One of the most interesting claims in Solidarity in Conflict is that conflict is essential to solidarity groups. Instead of seeing solidarity as a form of unity or togetherness (p. 130), threatened by conflict and disagreement, Rochelle DuFord develops a sophisticated theory to show that solidarity thrives on conflict.

This claim goes against both liberal theories that consensus is necessary for legitimacy (Habermas, Rawls) and theories that eliminate conflict or disagreement from their understandings of solidarity, such as those by Avery Kolers (pp. 32–35, 37–38), Sally Scholz (p. 45), or Jodi Dean (p. 57).

One virtue of DuFord’s approach is that it takes as paradigmatic the solidarity of the oppressed with each other rather than the solidarity of the privileged with the oppressed, contrary to recent theories of solidarity by Andrea Sangiovanni, Kolers, or Scholz (pp. 32, 34–35, 48, 59). In this sense, solidary groups, DuFord argues in chapter 2, are constituted by two types of conflict, corresponding to two relations constitutive of solidarity.

One type of conflict is external. Aimed at fighting domination and oppression, solidarity groups are oppositional; they are in conflict with those on their outside. This conflict characterizes the external relation of the solidary group to a broader public, part of which supports them and part of which opposes them (p. 57). The other type of conflict is internal. This can be conflict over substantive goals (p. 59), or over the best way to interpret needs (p. 133), but fundamentally “over who is included in the solidarity group itself” (p. 60). In fact, given that the conflict fundamental to solidarity is one over boundaries, DuFord urges us to think of solidarity as a dialectical process of negotiation between the internal and external aspects of the solidarity relation. In negotiating our disagreements, we negotiate who the internal “we” is. The internal relation of solidarity is forged through disagreement. The same disagreement forges the external relation: “who is excluded and against what we stand” (p. 59). For DuFord the call for including “trans-and gender-nonconforming people in feminist movements” is an example of such a conflict, both over the substantive goals that will best resist patriarchy and over who is included in the solidarity group. Conflict is fundamental to solidarity as “a process of infinite nonexclusion” (p. 59), a process whose ultimate aim is to end domination.

The notion that solidarity is “a process of nonexclusion” is part of DuFord’s larger argument that solidarity groups perform a democratic function in the context of late capitalism. Drawing on Wendy Brown, DuFord argues that neoliberal policies and politics have resulted in a “loss of social life,” which is at the root of the current crises of democracy (Brexit, the rise of White nationalism, etc.), as society and social life are necessary preconditions of democratic life (p. 26). Under these conditions, we should understand solidarity groups—social movements aimed at ending exclusion and domination—as building society, thus undermining the neoliberal destruction of society and democratic life. But this process of society building is necessarily one in which conflict plays a central role, undermining the neoliberal tendency to produce a consensus (pp. 29–30).

While I share DuFord’s suspicion of the liberal quest for legitimacy in consensus and I have sympathy for the general point that we should pay more theoretical attention to conflict and contestation, I could not help thinking that the process of negotiating conflict described here is framed by agreement. While the members of the solidary group disagree, they can withstand disagreement because they are committed to a vision of how to live (p. 59), dedicated to a common cause, or share “a common dedication to mediating divergent and seemingly contradictory powers and interests” (p. 60). Given that conflict is framed by what is shared and agreed upon, it is unclear whether conflict or, on the contrary, that which is shared does the work of “infinite nonexclusion” and of building society that solidarity, on DuFord’s account, does.

The argument that I found more compelling comes much later, at the end of chapter 4, in a detailed, sophisticated discussion of wildcat strikes, or strikes unauthorized by the union leadership. It is unfortunate that this example is not at the beginning of the book, instead of being almost hidden in a chapter that makes a different argument: that labor organizing should be considered a central case of solidarity.

DuFord discusses the 2018–19 teachers’ strikes in West Virginia that went wildcat when the union leadership urged teachers to return to their classrooms although they had not won better pay and benefits. When teachers continued to strike, they drew wide public support, including from students who walked in support of their teachers and from school superintendents who closed schools for seven days to allow teachers to put pressure on the state legislature without their action being classified as a strike, which would have made it illegal (pp. 131–32). On DuFord’s reading, this is an example of the type of internal conflict that the book argues is paradigmatic of solidarity groups; it shows that by its nature solidarity is “a relationship thoroughly imbued with conflict.” This is an internal conflict that, when acted on, has the potential—as it did in the case of West Virginia’s teachers’ strikes—to build a broad base of solidarity and, with it, society (p. 132).

The problem is that the case—even in DuFord’s rendering—does not show that. It does not show that conflict is fundamental to the internal relationship of solidarity, and that negotiation of that conflict is what builds society. The conflict at issue in the wildcat strikes is not between the members of the solidarity groups, but between membership and leadership; it is a conflict with an authority, no different than the conflict with the external authority of “the bosses,” as DuFord’s account of wildcat strike as “a union fighting both its bosses: union bosses and corporate bosses” suggests (p. 130). Drawing on Joseph Raz’s notion of authority, DuFord convincingly argues that wildcat strikes are cases in which a union leadership fails to provide authoritative directives because the reasons behind the leadership’s directives (presumably avoiding an illegal strike) are different than those ultimately followed (and accepted as reasons that apply to them) by the members who stay on strike (reasons generated by the poor working conditions) (p. 131). In this case, the public—to which the group stands in an external, not internal relation—accepts the latter reasons rather than the former, and that is what builds the union’s support. But this looks to me more like taking sides than like negotiating internal conflict. Here—as in other cases—one wishes more attention were paid to the specific connections between concepts, cases, and the overall arguments.

Yet Solidarity in Conflict introduces us to an important, timely, and undertheorized issue: how to reinvigorate our democratic life while fostering rather than diminishing dissent and contestation. It also challenges us to think of social movements as playing an important role in this task. It combines close critical engagement with major texts in critical theory with rich, detailed discussions of social movements and activist groups. The result is a wide variety of arguments, some developing over several chapters, some not fully developed, and the relationship of some unclear to the overall themes and argument. Yet, this is a book worth reading and with which we should continue to engage.