Unions vs. Workers in the
Seventies:
The Rise of Militancy in the Auto
Industry
Martin Glaberman
First published in Society,
November-December 1972.
Republished in Martin Glaberman, The Working Class and
Social Change (pamphlet), 1975 - thanks to endpage.
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On the morning of July 16, 1970 the Detroit Free
Press featured on its front page a large picture of General
Motors Vice President Earl Bramblett and UAW President Leonard Woodcock
shaking hands as they opened negotiations for a new contract. The
headline beneath the picture read: Negotiations Begin; Auto Talk
Key: Living Costs.
The banner headline that morning, overshadowing the ritual start of
negotiations, was: Ousted Worker Kills Three in Chrysler Plant
Shooting; 2 Foremen, Bystander Are Slain. A black worker at
Chrysler’s Eldon Avenue Axle Plant, suspended for insubordination, had
killed two foremen (one black, one white) and a Polish setup man.
The timing of the events, was coincidental – but it was the kind of
coincidence that lends a special insight. What is at issue – not only in
the auto negotiations but in most relations involving workers, unions
and management – is not living costs but living. Involved is
not just dollars and cents, important as always to workers, but an
entire way of life.
Take a close look at the union’s demands.
The UAW left out only one thing: the demand to turn the plants over
to the workers. Apart from the usual wage increases and financial
improvements, some of the issues raised by the UAW bargaining teams
included: pensions after 30 years instead of after a specific age;
restoration of the escalator cost-of-living clause to its original form;
ending time clocks and putting production workers on salary; inverting
seniority so that older workers could take the time off at nearly full
pay in the event of layoffs; the problem of pollution, both in the
plants and in the community; changing production to deal with boredom on
the assembly line.
Many of these issues were raised purely for propaganda effect with
little intent to bargain seriously over them.
But taken as a whole, they provide an interesting picture that
reflects, if only in a distorted way, the extent of the worker’s concern
for the nature of his workplace.
A technique in bargaining developed by Walter Reuther and being
continued by Woodcock is the public show of militancy. It gives the
public appearance of great militancy but if means something very
different.
While the leadership of the union goes through the motions of
accepting all the workers’ demands and pressing them on the companies,
the tactic of publicly demanding almost everything that could be thought
of at the beginning of negotiations is intended to get the workers off
their backs and keep them quiet when the serious negotiating begins in
secret sessions. It leaves the union leadership free to work out any
settlement it thinks reasonable and to establish its own priorities in
the negotiations. The range of union demands in the negotiations also
reflects something else. It is a sign that unionism is reaching its
limit. Not because they will win so little, but because they will win so
much and it will prove to be so little.
It will not make the life of the black worker at the Eldon Avenue
plant of Chrysler or the white worker at the Chrysler plant in Windsor
one bit more tolerable.
That is one of the reasons that the union leadership has such a hard
time with the new generation of young workers in the plants. They tell
the workers about the great victories of the union in the past and what
it was like in open shop days.
They tell the truth-those were genuine victories. But they have
become transformed into their opposite by virtue of becoming
incorporated into contracts and the whole process of what is called
labor relations.
(Labor relations, it should be noted, has nothing to do with workers;
it has to do with relations between company representatives and union
representatives.)
The Detroit Free Press published the following
report in August 1970:
Some 46 percent of General Motors’ hourly workers are
below age 35. They have never known a depression, they have had more
schooling than the man who lived through the last one, and they aren’t
impressed by the old Spartan idea that hard, repetitive work is a
virtue. They are less responsive to authority than even the men who
seized the flint GM plants in the historic 1936-1937 sit-down strikes.
That is precisely the background against which discontent
is surfacing throughout the industry today, discontent that has reached
its most advanced stage in the auto industry.
The formation of the CIO in the 1930s settled once and for all the
idea that owners or managers or stockholders had the right to run their
plants any way they saw fit. Sit-downs, strikes, wildcats, direct
on-the-job action, sabotage and violence established the power of
workers in the plants. The tactics used and the extent of that power
varied from plant to plant and from industry to industry. Sabotage and
violence have long been a part of the auto industry. There were reports
of the murder or disappearance of foremen at the Ford Rouge plants in
the days before the union; the recent murder of two foremen at a
Chrysler plant is not an especially new development.
Other forms of sabotage are less severe but nonetheless effective. On
some assembly lines where the links are exposed, an occasional rest
period or slow down is achieved by the simple (and virtually
undetectable) tactic of putting the handle of a long open-end wrench
into the chain to shear the pin and stop the line. Sometimes the light
bulb that signals the line breakdown is unscrewed or broken so that an
extra few minutes are gained before the stoppage is discovered.
Not uncommon is the sabotage of the product. Sometimes this increases
the amount of the repair work coming off the lines. Sometimes this
saddles a customer with a built-in rattle in a high-priced car because
some worker welded a wrench or some bolts into a closed compartment.
The nature of violence and sabotage as a tool of workers provides an
insight into the problems caused by the extensive technological changes
of the past 20 years. Although generally called automation, something
else is involved: the first and basic reason for technological change is
the struggle against workers’ power by the, employers. Technological
advance is designed, directly or indirectly, to eliminate workers or to
make them more subservient to the machine. And most changes made in
plants are made solely to increase production rather than out of any
concern for the workers.
For example, Chrysler stamping operations are now centered in the
Sterling Township Stamping Plant, about 15 miles outside Detroit. The
plant now does, operations that were formerly done at the Dodge,
Plymouth and Chrysler plants.
Separating 4,000 or so workers from most of their fellows seriously
reduced the power and effectiveness of the workers. The shutting down of
old plants means that formal and informal organizations are broken up or
abandoned.
And it takes time for new relations and new organizations to be
worked out. Workers at Sterling have indicated that it took
approximately four years for the plant to be transformed from just an
accidental combination of workers to a relatively well organized and
disciplined force.
In the early days of the union the power of the workers could be
wielded more openly and more directly. Workers negotiated directly with
the’ lower levels of management and were able to settle things right on
the shop floor. How easily they were able to do this depended, of
course, on their relative strength and the nature of the technology
involved among other things.
As an example, the workers in the heat-treat department at the Buick
plant in Flint had an especially strong position.
One time, shortly after the union was established, they felt
themselves strongly aggrieved. But the early contracts did not rigidly
define the grievance procedure. So instead of locating the violated
clause and leaving their fate to a bureaucracy, they simply sent the
steward to see the general foreman.
Since their interest in this discussion was very great, they
accompanied the steward and stood around outside the foreman’s office
while the discussion was going on.
The time they picked for this meeting was just after they had loaded
a heat into the furnace. The heat was scheduled to emerge from the other
end of the furnace 20 minutes. later. If the heat was not pulled at that
time the damage to both the steel being treated and to the furnace
itself would have been irreparable.
In the early stages of the discussion the foreman was adamant. He
would not accede to the demands – “and you’d better get those guys back
to work.” As the minutes sped by, the foreman became less and less
adamant until, finally, with a couple of minutes left to go, he
capitulated. The steward then signaled the workers standing outside and
the heat was pulled.
That might be an extreme situation but it was not an unusual one.
Workers are very aware of how their jobs fit into the total process of
production.
To change the scale and to change the time: almost 30 years later,
during a wildcat at the Sterling Stamping Plant of the Chrysler
Corporation in 1969, the workers made clear their awareness of how their
plant fit into the scheduling of Chrysler plants in Detroit, Windsor,
St. Louis and elsewhere. They knew when and in what order the Sterling
strike would shut down other Chrysler plants. The knowledge of the
workers’ importance in the overall framework is both an instrument in
the day-to-day struggle and the essential basis for a new society.
The instinctive assertion of their own power on the shop floor that
workers managed in the thirties was extended in the forties when war
production requirements and the labor, shortage forced the government
and the corporations to make concessions to workers’ control. But that
was also the period during which the separation of workers from the
union structure began. The last major organizing success marks the turn
to bureaucracy.
When Ford fell to the union in 1941, both the check-off and full time
for union committeemen were incorporated into the contract. But the
apparent victories only created more problems. Workers wanted full time
for union representatives to get them out from under company pressures
and discrimination. Getting elected steward often got you the worst job
in a department and stuck away in a corner where you couldn’t see what
was happening.
But full time for stewards did more than relieve union
representatives from company pressure-it ended up by relieving
representatives from workers’ pressure. The steward is less available
than he was before, and you have to have your foreman go looking for him
should you happen to need him .
The check-off produced a similar situation. Designed to keep the
company from pressuring weaker workers to stay out of the union even
though they were sharing in its benefits, the check-off ended up
reducing worker pressure on the union officials.
No longer does the steward have to listen to workers’ complaints each
month as he goes round collecting the dues. Once a month the dues are
delivered in one huge check from the company to the union and the worker
never sees his dues payment.
World War II finished what the Ford contract had begun. The top
layers of the union leadership were incorporated into the government
boards and agencies that managed and controlled war production. In
return certain concessions were made in terms of union organization.
Union recognition was often arranged from above without the
participation of the workers in strike or other action. At this point in
time the lower levels of the union leadership were still pretty close to
the workers and very often local union officials participated in and
supported the numerous wildcat strikes that took place.
This process of bureaucratization was completed with Walter Reuther’s
victory and his substitution of the “one-party state” in control of the
union for the democratic kind of factionalism that had been the norm in
the UAW before.
And with the Reuther administration the union moved to
participate directly in the management and discipline of workers in
production. All through the fifties, with intensive automation and
decentralization going on in the auto industry, the union collaborated
in crushing the numerous wildcat strikes, in getting rid of the most
militant workers, in establishing labor peace in the industry.
In the other industrial unions the pace of bureaucratization was much
more advanced. In steel, for example, Phil Murray kept a tight and
undemocratic hold on the Steel Workers Organizing Committee until after
the basic contracts had been negotiated with United States Steel. It was
only then that the Organizing Committee appointed from the top was
replaced by an autonomous union which could vote on its own officers or
contracts. Any worker can illustrate the bureaucratic history of his own
union.
The grievance procedure became virtually worthless to the workers. In
1955 at the terminati6n of a contract presumably designed to provide a
grievance procedure, there were in some GM plants as many as 10,000
unresolved grievances.
The situation has not improved since then. GM complains that the
number of grievances in its plants has grown from 106,000 in 1960 to
256,000 in 1699 or 60 for each 100 workers.
What are these specific local grievances? They involve production
standards: the speed of a line, the rate on a machine, the number of
workers assigned to a given job, the allowable variations in jobs on a
given line. They involve health and safety standards : unsafe machines,
cluttered or oily floors, rates of production which prevent the taking
of reasonable precautions, the absence or misuse of hoists or cranes,
protection from flames or furnaces, protection from sharp, unfinished
metal, protection from welding or other dangerous chemicals or flames,
the right to shut an unsafe job down until the condition is changed.
They involve the quality of life in the plant: the authoritarian
company rules which treat workers like a combination of prison inmate
and kindergarten child, the right to move about the plant, the right to
relieve yourself physically without having to get the foreman’s
permission or the presence of a relief man, the right to reasonable
breaks in the work, the right to a reasonable level of heat in the
winter or reasonable ventilation in the summer. And on and on.
The grievances that crowd the dockets of General Motors and of other
companies cover the total range of life in the factory. The fact that
they are called grievances helps to conceal what they really are-a
reflection of the total dissatisfaction of the workers in the way
production is run and of the des ire of the workers to impose their own
will in the factory.
The UAW and the Ford Motor Company recently have been discussing the
problem of boredom on the assembly line. The only reason they are
discussing it at all-it is by no means a new development-is because more
and more workers are refusing to accept factory discipline as a law of
nature.
And it is not boredom but power which is at stake.
The same worker who for eight hours a day attaches belts to a motor
and can’t wait to get out of the plant will spend his weekends tinkering
with his car and consider it rewarding work. The difference is in who
controls the work.
It might be worth noting a couple of things. All workers are
exploited to one degree or another. But office workers on the whole do
not have to walk past armed guards going to and from work and have a
certain amount of freedom in scheduling their work on the job. The
coffee break is not a blue-collar institution.
It is clear that historically bosses never thought that workers would
work without the severest external discipline and control. And they
still don’t.
In addition, no matter what all the theoreticians of capitalism may
say, workers are treated very differently from anyone else. The
industrial Division of American Standard has a plant in Dearborn,
Michigan which manufactures industrial air conditioning. The company
places ads in trade journals urging employers to air condition their
facilities.
The office section of the facility is air conditioned. The plant is
not. The only thing that makes this situation unusual is that the
company manufactures the equipment. But even that isn’t enough to get
them to provide for blue-collar workers what office workers, engineers,
managers and professionals now take as a matter of course.
The reorganization, technological change and decentralization that
characterized the fifties and culminated in the depression gave way to a
new expansion which brought significant numbers of young workers into
the industry in the U.S. These are workers who couldn’t care less about
what the union won in 1937. They are not more backward (as the union
bureaucrats like to pretend) but more advanced. They are attuned to the
need to change the nature of work, to the need of human beings to find
satisfaction in what they do. It is this new and changing working class
that was the basis for the new level of wildcat strikes, for a doubled
rate of absenteeism, for an increased amount of violence in plants. It
is a new working class that no conceivable contract settlement can
control or immobilize. Both unions and industry are aware of their
problem to some degree. “The UAW believes,” says the Free Press,
“that a better-trained corps of union stewards would be better equipped
to cope with these issues and with gut plant problems like narcotics,
alcoholism, loan-sharking, weapon-packing, pilfering and gambling. ‘A
bunch of armed guards isn’t the only answer,’ said one committeeman.”
After 33 years of unionism, they have suddenly discovered that armed
guards are not the answer. To put it plainly, they have suddenly
discovered that armed guards are not enough.
The slowdown of automation in the sixties (a consequence of the
shortage of capital) has led to a relative stabilization. That is,
workers in new installations and in old ones that have been reorganized
have now bad a few years to work out new forms of organization. The
complaints against the young workers who make up a crucial force in the
factories indicate that the wildcats of the past may be replaced, or at
least supplemented, by something new.
The tightly knit structures of the big industrial unions leave no
room for maneuvering. There is no reasonable way in which young workers
can use the union constitution to overturn and overhaul the union
structure. The constitution is against them; the money and jobs
available to union bureaucrats are against them. And if these fail, the
forces of law and order of city, state and federal governments are
against them.
If that were not enough, the young workers in the factories today are
expressing the instinctive knowledge that even if they gained control of
the unions and reformed them completely, they would still end up with
unions – organizations which owe their existence to capitalist relations
of productions.
The impossibility of transforming the unions has been argued by a
number of observers. Clark Kerr has noted, without disapproval, that
“unions and corporations alike are, with very few exceptions, one-party
governments.” That is the phrase usually reserved for Stalinist or
fascist totalitarian governments. But it is not overdrawn.
Paul Jacobs has documented this in the case of the unions:
A study of 70 international union constitutions, the
formal instruments that rule a membership of almost 16,000,000 workers,
shows among other things that in most of these 70 unions power is
generally concentrated in the hands of the international presidents,
with few restraints placed upon them, that discipline may be enforced
against union members with little regard for due process, and that
opposition to the incumbent administration is almost impossible.
And all of this is what young workers are revolting
against.
That means that the course of future developments in the factories
has to be sought outside the unions. Caucuses and factions will still be
built and, here and there, will have temporary. and minor successes. But
the explosions that are still to come are likely to have the appearance
of new revolutionary forms, organizations which are not simply organs of
struggle but organs of control of production. They are a sign of the
future.
That means that the course of future developments in the factories
has to be sought outside the unions. Caucuses and factions will still be
built and, here and there, will have temporary and minor successes. But
the explosions that are still to come are likely to have the appearance
of new revolutionary forms, organizations which are not simply organs of
struggle but organs of control of production. They are a sign of the
future. |