Ravenswood

I was very excited to receive in the mail this week all of the books and syllabi for my first courses at the U-Mass Labor Studies program. I’m taking Labor Law, with Harris Freeman, and Labor Research, with Tom Juravich. I decided to start lightly with “Ravenswood: The Steelworkers’ Victory and the Revival of American Labor,” which Juravich co-wrote with Kate Bronfenbrenner, and which is included in the syllabus for the Labor Research course mostly, I assume, to add color to the discussion.

Ravenswood was an early 90’s lock-out at an aluminum processing plant of which I had never previously heard. Juravich and Bronfenbrenner argue that this little-remembered labor struggle presaged the revitalization of the labor movement experienced later in the decade, and represented the first time that American unions successfully combined a labor action with a corporate campaign, boycotts and international solidarity; a recipe for what they differentiate from mere corporate campaigns as a “strategic campaign.”

Located in West Virginia, the Ravenswood plant had been a part of the Kaiser Aluminum corporation until leveraged buy-outs, asset spin-offs, restructuring and other corporate shell games in the 1980’s produced an independent Ravenswood Aluminum Corporation, seemingly owned by a former plant manager with a chip on his shoulder and a clear agenda of union-busting. The new owners combined jobs, forced overtime and cut back on safety regulation, resulting in several deaths inside the plant. When the contract came up for renewal, management proposed austerity cuts and stalled the negotiations, while spending millions on new security and scab recruitment. When the contract expired, management rejected the union’s offer to continue working under the terms of the old contract pending a new agreement, and instead locked out 1700 union workers.

The workers at USWA Local 5668 held strong, but it was several months before the Steelworkers’ international union got directly involved in the campaign, which ultimately lasted two years. International Vice President George Becker personally took over the campaign and directed his legal staff salvage the local’s paper-thin and sure-to-be-rejected unfair labor practice charges with the NLRB.

Juravich and Bronfenbrenner narrate the book as an interesting chronological story that anyone could enjoy, but any union staffer reading the early chapters is keeping mental score of all of management’s ULPs – including surveillance and retaliation for union activity, refusal to bargain over health and safety (a mandatory subject of bargaining), general surface bargaining, unilateral implementation of a final offer and an illegal lock-out – knowing that management’s goof-ups mean that the workers have a right to get their jobs back with massive back-pay!

USWA’s intervention in 5668’s ULP case is presented as a bit of great luck, when, in fact, the question should be asked, “Where the heck were they earlier?” Fifteen years later, any union that’s serious about winning has a sophisticated program of cataloguing grievances and management activities in order to identify multiple violations of federal labor law that will protect and enhance the union’s own activities.

Elsewhere, the USWA is more inventive in pressing the campaign of the workers’ lock-out. They create an “end-users” campaign that focuses on the beverage companies who utilize aluminum cans from the Ravenwood plant and, carefully skirting the ban on secondary boycotts, pick away at Ravenswood’s significant customers, one by one. They press health and safety issues at the plant with OSHA. They join environmental coalitions in highlighting the plant’s pollution.

The Steelworkers also press a corporate campaign against Marc Rich, the billionaire investor, on the lam from the U.S. for tax evasion and illegal arms sales to Iran, who, through shadow entities is the true owner of Ravenswood. With much assistance from the international federations (global umbrella groups of international unions – mostly European and North American – that are slowly becoming labor’s answer to the trans-national corporation) engage in demonstrations and lobbying that bring unfavorable press to Rich at his Swiss hideout and sink several lucrative financial deals.

Ultimately, the pressure works. Rich ousts the management team at Ravenswood. All of the locked-out workers get their jobs back. Pay and pensions increase. The plant remains open.

George Becker goes on to become President of the USWA. Richard Trumka, who directed his union’s (the Mineworkers) support becomes Secretary-Treasurer of the AFL-CIO. Many of the tactics used at Ravenswood have become ubiquitous in the labor movement. They’re not always successful, but a strategic campaign, focused on leverage and soft spots, combined with a united workforce is more often successful than not.

Of course, then again, management has gotten a lot more sophisticated in the last fifteen years and rookie mistakes as the initial Ravenswood management team made are fewer and farther between.

Black Tuesday

I need to remind myself that I am not a professional journalist. I am, help me, a “blogger” with no cover and no paycheck. I need to write for an imagined audience that includes all my friends, comrades, neighbors, family and girlfriends (past, present and future) as well as all of my employers, past and prospective.

I’d like to offer all of my opinions on Tuesday’s “restructuring” of the AFL-CIO that closed and merge departments and laid-off a third of the federation’s staff, but I’d like even more to work in the labor movement again. So, I’m just going to offer a few links. Jonathan Tasini has a lot of inside information of how the news went down at 16th Street. American Prospect has a good piece by Harold Myerson on the politics of the cuts. And, as always, the Unite To Win blog has all those anonymous staffers slugging it out.

I’ve been looking for work for six months, and now I’m going to be joined by 167 experienced union staffers, while the whole movement seems to hold its breath, waiting for the outcome of the federation’s convention in July.

It’s very frustrating. All I want is to be a part of a growing, fighting union. I want to take on Wal-Mart. I want to take on Bloomberg and Pataki. I want to take on Sodexho, Aramark and Cintas. I want to get off of the dole, already!

Speaking of Wal-Mart, I’m organizing a few people to help the Wal-Mart Free NYC Coalition leaflet at the Staten Island ferry during rush hour on Thursday. Let me know if you can join us.

Finally, for your amusement, a picture of the YPSL contingent at Sunday’s No Nuke rally.

Get Back In Line

Today is May Day, the international holiday of the working class, a celebration of our labor unions and our rich history of struggle. I marched, along with 40,000 comrades, past the United Nations, across 42nd street and back up 6th avenue to Central Park for nuclear abolition and an end to the war in Iraq.

Back home, spinning a Kinks CD, I am inexplicably drawn to an anti-union song, “Get Back In Line.” Ray Davies, the lead singer and chief songwriter of the Kinks, is a curmudgeon. He’s also one of the greatest songwriters of the rock-n-roll era. He infuses his songs with a dry wit and clever character studies, as well as a supernatural sense of melody, that all his songs are likable, even when he’s bashing socialism or criticizing labor unions.

Back in 1964, in the first great wave of the “British Invasion,” the Kinks scored a #1 hit on both sides of the Atlantic with “You Really Got Me,” an infectious rave-up that employs the first integral use of feedback in a rock song. The Kinks were stars, but they were denied the opportunity to tour America while all of their compatriots were making the Ed Sullivan Show their first stop in lucrative and career-enhancing tour of the states. The exact reason for the Kinks Ban is murky. It had something to do with Ray’s tendency to get into fist fights on stage with his brother Dave. Many, Ray Davies chief among them, blame the American Federation of Musicians for banning the Kinks from America.

I find it hard to believe that the union ever had the kind of power to singlehandedly prevent famous rockstars from touring. They certainly don’t have that power now. My friend Elana works for Local 802 AFM now, and she is investigating this mystery.

Whatever kept the Kinks out of the US, it ultimately enhanced their art and helped define their career. While the Beatles and Rolling Stones were getting sick of playing concerts for arenas full of American girls whose screaming drowned out their music (both eventually quit touring for much of the 60’s), the Kinks were embracing their distinct Britishness.

Davies wrote about Carnaby Street fops, English pubs, the Waterloo train station, village greens, holidays in Germany, English music halls – all are rather alien to American teenagers. By 1967’s “Summer of Love,” the Kinks’ new album was extolling the virtues of “little shops, china cups and virginity” (That record, “The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society” sounds much more timeless than the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper”).

In 1970, Davies wrote the song “Get Back In Line.” Although the yearning ballad is a poetic imagining of a union hiring hall, the clear subtext is that it’s Davies’ shot at the Musicians union in America.

The lyrics, quoted in whole, are:


Facing the world ain’t easy when there isn’t anything going
Standing at the corner waiting watching time go by
Will I go to work today or shall I bide my time
‘Cos when I see that union man walking down the street
He’s the man who decides if I live or I die, if I starve, or I eat
Then he walks up to me and the sun begins to shine
Then he walks right past and I know that I’ve got to get back in the line
Now I think of what my mamma told me
She always said that it would never ever work out
But all I want to do is make some money
And bring you home some wine
For I don’t ever want you to see me
Standing in that line
‘Cause that union man’s got such a hold over me
He’s the man who decides if I live or I die, if I starve, or I eat
Then he walks up to me and the sun begins to shine
Then he walks right past and I know that I’ve got to get back in the line

It’s a beautiful, heartbreaking song, even if it is an ugly shot at unions. It took me a long time to appreciate this song. In fact, it was only recently, finding myself in a similarly powerless situation as the song’s protagonist, that I recognized the song’s meaning for what it was: championing a little guy’s survival from forces that are frequently beyond his control. It’s a standard theme of Ray Davies’ writing, and it’s not so curmudgeonly now that I think about it.

What’s the Frequency, Leslie?

The Writers Guild of America, East, has been without a contract with the major networks since the first of April. The networks are demanding concessions in wages and work rules. The union will be staging a lunchtime rally in front of the CBS Broadcast Center (located at 524 West 57th Street) next Wednesday, the 27th of April, from 1:00 until 2:00.

If you are free, you should go, not only because you support union workers but because you demand quality television. You do realize that this whole “reality” television craze is just a union-busting strategy, don’t you? Not only are there no writers (hence, no writers union), but the editors are not covered by that union’s contract and most of the on-location crews are non-union, too!

Go to the rally as “concerned viewers for quality television.” Bring
signs: “Sick of Survivor!” “No More ‘Reality’ Give Us Fantasy!”