UvA-DARE (Digital Academic Repository) Urban inequalities and the identity-to-politics link in the Netherlands and Nigeria

This article examines the entanglements of diversity, urban inequalities, group politics and conflict in advanced and emergent democracies. Though advanced democracies are considered to be generally more egalitarian than their emergent counterparts, there is need for further understanding of the specific ways in which the dimensions and parameters of diversity and inequalities resemble or contrast in the two contexts. In this article, we explore the repertoires of interactions between diversity, inequalities and local politics in Amsterdam (Netherlands) and Jos (Nigeria). We suggest that whereas in Amsterdam an anti-Muslim discourse, more so than group level inequalities, led to the politicization of immigrant groups, in Jos group politics is driven by a strong overlap between ascribed identities and inequalities. While immigrant groups in Amsterdam articulate and pursue their interests within the confines of a regulated political space dominated by formal institutions, groups in Jos deploy violent strategies in pursuing their interests because of the prevalence of weak institutions. The conclusion reiterates a few key insights derived from this cross-fertilization.


Introduction
Changes in levels of inequalities across the world in the last five decades are attributed to shifting global trends. In particular, economic globalization is noted to have prompted developments that led to large-scale dis-industrialization along with an expansion of the service sector. This in turn decreased the demand for unskilled labour and increased opportunities for professional jobs (Iversen & Cusack 2000;Bradley et al. 2003). These shifts, it is pointed out, have resulted in rising levels of unemployment, poverty and social exclusion with groups historically known to suffer educational and cultural disadvantage at the receiving end (Chossudovsky 2003). Though the Human Development Index (HDI) has seen a stable rise across both advanced and emergent democracies in the last three decades, levels of inequality have not changed in any significant manner. For example, the Netherlands climbed from 0.883 in 2009 to 0.934 in 2018 while Nigeria moved from 0.452 to 0.534 within the same period (UNDP 2018). In the Netherlands, pre-tax income inequality among the top 10 percent has been on a steady increase since 1980 though it has seen a slight decline in the bottom 50 percent. For Nigeria, levels of income inequality have not seen any remarkable change either, fluctuating between 12.5 and 15 percent 1 . We suggest that though factual, macro level interpretations often give a simplistic picture that understates the contextual dynamics that shape how inequalities are produced and sustained in different societies, it also plays down the agency and relevance of key local actors and factors and ultimately leads to policy and solutions that are not context-sensitive. While acknowledging the pervasive and debilitating implications of globalization on local economies and resultant rising levels of unemployment, poverty and inequalities, our primary goal is to draw attention to country and city-specific drivers, patterns and topologies of group level urban inequalities.
Diversity and inequalities are generally portrayed as important drivers of conflict and violence (Stewart 2016;Langer 2005). We propose that the interaction between these variables is complex, non-linear and to a large extent depends on the prevailing institutional environment. Our suggestion is that inequalities may not lead to major incidents of conflict and violence in urban contexts where the political space is well regulated and dominated by strong formal institutions. However, in settings where weak and informal institutions prevail, inequalities and contentious politics will easily translate in violent conflict. The first objective of the article is to embark on a review of theoretical and empirical perspectives on urban inequalities in advanced democracies in the global North and emergent democracies in the global South. Though advanced democracies are considered to be generally more egalitarian than their emergent counterparts, there is need for understanding the specific ways in which the parameters of inequalities resemble or contrast in the two contexts. The convention has been to compare inequalities in terms of scale and degree (see Glaeser, Resseger & Tobio 2008. The finer details of differences in patterns and configurations of inequalities across contexts have eluded scrutiny. In this article, we explore how different contextual conditions interacting with external stimuli such as global political and economic shifts can give rise to (dis)similar patterns of inequalities, social categories and minority politics in socalled egalitarian and non-egalitarian societies.
Quite apart from studies that focus on GDP and other macro indicators such as the HDI -even though we draw copiously from them, our aim is to distil contextual and noncontextual similarities and dissimilarities in the parameters, dimensions and processes of urban inequalities between non-immigrants and immigrants in Amsterdam (the Netherlands) and so-called indigenes and non-indigenes in Jos (Nigeria). We are aware of the academic and public discussions related to these categorizations, stigmatization and labels (Schinkel 2017) but for the purpose of this article, Turkish immigrant community refers to first and second generation immigrants -that is the immigrants that came from Turkey and their Dutch born descendants. In the case of Jos, we use immigrants interchangeably with nonindigenes, a term that in Nigeria-focused literature denotes internal immigrants that migrated and settled relatively recently in any part of the country other than their patrilocal place of origin. These social categories receive further clarification in the section on Jos.
Our second objective is to look at how immigrant politics play out in two cities -one in an advanced democracy in the North (Amsterdam, the Netherlands) and another in an emergent democracy in the South (Jos, Nigeria). In particular, we are interested in how the identity-to-politics link plays out in each of the cases. As a premise, the identity-politics link supposes, 'individuals who share a demographic label -e.g., African American, Latino, Asian American, Arab American -will also share common political goals and interests and act in concert to pursue them' (Lee 2008, p. 458). This rather uncritical summation has been questioned. Focusing primarily on the US, Lee (2007Lee ( , 2008 has called for 'unpacking' of this link by focusing 'on core relationships, or constitutive processes, that link demographic identities to group politics' (Lee 2008, p. 458). Similarly, scholars in Europe are also expressing this scepticism. Most recently, a study of immigrants in Belgium, Germany, Switzerland and the United Kingdom critically examined this 'presumed relationship by analyzing how voting probability is affected by social identification in combination with other elements -namely, perception of shared grievances and group resources' (Kranendonk, Vermeulen & van Heelsum 2018, p. 43). These critical views show that the identity-politics link is much more complex than the literature had hitherto acknowledged. Lee (2008) identifies and explains five distinct processes that characterize the identity-to-politics link: (1) definition, (2) identification, (3) consciousness, (4) venue selection, and (5) choice. While this notion has come under increasing scrutiny in the West, it is yet to be examined in non-Western contexts. In part, our work aims to bridge this gap and, in so doing, highlight aspects of the identity-to-politics link that are constant across the contexts under review and those that are specific to a particular setting.
The cases we have chosen could not be any more different. Apart from being geographically poles apart, the two cases are radically different in terms of politics, history and culture. As the largest Dutch metropolis, Amsterdam falls in that privileged category of so-called Global Cities (Rath et al. 2014). On the other hand, Jos is one of Nigeria's secondary cities, an emblematic African metropolis with a colonial history and all its characteristic political, demographic and infrastructural pressures. At a surface level, bringing these cities together is relevant for advancing the discourse on the interrelation between systems of democracy, quality of institutions, inequalities and patterns of minority politics. Beyond this, however, one of our primary objectives is to initiate a discussion of the forms and parameters of diversity, urban inequalities, group politics and conflict across advanced and emergent democracies. This responds to calls for a framework for urban studies that embraces a wider range of cities (Robinson 2004, p. 17). In addition, looking at how minority groups self-organise in the face of group level imbalances in these distinct contexts promises to be relevant for the burgeoning literature on the identity-to-politics link. While this link has been studied in advanced democracies, it is yet to be examined in emergent democracies.
Our task is not a comparison in a strict sense but primarily an attempt to explore the formal and informal institutions and practices through which inequalities are produced, sustained and contested. Informal here simply refers to institutions that are 'created, communicated, and enforced outside of officially sanctioned channels' (Helmke & Levitsky 2004, p. 725). Formal institutions are explicitly codified and operate on the basis of regulations supported by constitutional clauses and laws. Unlike their informal counterparts, formal institutions are protected and guaranteed and protected by state agencies. On the other hand, informal institutions exist solely on the basis of their effectiveness and utility for the actors involved. While both formal and informal institutions are generally known and recognizable, the former is laid down in writing but the latter is not (Lauth 2000, p. 24). To be clear, the term informal does not connote low standards. We align with the view that informality can be a source of innovation that promotes efficiency and collective good (Crush, Chikanda & Skinner 2015;Parnell & Robinson 2012).
This article is primarily based on a review of extant literature but also draws from the authors' research in Amsterdam and Jos (Vermeulen 2006;2013;Madueke 2018a;2018b;Madueke & Vermeulen 2019). It integrates insights from more than ten years of research on immigration, immigrants, urban politics and inequality in Amsterdam, and about five years of intermittent fieldwork on contentious group politics between urban groups in Jos. In looking at these two cities side by side, the article adopts an integrative framework that aims to synthesize ideas, insights and lessons from two disparate urban settings. Though the article mainly focuses on urban politics in both cities within the last 20 years, it occasionally travels further back in time to provide a background to recent political and social dynamics. The last 20 years represent a period of upsurge of minority politics in both contexts. For Nigeria, the transition to a democratic system of government in 1999 prompted a lot of political mobilization by minority groups to challenge longstanding inequalities and injustices (Madueke 2018a). The 1990s were equally eventful in the Netherlands. The residue of pillarisation was releasing its hold as the most pillarized political parties, The Christian Democratic Appeal (CDA) and the Labour Party (also known as "Partij van de Arbeid" -PvdA), lost their majority in the Parliament in 1994 leading to the emergence of a completely secular government since 1918 (Lucardie 1999, p. 154).
The rest of the article proceeds in four steps. Following this introduction, the first part surveys key theoretical perspectives on urban equality. The main task here is to scrutinize and draw insights from prominent interpretations of urban inequalities in the global North and global South. The second part zooms in on how minority groups mobilize in the face of urban inequalities in Amsterdam and Jos. Though the article mainly focuses on urban politics in both cities within the last 30 years, it occasionally travels further back in time to provide a background to recent political and social dynamics. In doing this, we highlight the key processes in the identity-to-politics link in the two cases. We show that these processes are similar in both contexts but lead to dissimilar outcomes mainly because of some sociopolitical and institutional differences. The conclusion highlights a few key findings and their relevance.

Theorizing urban inequalities in the North and the South
The modern city is s site of diversity, inequalities, struggles for social emancipation and equilibrium. This is true for cities in the advanced democracies of the global North as much as for the emergent democracies of the global South. Social scientists across disciplinary lines have been concerned with the question of urban inequality for the academic perplexities that it warrants as well as for policy and practical purposes. There are identifiably three prominent theoretical lenses that have been used in interpreting urban inequality. One of these perspectives is the global city theory. It originates from the work of Sassen (1994Sassen ( , 2002 and focuses on global economic restructuring and its effects on global cities. According to this framework, the last few decades saw a process of major economic change characterized by an internationalization of production and businesses (also see Rugman 1980;Li & Reuveny 2003). The new pattern of international investment concentrates economic opportunities in urban locations that operate as sites of financial and corporate control otherwise known as global cities (Kennedy 2011). These global cities attract financial services and other highly specialized professions. However, they also attract migrants because there is also a high demand for low wage labour. Because of this economic structure and the migratory pattern, the global city is a socially polarized urban context where the rich and poor coexist side by side (Musterd et al. 2017;Sassen 1991).
In line with this position, discourses of urban inequality in Europe have in the last decades emphasized how major economic changes in the post-War period have precipitated inequalities between non-immigrants and immigrants. These studies reiterate the role of globalization in (re)shaping labour markets, employment and local economies across the world. Scholarly works in European cities, including Amsterdam, Berlin, and Paris have focused on the social and spatial dimensions of diversity, immigration and inequalities (Nell & Rath 2009;Vermeulen, Tillie & van de Walle 2012;Kühn 2015). It is generally believed that many European cities have in recent decades seen a major increase in levels of inequalities (Sassen 1991). These increasing inequalities, it is argued, are brought about by de-industrialisation on a mass scale (Kempen & Murie 2009, p. 377) as well as economic globalisation, capital and labour flexibility and welfare restructuring (Cassiers & Kesteloot 2012, p. 1909).
The second perspective on urban inequalities is known as the mismatch theory. It argues that the relevant process in most cities is not social polarization but professionalization (Wilson 1999;. In agreement with the social polarization theory, the mismatch argument points to economic restructuring and increasing global competition as the basis for social inequality. However, the point of departure for the mismatch theory is that the shift in the global economy warranted a post-industrial economy where the demand for professional jobs increased exponentially while the demand for low wage jobs shrunk due mainly to the disappearance of industries and the expansion of the service sector (Wilson 2003). Large populations of people living in American inner cities do not have the educational qualification required to work in the service sector. These populations, mainly African Americans, were therefore hit by high levels of unemployment (Chaddha & Wilson 2011). The mismatch is that these people who reside in the inner city do not have the requisite education to be employed in the city and they reside faraway from places where the few remaining industrial jobs still exist (Wilson & Aponte 1985;Wilson 2003). In their study of four large American cities -Atlanta, Boston, Detroit and Los Angeles, O'Connor, Tilly and Bobo (2001) discuss urban inequality against the background of the shift from a factorybased economy to one that is more global, decentralized and based on finance, services and technology. This has had far-reaching implications for the levels and type of education required to be employed and ultimately what sections of the population are included or excluded in the labour market. This shift affected ethnic and racial groups differently. Minority groups subjected to longstanding educational disadvantages were disproportionately affected by the decline in high wage manufacturing jobs. Most of them did not have the requisite qualification to access employment in the 'new economy'. The main beneficiaries of this economic system were those with access to 'premium education' many of them with college degrees to show for it (O'Connor, Tilly & Bobo, 2001).
The social and economic effects of globalization have also featured prominently in the inequality literature in the global South. In particular, there is a large consensus about the impact of global economic trends as a precipitant of inequalities in urban Africa (Weatherspoon, Cacho & Christy 2001;Ibrahim 2013;Dollar 2001;Galbraith 2007Galbraith , 2010. According to this perspective, African countries and their counterparts in other less industrialized regions seem to be disproportionately affected by international economic changes which have cumulatively increased levels of poverty and inequalities (Prempeh 2017;Swinnen 2007;Verick 2006). For example, in the late 1970s, South Africa experienced a shift from industrialization based on import-substitution to export-led growth due largely to international market forces and local factors (Beall, Crankshaw & Parnell 2000). This development however neither halted the decline of the manufacturing industry nor stemmed the country's generally poor economic performance at the time in any real sense. Around this period, and perhaps ever since, the country's primary and secondary sectors of agriculture, manufacturing and mining have witnessed steady decline in levels of employment whereas the service sectors of government and finance have been thriving. In a sense, South Africa reflects the de-industrialization and social polarization patterns seen in more advanced industrialized countries but with a comparatively higher unemployment rate estimated at about 30 per cent. These high rates of unemployment have a strong racial dimension. Demographically, most unemployed South Africans are Black Africans. Because they are the least educated, they are the ones worst affected by the shrinking of the manufacturing sector (Beall, Crankshaw & Parnell 2000, p. 110). The case of urban India follows a similar pattern.
From the 1980s and early 1990s, urban India started experiencing serious wage inequality mainly due to rapid increase in demand for skill labour as a result of 'skill-biased technological changes within industries' (Kijima 2006, p. 97).
Though the social polarization and the mismatch theories have been used somewhat universally, there is some criticism of this universalist tendency and a call for a more situated African urbanism (Lawhon, Ernstson & Silver 2014). Based on this, a substantial body of scholarly works on urban inequalities in Africa have their basis in the postcolonial tradition (Penvenne 1995;Lloyd 1974;Myers 2010). This perspective emphasizes the enduring aftereffect of colonialism (Miraftab 2012). For example, Dill & Crow (2014) trace inequality in the access to water in urban East Africa to the segregationist colonial policy. They maintain that while access to water is a major problem for most residents of Dar es Salaam and Nairobi, the problem is more acute in the informal quarters that have their origin in the colonial period. They however conclude that though rooted in colonial rule, lack of access of water is exacerbated by contemporary discriminatory land policies and other complications. Similarly, in chronicling the difficulties facing post-apartheid Johannesburg's metropolitan government in terms of high levels of poverty, unemployment and inequality, Beall, Crankshaw and Parnell (2000) point to the enduring socio-spatial legacy of apartheid in the form of poor quality housing, deprivation and inadequate basic amenities in former black townships.
In the same vein, most inequalities in contemporary urban Nigeria have their basis in the country's colonial history (Ukiwo 2005;Mustapha 1986). Before amalgamating the Northern and South Protectorates, the colonial government ran the two as separate administrative entities each according to a distinct set of policies. The South had a head start in Western education because of its proximity to the coast and encountering westerners much earlier than the north through the trans-Atlantic trade (Fafunwa 2018; Davis & Kalu-Nwiwu 2001). The north, which had been in touch with North Africa and the Middle East, only had Islamic schools (Lovejoy 1979). Though this educational disparity was incidental at an initial point, it became a matter of political expedience for the colonial administration after it amalgamated the two protectorates into a sovereign entity. The southern Nigerian educated elite had by this time become politically active and a source of concern for the colonial administration (Falola & Heaton 2008;Afigbo 1991). To prevent a similar development, western education was stalled in the north as a matter of policy (Umar 2006;Mustapha 1986).
While crucially relevant, the postcolonial literature sometimes overstates the legacy of colonialism and obscures our understanding of other equally important factors that could be at play. Here, we suggest an approach that acknowledges all the prevailing factors considered in the existing literature including the colonial legacy but we pay particular attention to contemporary issues. Along this line of thought, for instance, we reflect on the enduring effects of colonialism not as scaffolding but as a dimension that interacts with a host of other contemporary factors, including global economic trends, formal and informal institutions, everyday practices and the ever-changing contours of local ethnic politics and power relations.

Urban inequalities and group politics in Amsterdam
Amsterdam provides a robust case for studying immigrant political mobilization because the Netherlands' electoral system gives the option to cast preferential votes for individual candidates, which makes the already diverse capital city especially open to minority political participation. The main minority groups in the city include the Turkish, Moroccan, and Surinamese communities, each of which has distinct characteristics. We have chosen to focus on the Turkish community because it has a rich collection of civic networks and its levels of political participation is considerably higher than the other immigrant groups that can be used for political mobilization (Vermeulen 2006;. As the largest Dutch city, Amsterdam is one of the most diverse in terms of racial, religious and class categories in the country. Increasing disparities in levels of wealth, education, employment, housing, health and civic capacity tend to manifest along group boundaries across two main divides -the non-immigrants and immigrant communities, here referring to first and second generation immigrants. The inequalities in the different social domains are often strongly correlated and lead to structural intergenerational inequalities. For instance, the relative high level of unemployment among immigrants is a reflection of lower education levels that characterize areas with high percentages of immigrants in the city (Vermeulen 2019, p. 119). But it is also attributed to other factors such as differences in social capital among minority groups (Tillie 2004). Global economic trends have been shown to play a major role in driving inequalities in employment in the city (Van der Waal & Burgers 2009). Kloosterman (1996) observes that this polarization in Amsterdam is partly driven by globalization and the expansion of producer and consumer services, contraction of manufacturing and the shifts in earnings distribution it warranted. These levels of inequality remain relatively significant today as Amsterdam is much more international now than twenty-five years ago and levels of inequality remain relatively significant. It should however be pointed out that the city is wealthier now and average income has increased for the entire population including immigrants 2 .
Beyond education and employment, inequalities also penetrate the domain of state policing. For example, a system of targeting particular places and persons by local police forces results in the production significant inequalities among youths with immigrant background in Amsterdam (Van der Leun and Van der Woude 2011; De Koning 2017). Similar trends can also be found in recent local counterterrorism measures creating suspect communities of inhabitants of especially Muslim background (Vermeulen 2014(Vermeulen , 2016. In terms of civic and political inequalities we find similar patterns in Amsterdam. Neighbourhoods with higher percentages of immigrants display on average lower densities of social organizations, making it more difficult for inhabitants of these neighbourhoods to fully participate in civic life (Vermeulen, Tillie & van de Walle 2012). Even though since 1985, immigrants with residence permits or those that have lived in the Netherlands for five years are allowed voting rights, levels of participation in local elections remain very low among a large majority of immigrants. So also, in the civic and political realm we find stark inequalities in Amsterdam in which the distinction between immigrants and non-immigrants are very relevant (Kranendonk, Vermeulen & van Heelsum 2018).
The main question of Lee (2007) in such circumstances of group inequalities is whether individuals who share a demographic label will also share common political goals and interests and act in concert to pursue them. To answer this question for the Amsterdam context in a brief manner, we need to focus on first and second generation immigrants of Turkish origin. This immigrant community meets the requirement of what Breton (1964) once labelled 'institutional completeness'. An immigrant community can be considered institutionally complete when separate immigrant organizations can provide most social and civic services for the community themselves. Within such institutionally complete communities we tend to find stronger identity-to-politics links as described by Lee, because within these communities members have a stronger sense of common belonging and common interests. We will briefly describe the elements of the Turkish community in Amsterdam and explain how the opportunity structure of the city produced particular outcomes and ways for Turkish and other predominantly Muslim immigrants to pursue certain interests in particular venues. Lee (2007) argues that the link between identity and politics varies across contexts and groups. Amsterdam, on average, provides a favourable political context for immigrant groups' political engagement and representation. Elections occur through a party list system, with pure proportionality and very low thresholds. Parties submit lists of candidates, and seats are allocated to each party in proportion to the number of votes. It is possible to cast preferential votes, which means that on the day of election, voters not only choose a party, but also a specific candidate from the party. Each party predetermines the candidate list order, though voters can select a candidate ranked anywhere on the list. And, as mentioned, the Netherlands began in 1985 allowing non-citizens to participate in local elections after five years of legal residence in the country. It is not even necessary to register as a voter; the municipal administration automatically mails voter registration cards to all entitled inhabitants (Michon & Vermeulen 2013). This means that in theory a group-based political strategy in which there is a strong correlation between identity and politics is possible. It depends on particular elements of immigrant groups to take advantage of these opportunities.
The Turkish community in Amsterdam is characterized by strong ideological polarization between religious and secular groups, different ethnic subgroups, and various religious denominations; at the same time, a majority of members strongly identifies with national origin. Turks have also formed the most immigrant organizations in Amsterdam and are densely connected through inter-organizational networks (Vermeulen 2013). Despite the ideological differences, as noted earlier, at least 85 percent of the members of the Turkish community identify as Muslims (Huijnk 2018, p. 30). They are significantly more often members of an immigrant organization than other immigrant groups are (Vermeulen, Michon & Tillie 2014). These networks and organizations provide the Turkish community the opportunity to mobilize and activate a large part of its population during elections. This leads to higher turn-out rates, a larger percentage of voters voting for a co-ethnic candidate, which leads over time to higher levels of representation in the Amsterdam city council compared to any other immigrant group in the city.
However, at the same time, mainstream political parties became in the last years more cautious and also less receptive to the claims and ideas of politicians of Turkish background, especially if these politicians have strong links with immigrant communities (Vermeulen 2013). In short, the Turkish community in Amsterdam did take advantage of the Amsterdam opportunity structure, which resulted in high levels of civic and political participation, which in turn resulted in high levels of political representation. For many Turkish immigrants in Amsterdam, their demographic label led to shared common political goals and interests that led them to vote in disproportionally high numbers for co-ethnic candidates. This immigrant representation did not lead to political influence. Influential political positions did not go to candidates with Turkish backgrounds. These positions went mostly to politicians without an immigrant background or to politicians with an immigrant background, but other than Turkish. This was to make sure that executive positions were not held by politicians with a strong link to a particular immigrant community (Vermeulen 2013).
The Turkish community has displayed this strong sense of community since the nineties and their organizations have played similarly an important role in local politics (Fennema and Tillie 1999). This has translated into the emergence in 2016 of a successful political party, Denk -a word that means "think" in Dutch and "equal" in Turkish. The party represents the interests of immigrants, especially those of Muslim background -the group that has suffered most from different forms of inequality in Amsterdam (Vermeulen 2019). This success cannot be understood without taking into account the focus in the Dutch political debate, just as in many other European countries, on religion and Islam in particular (see also Brubaker 2017). In these debates, politicians, and not only right-wing populists, have argued that Muslim immigrants do not share the liberal values of Dutch society and that they took advantage of the open political context to live their separate lives, to nurture their illiberal ideologies and develop their own religious institutions (Vermeulen 2019). Muslim immigrants across Europe, including the Netherlands, are categorized and have been stigmatized by this discourse on a daily basis, exacerbating existing suspicion, discrimination and isolation. This led to a stronger sense of belonging among Muslims in Amsterdam and a sense that they as a group displayed common interests. In other words, social economic inequalities that persisted since the arrival in Amsterdam of first generation Muslim immigrants in the seventies and eighties did not lead to a stronger sense of common political goals among this group; the stigmatization as conservative Muslims, a category that was reinforced externally by the discourse, in a rather secular context, did. The absence of political influence among Muslim groups became an issue, more than before, because particular political decisions concerning religious issues became more pertinent and pressing, such as a possible ban on ritual slaughtering, or the possible curtailing of Islamic religious education that was protected and made possible by the Dutch constitution. This led individuals who self-identify as Muslims also to increasingly share common beliefs and interests. These particular interests could no longer be represented by the secular progressive mainstream parties, especially Labour Party, that they used to support. These progressive secular parties through the political focus on Islam had taken over part of the discourse that problematized conservative Muslims. A new party that represented the specific interests of Muslims was needed and the emergence of DENK can be seen in light of this wish. Politicians of Turkish background with strong links to the conservative and active part of the Islamic Turkish community took a leading role in this party (Vermeulen 2019).
For Amsterdam we can argue that increasing group inequality in itself did not directly lead to a stronger link between identity and politics. Stigmatization and external categorization as conservative Muslims in a rather secular progressive context did increase this link. The relatively open Amsterdam political system for minority representation in combination with the mobilizing capacity of the Turkish Muslim community led to the electoral success of a new party, DENK, that represents the interest of this particular group. The group ends were pursued through political parliamentary means, providing a party in the Dutch Parliament and in the Amsterdam council fiercely resisting the discourse that Islam presents a problem for Amsterdam or Dutch society. The party argues that the political focus should not be on religion but instead on the different forms of inequality, social, economic and political, that immigrants of Muslim background are subjected to (see Foner & Alba 2008;Verkuyten 2017). Paradoxically, they do this by emphasizing and mobilizing support through a Muslim identity that also reinforces the idea that a Muslim background leads to common goals and political interests.

Urban inequalities and group politics in Jos
As noted earlier, in relation to Jos, urban inequality is understood on the basis of two distinct identity classifications: indigenes and non-indigenes. Though these terms do not correspond to non-immigrants and immigrants in an exact sense as in the case of Amsterdam, they are Jos' nearest equivalents that can provide us with the distinguishable social categorisations that define access to material and non-material resources. That said, the terms nonimmigrants and immigrants to some extent are applicable and not farfetched in relation to Jos when the import of indigenes and non-indigenes is considered. This is because non-indigenes as a label refers to groups that migrated and settled in another part of the country other than their patrilocal origins. In other words, non-indigenes, otherwise known as 'settlers' in Nigeria, are intrastate immigrants. As noted, this of course does not correspond with the case of immigrants in Amsterdam but it provides us with a reasonably similar scenario for exploring urban inequalities and the dynamics of group politics. Intrastate immigrants, nonindigenes or settlers as they are variously called are subjected to significant inequalities reminiscent of immigrants in Amsterdam. Non-immigrants or indigenes are generally considered either autochthonous or the first people to make their home in a particular patrilocal community whereas non-indigenes are populations that migrated from another part of the country relatively more recently. To be categorically clear, both indigenes and nonindigenes are citizens, however, the former have access to material and nonmaterial resources usually denied the latter (Sayne 2012). A certificate is issued by local government officials confirming that the bearer is from a particular village, local government and state (Fourchard 2015). Though this dichotomy has its roots in colonial policy, it has renewed salience in contemporary Nigeria because it is used as basis for including and excluding individuals and groups from partaking in distributable goods (Higazi 2007;Madueke 2019).
To start with, immigrants or non-indigenes, if you like, are discriminated against in the distribution of appointable political positions such as ministerial offices, heads of parastatals and agencies and advisers and special assistants to governors and parliamentary representatives. These positions of influence are considered the exclusive reserve of indigenes. Apart from political appointments, employment into the state civil service is also discriminatory. Before being employed or appointed into certain positions, individuals are required to present their indigene certificates (Kendhammer 2014;Adamolekun, Erero & Oshionebo 1991). Moreover, non-immigrants are also given priority over immigrants in admissions into tertiary institutions. Further, university students that are indigenes have access to scholarship and bursaries that are closed to those deemed non-indigenes.
Among groups labelled as immigrants in Jos, the Hausa warrants special attention. This is because apart from having institutional completeness like the Turkish community in Amsterdam, it is the only group in Jos that has contested the non-indigene label and lay claim to non-immigrant or indigene status with all the accruable rights and privileges enjoyed by the indigenes (Madueke 2019;Madueke & Vermeulen 2018). Also, members of the Hausa community in Jos have been more politically active than other immigrant groups such as the Igbo and Yoruba. To unpack identity politics among the Hausa in Jos, we turn to Lee's (2008) explanatory model of the identity-to-politics link. According to this framework, this link is characterised by definition, identification, consciousness, venue selection, and choice. We start by considering identification in terms of the extent to which individuals accept the categories they are placed in. To start with, though generally conceived as homogenous, the Hausa in Jos is more of social category with internal diversity than an ethnic group. It is made up of the descendants of Hausa, Fulani, Kanuri, Beriberi, Nupe and other less known ethnicities who have adopted the Hausa language and way of life and practice Islam as a shared religious identity. For example, the Fulani have on several occasions come out to identify themselves as a distinct group not to be subsumed under the Hausa category.
Moreover, there are factions within the Hausa community in Jos such as Hausa-Fulani Community Development (HFCD) that do not seek to access the indigene rights. Besides this internal diversity, there is a discrepancy between how the Hausa are labelled and how they self-identify. In rejecting the label of settlers, the Hausa in Jos distinguish themselves from the Hausa population in the country's northern region where their ancestors migrated from a century ago and stress their affinity to Jos by self-identifying as 'Jasawa', a coinage meant to denote their 'hausaness' and 'josness' at the same time. This illustrates the relevance of differentiating between ascriptive identification (how groups are defined and labeled as distinct from how they view and define themselves) and self-identification (how individuals think of and identify themselves) as noted by Lee (2008).
The 1990s mark a pivotal moment in the politicization of the Hausa identity in Jos. Certain developments took place during this period that entrenched group consciousness, solidarity and, consequently, intensified political participation among the Hausa of Jos. The first was the creation of Jos North local government area (LGA) in 1991 by the Ibrahim Babaginda military government. Prior to the creation of the new LGA, a group of indigenes known as the Berom Elders Council wrote to both Babangida and the military governor of Plateau State at the time requesting for the creation of Jos Metropolitan LGA out of Jos LGA. The Hausa-Fulani community also wrote a letter to the President asking for the creation of a new LGA from Jos LGA. Based on the boundaries of the proposed LGAs, it was impossible to create both. On 30th September 1991, the federal military government announced the formal creation of Jos North LGA with boundaries exactly where the Hausa had suggested. The indigenes tried to get the administration to review the boundaries but their efforts did not yield any meaningful response. The general feeling among the Hausa was that they finally had an LGA they could call their own, therefore, the next goal was to assert and consolidate political dominance. One way to do this was to ensure a member of the Hausa community emerged as the LGA chairman. There was therefore massive campaigns and mobilization to make this a reality. The efforts paid off and a Hausa, Sama'ila Mohammed, won the Chairmanship elections. This victory was indicative of the high levels of group consciousness and political participation among the Hausa (Madueke 2018a(Madueke , 2019. A series of controversial and contested appointments further politicized the Jasawa as a social category. The first incident was the appointment of one Hausa, Aminu Mato, as Sole Administrator of Jos North LGA by the then military governor of Plateau State in April 1994. The appointment was later reversed after a series of protests by the indigenes (Madueke 2019). A large number of Hausa protesters took to the streets to register their dissatisfaction with the reversal of the appointment. The protest soon were out of hand leading to violent clashes between members of the two groups. Two years later, in 1996, the indigenes protested against the nomination of a Hausa man, Ado Ibrahim, for the position of Secretary for the local government council. The governor was quick to reverse the decision once he noticed the indigenes were strongly against it. Following these events, Nigeria's return to democracy in 1999 after decades of military rule intensified intergroup competition and further engendered group consciousness and solidarity among the Hausa. The divisive rhetoric that characterized the campaigns for the 1999 elections contributed to deepening group consciousness among both indigenes and the Hausa (Madueke 2018b(Madueke , 2019. Despite massive campaigns and mobilization, the Hausa lost out in the elections and an indigene emerged the local government council chairman. By the turn of the century, Hausa was a highly politicized social category. The appointment of a Hausa man as coordinator for a federal government poverty alleviation scheme in July 2001 resulted in confrontational exchanges between the indigenes and Hausa, which culminated in major violent riots less than two months later in early September (Madueke 2019). This violent outcome results from a relatively unregulated political space dominated by weak and informal institutions and signifies a key difference between Jos and Amsterdam (see Table below). One of the key steps in Lee's model is venue selection. The question here is whether individuals who choose to act in pursuit of group-based interests coordinate and agree upon a common venue for their collective action. This idea has particular importance for the case of Jos because though the indigenes and the Hausa have prominently engaged in political mobilization and electoral campaigns, they have also deployed violent action in pursuit of their interests and goals (Madueke 2019(Madueke , 2018c. We identify two mechanisms to explain why this is so. First, we suggest that local politics in Jos operates on a winner-takes-all basis. Groups that wield political power ensure that groups that are perceived as rivals are excluded in totality. For example, the conventional practice is that when an individual is elected or appointed as LGA Chairman, that person immediately appoints his co-ethnics as members of his or her cabinet. This is indicative of the absence of a local power-sharing arrangement, a factor that has been identified as one of the underlying causes of violent conflict in Jos (Bunte & Vinson 2015). Second, violence is considered a necessary option because the political system is usually rigged by whoever is in power. Electoral bodies are largely financed and controlled by those in government and therefore lack the needed autonomy and independence to coordinate a free and fair electoral process. The judiciary and electoral tribunals are also compromised. Thus, aggrieved individuals and groups who are not satisfied with the outcome of an election feel they have no recourse to justice. Violence then becomes the main channel for expressing dissatisfaction and venting against the system and members of the rival group. The controversial 2008 Jos North LGA elections illustrates this. After a controversial change in the venue for collating votes by the electoral commission, supporters of the Hausa candidate became suspicious and started a series of violent protests even before the result was announced. The Hausa felt Jonah Jang, the governor of Plateau State at the time, an indigene and a devout Christian, had used his influence to rig the elections in favour of his kinsman (Madueke 2018a;Ostien 2009).

Dimensions of diversity, inequalities and politics in Amsterdam and Jos
The issue of indigene status is contentious not least because the very concept is illdefined and the process for issuing certificates is shoddy. The Nigerian constitution defines an indigene in an arbitrary manner. Who qualifies as indigene and who does not is prone to misinterpretations, both deliberate and otherwise. Left at the discretion of local government authorities, the decision of who qualifies as indigene and the issuing of certificates is usually subjected to abuse and corruption (Fourchard 2015). Whoever controls the local government council decides the criteria for being an indigene and by implication who ends up with a certificate and who does not. For example, when a Hausa man emerged Chairman in 1991, he indiscriminately issued indigene certificates to members of the Hausa community. In 1999, an indigene emerged chairman and immediately stopped the issuance of indigene certificates to members of the Hausa community. Because the individual that heads the local government council can expressly change the criteria for indigene status, the position of the LGA chairman in Jos is usually hotly contested and a source of conflict and violence between indigenes and the Hausa.

Conclusion
This article focused on the intersection between diversity, urban inequalities, group politics and conflict in Amsterdam and Jos. Specifically, we explored how these factors interact in an advanced democratic setting dominated by formal institutions and an emergent democracy where informal institutions are relatively more prevalent. We also paid attention to the identity-to-politics link among non-immigrants and immigrant communities in Amsterdam and indigenes and settlers in Jos. This conclusion further highlights and discusses some noteworthy aspects of the findings.
To start with, in terms of diversity, there is a strong overlap of two or more identity markers that define migrant groups in both cases. Amsterdam's Turkish migrants are distinguishable on the basis of national origin, race and religion. Hausa migrants are distinct from the indigenes in terms of ethnic, religious and regional identity. In combination, these overlapping identity markers reify and further concretize group differences. However, whereas diversity in Amsterdam is conceptualized in terms of country of origin and, consequently, racial differences, the term is framed along ethnic and religious lines in the case of Jos. In the case of Amsterdam, inequalities in education, employment, civic participation and other spheres are driven by global economic trends that have differential effects on non-immigrants and immigrant communities. However, cultural and linguistic factors as well as local policy also play a role, especially in placing immigrants in a position of disadvantage in both education and employment.
While both cases harbour inequalities minority struggles play out differently. Because Amsterdam's political space is well-regulated and dominated by strong formal institutions, immigrant groups channel their grievances through bureaucracies that do not lead to immediate or concrete changes. While dealing with urban inequalities, migrant groups from predominantly Muslim destinations such as Turkish migrants are confronted by a growing anti-Muslim discourse. It is this anti-Muslim sentiment, perhaps arguably more than the longstanding inequalities but certainly not unrelated, that have spurred them to collective political action. With limited options for seeking change, they have been compelled to organise themselves into political parties like Denk that can guarantee them a place in decision making.
In Jos the (mis)management of diversity and urban inequalities are characterized by illdefined policy and ascribed identity markers that discriminate between indigenes and non-indigenes. Though both groups are citizens of Nigeria, indigenes have access to distributable resources that are inaccessible to non-indigenes. The impact of global economic trends on patterns of inequalities in Jos cannot be entirely written off, however, such an impact is not immediately obvious at the local level. These factors thrive in a social environment dominated by informal and weak institutions. State security enforcement agencies, the judiciary and election commissions are either incompetent or partisan and lack public trust. Most times electoral results are rigged in favour of the ruling party. Groups therefore easily resort to self-help in the form of violent collective action in pursuing their objectives.
Contentious group politics have therefore resulted in several episodes of violent clashes in Jos over the last twenty years. In the case of Amsterdam, it remains to be seen whether formal political strategies are in the end proved useful. A pertinent question to ask is what will happen if political strategies are no longer seen as productive? A key factor in this process most likely is the overlap between group level inequalities and perceived common interests. The stronger the overlap and the less useful conventional political channels are perceived to be (as in the case of Jos), the more we can expect violent reactions.
It is generally believed that why diversity does not translate into conflict and violence in advanced democracies is because, among other things, they are more egalitarian. In this article, we have shown through the example of Amsterdam that indeed migrant groups are at the receiving end of longstanding inequalities, fuelled by the differential effects of global trends but also by local politics and discriminatory policy. These have not translated into major incidents of violence because there are strong institutions that regulate the political space and check group excesses. This insight has important implications for cities like Jos where efforts aimed at preventing or responding to violent conflicts mainly focus on restoring order without paying attention to the institutional environment where they occur.
Lastly, while the global city, social polarization and the mismatch theories provide us with important insights on urban inequalities in the advanced democracies of the West, these models do not account for the peculiarities of non-Western cities. Based on its colonial history, poor infrastructure and predominantly informal temperament, Jos is the archetypical African city. Though -as illustrated -still subject to global economic trends, this urban context is most vulnerable to conflicts and tensions rooted in its colonial history. An integrative framework that brings together cities from radically different cultural, political and historical backgrounds such as the one we have attempted here can serve to initiate a more inclusive discourse of urban politics and inequalities.