lack enormous practical knowledge.” Another example is teaching. In this occu-
pation, differences exist in the contents of the degree program. A settlement coun-
selor explains: “The situation with teachers is that [in Germany] the degree is
completed with two main subjects. In the Soviet Union there was only one sub-
ject. [Spätaussiedler] who settle here cannot become teachers.”
The ideological orientation of training and educational programs is another
criterion in the nonrecognition of foreign credentials. Many Spätaussiedler
obtained their degrees under the socialist regime of the former Soviet Union.
These degrees often contained ideological approaches to the discipline and/or
profession that are deemed unacceptable in Germany, with its free-market ori-
entation. The administrator of a nongovernmental organization says that teach-
ers (who already experience difficulties because they specialize in only one
subject) are particularly affected by this ideological incompatibility: “Teachers
aren’t recognized at all because the ideology isn’t right.” Other occupations are
also affected: “What is generally not recognized are certificates in the field of
economics. . . . Lawyers and graduates in the arts and humanities—one can list
entire groups—are handicapped in this way.”
Institutional Practices
The authority of credential recognition rests largely with the state. Two examples
can be used to illustrate the role of different government institutions in the
devaluation of migrant labor. The first example is the occupation of medical
doctor, which is among the most tightly regulated occupations by the state. The
second example relates to the practices of the Employment Office (Arbeitsamt),
which is a key institution in the devaluation of immigrant labor.
A particular characteristic of the medical profession is that certification alone
does not provide access to employment. In addition to certification, the Berlin
Senate Administration must grant a license to practice medicine (Approbation)
to the individual worker. Between 1996 and 2002, the Senate Administra-
tion of Berlin issued between 900 and 1,100 medical licenses (Medizinischer
Newsservice 2003). As I explained in the previous chapter, the Approbation is
given only to German and European Union citizens. Technically, Spätaussiedler,
who fulfill the citizenship requirement, should be in a privileged position com-
pared to other immigrants. This legal privilege, however, rarely provides actual
access to this profession. The nonrecognition of foreign credentials contin-
ues to exclude immigrants from acquiring the Approbation. To obtain the
medical license, an applicant must have completed six years of medical edu-
cation at a university or equivalent and participated in eighteen months of
practical training. Applicants must also be in good physical health and have
no criminal record (Landesamt für Gesundheit und Soziales 2003). An ad-
ministrator in the office responsible for issuing the license to practice medi-
cine in Berlin confirms the formal eligibility of Spätaussiedler for the license
to practice: “[A Spätaussiedler] normally comes here and can say: ‘I’m a medi-
cal doctor and want to work here. Can I do that?’ Then we examine his or her
education, citizenship, police record, Aussiedler status; then we say: ‘Positive!
You are German, you are healthy and without criminal record and we assess
your education in this manner.’” The final remark by this respondent hints at
potential difficulties with the appraisal of education. Indeed, the nonrecog-
nition of education constitutes one of the main problems for Spätaussiedler
in obtaining the medical license to practice. The same respondent noted later
in the interview that “usually, the [medical] education of the former USSR
cannot be considered equal” to the German education. He explains: “One
should not forget that, in many countries, credentials for medical doctor can
be obtained much more easily. If someone was educated in the USSR, then
one year of practical activity had to be performed as a part of the degree. Then,
in their view, one was already something like a medical specialist. Here the
minimum practical training period [for medical specialist] is four years.” If
the quality and content of the foreign educational program is not considered
equal, then the Approbation will not be issued.
To give Spätaussiedler the opportunity to upgrade their skills to meet do-

mestic medical standards, the Berlin Senate Administration can issue a time-
limited work permit to practice for up to four years. With upgraded skills, the
Spätaussiedler would be eligible for the unlimited Approbation.2 But even after
practicing for four years in Germany with a time-limited license, the equiva-
lence to the German degree is often denied. In such cases, immigrants do not
receive the unlimited Approbation and have to terminate their careers as medical
doctors. An employment counselor, for example, reports that a client who was
a medical doctor in Russia has, in practical terms, “no chance for [Approba-
tion]. She would need to complete twelve exams in German language. She al-
ready said before the first exam that she would not pass. It is unrealistic for her
[to continue] as a medical doctor.” Along the same lines, an administrator of
an education and training program reports that clients who came to Germany
as highly skilled medical professionals experienced massive de-skilling and now
work in the secondary labor market: “Medical doctors have almost no chance
to obtain a license. When a doctor from Russia arrives, then we have experi-
enced very dramatic situations, that highly skilled people with an incredible
amount of experience were the last [people] who had a chance of employment.
[Now] they work far below their qualifications.”
The second example illustrates the role of the Employment Office (Arbeitsamt)
in the devaluation of labor. The Employment Office’s practices related to career
counseling and labor market placement tend to disadvantage Spätaussiedler and
foreclose opportunities in the primary labor market. For example, counselors
in the Employment Office advise immigrants on labor market matters, includ-
ing whether they should pursue additional education and training to become
accredited in their previous occupations or should pursue alternative careers.
Some informants had the opinion that the staff of the Employment Office ac-
tively discourage Spätaussiedler from pursuing accreditation of their creden-
tials, instead channeling Spätaussiedler into low-skill employment. An officer
in a nongovernmental organization for Spätaussiedler says, “The office of em-
ployment says, for example, to doctors, engineers, and so on: ‘Forget it, care for
the elderly is called for.’ I also know a librarian, she never had anything to do
with old and sick people and then retrained to become a geriatric nurse. Every-
one becomes a geriatric or medical nurse. The librarian was in her mid-40s and
had never seen blood. In the middle of her program she collapsed and had to be
picked up [by one of our staff].”
To claim that Employment Office staff blatantly discriminate against
Spätaussiedler or purposefully degrade their labor would be unfair. In light
of existing processes of institutional capital devaluation, the recommendation
to focus on alternative career paths may in fact be good advice. The practices in
the Employment Office to channel Spätaussiedler into lower-skill occupations
reflect, to a large degree, the regulations imposed by other institutions. For ex-
ample, if foreign credentials are not recognized by the Berlin Senate Adminis-
tration, then the Employment Office cannot refer clients to their premigration
occupations. In addition, an important objective of the Employment Office is
to introduce immigrants into the social insurance system so that they become
eligible to claim benefits after one year of regular employment. If employment in
the previous occupation is not immediately possible because of nonaccreditation,
then Spätaussiedler are typically referred to employment in lower-skill positions,
where they can start working immediately, in order to qualify for social insur-
ance benefits as soon as possible. A employment counselor in a nongovernmental
organization that cooperates closely with the Employment Office explains the
significance of this labor market entrance, even in low-status employment:
“Sometimes we say, okay, if nothing else works, then you will clean one year.
Then you will have at least acquired the status of a regularly registered unem-
ployed person at the Employment Office. You receive services from the Em-
ployment Office. The Employment Office is obligated to serve you. The state
simply recognizes you differently, no matter whether someone worked as a jani-
tor, newspaper carrier, or packer.” The common effect of this effort to integrate
immigrants into the social insurance system is occupational de-skilling. In this
case, labor devaluation is a concession made by Spätaussiedler to ensure eco-
nomic security and to acquire access to the social welfare system.
Labor Market Regulation

The devaluation of labor, associated with the nonrecognition of foreign creden-
tials and the invalidation of foreign work experience, affects mostly immigrants
with occupations belonging to the upper segments of the labor market. These
occupations, including medical doctor, lawyer, and engineer, tend to be regu-
lated, whereas lower-skill occupations are less likely to be regulated. One re-
spondent comments on the effect of regulating the primary labor market
segment to a greater degree than the secondary segment: “The higher the level
of education, the lower the chances for [labor market] integration. An absurd
phenomenon that we experience. We can observe that the chances [for employ-
ment] are higher among the ethnic Germans from Russia who come from re-
gions with relatively low levels of education.” By prohibiting immigrants with
foreign credentials from working in well-paying and prestigious occupations
in the primary labor market segment, the government allows German-born
and -educated workers exclusive access to these occupations. For example, in
the medical field, the German education system produces the number of doc-
tors needed to fill the available positions. A bureaucrat in the Berlin Senate
Administration explains that there is therefore no need to offer licenses to foreign-
trained doctors: “What works generally against issuing a license to practice [to
Spätaussiedler] is that there is a sufficient number of doctors in the state [Land]
of Berlin who provide care. And therefore we do not need more doctors.” De-
mand for doctors is satisfied by the German education system, educating mostly
German-born medical students. The process of credential nonrecognition effec-
tively keeps foreign-trained Spätaussiedler out of this particular labor market.
Workers with devalued or invalidated credentials are not only degraded to
the next lower occupation; they are often pushed to the very bottom of the labor
market. Once their skills are formally devalued, they may not even be suited for
employment in semiskilled occupations. The director of a settlement service
organization, which at one time hired its own clients in an effort to help
them enter the labor market at a semiskilled level, explains: “We used to [hire
Spätaussiedler] in the beginning—for reasons of solidarity. But that was a mis-
take because we did not realize that we require German office clerks for Ger-
man office work and not Soviet engineers. With German engineers this wouldn’t
work either. . . . These are simply things that require a little experience, an oc-
cupational qualification.” Engineers without recognized credentials have few
chances for employment in the semiskilled occupations. They are more likely
to find unskilled jobs.
In the eyes of many interviewees, the degradation of highly skilled Spätaussiedler
to employment in some of the lowest-prestige occupations is a common phenom-
enon. The following excerpts are among numerous responses that describe this
phenomenon:
[My client] is a cleaning woman. But she completed university and has
twenty years of experience in precision engineering. She was a senior engi-
neer. And the representative at the Office of Employment [Arbeitsamt]
could not say anything else [but] “We referred her to this [occupation],”
as cleaning woman! We often have cases like these.
No teacher is recognized as teacher. Therefore they [clients with teaching

degrees] go into construction; janitor is a common occupation; room maid.
Only when highly skilled and experienced workers stay within their general
field of training do they have a chance to escape relegation into the lowest seg-
ment of the labor market. A career counselor who advises Spätaussiedler finds
that many of her clients pursue a labor market strategy of remaining in their
general field of training: “Many [of our clients] work below qualifications and
not in their [previous] occupation, but electrical engineers work as electricians,
medical doctors as nurses, or they retrain as geriatric nurses.” Another respon-
dent states that “many [medical doctors with foreign credentials] try to stay close
to the medical profession by working in nursing.” And a settlement counselor
reports about the experiences of two of her clients: “[One client said], ‘I have
managed for twenty-three years a gynecological section [in a hospital] and now
I should work as a midwife-assistant.’ This woman shed tears. And an orthope-
dist was offered a position as plasterer in a hospital.” Although these are dis-
couraging experiences for immigrants, working in subordinate occupations
but still in their general field of training enables Spätaussiedler to at least apply
their expertise and training as semiskilled workers. However, they also fill the
positions that German workers reject. One respondent notes that many of
the Spätaussiedler who work as nurses in senior homes perform “exactly the
type of work that the indigenous population does not want.” In these situations,
where highly skilled labor works in semiskilled occupations, the process of la-
bor devaluation funnels qualified workers into low-prestige occupations where
competent and reliable, but also cheap, labor is more than welcome.
Labor market policies, which regulate top-tier occupations more tightly than
the middle-range and secondary occupations, are an important element in the
management of the German labor market through the vehicle of immigration.
In particular, some immigrants work in unregulated occupations where they
apply their skills and experience but are paid relatively low wages because they
are denied their professional titles. An informant explains how this process works
in the context of the medical field: “While the title and the practice of academic
[medical] occupations are protected, occupations [in nonacademic occupations,
i.e., nursing or massage therapy] can be practiced, but the job title may not be
used. The immigrant can therefore come here and does not need accreditation.
He only needs someone who lets him work. If he doesn’t have the title, then, in
most cases, he will be subordinated in his labor contract to someone with per-
mission to carry the job title.” In this scenario, the main beneficiaries of labor
devaluation are employers, who receive highly skilled and experienced workers
for lower wages than German-trained workers would demand.
In a similar vein, German employers are able to exploit the vulnerability of
immigrant workers who struggle with de-skilling and who seek to upgrade their
skills in an effort to prevent the total nullification of their credentials. Several
respondents reported that employers often hire highly qualified Spätaussiedler
as cheap apprentices and interns. A settlement counselor, for example, com-
plains about a company that employs her clients so long as they participate in
job-training programs, but then refuses to hire them as regular employees: “We
have a partner [in the private industry]. We start and provide occupational
counseling and refer our participants there. . . . Of eighty participants about
twenty are actually working—but not always permanently. Possibly they return
[to us] after the probationary period. The firm takes someone else, because they
are cheaper during the probation period.” Two other informants report on
employers who receive excellent workers as interns who are typically paid at the
wage level of an apprentice:
I know from our young interns that [employers] look closely at the [skills
of applicants]. Someone has a company for agricultural machines, and the
young man has university education and work experience exactly in the
field required by the employer.
We have a lawyer here. He passed his first state examination in Irkutsk,
which was recognized. He attempted in Germany the second state exami-
nation but failed. The man is highly intelligent, but he could not cope with
the exams from a language point of view. . . . He [now] completes an in-
ternship once a week with a lawyer . . . at which he participates in com-
munication with clients.
Skilled and educated Spätaussiedler do not unlearn their skills or forget their
knowledge. Rather, their labor is devalued, preventing them from claiming wages
that would reflect their skill levels. Institutional processes associated with cre-
dential nonrecognition thereby supply a competent labor force cheaply to the
German economy.
Conclusion
In the middle of the interview, an administrator in the Federal Office of Labor
(Bundesanstalt für Arbeit) critiqued my study with the following words: “How
many studies like this have there been? I think everyone already knows what
the cause is: level of education.” This quote illustrates a common misconcep-
tion about the labor market barriers that exist for Spätaussiedler. Formally, it
appears as if many immigrants do not possess the human capital necessary to
enter the primary segment of the labor market. However, the problem for many
Spätaussiedler is not so much that they lack actual education or skills, but that
their education and skills are devalued through the nonrecognition of their
institutional credentials. The institutionalized cultural capital that the immi-
grants acquired abroad is invalid or devalued in the German labor market. A
settlement counselor who has worked extensively with Spätaussiedler acknowl-
edges this process (although he equates human capital and institutional cre-
dentials, which, I think, should be treated as two conceptually distinct labor
attributes): “For every qualification there is a certificate. And Germany is certi-
fication country, and what I don’t have in black and white, does not exist. . . .
There have been attempts in Germany to certify informal knowledge through
assessment. However, this is very complicated and expensive. One would need
to certify every immigrant. Who can afford this? Thus it leads to devaluation.
Human capital is being destroyed.”
What social and economic processes and what motivations underlie this sys-
tem of institutional labor market regulation? Bourdieu (1984; Bourdieu and
Passeron 1977) suggests that institutionalized cultural capital in the form of
credentials enables privileged groups to control their own reproduction. He
suggests that processes of social distinction are played out in varying institu-
tional arenas and that privileged groups strategically create and valorize forms
of capital to solidify their social and economic status. In the context of German
immigration, Spätaussiedler constitute a new group of residents who possess
citizenship privileges and potentially threaten the status of native-born Germans.
The latter therefore have an interest in defining entry regulations to the most
prestigious occupations in such a manner that German-born and -educated
workers have access to these occupations and the newcomers are excluded.
This social interpretation of labor market processes should be complemented
by a political economy perspective, which suggests that immigrants serve a par-
ticular economic role. Spätaussiedler tend to fill the lower segment of the labor
market, where they often provide an extremely capable workforce for the wages
of semiskilled or unskilled labor. Processes of social distinction and the man-
agement of labor in the interest of capital complement each other. In other
words, German workers see their labor market privileges valorized relative to
the newcomers, and German employers receive the vulnerable, skilled, flexible,
and cheap workers they desire.
The institutional regulation of labor markets does not occur in an ideological
vacuum. In the previous chapter, I presented citizenship as an ideology that
subordinates non-German and non-European immigrant workers. In this chap-
ter, I focused on Spätaussiedler, who, as German citizens, circumvent citizenship-
based processes of distinction and exclusion yet are still not on a level playing
field with nonmigrant workers who were educated and trained in Germany.
The representation of the German education and training system as superior to
foreign systems legitimates the devaluation or invalidation of the foreign creden-
tials of Spätaussiedler. A senior administrator in the Berlin Senate Administra-
tion recognizes the strategic nature of valorizing the local educational system
and jokingly remarks, “Our educational system is held highly. It is worth a lot—
at least that is how it is always represented.” Ideologies of citizenship and cre-
dentials can both produce similar effects of labor market segmentation, but they
target different groups of immigrants.
◆ 8
BETWEEN SUPPORT AND EXCLUSION
In North America, the value of the ethnic community is deeply ingrained in

national mythology. Ethnic communities supposedly enable immigrants to
move from rags to riches, from dishwasher to millionaire. Neither John F.
Kennedy nor Al Capone would have risen to the top of their trades without
the support of their Irish and Italian communities, which endowed these fig-
ures with the best and the worst cultural qualities. In recent decades, how-
ever, a counternarrative involving ethnic communities has also appeared in
popular mythology. African Americans and Latino communities supposedly
keep their members from absorbing the virtues of mainstream society, infect-
ing their members with a culture of despair.1 The causal link between ethnic
community and success or failure seems unquestioned—although the exact
processes that supposedly render members of ethnic and immigrant commu-
nities inferior remain unsubstantiated.
In the labor market, ethnic communities can create opportunities and fa-
cilitate segmentation and subordination. For example, information about em-
ployment opportunities often travels through ethnic networks and among family
members. These opportunities can lead to a comfortable job in corporate bank-
ing or to underpaid employment as a maid or a helper in a corner store. Some
entrepreneurs may, in fact, recruit workers through ethnic and immigrant net-
works because community and family linkages result in a particularly vulner-
able, yet disciplined, labor force.
Whereas the previous two chapters focused on legal and institutional mecha-
nisms of exclusion, the current chapter brings the discussion back to informal
processes of distinction and exclusion. As in Vancouver, these less tangible,
informal processes operate in Berlin, and they complement legal and institu-
tional processes of subordination that affect immigrant labor. Informal processes
of distinction and exclusion affect, in particular, those immigrants who escape
legal exclusion because they possess citizenship, such as Spätaussiedler, or they
BETWEEN SUPPORT AND EXCLUSION 139
have acquired economic and social rights by living and working in Germany
for decades, such as Turkish immigrants. I illustrated in part II how exclusion-
ary processes associated with habitus and embodied cultural capital operate. In
this chapter, I focus on social networks, the ethnic economy, and residential
immigrant concentration.
Social Networks
The North American literature has demonstrated that social networks are of
critical importance to the economic well-being of some immigrant groups. In
Los Angeles, Miami, New York, San Diego, and Vancouver, immigrants rely on
social networks that facilitate entrepreneurship and employment in particular
sectors of the economy. The exchange of information about business opportu-
nities and job openings enables immigrant communities to penetrate, some-
times even dominate, niche labor markets (Light et al 1999; Mattingly 1999;
Portes and Bach 1985; Waldinger 1986). Social networks create job opportuni-
ties for immigrants that otherwise would not exist. Of course, the immigrant ex-
perience is not universal, and North American research has also shown that the
extent of social networks and their value in producing business and employment
opportunities depend on the size of the ethnic community, migration history of
the ethnic group, settlement context, and other factors. For example, my earlier
analysis of immigration in Vancouver revealed that social networks are of vary-
ing importance to immigrants from South Asia and the former Yugoslavia and
that these groups use their networks in different ways. Despite this variability, social
networks are generally seen as an important factor for the labor market integra-
tion of immigrants and sometimes for their upward mobility.
In Berlin, social networks are generally less important in producing economic
opportunities for immigrants than in North America. This diminished impor-
tance is partially a result of strong formal labor market institutions, which ab-
sorb some of the functions performed by informal social networks in Canada
and the United States. Most important, the Employment Office (Arbeitsamt)
catalogues unemployed workers and existing job openings and assumes a facil-
itating role in matching job seekers with employment opportunities. It also offers
skills training and generally assists newcomers in entering the German labor
market. Other formal organizations provide additional employment-related
services to immigrants. A representative of a nongovernmental organization that
assists recently arrived immigrants says that his organization helps bridge the
gap between the immigrant and the labor market: “We know so many businesses
and we can simply call and try to arrange a position for practical training.
And we accomplish this. We also know a lot of medical doctors and travel
agencies. . . . Our clients do not have large social networks here, so we assume
this responsibility.”
Despite this guiding role of formal institutions, social networks are a rec-
ognizable force in shaping the labor market experiences of immigrants in
Berlin. The literature illustrates the role of Berlin’s Turkish immigrant com-
munity in producing entrepreneurial and employment opportunities for its
members (e.g., Goldberg and 1en 1997; Rudolph and Hillmann 1997). Not
all immigrant communities, however, have the same degree of social connec-
tion to the labor market, and even within a single immigrant group, large dif-
ferences can exist in the use of social and ethnic networks. Men and women,
for example, may use the ethnic resources available to them differently when
they establish a business (Wilpert 2003). The results of the interview survey
suggest that, as in Vancouver, Berlin’s recent immigrants from the former
Yugoslavia tend to rely less on personal and family networks for employment
than do other immigrant groups. Yet, former guest worker families from the
former Yugoslavia have been in Germany for decades and sometimes genera-
tions, and many of these immigrants have established social networks that
include nonmigrant Germans. On the other hand, recently arrived refugees,
many of whom do not possess work permits, are more likely to retreat into
family circles or the ethnic community.
In the case of recent refugees from the former Yugoslavia, formal exclusion
from the labor market and the confinement of social networks to the ethnic com-
munity are interconnected phenomena. The representative of a nongovernmen-
tal organization assisting refugees from the former Yugoslavia speaks to this point:
“In the context of groups which do not have access to the labor market, we ob-
serve that relations to the German society are also absent. Then the Social Ser-
vices Office [Sozialamt] is often the only link to German society.” These refugees
rarely use their ethnic and family networks to gain access to formal employment,
because legal access to the labor market is constrained for most of them in the
first place. Rather, they use their networks as a survival strategy to receive emo-
tional support and, in some cases, to obtain informal employment.2
Spätaussiedler have also cultivated strong social and ethnic networks, and
they use these networks in a variety of contexts. A volunteer at an immigrant
assistance agency, who herself is an immigrant from Russia, conveys her view
of this community in the following manner: “Our people are very helpful. We
help each other with everything, employment, furniture. We seek community.
Here [in Germany] no one ever leaves their homes.” The extended family often
forms the core of the social network. The same respondent remarks: “Family
means a lot to us. Grandmother, grandfather, mother, children, they live in one
household. That was so in Russia and it is the same here.” Another respondent
who works with this immigrant group commented on the advantages of the
extended family network: “They have large families and offer lots of support
within the family. The grandmother cooks for the entire family. That is her role
because the others are busy looking for work or learning the language.” Family
networks enable these immigrants to cope with relocation and their new mar-
ginal social and economic situation in Germany.
The desire and the ability to maintain strong family networks relate to a va-
riety of factors. First, the numbers of Spätaussiedler are large enough to sustain
an ethnic community. In the decade after the Iron Curtain was lifted, more than
40,000 Aussiedler and Spätaussiedler settled in Berlin (Bade and Oltmer 1999:
21). Second, federal policy entitled returning ethnic Germans to bring their
family members with them, leaving existing family relationships intact. Third,
many ethnic German immigrants are suspicious of formal institutions and gov-
ernment and prefer to rely on informal networks, unlike people born in Ger-
many, who have more faith in formal institutions and government offices. A
settlement counselor and Aussiedler from Ukraine explains: “People like to help
everywhere, but they do this in different manner. There [in the former Soviet
Union], helpfulness typically hinged on informal structures. ‘I immediately help
my neighbor, my friend, the friend of my friend, if one is asked nicely.’ But it
works through the personal network.” This mistrust of formal institutions and
government developed out of the experiences of ethnic Germans in the Soviet
Union. Stalin’s brutal regime forcefully relocated ethnic German communities
to Siberia, Kazakhstan, and other remote regions of the Soviet Union, and it
systematically discriminated against people of German origin (Bade and
Oltmer 1999; Bundeszentrale für politische Bildung 2000). Then, after their
arrival in Germany, the Spätaussiedler’s suspicion of formal institutions was
reinforced by the inability and unwillingness of the so-called Volksdeutsche
Landsmannschaften3 to support the newly arriving immigrants. Between 1960
and 1986, the Landsmannschaften dealt with a trickling flow of Aussiedler.4
By 1988 the numbers had swelled to 202,645 and peaked in 1990 with 397,067
(Bundeszentrale für politische Bildung 2000: 7). In light of these numbers,
the German public grew increasingly apprehensive of these “returning Ger-
mans,” and the Landsmannschaften distanced themselves from the newcom-
ers. A respondent explains that a conflict between generations within the
Landsmannschaften shaped the institutional attitudes toward the newcom-
ers: “Based on the emerging negative media reporting about the ethnic Ger-
man immigrants, they [Landsmannschaften] saw the newcomers as image
spoilers. ‘We were the good ones, and everyone commended us.’ And with
the new ones their image was diminished.” Feeling rejected by these institu-
tions, many Spätaussiedler compensated by focusing on their extended fam-
ily and personal networks.
Although social and family networks provide advantages to newcomers, they
can also socially isolate immigrants and their families. An administrator of a
program designed to help Spätaussiedler integrate into German society alludes
to this problem: “We are worried that they seclude themselves. They only speak
Russian [in their families], they have no German friends. There are therefore
positive and negative aspects with this constellation of family reunification.”

Ethnic and family networks are cultural resources that enable Spätaussiedler to
maintain the habitus of their communities in the former Soviet Union. These
experiences mirror the circumstances of many immigrant communities in other
countries: strong ethnic and social networks potentially isolate communities and
sometimes discourage newcomers from acquiring the dominant habitus and
cultural capital of the place of settlement. This disjunction between the immigrants’
and the dominant society’s habitus and cultural capital can initiate powerful pro-
cesses of marginalization that push immigrants into the secondary labor market
segment (as we have seen in chapters 3 and 4), exclude them from the labor mar-
ket altogether, or confine them to an ethnic economy. Social networks are an
important factor in shaping immigrants’ labor market situation because they
potentially slow processes of assimilation, thereby triggering cultural mechanisms
of labor market subordination.
Ethnic Economy
Social and ethnic networks can provide a direct link to the labor market because
they offer employment and entrepreneurial opportunities to newcomers in the
ethnic economy. These opportunities, however, often lead to low-wage and
unstable jobs in the secondary segment of the labor market. Evidence from North
America indicates that employment in ethnic and immigrant economies can be
associated with lasting labor market marginality. In New York and Los Ange-
les, ethnic networks routinely facilitate immigrants’ entry into personal clean-
ing and caretaking services, sweatshop manufacturing, and/or the informal
economy. Furthermore, the other side of ethnic and immigrant economies is
that ethnic entrepreneurs gain a competitive advantage by employing vulner-
able immigrant workers (Bonacich 1993). These entrepreneurs gain access to a
workforce of immigrants that is not only vulnerable to begin with but that can
be exploited most effectively by ethnic and family relationships. Roger Waldinger
(1996: 25) observes in a U.S. context that entrance in ethnic niche industries
“strengthens group identity [and] sharpens the distinction between insiders and
outsiders.” The price for building ethnic solidarity through economic means
entails concessions to labor standards and a false loyalty to coethnic entrepre-
neurs. In the words of Michael Peter Smith (2001: 89), the immigrant workers
in ethnic economies are “culturally manipulated” into passively accepting sub-
standard working conditions.
In Berlin, the case of Aussiedler and Spätaussiedler provides an example of a
niche labor market. Entrepreneurs from this group have created an ethnic niche
economy in geriatric care. These entrepreneurs hire other Spätaussiedler as
workers and provide services to the elderly of their own ethnic group. An inter-
viewee reports: “There are now nursing homes that were founded by motivated
Aussiedler themselves. They provide care exclusively to Russian speakers. They

are barred from providing care to native-born Germans. But for them this is
not a problem because they created their own client base.”
Immigrant entrepreneurs in this industry hire many of their workers through
family contacts and social networks. Other respondents said that ethnic Ger-
man immigrants also use their social and ethnic networks to obtain work in land-
scaping and cleaning. Most of these jobs are not making the workers rich, nor
do they offer extraordinary opportunities for occupational upward mobility.
Rather, the workers’ careers tend to be confined to small, Russian-speaking niche
industries and to occupations predominantly in the secondary labor market.
Additionally, ethnic networks may link to the informal economy. Although the
myth of the Russian Mafia may be an often exaggerated example, several infor-
mants attested to the existence of a large informal labor market involving
Spätaussiedler.5
In addition, potential labor market opportunities arise from the “middle-
man” economy, which offers specialty products and ethnic services to an im-
migrant community (Bonacich 1972; Bonacich and Modell 1980). In Berlin,
such middleman economies exist for immigrants from China, India, Iran, Italy,
Turkey, Vietnam, and other countries (Mai 2002). The Russian middleman
economy includes grocery markets specializing in Russian food products, book-
stores selling Russian literature, and video shops renting Russian-language
movies. Such a middleman economy exists in the eastern residential suburbs,
where many Spätaussiedler reside. A respondent explains, “Go to Hellersdorf
today and observe the local infrastructure, the grocery store Svetlana or Tatjana.”
Another interviewee explains that “there are Russian stores in this area, for ex-
ample, in the Ahrenfelder shopping arcades.6 A supermarket selling Russian
products belongs to it, too.” A sizable Russian immigrant economy also exists
in the relatively affluent district of Charlottenburg in the western part of Ber-
lin. Some of these businesses openly display their Russian identity in their store-
fronts to attract a Russian-speaking clientele; other businesses cater to the general
population and hide their ethnic identity from the casual window shopper.
Despite the existence of localized middleman economies, a wider-ranging Rus-
sian economy that extends into other economic sectors is absent in Berlin
(Dorsch et al. 2001: 19–47). In addition, ownership of these businesses is often
in the hands of Russian Jewish Kontingentflüchtlinge, not Spätaussiedler
(Kapphan 1997). In this case, Russian Jewish Kontingentflüchtlinge constitute
the “entrepreneur-rich” (Light et al. 1999: 10) immigrant group, and Aussiedler
and Spätaussiedler provide some of the workforce and clientele. The two groups
occupy different positions in the ethnic economy, with Spätaussiedler not always
receiving the jobs with high incomes.
Another group that is extremely interesting in the context of ethnic econo-
mies consists of Turkish immigrants. Although Turkish immigrants were not
FIGURE 8.1. Russian store in Charlottenburg (Photo by Harald Bauder)
the original focus group of the study, interview respondents often talked about
the Turkish economy. The knowledge and interest in this group relates to the size
of the Turkish economy, which, with more than 6,000 enterprises employing
20,000 people, is the largest ethnic economy in Berlin (International Organiza-
tion for Migration 2004: 78).7 The two characteristics most frequently cited by
the respondents were the unconventional business and labor practices that exist
in the Turkish economy and the entrepreneurial spirit of Turkish immigrants.
Several respondents noted that business and labor practices in the ethnic
economy are not always compatible with practices in the “mainstream”
economy. This incompatibility prevents many Turkish workers from moving
beyond the ethnic economy into the primary labor market. For example, work-
ers in the immigrant economy do not receive the type of training that is re-
quired by employers outside of the ethnic economy. A recurring comment from
the survey respondents was that the workers in the Turkish ethnic economy are
not trained according to the rigorous standards of the German apprenticeship
program. A respondent explains why entrepreneurs in the Turkish economy do
not train their workers according to German apprentice standards:
On the one hand, the ethnic economy consists of small and medium-size
businesses. On the other hand, they do not see from their live experience
that training is important—nor do they have the capacity to train based
on their own insufficient training. An additional problem, next to the in-

capacity to train, is that some of the businesses are very specialized and do
not fit a field of training. . . . The best example are travel agencies. Most
Turkish travel agencies cover only tourism to Turkey, but to train a travel
agent [according to German standards], one needs to offer everything.
The problem is not that the practices that exist in the ethnic economy are infe-
rior but that they differ from dominant economic practices. In fact, many im-
migrant entrepreneurs have good experiences with the practices they pursue.
A respondent noted that many immigrant entrepreneurs in Berlin have “not
learned their trade in the German apprentice program, or do not understand
why their son should participate in a training program, if the father is doing
well without. [In Germany] we have the dual system [which separates academic
and trade education]. This is sometimes difficult to convey [to immigrants].”
The practical employment experiences acquired by workers in the Turkish
economy are not valued in the same manner as the completion of a formal ap-
prenticeship program. Many immigrant workers depend on the ethnic economy
because their access to the regular labor market is constrained—due in large
part to the fact that relatively few Turkish residents have secondary educational
diplomas or vocational training certificates. This combination of devalued eth-
nic business practices and confinement to the ethnic economy locks many im-
migrants permanently into low-wage jobs of the ethnic economy. In the case of
Turkish immigrants, these forces affect even second-generation immigrants.
The second characteristic of Turkish immigrants mentioned by many inter-
view respondents is a certain entrepreneurial spirit. As in Los Angeles and other
immigrant-receiving cities, the celebrated image of the immigrant entrepreneur
stereotypes the entire group (M. P. Smith 2001: 86–91). The entrepreneurial
spirit, however, relates less to a strange natural quality of Turkish immigrants
to own a business and more to the lack of opportunities in the wage employ-
ment sector. Many ethnic entrepreneurs choose self-employment because they
cannot find decent employment in the waged labor market.8 A labor market
analyst at a nongovernmental organization explains: “Immigrant communities
seek their own strategies to get out of unemployment. Many of them identified
opening their own business as such a strategy. This is why the number of entre-
preneurs is higher among foreigners than among Germans.” This entrepreneur-
ial motivation among immigrants is not unique to Berlin, but it is common in
counties in which immigrants confront systematic labor market barriers and
where opportunities in the waged labor market are blocked (Kloosterman and
Rath 2003; Li 1997, 2003).9
Despite this explanation, the high rate of business ownership among immi-
grants is often attributed to a mysterious entrepreneurial spirit that immigrants
supposedly possess. A spokesperson of the Berlin Industrie und Handelskammer,
an organization to support local entrepreneurs, endorses this myth of immi-

grants as “born” entrepreneurs: “The [image of the foreigner] changes in light
of the discussion of self-employment. The Germans are reserved regarding self-
employment. . . . We are trying to initiate a change of mentality among Ger-
mans. For example, Turkish vegetable retailers have a certain work ethic—fresh
vegetables, longer opening hours, large staff, very friendly. . . . Migrants, par-
ticularly in gastronomy but also in other sectors, are seen as more mobile and
flexible. They come here to work with less consideration for their families. Ger-
mans are less mobile.”
What this interviewee does not acknowledge is that other immigrant groups
and many nonmigrant Germans would probably exhibit a similar entrepreneur-
ial spirit if they confronted the same labor market barriers as immigrants. In
addition, immigrant entrepreneurs are not the powerful leaders of vast busi-
ness empires. Rather, most of them struggle to keep their businesses afloat. Their
incomes and the wages of their employees tend to be lower and their hours longer
than those of average German workers, and their businesses concentrate in sec-
tors that offer fewer economic opportunities. The number of unpaid family
members in these businesses is high and has dramatically increased in recent
years (Leicht et al. 2005; Özcan and Seifert 2000; Pécoud 2002; Rudolph and
Hillmann 1997). Suggesting that this type of entrepreneurship should be an
inspiration to all workers is tantamount to asking nonmigrant German labor to
drop their employment standards to the level of the immigrants. From this
perspective, the role of immigration is to introduce economic ideals and prac-
tices to the labor market that nonmigrant labor will have to follow if they want
to stay competitive with immigrants. The long-term effect will be the decline of
income expectations among German business owners and their employees and
a degradation of labor and wage standards in those industries and occupations
in which immigrants set foot.
Residential Concentration
The residential concentration of immigrant groups links to the labor market situ-
ation of immigrants in several ways. First, residential concentrations strengthen
immigrant communities and potentially obstruct processes of assimilation, thus
exposing immigrants to processes of cultural distinction and labor market sub-
ordination. Second, residential immigrant enclaves can acquire negative reputa-
tions, leading to the exclusion of these areas from employers’ recruitment
strategies. Third, an immigrant neighborhood can accommodate and stimulate
the growth of an ethnic economy, providing opportunities in particular niche labor
markets. My discussion in this section focuses on these three potential effects.
From the outset, it is important to recognize that the degree of residential
segregation of ethnic communities in German cities is much lower than in U.S.
cities, where a near-complete spatial isolation of African Americans and Latino

immigrants is sometimes seen. In Berlin, the residential segregation of foreign
nationals has in some respects declined after the fall of the Berlin Wall as a re-
sult of increased residential choices with the unification of East and West Ber-
lin. Ethnic “ghettoes,” in the sense the term applies to U.S. cities, do not exist in
Berlin (Drever 2004; Holzner 1982; Kemper 1998).10 Nevertheless, the inter-
view respondents frequently used the term “ghettoization” to describe the rela-
tive spatial concentration of immigrants. This exaggeration of the circumstances
of residential segregation expresses the general concern that residential concen-
tration will result in social isolation and economic exclusion. A respondent ar-
ticulates this concern in this way: “I have the feeling that ghettoization exists
and that [immigrant groups] retreat into their own circles.”
The spatial concentration of immigrants raises the fear of creating a popula-
tion segment that exists beyond “normal” society, or what the discourse in the
United States labels the “underclass” (Gans 1990; Wilson 1987). A driving nar-
rative of this underclass discourse is the idea that cultural dysfunction spreads
through socially isolated neighborhoods, similar to a disease, via peer groups
and adult role models. Through spatial proximity, underclass behavior infects
residents who would otherwise not be affected. This perspective of so-called
neighborhood effects, however, is flawed. Ethnographic research shows that
residential concentration indeed enables minority groups to maintain their
habitus and cultural identity, but that economic exclusion, subordination, and
segmentation are still processes that occur in the labor market, by differentiat-
ing groups with distinct habitus and less valuable cultural capital (Bauder
2002b). Residential concentration itself is not the causal factor of economic
marginality. Residential segregation and labor market segmentation can, in fact,
be interpreted as the result of similar processes of social exclusion. Suggesting
that the spatial concentration of immigrant communities perpetuates “natu-
rally” inferior patterns of behavior, thereby causing labor market disenfranchise-
ment, essentially blames economically marginalized communities for their own
marginality.
The fear that immigrant groups could cluster residentially and fail to assimi-
late to dominant society is widespread among policy makers, public servants,
and administrators in nongovernmental organizations in Berlin. The perceived
problem with residential clustering is not that immigrant groups would be her-
metically isolated so that interaction with nonimmigrants is impossible, but that
an ethnic immigrant group would acquire a critical mass within a neighborhood
that would enable it to interact effectively with each other, diminishing the
need to assimilate. In this case, immigrants would be able to maintain a cul-
tural identity and habitus that is incompatible with German cultural norms
and conventions, thus exposing immigrants to processes of cultural exclusion
and subordination that operate in the labor market. Spatially integrated
immigrant communities, on the other hand, would be more likely to assimi-

late, would adopt to the cultural norms of the dominating society, and would
circumvent cultural processes of labor market marginalization.
The anxiety associated with residential concentration is framed by the ac-
tual concentration of immigrant groups in a few city districts of Berlin. Different
groups follow different residential patterns. The foreign population concentrates
in inner-city districts, particularly Neukölln, Kreuzberg, and Wedding. During
the cold war, the path of the Berlin Wall relegated these three districts to the pe-
riphery of West Berlin. Housing stock decayed, and rents were relatively low, at-
tracting less affluent and more marginalized residents, including foreign guest
workers and their families. Today, these districts have a foreign population of
roughly 20 to 30 percent, with Turkish citizens being the largest single group.
These spatial concentrations of foreigners fuel concerns about social isola-
tion and labor market exclusion. The interview respondents persistently drew
attention to the issue of ghettoization. The most pressing concern was that eth-
nic enclaves prevent immigrants and their children from learning German and
acquiring the language skills necessary to integrate into the German labor mar-
ket. A counselor at the Employment Office (Arbeitsamt) laments that many of
his foreign clients who live in the neighborhoods with the highest proportions
of foreign population are not proficient in standard German: “They are not able
to communicate with anyone outside of Neukölln or Kreuzberg.” Other respon-
dents suggested that immigrants are more likely to keep a distinct foreign ac-
cent when they live in concentrated immigrant neighborhoods.11
Some respondents noted other cultural mechanisms of labor market exclu-
sion. A union administrator responsible for matters relating to immigrant work-
ers suggests that immigrant neighborhoods limit the scope of their residents’
common knowledge, which results in the exclusion of immigrants from some
occupations. In the context of the neighborhood, “many immigrants are exposed
only to their own culture. In other words, their general education is more spe-
cific to the Turkish culture. And at the moment, most internship positions exist
in the service sector. In particular during job interviews with banks and insur-
ances is this education needed. They have deficits because their life outside of
school is focused too much on their own ethnic community.” Through helping
to preserve a distinct cultural identity, neighborhood-based communities appar-
ently restrict immigrants’ access to careers not only in professional occupations,
but also in the service and retail sector of the secondary labor market, where
personal interaction with clients and customers is required. Employment in the
ethnic economy and/or other occupations at the bottom of the labor market
that require little interaction with nonimmigrant clientele presents itself as a
more accessible alternative.
The districts in which immigrants concentrate, such as Neukölln, Kreuzberg,
and Wedding, are also areas with some of the highest unemployment rates in
Berlin. Whereas the segmentation of employed immigrants can be linked to

processes of cultural distinction of neighborhood-based ethnic communities,
the high unemployment rates seem to relate to another process. A study in
Neukölln revealed that foreign and German citizens are similarly affected by
unemployment (Dorsch et al. 2001: 48–83). In this case, it is questionable that
processes of cultural distinction between foreign and German residents are re-
sponsible for high unemployment rates among immigrants; if this were the case,
the unemployment rate would be lower among Germans. The similarity of
unemployment among immigrants and nonimmigrants warrants the proposi-
tion that similar processes affect both groups.
Certainly, low-rent neighborhoods, such as Kreuzberg, Neukölln, and Wed-
ding, attract unemployed residents with little or no income. In this respect, im-
migrants and disadvantaged nonmigrants probably concentrate in these
areas because they have similarly restricted residential choices. However, the
interviewees offered an additional explanation for the high likelihood of unem-
ployment among immigrants and nonmigrants in the same neighborhood. City
districts with a high proportion of immigrants can acquire negative images that
label all residents as an undesirable labor force. In this respect, Berlin is no differ-
ent from cities in other countries where images of cultural pathology exclude entire
neighborhoods from labor market opportunities (Bauder 2002b; Wilson 1996).
One respondent suggests that employers exclude job applications with addresses
in districts with a high proportion of foreign population: “Some addresses are
immediately taboo! This also applies to some schools. Some schools [Haupt-
schulen] in Kreuzberg are taboo with businesses. These applications are immedi-
ately declined because the image of the school and of the district is bad. Especially
Kreuzberg, but also Neukölln and Wedding.” Another respondent makes a similar
observation: “In certain city districts with high proportions of foreign popula-
tion, such as Kreuzberg, the same school grades indicate lower levels of compe-
tence. Of course, this makes the rounds among vocational trainers and employers.
But this point is not directed against foreigners but against the schools.”
The place-based recruitment strategies of employers and the exclusion of
workers from stigmatized neighborhoods can be rationalized through a pro-
cess known as statistical discrimination. This term suggests that employers can
elevate the skill levels of a pool of applicants by eliminating applicants from areas
with lower average skill levels and from schools with lower average grades. This
procedure saves employers the time and effort of individually weeding out un-
desired applicants. The underlying processes that enable this type of place-based
discrimination relate back to economic forces of exclusion. Many immigrants
lack financial assets and are therefore confined in their residential choices to
poorer neighborhoods and lower-grade school districts. Residents who can af-
ford to move out of these neighborhoods do so; immigrants facing institutional,
legal, and cultural barriers to better-paying jobs are less likely to be able to
FIGURE 8.2. Kreuzberg (Photo by Harald Bauder)
afford such a move, and so they stay behind. Many poor neighborhoods
already suffer from class-based stereotypes, but high proportions of foreign-
ers contribute images of cultural incompetence to the neighborhoods’ stigma.
Because immigrants concentrate in such neighborhoods, statistical discrimi-
nation on the basis of these neighborhood representations affects immigrants
disproportionately.
Spätaussiedler also concentrate in distinct areas of Berlin. However, unlike
immigrants with foreign citizenship, most of whom arrived before German re-
unification and settled in the former West Berlin, Spätaussiedler arrived after
the fall of the Berlin Wall and settled predominantly in the suburban subdivi-
sions of the former East Berlin. The districts of Marzahn and Hellersdorf in the
eastern urban fringe are typical areas, with high concentrations of immigrants
from the former Soviet Union. Marzahn, in particular, is known as the largest
enclave of Aussiedler and Spätaussiedler in Germany (Zimprich 2004). Between
1976 and 1989, the East German government built approximately 65,000 pre-
fabricated apartments in Marzahn. Under the East German political regime,
Marzahn enjoyed a progressive image because of its new housing stock and
socialist planning ideas. With the fall of the Wall, however, the image of Marzahn
also tumbled. An excerpt from a local newspaper presents the district’s contem-
porary image: “Neukölln is bad already. But it pales compared to Marzahn. You
do not want to live there. . . . Neither do you want to visit. Why would you? Every-
FIGURE 8.3. Marzahn (Photo by Harald Bauder)
thing is gray, gray in all hues. And everywhere are slab buildings [Plattenbauten],
which are not becoming prettier simply because building management painted
the façade in colors or placed funny sculptures on the rooftops. Slab remains slab
remains gray. . . . Marzahn has an image problem. . . . Even the architects were
not proud of this concrete desert” (Rosenkranz 2002: 23).
The desolate reputation of the residential areas built by the East German gov-
ernment precedes the arrival of the Spätaussiedler. After the fall of the East Ger-
man regime, socialist architecture fell out of favor with many residents. Families
who were able to move elsewhere left Marzahn. Starting in 1992, many of these
vacancies were filled by Spätaussiedler who qualified for social housing. An
administrator at the North-West Marzahn Neighborhood Management Office
(Quartiersmanagement) explains that settlement of the newcomers in this par-
ticular area is the direct result of government housing policy: “Here in Marzahn
and Hellersdorf was a housing project. After the project, the residents found hous-
ing within the area. . . . At that time, many of the prefabricated housing units were
vacant. And it was policy at that time to allocate these people to Marzahn North
and West. Of the 12,000 who settled in Marzahn, most were allocated to North
[Marzahn] because the residences are not as valuable due to the distance to the
city center. This is the final [rail transit] stop.”
The arrival of ethnic German immigrants in Marzahn and Hellersdorf trig-
gered the flight of additional nonmigrant Germans. A settlement counselor
believes that families moved out of Marzahn to dissociate themselves from the
newcomers: “In an apartment building in which twenty-five of thirty families
are Aussiedler and only five are German, the five German families will move
away.” The administrator at the North-West Marzahn Neighborhood Manage-
ment Office confirms that the dislike for the immigrant groups is one reason so
many residents leave the area: “Meanwhile, you have to be embarrassed to live
here. But that is also the reason why people move away from here. The reason
they give is that there are so many Russians.” Today, estimates suggest that
Spätaussiedler constitute about 10 percent of the local population (Dorsch et
al. 2001: 12–18). Although this number seems low, it is apparently enough to
give the area a bad image.12
As in the case of Turkish immigrant groups, the relative residential concen-
tration of Spätaussiedler stirs a debate that mirrors the underclass discourse. A
significant number of interview respondents believe that the spatial concentra-
tion of Spätaussiedler enables this community to seclude itself and maintain
habitual practices that are incompatible with German labor market norms and
conventions. In the following quote, a community worker suggests that resi-
dential concentration facilitates social isolation; he implies that spatial dispersal
would promote assimilation, which, in turn, would prevent social and economic
isolation: “If one locks Aussiedler in a single apartment building, then one rep-
licates Soviet society. Instead, one should accommodate everyone in a stable
residential community. That is, a residential setting in which good relations and
circumstances exist, where people are assisted to assimilate. But we are not doing
this. They are put into social housing, 10 percent in Marzahn and the Germans
move away.” A self-proclaimed advocate for Spätaussiedler in Marzahn with first-
hand resettlement experience, however, disagrees with the assessment that spa-
tial dispersal leads to quicker assimilation. In fact, he argues the opposite. He
criticizes a particular program that attempted to stimulate social integration
through residential dispersal. He says that integration “was tried in Marzahn, by
not allowing people to move into the same building. In the public institutions
only German was spoken, and the result was that people retreated into their pri-
vate life. They formed [ethnicity-particular] friendship networks. . . . They missed
the opportunity to enter the labor market, they missed the opportunity to learn
the language.” Whether residential dispersal or concentration strengthens group
identity or stimulates assimilation is, in my view, not the main point. Rather, dis-
tinct cultural identity and habitus, no matter how they are produced and main-
tained, initiate processes of cultural differentiation on the side of the nonimmigrant
population, which, as I illustrated in earlier chapters, link to the segmentation of
labor.
Assimilation is a cultural strategy that enjoys widespread support among the
German population. Recent public debates on the new immigration law of 2004
and the new citizenship law of 2000 have illustrated the strength of this sup-
port.13 A large proportion of immigrants, however, do not exhibit the degree of

assimilation that many Germans demand and that would be required for equal
treatment in the labor market. This discrepancy between the demand for as-
similation and the large proportion of immigrants who maintain distinct cul-
tural identities could be interpreted as a failure of migration and assimilation
policies. However, a more sensible interpretation, I think, is that the unattain-
able demand for cultural assimilation is itself an element of a structural process
of subordination. For most immigrants, it is impossible to entirely shake off their
cultural identities. Under these circumstances, assimilation is an unrealistic goal.
Thus, the requirement for assimilation effectively marginalizes large numbers
of immigrants and legitimates their employment in the secondary labor market
or their unemployment. By blaming immigrants for not assimilating, they can
be held responsible for their subordination in the labor market.
Residential concentration enables the creation of a localized social and in-
stitutional support infrastructure, something urban researchers have identified
as a “good” aspect of segregation (Krummacher and Walz 2002; Peach 1996).
Residential areas, such as Marzahn and Hellersdorf, serve as “the place to
acclimatiz[e] into German society” (Dorsch et al. 2001: 47). A respondent ex-
presses this idea in the following manner: “Ghettoization also has its strength:
for example, strong family relationships and also solidarity within the group.”
An informant and Aussiedler himself who lives and works in Marzahn explains
that immigrants cannot shift effortlessly between old and new settlement con-
texts and therefore need the support of the local ethnic community: “People
should not be relocated from one culture to another in such an unaccommo-
dating manner. Otherwise they will experience a culture shock. [In Marzahn]
you often hear people speaking Russian in the street. . . . And we have many
institutions that cater to immigrants and that are well frequented by them. At
some meetings [of our organization] we have 1,600 people.” In Marzahn, many
residents seek to reinforce a particular transitional cultural identity by explic-
itly rejecting singular German and Russian identities, instead emphasizing that
they are Russian German (Russlanddeutsch). The neighborhood becomes an
important marker in the construction of this identity. Many Spätaussiedler who
live in Marzahn do not share the negative image of their district. Instead, they
appreciate the relatively new apartments and see the “high-rise buildings as the
epitome of urban living” (Mai 1999: 37, my translation).
Conclusion
Ethnic networks, ethnic economies, and residential concentrations of immigrants
are important elements in the subordination of immigrant labor. Social and eth-
nic networks can feed immigrant workers into the informal economy and the
secondary segment of the labor market. In situations when other processes of
subordination are ineffective—as in the case of citizenship discrimination, which

does not apply to Spätaussiedler—social and ethnic networks permit maintain-
ing a distinct habitus and cultural identity, which subject immigrants to the
processes of cultural distinction in the labor market.
For other groups, such as Turkish immigrants, who already experience sig-
nificant labor market barriers and lack equal opportunities in waged employ-
ment, the ethnic economy can provide an escape route into entrepreneurship
and employment in the secondary labor market. However, ethnic economies
also have a critical impact on the wider economy beyond the ethnic enclave.
Immigrant entrepreneurs and their immigrant employees are an important
component of Berlin’s secondary labor market. They define new labor standards,
pushing the boundary below existing norms. In this role, immigrant entrepre-
neurs are celebrated as “mobile and flexible” businesspeople who accept the
challenges of global competition, take risks, and proactively shape their own
economic future. The representation of this struggle as a positive endeavor rather
than a desperate response to prevailing labor market marginality signifies to the
small-business sector as a whole that more flexibility, lower wages, and new labor
practices will be necessary to survive in the future. The introduction of these
new norms supports the wider project of disciplining Berlin’s labor force and
making the city’s economy more flexible.
The residential concentration of immigrants contributes to this project in
several ways. First, spatial proximity enables immigrant communities to culti-
vate and maintain distinct cultural identities, which can render these commu-
nities vulnerable and exclude them from equal labor market opportunities.
Second, stereotypical images of the neighborhoods in which immigrants reside
convince some employers to categorically avoid recruiting from these areas.
Third, the spatial concentration of ethnic groups legitimates the economic sub-
ordination of immigrants by representing these areas as a breeding ground for
cultural pathology. These representations attribute the segmentation of immi-
grant labor to the cultural milieu of the neighborhood, while denying existing
processes of cultural distinction.
The neighborhood defines a microscale in which cultural processes of labor
market segmentation and subordination operate. This scale overlaps with urban,
national, and international scales in which other labor market, political, and
migration processes occur. The final part of the book focuses on a theme that
exemplifies scale-particular processes: seasonal migrant labor, employed by local
farmers in high-wage regions, regulated through social and political processes
at regional and national scales, and maintaining transnational social lives that
center in low-wage countries.
PART IV
OFFSHORE LABOR IN ONTARIO
The Offshore Program
For decades, Canadian growers complained about the inadequacy of

Canadian labor for strenuous harvesting work. In 1958, a representative of
the South-Western Ontario Field Crops Association remarked that local
workers “could be classed as casual workers, they were an extremely poor
type. . . . These workers were also difficult to manage and there is no doubt
that many of them had criminal records. This poor calibre of men resulted
in a large turnover” (Satzewich 1991: 151). In response to such complaints,
and due to the supposedly “‘special’ nature of farming in Canada” (Wall
1992: 264),1 the federal government of Canada initiated negotiations with
the government of Jamaica to enable the recruitment of temporary workers
to help Canadian growers bring in the harvest. In 1966, Canadian growers
got what they wanted. The so-called offshore program initially included
workers from Jamaica, but it was quickly expanded to Trinidad-Tobago and
Barbados in 1967, Mexico in 1974, and members of the Organization of
East Caribbean States in 1976 (Human Resources Development Canada
[HRDC] 2003). Today the program is formally known as the Common-
wealth Caribbean and Mexican Seasonal Agricultural Workers Program.
Since its inception, the offshore program has enjoyed growing popularity
with Canada’s agriculture industry. In 1968, 1,258 workers from the
Caribbean were recruited to work in Canada. By 1985, the numbers had
increased to 4,173 from the Caribbean and 832 workers from Mexico.
Eleven years later, in 1996, the numbers swelled to 6,327 from the Carib-
bean and 5,215 workers from Mexico (United Farm Workers of America,
Canadian Office 2001: 6). By 1999, the figures climbed again to 7,476 from
the Caribbean and 6,078 seasonal agricultural workers from Mexico, and by
2001 to 7,919 from the Caribbean and 8,060 workers from Mexico
156 OFFSHORE LABOR IN ONTARIO
MAP IV.1. Southern Ontario (Map by Marie Puddister)
(Foreign Agricultural Resource Management Services [FARMS] 2001,

2003b). Although the offshore program is not limited to one particular
Canadian province, it predominantly satisfies the seasonal agricultural labor
needs of Ontario. The southwestern Ontario towns of Simcoe, Tillsonburg,
St. Catharines, and Canada’s self-proclaimed Tomato Capital, Leamington,
each attracted more than 1,000 foreign seasonal workers in 1998 (Basok
2002: 33–37).
The vast majority of participants are men, most of them employed in
tobacco, vegetable, and fruit growing operations, as well as in nurseries and
canning factories. An increasing number are also working in greenhouses.
Offshore workers are typically employed as farmworkers for planting,
pruning, feeding livestock, and harvesting the crops. Workers typically make
minimum wage or slightly above.2 Although participants make more money
than they would in Mexico or the Caribbean, wages and working conditions
are generally well below Canadian standards. Workers are expected to
work long hours and weekends if needed, and they are routinely exposed
to pesticides, chemical solvents, sun, and heat (Basok 2002). Few Canadian
workers are willing to subject themselves to such working conditions for
wages slightly above the legal minimum wage, which is why the program
exists in the first place.3
OFFSHORE LABOR IN ONTARIO 157
Under the regulations of the offshore program, Canadian employers are

expected to provide free accommodation to workers. In most cases,
accommodation consists of bunk housing located on the farms. Many
offshore workers spend several months living in overcrowded trailers at
their workplace. In addition to housing, employers are required to contrib-
ute to the cost of air travel to Canada, provide transportation to and from
the airport, and pay an administrative fee. Furthermore, many employers
offer transportation at least once a week to shopping and entertainment in
nearby towns.
The Canadian federal government, foreign governments, and a private
nonprofit organization called the Foreign Agricultural Resource Manage-
ment Services (FARMS) share administrative responsibilities of the program
(HRDC 2003). The Mexican and participating Caribbean governments
select participants for the offshore program. Criteria for participation are
that workers are married, poor, have low levels of education, and support
large families. In addition, Canadian employers can request workers whom
they hired in previous years. Some offshore workers have come annually to
Ontario for decades.
The offshore program is an important component of a wider system of
institutions that manage the agricultural labor market of Ontario. As with
Canadian policy on permanent immigration, the offshore program officially
aims to improve the economic prosperity of both Canadians and the
migrant workers (Greenhill and Aceytuno 2000). The primary motivation
for the program is, of course, to benefit the Canadian agriculture industry.
The welfare of Third World societies and the personal well-being of the
workers are certainly not the driving factor for the existence of the
program or the manner in which it is implemented. Workers are not hired
by Canadian growers to facilitate wealth transfer to Mexican mountain
villages or to Caribbean communities. The offshore labor program exists to
supply disciplined and flexible labor at the lowest possible cost to Canadian
growers.
The Canadian horticulture industry has several options to meet the
increasing competition from international and national producers. First, it
could satisfy its own need for short-term seasonal labor by offering wages
and working conditions that would appeal to a sufficient number of Cana-
dian workers. This option is expensive and would likely lead to the collapse
of the industry. Second, the industry could mechanize harvesting activities
and use labor more effectively. However, a shift in the relationship between
variable and constant capital is least likely to occur in the seasonal sector
because labor can be hired on a short-term basis without large additional
capital investments. Nevertheless, a tendency toward greater mechanization
is currently apparent in many Canadian growing operations, displacing some
seasonal harvesters and farmworkers. The third option is to hire workers

with low expectations regarding wages and working conditions, who can be
disciplined by denying them basic social and economic rights. The offshore
program was designed to bring such a workforce to Canadian farms.
The implementation of this third option went hand in hand with the
rejection of the first option to increase wages and labor standards. While the
number of foreign seasonal farm and harvesting labor has increased dramati-
cally since the start of the offshore program, the total number of Canadian
workers in similar functions declined. This trend is reflected in the total
number of farm and harvesting workers, which has shrunk in the past two
decades due to increased mechanization. In 1986, the Canadian Census
counted 63,085 Ontario workers in the occupations targeted by the offshore
program. This number declined to 50,340 in 1996 and 42,135 in 2001
(Statistics Canada 1989, 1999, 2003).4 Offshore labor thus constitutes an
increasing share of the workforce in the harvesting and farm labor sector.
In Ontario, the offshore program has long been a “structural necessity”
for the horticulture industry (Basok 2002). Although the total expenses of
hiring foreign workers, including travel, housing, and administrative costs,
may in fact exceed the costs of employing Canadian workers,5 the program
supplies obedient workers who agree to live at the place of employment
and “comply with all rules set down by the employer relating to safety,
discipline, and the care and maintenance of property” (38). Many Canadian
temporary workers would not put up with these conditions; they would
quit the job as soon as it becomes too strenuous, dangerous, or monoto-
nous—which would, of course, constitute a serious risk to farmers who
may not be able to complete the harvest before the crop spoils. Ontario’s
growers have become so dependent on foreign farm labor that they can no
longer run their operations profitably without it. A recent report commis-
sioned by FARMS confirms that the offshore program is the “keystone of
the Horticulture Industry” in Ontario (Stevens Associates 2003: 2). Off-
shore labor ensures not only the survival but also the profitability of the
industry. The greenhouse vegetable industry, in particular, made large
profits throughout the 1990s by using offshore workers (Basok 2002).6
Foreign farmworkers essentially constitute a class of “unfree” labor
(Basok 2002; Satzewich 1991). As I mentioned in chapter 1, unfree labor
generally refers to the inability of workers to circulate freely in the labor
market (Miles 1987). Under the offshore program, workers can apply to be
transferred to another employer only if they have “completed the work
period for the original [first] employer” (FARMS 2003a: 13) and if they have
not exceeded the maximum stay in Canada of eight months per year. In
addition, the offshore program incorporates coercive labor practices under
which “workers are not only unable to change employment, but they are
also unfree to refuse the employers’ request for their labour when need
arises” (Basok 2002: 4). Although workers are legally free, they are rela-
tively unprotected by labor legislation and work under the constant threat
of being expelled from the program and consequently deported from
Canada. They are especially at risk if they resist substandard working and
housing conditions or engage in political activism. These conditions make
offshore workers an extremely vulnerable and exploitable labor force. They
can easily be intimidated and coerced into complying with unpaid overtime,
inconsistent work schedules, improper working conditions, and substandard
housing. In addition, labor organizers have noted that the vulnerability of
the workers and the temporary nature of their contract discourage
workers from organizing. Furthermore, they are authorized to work for
only one employer, and their ability to remain in the program depends on
this employer’s satisfaction with the worker’s performance. Like feudal
serfs, they are chained to their jobs by the program’s restrictions on
changing employers. At the same time, offshore labor is incredibly flexible,
as it is hired on a seasonal basis and under the condition of complying with
overtime and inconsistent working hours. Marx ([1867] 2001: 502) ob-
served long ago that such a reserve army is particularly useful to seasonal
sectors of the economy (see chapter 1). The offshore program provides a
disciplined temporary workforce to Ontario growers on a permanent
basis—to be punctually available for every annual harvesting season.
This final part of the book has two aims. First, I examine the role of
Caribbean and Mexican migrant workers in regulating Ontario’s labor
market in agriculture and beyond. The previous two parts focused on the
role of more or less permanent immigration; part IV examines a temporary
labor migration system. Both types of international migration are important
to the working of labor markets. Second, I move beyond the logistics of
why this system of labor movement exists and how it operates and concen-
trate instead on the question of how such a program is legitimated. Of
central concern is how the offshore program has been represented as
morally right and of practical benefit to the people and interests involved.
This justification is a political exercise and not always based on objective or
rational reasoning. Instead, the emerging rationale is often made to fit
existing material realities and the economic need for certain types of labor
in rural Ontario. Interestingly, the rationale itself enables and shapes the
material practices embodied by the offshore program in Ontario. This
legitimation of a particular system of labor movement provides another
example of how international migration regulates labor markets, comple-
menting the previous two case studies.
Media Representations
The media’s capacity to shape public discourse is well-known. The news-

print media, in particular, is an important element in propagating public
discourse (Crespi 1997; Hall 1977; Laclau 1977). The following three
chapters draw on a content analysis of Ontario newspapers on the theme
of foreign seasonal farmworkers and the offshore program (see Appendix
for details on methodology). What makes newspaper content analysis
appealing for examining the offshore program is that it reveals ideological
“ways of seeing” and uncovers the underlying narratives presented in the
discourse of the offshore program. Content analysis indicates how specific
rhetoric is being deployed strategically to legitimate and shape particular
economic systems. It uncovers the motivations and politics behind the
offshore program, and it shows how the media have played an active role in
rallying public support for the program.
Newspaper reporting not only reflects but often strategically produces
anxieties about social change and economic uncertainty. A prominent
Canadian example is the newspaper coverage of the arrival of four boats
carrying 599 “illegal” Chinese immigrants on Canada’s coast in 1999.
Although the number of immigrants on the boats is quite insignificant,
considering the total volume of immigration to Canada, distorted depictions
of the immigrants as “human cargo,” “boat people,” and a “human ava-
lanche” evoked a sense of crisis that consequently mobilized public support
for tighter controls at the Canadian border (Hier and Greenberg 2002).
The deployment of racial stereotypes and representations of immigrants as
cultural and economic threats has a long history in the Canadian media
(Mahtani 2001; van Dijk 1991; Zolf 1989).7 Regarding the offshore program,
racial undertones have always been a part of the program. As recently as
the 1960s, Canadian immigration officers who interviewed applicants for
temporary work visas to Canada described “‘Negro’ males from the
Caribbean as childlike, indolent, lazy and stupid” (Satzewich 1991: 136), and
Caribbean women were depicted as immoral and sexually promiscuous.
Although disciplined foreign labor was desperately needed in the Ontario
farming industry, public discourse at that time suggested that Caribbean
workers were biologically unsuited for the cold climate of Canada and that
these workers would create “racial problems” in Canada’s rural communi-
ties. For these reasons, non-European workers were not invited as perma-
nent immigrants but only as temporary workers and under strict mobility
constraints (145–180). Although the rhetoric of racial subordination has
changed since the 1960s, the offshore program still exists and enlists
workers from the same countries as thirty years ago, and in even greater
numbers. What has changed in light of increasing public intolerance for
blatant racism are the narratives that supposedly justify this system of labor
subordination and the corresponding use of foreign workers.
Throughout North America, cultural representations of seasonal labor
and migrant workers have served as an important tactic in sustaining
exploitative agricultural labor regimes. In the historical context of Califor-
nia, for example, the discursive representation of migrant workers was a
critical element in the objectification of these workers as labor power, and
it ultimately legitimized their exploitation (D. Mitchell 1996: 83–109). In the
context of the Canadian offshore program, public discourse of foreign farm
labor produces a similar effect. It serves to justify the constraints of
workers’ freedom and the terms of their recruitment, to rally public
support for the offshore program, and to ensure the relatively smooth
functioning of this system of labor mobility.
In this final part of the book, I explore the ideological legitimation of the
material practices of the offshore program through the media representa-
tions of Mexican and Caribbean farmworkers, their role in the rural
economy, the portrayal of the benefits to the workers’ families in Mexico
and the Caribbean, and other narratives that are woven into the wider
discourse of farm labor. The following three chapters reveal the complexity
and multidimensionality of the discourse of farm labor. In the next chapter,
I introduce the dominating narratives that justify the existence of the
offshore program and the corresponding labor practices. Chapter 10
focuses on how these narratives and the discourse of foreign farm labor
operate, particularly in the deployment of geographical scale and the
construction of spatial dualisms as discursive strategies. I show that only
through its complexity is the discourse of foreign farm labor able to legitimate
the labor practices associated with the offshore program. In the final chapter,
I review a particular debate surrounding a welfare-to-work program that
proposed replacing offshore workers with Canadian welfare recipients. The
manner in which this debate juxtaposes Canadian and foreign workers reveals
the underlying processes of labor valorization and devaluation associated with
citizenship, and it illustrates how the regulation of labor markets through the
use of foreign migrant labor is being rationalized.
◆ 9
DISCOURSE OF FOREIGN FARMWORKERS
In 1995, the Ontario provincial government, under conservative premier Mike

Harris, repealed legislation put in place the year before by the former central-
left government of Bob Rae that protected Ontario’s agricultural workers
under the province’s labor code.1 Migrant workers were also affected by this
legislation. In late April 2001, Mexican workers staged a two-day strike in a
Leamington greenhouse, and in May 2001, approximately 100 Mexican offshore
farmworkers protested in Leamington against substandard working and living
conditions, including the lack of safety protection against pesticides, over-
crowded living spaces, long working hours, no overtime pay, insufficient medical
care, unfair government paycheck deductions, and threats of deportation to their
home countries. After these events, some of the protesters were dismissed from
the offshore program and sent back to Mexico.
The media reports on these protests varied widely. Reports were either sym-
pathetic to the workers’ concerns, or they condemned the protests as unjusti-
fied nagging by a small minority of angry workers. Several of the newspaper
reports that were sympathetic to the protesting workers (e.g., Kitchener-Waterloo
[Ontario] Record 2001; St. Catharines [Ontario] Standard 2001) presented the
same quote from an anonymous migrant worker who criticizes the unfair treat-
ment of foreign migrant workers by Canadian employers: “What I’ve realized
here in Canada is that employers don’t hire us as human beings. They think we’re
animals. . . . The first threat that they always make is that if you don’t like it,
you can go back to Mexico.” In a report about the same protests, the Windsor
(Ontario) Star quoted farmworkers who articulated similar concerns: “‘Grow-
ers don’t care whether you’re injured or not, they only care when you’re
healthy,’” and “[the grower] said, ‘If you don’t work faster, you’ll be sent back
to Mexico’” (Welch 2001).2
Other articles gave the events a different spin. A fact-finding mission after
the protests uncovered that only a few migrant workers filed formal complaints
against their employers. The lack of complaints was interpreted as assurance that
workers were satisfied with their employment circumstances. These media voices
never acknowledged the looming threat of dismissal from the offshore program
and deportation to Mexico if a formal complaint is made. The few complaints
that actually were made by workers, such as having to pay employment insur-
ance contributions that could never be redeemed,3 were dismissed as mere ig-
norance on the part of the workers. As reported in the National Post: “Mr.
Gonzalez says fewer than 100 disgruntled workers complained to the fact find-
ing mission of labour union activists that visited Leamington this summer. A
dozen workers unhappy about their conditions returned to Mexico. Others
complained about having to pay taxes and employment insurance premiums,
which they do not have to do in their own country” (Jiminez 2001: A14).
Depending on the ideological position of the author and the newspaper, the
protests and their aftermath were interpreted in different ways. It is certainly not
unusual for media discourse to present multiple viewpoints and coexisting nar-
ratives (Crespi 1997). Many newspaper articles expressed a common perspective
on events and relied on the same sources of information,4 but the press does not
speak with a single voice. Accordingly, the following analysis revealed no single
image of foreign farmworkers or the offshore program. Rather, newspaper articles
presented a range of different perspectives, which I organize into a small number
of narratives that together constitute a powerful and marginalizing discourse of
foreign farm labor. Through careful analysis, I extracted three parallel narratives,
which I label (1) the economy narrative, (2) the migrants-as-labor narrative, and
(3) the social mobility narrative.
The Economy Narrative

The economy narrative stresses that foreign farm labor is a vital factor of pro-
duction for Ontario’s horticulture. Without it, the industry would experience
shrinking profit margins. An article in the Ottawa Sun reveals the underlying
economic theme of this narrative: “Every apple, every pear, every peach is
money to the province’s producers, but they can’t cash in unless the fruit is
picked and shipped in optimum condition” (Gray 1999: 16). To cash in on
the crops, Ontario growers must have access to foreign labor. A farmer who
has employed migrant workers for twenty-six years told the Hamilton
(Ontario) Spectator about the role of offshore workers in Ontario’s agricul-
tural industry: “He says the labourers are an integral part of Ontario’s fruit and
vegetable agricultural sector. ‘There’s lots of Canadians [in farming], there’s just
not enough’” (Barlow 1999: A1). Articles frequently proclaimed that access to
offshore workers is a matter of economic survival for the growers, as this quote
from a farmer in the Owen Sound (Ontario) Sun illustrates: “‘Our industry
wouldn’t survive without them’” (Avery 1999: A5).
DISCOURSE OF FOREIGN FARMWORKERS 165
The economy narrative seems to confirm the assessment of scholars who

suggest that the offshore labor program is a structural necessity for Ontario’s
agricultural industry (Basok 2002; Satzewich 1991). The underlying assump-
tion of this argument is that agriculture is an industry in distress, suffering from
falling commodity prices, rising production prices, and competition with more
profitable sectors for labor. For example, the St. Catherines Standard reports:
“[Last year] we were really struggling to find short-term help,” [grower]
Sgambelluri said. “[Agriculture] is sort of like the bottom rung on the lad-
der as far as jobs go. It’s like a job on the farm is a last resort when you
can’t get anything else.” . . .
Two students came back three or four summers in a row. Last year, they
found construction jobs in Burlington. . . . At $12.50 an hour, the students
easily gave up the farm jobs.
“You can’t match them, so you lose them,” Sgambelluri said. “A con-
tainer of peaches today is worth the same as a container of peaches 10 years
ago. The cost of living’s gone up, our container costs rise, our fuel costs
rise, everything rises except the price for our commodity. . . .”
With only the four regulars left, Sgambelluri turned to the federal off-
shore labour program for the first time. (Saari 2001: A6)
The St. Catharines Standard published another article proposing that the off-
shore program relieves the agricultural sector from the tight labor market situ-
ation in Ontario and from having to match the relatively high wages in other
thriving sectors of the economy:
Ironically, Ontario’s thriving economy is largely to blame for the worker
shortage, says an agency that matches farm workers and employers.
People who previously settled for a few months of work at a starting
rate of about $7 per hour are now often able to secure higher-paying, full-
time jobs, said Andrea Proctor, co-ordinator for the Farm Labour Pool
Niagara.
Many agricultural operations—grape growers, tender-fruit producers
and greenhouses—will be forced to look overseas for more workers to get
them through the crunch, said Proctor. (Downs 2000: A3)
Some articles quoted growers and officials who attempt to tone down the struc-
tural dependence of Ontario’s agricultural sector on foreign migrant workers. For
example, an article in the Simcoe (Ontario) Reformer compares employing off-
shore workers to buying an insurance policy: “Jim Cleaver, a Simcoe-area apple
grower, said he views foreign labour as an insurance policy. ‘We buy it to get the
crop off,’ he said. ‘We have too much money involved to gamble’” (E. Smith 1996b:
4). Similarly, the Brantford (Ontario) Expositor (1999b: C1) suggests that growers
would prefer to hire Canadians and use offshore labor only as a “safety valve”:
Gary Cooper, a Simcoe area orchard operator who has been president of
FARMS for five years, said the program is only a supplement to the labour
needs of farmers.
“It acts as a safety valve when there’s not enough reliable Canadians to
work,” he said. . . .
While most farmers would prefer to hire Canadian, there has been a
chronic shortage of agricultural workers who are willing to work the en-
tire season.
The same article, however, also discloses that Cooper employs eighty-four off-
shore workers, indicating that offshore farmworkers are a necessary factor of
his agricultural operation. The term “safety valve” apparently does not refer to
a small number of workers, but to a large labor reserve army, which provides
flexible, powerless, and temporary workers. A common thread that weaves
through the economy narrative is that offshore workers fill the void created by
Canadians, who left the seasonal agricultural sector for work in more stable
industries.
Many reporters—even those who demonstrated in other articles that they
are quite critical of the offshore program and its labor practices (e.g., Welch
2000a, 2000b)—endorse the premise of market equilibrium as the principle that
brings foreign workers as seasonal labor to Ontario. Mary Agnes Welch (2000c:
A1), for example, writes in the Windsor Star about a “healthy” balance between
labor demand and supply: “In Canada, the subtle symbiosis between Mexican
workers desperate for a decent wage and the greenhouse owners desperate for
decent workers seems to have struck a healthy balance.” Viewing the offshore
labor arrangement as an outcome of economic self-regulation rather than a
tightly controlled and managed process implies that it is perfectly normal for
foreign labor to work in Ontario and to do so under the existing conditions.
This view suggests that the offshore program merely enables workers to go to
the places where their labor is in demand. It implies that it would be unwise to
tinker with a system that has reached an inevitable balance.
Migrants-as-Labor Narrative
Another, parallel narrative suggests that offshore workers are useful only as labor,
that they are undesirable as people. This narrative suggests that workers are
naturally inclined to perform manual work in the orchards and therefore wor-
thy of employment on Ontario’s farms. Outside of their work environment,
however, they are prone to crime and otherwise intolerable behavior. The news-
paper search revealed that migrant workers are frequently mentioned in the
context of accident and crime reports. Typical headlines included “Migrant
Worker Jailed for Assaulting Girlfriend” (Brantford Expositor) and “Mexican
Worker Dies in Bunk: Cause of Death Unknown, Foul Play Not Suspected” (St.
Catharines Standard). These headlines associate offshore workers with crime and
aggression. The following excerpt below from the London (Ontario) Free Press
covers the sexual assault charges of a Jamaican farmworker. The description of
the crime is immediately followed by a discussion of the offshore program, as if
there was a causal link between the offshore workers and criminal behavior:
A migrant worker accused of sexually assaulting a London teenager at an

Elgin County tree nursery is in police custody.
The 25-year-old worker is one of 24 Jamaicans employed for the sea-
son at Downham Nurseries on Routh Road, about 20 kilometres west of
St. Thomas.
He was arrested Tuesday night after Elgin OPP [Ontario Provincial
Police] received a complaint from an 18–year-old London woman who said
she was assaulted while staying at the farm on Monday, OPP said.
The man made a brief court appearance in St. Thomas yesterday and
was held for a bail hearing tomorrow, said acting Sgt. Chris Gheysen.
Migrant workers make up about five per cent of the seasonal farm labour
in Ontario, said the head of the Ontario arm of the Foreign Agriculture
Resource Management Services (FARMS).
FARMS is operated by employers who hire foreign seasonal workers.
Last year, about 12,100 people from Mexico and Caribbean countries
came to Ontario for an average of 16 weeks to work on fruit, vegetable and
tobacco farms, said Gary Cooper, a Simcoe area farm operator.
“I would say this is a very rare incident,” he said of the accusation and
charge.
All workers are screened by their home country’s Labour Ministry be-
fore being offered any work. (Beaubien 1999: A4)
Similarly, after a Mexican farmworker died, the Niagara Falls (Ontario) Review
(2001: A3) reported the death in a manner that implies that it is unusual for
foreign farmworkers to die in Canada of anything but violent behavior: “Police
say that at this time it appears the man died of natural causes and no foul play
is suspected.”
While offshore workers are portrayed as social problems, they are also de-
picted as gifted fruit pickers and naturally endowed farm laborers. These rep-
resentations imply that the workers belong in the orchard, rather than the
community. An article in the Ottawa Sun presents a romantic image of the
orchard as the migrant worker’s natural habitat:
By seven, the work begins.

Bathed in dew, the early morning sunlight gives the red ripe Empire
apple the appearance of a jewel waiting to be plucked.
The delicacy of the operation is obvious as you watch them place the
apples first into the bushel basket, then into the large bin—20 bushels to
the bin. . . .
At 41 years old he’s [the foreign worker] been coming up to Ontario to
work for 18 years. . . . He’s gentle with every one of his share of the 2 mil-
lion McIntosh, Red Delicious, Crispin, Empires and all the apples that pass
through his care. (Gray 1999: 16)
A former apple picker expressed his admiration in the Toronto Star for the
skills of his former Jamaican colleague:
Even though I thought I knew how to, as Frost wrote, “Cherish in hand,
lift down, and not let fall” the precious fruit, I was still chided occasionally
by Winston, the crew foreman. Winston had the air of a Rastafarian patri-
arch and the hands of a concert pianist when it came to judging fruit. He
could tell a 21/2-inch apple from a 21/3 -inch apple by cradling it between
thumb and forefinger for a split second before putting it in the correct bin.
“Delicately, you must handle them delicately,” his resonant and musi-
cally Jamaican voice would rumble up from his post by the sorting bins. It
was a voice that seldom needed to be raised. As he spoke, his penetrating
gaze would catch mine through the foliage and he would demonstrate the
correct technique with eloquent, emphatic gestures, the master directing
a careless apprentice. (Morrissey 1997: A24)
The same author dwells later in the article on the differences between Canadian
and Jamaican workers but at the same time appeals to the human equality of
both.
As tons of apples flew delicately into the bins, spirited discussions of every
aspect of life in Canada and Jamaica echoed throughout the trees. When
passionate disagreement flared too close to confrontation, there was one
phrase that dispelled the tension: “You be you. Me am me.”
The courtly grace and effectiveness of this phrase never ceased to amaze
me. This ability to acknowledge and even to honour valid differences while
remaining friends is the mark of truly civilized people. (A24)
The approval of the experience and skills affirms the natural gift for seasonal
labor, which the worker supposedly possesses. At the same time, a romanticized
image of difference and human equality conceals the structural disadvantages
and the condition of unfreedom imposed by the offshore program.
To complement the image of the orchard as the migrant worker’s natural
habitat, some articles portray migrant workers as enjoying seasonal farm labor
and the transient lifestyle that comes with it. An article in the Niagara Falls
Review, for instance, paints an image of a sixty-six-year-old fruit picker from
Jamaica, who has been coming to Ontario for twenty-six years, as an enthusias-
tic worker who happily returns every season:
For [migrant worker] Baker, it’s time to get back to work [after a Labour
Day celebration]. He hops on his bicycle and heads off through the orchard,
winding his way back to his fellow workers.
His enthusiastic approach to his work seems to say, “See you again next
year.” (Glantz 2000: A5)
The image of the superior orchard worker as a valuable commodity is dis-
rupted by the occasional article that seeks to expose the brutality of the offshore
program. A series in the Windsor Star, for example, reports on the harsh and
exploitative working conditions imposed by the offshore program:
When José Lopez came to work in Leamington’s greenhouses in 1990, his
first boss treated him shabbily. He was strict, expected superhuman speed
and refused to provide the Mexican workers with adequate medical care,
says Lopez.
. . . Lopez’s skittishness—his outright paranoia—is shared by many
workers and it means lingering pockets of mistreatment are downplayed
and details are scarce.
. . . “They’re fearful of reprisal,” said Rev. Frank Murphy, a Leamington
priest who works closely with migrant workers. “Don’t ask too many ques-
tions or your name just won’t get on that list.” (Welch 2000a: A10)
In cases of injustice experienced by the migrant workers, the newsprint media
sometimes even rallies behind the foreigners. For example, when two workers
were killed by a drunk Canadian driver in 1999, articles in the Hamilton Specta-
tor (Diebel 1999) and the Brantford Expositor (1999a) complained that the five-
year sentence was too short for the suffering endured by Jamaican coworkers
and relatives in Jamaica. An editorial in the Hamilton Spectator (1999b: D14)
suggests that racism played a role in the sentencing: “Suppose this drunk driver
had killed two young men from suburban Ancaster instead of two migrant farm
workers from Jamaica. Does anyone else wonder if the outcome would have been
the same?”
The local press usually speaks out against obvious racism. It sharply criticized
a series of racist attacks on offshore workers in Delhi (e.g., Hamilton Spectator 2000;
Miner 2000). A closer reading of this criticism, however, reveals that the opposi-
tion to racism is not a genuine defense of offshore workers’ rights as human be-
ings but an attempt to protect offshore labor as an economic resource to the
agriculture industry. In an interview with the Toronto Star, Ontario Police Ser-
geant Rob Bermuhler of Cayuga condemns the racist behavior of a Delhi resident
by stressing the economic value of foreign farmworkers: “‘That’s why we’ve gone
public,’ Bermuhler said. ‘They’re an important group to us economically and we
want them to know they’re welcome.’ . . . Workers like him [one of the migrant
workers interviewed for the article] are valued contributors to the province’s
farm economy, said Cooper, who is president of Foreign Agricultural Resources
Management Services, a program funded by the growers” (Harries 2000: A3).
Similarly, a letter to the editor of the Toronto Star in response to the same event
condemns racism in light of the economic contribution made by offshore work-
ers. Interestingly, the writer suggests that the work performed daily by offshore
workers would be a suitable punishment for a Canadian: “I hear that two indi-
viduals have been charged for several incidents against migrant farm workers
in Delhi, Ont. If they are convicted, I hope the judge will sentence them to at
least a week of labour alongside those they have abused. I can only hope that
these two receive an understanding of the difficulty of the job and of the contri-
bution these workers are making to our country” (Scott 2000: A12). A year ear-
lier, a separate incident of racism, which also occurred in Delhi, triggered a
similar response. The Hamilton Spectator published an article condemning rac-
ism because of the value of offshore workers as consumers:
There’s no doubt the workers are avid consumers. Friday night is shop-
ping night in the area’s urban centres. Clothing, footwear and appliances
are favoured goods among the workers, who send them home by ship. The
area’s retailers count on the workers to spend their money.
“The migrant workers are very important to business,” said Darryl
Harriott of Jack’s Smoke Shop on Main Street in downtown Delhi. (Proskaska
1999: A6)
By defending the migrant workers, the media protect the labor force neces-
sary for Ontario’s horticulture industry. The migrants-as-labor narrative comple-
ments the economy narrative. While offshore workers are seen as an economic
resource to Ontario’s horticulture, they are also depicted as naturally suited for
the farm work they are hired to perform. As potential criminals they are not de-
sired as permanent members of the local community. Rather, their place is in the
orchard, where they excel at work they enjoy. As the print media’s reaction to the
racist attacks against foreign migrant workers in Delhi illustrates, even public
opposition to the treatment of the foreign workers is articulated in such a man-
ner that it supports the idea of foreign migrant workers as abstract labor.
Social Mobility Narrative

A third narrative focuses on increased potential for consumption and a better
life that the offshore program creates for the workers’ families in Mexico and
the Caribbean. The message conveyed by this social mobility narrative is that
the work in Ontario’s horticulture enables poor families in less developed coun-
tries to achieve middle-class status. An article in the National Post summarizes
this narrative in the following manner: “German Gonzalez has been coming to
Canada to pick tomatoes at Great Northern Hydroponics, an industrial tomato
operation, for three years. . . . He realizes that the $15,000 he earns in eight
months here is a paltry sum in Canada. But in his hometown of Apan, in Hidalgo
State, his earnings translate into a priceless gift: social mobility. His children
began life as working class farmers; now two are in private school, one is a pilot
and another is studying law. He has also managed to build his own home”
(Jimenez 2001: A14). A picture accompanying an article (E. Smith 1996b) in
the Simcoe Reformer shows two children and their mother as the beneficiaries
of the money earned in Canada by their father (Figure 9.1). Offshore farm
labor is presented as a means to help poor families in foreign countries move
beyond poverty.
An important element in this narrative is the need among migrant workers
to earn Canadian money to educate their children in Mexico or the Caribbean
countries. The Windsor Star’s labor reporter, Mary Agnes Welch (2000d: G1),
followed migrant worker Francisco Baes back to Mexico, where she sought to
observe firsthand the impact of Canadian-earned money on the worker’s fam-
ily.5 She reports the following:
In a country where college is costly and government scholarships are doled
out based, in part, on the number of light sockets in the student’s house,
Baes is shepherding two of his sons through university. One son, who
FIGURE 9.1. Caribbean beneficiaries

of Canadian wages (Simcoe Reformer
photo)
barrels through the living room in his hospital gear, is studying to be a sur-
geon. Another is taking applied languages at the college in Tlaxcala, the
state capital.
How many more years will Baes apply to work in Canada?
“Until my sons are finished school,” he answers evenly.
Other newspaper articles focus on alternative benefits that the Canadian-
earned money provides to the workers and their families abroad. The Toronto
Star reports on a worker who intends to use his earnings to establish his own
publishing company in Trinidad. This article goes on to mention increased
consumption levels as a benefit of work in Canada. The opening passage reveals
the products the workers can now afford:
George Nash grimaces as the pointer on the luggage scale arcs past the 32-
kilogram mark. The Air Canada agent hands him an empty box, and Nash
moves to the side of the check-in counter to fill it with items from the
overweight carton that bears his address in the Jamaican countryside.
As the 42-year-old labourer rips open the carefully sealed container, its
contents come spilling out: 14-inch TV, pressure cooker, light bulbs, a
bottle of cod liver oil capsules. . . .
All around Nash, in Terminal 1 at Pearson International Airport, doz-
ens of men grapple with airline weight restrictions and bulging boxes and
suitcases crammed with the fruits of their labour. (Infantry 2000: A1)
Articles frequently mentioned electronics, such as DVD players, VCRs, cam-
eras, and portable stereo systems, as well as some everyday consumer products,
like refrigerators and sewing machines (e.g.. Jiminez 2001). What these articles
convey is that the work in Canada brings migrant workers closer to achieving
Canadian levels of consumption. In a letter to the Windsor Star, Denton Hoffman
(2001: A7), general manager of Ontario Greenhouse Vegetable Growers, defends
the use of offshore workers by using precisely the social mobility argument:
“Their wages are above minimum wage and are thousands of times more than
they can make at home; it helps workers better the lives of their families, in-
cluding sending children to college.”
The newsprint media often represents the work in Canada and participation
in the offshore program as a sacrifice the workers make for their families. In
response to the fatal cycling accident of two migrant workers, the Windsor Star
quotes a community member: “We’re all very upset. These are beautiful men
who work so hard for the love of their families” (Lajoie 2001: A3). In the con-
text of the same event, the Brantford Expositor presents a similar image of the
family-supporting worker who aspires to a Canadian standard of living:
They [fatally injured migrant workers] came to Canada to work for month
after long month, to earn money to support their families in Jamaica. They
had hopes and goals for the future to see them through the long hours of
labour. The Jamaican home of the young men was a poor, rural area with
high unemployment.
In Canada, the workers could earn nearly enough money in the tobacco
season to support their families in Jamaica. In Canada, the things we take
for granted are dreams unfulfilled in other lands. (Lee 1999: A9)
An article in the Simcoe Reformer even depicts the offshore program as a form
of foreign aid:
Fred Bozek, a Delhi tobacco farmer, said the work done by Jamaicans is
almost a form of foreign aid, one that reaches the grass roots level.
“We’re changing the Jamaican economy in the boonies [with the in-
come farm workers earn],” he said. (E. Smith 1996b)
This perspective of the offshore program as development assistance that pro-
vides economic prosperity for the workers’ families in the country of origin is
also pushed by program officials, who stress that the selection criteria for par-
ticipation in the program favors workers from poor households with little edu-
cation and who are married and support large families (Greenhill and Aceytuno
2000).6
The narrative of social mobility complements the other two narratives. In
particular, the combination of the economy narrative and the social mobility
narrative presents the offshore program as a win-win situation. Canadian farmers
receive the labor they demand, and, at the same time, they help poor families in
Mexico and the Caribbean to achieve their dreams.
Conclusion
Ontario’s newsprint media does not project a singular, one-dimensional image
of foreign farmworkers. Rather, it paints a complex picture involving several
coexisting narratives. Writers, reporters, and newspaper editors deploy these
narratives depending on their political orientation and the particular issue cov-
ered in their reports.
The narratives of foreign farmworkers tell different types of stories about the
migrant workers and the offshore program. In isolation, these stories are insuf-
ficient to present a coherent argument for the existing labor practices under the
offshore program. However, in combination, these narratives construct a mul-
tifaceted discourse that articulates a cohesive justification for labor exploitation.
According to this discourse, seasonal workers from Mexico and the Caribbean
are valuable contributors to the agricultural economy, but they are not seen as
desirable members of the community. Rather, their place is the orchard and the
farm where growers provide accommodation. Thus, the workers are welcomed
as seasonal labor but not as permanent members of the community. Further-

more, their temporary status in Canada is necessary so that they can return to
their families in Mexico and the Caribbean to deliver the consumer goods bought
in Canada and the Canadian-earned money that improves the lives of their fami-
lies and the future of their children. In combination, the three narratives legiti-
mate the offshore program and solidify public support for it.
Although the narratives of offshore labor illustrate how the offshore program
can be justified and ideologically supported, my analysis says little about how
these narratives are actually produced and what tools are being used for their
construction. The next chapter focuses on the deployment of geographical scale
and the representation of landscape to provide a closer look at the relationship
between the labor practices entrenched in the offshore program and cultural
representations of various aspects of the program.
◆ 10
LANDSCAPE AND SCALE
That the offshore program has remained in place for decades and public outcry
against it has been minimal is partly the achievement of a carefully spun dis-
course of foreign farm labor, as we saw in the previous chapter. In this chapter,
I examine how this discourse makes use of several strategies. First, it situates
the foreign migrant workers in the context of the familiar landscape of rural
Ontario. Second, it frames the representation of offshore labor in dualisms of
belonging and nonbelonging. Third, it associates various dualisms with differ-
ent geographical scales. These scale-particular representations enable seemingly
contradictory narratives to coexist. However, in the context of the wider dis-
course, geographical scales and associated dualisms interlock in a manner that
situates seasonal migrant labor in subordinate economic and marginal social
roles.
Offshore Workers in Ontario’s Rural Landscape

It is still common among scholars to use essentialized ethnic categories to as-
sess rural landscapes and examine social relationships in agricultural produc-
tion.1 In view of such scholarly practices, it is particularly important to expose
the ideological underpinnings of landscape representation. Geography has of-
fered many approaches, associated with different traditions of scholarship, to
the study of landscape. These approaches variously treat landscape as an expres-
sion of rural lifestyle, a manifestation of everyday social space, a material reflec-
tion of social relations, and an ideology. I assume the fourth perspective on
landscape, which George L. Henderson (2003) also describes as “apocryphal”
landscape because it reveals, not authentic social relations, but ideological ways
of seeing. When Stephen Daniels and Denis Cosgrove (1988: 1) say, “A land-
scape is a cultural image,” they refer to the ideological representation of people
and objects through landscape.2 According to this approach to landscape, the
manner in which people are situated and represented in landscape can reveal
ideologies of subordination and exclusion.3 For example, the portrayal of Gyp-
sies as uncivilized, dirty, and a “polluting presence” in the English countryside
reflects “the assumption that the countryside belongs to the privileged” (Sibley
1995: 107). In this context, landscape is the discursive construction of “a stereo-
typed pure space which cannot accommodate difference” (108). In a similar
manner, the representation of migrant workers in a rural landscape reveals
underlying ideologies.
In California, for example, the representation of landscape has historically
played an important role in the marginalization of migrant workers. Migrant
workers are not rendered completely invisible in the imagination of rural land-
scape, but they are pushed into the background of landscape imagery and rep-
resented in a light that devalues their presence and denies them the status of
full human beings (D. Mitchell 1996). As dehumanized and objectified labor,
migrant workers can legitimately be subject to processes of social exclusion and
economic exploitation.
In Ontario, Mexican and Caribbean migrant workers are not invisible in the
rural landscape. Yet, neither are they perceived as an integral, constitutive part of
Ontario’s rural landscape.4 Rather, they are represented as a foreign element in a
landscape defined by European Canadians who have farmed their land for gen-
erations. Although the presence of foreign migrant workers is acknowledged, these
workers are not perceived as part of the local community. Rather, they are repre-
sented as temporary visitors who leave again after the harvest—despite the fact
that many workers stay up to ten months in Ontario and return annually.
In many Ontario communities, “A part of the social landscape . . . has [be-
come] the image of Mexican men riding their bicycles along rural roads” (Basok
2002: 3). Because offshore workers cannot afford their own cars and public tran-
sit does not reach the farms where they live and work, they often travel by bike
to local stores, churches, and neighboring farms to visit fellow workers. News-
paper articles often mention bicycle-riding Jamaicans and Mexicans and rec-
ognize them in the visual scenery of rural southern Ontario. However, their
presence is presented as misplaced. They differ from European Canadian farm-
ers, whose images may appear in the popular imagination of the rural landscape
as handling big farming machinery and traveling through the rural landscape
hidden behind the windshield of a car or pickup truck. The images of bicycle-
riding migrant workers reinforce the sense of unbelonging.
These images of misplacement and unbelonging are solidified by reports in
the newsprint media of bicycle accidents, road safety training, and used bike
donations. For example, most newspapers in my sample reported about two
Mexican cyclists whose collision near Windsor in 2001 resulted in one death,
and the 1999 death of two Jamaican workers who were killed by a drunk driver.
The victims were almost always referred to as Mexicans or Jamaicans, identify-
LANDSCAPE AND SCALE 177
ing their status as foreigners and outsiders. The Brantford Expositor, for example,
reports, “The driver of the vehicle was traveling too fast, but he was also im-
paired, and it was the impairment that caused the deaths of the Jamaicans” (Lee
1999: A9).
After these spectacular accidents, newspapers announced that Niagara on
the Lake was offering bicycle safety training for offshore workers, and the
Building Bridges Through Bicycles program in Leamington won the Peter F.
Drucker Award for Canadian Nonprofit Innovation. University of Guelph
student Emmanuelle Lopez-Bastos was featured in the Guelph (Ontario) Mer-
cury for organizing a bicycle drive for migrant workers (Shuttleworth 2002).
The extensive reporting about these programs affirms the stereotype of the bi-
cycle-riding foreign worker as an alien, yet visible, element of the rural Ontario
landscape.
Some articles acknowledge that the migrant workers are treated as a sepa-
rate group from the rural village community. Windsor Star reporter Mary Agnes
Welch (2000e: A13), for example, writes about a festival, organized for the mi-
grant workers in Leamington, that was not visited by locals:
There was a rockin’ big party in the town’s back yard this summer, com-
plete with dancing, a blaring stereo, spicy food and some patriotic hollering.
The town barely noticed.
Hidden in the parking lot behind St. Michael’s Church, hundreds of
Mexican migrant workers gathered on the third Sunday in September to
celebrate their country’s independence from Spanish colonial rule. . . .
Much like the Mexicans themselves, the four-hour festival barely regis-
tered beyond St. Michael’s property line.
Apparently, the Leamington community does not incorporate migrant work-
ers into the imagined landscape of their town. A similar sentiment toward off-
shore workers is shared in other Ontario towns. An article confirms that offshore
workers are seen as separate from the Newmarket village community. This ar-
ticle emphasizes the need to establish a special ministry program to bring Mexi-
can migrant workers into contact with the local community. A parish social
minister is quoted in the Welland (Ontario) Tribune (2001: A10) as saying, “The
outreach aspect here is that people deserve to be included in the community
and not just used and ignored.”5
The imagined village landscape, which excludes offshore workers, and the
agricultural landscape with its images of distant bicycle riders who can be viewed
when passing by in a car, represent offshore workers as a separate group of people
who do not belong in rural Ontario. Although this us-versus-them perspective
denies offshore workers membership in the rural community—and the social,
economic, and legal rights that accompany membership—it does not amount
to a legitimation of the existing labor exploitation and material inequities that
characterize the offshore program. Such a project is associated with the discur-
sive deployment of scale.
Putting Migrants in Their Scale

Geographic scale is a powerful analytical concept for understanding the social
production of cultural landscape. Andrew Herod (1991: 84) remarks, “Scale is
not merely socially produced but is also socially producing.” The newsprint
media’s cultural representations of migrant workers at different scales are not
independent from scale-particular material practices of the offshore program
and the agricultural economy. My analysis of scale in media discourse focuses
on the ideological underpinnings and the “rhetorical stances of political actors”
(Delaney and Leitner 1997: 93), which shape the economic practices of the off-
shore program.
The relationship between the material and the ideological scales has already
been subjected to extensive examination in the context of labor conflict between
agricultural migrant workers and California growers in the 1930s. In this case,
local growers strategically evoked the local scale to depict transient migrant
workers as outsiders, thus dismissing their struggle and discrediting their po-
litical claims as illegitimate. The ideology of the local scale functioned as a pow-
erful tool to achieve political and economic aims (D. Mitchell 1996, 1998). In
contemporary Ontario, offshore farmworkers are similarly represented at a local
scale. Scale serves as the tool with which particular representations can be con-
structed, lending ideological legitimacy to the offshore program.
Regarding the discourse of foreign farm labor, scale permits telling different,
sometimes opposing narratives without presenting an internally inconsistent
overall story. Contradictions between narratives can be resolved by associating
each narrative with a particular scale, which does not appear to stand in a direct
relation to other scales. An additional rhetorical strategy, which applies to the
discourse of foreign farm labor, is the presentation of dualisms that juxtapose
places to which offshore workers belong with places to which they do not. The
representation of offshore workers relies on such dualisms associated with dif-
ferent spatial scales.
The first dualism distinguishes between the workplace and the living space.
The workplace is valorized; the living space is devalued. The narrative of mi-
grants as labor, which I described in the previous chapter, represents migrant
workers as belonging in the context of the workplace rather than the commu-
nity. They are depicted as dedicated and graceful in the manner in which they
perform harvesting work. Photographs accompanying the newspaper articles tend
to reinforce the image of the foreign farmworkers belonging to the workplace—
which is overseen by the Canadian farm owner, who has superior management
skills. For example, the Toronto Star printed a picture of FARMS president Gary
Cooper casually “chatting” and giving instructions, while one of his offshore
employees unloads a bucket of freshly picked apples from a farm truck (Lautens
2000: A10; Figure 10.1).
The ideological underpinnings of this narrative are revealed in text sequences
that suggest that the natural qualities of offshore workers and their “soft hands”
translate into economic benefits to growers, ultimately explaining the success
of Ontario’s horticulture industry. The Hamilton Spectator reports: “The off-
shore workers are said to ‘have soft hands,’ a reference to the fact that the fruit
they handle is rarely damaged. . . . If inspectors find too many apples bruised,
they’ll grade an entire truckload as cider apples which means the farmer gets $3
a bushel instead of $11” (Fitzgerald 2001: A8). Next to the high quality of work,
migrant workers also provide a high level of productivity, and growers benefit
from the workers’ ability to perform various tasks and their willingness to work
extra hours. An article in the Sarnia (Ontario) Observer describes the superior-
ity of offshore labor relative to Canadian labor:
[Farm] co-owner Bill Reid says he has to hire Mexicans because Canadi-
ans won’t do the work. “We can’t get them. The kids don’t even want to
pick rocks anymore. They want $12 an hour or they won’t even think about
it.” . . .
The Mexicans . . . “They’re good workers,” [Reid’s wife] Linda says.
“They pick, prune, hoe, they do whatever has to be done.” Bill Reid says
FIGURE 10.1. Harvest time: Gary Cooper, of Strawberry Tyme, chats with worker
Lansford Ferron as he dumps a bucket of apples (Photo by Richard Lautens/Toronto Star)
Canadians he’s hired in the past would pick an average of 50 quarts of straw-
berries a day. The Mexicans, by way of contrast, will collect upwards of 200.
And they’re “tickled pink” to work as many hours as they can. (McCaffery
1999: A1)
As in other articles, the reporter here stops short of acknowledging that the threat
of expulsion from the program and deportation from Canada puts the foreign
workers under pressure to work harder and longer hours than Canadians. The
condition of unfreedom, which creates the value associated with migrant labor
in the first place, goes unmentioned.
While the valorization of offshore labor in the workplace is necessary to jus-
tify the employment of foreign workers as economically rational, the migrants’
living space, which does not serve this economic objective, is de-emphasized.
For example, an article in the Ottawa Sun degrades the living quarters of mi-
grant workers relative to the “outside,” or the fields, in which they work: “The
two-bedroom trailer the four Barbadians call home has a full bathroom, a kitchen
and a living room with a television. Not spacious, but for these guys, the space
is outside” (Gray 1999: 16).6
The lack of acknowledgment of the workers’ living space dehumanizes
foreign migrants. The de-emphasis of the space where workers spend their time
off work, and the simultaneous emphasis on the workplace, signifies that
offshore workers are primarily workers rather than human beings. According
to the representation of the workers at the scale of the workplace and the liv-
ing space, offshore workers are labor power—a commodity bought by grow-
ers as an input factor for their operations. Their needs, desires, and integ-
rity as human beings are less important. As abstract labor,7 offshore workers
serve the purpose of generating value for the growers to run their operations
profitably.
A second dualism differentiates between the space of the farm and the space
of the community. Within these two spaces, offshore farmworkers assume dif-
ferent roles. On the farms, offshore workers are depicted as desirable, even irre-
placeable, labor. For example, the Ottawa Citizen writes: “‘Without migrant
workers, we wouldn’t have a fruit and vegetable industry in Ontario,’ says Alex
Just, 41, who has been using migrant workers for about 11 years” (Egan 1998).
As the economy narrative (examined in the previous chapter) demonstrated,
many newspaper articles echo Tanya Basok’s (2002) assessment that migrant
workers constitute a structural necessity for Ontario’s horticulture industry. The
work performed by offshore labor on the farm enables growers to stay in busi-
ness despite economic restructuring and increased competition for labor. The
Owen Sound Sun Times reports:
When Robert Taylor’s father ran the family orchard, growers drew labour
from neighbouring farms.
Back then, neighbours anxious to earn some extra spending money for
Christmas lined up for the opportunity to help harvest Georgian Bay apples.
“But the days of the small family farm are over. These days farmers are
busy with their own large scale operations or they have jobs off the farm to
make ends meet,” said Taylor. By the time Taylor took over the operation
of Oaklane Orchards in Clarksburg in 1972, the foreign migrant program
had been bringing in workers from the Caribbean for five years. (Avery
1999: A5)
To sustain this economy narrative, which exists, in this case, at the local scale
and associates offshore labor with the space of the farm, a parallel perspective
represents offshore workers as outsiders in the space of the community. One
article in the Windsor Star features the complaints of Kingsville residents who
wanted city council to remove their Mexican neighbors:
“Ten migrant workers living in a residential neighbourhood is unaccept-

able,” said Pitkin, the head of the guidance department at Harrow District
Secondary School.
“Migrant workers by their very definition are transitionary. That home
should be used for people who are going to live there and stay there. We
want to develop relationships with our neighbours.”
Mayor Pat O’Neil said . . . if it’s determined that the home is being used
illegally, the municipality will take steps to make sure the bylaws are en-
forced. (Stewart 2001: A4)8
The image of migrant workers as social misfits is particularly apparent in their

frequent depictions as criminals and trouble makers (as we saw in chapter 9).
The spatial context in which these characteristics are usually attributed to the
foreign workers is the local community.9 Of course, most workers live on the
farms, and contact with the local population is therefore limited to occasional
and impersonal encounters in grocery stores, banks, and pubs (Bauder et al.
2003). It is therefore plausible that popular images are easily shaped and dis-
torted by media representations. When newspapers report on migrant workers
in the context of the local community, the image conveyed to the reader is often
a negative one. In a revealing report on a Mexican Independence Day celebra-
tion in Leamington, the Windsor Star reports that the local mayor expressed his
surprise about the peaceful behavior of the offshore workers: “During a rare day
of fun, the workers were treated to a cavalcade of traditional folk dancing, a two-
table buffet of Mexican food and some door prizes. A few words of thanks were
offered from one or two civic leaders, including Leamington Mayor David
Wilkinson, who praised the men for their hard work and delivered a backhanded
endorsement of their good behaviour, expressing surprise at ‘how little trouble
we’ve had’” (Welch 2000e: A13).
The only time migrant workers are depicted positively in the context of the
community is as consumers, a role in which offshore workers again contribute
to the well-being of Ontario’s community. The value of migrant workers’ con-
sumer power to the community is acknowledged in the Hamilton Spectator:
Much of the combined $90 million in salaries [of migrant workers in the
Simcoe area] is pumped back into the local economy. According to
[FARMS president] Cooper, Christmas comes twice to Simcoe, once in
December and another in September.
“He’s absolutely right,” says Al Schott, owner of Schott’s Home Hard-
ware. “There’s been years when the economy wasn’t worth a darn and the
difference between us winning and losing was the migrant farm worker.”
On Fridays, there are no fewer than 100 migrant workers in his store at
a time between 5 p.m. and closing. They buy mostly televisions, stereos
and tools, which are much cheaper than they are at home.
And that’s good news for Rob Lall’s cargo company. He ships stoves,
freezers, TVs, stereos, bicycles and toiletries in more than 500 jam-packed
crates to the Caribbean each fall. (Fitzgerald 2001: A08)
The Christmas-comes-twice metaphor is also expressed in an article published
in the Toronto Star:
On Friday evenings, Simcoe area farmers bus their 4,500 foreign workers
into town for banking and shopping. . . .
“If you go into town on a Friday night, it’s all Mexicans and Jamaicans;
they represent 37 percent of my weekly business,” says Lance Farrish, who
manages the Simcoe Town Centre’s A&P.
. . . “They say Christmas comes twice a year in Simcoe and some say Sep-
tember sales exceed December sales,” says farmer Schuyler.
Rob Lall’s cargo company ships stoves, freezers, bicycles, and more than
500 filled-to-the-brim barrels to the Caribbean for the workers each fall.
“Every single store in this town depends on them,” says Lall, who also
runs a West Indian food store that’s open daily at harvest times and only
on weekends when the workers have gone home.
A 1995 Canadian Horticultural Study estimated the seasonal workers
boost the rural Ontario economy by $33.6 million. (Infantry 2000: A10)
At the farm/community scale, the economic contribution of offshore workers
as laborers and consumers is valorized. At the same time, the media express
concerns about the threat to the community from the presence of foreign work-
ers. This local scale facilitates an ideology of economic exploitation and social
exclusion.
The third dualism distinguishes between Canada and the “homeland.” This
dualism depicts Canada as the superior place to work, and Mexico and the
Caribbean as the suitable place for migrant workers to live and raise their fami-
lies. The social mobility narrative, discussed in the previous chapter, is mostly
attributable to this international scale.
The emphasis on different earning levels between Canada and Mexico and
the Caribbean facilitates the representation of offshore workers as mere labor
in Canada, who become human beings only when they return to their home-
land. For example, the Sarnia Observer remarks, “The money isn’t a lot, but it
goes a long way in their homeland. ‘They live like kings all winter,’ [farmer] Bill
Reid said” (McCaffery 1999: A1). Articles consistently stressed the superior
Canadian wages and working conditions. For example, in a letter to the editor,
a farmer assertively responds to a report in the Windsor Star that was critical of
offshore workers’ working conditions:
I have just spent $300,000 on housing for my migrant labour and, if I may
be so bold, living conditions in housing in Leamington far exceeds those
in Mexico. By the way, living quarters are inspected and must meet stan-
dards set by the government before they are approved. As for wages, these
too are superior to Mexican wages and most migrant workers know this
and want to work as many hours as possible.
. . . To state the facts, Mexican migrant workers are flown to Canada,
provided housing, access to medical care, living conditions and earning
potential—all of which are superior to their own country. (Huy 2001: A11)
Other authors emphasize the harsh economic conditions in Mexico and the
Caribbean, which put the migrants in the desperate situation that is exploited
by local growers. The following excerpt, taken from a series in the Windsor Star
on the life of offshore workers in Mexico, describes the opportunity that arises
for Mexican workers with the chance to join the Canadian offshore labor pro-
gram: “When Rivera was 16 . . . he had long abandoned school and was soon
to start working for an electricity contractor installing wall sockets and light
switches in rich people’s homes on the outskirts of Irapuato. What’s a well-
paying skilled trade in Canada pays barely $4 a day in Mexico and the work is
sporadic. And, there’s not much chance to ferret out a job in Irapuato that pays
like a Canadian greenhouse” (Welch 2000f: G2).10
The differences in wage structure and living standards are used to justify the
low standards for Mexican and Caribbean workers in Canada. The juxtaposi-
tion of economic circumstances in Canada and in the homeland enables the
depiction of migrant workers as earning high wages, enjoying good working
conditions, and living in luxurious accommodations—although their earnings
are low, their working conditions miserable, and their living arrangements poor
by Canadian standards.
The juxtaposition of Canada with the homeland is central to the social up-
ward mobility narrative. The substandard treatment of offshore workers in
Canada can be justified when this work enables the workers to raise their con-
sumption levels in their homeland. An article in the Simcoe Reformer compares
Canadian and Jamaican patterns of consumption, implying that the offshore
program permits participants to achieve a life at home that mirrors that of a
Canadian family: “The extra income helps them to purchase some of the con-
sumer goods most North Americans take for granted. After nine years, their
standard of living is princely compared with that of other local Jamaicans. The
Browns dress in Canadian casual wear and have a television, a VCR, a refrigera-
tor, a sewing machine, and a 35–mm camera, all shipped or carried back from
stores in Tillsonburg or Delhi. Music is one of Brown’s joys and he adds to his
collection of cassettes each summer” (E. Smith 1996a: 4). This article is accom-
panied by a picture of Mr. Brown standing in “Canadian-style” clothes in front
of his motorcycle in his native Jamaica (Figure 10.2).
Conclusion
The discourse of foreign farm labor makes use of several strategies to maintain
coexisting narratives that exclude migrant labor from the imagined commu-
nity of rural Ontario and that legitimate existing exploitative and coercive labor
practices. One strategy is landscape representation. The newsprint media rep-
resents offshore workers as alien elements in the small-town and rural landscape
FIGURE 10.2. “Princely” stan-

dard of living in Jamaica (Sim-
coe Reformer photo)
of Ontario. Notably, the image of the bicycle-riding migrant worker is rooted

in the fact that migrant workers cannot afford cars and have no access to alter-
native means of transportation. Thus, the representation of migrant workers in
the rural landscape is itself a reflection of the workers’ material deprivation.
However, the landscape of rural Ontario is not simply the mirror image of ex-
isting social relations; it also expresses an ideal in which bike-riding migrant
workers appear as misplaced and unbelonging. This view of landscape pushes
foreign migrant workers into the role of social outsiders.
A second strategy is the use of geographical scale. Individual narratives that
compose the wider discourse of foreign farm labor are situated at different scales.
A third strategy, which is embedded in scale-particular representations, is the
construction of dualisms, which distinguish between places of belonging and
unbelonging. At the workplace/living space scale, migrants are valorized as
workers but devalued as human beings, making them a desired labor force but
undesirable human beings. On the farm/community scale, foreign farmworkers
are depicted as a structural necessity for Ontario’s farming operations and a
valuable asset to the local retail sector, but as a nuisance and cultural threat to
the rural community. The Canada/homeland scale represents Canada as a su-
perior workplace, offering an explanation for the attraction of migrant workers
to Canada, and the country of origin as the economically inferior place, justify-
ing the substandard working conditions on Canadian farms and stressing the
economic opportunities that emerge for the foreign workers in Canada.
These strategies of scale enable interlocking narratives to coexist and to pro-
duce a powerful discourse of foreign labor that simultaneously identifies migrants
as a cultural threat, valorizes their economic contribution, and commodifies but
subordinates their labor. Moreover, the exploitative and coercive labor practices
of the offshore program can now be justified as an all-win situation that enables
poor families in developing counties to raise their consumption levels, while
strengthening Ontario’s agricultural economy and preserving the cultural integ-
rity of the village community. These representations coordinated on three scales
produce a pervasive discourse that legitimates the current labor regime and thereby
assumes an important role in the regulation of labor markets.
◆ 11
FARMFARE
In the summer of 1999, the provincial government of Ontario proposed to make

Canadian welfare recipients work as seasonal labor in the horticulture sector.
This idea came to be known as farmfare. Farmfare was not an entirely new idea.
In 1971, Canada’s Parliament debated this topic under the rubric “Manpower:
Use of Unemployed and Students Instead of West Indians to Pick Fruit.” Pierre
Elliot Trudeau, then prime minister of Canada, defended the offshore program
as necessary to fill jobs “which the unemployed and the students refuse to do”
(quoted in Sharma 2001: 432). In August 1999, with neoliberalism at the top of
the provincial policy agendas, the idea was floated again by a conservative mem-
ber of the provincial parliament, Toni Skarica. This time, farmfare was not pre-
sented as an employment opportunity for desperate workers but as a disincentive
to sign up for welfare. Ontario premier Mike Harris added momentum to the
debate by raising the issue to reporters. Harris suggested that manual labor on
Ontario’s farms could change the supposedly negative attitudes toward work
among welfare recipients: “Getting up in the morning, getting regular, manag-
ing your time, getting out and doing things, feeling good about producing some-
thing, doing some work, they are all important . . . to help break that cycle of
dependency” (quoted in Ibbitson 1999: A12). He also suggested that farmfare
could help Ontario’s agricultural industries to deal with seasonal labor short-
ages (Gray 1999). In September 1999, Ontario’s Social Service Department con-
firmed that farmfare could be justified under Ontario’s workfare requirement
that “able-bodied” welfare recipients should either train or work or lose their
benefits.
These were harsh words and tough measures proposed by the provincial
government. Little wonder that farmfare generated fierce debate over the mer-
its and potential consequences of such a program. Social advocacy groups, such
as the Ontario Coalition Against Poverty, labor unions, and churches, includ-
ing the United Church of Canada, mobilized opposition against farmfare. The
FARMFARE 187
United Farm Workers initiated a petition against the implementation of farmfare,

which opposition politicians presented on several occasions to the Legislative
Assembly of Ontario. The last mention of farmfare in the Ontario Legislature
occurred in November 2000 (Assemblée Législative de l’Ontario 2000). The labor
and welfare advocates had won a public relations battle against the conservative
government.
What makes the farmfare debate particularly interesting in the context of
labor migration is that it proposed to replace foreign seasonal harvesters from
Mexico and the Caribbean with Canadian welfare recipients. Two strategies of
labor regulation, workfare (or welfare-to-work schemes) and the offshore pro-
gram, were placed in competition with each other. Although farmfare was never
implemented, the debate on farmfare illustrates how Ontario’s agricultural labor
market is institutionally regulated. This debate reveals to what degree ideolo-
gies of market liberalization penetrate this system of regulation and what role
labor migration and citizenship play in regulating this system.
The system of institutions that regulate Ontario’s labor market is too com-
plex for detailed treatment in this chapter. However, the offshore program and
workfare are illustrative examples of two components of this system. An im-
portant difference between the offshore program and workfare is that they are
managed at different levels of government. The Canadian Constitution divides
responsibilities of government between federal and provincial/territorial juris-
dictions. The offshore program is managed by the federal administration in
cooperation with foreign governments and local industry. Welfare, workfare,
and employment standards are provincial responsibilities.1 In addition to varia-
tions in their organization and administration, the two programs differ in terms
of their aims, histories, and target populations. For example, the offshore pro-
gram obviously recruits workers from abroad, whereas workfare targets Ontario
residents. Despite these differences, the offshore program and workfare are both
part of a wider “regulatory project” (Peck 2001: 19) of lowering the floor of
minimal working conditions and undermining labor’s bargaining position. Both
programs seek to add a segment to the bottom of the agricultural labor market
of Ontario, below the labor standards that apply to Canadian workers.
Before I examine the debate that surrounded the two competing programs,
it is useful to have a closer look at the history of workfare in Ontario.
Workfare in Ontario
The term workfare is a “label for work-enforcing welfare reform,” and an “um-
brella term for a wide range of welfare-to-work policies” (Peck 2001: 1). Workfare
describes a trend of labor market regulation that is observable throughout North
America, Europe, and other industrialized economies (Cope and Gilbert 2001;
Peck 2001; Shragge 1997b). After the conservative turn in Ontario politics in 1995,
workfare also became a major topic in this province (Lightman 1997; Mosher
2000; Torjman 1996). The aim of workfare is to move people from welfare into
the labor market. The underlying idea is that people become self-sufficient and
contribute to the overall well-being of society through gainful employment. This
view implies that people who are not working are not economically productive
and therefore parasitic on society. According to this perspective, participation
in the labor market is a civic duty, unemployment is an individual rather than
market failure, and the public should not assume responsibility for the economic
hardship experienced by the unemployed. Workfare not only seeks to force
people into the labor market; it is also supposed to cultivate a work ethic among
welfare recipients, providing an opportunity to break an endless cycle of pov-
erty, joblessness, and irresponsibility and join the economically productive parts
of society.
Workfare programs in Canada and the United States, however, have failed
to deliver what they promise. Despite the claim to move massive numbers of people
from welfare to work, workfare programs have relatively few participants. In ad-
dition, despite the promise of being the more cost-effective solution, workfare
programs tend to be more costly than keeping participants on welfare rolls. Fur-
thermore, workfare does not create new jobs to absorb the unemployed but
redistributes the existing, sparsely available jobs (Peck 2001). “The central con-
tradiction [of workfare] is that the number of jobs are scarce relative to the in-
creasing number of people dependent on welfare. Why, then, push people into
the labour market?” asks Shragge (1997a: 30).
Several explanations have been offered to answer this question. First, wel-
fare can be seen as a tactic of capitalism to appease a dissatisfied working class.
Making a limited number of concessions to labor unions and leftist political
organizations was a strategy to keep workers from striking, revolting, and de-
manding more fundamental changes or even demolishing the capitalist system
(McGilly 1991; Piven and Cloward 1971). This tactic was particularly relevant
during an era when a socialist alternative existed in the form of the Soviet Union.
With the collapse of the Soviet Union and apparent failure of the communist
project, workfare presents a way to test how far these concessions to the work-
ing class can be rolled back without triggering a renewed public revolt. A sec-
ond explanation stresses the active role of workfare in regulating the labor
market. Welfare has protected unemployed workers and workers in the lowest
labor market segment from the most brutal and self-destructive competition;
workfare removes this protection and pits the employed against the unemployed
(Armitage 1991; Shragge 1997a). The effects of this competition “ripple through
the labor market as a whole” (Peck 2001: 39), undercutting workers’ bargain-
ing positions across a wider spectrum of occupations. A third explanation sug-
gests that workfare delivers a cheap and flexible labor force directly to employers.
The agricultural sector has been portrayed as needing this welfare labor, par-
FARMFARE 189
ticularly in the context of seasonal labor demands. Forcing welfare recipients to

participate in workfare schemes is a “technique [that] can be used to supply mini-
mum wage labour directly for fruit picking and other short term seasonal jobs”
(Armitage 1991: 44). These explanations are not mutually exclusive. Rather, as
my analysis reveals, they complement each other in many ways.
Canada and its provinces began pursuing welfare reform relatively late com-
pared to the United States. Although welfare is a provincial responsibility in
Canada, the first reform initiative was taken in 1995 by the federal government
in revoking the Canada Assistance Plan Act, which prevented provinces from
making welfare recipients work in exchange for their benefits. This Act was re-
placed with the Canada Health and Social Transfer Act, which allowed provinces
to implement workfare schemes. In 1997, the conservative Ontario government
responded to the new federal legislation with two provincial reform packages: the
Social Assistance Reform Act and the Ontario Works Act. These two pieces of
legislation established a provincial workfare program called Ontario Works.2
These new measures were designed to increase the pressure on designated wel-
fare recipients to either join the labor market or participate in work-readiness
schemes.
However, in the first few years of its existence, workfare affected only 2 to
5 percent of all welfare recipients in Ontario (Peck 2001: 148). Thus, it did not
succeed in moving significant numbers of welfare recipients into the labor
market. Nevertheless, the program cannot be declared an outright failure in
terms of conservative policy and neoliberal interests. Workfare’s greatest achieve-
ment is that the prospect of being forced to work effectively deters many eligible
persons from claiming welfare support in the first place. The threat of workfare,
rather than workfare itself, achieves the program’s goals. Under these circum-
stances, workfare functions “as a discursive strategy” (Peck 2001: 121; see also
Fraser and Gordon 1994) that is just as powerful by suggestion as by the actual
implementation of the measures proposed by it. In addition, workfare “seeks
to make a virtue of ‘flexible labor markets’” (Peck 2001: 19) by labeling welfare
recipients who do not conform to the new work ethic as lazy, untrustworthy,
and parasitic on society. Although the proposal of farmfare evoked the usual
reactions that follow workfare proposals, the public response to farmfare dif-
fered because the proposal clashed with an existing labor management scheme,
the offshore program. The emerging public debate revealed important differ-
ences about the perception of foreign and Canadian labor.
An interesting twist to the media debate on farmfare is that opposition came
not only from labor unions and civil rights advocates, as expected, but also from
Ontario’s growers, who were the intended beneficiaries of the cheap and flex-
ible workfare labor. They were concerned that their foreign workers would be
replaced with Canadian welfare recipients, who would be neither as flexible nor
as exploitable as foreign labor. The offshore program is apparently a more
attractive labor control system to growers than farmfare. The disapproval of

growers likely contributed to the failure of the Ontario government to replace
offshore workers with farmfare participants. This reaction from the growers also
illustrates that the institutional regulation of labor markets is not a process that
is contained within local, regional, or even national boundaries.3 Rather, inter-
national labor migration is an important regulatory process, even in the con-
text of national and regional workfare debates.4
The Farmfare Debate

The media debate on farmfare revealed important motivations and politics
behind workfare and offshore programs. Several newspaper reports echoed the
statement of the Ontario premier, that “getting up in the morning, . . . feeling
good about producing something,” will “help break that cycle of dependency.”
A commentator relates this statement to his own experience as a tobacco and
fruit picker during his youth. In the Hamilton Spectator he suggests that this
job taught him the necessary attitude toward work that enabled him to succeed
in the labor market as an adult:
I was born in Brantford and most of my relatives, including my parents,
had planted, suckered, primed, sewn or hung kiln on a tobacco farm. I
wanted to see what it was like. My thinking went like this: If this was the
hardest job around, it was a good idea to get it over with at 17. That way,
everything else in the next 48 years of working life would seem easier by
comparison.
[When the work ended,] we felt great but also sad. We knew we had
changed. (Hemsworth 1999: A3)
The author presented this anecdote in the context of a discussion of farmfare to
illustrate that seasonal farmwork does have a formative effect on workers, who
are presumed to be undisciplined, spoiled, and perhaps even lazy. According
to this line of thinking, farmwork could be used as a form of boot camp for
welfare recipients, who are assumed to lack a strong work ethic.
Other voices in the newsprint media were more critical of the farmfare pro-
posal. Some commentators questioned whether farm labor would equip workfare
participants with any valuable skills that could be used once the harvesting sea-
son is over. An article in the Kitchener-Waterloo Record claims, “The welfare
workers would not learn a skill that would provide them with regular income”
(C. Taylor 1999: A20). This view acknowledges that farmfare will not lead to
permanent employment but will turn welfare participants into a flexible labor
force that can be activated on a seasonal basis. An article in the Kingston (Ontario)
Whig Standard articulated this particular critique: “The plan to use welfare re-
cipients as farm labourers does not make sense. It is, at best, a forced labour
FARMFARE 191
plan that will have limited benefit. At worst, it is the kind of social tinkering
that in past years was associated with the heyday of Stalinism when people were
also made to work on farms” (Wilhelm 1999: 6).
The argument most often raised against farmfare, however, was that Cana-
dian welfare recipients are not fit for employment in the seasonal horticulture
industry. Due to a presumed lack of skills and work ethic among Canadian
workers, “Farmers are often forced to hire migrant workers, many from Mexico
and the Caribbean, to help with the annual harvest” (Kitchener-Waterloo Record
1999: B7). Along the same lines, an article in the Toronto Star quotes a farmer
who claims to favor farmfare but who also implies that Canadian workfare par-
ticipants would be reluctant to take on strenuous farmwork:
Meaford farmer Rob Gardner, who has been using offshore labour to pick
his apples for more than a decade, supports Harris’ suggestion that workfare
recipients be sent to help out in Ontario orchards.
“They’re welcome here. It’s strenuous work, but if they are ready and
able to do it, we can use them . . . we would be glad to see the money kept
in Canada,” he said. (Mallan 1999: A7)
A recurring argument in the debate on farmfare in the newsprint media sug-
gests that welfare recipients and offshore migrants are not readily interchange-
able workforces. In fact, from the growers’ perspective, offshore workers are
superior to Canadian workfare participants. Many newspaper articles support
this argument. For example, the Ottawa Sun reports that foreign workers are
more motivated and reliable than Canadian welfare recipients would be:
Michael Mazur, the executive secretary of the Ontario Fruit and Vegetable
Growers’ Association, said it isn’t quite as simple as rounding up some un-
employed city folk and busing them to the ripening harvests.
“With the perishable nature of our industry, certain harvests require
delicate hands,” he explained. “I’m not saying I couldn’t do it or you
couldn’t do it, it’s more a work ethic and you have to want to do it.”
. . . Charles Stevens . . . and his wife Judi operate Wilmot Orchards, where
[four] Barbadians and four Mexicans complement the local workers.
Standing in his 100-acre orchard he is adamant about the importance
of having reliable workers.
“Sure [the migrant workers] are the most expensive, but you can’t get
much more reliable than having your workers right there,” he said. (Gray
1999: 16)
The author of a letter to the editor of the Kingston Whig Standard makes a simi-
lar point, suggesting that offshore workers are more professional and experi-
enced than local workers: “Why import workers from Mexico and the Caribbean
when there are workers in one’s own backyard? . . . These people are professional,
seasoned workers who are used to moving from area to area, crop to crop. They
work fast and hard, and then they go back home. . . . Farmers do not need a
bunch of unwilling amateurs to harvest their crop” (Wilhelm 1999: 6).
While offshore workers are represented as extremely skilled and motivated—
something we have already observed in chapter 9 in the context of the migrants-
as-labor narrative—welfare recipients are depicted as ill-suited for farm work.
The Ottawa Sun (1999: 10) projected that farm operators would fail because
welfare recipients lack the necessary work ethic:
Some area produce growers say Ontario welfare recipients couldn’t stand
the grind of harvesting their crops.
“If I wanted to go bankrupt . . . that’s the only way I’d take welfare re-
cipients instead of Mexicans,” said Alex Just, of Alexandria, who relies on
off-shore workers to get his fruits and vegetables picked and packed for
market.
Likewise, a grower implies in a letter to the editor of the Toronto Star that the
lack of skills and motivation among welfare recipients would have negative
consequences for the entire agricultural industry if the Ontario government’s
farmfare plans were implemented. This grower writes: “I am not promoting
workfare in the agricultural industry. It would be disastrous. We are depending
on our crop to make a living and it has to be saleable after it is picked. Our
employees must want to work, not be forced to work” (Drummond 1999: A23).
An editorial in the Hamilton Spectator (1999a: D12) expresses the same view,
that the lack of skills among farmfare workers would harm the industry:
Even with training for [farmfare] participants, we doubt farmers can be
assured of their productivity. Missing part of the crop or mishandling the
harvest could cost a farmer thousands of dollars. Tobacco, fruit and pro-
duce have to be picked at the right moment. The crop that’s missed may
never be harvested; the fruit that’s bruised may never be saleable.
Migrant workers, on the other hand, want the jobs and know that pro-
ductivity is the only way to be rehired next year.
The previous two excerpts argue that offshore workers are superior workers
because they “want the jobs.” Farmfare labor, on the other hand, would be in-
ferior because these workers need to be “forced to work.” This image of the self-
motivated offshore worker who is not only skilled and professional but loves
the work is, of course, a gross distortion of the actual circumstances embedded
in the offshore program. The offshore program is an extremely coercive labor
regime that exploits international differences in wage and labor standards. Al-
though farmfare would also have been a coercive and exploitative labor regime,
it would have been so to a lesser degree. Whereas foreign offshore workers can
be threatened with dismissal from employment and deportation from Canada,
FARMFARE 193
Canadian welfare recipients possess a range of civil and citizenship rights that
protect them from similar fates. Because of these circumstances, the offshore
program appears to supply more hard-working, reliable, and motivated work-
ers than farmfare could provide.
Ironically, the debate on farmfare represents foreign workers as more suit-
able to work in Canada than Canadian workers. This representation, however,
is not inconsistent with segmentation theory. Immigrant and foreign labor is
depicted as suitable only as secondary labor. It performs its regulatory role by
filling positions in the secondary segment of the labor market. In fact, as one of
the most vulnerable workforces in Canada, offshore workers must perform the
least desired jobs available in the country. In this function, offshore labor is a
necessary element of the horticulture industry that cannot be replaced with labor
that is protected by Canadian citizenship rights and privileges. Such a replace-
ment would endanger the profitability of the horticulture industry.
Citizenship and Double Standards

In contrast to offshore workers, farmfare participants would have been Cana-
dian citizens with social and economic rights that limit the degree to which they
can be coerced and exploited. If farmfare had been implemented, Canadian
workers may have resisted substandard working conditions and refused partici-
pation and could not have been subjected to the pressure exerted by the strict
guidelines of the offshore program. Many growers rejected farmfare for these
reasons. Offshore workers, on the other hand, experience “the tenacity of na-
tional, territorially based sovereignty to restrict rights to individuals originat-
ing from outside” Canada’s borders (Stasiulis and Bakan 1997: 131).
The analysis of newspaper content illustrates that Canadian welfare partici-
pants and foreign seasonal workers are held to different labor standards. News-
paper articles apply this double standard by promoting minimum working
conditions for potential farmfare participants different from those for foreign
offshore workers. An article in the Hamilton Spectator suggests that Canadian
citizens should not be expected to perform farm labor: “Agricultural work is
hard labour. Rose Charles, 56, wouldn’t mind the work if she didn’t have a back
injury; she likes to keep busy. She laughs, however, at the idea that people might
have to take an agricultural job or forfeit their welfare. ‘They can’t make people
do that kind of work’” (Hepfner 1999: A3). The same article quotes the spokes-
woman for Hamilton-based Women Against Poverty, who implies that farm
labor is too strenuous for Canadian welfare recipients: “‘[Farmfare] sounds a
lot like slavery to me. Some of these people barely have enough to eat and pick-
ing food is hard work. You need to be healthy.’ . . . It’s difficult, she said, for the
minimum-wage workers to get out to the rural areas and get enough food in
their stomachs to sustain them throughout the long days” (A3).
While most commentators in the newsprint media reject farmfare for im-
posing unacceptable working conditions on Canadian citizens, these same work-
ing conditions are apparently acceptable for foreign workers—although foreign
workers confront circumstances of hardship equal to, if not worse than, those
of welfare recipients. Most offshore workers come from poor and large fami-
lies. In fact, economic hardship and a large number of dependents are selection
criteria for participation in the offshore program. Few workers have access to
health care in their countries of origin, and many suffer from food shortage.
When they work in Canada, access to health care remains constrained, they have
minimum-standard bunk accommodations, they are separated from their fami-
lies, and they live in unfamiliar social and cultural surroundings. If consistent
standards were applied, public outcry should have been louder against the so-
cial conditions and labor standards endured by the offshore workers than against
proposed farmfare. Yet, the opposite was the case.
Some articles attempt to justify this double standard in the treatment of
foreign and Canadian workers by referring to foreign and welfare workers’ sup-
posedly different physical suitability for harvest work in Ontario’s summer
heat. For example, Ed Segsworth, president of the Ontario Federation of Ag-
riculture, is quoted as suggesting that welfare recipients “are not used to be-
ing out in the hot sun all day whereas the migrant workers from the warmer
climates are” (Boyle 1999: C4). In another article, the Hamilton Spectator
(1999a: D12) presents a similar argument of varying coping skills and physi-
cal abilities:
[Reforming workfare] is not as simple as idleness or laziness. Farm labour
can be brutally hard, hot work. Most farmers—and the migrant workers
they use now—have grown up doing it.
An inexperienced “city mouse” dropped into the high-pressure situa-
tion of a working farm at harvest time may simply be unable to cope—and
risks serious injury or worse. Farms are still among the most dangerous
workplaces in this country.
Such racialized representations of offshore workers, however, were rare occur-
rences in the context of the farmfare debate (although racial stereotyping is
common in the newsprint coverage of offshore workers, as chapter 9 illustrated).
Perhaps racial categories are less suited to represent non-European foreign
workers as more industrious and disciplined than welfare participants, who are
imagined to belong to the European-origin majority. More likely, however, the
farmfare debate has successfully used the notion of citizenship as a mechanism
of distinction, rendering the racialization of foreign workers redundant.
A better explanation for the different levels of suitability of farmfare and
offshore labor is the varying means to discipline labor under the offshore pro-
gram and proposed farmfare. If offshore workers and their families had social
FARMFARE 195
and economic rights and citizenship privileges similar to Canadian welfare par-
ticipants’, their suitability for seasonal farm labor would likely diminish rap-
idly. The narrative of physical and mental differences between foreign workers
and Canadian welfare recipients merely serves to legitimate varying labor stan-
dards imposed on workers with different rights and privileges.
An article in the Ottawa Sun (1999: 10), for example, links the existing double
wage standard to the unwillingness among Canadians to perform “back-breaking”
farm labor. Canadian workers receive a bonus when they demonstrate a degree
of discipline that is expected in harvesting work. However, offshore workers
(who are generally represented as more disciplined and willing to perform
strenuous farmwork) do not receive this bonus:
Iroquois farmer Calvin Dentz scoffed at the idea of replacing nine tomato
and apple pickers from Mexico with Ontario welfare recipients.
. . . He’d hire more Mexicans if he could.
He says he also employs about a dozen Canadians who get $7 an hour
plus a bonus for “showing up every day.”
[Farmers] agree most Canadians aren’t up to the back-breaking task of
picking produce.
The debate on farmfare illustrates that the concept of citizenship exploita-
tion can be useful to explain differences between workers in a single labor mar-
ket. In Ontario’s seasonal horticulture industry, foreign offshore workers and
Canadian welfare participants are treated differently because of their citizen-
ship. A FARMS-sponsored report, for example, presents the exploitation of
cheap and vulnerable foreign labor within Canada’s borders as a positive ac-
complishment of the offshore program, which strengthens the Canadian
economy:
The citizens of Canada and their elected representatives have a choice. They
can consume products that are:
1. Grown in the U.S.A., harvested by Caribbean/Mexican workers
2. Grown in Mexico, harvested by Mexican workers
or
3. Grown in Canada, harvested by Caribbean/Mexican workers.
The choice is clear! Only those crops, grown in Canada and harvested by
Caribbean and Mexican workers, create jobs for Canadians. (Stevens As-
sociates 2003: 8)
The stringent guidelines of the offshore program provide growers with a disci-
plined labor force of foreigners that can be compensated with wages below the
expectations of Canadian workers, who are not subjected to the same regula-
tions. The apparent effect is a devaluation of the work performed by foreign
labor relative to Canadian labor.
Conclusion
Throughout North America, workfare schemes have been implemented despite
resistance from social activists, labor unions, and designated workfare partici-
pants. In the case of farmfare, however, employers added their opposition. The
offshore program already provides Ontario farmers with a flexible and unfree
labor force that is denied the opportunity to change employers or enter other
types of work and that confronts expulsion from the program and deportation
in the case of noncompliance. Offshore workers experience much greater pres-
sure to comply with the harsh employment conditions of harvesting work than
welfare claimants, who can resist these pressures because their Canadian citi-
zenship endows them with social and economic rights unavailable to foreign-
ers. Offshore workers are therefore a more attractive labor force to growers than
are farmfare workers. The differential treatment of offshore workers and wel-
fare recipients is legitimated through media representations that emphasize the
supposedly greater suitability of foreign workers vis-à-vis Canadian labor.
Although farmfare was never put into practice, it has provided a powerful
discursive tool in the ongoing ideological attack on the welfare state. Although
it eventually failed to threaten unemployed Canadians to be “sentenced” to farm
labor, it did succeed in further vilifying welfare participants. The image of wel-
fare recipients that emerged from the debate is one of unmotivated, unreliable,
and incapable freeloaders, who force growers to recruit from outside of Canada
to fill their labor needs. Although the Ontario government no longer seriously
discusses farmfare as a policy option, the arguments presented in the farmfare
debate continue to be deployed in occasional assaults on welfare recipients. For
example, a 2002 article in the Windsor Star continues to criticize the coexistence
of welfare and offshore programs:
Here in the greater Windsor area, with an 8.5 per cent unemployment rate
and more than 14,000 people listed as job seekers, at least 3,000 migrant
workers—the best paid in North America—are flown in annually from
Mexico and the Caribbean to do the field and greenhouse work Canadi-
ans consider demeaning.
Yeah. But who in their right mind would work in the hot sun for $8-
an-hour plus free accommodation and other benefits? Far better to sit home
and wait for a job that offers the big bucks. I can hear that argument now.
(G. Henderson 2002: A3)
The continued use of this argument illustrates the appeal of using foreign work-
ers to undermine the welfare and labor market rights of Canadians.
By proposing farmfare, the conservative Ontario government reaffirmed its
commitment to eroding the welfare system and increasing competition between
FARMFARE 197
workers at the lower end of the labor market. However, the farmfare proposal
was abandoned because another regulatory institution, the offshore program,
was already in place and better able to supply the labor force demanded by
Ontario’s horticulture industry. Migrant labor is easier to push into the bot-
tom rungs of the labor market than domestic labor, in spite of concerted efforts
on the part of government to assign domestic workers this role.
Citizenship has emerged as a defining criterion that differentiates between
Canadian workers, who would have been regulated by farmfare, and foreign work-
ers, who are managed by the offshore program. Advocates, churches, and orga-
nized labor speak out against the infringement of civil and labor rights of Canadian
welfare recipients, but they are less vocal regarding the rights of foreign workers.
This differentiation between foreign and Canadian workers reflects a wider inter-
national double standard applied to workers in the First and Third Worlds (Fröbel
et al., 1977). In the debate on farmfare, however, this double standard is not ap-
plied to workers who live and work in different nation-states, but to workers with
different nationalities within a single regional labor market. In this case, citizen-
ship, rather than country of production, is the criterion of distinction.
Both formal and substantive aspects of citizenship enforce the dual labor
standards for Canadian and foreign workers. Canadian citizens possess formal
rights guaranteeing minimum levels of social welfare (although workfare has
sought to erode these rights). Foreign offshore workers, on the other hand, do
not possess these rights, and the few privileges they gain while in Canada expire
with completion of the work period or dismissal from the program. The denial
of equal rights renders offshore workers more vulnerable and therefore more
suitable as seasonal labor in agriculture than Canadian workers. The substan-
tive dimension of citizenship assigns different labor market identities to Cana-
dian and foreign workers. Whereas foreign workers are represented as suitable
for seasonal agricultural labor, this type of work is portrayed as too dangerous,
physically strenuous, and demeaning for Canadians. Both formal and substan-
tive aspects of citizenship define workers’ roles in Ontario’s labor market.
Not all voices participating in the farmfare debate juxtapose farmfare and
offshore labor. As a ray of hope, the prominent labor activist Stan Raper (1999:
A21) wrote a letter to the editor of the Toronto Star in an attempt to refocus the
farmfare debate on the general threat of reduced labor standards in the agricul-
tural sector for all workers:
We [the United Farm Workers of America] plead to the MPPs [members

of provincial parliament] of Ontario to re-establish basic Human rights
for farm workers!
Without these basic rights re-established, it will continue to be very
difficult to find able bodied Canadians to consider agriculture as a career.
Raper implies that Canadian workers would be available for the jobs currently
performed by offshore workers if labor standards in agriculture were raised.
However, current citizenship and labor market policies in Canada and elsewhere
deny equal social and economic rights and privileges to foreign workers. As long
as foreign and domestic workers are treated unequally, international labor mi-
gration will continue to be a regulatory tool in the race to the bottom.
CONCLUSION: LABOR, MIGRATION, AND ACTION
Social, cultural, and legal practices associated with international migration are
integral elements of a wider neoliberal regime of accumulation. Neoliberalism,
however, is not a monolithic configuration. It evolved through a history and
geography of experimentation (Peck 2004) and exists in a variety of forms. Like-
wise, the manner in which international migration regulates labor markets does
not follow a prewritten, universal script but evolves in a place- and context-
specific manner. Formal citizenship, for example, is a powerful category to con-
trol migrant labor in many countries. In Canada, however, foreign immigrants
and citizens have similar labor market rights, and in Germany long-term for-
eign residents acquire postnational rights, which put newcomers on more or
less equal legal footing with nonmigrants. When citizenship fails to distinguish
between migrant and nonmigrant workers, then other mechanisms of distinc-
tion, including various forms of cultural and social capital, assume more promi-
nent roles. The case studies presented in this book show how these legal, social,
and cultural processes of distinguishing and controlling international migrants
regulate labor markets.
Cultural representation is a critical process in maintaining, enforcing, and
advancing this aspect of the neoliberal project. A particularly powerful discur-
sive strategy is the representation of migrant labor as essential for production
and economic well-being and, at the same time, the vilification of migrant
workers as outsiders, parasites, and threats to local and national communi-
ties. Although I limited my empirical investigation to a few case studies, similar
representations of migrant workers likely exist in Australia, throughout Eu-
rope, in the United States, and in other migrant-receiving industrialized coun-
tries. In recent years, cultural representations of migrants have been tied to the
so-called war on terrorism, which constructs international migrants as a par-
ticularly deadly population. Exploiting the fears of terror, restrictive and op-
pressive policies and practices toward international migrants have gone far
beyond genuine efforts to filter out traveling suicide assassins (Wright 2003).
The strategic incorporation of new narratives into discourses of migration and
the appropriation of relatively unrelated but highly visible events such as the
destruction of the World Trade Center in New York illustrate the systematic, if
not deliberate, nature of representation.
200 CONCLUSION: LABOR, MIGRATION, AND ACTION
International migrants must not be constructed as the initiators of labor

market segmentation or the executioners of the welfare state. Part of my moti-
vation for writing this book was to help dispel the myth that migrants them-
selves, rather than neoliberal labor and migration practices, are the origin of the
current pressure on labor markets in industrialized countries. Although inter-
national migrants actively participate in the migration and labor process, their
agency is constrained by the legal, social, and cultural circumstances in which
they are embedded.
Nevertheless, international migrant workers aren’t helpless victims of struc-
tural forces. Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri’s (2000: 253) observation that
labor mobility facilitates “the increased desire for liberation” has been echoed
by concrete actions by superexploited migrant workers. In Europe, undocu-
mented migrant workers are seizing tools and equipment and threaten to dis-
pose of them if employers refuse to pay the promised wages and meet basic
workplace standards (Schmidt 2004). In Canada, offshore workers are quitting
their jobs, going into hiding from immigration officials, and campaigning pub-
licly against their abuse and exploitation.1 The treatment of migrant and immi-
grant workers also pressures nonmigrant workers to become more flexible and
work longer hours for lower wages. By pursuing their collective interests, workers
can multiply their capacity to influence the manner in which migration regu-
lates labor markets. The question is how this capacity can be mobilized and how
the desire for liberation can be bundled into an effective force to reregulate labor
markets.
Several strategies are possible to confront existing processes of labor market
regulation. First, labor unions in migrant-receiving countries are increasingly
including migrant labor. They seek strength through solidarity with marginalized
migrant workers. Canadian unions are beginning to organize immigrants and
undocumented workers.2 Similar efforts to organize immigrant labor are going
on in the United States (J. Gordon 2005). This new attitude toward interna-
tional migrants is a direct response to eroding labor standards in light of exist-
ing neoliberal practices and policies toward international migration. Labor
unions tend to devote much of their energy and resources to the immediate need
of improving the abysmal labor circumstances of international migrants. In
regard to the offshore workers in Canada, for example, the union representing
farmworkers fights to protect Mexican and Caribbean migrant workers from
illegal abuse by Canadian employers, and it demands higher labor standards,
improved delivery of public services, and institutions to monitor and enforce
these demands.3 These efforts are certainly steps in the right direction toward
easing the worst injustices experienced by migrant workers. However, they do
not challenge the underlying mechanisms of labor subordination, including
citizenship, which remain intact. In other words, they alleviate the symptoms
but do not cure the disease. Protective labor legislation is not enough to elimi-
CONCLUSION: LABOR, MIGRATION, AND ACTION 201
nate the inequality between workers, tame divisive forces of distinction, and end
the manipulation of migration processes to regulate labor markets. More fun-
damental changes are necessary.
A second strategy is to target migration regulations and border politics. Elimi-
nating migration controls would level the playing field between workers in dif-
ferent countries. Equality between people, independent of their origin and
location, rests comfortably with theorists at different ends of the political spec-
trum. Liberal theorists inspired by John Rawls proclaim immigration restric-
tions are a “deep injustice of the modern world,” imagining “that in a century
or two people will look back upon our world with bafflement and shock [and]
ask themselves how we could have possibly failed to see the deep injustice of a
world so starkly divided between haves and have nots and why we felt so com-
placent about this division, so unwilling to do what we could to change it”
(Carens 2000: 637; see also Carens 1987; Cole 2000). Similarly, Marxist-inspired
scholar Teresa Hayter (2001: 150) projects, “Sooner or later, immigration con-
trols will be abandoned as unworkable, too expensive in suffering and money,
too incompatible with the ideals of freedom and justice, and impossible to
maintain against pressures of globalization.” Open borders would destroy an
important source of inequality.
A range of grassroots organizations have taken up the fight for more perme-
able borders. At the international scale, organizations and networks such as No
Borders and No One Is Illegal have become visible in the public sphere.4 At the
national scale, undocumented immigrants in France are organizing under the
label sans-papiers; in the United States, support groups such as the National
Network for Immigrants and Refugee Rights and Desis Rising Up and Moving
have formed; in Canada, Open the Borders and STATUS campaigns have been
gaining momentum (Wright 2003); and in Germany, Karawane is a vocal sup-
port network for refugees and immigrants. The scale-encompassing activism of
these organizations is instrumental for liberating migration flows from existing
controls.
The pursuit of open borders, however, is a double-edged sword. With in-
creased mobility of people comes increased competition between workers, thus
deflating the value of labor. The fact that conservative and neoliberal voices also
call for more open borders in order to “deregulate” the global labor market
should raise eyebrows. For example, in the United States, Alan Greenspan, chair-
man of the Federal Reserve, has argued for a relaxation of immigration policies
to stimulate economic growth. In Canada, the Canadian Council of Chief Ex-
ecutives calls for open borders between Canada and the United States. The Right
calls for more permeable borders as a strategy to lower labor standards, under-
mine the unity of workers, and demolish the welfare state—conditions that
supposedly impede economic prosperity. As the economist Milton Friedman
explains, “You cannot simultaneously have free migration and a welfare state”
(quoted in Vdare 2003). Activists and theorists on the Left are surely aware of these
attempts to subvert their agendas. The Left’s call for open borders, however, is
not made in the absence of a greater political vision. The idea of open borders
must be accompanied by an expansion of labor and welfare rights from the na-
tional to the global scale. In other words, the free mobility of workers will neither
create brutal labor competition nor annihilate the welfare state if labor is interna-
tionally unified and if workers can claim universal economic and social rights.
Any pondering of open borders will inevitably lead to a wider discussion on
citizenship and the nation-state. Both border controls and the nation-state func-
tion as ideological tools (Sharma 2001). A critical issue, I think, is that we do
not essentialize the nation-state. The nation-state is neither immortal nor fixed;
it is a political construction. Geographers and political scientists are well aware
of how unstable territorial political structures are and how quickly they can
emerge and disappear. To re-regulate labor markets in light of international
migration, new ideas for political, social, and economic organization are needed.
The challenges posed by this project can be illustrated by Jürgen Habermas
and Jacques Derrida’s (2003) recent public offensive envisioning a new role for
Europe as an emerging political configuration. Ironically, their model of a
“postnational constellation” is the “anti-utopia” in respect to open-border prac-
tices (Best 2003). The European Union has fortified its borders against unmanaged
immigration. As this book goes to press, leading European politicians are nego-
tiating the construction of migrant holding camps in Africa, making the Euro-
pean border even less permeable for unwanted migrants. The shift in the
management of political affairs from the national to the regional level, the
upscaling of political constellations, does not mean that restrictions of move-
ment of people will somehow disappear. Likewise, new conceptions of citizen-
ship would not automatically end citizenship discrimination. However, with
thoughtful political vision and will, a reconfiguration of the politics of migra-
tion and citizenship can reduce inequalities associated with citizenship.
An alternative model of citizenship and mobility is presented by Austro-
Marxist Otto Bauer (1924), who envisions a socialist society in which labor
migration is not controlled by nation-states or regulated through territorial
citizenship.5 Instead, national communities are geographically mobile within an
overarching transnational political order. Workers migrate freely and follow jobs
until an economic equilibrium of optimal spatial distribution of labor is achieved.
Most orthodox economists would agree that complete labor mobility increases
economic efficiency. Regarding the political organization of a world without
immigration restrictions, Richard Falk (1993: 39) proposes a form of global citi-
zenship that “expresses the quality of participation in a political community . . .
with no necessary territorial delimitation.” His proposal is echoed by other voices
calling for postnational and denationalized citizenship (Sassen 2002; Soysal 1994).
On a more utopian note, David Harvey (2000: 257–281) describes his “restless
CONCLUSION: LABOR, MIGRATION, AND ACTION 203
dream” of a postrevolution world in which hierarchical political order and con-

trolled state borders have been abolished and all people enjoy mobility across
regional and national borders—the only limitation to migration being an elec-
tronic bulletin board to manage the in- and outflow of migrants to prevent re-
gions from collapsing due to massive brain drain. In this dream, migration serves
not to provide maximum benefit to the receiving nation-state but to balance
the global distribution of work and production and increase global economic
efficiency.
A third strategy to confront unjust processes of labor market regulation is to
intervene in the discourses of migration and citizenship. In one of his last works,
Pierre Bourdieu (2002a) examines the “politics of depoliticization.” This work
is a call to arms against the deliberate naturalization of socially constructed
categories. Bourdieu examines the category of globalization, but the process
of depoliticization also applies to discourses of migration and citizenship. The
task of activism is to repoliticize the depoliticized: “Against this policy of
depoliticization, our aim must be to restore politics, that is, political thinking
and action, and to find the correct point of application for that action which
now lies beyond the borders of the nation state, as well as the appropriate means
which can no longer be reduced to the political and trade union struggles within
national states” (31, original emphasis).
In this passage, Bourdieu links repoliticization with the rescaling of politics.
Geographers are well aware that scale can be strategically deployed to manipulate
discursive meanings and initiate policy shifts (Harvey 2000; Herod 1991). The
scale Bourdieu favors to accomplish repoliticization, is—similar to Habermas and
Derrida—the European scale. Bourdieu advocates, in particular, for the estab-
lishment of a Europe-wide social movement. In my view, a shift to this regional
scale will create new rifts between regions and heighten competition between
people locked into regional political constellations. The shift to the regional level
would merely reproduce the existing geographical competition between work-
ers at a different scale. A global political movement is required to alleviate
geographical competition. In fact, a shift to the global scale may be the labor
movement’s only chance to outmaneuver capital’s own pursuit of globalization.
We therefore must refrain from retreating into national discourse or advancing
into a regional discourse and must instead write a story of globalization that
accommodates free mobility, equality, and social justice. For example, the cam-
paign for a universal right to mobility calls into question the legitimacy of the
differential treatment of migrants and nonmigrants. In addition, as the level of
representation is rescaled from the local and national to the global, the perceived
impacts of migration on labor markets also change. What appeared as an op-
portunity for migrant-receiving countries when they recruited a vulnerable
workforce of migrants turns into an economic loss for the global economy. In
my view, the politics of representation, including the affirmation of universal
rights and global perspectives on economic processes, are crucial for reregulating
labor market processes involving international migration.
Through education and activism, depoliticized representations must be
repoliticized. In this way, processes of cultural and social distinction can be re-
directed toward a new era of class politics at the global scale. Even habitual prac-
tices of distinction can be changed through pedagogic effort. Étienne Balibar
(2000), in his essay “What We Owe to the Sans-papiers,” presents an example
of an intervention in the construction of international immigrant workers in
France. Balibar portrays undocumented sans-papiers immigrants as role mod-
els who have repoliticized citizenship, creating a new form of citizenship that is
inclusive, rather than exclusive, and that “is not an institution or a statute but a
collective practice” (43). Following Balibar’s example, we must destabilize di-
visive categories. In particular, we must recognize that foreigners and citizens
and immigrants and nonmigrants are not enemies who are competing with each
other but are socially constructed categories that devalue humans for economic
gain. Our collective project is to reconstruct these categories as inclusive and
unifying ones.
I expect that the majority of the readership of this book benefits, like myself,
from currently existing citizenship policies, migration controls, and cultural
judgments that protect the privileges of workers and residents of industrialized
countries. We are the privileged. The dismantling of unjust labor market regu-
lations associated with migration and citizenship will erode these privileges. In
other words, international mobility and the equal treatment of international
migrants would help level the playing field between workers from rich and poor
countries. Recognizing the potential consequences for ourselves is an impor-
tant step in carrying forward the political agenda toward mobility, equality, and
social justice. Eroding our own privileges, however, does not automatically mean
that we will be worse off in the future. The current tendency toward income
polarization and labor market segmentation in the industrialized world should
sound alarm bells that our privileges are not permanently enshrined in our citi-
zenship and other forms of capital. We must resist the lure of a neoliberal uto-
pia and offer our own visions of an alternative future.
The contribution academics can make to this agenda is twofold. First, re-
searchers can help unveil existing social, cultural, and political mechanisms that
regulate labor markets, as I’ve attempted to do with this book. Second, academics
can intervene in dominating discourses by presenting alternative interpretations
of processes and events and by constructing utopian and pragmatic visions of
better futures.
APPENDIX
Vancouver Study: Immigrants in Vancouver
From South Asia

6,000
5,000
4,000
3,000
2,000
1,000
0
80
82
84
86
88
90
92
94
96
98
00
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
20
From Former Yugoslavia

1,400
1,200
1,000
800
600
400
200
0
80
82
84
86
88
90
92
94
96
98
00
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
19
20
FIGURE A.1. Annual landings in Vancouver metropolitan area

Note: Different scales on vertical axes.
206 APPENDIX
TABLE A. 1. Landings by Immigrant Class and Country of Last Permanent Residence

in Metropolitan Vancouver, 1980–2001
Skilled
Family Refugee Business Worker Other Total
Croatia 222 519 0 148 0 889

Yugoslavia
(Serbia, Montenegro) 1,380 779 14 1,751 6 3,930
Slovenia 14 12 0 26 0 52
Bosnia-Herzegovina 229 2,665 3 84 0 2,981
Macedonia 14 1 0 21 0 36
Albania 19 55 0 60 0 134
Total Former
Yugoslavia 1,878 4,031 17 2,090 6 8,022
Sri Lanka 931 550 4 392 17 1,894

India 48,866 1099 400 3,980 118 54,463
Pakistan 2,057 454 248 1,530 29 4,318
Bangladesh 288 150 29 552 2 1,021
Nepal 43 12 0 104 0 159
Fiji 8,469 571 147 712 44 9,943
Maldives 0 2 0 1 0 3
Total South Asia 60,654 2,838 828 7,271 210 71,801

APPENDIX 207
TABLE A.2. Occupation by Gender and Ethnic Origin, 1986–1996 Immigrants (in
percentages)
Former Yugoslavia
(Balkan) South Asia
Male Female Total Male Female Total
Senior management 6.8 4.1 2.0 1.1

Other management 11.4 6.8 7.3 14.9 11.5
Professional business & finance 1.6 5.3 3.6
Financial, secretarial, & admin. 6.7 2.7 6.9 1.3 3.8
Clerical occup. & clerical superv. 16.7 6.8 17.1 10.6 13.5
Natural & applied sciences 3.3 6.8 5.4 1.2 4.3 2.9
Prof. health, nurses, & superv. 10.0 4.1 5.7 1.0 3.1
Tech., assisting & relat. health 6.7 2.3 4.1 5.3 2.4
Social science, gov., & religion 2.3 1.4 2.8 2.3 2.6
Teachers, professors 1.6 1.7 1.6
Arts, culture, recreation, & sport 2.3 1.4 2.0 1.0 1.5
Wholes., insu., real estate, sales, 6.7 6.8 6.8 1.2 5.3 3.5
retail
Retail superv., salespersons/clerks 6.7 2.7 8.1 4.0 5.8
Chefs, cooks, food, & beverage 10.0 4.1 4.9 1.0 2.7
Protective services 2.3 1.4 1.0 .5
Child care, home support services 1.6 .7
Service superv., attend. in recr. 26.7 4.5 13.5 19.1 9.2 13.7
Contractor, trade/transp. superv. 4.5 2.7 .4 1.7 1.1
Construction trades 9.1 5.4 2.6 1.5
Other trades 13.6 8.1 1.6 6.9 4.6
Transp. and equipment operators 13.6 8.1 .4 6.6 3.8
Trades, constr., transp. laborers 2.3 1.4 .8 3.0 2.0
Occup. unique to primary ind. 4.5 2.7 1.6 1.7 1.6
Superv., mach. operat., & assembl. 6.7 6.8 6.8 6.5 9.9 8.4
Laborers in process., manuf. 2.0 3.0 2.6
Total 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0 100.0
N (weighted) 1,584 1,080 2,664 10,908 8,856 19,764
Notes: Occupational categories are based on 1991 Standard Occupational Classification

(soc91). Chi-square tests indicate that the distribution across occupations differs
statistically between male and female immigrants from the former Yugoslavia and South
Asia at a .01 significance level.
Source: Public Use Microdata File (Statistics Canada 2001).
208 APPENDIX
TABLE A. 3. Average Income of Employed Immigrants by Immigrant Group and

Year of Immigration, Greater Vancouver (CMA), 1995
Year of Immigrants
Immigration from Former South Asian
Canadian-born (Cohort) Yugoslavia Immigrants
Female
$23,462 1981–1985 $20,000 $17,354
1986–1990 $8,586 $11,908
1991–1996 $7,264 $10,858
Male
$34,188 1981–1985 $27,868 $20,536
1986–1990 $20,817 $23,668
1991–1996 $15,145 $15,092
Source: Public Use Microdata File (Statistics Canada 2001).
Survey Method
The statistical data were mostly taken from the Longitudinal Immigration Data
System (2003). This database consisted of individual landing records of all im-
migrants who entered Canada between 1980 and 2001. A landing record is the
information recorded by the immigration officer about an immigrant when he
or she enters Canada and becomes an immigrant. The database contains the
personal information and settlement intentions at the time of entry to Canada.
To examine the two groups under investigation in this study, I limited my sample
to immigrants who last resided in a country in South Asia (as well as Fiji) or the
former Yugoslavia and who declared that they would settle in one of the mu-
nicipalities of Greater Vancouver. The year 2001, which is the last year included
in the statistical analysis, is also the year in which data for the qualitative analy-
sis were collected. Unfortunately, these data do not permit tracking immigrants
after they settled in Canada. Therefore, I supplement these data with informa-
tion from the 1996 Public Use Microfile (PUMF).
The qualitative analysis consisted of personal interviews with local experts
on the immigrant communities of South Asians and former Yugoslavians in
Greater Vancouver. In particular, I interviewed administrators of nongovern-
mental organizations that provide settlement and employment services to the
two immigrant groups. I also interviewed employers who use ethnic and immi-
grant networks in the recruitment of their workforce. I chose to interview ser-
vice providers and employers because they possess in-depth knowledge of and
broader insights into labor market processes affecting immigrants and because
APPENDIX 209
of their active role in shaping the employment experiences of immigrants. I

obtained the sample from the Vancouver area’s Redbook of Services, the Direc-
tory of B.C. Multicultural, Anti-racism and Immigrant Service Organizations, and
ethnic business listings. The names of additional interviewees were obtained
through word of mouth. The sample of employers, in particular, was guided by
the interviews with staff of nongovernmental organizations, who referred me
to particular firms. I approached the selected institution or employer with a letter
or a phone call, asking for an interview with the staff person most qualified to
speak about the labor market situation and/or employment circumstances of
immigrants from South Asia and/or the former Yugoslavia.
In the summer of 2001, I conducted thirty-nine interviews. Most interviews
were with single respondents, but four interviews involved small groups of two
to four participants. The sample consisted of twenty interviews with respon-
dents who serve or employ members of the South Asian immigrant commu-
nity, fifteen interviews with respondents who deal with immigrants from the
former Yugoslavia, and four interviews with organizations that target both
groups. Twenty-one interviews were with administrators of nongovernmental
organizations, ten with service providers, and eight with employers (Table A.4).
Five interviewees were owners and/or human resource managers of companies
who employ South Asian immigrants as engineers, farmworkers, janitors, sales
clerks, taxi drivers, and warehouse workers. Three interviewed employers have
hired immigrants from the former Yugoslavia as skilled manufacturing work-
ers, warehouse labor, and drivers. The sample of interviewees also included the
owner of a training school for security guards, the author of a guidebook for new
immigrants, an immigration lawyer, and an ethnic radio show host. Many respon-
dents, including several employers, were themselves immigrants who came from
the two source regions and were thus able to contribute their own labor market
experiences. There was an almost even gender balance in the sample. Those re-
spondents who immigrated to Canada came with varying skills and educational
credentials and from both rural and urban places of origin. Some of the inter-
viewees were involved in other community functions and could be described as
community leaders.
The interview process followed a focused interviewing technique whereby
the interviewer retained a degree of flexibility to divert from the prepared in-
terview guide. Separate interview guides were used for administrators of non-
governmental organizations and employers. Most interviews were audiotaped;
only two interviewees chose not to be taped and notes were taken. The inter-
views were transcribed, coded, and systematically organized using a conventional
qualitative software package. I applied a variation of grounded theory analysis
to link data collection with analysis and to coordinate theory building with
empirical verification (Strauss 1987). According to this approach, the sample
of respondents was continuously adjusted to accommodate the information
210 APPENDIX
TABLE A. 4. Profile Interview of Institutional Participants in Vancouver
Type of Expertise of Institution

Name of Institution Institution and/or Respondent
Serving Immigrants from South Asia

1. A-1 Security Training Institute Training Employment
2. Arrival Survival Publisher Settlement
3. Euro Asia Terminals, Inc. Employer Employment
4. Farm in Surrey Employer Employment
5. Geotech Systems Inc. Employer Employment
6. Immigrant Services Society of BC NGO Settlement
7. Immigrant Services Society of BC NGO Employment
8. India Cultural Center of Canada Religious Community Relations
9. MOSAIC NGO Settlement
10. Nat. Indo-Canadian Council,
Vancouver NGO Community Relations
11. PICS (Annex) NGO Employment
12. PICS (Surrey) NGO Employment
13. Richmond Multicultural Concerns
Society NGO Settlement
14. SBM Services Employer Employment
15. South Asian Women’s Center NGO Community Relations
16. South Asian Women’s Center NGO Settlement,
Employment
17. South Vancouver Neighbourhood
House NGO Settlement
18. SUCCESS Training Institute NGO Employment
19. Surrey Delta Immigrant Services
Society NGO Employment
20. Vancouver Taxi Employer Employment
Serving Immigrants from the Former Yugoslavia

21. Umbrella Serbian Newspaper Media Community Relations
22. Adesa Vancouver Employer Employment,
Recruitment
23. Burnaby Multiculturalism Society NGO Settlement
24. C. A. Sas Immigration Law Centre Legal Community Relations
25. Canada Scaffolding Supply Co. Ltd. Employer Employment
26. CanWest Tanks & Ecological
Systems Ltd. Employer Employment
27. Co-op Radio Media Radio Show Host
APPENDIX 211
TABLE A.4 (continued)

28. Croatian Cultural Centre NGO Community Relations

29. Human Rights Commission NGO Settlement
30. Immigrant Services Society of BC NGO Settlement
31. McCrea & Associates Immig.
& Citiz. Law Legal Immigration Law
32. Public Legal Education Society NGO Settlement,
Employment
33. Serbian Community Leader Community Employment Counselor
34. Serbian Community Leader Community Community Relations
35. St-Michael’s Serbian Free Orthodox Religious Community Relations
Serving Both Groups

36. Committee for Racial Justice NGO Community Relations
37. Immigrant Services Society of BC NGO Employment Counselor
38. PICS (Vancouver) NGO Job Placement Officer
39. SUCCESS NGO Settlement
Source: Interview data.
provided in previous interviews. For example, if a series of interviews produced

unsatisfactory answers to a particular research question, additional interviews
were arranged with respondents who could potentially provide satisfactory
answers. The sample was expanded until these particular questions were an-
swered (i.e., until saturation). Likewise, interviews often raised new and unex-
pected issues, and further exploration of these issues required the expansion and/
or modification of the interview guide. The initial interview guides contained
questions arising from a review of the literature. Throughout the course of the
study, new questions were asked and old ones were modified. Questions were
dropped if satisfying answers were provided, or if these questions were rendered
irrelevant by proceeding interviews.
The interview survey was supplemented with information from other
sources, including the observation of service delivery to immigrants, excur-
sions to immigrant neighborhoods, and informal conversations with immi-
grants and employers. This flexible method of data collection and analysis
suited the exploratory character of the study. The study did not necessarily
produce statistically representative results. The quotes presented in the text
were selected to exemplify trends, patterns, and relationships that emerged
from the interviews.
212 APPENDIX
Berlin Study: Immigrants in Berlin

Survey Method
The Berlin survey involved personal interviews with government bureaucrats,
administrators of nongovernmental organizations, labor market counselors,
and employers. The motivation to interview this group of experts and labor
market participants was similar to that of the Vancouver survey. The sample
of interviewees was developed from reference catalogues that list institutions
providing services and information to foreigners and migrants (Auslän-
derbeauftragte des Senats von Berlin 1999, 2000, 2002a, 2002b, 2002c). Only
institutions that deal with labor market issues of migrants were asked to par-
ticipate in the survey. Additional institutions were identified through word
of mouth. As in the Vancouver survey, the institutions selected as potential
survey participants were sent a letter explaining the purpose of the survey or
were called directly to schedule an interview with a person who is qualified to
comment on labor market issues related to migration.
In the summer of 2002, I completed thirty interviews. Seven of these in-
terviews involved small groups of two to five respondents. Thirteen of the
interviewees were qualified to speak primarily on the labor market situation
of Spätaussiedler; three had experience mostly with immigrants from the
former Yugoslavia. The expertise of the remaining 14 interviewees was not
limited to but included these two groups (Table A.5). The interviewees in the
500,000
450,000
400,000
350,000
Other
300,000
250,000
200,000
Former Yugoslavia
150,000
100,000
Turkey
50,000
0
1985 1987 1989 1991 1993 1995 1997 1999 2001
FIGURE A.2. Foreign residents in Berlin, 1985–2002
Source: Based on Senatsverwaltung für Gesundheit, Soziales und Verbraucherschutz
(2004).
APPENDIX 213
TABLE A.5. Profile Interview of Institutional Participants in Berlin

Serving Spätaussiedler
1. Ankunft NGO Education, Employment
2. BOX 66 NGO Settlement, Employment,
Education
3. Bürgerinitiative: Ausländische Employer Employment, Training
MitbürgerInnen in Hohenschönhausen
4. Brückenschlag NGO Education
5. Club Dialog NGO Settlement, Employment
6. Dt. Staatsbürgerinnen Verband NGO Employment, Education
7. Deutsch-Russischer Austausch NGO Settlement, Integration
8. Jüdischer Kulturverein NGO Settlement, Community
Relations
9. Otto Benecke Stiftung NGO Employment, Education
10. Projekt ABC Integration NGO Employment, Training
11. Quartiers Argentur Marzahn NGO Settlement, Community
Nordwest Relations
12. Senatsverwaltung für Arbeit, Government Credentials
Soziales & Frauen
13. Senatsverwaltung für Schule, Government Education
Jugend & Sport
Serving Immigrants from the Former Yugoslavia

14. Caritasverband für Berlin, NGO Education, Settlement,
Migrationsdienst Skills
15. Deutsch-Serbischer Kulturverein NGO Settlement, Humanitarian
“Vuk Karad6ic-Gebrüder Grimm” Assistance
16. Südost Europa Kultur Zentrum NGO Education, Humanitarian
Assistance
Serving Multiple Groups

17. Amt der Bauftragten der Bundes- Government Settlement, Employment,
regierung für Ausländerfragen Education
18. Ausländerbeauftragte des Senates Government Settlement, Employment,
Berlin Education
19. Berliner Stadtreinigungsbetriebe Employer Employment, Training,
Certification
20. Bildungswerk Ost-West/Europa NGO Education, Skills Training
Sprachen Schule
214 APPENDIX
TABLE A.5 (continued)

21. Bundesanstalt für Arbeit, Government Employment, Training,

Arbeitsamt Berlin Süd Education
22. Bundesanstalt für Arbeit, Government Employment, Training,
Arbeitsamt Berlin Nord Education
23. Dt. Gewerkschaftsbund, Union Employment, Settlement
Ausländerberatungsstelle
24. Diakonisches Werk NGO Employment, Education,
Berlin-Brandenburg Settlement
25. Flüchtlingsrat NGO Settlement, Law
26. Industrie und NGO Employment,
Handelskammer Berlin Community Relations
27. Kumulus, Arbeit u. Bildung NGO Employment, Education,
Training
28. Kurdistan Kultur und Hilfsverein NGO Employment, Education
29. Landesamt für Gesundheit Government Employment, Education,
und Soziales Berlin Certification
30. Landesarbeitsamt Government Employment, Training,
Berlin-Brandenburg Education
Source: Interview data.
latter group often presented examples involving Turkish immigrants, who con-
stitute the largest group of foreigners in Berlin. Given the wealth of information
I received on Turkish immigrants, I present some data on their labor market situ-
ation in the text. Because the government plays an important role in matching
immigrants with jobs and in the credential recognition process, eight interviews
were conducted at government offices. The sample also included a union repre-
sentative and an activist at an organization supporting refugees. The two employers
included in the sample recruited immigrants as automotive mechanictrainees and
as temporary social workers in so-called job-creation measures (Arbeitsbeschaf-
fungsmaßnahme) and structural adjustment measures (Strukturanpassungs-
maßnahme). As in the Vancouver sample, several of the interviewees were
immigrants themselves. The gender of respondents was roughly balanced.
An interviewing technique and method of analysis similar to that used in the
Vancouver study was applied in the Berlin study. At the request of one respon-
dent, notes were taken during the interview; all other interviews were taped and
transcribed. All interviews were conducted in German. In my translation of the
APPENDIX 215
quotations into English, I attempted to uphold the meanings conveyed by the

respondents in light of the context in which the comments were made.
As in the Vancouver study, semistructured interviewing techniques and tem-
porally overlapping data collection and analysis facilitated exploratory research.
This format allowed the researcher to adjust the sample of respondents, to
modify the interview guide, and to accommodate respondents’ experiences and
expertise. The initial interview guide contained questions developed from the
literature as well as from the results of the Vancouver study. Of particular ini-
tial interest was whether some of the processes that operate in Vancouver also
apply in Berlin. Later in the research, I focused on processes that did not oper-
ate in Vancouver or that operated in Vancouver in a different manner. Thus,
the findings of the Berlin study balance those of the Vancouver study. The two
studies complement each other, revealing different scenarios of how migration
regulates labor markets. They should not be seen as a direct comparison of the
same processes in two different contexts.
Rural Ontario Study

Discourse analysis can involve a variety of techniques (S. Taylor 2001). News-
paper content analysis, in particular, often focuses on sensational key terms,
cultural labels, and linguistic codes to reveal the authors’ attitudes toward people
and events (Hier and Greenberg 2002). In contrast, I concentrate mostly on the
content and narratives presented in newspaper stories to extract more complex
images and often taken-for-granted ideas about offshore farmworkers. My ob-
jective was not to quantify the use of particular words or to unveil their hidden
meanings, but to unveil the political and ideological underpinnings of the dis-
course of offshore labor circulating through the newsprint media and reflected
in media representations (Fairclough 1992; Fowler 1991). Therefore, the analysis
focuses on the arguments and ideas expressed in the newspaper articles.
The voices reflected in this discourse are those of newspaper reporters and
writers. Farmers, residents, and offshore workers who are occasionally quoted
in newspaper articles were carefully selected as interviewees, and it can be as-
sumed that reporters cautiously screened the interviews for quotations that
convey particular viewpoints (Mahtani 2001). My interest focuses on how these
powerful voices of the newsprint media represent offshore labor. Other research-
ers have presented accounts of the migrant workers’ own experiences conveyed
through the migrant’s own voices (e.g., Basok 2002); newspaper articles, how-
ever, are better suited to uncover the public attitudes toward the offshore pro-
gram and offshore workers.
But even the press rarely speaks with a single voice. Rather, discourses in the
newsprint media are complex and multidimensional (Crespi 1997; S. Taylor
2001). Accordingly, my analysis revealed no single image of foreign farmworkers
216 APPENDIX
or the offshore program. Rather, authors and newspapers present varying per-
spectives in a dynamic debate. I attempt to reveal these perspectives by presenting
multiple viewpoints. For example, I associated different narratives with differ-
ent spatial scales of representation. Critics may ask why, among these various
narratives, I do not discuss gendered representations in greater detail. I do not
feel that I have the empirical evidence that warrants an in-depth discussion of
this topic. Only one article (Welch 2000g) identified in the search mentions
female workers employed in a cannery. Despite the lack of material to discuss
gender as a separate topic, I recognize that discourses of masculinity are im-
portant in the construction of the image of the migrant worker.
The sample frame for the survey was defined by Ontario daily newspapers
that are electronically accessible through Web-based search engines Newsscan,
EBSCO, Elibrary, CBCA, Canadian, and Newsdisc. The sample covers the five-
year period from January 1, 1997, to May 6, 2002. For some newspapers, the
electronic archives do not reach back as far as January 1997. In these cases, only
those issues that were electronically accessible were surveyed. Articles, editori-
als, letters to the editor, and book reviews were selected based on a search of the
keywords labour(er/s), worker(s), farm, migrant(s), seasonal, temporary, fruit
pick(ing/er/s), and transient. After a cursory examination of the articles, only
those dealing with foreign farmworkers or directly related issues were retained
in the sample. If an article made reference to previous articles, those previous
articles were included in the sample if they contained information on issues
relevant to the analysis. In addition, I included a special series about migrant
farmworkers published in 1996 in the Simcoe Reformer. The final sample con-
sisted of 181 newspaper articles. Table A.6 depicts the sample profile.
APPENDIX 217
TABLE A.6. Newspapers Included for Analysis
Newspaper Years Searched Number of Articles
Beacon-Herald (Stratford) Nov. 2001–2002 0

Brantford Expositor 2002–1998 13
Brockville Recorder and Times 2000–2002 1
Cambridge Reporter 1997–2002 0
Chatham Daily News 1998–2002 12
Cornwall Standard Freeholder 1998–2002 0
Daily Miner and News (Kenora) Nov. 2001–2002 0
Daily Observer (Pembroke) May 2000–2002 0
Globe and Mail 1997–2002 1
Guelph Mercury 1997–2002 7
Hamilton Spectator 1997–2002 23
Kingston Whig-Standard 1998–2002 3
Kitchener-Waterloo Record 1997–2002 3
Lindsay Daily Post May 2000–2002 0
London Free Press 1998–2002 9
National Post 1997–2002 2
Niagara Falls Review 1998–2002 7
North Bay Nugget 1998–2002 2
Ottawa Citizen 1999/01–2002 3
Ottawa Sun 1999–2002 5
Owen Sound Sun Times 1998–2002 2
Packet and Times (Orillia) May 2000–2002 1
Port Hope Evening Guide 1998–2002 1
St. Catharines Standard 1998–2002 20
Sarnia Observer 1998–2002 1
Sault Star 1998–2002 1
Simcoe Reformer Dec. 1996 13
Sudbury Star 1998–2002 1
Times-Journal (St. Thomas) July 2000–2002 0
Timmins Daily Press 1998–2002 1
Toronto Star 1997–2002 12
Toronto Sun 1999–2002 1
Welland Tribune 1999–2002 3
Windsor Star 1999–2002 33
NOTES
Introduction
1. Two decades ago, Robin Cohen (1987: 147) alluded to the issue that the differential
mobility of capital and labor are important for the regulation of economies: “While capital
has an expanding global horizon, workers have been corralled into narrower pens, their
physical and psychological frontiers being policed by the nation state.” This observation is
still valid today.
2. I am not suggesting that these fundamental aspects of human behavior are necessar-
ily biological or genetic. They can also be historically, socially, and culturally constituted.
3. The manuscript for this book was submitted in the final weeks of 2004, at a time when
Germany’s immigration law was not yet in effect.
Part I Introduction
1. Peck (1996: 24–40) speaks of incorporating, allocating, controlling, and reproducing

labor.
Chapter 1
1. Although the formal recruitment of guest workers ended, immigrants continued to

arrive through other formal and informal channels. These guest worker programs are an ex-
ample of the relative independence of migration streams from cyclical labor demand. After
recruitment formally ended, immigration continued to impact the labor markets of these
countries.
2. Sharma (2001) reports on the total number of visa workers permitted entry into
Canada under the Non-Immigration Employment Authorization Program. From 1973 to
1993, the numbers rose from 69,901 to 153,988 annually. A portion of these workers are
recruited specifically for the agricultural sector (Basok 2002). The annual entry of tempo-
rary visa migrants usually outnumbers the entry of permanent immigrants.
3. The name of the program reflects its purpose. The Spanish word brazo means “arm,”
reflecting the manual nature of the work performed by the recruits. In 1959, 439,000 for-
eign workers participated in the program (Briggs 2004).
4. Some nationalist trade unions in Europe and North America, however, continue to
distinguish between migrant and nonmigrant workers and rally against immigration and
the employment of migrant labor in an effort to protect their own privileges. Marx and Engels
220 NOTES TO PAGES 25–33
([1848] 1969) alluded long ago to the detrimental consequences of international division
and therefore called for international unity of organized labor. The exclusion of foreign and
immigrant workers from unions and from the contracts unions negotiate with employers
has enabled the exploitation of foreign workers in the first place.
5. A scene in the documentary film El Contrato (National Film Board of Canada 2002)
shows Mexican Consulate staff visiting the farming community of Leamington to listen to
reports by Mexican offshore workers about cases of labor abuse. However, the Consulate
staff cut short this meeting to attend another meeting with city officials to discuss potential
investments of Leamington growers in agribusiness in Mexico. To Consulate staff, these
foreign investments in Mexico apparently have priority over protecting Mexican offshore
labor. In this video, the labor representative Stan Raper says, “The consulate is there to pro-
tect the grower. If there is a problem they [offshore workers] are usually sent on the next
plane back.”
6. Likewise, the governments of receiving countries participate in the construction of
positive or negative images of migrants as a mechanism to guide migration flows and shape
the labor market situation of migrants. The politics of representation are important pro-
cesses to which I return later in this chapter.
7. This term was used by Arnoldo Garcia, senior program associate at the California-
based National Network for Immigrant and Refugee Rights, in his keynote address to the
Status Campaign Conference in Toronto, November 2, 2004.
8. Temporary restrictions were laid on the citizens of the eight central and eastern Eu-
ropean countries (Czech Republic, Estonia, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Slovak
Republic, Slovenia) that joined the European Union in 2004. Citizens of these countries
have temporarily only limited access to the labor market of the other European Union
countries. Under the so-called 2+3+2 model, these restrictions can be renewed in 2006
and 2009 but must be removed by 2011. The temporary restrictions do not apply to the
citizens of Malta and Cyprus, which also joined the EU in 2004.
9. Chapter 6 elaborates on the complex web of legal categories that apply to foreign
workers in Germany.
10. Despite our scale-particular representations, many social and economic processes
occur at multiple scales simultaneously. For example, although it is true that many immi-
grant communities are locally embedded, these same communities often also maintain strong
social networks and economic ties at national and transnational scales (e.g., Ong 1999;
M. P. Smith 2001).
11. For more elaborate discussions on the topic of scale and ideology, see Delaney and
Leiter (1997), Herod and Wright (2002), and Marston (2000).
12. The reconstructed, positive meaning of this type of work is geographically contin-
gent. It applies in the foreign country of employment but not in the Philippines, where
domestic work continues to be considered demeaning and associated with low social status
(Barber 2000).
13. Once these workers leave the Philippines, they often find that their identities switch
from being heroes and heroines to being servants and subordinate labor. Racist and patriarchic
representations in the destination countries tend to depict Filipino workers as obedient and
submissive labor willing to work long hours for low wages and lenient labor standards (Bakan
and Stasiulis 1995; Barber 2000; Pratt 1997).
NOTES TO PAGES 35–48 221
Chapter 2
1. Even posthumously, Bourdieu’s record of publications continues to grow. See, for

example, his contribution to the journal Studies in Political Economy (Bourdieu 2002a) or
his chapter in the edited book Habitus: Sense of Place (Bourdieu 2002b).
2. For example, in addition to economic, social, and cultural capital, he also used sym-
bolic capital (Bourdieu 1977, 1998) as well as political, military, scientific, and technologi-
cal “species” of capital (Bourdieu 2002a: 31–32).
3. Throsby (1999) tries to appropriate other forms of capital, including embodied, ob-
jectified, and institutionalized cultural capital, to orthodox economic analysis. In his at-
tempt to measure cultural capital, he essentializes culture and conceptualizes cultural capital
as an exogenous factor to economic production. The fallacy in this approach is that cultural
capital is more than just another human capital parameter; it is an underlying mechanism
that shapes conventions of the labor market and that simultaneously penetrates the social
and economic sides of the labor market. Other researchers have also attempted to apply
Bourdieu’s ideas to the labor market situation of immigrants but have employed concep-
tual models and empirical methods with similar shortcomings (e.g., Nee and Sanders 2001).
4. Prominent examples of the importance of family connections in politics are the Bush
and Kennedy empires in the United States and the Canadian premiership of Paul Martin,
whose father was also a powerful politician on the national stage. Countless other contem-
porary examples could be cited in which family background shapes careers in politics and
business through the bequest of economic, social, and cultural capital.
5. For literature reviews on the topic of social capital, see Lin et al. (2001), Portes (1998),
and Wall et al. (1998).
6. Numerous case studies focus on immigrant employment and entrepreneurship in niche
occupations and industrial branches in cities throughout North America and Europe. Ex-
amples include Kaplan (1997), Kapphan (1997), Light et al. (1999), Mattingly (1999), Portes
and Bach (1985), Waldinger (1986, 1996), and Walton-Roberts and Hiebert (1997).
7. Although objectified cultural capital is also an important subcategory of cultural capital,
I found very little empirical evidence that it affects the labor market situation of immigrants.
Given the relative insignificance of this category for the following empirical chapters, I omit
it in this discussion.
8. Although in academic debate the term “institution” often encompasses a range of social
configurations, including the family, gender roles, and community, institutionalized cul-
tural capital interprets the term in a narrower sense of formal entities of authority.
9. Bourdieu would probably not have gone as far as Butler in asserting that the body is a
purely social construct. Nevertheless, he saw the body as a physical project that is “in a con-
stant process of becoming” (Shilling 1993: 148). Both Bourdieu and Butler share the per-
spective that meanings of the body are culturally produced.
10. The rare occasions on which the women’s traditional attire was desired by the Ger-
man public revealed the marginal status of the women and their attire and served only to
further differentiate them from German society. Friedmann (2002: 308) describes such a
situation, which happened to female immigrants from Kabyle who settled in Frankfurt:
One day, a young woman will appear on their doorstep, accompanied by an interpreter.
She has come from the city’s Office of Multicultural Affairs to invite the Kabyle women
to a welcome festival for newcomers to be held at the Römer, the city’s main square.
Would they please come dressed in their “native costume” and perhaps perform some
village dances for the audience in the interest of furthering cultural understanding.
This would be a popular event, drawing thousands to the festivities. The Kabyle women
scarcely knew how to reply to this invitation which, though spoken by the skilled in-
terpreter in mellifluous Arabic, asked them to dance before the eyes of thousands of
strangers. And perhaps they thought to themselves: “Woman has but two dwellings:
the house and the tomb.”
11. Other commentators have used different categories that roughly match the formal-
substantive dualism used here. For example, Bloemraad (2000) distinguishes between legal
status and rights (i.e., formal), and participation and identity (i.e., substantive) aspects of
citizenship.
12. It is usually the husband of the family who manages the family business and com-
mutes across the Pacific Ocean.
13. Wall et al. (1998: 314) make a brief reference to an association between citizenship
and social capital but do not elaborate any further on this association. Castles and Davidson
(2000) link citizenship to Putnam’s (1993, 2000) version of social capital but not to Bourdieu’s
ideas of social reproduction.
14. Some commentators associate substantive forms of citizenship with loyalty to a
community (Bloemraad 2000: 20–25). This interpretation of citizenship probably relates
more to Bourdieu’s idea of social capital.
15. Leading intellectuals, including Bourdieu (2002a) and Habermas and Derrida (2003),
have recently endorsed this scale, although Best (2003) pointed out that a new European
citizenship will be just as exclusionary as the earlier national citizenships absorbed by it.
Part II Introduction
1. Although more current figures are available from Citizenship and Immigrants Canada’s
Web site (www.cic.gc.ca), I present numbers for 2001 because they match the year in which
the empirical study was undertaken. The figures presented here were published by Citizen-
ship and Immigration Canada (2004) in its online publication Facts and Figures 2001. It is
possible that the Ministry publishes slightly revised data elsewhere.
2. A relatively small number (1,274) of economic-class immigrants fell under the pro-
vincial nominee program, which enables provinces to recommend their own selection of
immigrants to the federal government.
3. The documentary video Who Gets In? (National Film Board of Canada 1989) illumi-
nates that humanitarian need has not been the only selection criterion for refugees in Canada.
Additional criteria include skills, career ambition, and cultural attributes, which are assessed
on the basis of cultural judgments by Canadian immigration authorities. I also interviewed
a refugee who entered Canada several years ago from war-torn Croatia, who explained that
her young age, skills, and personal motivation helped her qualify as refugee. Her father, who
suffered from the same political circumstances, was too old to qualify for refugee status in
Canada. In the interview, she said, “In Belgrade, we were all refugees [as Serbians who fled
Bosnia] . . . we escaped from the war. And [the Canadian refugee program] would accept
young people, educated, English speaking, from Bosnia. . . . Some young families, but not
like my father. I wanted to bring him, I couldn’t. Because he was 63, they told me you have
to go and when you find a job, then you can bring him but they didn’t want to sponsor him,
even though he was a refugee, and in the same situation like I was.”
4. This number includes an additional 2,828 immigrants, or 1.1 percent of all newcom-
ers who entered Canada in 2001, who were neither refugees nor family- or economic-class
immigrants. They were classified as “other,” indicating that they entered Canada as live-in
caregivers, postdetermination refugee claimants, deferred removal orders, or retirees.
5. Formally, landed immigrants and citizens have almost equal access to the labor mar-
ket. Although a recent Supreme Court of Canada ruling gave Canadian citizens preference
over landed immigrants in public service employment (MacCharles 2002), in most cases
employment discrimination against immigrants is prohibited.
6. I could have chosen other immigrant groups, but there were logistical advantages to
studying these two. In addition, there was lack of local research on immigrants from the
former Yugoslavia.
7. An additional three individuals came from the Maldives.
8. These percentages were calculated from the 1996 Public Use Microdata File (Statistics
Canada 2001). This data set does not explicitly identify immigrants from the former Yugosla-
via as a separate category. The closest match to “former Yugoslavia” is the category “Balkan.”
Although there is a discrepancy between the geographical areas covered by the two categories,
these categories define widely overlapping populations. For the purpose of consistency, I
continue to use the label “former Yugoslavia” instead of “Balkan.” I conducted Chi-square
tests to examine whether the distribution across categories of labor force activity differs for
immigrants from the former Yugoslavia and South Asia. The tests indicated that such dif-
ferences exist for both men and women at a .01 significance level.
9. Hiebert (1999) calculated dissimilarity indices for immigrant groups across occupations
in Vancouver. The dissimilarity index describes how a particular group is distributed across
a spectrum of occupations relative to other origin groups. Hiebert’s study revealed an
overrepresentation of recent South Asian women in farming and horticulture (with a dis-
similarity index of 7.2). South Asian men are generally overrepresented in low-status occu-
pations. They are more likely than nonimmigrants to work as janitors, wood machinists,
processing workers, and taxi operators (with dissimilarity indices ranging from 2.6 to 6.1).
10. Although Vancouver has attracted a disproportionately large share of business-class
immigrants over the past two decades (Ley 1999; Woo 1997), the ethnic economy is not
driven by these entrepreneurs. In fact, business-class immigrant entrepreneurs are not as
successful in Vancouver as anticipated by Canadian immigration authorities or the immi-
grants themselves (Ley 1999, 2003). In addition, relatively few business-class immigrants
come from South Asia (Appendix, Table A.1).
11. A more detailed breakdown of immigrant cohorts revealed that the only groups
that have incomes above the Canadian average are male immigrants from the former
Yugoslavia who immigrated to Canada before 1961; female immigrants from the former
Yugoslavia who immigrated between 1961 and 1970; and immigrants from South Asia who
immigrated between 1961 and 1970. These cohorts are not the main target group of this
study.
12. Rather than treating the secondary labor market as a homogeneous category, I in-
vestigate the segmentation of immigrant labor into particular occupations. With this focus,
I am able to examine immigrant workers in the context of specific employment tasks, work-
place norms, and business conventions. As I indicated in part I, this is a more suitable ap-
proach to exploring social and cultural processes of segmentation than trying to uncover
labor market processes that lead to low wages in general, independent of occupation. Previ-
ous research has demonstrated that the labor market circumstances of immigrants tend to
be framed by the opportunities that exist in particular niche occupations and industries (e.g.
Waldinger 1986, 1996).
Chapter 3
1. The Toronto Star reported on the culture shock experienced by Chinese visa students
who study in Toronto. The article implied that the severity of culture shock produces dra-
matic emotional imbalances that can lead to isolation and psychological instability that
culminate in extreme, violent behavior (Grewal 2004).
2. Unless, of course, immigrants move to a different location to find suitable employ-
ment. Although for some immigrants to Canada migration has been a stepwise process (lead-
ing, for example, through Fiji, Great Britain, or the Middle East), the mobility of workers
and their families tends to be constrained. Capital investment is usually easier to move, al-
though the management of investments and business interests abroad can also be associ-
ated with considerable personal hardship for the immigrant family, as the astronaut
phenomenon attests to.
3. Bourdieu (1977: 89–95) speaks about the “sexual division of labour” as an element of
habitus. Other research has shown that gender roles in the labor market vary among ethnic
groups and geographical regions (e.g., Auster 1996). However, South Asia and Canada de-
fine only very rough and limited geographical proxies for gender norms and labor market
conventions. On a more detailed geographical scale, West and Pilgrim (1995) distinguish
among Bangladeshi, Pakistani, Sikh, and Gujarati women and consider multiple dimensions,
including gendered ideology, family size, and levels of education. The interview excerpts that
I present should neither be generalized nor uniformly applied to all immigrants from South
Asia.
4. To test for the statistical significance of the differences in the tables, I conducted a
series of Chi-square goodness-of-fit tests comparing the observed and expected frequencies
between immigrants from the former Yugoslavia and South Asia in each of five immigrant
classes. These tests revealed that among the five classes, the relative distribution across the
educational and intention-to-work categories differs between the two origin groups at a .01
significance level.
5. Although de-skilling eventually pushes many skilled immigrants into the secondary
labor market, as I discuss in chapter 5.
6. These waves of immigration are consistent with the information presented in Table
A.1 (in the Appendix), revealing disproportionate numbers in the skilled worker class from
Yugoslavia (Serbia and Montenegro) and refugees from Bosnia-Herzegovina and Croatia.
7. An epistemological issue, related to the research methodology, is the difficulty in
discerning unsubstantiated or even stereotypical images held by the survey respondents
from accurate representations of immigrants’ attitudes, aspirations, and labor market pro-
cesses. This problem is a general one that accompanied the entire research process. It also
raises important questions about the positionality of the respondents themselves: Do

interviewees attribute labor market success to cultural characteristics that they ascribe to
themselves? Most respondents would probably describe themselves as skilled, educated,
cosmopolitan, and open-minded, characteristics that are typically not attributed to fam-
ily-class immigrants or refugees. I attempted to uncover inaccuracies and biases among
interview respondents by probing during the interview process and cross-referencing the
statements of individual respondents with those of other interviewees and with statistical
data, if the latter were available.
8. Sarre et al. (1989) have conceptualized processes of immigrant integration in the con-
text of structure-agency duality. Kalra (2000) applied the structure-agency model to the
employment situation of immigrants and found that labor market and immigration circum-
stances provide the structural context within which immigrants negotiate their positions in
the labor market. Habitus presents a different perspective on similar processes.
9. I limited this analysis of Longitudinal Immigration Data System and Public Use
Microdata File (PUMF) data to immigrants who arrived between 1986 and 1996. In both
data sets, the matching samples could be identified. The reason for this limitation was that
I used the 1996 PUMF, which set the upper boundary of 1996. I also wanted to examine the
most recent immigrant cohort. The ten-year period provided a sample size large enough for
a meaningful analysis.
10. In a U.S. context, Waldinger (1996: 281) speaks of the “golf-course advantage” as a
convention of networking.
11. In cross-referencing the ethnic concentrations of this industry, I was surprised that
only 0.4 percent of all male South Asian immigrants worked as transportation and equipment
operators (Appendix, Table A.2), which includes taxi driving. Several explanations for this low
number can be provided: first, the PUMF is based on 1996 data, whereas the interviews were
recorded in 2001. Perhaps the taxi driver phenomenon emerged only in the past five years;
second, the taxi driver business is an occupation that is highly visible to the general public and
therefore receives a disproportionate share of public and media attention; third, and most likely,
the taxi industry is relatively small compared to the total South Asian immigrant population,
enabling a relatively small share of that population to dominate the industry.
12. A U.S.-based report shows that 20 percent of taxi/limo drivers in New York are South
Asian immigrants from Bangladesh, India, and Pakistan. Their hourly earnings compare to
those of janitors (Schaller Consulting 2004). Kalra (2000: 179–195) describes the taxi driver
phenomenon in a British context.
13. The 1996 PUMF statistics displayed in Table A.2 (Appendix) show that male immi-
grants from the Balkans indeed concentrate in the occupational category (service supervi-
sors, attendants in recreation) that includes building manager.
Chapter 4
1. I deliberately focus on physical attributes other than skin color because processes of
distinction and occupational segmentation of immigrants are more variable than conven-
tional perspectives on racial discrimination suggest.
2. The interview respondents addressed the issue of corporeal representations and their
effects on the labor market mainly in the context of South Asian immigrants. It was hardly
perceived as an issue in relation to immigrants from the former Yugoslavia. I assume that,
in Vancouver, non-European immigrants are more likely to be negatively affected by the
cultural judgment of their bodies than immigrants from Europe, including the former
Yugoslavia.
3. The sari is a garment worn daily by women, consisting of 5.5 meters of continuous
fabric wrapped round the body.
4. Salwaar kameez, also known as a Punjabi suit, is a popular garment consisting of a
tunic-style jacket or shirt worn over loosely fitted trousers.
5. The valorization of the turban in some social and economic contexts is paralleled by
international fashion trends that affirm the Sikh headwear (Jackson 2002: 13).
6. Embodied characteristics become even more important for newcomers when other
indicators of occupational competence are systematically devalued or even nullified. For
example, as I discuss in the next chapter, many immigrants suffer from nonrecognition of
their foreign education and credentials. Without these qualifications, employers and coun-
selors may rely increasingly on the judgment of bodily markers to evaluate an applicant’s
suitability for a job.
Chapter 5
1. The theme of the conference was “Making the Mosaic Work.” It took place on Janu-
ary 30 in Toronto and was organized by the University of Toronto Faculty of Law.
2. Analysis of historical documents from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centu-
ries—a period during which many professions in Canada were closed through legislation—
reveals clearly that limiting competition was a major motivation for excluding foreigners
from practicing in Canada (Girard 2005).
3. They also change quickly over time. In recent years, the issue of nonrecognition of
foreign credentials has become an important topic in Canadian public debate. Professional
associations and the government are responding to increasing public pressure by making
assessment procedures more accessible to immigrants. For example, the Canadian gov-
ernment announced in April 2004 that it will make almost $1 million available to help
the Internationally Trained Professionals Network in British Columbia and the Policy
Roundtable Accessing Professions and Trades in Ontario to streamline the process of cre-
dential recognition (Toronto Star 2004b). In addition, the British Columbia government
announced in a news release in February 2005 that it will spend $14.5 million for the B.C.
Skills Connect for Immigrants program “to meet the challenges of workplace integration
of immigrants” (Province of British Columbia 2005). A major purpose of the program is
to prevent the de-skilling of foreign-trained immigrants. According to British Columbia
Premier Gordon Campbell: “If immigrants moved to B.C. to work in a field where there
is a shortage—whether it’s in engineering or construction trades or nursing or pharmacy—
then we should speed up the process of getting their training and credentials recognized
in B.C.” The information and figures presented here may quickly become outdated as li-
censing bodies respond to public debate and available programs, and streamline creden-
tial assessment procedures.
4. Grade 12 education is equivalent to a secondary educational degree. Grade 10 falls
two years short of a degree.
5. In light of public criticism about this issue, Citizenship and Immigration Canada, the
federal ministry responsible for immigration, now informs potential immigrants on its Web
site (www.cic.gc.ca) about the process of foreign credential recognition. However, a system
that would enable immigrants to get accreditation before they come to Canada is not in sight.
6. Such a position assumes that the workplace is a site of socialization and for commu-
nicating local norms and conventions to immigrants. This position resonates with
neoconservative ideology (e.g., Murray 1984), which suggests that people with supposedly
dysfunctional behavioral patterns can learn proper social behavior as well as responsibility,
punctuality, and reliability through entrance in the labor market. This ideology is highly
problematic because it blames the victims of processes of cultural and economic exclusion.
7. At the same conference mentioned at the beginning of the chapter, a disgruntled skilled
immigrant who was invited to speak used the following comparisons to express her outrage
about the need for Canadian work experience to enter the Canadian labor market: “One
does not deny parents the right to have children because they have no experience. . . . One
does not deny a baby the right to life because it has no experience in life.”
Part III Introduction
1. Eventually, a wall, accompanied by a shoot-to-kill order, separated East and West

Germany. The most infamous section was the Berlin Wall, erected in 1961, which made West
Berlin an island within East German territory.
2. The federal government signed agreements with Italy (1955), Spain and Greece (1960),
Turkey (1961), Morocco (1963), Portugal (1964), Tunisia (1965), and the former Yugosla-
via (1968).
3. Alas, Mr. Rodrigues would suffer a bitter irony. While working in Germany, he ex-
perienced a severe work accident and returned to Portugal. He lost his job, entitlement to
sick leave, and health benefits. After his savings were depleted, he redeemed his retirement
insurance, which left him and his wife without old age insurance. After his death, his widow
was forced to live on Portuguese social security and reportedly cursed the day her hus-
band arrived in Germany (Almeida [1985] 2003). Mr. Rodrigues’s euphoric reception as
a worker in Germany and the lack of support during a period of personal hardship both
illustrate the role of foreigners and immigrants in Germany as abstract labor, rather than
human beings.
4. Unlike the U.S. green card, the German green card is temporarily restricted and not
intended as a preliminary step toward acquiring citizenship.
5. The mood in Germany about this program was not all supportive, however. The most
infamous incident occurred in 2000, when the prominent politician of the conservative
Christian Democratic Party, Jürgen Rüttgers, coined the expression “Kinder statt Inder”
(Children instead of East Indians), in an apparent attempt to advocate for the IT training of
domestic youth instead of attracting skilled immigrants.
6. Recall that de-skilling in Canada is a postmigration effect, which is not immediately
apparent to many skilled immigrants who confront a choice between immigrating to Canada
or to Germany.
7. In my presentation of my empirical results, I use the term “immigrant” to identify
people who settle on a more or less permanent basis in Germany. Included in my use of the
term are former guest workers and their families and the groups under investigation in the
case study.
8. In 2002, when the study took place, Germany did not have an immigration law. At
that time, Germany only had a policy for foreign nationals (Ausländerpolitik).
9. The following discussion does not present an inclusive list of all categories. Rather, I
summarize the most relevant types of immigration in the context of the study. I excluded,
for example, temporary immigrants and seasonal workers from this discussion.
10. With the expansion of the European Union in 2004 the scale and structure of EU
internal migration will likely change. However, data on these changes were not available at
the time this information was compiled. For a discussion of potential migration scenarios,
see Beauftragte der Bundesregierung für Migration, Flüchtlinge und Integration (2004).
11. Germany allows dual citizenship only in exceptional circumstances. Foreigners above
the age of 23 who legally resided in Germany for at least eight years are entitled to natural-
ization. However, few foreigners become German citizens because they would need to give
up their original citizenship (Münz et al. 1997: 110–114). According to the new citizenship
law of 1999, children born in Germany to at least one parent with permanent residence are
automatically German citizens (Spindler 2002). Children born between 1990 and 1999 could
apply for citizenship retroactively. These children possess dual citizenship until age 23, when
they have to choose between German and foreign citizenship.
12. In 2002, the European Union did not include Poland and Slovenia, both of which
supplied significant numbers of foreigners.
13. Since the beginning of 2005, Jewish Kontingentflüchtlinge are covered under the new
immigration law. As a consequence, it is more difficult for these migrants to settle in Ger-
many. For example, Jewish Kontingentflüchtlinge must now demonstrate German-language
skills.
14. In 1990, the Berlinföderung still amounted to 9.2 billion German Marks, which today
would correspond to a4.7 billion (Bundeszentrale für politische Bildung 1996: 29).
15. Unfortunately, the government’s labor market statistics do not list Spätaussiedler
separately from native-born Germans. They distinguish only between German and foreign
citizens. A new census law (Mikrozensusgesetz) permits identifying Spätaussiedler in future
government statistics.
16. Other cities in southern (and former West) Germany, such as Frankfurt, Stuttgart,
and Munich, have relatively larger foreign populations.
17. The initial reason for selecting immigrants from the former Yugoslavia was the po-
tential for making comparisons between the labor market situations of immigrants in Ber-
lin and Vancouver. As the research progressed, however, it became increasingly clear that
direct comparisons are difficult. The political and legal circumstances of immigration are
too different in Vancouver and Berlin for meaningful comparisons.
18. This office is supposed to be one of the main sites of communication between the
city of Berlin and its foreign populations. The physical building, however, did not project
an inviting image at all. Fellow researchers compared its façade to that of an “abandoned
building” or a “money-laundering facility” rather than a welcoming center for immigrants
and foreign residents.
19. In the German context, the “first” labor market usually refers to the unsubsidized
labor market. The “second” labor market includes positions that are subsidized by the gov-
ernment to create employment opportunities that would otherwise not exist. This meaning
differs from my use of the term “secondary labor market,” referring to low-skill and low-
pay employment with few chances for occupational upward mobility. In the following text,
I use the terms “subsidized” and “unsubsidized” when referring to the German interpreta-
tion of the expression. Although primary/secondary labor market segments and subsidized/
unsubsidized labor markets are conceptually separate categorization schemes, there is likely
a large overlap between the categories.
Chapter 6
1. I have stated my position on this issue in the context of Canadian immigration poli-
cies and politics in a special discussion section in the journal ACME (Bauder 2003a).
2. On an abstract level, Attas (2000) has a point when he suggests that economic rights,
such as the right to organize, strike, and choose an occupation, rather than citizenship it-
self, are at the root of the problem of the exploitation of immigrants. In principle, I do not
disagree with the argument that the extension of economic rights diminishes, or could even
eliminate, inequalities between domestic and foreign workers. However, as I explained in
chapter 1, the political reality of most countries is that economic, social, and political rights
are firmly tied to citizenship. In fact, the point of citizenship is to distribute these rights
unevenly.
3. Technically, the countries discussed here belonged to the European Economic Area,
which was larger than the European Union in 2002, and included Norway, Iceland, and
Liechtenstein. The non-EU members had no decision-making right in EU policy, but their
citizens enjoyed privileged labor market access. To avoid confusion between European
Union policies and the European Economic Area geographical territory, I refer consis-
tently to European Union policies and European Union geography in the text.
4. Out of paranoia that the German labor market could be flooded with unwanted labor
after European Union expansion in May 2004, Germany temporarily restricted the freedom
of employment for the citizens of the new member countries. However, neither European
Union expansion nor the particular restrictions to the new European Union member states
are relevant to this study, which took place prior to these events.
5. Berlin is a city-state; that is, regional and local government are folded into one. The
Berlin Senate is the legislative body for the city and the state (Bundesland) of Berlin. The
Senate Administration manages everyday government operations.
6. Family members of Germans or foreigners with permanent resident status, youths with
a German high school diploma or vocational training, residents of at least six years, and some
other groups also qualified for a work entitlement (Bundesanstalt für Arbeit 2001a).
7. Effective January 1, 2005, Germany’s new immigration law replaces this web of regu-
lations with a somewhat simplified—yet not less exclusionary—system. The new regulations
specify only two main categories, which capture both residence and work entitlements: (1)
the limited residence permit, or Aufenthaltserlaubnis, is issued to students (who are entitled
to work for up to 90 days or 180 half-days in a given year) and investors; (2) the unlimited
settlement permit, or Niederlassungserlaubnis, is issued to highly qualified workers and sci-
entists. These legislative changes, which occurred after my study was completed, do not
weaken the general argument I’m making about the relevance of citizenship and legal
classification. The fact that the new legislation applies only to non-EU citizens and contin-
ues to include and exclude on the basis of citizenship only reinforces my point.
8. A member of the City Council of Munich estimated that 30,000 to 50,000 people with-
out documents live in the city (Götsch 2005). In Berlin, the figures might be even higher.
9. Since the beginning of 2004 the Arbeitsamt is called Agentur für Arbeit.
10. Some refugees from the former Yugoslavia were admitted under a special status
category.
11. Although the Euro (a) was the official currency in Germany at the time of the inter-
view, some interviewees still referred to the old currency, the Deutsche Mark (DM), to
measure price and wage levels. The exchange rate was set at DM 1 = a 0.5113, which corre-
sponds to a 1 = DM 1,95583.
12. But even German nationals confront bureaucratic barriers to their right to creden-
tial assessment. Only those migrants who complete the official emigration procedure
(Ausreiseverfahren) according to its formal guidelines receive the expellee identification
(Vertriebenenausweis), which entitles them to credential assessment and accreditation. Other
migrants of German origin have no right to accreditation.
13. The federal administrative court recently recognized as a de facto German citizen a
young Turkish citizen who lived in Germany since birth but was deported after several crimi-
nal convictions. Based on this ruling, the roughly 1.5 million foreigners who have lived in
Germany since birth can now expect more favorable treatment by the German courts. An
interviewer interpreted this court decision as a turning point in Germany’s attitudes toward
noncitizen residents.
Chapter 7
1. Because the accreditation of foreign credentials is the responsibility of regional gov-

ernments (Länder), Spätaussiedler usually apply for accreditation after they have been as-
signed to a place of residence. In most cases, accreditation cannot be guaranteed prior to
migration.
2. New legislation restricts labor market access to foreign-trained doctors even further.
New regulations for Approbation recognize only the number of years of medical education
obtained abroad, but not the completed exams. Spätaussiedler who received their medical
training abroad are now subjected to examinations based on German professional standards
(Bundesärztekammer 2002).
Chapter 8
1. Contrary to this particular mythology, the maintenance of distinct habitual practices

should not be interpreted as self-destructive behavior. Social isolation and cultural differ-
ence from the dominant social group is not a form of cultural pathology. I have elaborated
on this point elsewhere (Bauder 2002b). In the context of the so-called underclass debate,
which occurred in the 1980s and 1990s in the United States, William Julius Wilson (1987)
interprets out-of-wedlock childbearing, for example, as dysfunctional behavior that suppos-
edly helps explain the economic marginality of many African Americans in inner cities. I
am not at all convinced of the causal relationship between marriage and the economic well-
being of children. In my view, the withdrawal of social services and economic support to
nonmarried mothers (and fathers) is a better explanation. Nevertheless, associating labor
market marginality with the behavioral attributes of the “victim” describes a common, yet
fundamental, fallacy of assigning causality to the wrong variables. Similar to African Ameri-
cans in the United States, immigrants in Germany are marginalized in the labor market
because of their cultural differences from dominant society and the cultural judgments of
employers and other labor market actors. Processes of distinction, not “abnormal” or “dys-
functional” behavior, push immigrants into their labor market situation.
2. Although statistical data on the participation of ethnic groups in the informal economy
are difficult to obtain, interviewees suggested that many refugees indeed work in the informal
economy and that they found these jobs through personal networks. In 2002, 2,172 undocu-
mented immigrants from Serbia-Montenegro alone were caught by German authorities,
which constitutes 10 percent of all such cases in that year (Beauftragte der Bundesregierung
für Migration, Flüchtlinge und Integration 2004: 75). The actual number of undocumented
immigrants from the former Yugoslavia is likely much higher, and many of those immi-
grants probably work in the informal economy. These informal jobs would typically be in
the secondary labor market. For example, the statistics released by the Spanish govern-
ment after completing the legalization of 700,000 undocumented workers in the first half
of 2005 showed that 31.7 percent of these workers were employed in personal households,
20.8 percent in construction, 14.6 percent in agriculture, and 10.4 percent in the hotel
and restaurant sector (Netzwerk Migration in Europa e.V. 2005b: 4). While the distribu-
tion across occupations may be different for immigrants working in the informal economy
of Germany and Berlin, I would expect that the jobs they perform tend to pay below mini-
mum wage, demand irregular and long hours, and often subject the workers to consider-
able physical risk.
3. The Landsmannschaften are membership organizations that were formed after World
War II to represent the interests of ethnic German expellees and refugees from eastern Eu-
rope and the Soviet Union and to provide settlement assistance in (West) Germany.
4. The annual numbers ranged from a low of 15,483 in 1963 to a high of 69,455 in 1981.
5. Although the workers in this labor market are likely more vulnerable than workers
in the formal economy, the interview respondents did not reveal more detailed informa-
tion on working conditions and occupational characteristics. Of course, the informal
economy was not the focus of my survey. Data and reliable evidence on the informal
economy are notoriously difficult to obtain. To examine the informal economy that involves
Spätaussiedler in greater detail would have required an entirely different methodology than
I employed in this research.
6. Ahrensfeld is located adjacent to Marzahn (depicted in Map III.1) but outside the city
limits of Berlin.
7. The Turkish economy of Berlin is actually increasingly complex. Pécoud (2002) describes
variations in Berlin’s Turkish economy along the lines of heterogeneity, hybridity, profession-
alism, internationalization, and state interest. Despite these differences, the majority of busi-
nesses in the Turkish ethnic economy are small, with fewer than three employees. Many of the
businesses employ predominantly Turkish immigrants and concentrate in the food and gro-
cery store sectors. Furthermore, the rate of entrepreneurship among Germany’s Turkish immi-
grants is below that of many other immigrant groups (Leicht et al. 2005).
8. A study by Leicht et al. (2005: 19–20), involving interviews with more than 2,000 en-
trepreneurs, confirms that many Turkish entrepreneurs were motivated by the difficulties
they experienced in the German labor market. According to the study, every fifth Turkish
entrepreneur who participated in the survey started a business because of unemployment,
and every sixth did so because of fear of unemployment in the future.
9. Overall, recent immigrants in the United States, however, are underrepresented among
the self-employed (Sum et al. 2004).
10. German neighborhoods also tend to include a variety of housing types and qualities,
attracting a relatively heterogeneous population. Although hermetic social isolation of for-
eign groups does not exist at the neighborhood scale, segregation may well occur at the scale
of residential buildings. However, even when one single ethnic group occupies an entire
apartment building, these residents would still not be completely isolated, or ghettoized,
because social life includes work, shopping, and socializing outside of a single building.
11. In the interview survey, I asked explicitly whether foreign accents affect the employ-
ment chances of immigrants. The majority of respondents believed that foreign accents dis-
advantaged some immigrants, especially in white-collar professions, supervisory functions
in industry and construction, and image-conscious occupations, such as upper-level gas-
tronomy. An employment skill trainer says that “accent training” is an important compo-
nent of her program because some employers stereotype job applicants with foreign accents
as less competent.
12. Other estimates suggest that as many as 30,000 Aussiedler and Spätaussiedler live in
Marzahn (Zimprich 2004). Reliable information does not exist because Spätaussiedler are
not listed separately in statistical data sets.
13. These debates seemed to have reached their low point in 1999, when Bavaria’s inte-
rior minister Günther Beckstein (1999) subverted political scientist Baasam Tibi’s concept
of a European Leitkultur (lead culture) and demanded a German Leitkultur to which immi-
grants should assimilate. Recently, in light of anti-Muslim sentiment, the interior minister
of Brandenburg, Jörg Schönbohm, used the same rhetoric when he suggested, “Those who
come to us must assume the German Leitkultur.” The influential leader of the Christian Social
Union Party, Edmund Stoiber, recently called for the defense of the “Christian orientation
of our country” (Spiegel 2004).
Part IV Introduction
1. This characteristic was also used as a justification to exclude agriculture from protec-
tive labor legislation.
2. In 2002, Ontario’s general minimum wages was $6.85 per hour.
3. The documentary film El Contrato (National Film Board of Canada 2002) provides
evidence of the miserable working and living conditions of Mexican offshore workers in the
greenhouse operations of Leamington.
4. The 1986 figures represent workers in the occupations of foremen/women; other farm-
ing; livestock farmworkers; crop farmworkers; nursery and related workers; farm machin-
ery operators; and other farming, horticulture, animal occupations. In the 1996 and 2001
censuses, the occupational codes were changed. The matching occupations are general
farmworkers, nursery and greenhouse workers, and harvesting laborers.
5. Despite the relatively high overall cost for Canadian farmers, offshore workers earn
significantly less than their Canadian counterparts. A report by the Canadian office of the
United Farm Workers of America (2001: 10) specifies that in 1995 Canadian farmworkers
with similar tasks as offshore workers earned between $7.32 and $15.07 an hour. In 2001,
foreign migrant workers earned on average only $7.10 an hour.
6. In addition, seasonal offshore workers from Mexico and the Caribbean are a critical
component of the rural retail industry in some towns in rural Ontario. As consumers, off-
shore workers contributed CA$33.6 million to Ontario’s rural economy in 1995 alone
(Greenhill and Aceytuno 2000: 10). In Simcoe and Delhi, some retailers and service provid-
ers have grown accustomed to the regular patronage of foreign workers (Bauder et al. 2003).
7. In a review of the literature on media representations of minorities, Minelle Mahtani
(2001) points to studies that see the portrayal of ethnic minorities in the media as central to
maintaining racism and Eurocentric hegemony in Canada.
Chapter 9
1. Although this repeal was eventually overturned by the Supreme Court of Canada in
December 2001, Ontario’s agricultural workers were effectively not allowed to organize or
join a union between 1995 and 2001. Even after the Supreme Court decision, the conser-
vative provincial government made only minimal concessions to the court ruling. It inter-
preted the ruling as not “requir[ing] legislation that would provide either collective bargaining
or the right to strike” (Ministry of Agriculture and Food, Canada 2002a). It subsequently passed
the Agricultural Employees Protection Act in October 2002, making only minimal conces-
sions to workers’ right to associate and authorizing a tribunal to evaluate and settle work-
ers’ complaints (Ministry of Agriculture and Food, Canada 2002b). The right of agricultural
workers to organize and join a union was not fully implemented.
2. In response to the 2001 protests and the subsequent public outrage, a legal and social
clinic for Leamington-area migrant workers opened in the summer of 2002 with funds from
the United Food and Commercial Workers of Canada, the United Steelworkers, and the
Canadian Labour Congress. Available services include legal aid, translation, health and safety
advice, moral support, and social activities. The center’s legal clinic, with lawyers from
Windsor, Ontario, is funded by the Ontario government (Carr 2002).
3. Foreign migrant workers paid an estimated $11 million in annual contributions to
employment insurance, although they could never collect unemployment benefits because
they could not legally be unemployed and remain in Canada. Conservative commentators
even exploited the issue of employment insurance overpayments by foreign migrant work-
ers to argue for a downsizing of the employment insurance system.
4. For example, Gary Cooper, the president of FARMS, was a popular interviewee among
reporters.
5. Her trip to Mexico resulted in several articles, which were published in the Windsor
Star in November 2000 as a series called “Seasons in the Sun.”
6. Zwarenstein (2002: 15) presents an alternative interpretation for recruiting poor and
married workers: “The Mexican [government] . . . seeks out married individuals for the
program, presumably to keep the workforce on the straight and narrow. Being married tends
to be part of the job.”
Chapter 10
1. Many researchers continue to draw on the work of cultural geographer Carl Sauer to
link ethnicity and origin to the formation of landscape and rural labor practices. The so-
called new cultural geography has moved beyond this essentialized use of culture.
2. Many contemporary cultural geographers concerned with landscape interpret the very
idea of “culture” as an ideology (D. Mitchell 1995).
3. This perspective is rooted in a rich geographical literature (e.g., Cresswell 1996; Gre-
gory 1994; Rose 1993).
4. My empirical research reviewed only articles that mention foreign farmworkers.
Based on the methods deployed in this research, it would be difficult to examine the absence
of migrant farmworkers from the popular imagination of rural landscape (see D. Mitchell
1996).
5. Similarly, in Alberta, where farmers also recruit workers via the offshore program,
“The presence of Mexican seasonal workers in the community is known but not felt” (Smart
1997: 149).
6. Some news reports presented counternarratives describing the workers’ living quar-
ters as a “home-away-from-home.” For example, after a fire in Shrewsbury destroyed the
living quarters of twelve workers from Trinidad, a report in the Chatham (Ontario) Daily
News noted the personal loss for these workers:
Jim Clendenning, their employer, agreed this was a terrible thing to happen to the men.
“This is their home-away-from-home. They took pride in this house and they were
already purchasing things to go back to Trinidad,” he said. “Three or four lost every-
thing they had . . . they’re pretty upset about it all and being so far away from home
doesn’t make it any easier.” (Kok-Wright 1999: 3)
However, this article was not written in the context of a workplace/living space dualism,
but focuses on a particular event that occurred in the home of migrant workers. Therefore,
this counternarrative does not challenge the general devaluation of the living space relative
to the workplace.
7. Karl Marx ([1867] 2001: 65) makes a distinction between abstract and concrete labor.
Concrete labor is qualitatively distinct and tied to the production of a particular good;
abstract labor generates value measured by the capacity for exchanging the produced good.
George Henderson (1998: 81–83) describes how rural labor in California became
commodified in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. However, Henderson
also notes that it was not “abstract” in a pure sense, because farmers discriminated be-
tween workers on the basis of their race rather than the exchange value they could gener-
ate. (For a more elaborate discussion of the racialization of offshore workers, see Satzewich
1991.)
8. In a later announcement, the Windsor Star reported that the accommodation of the
ten workers is legal and in agreement with local zoning guidelines.
9. The link between the local community and the construction of outsider status also
occurs in the context of offshore labor in the Canadian province of Alberta (Smart 1997).
10. Ironically, this offshore worker is skilled in a “well-paying” trade that he cannot prac-
tice in Canada. Instead, he is allowed to work only as temporary labor in agriculture. This
situation resonates with the issue of credential devaluation discussed in chapter 5.
Chapter 11
1. The investigation of the different functions and scales of these two programs, and the
relationship between them, addresses Peck’s (1996: 101) call for fresh approaches to labor
regulation that consider how labor market institutions are “embedded in their national and
international contexts.”
2. In 1995, the Ontario government had already cut welfare payments across the board
by 21.6 percent to put greater pressure on welfare recipients to find jobs (Mosher 2000;
Torjman 1996).
3. Even authors who have completed impressive studies on the political economy of
welfare and workfare tend to treat national and even local labor markets as closed systems
that are relatively unaffected by international relations and institutions (e.g., Peck 2001; Piven
and Cloward 1971).
4. Research on workfare has also concentrated on the consequences for welfare recipi-
ents and institutions that suffer directly from the impact of workfare, and the reactions from
activists, unions, and churches. The views of employers have received less attention in the
literature. This may be a result of an assumption that employers generally support welfare-
to-work policies as they are the intended beneficiaries of cheap and flexible labor. The case
of farmfare may present a unique example—but a quite revealing one in terms of employ-
ers’ perspectives on both Canadian workfare and foreign migrant labor.
Conclusion
1. In Guelph, three Mexican women, who were hired by a Canadian bait producer to
pick worms, went underground after their employer unfairly reduced their pay and denied
them promised training opportunities. Their resistance and action against labor abuses in
the Canadian foreign labor program is supported by the United Food and Commercial
Workers Union and various church groups.
2. Unfortunately, some Canadian unions themselves face accusations of discrimination
based on citizenship and exploitation of their foreign members (Rankin 2005).
3. In 2001, the Canadian office of the United Farmworkers of America presented a re-
port outlining this agenda. The office is now closed, but a similar report was published in
2002 by the United Food and Commercial Workers Union.
4. Magazines such as the New Internationalist (October 2002), the New Socialist (Sep-
tember 2002), and Canadian Dimensions (May/June 2003) have published feature stories
on movements like No One Is Illegal and No Borders.
5. Austro-Marxism refers to a school of thought embraced and developed by a group of
Marxist scholars in Austria during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
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INDEX
Page references in italics indicate illustrations and tables.
abstraction and dehumanization of Barbados, 155. See also offshore labor in

migrant workers using scale Ontario, legitimation of
dualism, 178–184 Basok, Tanya, 180
accent and language, 81–82, 84–85 Bauer, Otto, 202
access to labor markets Berlin immigrants, 107–110, 212–217
citizenship affecting. See citizenship citizenship and legal status categories,
ethnic networking in Vancouver, 73–76 105–107, 111–123
ethnic networks providing access to labor markets, 113–117
Berlin immigrants, 139–142 experience of labor market affected
Vancouver immigrants, 73–76 by, 117–120
institutional regulation affecting. See institutional regulation, 120–122
institutional regulation and labor market differentials
devaluation determined by, 112–113
rules of labor market, Vancouver ethnic communities, 138–154
immigrants’ understanding of, economies of, 142–146
73–76 residential concentrations, 146–153
accreditation. See institutional social networking in, 139–142
regulation and devaluation EU citizens, 106, 114
Adorno, Theodor, 10 illegal/informal employment, 115
agricultural and seasonal labor. See institutional regulation and
seasonal and agricultural workers devaluation
Alboim, Naomi, 90 citizenship and legal status
Algeria, 40, 47–48 categories, 120–122
Appadurai, Arjun, 49 of Spätaussiedler. See Spätaussiedler
Arabian peninsula, labor migration to, 12 and Aussiedler
“astronaut” families (with multiple map of Berlin and surrounding
citizenships), 50 districts, 108
asylum seekers. See refugees and asylum non-EU foreigners
seekers institutional devaluation of, 121–122
Aussiedler. See Spätaussiedler and Aussiedler legal status categories and access to
Austria, 21 labor markets, 114–115
Turks, 107, 108–109, 140, 143–145,
Baes, Francisco, 171–172 148
Balibar, Étienne, 5, 204 Yugoslavians, 107–108, 140
260 INDEX
Berlin immigrants (continued) farmfare proposal. See farmfare

refugees. See refugees and asylum debate in Canada
seekers institutionalized cultural capital in, 44
Spätaussiedler and Aussiedler, 107, integration as concept in, 9
109. See also Spätaussiedler and ius soli principle of citizenship, 51
Aussiedler legislation. See legislation
unemployment rates, 103–104, 107, migrant “homeland” and, scale
108, 109, 148–149 dualism of, 182–184
unification, effects of, 107, 147 NAFTA, 26
Bermuhler, Rob, 169 Non-Immigration Employment
bicycles, association of migrant workers Authorization Program, 22
with, 177, 185 Ontario seasonal workers. See also
Bourdieu, Pierre offshore labor in Ontario,
citizenship as capital and, 49, 52 legitimation of
on cultural capital, 41, 42, 43, 44, 47– policy on immigration, 24–25, 53–56,
48, 136 90–91, 100–101
on depoliticization, 203 Skilled Workers Program, 54, 104
economy-driven view of migration capital
and labor markets, move away citizenship as, 49–52
from, 5, 7 cultural capital, 41–48. See also
on forms of capital, 36–37, 49 cultural capital
on habitus and social capital, 40 distinction and, 35–36, 52
influence of, 8, 10, 13, 35 economy-centered view, rejection of,
on rules of labor market, 62 6–7, 35–36
social theory of, 35 embodied cultural capital, 44–48, 78–
Boyer, Robert, 16 79. See also Vancouver
Bozek, Fred, 173 immigrants
Butler, Judith, 45 forms of, 36–39
human capital theory, 8
Canada. See also Vancouver immigrants institutionalized cultural capital, 42–44
Business Immigration Program, 50, 54 social capital, 39–41
classes of immigrants, 54. See also Caplan, Elinor, 55
Vancouver immigrants Capone, Al, 138
Commonwealth Mexican and Caribbean workers as farm laborers in
Caribbean Seasonal Agricultural Ontario, 22, 24, 28, 155–159. See
Workers Program, 22, 24, 28, also offshore labor in Ontario,
155–159. See also offshore labor legitimation of
in Ontario, legitimation of case studies
cultural representations and foreign Berlin. See Berlin immigrants
labor program, 33 difficulties in comparison of, 12
empirical case studies drawn from, empirical approach based on, 7–11
11–12 Vancouver. See Vancouver
Entrepreneur Program, 50 immigrants
ethnic communities, outcomes for Castells, Manuel, 3–4
immigrants settling outside of, 41 Castles, Stephen, 7
INDEX 261
Charles, Rose, 193 cultural capital, 41–48

Chinese immigrant families Bourdieu on, 41, 42, 43, 44, 47–48, 136
business rules, adaptive problems embodied, 44–48, 78–79. See also
regarding, 61 Vancouver immigrants
guanxi, 40 institutionalized, 42–44
multiple citizenships acquired by, 50 cultural representations
citizenship as discourse strategy, 199
of Berlin immigrants. See Berlin foreign labor program in Canada and,
immigrants 33
as capital, 49–52 geography and, 10, 30, 86–87
different scales of, 51 illegal and irregular migration and
double standards for labor and, 193– employment, 32
195, 197 Philippines, view of migrants in, 32–
formal, 49–50, 123 33
multiple citizenships, familial segmentation theory and, 29–33
accumulations of, 50 United States, view of immigrants in,
segmentation theory and, 25–29 31
substantive, 50–52, 123 Vancouver immigrants, embodied
as tool for controlling labor market, cultural representations of. See
199, 203–204 Vancouver immigrants
classes of immigrants vulnerability of migrants and, 30–31
in Canada, 54. See also Vancouver culture, conceptualization of, 10
immigrants culture shock, 61
German legal status categories, 105–
107. See also Berlin immigrants Daniels, Stephen, 175
clothing as cultural representation, 44– dehumanization and abstraction of
48, 79–80, 82–84 migrant workers using scale
Cohen, Robin, 22, 29–30 dualism, 178–184
Coleman, James, 40 Dentz, Calvin, 195
community vs. workspace, dualism of depoliticization and need for
scale regarding, 180–182 repoliticization, 203–204
competition between migrant and Derrida, Jacques, 202, 203
nonmigrant labor, 23 devaluation of skills and labor. See
Cooper, Gary, 166, 167, 170, 178–179, 179 institutional regulation and
Cosgrove, Denis, 175 devaluation
credentialing. See institutional DeVoretz, Don, 55
regulation and devaluation dress as cultural representation, 44–48,
crime, association of immigrants with 79–80, 82–84
ethnic economies, 143 dualisms associated with ideological and
offshore labor in Ontario, 166–167 geographic scale, 178–184
underclass in residential
concentrations, 147, 152 economies of ethnic communities in
criminalization of international Berlin, 142–146
migrants. See illegal and irregular economy-centered view of capital,
migration and employment rejection of, 6–7, 35–36
262 INDEX
economy-driven view of migration and Chinese. See Chinese immigrant

labor markets, move away from, families
5, 7 migrant workers separated from
economy narrative used to legitimate attractiveness to employers, 21
offshore labor in Ontario, 164–166 offshore labor in Ontario, 171–173
education farm labor. See seasonal and agricultural
institutional regulation of. See workers
institutional regulation and farmfare debate in Canada, 186–198
devaluation citizenship and double standards for
of Vancouver immigrants. See laborers, 193–195, 197
Vancouver immigrants fitness of Canadian welfare workers
embodied cultural capital, 44–48. See for seasonal labor, 191–194
also Vancouver immigrants forced labor, farmfare regarded as,
employment. See labor market; work 190–191, 192
experience history of workfare in Ontario, 187–
Engels, Friedrich, 36 190
ethnic communities media representations of, 190–193
in Berlin. See Berlin immigrants organized labor’s opposition to, 186–
problematic features and outcomes, 187, 197
41, 138–139 Fontana, Joe, 55
in Vancouver, 59 forced labor, farmfare represented as,
ethnic economies in Berlin, 142–146 190–191, 192
ethnic Germans foreign recruitment programs, 22
citizenship status in Germany, 51, 113 former Yugoslavia
as immigrants. See Spätaussiedler and Berlin immigrants from, 107–108,
Aussiedler 140. See also Berlin immigrants
ethnic networks Vancouver immigrants from, 56–57.
Berlin immigrants, 139–142 See also Vancouver immigrants
Vancouver immigrants, 73–76 Foucault, Michel, 8, 44
European Union (EU) France, 21, 23, 27, 42, 51, 201
German immigrants from within, Friedman, Milton, 201
106, 114 Friedmann, John, 7, 47
postnational configuration, as model Frisch, Max, 103
for, 202, 203–204 Fröber, Folker, 6
regional scale of citizenship in, 26
segmentation of labor market and Gardner, Rob, 191
citizenship, 26 Gastorbeiter (guest workers) in
Treaty of Maastricht (Treaty of the Germany, 21, 28, 50, 103, 106,
European Union), 114 115
experience. See work experience Geduldete, 106
gender issues
Falk, Richard, 202 offshore labor in Ontario, 156
families Vancouver immigrants
“astronaut” or “satellite” families intended vs. actual workforce
(with multiple citizenships), 50 participation, 70–73, 71
INDEX 263
labor market gender roles, Greenspan, Alan, 201

immigrant understanding of, 64 guanxi, 40
statistics regarding, 58–59 guest workers (Gastorbeiter) in
geography Germany, 21, 28, 50, 103, 106,
capital, inherently geographical 115
nature of forms of, 37–38
cultural representation and, 10, 30, Habermas, Jürgen, 202, 203
86–87 habitus
migration circumstances influenced embodied cultural capital and, 47–48
by, 17 social capital and, 40–41
scale, ideological and geographic, 30, Hardt, Michael, 15, 200
31, 51, 203. See also offshore Harriott, Daryl, 170
labor in Ontario, legitimation of Harris, Mike, 163, 186
Germany. See also Berlin immigrants Harvey, David, 7, 203
agricultural sector’s reliance on Hayter, Teresa, 201
foreign workers, 22 Henderson, George L., 175
classes of immigrants (legal status Herod, Andrew, 178
categories), 105–107. See also Hoffman, Denton, 172
Berlin immigrants Holston, James, 49
embodied cultural capital in, 47–48 Homo economicus, migrant workers as,
empirical case studies drawn from, 32
11–13 Horkheimer, Max, 10
ethnic Germans from other countries human capital theory, 8
citizenship of, 51, 113 humanitarian reasons for migration, 5
as immigrants. See Aussiedler and
Spätaussiedler ideological and geographic scale, 30, 31,
EU citizens in, 106, 114 51, 203
green card program, 104, 123 offshore labor in Ontario,
guest workers (Gastorbeiter), 21, 28, legitimation of, 175–185
50, 103, 106, 115 dualisms associated with, 178–184
integration as concept in, 9 rural landscape, representation of
ius sanguinis principle of citizenship, migrant workers in, 176–178
51 ideological nonrecognition of
non-EU foreigners in, 107. See also Spätaussiedler and Aussiedler
Berlin immigrants credentials, 130
open borders organizations in, 201 illegal and irregular migration and
policy on immigration, 103–107 employment
refugees. See refugees and asylum Berlin immigrants, 115
seekers cultural representations of, 32
seasonal and temporary workers in, noncitizenship as condition for, 27
122–123 state policy on migration and labor
unification, effects of, 107, 147 markets making use of, 24
“ghettoization” in Berlin ethnic immigration and immigrants. See
communities, 147 migrant workers; migration and
Gonzalez, German, 171 labor markets
264 INDEX
institutional regulation and devaluation, language and accent, 81–82, 84–85

8–9 legislation
Berlin immigrants Canada
citizenship and legal status agricultural worker protections, 163
categories, 120–122 Assistance Plan Act, 189
Spätaussiedler. See Spätaussiedler Health and Social Transfer Act, 189
and Aussiedler Immigration Act (1976), 53
cultural capital, 42–44 Immigration and Refugee
of Vancouver immigrants. See Protection Act (2001), 54
Vancouver immigrants Ontario Works Act, 189
integration of migrants, 9–10, 147–148, Social Assistance Reform Act, 189
152–153 German immigration law of 2004,
Italy, 22 104–105
ius sanguinis and ius soli principles of Treaty of the European Union (Treaty
citizenship, 51 of Maastricht), 114
Lopez, José, 169
Jaffer, Rahmi, 55 Lopez-Bastos, Emmanuelle, 177
Jamaica, 155. See also offshore labor in Los Angeles school of urban research, 7
Ontario, legitimation of Luxemburg, Rosa, 22
job market. See access to labor markets;
labor markets Maastricht Treaty (Treaty of the
Just, Alex, 180, 192 European Union), 114
justification of migrant worker policies. maps
See offshore labor in Ontario, Berlin and surrounding districts, 108
legitimation of Greater Vancouver, 57
Ontario offshore labor areas, 156
Kaluzynska, Eva, vii Marshall, Alfred, 16
Kennedy, John F., 138 Marx, Karl, 16, 19–20, 36, 44
Kontingenflüchtlinge, 106, 120, 143 Mazur, Michael, 191
media representations
labor markets farmfare debate in Canada, 190–193
access to. See access to labor markets offshore labor in Ontario, 160–161,
migration and. See migration and 163–164, 173–174. See also
labor markets offshore labor in Ontario,
rules of. See Vancouver immigrants legitimation of
segmentation of. See segmentation Mexico
theory Commonwealth Mexican and
social, cultural, and institutional Caribbean Seasonal Agricultural
processes shaping, 8–9, 11, 16–17 Workers Program, 22, 24, 28,
labor unions 155–159. See also offshore labor
farmfare in Canada, opposition to, in Ontario
186–187, 197 migration and labor market policies,
solidarity with migrants, 23, 200 24–25
Lall, Rob, 182 NAFTA, 26
Landsmannschaften, 141 U.S. Mexican Labor Program, 22
INDEX 265
migrant communities. See ethnic demonizing/romanticizing images of

communities; ethnic Germans; migrant laborers, 166–170
ethnic networks double standards for citizen vs.
migrant workers, activism of, 200 migrant laborers, 193–195
migration and labor markets, 3–7. See economy narrative, 164–166
also more specific topics farmfare proposal and. See farmfare
empirical approach, 11–13 debate in Canada
evolving conditions of, 12–13 fitness of migrants vs. Canadians as
recursive nature of relationship seasonal laborers, 191–194
between, 15–18 map of relevant areas, 156
theoretic approach to, 7–11 newspaper content analysis and role
migration controls, elimination of, 201– of media representations, 160–
203 161, 163–164, 173–174
Mountz, Alison, 25 scale, ideological and geographic,
Murphy, Frank, 169 175–185
dualisms associated with, 178–184
NAFTA (North American Free Trade rural landscape, representation of
Agreement), 26 migrant workers in, 176–178
Nash, George, 172 social mobility narrative, 170–173
nation-states vulnerability of migrants, 158–159,
avoiding essentialization of, 202 192–195
migration and labor market policies, O’Neil, Pat, 180–181
23–25 Ontario. See offshore labor in Ontario,
postnational reconfigurations of, 202– legitimation of
204 open borders, concept of, 201–203
Negri, Antonio, 15, 200 organized labor
neoliberalism, 199 farmfare in Canada, opposition to,
Netherlands, 21 186–187, 197
networks, ethnic/social solidarity with migrants, 23, 200
Berlin immigrants, 139–142
Vancouver immigrants, 73–76 “parachute” children (with citizenships
newspaper content analysis differing from rest of family), 50
farmfare debate in Canada, 190–193 Peck, Jamie, 16
offshore labor in Ontario, 160–161, Philippines
163–164, 173–174 citizenship and market segmentation,
North American Free Trade Agreement 28
(NAFTA), 26 cultural representations of migrants
in, 32–33
occupation, social field, and embodied migration and labor market policies,
cultural representations, 83–85 24, 25
offshore labor in Ontario, legitimation of Piore, Michael, 3, 20
Commonwealth Mexican and Polanyi, Karl, 16
Caribbean Seasonal Agricultural political issues
Workers Program, 22, 24, 28, depoliticization and need for
155–159 repoliticization, 203–204
266 INDEX
political issues (continued) Russia, ethnic Germans returning to

legitimation of offshore labor in Germany from. See
Ontario, 159 Spätaussiedler and Aussiedler
migration, political reasons for, 5–6
migration studies, political nature of, Samers, Michael, 5, 35
vii–viii Sassen, Saskia, 7
Putnam, Robert, 40 “satellite” families (with multiple
citizenships), 50
race and migration, 10, 30, 160, 169– scale, ideological and geographic, 30, 31,
170, 194 51, 203
Rae, Bob, 163 offshore labor in Ontario,
Raper, Stan, 197–198 legitimation of, 175–185
Rau, Johannes, 104 dualisms associated with, 178–184
recruitment of migrant workers, 22 rural landscape, representation of
refugees and asylum seekers migrant workers in, 176–178
in Canada, 54 Schedlich, Bosilika, 116
in Germany, 106–107 Schilly, Otto, 105
ethnic economies, 143 Schott, Al, 182
institutional devaluation of, 120 Schwarzenegger, Arnold, 31
Kontingenflüchtlinge, 106, 120, 143 seasonal and agricultural workers
legal status categories and access to citizenship and, 51
labor market, 115–116 fitness of migrants vs. natives as, 51,
reasons for immigration of, 5 191–194
regulation, institutional. See in Germany, 122–123
institutional regulation and Ontario, migrant workers in. See
devaluation offshore labor in Ontario,
regulation school, 16 legitimation of
Reid, Bill, 179, 183 welfare recipients as. See farmfare
Reid, Linda, 179 debate in Canada
Reitz, Jeffrey, 100 segmentation theory, 19–25
remittances, 171–172 citizenship and, 25–29
repoliticization, need for, 203–204 cultural representation and, 29–33
residence vs. workspace, dualism of differential institutional regulation of
scale regarding, 178–180 primary vs. secondary labor
residential concentrations of ethnic groups market segments, 133–136
Berlin immigrants, 146–153 embodied cultural capital and, 47
Vancouver immigrants, 59 fitness of migrants vs. natives as
Richardo, David, 36 seasonal laborers, 193
Rodrigues, Armando, 103 social as well as economic aspects of,
Rogowski, Michael, 105 35
rules of labor markets. See Vancouver Segsworth, Ed, 194
immigrants September 11 attacks, 55, 199
Rumi, Consuelo, 23 Sharma, Nandita, 33, 49
rural landscape, representation of Shragge, Eric, 188
migrant workers in, 176–178 Simpson, Wallis, 79, 86
INDEX 267
Skarica, Tom, 186 ethnic communities in Berlin

skills regulation and devaluation. See economies of, 142–143
institutional regulation and residential concentrations of, 150–
devaluation 153
smell as cultural representation, 80–81 social networking, 140–142
Smith, Adam, 36 historical background, 105
Smith, Michael Peter, 7, 142 institutional regulation and
social, cultural, and institutional devaluation, 124–137
processes. See also cultural citizenship rights failing to negate,
capital; cultural representations; 120–122, 124–125
institutional regulation and credential nonrecognition or low
devaluation valuation, 125–129
capital as. See capital foreign work experience,
citizenship as, 49–52 nonrecognition of, 128
conceptualization of culture, 10 ideological issues, 130
labor markets shaped by, 8–9, 11, 16– interruption of employment
17 history due to, 128–129
reasons for migration, 5 legitimation of nonrecognition,
regulation school on, 16 129–130
segmentation theory and cultural primary vs. secondary labor market
representation, 29–33 segments, differential regulation
state labor and migration policy of, 133–136
influenced by, 25 regulatory bodies, 131–133
social entitlements Volksdeutschen Landsmannschaften,
citizenship as means of shifting 141
burden of, 27 states. See nation-states
temporary and seasonal workers in Stevens, Judi and Charles, 191
Germany, 122–123 Süssmuth Commission, Germany,
welfare recipients as seasonal workers. 104
See farmfare debate in Canada Switzerland, 21
social mobility narrative used to
legitimate offshore labor in target earning, 21–22
Ontario, 170–173 “taxi driver phenomenon,” 74
social networks Taylor, Robert, 180–181
Berlin immigrants, 139–142 temporary migrants
Vancouver immigrants, 73–76 in Germany, 122–123
South Asia, immigrants to Vancouver seasonal agricultural workers in
from, 56. See also Vancouver Ontario. See offshore labor in
immigrants Ontario, legitimation of
Soysal, Yasemin Nuhoglu, 27 Treaty of Maastricht (Treaty of the
Spain, 22, 23 European Union), 114
Spätaussiedler and Aussiedler, 105, 107, Trinidad and Tobago, 155. See also
109 offshore labor in Ontario,
citizenship rights and access to labor legitimation of
market, 113–114, 123 Trudeau, Pierre Elliot, 186
268 INDEX
Turkey types of, 54

Berlin immigrants from, 107, 108– Vancouver immigrant statistics,
109, 140, 143–145, 148. See also 57–58
Berlin immigrants distribution across secondary labor
ethnic communities in Berlin, 140, market segments, 60
143–145, 148 education
EU migrant workers from, 26 immigrant class and, 64–65, 65
German guest workers from, 21, 28, institutional devaluation of. See
50, 107 “institutional regulation and
devaluation” under this entry
underclass, concept of, 147, 152 rising levels of, 90
unemployment rates of Berlin embodied cultural representations,
immigrants, 103–104, 107, 108, 78–89
109, 148–149 changes over time regarding, 86
unfree labor. See vulnerability of geographic contingencies of, 86–87
migrants immigrant manipulation of, 87–88
unions occupation and social field, 83–85
farmfare in Canada, opposition to, organizing principles, used by labor
186–187, 197 market as, 79–83
solidarity with migrants, 23, 200 ethnic communities, 59
United States gender differences. See gender
African-American vs. immigrant differences
business ownership, 40–41 institutional regulation and
case studies not included from, viii devaluation, 90–101
cultural representations of assessment of foreign credentials,
immigrants in, 31 92–97
ethnic networks, importance of, 139 Canadian experience, value placed
H-2 and H-2A visa programs, 22, 24 on, 97–100
ius soli principle of citizenship, 51 regulatory bodies controlling, 91–
Mexican Labor Program, 22 92
NAFTA, 26 map of Greater Vancouver, 57
open borders organizations in, 201 rules of labor market and, 61–77
Operation Gatekeeper, 24 access to jobs and ethnic
workfare programs in, 187–188 networking, 73–76
classes of immigrants and, 64–70
Van Parijs, Philippe, 28–29 immigrant problems adapting to,
Vancouver immigrants, 56–60, 205–211 62–64
average incomes, 59–60 intended vs. actual workforce
Canadian immigration policy participation, 70–73, 71
affecting, 53–56, 90–91, 100–101 responses to constraints of, 70–76
classes of immigrants South Asian immigrant population, 56
career objectives and, 67–68 workforce participation, 58–59
education and, 64–65, 65 immigrant class and intention to
intention to work and, 65–67, 66 work, 65–67, 66
rules of labor market and, 64–70 intended vs. actual, 70–73, 71
INDEX 269
Yugoslavian immigrant population, work, access to. See access to labor

56–57 markets
Venus of Willendorf, 86 work experience
Volksdeutschen Landsmannschaften, 141 Canadian experience, value placed on,
vulnerability of migrants, 12 97–100
cultural representations and, 30–31 Spätaussiedler and Aussiedler,
in ethnic economies, 142 nonrecognition of foreign work
migrant workers’ activism in experience of, 128
opposition to, 200 work, informal or illegal. See illegal and
noncitizenship contributing to, 26–28 irregular migration and
offshore labor in Ontario, 158–159, employment
192–195 workfare proposal in Canada. See
social capital contributing to, 41 farmfare debate in Canada
strategies for reducing, 199–204 workforce participation of Vancouver
value as workers related to, 22 immigrants, 58–59
immigrant class and intention to
Waldinger, Roger, 40, 142 work, 65–67, 66
Walzer, Michael, 49 intended vs. actual, 70–73, 71
Weber, Max, 44 World Trade Center and Pentagon,
Welch, Mary Agnes, 166, 171, 177 September 11 attacks on, 55, 199
welfare recipients as seasonal workers.
See farmfare debate in Canada Yugoslavia, former
Wilkinson, David, 181 Berlin immigrants from, 107–108,
Williams, Raymond, 10 140. See also Berlin immigrants
Wilpert, Czarina, 115 Vancouver immigrants from, 56–57.
Wittgenstein, Ludwig, 48 See also Vancouver immigrants

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LABOR MOVEMENT

How Migration Regulates Labor Markets

Copyright © 2006 by Oxford University Press, Inc.

Published by Oxford University Press, Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

My research in Vancouver was supported by a postdoctoral fellowship from the

Part I—How Migration Regulates Labor Markets:

Part II—Immigrants in Vancouver, 53

Part III—Immigrants in Berlin, 103

Part IV—Offshore Labor in Ontario, 155

Conclusion: Labor, Migration, and Action, 199

High-profile thinkers have recently discussed international migration in this

to assume a capital-centered perspective of economic processes, portraying in-

institutional authority are permitted to practice surgery. Immigrant doctors who

depend on them. Disrupting the international migration process would disturb

We live in a world where a neoliberal economic system penetrates at an in-

in the public discourse on migration in Germany. Further, during the period in

Outline of the Book

HOW MIGRATION REGULATES LABOR MARKETS:

Labor Market Regulation

“Mass migrations have become necessary for production,” say Michael

Several scholars remind us of the fallacy of separating work and nonwork

INTERNATIONAL SEGMENTATION OF LABOR

Migration and Segmentation

As I mentioned earlier, the circumstances under which international migra-

or deny people and workers physical entry to a country. In addition, it imposes

after spending several years in a country, migration entails at first the

trading partner merely suffer from the asymmetrical international distribution

In addition, demeaning representations of foreigners and migrants tend to

shore labor programs.13 Cultural representations are an important tactic in the

CAPITAL AND DISTINCTION

Early approaches to labor market segmentation focused on either demand- or

The chapter is organized into four sections. First, I discuss a perspective of

meaning and value. In the category of cultural capital, several subcategories

tal) can lead to a job providing an income (economic capital), or an employer

entrepreneur-rich immigrant groups take advantage of the availability of

Institutionalized Cultural Capital

For international migrants, educational credentials constitute a major labor

Place of education becomes a symbol of labor market distinction. The edu-

Embodied Cultural Capital

and competences that go far beyond a person’s nose-blowing behavior. It situ-

habitus was severely disrupted, leading to social and institutional isolation of

Similar to other forms of capital, citizenship is not a natural category. For-

Canadian Immigration Policy

Canadian immigration history has been closely linked to Canadian labor

Canada were skilled workers in 2001 illustrates the importance of labor

The Case of Vancouver

After Toronto, Vancouver is Canada’s second most important immigrant

MAP II. 1. Greater Vancouver (Map by Marie Puddister)

Bosnia-Herzegovina came as refugees, whereas most immigrants from

occupational segmentation, recent immigrants from these areas share many

“Culture shock” is a common phenomenon among visitors to another coun-

Rules of the Labor Market

The Significance of Immigrant Class

TABLE 3.1. Landings by Education and Immigration Class in Metro Vancouver,

Source: Longitudinal Immigration Data System (2003).

employed in professional occupations before they emigrated. Many of these

Responses to Labor Market Constraints

Intention to Actual Labor

No intention In labor force

Although female immigrants from the former Yugoslavia are conscious of

as family-class immigrants, and their ethnic community is small and fragmented

Place of origin and associated practices guide initial employment preferences,