We Have Fed You All A Thousand Years: National Biscuit Strike

In the June 19, 1930 issue of the Daily Worker, Sam Weissman, general secretary of the Food Workers Industrial Union, wrote that the successful organization of food workers could not be done by simply organizing the corner bakeries and cafeterias that had until then been the union’s main focus. A shift towards food manufacturing was necessary. “Our orientation must be towards the building of a national Food and Packing House Workers Industrial Union” he wrote, and it must “start immediately.”

    He continues, asking “what kind of a revolutionary union can we build in such a period when we totally neglect to see the hundreds of thousands of workers struggling under the oppression of the capitalist class, when we base our struggles on those workers in the small bakeries, restaurants and cafeterias?” 

In an attempt to tackle larger food manufacturing shops in New York City, the FWIU started holding open-air meetings every Friday at noon outside the factory gates of the National Biscuit Company (now known more commonly as Nabisco). These meetings attempted to outline plans for organization, gather contacts, and were often used to mobilize Nabisco workers to join other Communist Party-led demonstrations and initiatives. 

The following is an excerpt from the book We Have Fed You All a Thousand Years: New York City Food Worker Organizing, 1912-1937. It describes the 1935 National Biscuit Company strike that temporarily shut down several factories, including what was, at the time, the largest bakery in the world. It describes in detail the factory conditions that led to the strike, the strike activity and organizing methods, and eventually why the strike failed. To order a copy of the book, visit https://deadramones.bigcartel.com/product/we-have-fed-you-all-a-thousand-years

The National Biscuit factory, the largest bakery in the world and largest manufacturing plant in New York City when it opened on 15th Street and 10th Avenue in Manhattan in 1899, employed 6,000 workers and opened with an extravagant procession featuring 112 horse-drawn bakery wagons, a platoon of mounted police and a myriad of odd-choice floats, including one of a ferris wheel with Uneeda Biscuit boxes for cars and another with a nine-foot parrot clutching a box of biscuits in its talons. Seven years later it expanded further when Nabisco moved their corporate headquarters from Chicago to New York. Oreos were invented at the New York factory in 1912. Taking up an entire city block, residents of NYC–or more likely tourists visiting NYC–may know this landmark today as Chelsea Market. Production levels were so high that a train line was installed that could pull right into the factory for deliveries of flour and sugar. Much as the biscuit factory itself transitioned into a slow-walking tourist hellscape, this train line is now the elevated walking path known as the High Line.

Just prior to the start of the weekly meetings, an attempted wage reduction was thwarted when workers walked out. The bosses rescinded the proposed cuts twenty minutes later, drawing the attention of FWIU organizers in the process. Soon afterwards, Nabisco laid off 174 workers in one week and forced countless others to take “two week vacations without pay,” according to the Daily Worker. The highest paid workers were canned and replaced with workers at a much lower rate. Those that kept their jobs had their hours cut, but not the workload, forcing them to work dangerously fast. Management spread layoff rumors so regularly that “workers are being thrown into a panic.” On the walls of each department posters in big blue lettering read “what are YOU doing to increase Uneeda sales and thus protect your job?” As if it were the responsibility of the young woman folding hundreds of biscuit boxes an hour to “increase Uneeda sales.” Instead, according to the Daily Worker, “workers have expressed a willingness to struggle'' and were “realizing the need for the Food Workers Industrial Union.” 

Organizers encouraged workers to air their grievances by writing to Labor Unity and to create shop bulletins to reach workers in other departments. At least two workers were reported as speaking at the open-air meetings, which were often attacked by police.

One Nabisco worker wrote into the Daily Worker’s Letters from the Shops column to tell the story of the “employment manager, as he calls himself.” The “biggest grafter in the place,” the manager would take bribes in exchange for job placement–”if you give him a nice big lump sum for the job, you will be sitting pretty and if you don’t, why, no job for you.” The problem, the letter-writer asserts, is that those who come looking for a job don’t have the money to buy one. The manager also reportedly took great advantage of workers “that he thinks can’t speak English very well and won’t tell the big boss on him.”

Another worker followed up thanking the Daily Worker for letting “everyone know what a grafter he is.” Adding, “he is positively rotten to poor people.” The second letter also reveals how the “straw boss” treats workers who come back to work after taking a sick day. “He puts them through the third degree,” the worker writes. “You would think he was a doctor, the questions he asks, and it is terribly embarrassing for women.

“Nerve of him, he should not have anything to do with women’s cases that are out sick. And another thing, he does not know how to talk to women.”

In a diary entry from June 21, 1928, National Biscuit Company worker Anna Saitta describes a typical day in the factory. “The heat is terrible. The foreman was every five minutes hollering at us today, because we couldn’t work fast. Our fingers were bleeding from the hot crackers that stick to the pans, and nearly every one of us had to go for plaster to the nurse. One girl fainted in Building A.” Saitta goes on to describe how “Spanish Mary” was fired “in spite of the busy season, because she danced the Tango during lunch,” calling the foreman that fired her “that old joy-killer” and adding that “this made us more sad than any sad story.”

The women workers described in Saitta’s diary entry represent a broad immigrant ethnic background, and are genially referred to by their ethnicity–”Jewish Shirley,” “Irish Gertie,” “German Erna,” “Lithuanian Rose,” “Irish Rose,” “Irish Mary,” “Italian Mary,” “Slovak Mary,” “Jewish Mary,” “Spanish Mary,” “fat Mary,” “skinny Mary.” You get the idea..

Another entry from February 28, 1928 titled A Day at NBC College–what her group of work friends called the Uneeda Biscuit factory–gives a glimpse of the life of a New York food factory worker. In a dream, Anna and “Slovak Mary” are walking near snow covered mountains, eating bread together and telling each other stories. “The mountains were white, all white and the sun shone upon them bright, the trees looked like faery kings with their glittering icey and snowy crown.” Just as Mary was about to begin singing to her, Anna is abruptly awakened by the “accursed disturber of dreams, you tyrant alarm clock.” Shutting it off, she murmurs to herself “phooey what a life” while trying to recall what she was dreaming, but being late for work she has “no time to think of it,” adding “eight hours spent in a factory are too much.”

Her room is dark as she gets ready for work. It’s raining outside. “Whenever I look through the window in the morning it’s raining, snowing or both at the same time,” she writes. Walking downstairs and towards the train station, shops are closed and each displays a clock reading a slightly different time, increasing her anxiety about being late

“At last arrived to the station, took out my nickel and deposited it with a melancholy look in the box. Goodbye my nickel I’ll never see you again. Clock, time? Seven-thirty. Maybe I’ll have enough time to eat breakfast. Train is coming. Second Avenue elevated. Crowded. People lean on me, I lean on them. They look at me with wrath, I look at them with disgust. We all with the others should get off, in order we could get a seat. I look around in the train. God, how many people live on this earth. Too many, too many.” A woman gets on at Mott Avenue and “leans on me, yawns and sighs.” Anna tries to “push her away,” finally yelling “God’s sake move away a little bit, or do you want to choke me?” The woman says nothing, but stares at her, “her eyes filled with hate, contempt and surprise.”

Getting off the train, she approaches the factory. She writes that “God Maloch,” a pagan deity associated with child sacrifice and the underworld, “God Mamon,” associated with the greedy pursuit of wealth, and “God Ignorance are sitting on the factory chimney.” She writes that “they suck our blood, there isn't in our body blood anymore.” Despite this, Anna and her friends greet each other joyfully: “How are you? Fine, how are you? Feel alright. Smiles and greetings. We would say that we feel fine even if we had to drop dead after.”

After settling in, the forelady sends Anna and a group of female packers across the street to work in the Ninth Avenue building. “That’s a factory?” she asks. “A toilet not a factory. No sun, no air, and cold! They want us to catch consumption.” The next several hours are spent packing biscuits and chatting and being told by the foreman–”that son of a b____”–to “shut up.” “What the hell is this,” he asks them, “a picnic or a factory.” Some of them are separated, sent to different tables, but because it’s the busy season, they aren’t afraid of being fired from “this shithouse.”

The workers' conversations range from Jewish Mary’s dirty jokes to Shirley’s sad stories and from their love lives to religion to ethics to life spent living in poverty. “Poor people can’t be good,” Gertie tells them. “A poor person has no money, and wants to have also nice things, for instance I walk through Fourteenth Street, see those coats in the shopwindows, nice coats, dresses, shawls. While my shoes are torn, my dress is dirty, shabby. I say first, if God would perform a miracle and I would find a purse with thousand dollars, I could buy all those things. I walk through the street, look on the pavement and there is a hope in my heart, maybe I’ll find some money. I look my eyes out, but no sir, I see banana peels, old papers, cigarettes and such junk, but money? No! Then I say, if there be a God, I must find money. God has to prove me now that he exists, not only in the Bible, but real life. So I say to myself, if there is a God, I’ll find money, if there is no God, I won’t. And of course I don’t find it, and I wish to hell heaven itself. And that’s a sin I know to curse God is a deadly sin, and I say the poor ones are all like me, and they’ll go to hell after death. And so long I know I’ll go to hell, what’s the difference how many sins I have. As long I have to suffer after death, I try at least to have as much sins as possible. And anyone who has brains will agree with me.”

On Another day, Gertie tells her coworkers that “I never heard that a poor man got rich from being honest. But a dishonest person, though poor, has always luck. For example, Ford, Rockefeller, or other such rascals. Everybody thinks they got rich from work. But hell, they got rich from cheating. Now all the papers write of them, and after they die, they’ll have some funeral. An honest man goes on living, suffering, and when he drops dead, not a dog barks after him. I am telling you, it’s rotten.”

When payday comes around, Anna writes “this afternoon we received our little, but well deserved wages, $14. Again to the machine to pick up the hot crackers, sweating and quarreling as usual with the men workers because they put too much work on, and before we get our wages, the foreman is always snooping around telling us to work faster or we will get canned today.”

    On November 4, 1930, the Daily Worker published a report by the “Labor Research Association” in which a visitor takes a guided tour through the “great plant of the National Biscuit Company.” At that point, the factory was the “largest user of sugar and flour in the world,” and “employing in all 25,000 workers.”

    When asked, the guide replies, lying of course, “no, we have not cut wages–not yet.” Girls in the packing departments of Nabisco’s 66 factories could earn up to $24 a week on the piece-work system. But when the company switched to hourly, weekly wages were indirectly cut to $18 or less, with girls at the Manhattan factory starting at $14 for a 44-hour week. Wages were often deducted for times when the conveyor belts were not running due to some mechanical error. National Biscuit’s president Roy Tomlinson made a salary of $106,500 in 1934, or a little over two and a quarter million today and more than 146 times what a worker in the New York plant made at the time.

    While the belts were running, they ran fast. With white-uniformed supervisors setting the machine’s pace, workers “must not take their eyes off the job.” With no time for talking, “fingers must move instantly to guide the filling, folding and finishing of a box.” Two bathroom breaks are allowed each worker a day, and only when a relief worker is available to cover their spot in the line.

    “Only young girls can keep up with the pace of the belts,” the Daily Worker report continues. “Older women” are forced to take inspection and examination jobs, “at lower pay.” A Nabisco worker in Beacon, New York wrote to the Daily Worker when management layed off 60 workers–all of them over 35 years old–”because only the very young ones can stand the terrible speed-up.” Workers fainted regularly, dealt with intimidation from company doctors, and were never compensated for taking time off after being injured on the job. In June 1925, a carpenter in the National Biscuit factory committed suicide “because he could not stand the pain” after an elevator he was working on crushed his right foot, according to the New York Times. The company tried to escape responsibility but was eventually forced to pay compensation to the worker’s wife. In 1928, a worker fell into a dough mixer–”a large cylinder in which knife-like blades revolve”–and died, according to the New York Times.

Workers' fingers often became so worn down from rubbing box and tray edges and picking up hot sheets of biscuits all day that their skin would rub right off. According to the report, “icing may cover the blood stain and the belt moves on.” A National Biscuit worker wrote to the Daily Worker from Omaha claiming to have witnessed this blood-tainting “many times” and calling their employer “a giant monster stretching its tentacles over the land and across to Canada crushing all biscuit companies like it does its workers.”

    For men in the baking and mixing departments, “the speed is relentless.” With the layoffs, “the number of men serving the ovens has been cut in half, so that each man is speeded-up to do twice as much as before.” For those working the mix, “flour dust fills the lungs” and many workers suffer from sores and skin irritation due to their arms constantly being covered in flour.

    Despite all the talk of layoffs, or more likely because of them, the company was extremely profitable. “The showing of the company is due to the constantly increasing efficiency of all departments,” the president wrote in a letter to stockholders in January, 1931. “In other words,” the report concludes, the “speeding-up of workers and cutting of wage-rates has increased the profits going to owners who never set foot inside the Nabisco plants.” In addition to worsening conditions in their own factories, National Biscuit continued to buy out and merge with other biscuit producers, building a network of 114 bakeries and selling over 100 million packages of their easily transportable Uneeda biscuits a year by 1900. By 1931, the company was going through six million eggs a year. In the midst of the Great Depression, the New Yorker wrote that “there is no economic stagnation in the biscuit world.” Small grocers accused the company of giving discounts exclusively to chain grocery stores and wheat growers called the food trust’s profits “a result of increased robbery of both the farmers and the workers,” according to the April 21, 1933 issue of The Producers News, the “Official Organ of the United Farmers League. 

In June 1932, workers were sped up further with the introduction of the conveyor system. In the baking department, 60 workers produced what had previously taken 90 and in nearly all departments workers were expected to produce five days worth of product working only three days a week. 

“In the icing department the girls are not even allowed one minute to take a drink,” according to “a worker correspondent” in the Daily Worker. Workers were regularly forced to toil into their lunch breaks “in order to finish up some work,” but still had to “be back on time when the bell rings.” The workday of a cake baker started at 5:30 in the morning and ended at 8 at night, with weekly salaries dropping from $28 to $19. 

On May 28, 1934, 2,000 workers at Manhattan’s National Biscuit Company factory–joined by 700 at the company’s Philadelphia bakery–walked out demanding union recognition, an end to discrimination, equal pay for equal work, overtime pay, longer breaks for oven and conveyor workers, equal distribution of hours, fair treatment and pensions for the old, more relief, slower machines, showers and “the right to smoke in restaurant,” according to the Daily Worker. 

“A group of food worker correspondents” later told their story to the Daily Worker, saying “a remarkable and important point” was that participants in the building of the union and strike were “totally inexperienced in organizing,” but added “we are proud to have such militant leaders among our workers.”

Organizing began after “conditions in the plant became unbearable.” Workers got together and “decided that we had to put an end to these outrages.” They began having “informal talks” with their coworkers and “the group began to grow by leaps and bounds.” They then applied for a charter and joined the AFL. Hearing that workers in the Philadelphia plant “had also become organized,” NYC workers reached out to them.

Workers then elected a committee of 16, who, along with “a rank-and-filer of the Philadelphia union,” presented their demands to the company. Management didn’t take the committee seriously and “took it all as a joke” when the Philadelphia worker said that “if our demands were not granted, the plant he represents will shut down.”

Fifteen minutes later, Philadelphia workers walked out. Within an hour, New York workers in the largest bakery in the world had joined them. Pickets were scheduled for the next day until “management and the regional labor board called our headquarters and requested our committee to come for negotiations.”

Within an hour–and only four hours after it had started–the strike was settled with National Biscuit recognizing the Inside Bakery Workers Federal Union, Local 19585 of the AFL as representing an “indeterminate number of its employees for the purpose of collective bargaining,” according to Ben Golden, executive secretary of the Regional Labor Board, as quoted in the New York Times.

In October, a National Biscuit worker wrote an open letter in the Daily Worker to Sunshine Biscuit workers, urging them to organize. “As you know, we had to decide to organize ourselves into a union controlled by the company or a union controlled by ourselves. We decided to organize a union controlled by the rank and file with complete liberty to present to the company our demands. And these we gained by organizing a united front of all men and women workers in the factory acting as one.”

This move towards rank-and-file militant unionism within the “reactionary” AFL represents a new turn in the Trade Union Unity League, discussed in a July 9, 1932 article in The Militant, appropriately titled… A New Turn in the TUUL. In it we learn that at the eighth session of the Central Council of the Red International of Labor Unions, it was declared that the TUUL has “not yet learned to work among the masses” and are “lagging behind” and “isolated.” The Militant calls this “new turn on working in the AFL and in the reorganization of the TUUL on the factory basis” a “mere side stepping and an attempt to veil the third party wreckage without drawing any consequences.”

And “after three years of a deepening crisis,” according to The Militant, the RILU began “carrying on work not only in those industries where there are no parallel revolutionary unions,” but also moving back towards working within “those AFL unions which are parallel to the TUUL unions.” 

This shift in the TUUL explains, to some degree, why we see Food Workers Industrial Union organizers holding meetings outside National Biscuit Company’s gates and Daily Worker articles about abhorrent factory conditions, but workers on the inside, many of them disciplined Communist Party members, chartering a union with the AFL.

On January 8, 1935, National Biscuit Company workers walked out once again, led by Inside Bakery Workers Union president William Galvin, a young man who had, until then, spent 12 years in the National Biscuit factory. Nearly 3,000 workers in the Manhattan bakery–”the entire force in the New York factory” except for sixty security guards, according to the Daily News–joined in solidarity with 800 Philadelphia NBC workers–some of whom were working 6:30 a.m. to 11 p.m. seven days a week–demanding “equalization of pay for similar work” and charging “the company had been discriminating against union members,” according to the New York Times. “It seems,” wrote the February 1935 edition of Working Women, “that the Philadelphia Nabisco was paying some packers 35 cents an hour and other packers only 30 cents an hour.” More specifically, men were being paid more for performing the same jobs as women. The Philadelphia plant, already represented by a business union, had been in arbitration with NBC over the issue for the last 7 months, yet “the company continued to maintain its differential between men and women workers in Philadelphia and efforts of the Philadelphia workers to effect an adjustment ended in failure, it is charged,” according to the Brooklyn Daily Eagle.

Union members also alleged that the company had begun shipping in goods from Cambridge and Buffalo, both unorganized shops, “thus forcing the reduction of the personnel here and in Philadelphia.” The New Masses called this “the company’s first major step in the campaign to break the union.” In response, the union declared they were “determined to stop this by extending the strike to every city where the company maintains plants.” The Inside Bakery Workers Union, organized by the workers themselves in June 1934, was willing to have the wage rate grievance arbitrated, but National Biscuit refused, sending the message that they intended to crush all union organization. Four days after the strike was called, National Biscuit declared a lockout and “stacked” the warehouses “to capacity,” according to the New Masses. Iron gratings were installed on the windows of the New York plant. 

The 1920s saw a boom in food manufacturing. By 1924, 82,500 New Yorkers were employed in food production, a more than 70 percent jump from 1900. Thousands of women toiled in the city’s 1,127 food factories, producing half the country’s sugar and a sixth of its bakery products. New York was a particularly important plant to the National Biscuit Company not only due to the large consumer base of New York City. Because of its proximity to the port, National Biscuit workers in New York mixed, baked and packaged a large portion of the company's products to be shipped to the burgeoning biscuit-eating markets of Central and South America. A strike in their largest plant could not be tolerated.

National Biscuit tried to blame the strike on Communist agitation and infiltration, but of the 3,000 workers at the Manhattan factory, only 500 of them had worked there for less than five years, while nearly a third had worked for the company 11-15 years and 175 for 26 years or more. We can almost assume that diarist Anna Saitta and her friends on the production line were now taking part in the picketing. “You can’t say that this strike was fomented or carried on by outsiders,” Galvin told the Catholic Worker. “If they hadn’t had real grievances this strike would not have been called.”

“We are fighting against the constant speedup, people being laid off and a skeleton force doing all the work,” Galvin told the Catholic Worker. “If anyone is sick they are laid off for several weeks without pay. There is no definitive pension system, people 35-40 years in the employ of the company being kept on at small wages so that when they are finally laid off with a few dollars a week to keep them it is only because they can’t last much longer. When anyone is laid off with a pension we call it the death sentence.”

The strike quickly spread to neighboring cities, including Newark, Atlanta and York, Pennsylvania, bringing 6,000 workers out of five plants. Local 807 of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters–the drivers delivering NBC products–joined the strike in sympathy and, according to The New Masses, “the trucks stopped running.” 

In Newark, New Jersey, 25 workers were arrested and “accused of participating in alleged violence to company truck drivers,” after a group of workers blocked trucks with their cars while another group hurled stones at them. Management in Newark said they “planned to keep the plant closed until the entire strike was settled,” according to the Brooklyn Times Union. Pickets not only went up around the factories, but “workers, their wives and friends” picketed grocery stores that continued to sell National Biscuit products–three Staten Island grocers would later have their windows smashed in for continuing to sell NBC’s products. Three striking bakers were arrested on January 11 for painting “Boycott Uneeda Bakers” on an abandoned building near 5th Avenue and 26th Street. On January 19, 2,800 workers paraded peacefully through Chelsea with banners “asking for public support of the strike,” according to the New York Times.

The next day, NBC put out ads looking for drivers in the Sunday papers, but on Monday morning, striking workers were there to keep them out. What began as a sympathy strike grew into something more when workers “remembered their own situation,” wrote the New Masses. Fifty cops were sent to the factory gates, ten on horseback to protect the strikebreakers. “Fist fights ensued,” according to the New York TImes, leading to the arrest of six strikers. One bystander was beaten by police after being “mistaken for a striker,” according to the Daily News.

Peter Gaches, a 33-year-old striker on his way to picket duty was approached by four men and stabbed “at 9 o’clock in the morning, under the eyes of police by the armed thugs of the biscuit company,” according to Galvin. National Biscuit, in addition to having the NYPD cracking down on its striking workers, enlisted hired muscle as strikebreakers to join in on the brutalizing. Nine of these “professional strikebreakers” arrested in Newark on February 26 had all been “convicted of highway robbery and similar crimes” and were carrying “dangerous weapons when arrested” according to the Daily Worker. “Of nine gunmen arrested it was found that two of them had only been out of jail eight days,” Galvin told the Catholic Worker.

The International Ladies’ Garment Workers Union assured that none of its 102,000 members would buy National Biscuit products while the strike was on and the Women’s Trade Union League’s Grace Childs–wife of the anti-union businessman Richard Childs, owner of the chain of Child’s Restaurants–took to the radio to urge consumers to boycott and “let the National Biscuit Co. know their attitude” toward the strike, according to Brooklyn Times Union. The slogan “You Don’t Needa Biscuit,” a play on the popular Nabisco product Uneeda Biscuit, became the rallying cry of strikers and their supporters. New Masses claimed that “eating or selling products of the National Biscuit Company today means eating or selling stale warehouse stock, some of it baked as far back as last August, and it means eating or selling products of scab labor.” Competing biscuit companies Bond and Ward even began utilizing their factories to produce and package NBC products, which Gavin called “a united move of the large corporations to smash the union,” according to the Daily Worker.

Strike headquarters were formed in “every borough of the city from which picketing of all stores which handle Nabisco products will be directed,” wrote the Daily Worker. Groups of ten strikers formed units, each headed by a captain, who handled picket duty at the plant and throughout the city.

On January 31, a worker correspondent wrote into the Daily Worker saying that the strike had been successful “till now” and that “the spirit is weakening because of lack of funds and news.” The letter continues, saying “some of the strikers are beginning to feel that the strike is pretty useless and futile” and that “I am sure if there would be more daily news of the strike” and if a strike fund were set up “it would help considerably.”

When strikers attempted to attack a delivery truck on February 5, a police officer who was “backed against a wall dodging missiles,” fired two shots into the air to disperse the crowd, who instead “continued stoning him and the biscuit company’s trucks parked in the block,” according to the Daily News. Three strikers were arrested for throwing rocks. Delivery drivers took “an active part in the picketing,” according to the Daily Worker. With Teamsters Local 807 workers out, any truck leaving the factory gates had a scab behind the wheel. “Afraid to send out their cakes in their own delivery trucks,” according to a postal worker in the Daily Worker, the company started shipping products to New York through the mail in a sly effort to avoid confrontations with strikers. “We can not allow ourselves,” the postal worker correspondent continued, “to become the tools of the bosses to break this militant strike of our own fellow workers.”

When the NBC reopened the factory on February 11, strike activity intensified. “Window panes crashed under a barrage of stones and ice” in one of “the worst disorders since the walkout was called,” according to the Daily News. On that bitter, snowy morning, 400 strikers–”many of whom were women,” according to the New York Times–clashed with 50 cops on 14th Street and 10th Avenue. Striking workers “attempted forcibly” to block trucks from getting through the gates. “They hurled stones and pieces of ice through the windows and the main door,” and tried to overturn trucks in the street. Two cops were stationed inside each delivery truck, while countless others were put on duty in and around the factory. When strikers were dispersed, police cordoned the massive bakery, allowing it to resume production. 

Meanwhile, 50 female strikers “assisted by prominent members of the New York Women’s Trade Union League,” passed out flyers along Fifth Avenue from 34th to 42nd Street, “telling the workers’ side of the conflict,” according to the New York Times. The United Council of Working Class Women, who had successfully stopped many stores from stocking NBC products, held open air meetings “to win support behind the strikers” and “to make more effective the consumer strike against Nabisco products,” according to the Daily Worker.

Pickets were held outside grocery stores that continued to sell National Biscuit products. The majority of chain groceries were decidedly anti-labor and refused to boycott, but a number of independent restaurants and grocers at least temporarily dropped the company’s products, especially those that received consumer pressure. The FWIU claimed to have barred “all Nabisco products in the stores where its 1,000 members work,” according to the Daily Worker. In one day alone in Jersey City, three picketed stores had their windows smashed. At one of them, “a bread box was hurled through the window,” according to the Daily Worker.

On February 21, at 5:30 p.m., as strikebreakers were leaving for the day, a group of pickets–carrying placards reading “non-union labor made crackers shipped to your grocer”–shouted “scab!” and attacked, in what the New York Times called “a riot in which fists flew freely and which resulted in several bloody faces.” Strikebreakers, armed with “all sorts of weapons,” fought back as 50 cops “closed in” and called for backup. It wasn’t uncommon for fights between strikers and strikebreakers to involve sticks, crowbars or, in one case, a monkey wrench. Two cops went home “slightly injured,” according to the Daily News, while 21 pickets were arrested, 10 of which were women and included Eleanor Mishmunn, organizer with the Women’s Trade Union League. Police called her a “bum” as they arrested her. She was charged with using “boisterous language.” Meanwhile, other striking workers toured upper Broadway with a portable puppet show “as a means of drawing attention to their cause.”

Strikers, most of whom had “little or no previous experience in labor struggles,” according to the New Masses, were shocked and enraged “beyond measure” by police repression. Police officers who had been “nearly human” during their first hour of picket duty would be “called into the company office” and come out looking for blood. Police dispersed pickets “a number of times” by firing into the air. Countless strikers ended up stuck at home with injuries from horse hooves and nightsticks. One month into the strike, striking workers received letters that their group life insurance policies were expiring. Regardless, The Militant wrote “the workers are showing remarkable militancy for an eight months’ old union.”

Some blamed the violence on William Galvin, president of the Inside Bakery Workers Federal Union, and other union leaders for not setting up a publicity committee, putting only him in the position of disseminating information to the press and public. National Biscuit were aggressive advertisers, spending $7 million in its first decade alone. Newspapers that relied on NBC ad revenue were unsurprisingly hesitant to cover the strike, sparing them some well-deserved bad publicity. A 20-block-long strike parade received almost no coverage, and “dozens of pictures” of turned over scab trucks “by competent staff photographers” “didn’t find their way into the papers,” according to the New Masses. Where strike coverage did occur in the capitalist press, it was often in support of the company, such as the Daily News “glorifying the heroic cops” or the Daily Mirror, who “implicitly called attention to the strikers’ vandalism,” according to the New Masses. 

Galvin even actively prevented writers from talking with rank-and-file strikers, which the New Masses called “entirely in line with Galvin’s general policy of running the union singlehanded.” They called it “a large strike without a strike committee which functions as such.” There was little room for discussion at strike meetings, with “all important decisions” being “made by Galvin alone,” according to the New Masses.

Workers, now two months into a strike spanning factories in five cities, held a “flying squadron” and picketed 1936 Republican presidential candidate Ogden Mills' three-and-a-half-story Fifth Avenue home. Mills, a prominent New York politician who had been appointed by President Hoover to serve as Secretary of the Treasury, was a major shareholder in the National Biscuit Company. One hundred strikers chanted “Ogden Mills has locked us out,” under the close watch of a dozen police. 

On March 13, workers picketed an annual stockholders meeting, where inside one stockholder suggested suing the union “to force these rats to pay for the damage they cause,” according to the New York Times. Galvin “crashed” the meeting of “one of the most dignified and conservative of industrial companies” and defended the workers, giving stockholders “an unaccustomed thrift” and saying NBC had broken a verbal contract to pay equal wages for equal work and that officials had refused to sit down and discuss arbitration. Roy Tomlinson, president of the National Biscuit Company, refused to respond to Galvin–even when encouraged to do so by stockholders–when the union leader pointed out that 3,000 workers in the New York plant “were doing as much work as 8,000 did some years ago,” according to the New York Times. One mechanic on the picket line recalled having to handle 12 packing machines, 12 conveyors, 12 closing machines and 24 carton folders. “He and some of the girl strikers,” wrote the New Masses, “had a difference of opinion as to what was worse, rushing from one conveyor to another or standing before one of the relentless belts.”

    National Biscuit–being the “dignified and conservative” company that they were–began reaching out to local churches for assistance in procuring “young women” strikebreakers “to take the place of ‘reds’” according to a statement by the Brooklyn Church and Mission Federation sent to 300 clergymen. 

“Various inducements are being offered,” the statement continues, “to attract strike-breakers through church channels. It is natural that pastors of churches that have large numbers of unemployed young people might be misled by propaganda of this type which is false and which would make our churches strike-breaking agencies, thereby depriving people, who are already suffering through a prolonged strike, which the company refuses to arbitrate, of a livelihood.” 

    When the church refused to help break the strike, NBC turned to the courts, suing the union for $100,000 and demanding an injunction against picketing and what NBC’s attorney, former New York Supreme Court Justice Morgan J. O’Brien, called “the circulation of false and scurrilous charges concerning the company and its products,” according to the New York Times. A temporary injunction was signed into order on April 6, three months after the walkout began. It would quickly prove to be ineffective at breaking the strike.

    On April 10, four days after the signing of the temporary injunction, 1,500 National Biscuit Company strikers and sympathizers rallied at Union Square before marching west to the factory. Along the way they were met by 100 cops, ten patrol cars and “a police emergency squad” who violently attempted to disperse the crowd using blackjacks and clubs, according to the New York Times. About a dozen workers had to be treated for injuries after “police charged into the tight ranks with flailing clubs,” according to the Daily News. Norman Thomas, six-time Socialist presidential candidate called it “one of the most vicious and inexcusable attacks upon men and women in a picket line,” according to the Times. Ten pickets were arrested. Mayor La Guardia promised to have a representative present on future pickets to ensure they were “not broken up by similar violence.”

    Days later, 2,200 workers picketed outside the National Biscuit plant, led by a procession of roller skating pickets. Strikers were joined by Gifford Pinchot, wife of the former Governor of Pennsylvania. Pinchot wore a strike sign over her brown fur coat and called the demonstration “magnificent,” according to the New York Times. Fifty police watched but kept their distance this time, but the peace wouldn’t last long.

    The next day when several hundred striking workers tried to stop a group of scabs led by a police escort from entering the bakery, “the police went into action” and attacked pickets with “fists and clubs,” according to the New York Times. Seven pickets were arrested under a slew of charges such as disorderly conduct, hitting a strikebreaker, “kicking a patrolman,” “abusing the police and refusing to move on” and “attempting to take a nightstick” from an arresting officer. 

    On March 7, police discovered an undetonated bomb “along the wall of the boiler house” of the York, Pennsylvania National Biscuit Company factory, while on March 23, four strikers were arrested in Jersey City for bombing the home of an NBC foreman “who has remained at work during the employees’ strike,” according to the Daily News.

    On April 28, union officials and Nabisco reached a settlement, ending the 95-day strike, which was ratified by a membership vote of 1,654 to 47 at a meeting in Stuyvesant High School. The next morning workers in New York and Philadelphia returned to work, or at least those that could did. As part of the settlement, the company agreed to reinstate striking workers “as far as practicable,” with preference given to “married workers and those with family responsibilities,” and taking into account “length of service and proficiency,” according to the  New York Times. The agreement allowed the continuation of pre-strike wage rates, but granted union recognition, making collective bargaining for future wage increases a possibility. The agreement also called for the withdrawal of all court action against strikers. The company agreed not to bring in products from unorganized shops into areas serviced by the New York City factory. Both sides agreed that no future strike or lockout could be taken without 72 hours advance notice in writing. Those who NBC claimed could not be hired back immediately were placed on a “preferential list,” that they were required to hire from for the next year, but despite the company’s promise of a “gradual return,” by mid-May only 1,000 of the 2,800 strikers had been taken back.

    The union published a resolution charging that the National Biscuit Company had failed to comply with the terms of the settlement agreement and that the company was “discriminating against its employees for their union activities” and “using coercive tactics against the said employees in an attempt to destroy the Inside Bakery Workers Federal Labor Union, Local 19,585.” Many of the union workers who had been hired back were only given part time work, wages were cut, the speed-up resumed and nonunion factories continued to expand and export into union factories’ territories. On October 11, National Biscuit fired 224 union members from its New York bakery as it reduced the territory and product variety covered by the union shop. Union members were regularly discharged for not passing unreasonably rigorous physical examinations.

    The union sued National Biscuit over the breach of contract, where Galvin told a courtroom that NBC “has not only breached its agreements with the union,” but that it caused “the union and its members irreparable damage” and that its “arbitrary, deliberate and unreasoned attempts to crush the union are not only violative of good faith and fair dealing, but are also in violation of the law.” The company argued that many of the details of the contract were decided orally and not embodied in writing, leaving the signed document vague and contractual requirements ambiguous. 

    The New Masses criticized Galvin for signing “an agreement which allows the company to retain union scabs while men on the picket line must wait indefinitely for reinstatement.” They viewed the agreement as a selling out of its membership, where “high-sounding promises” were thrown around before AFL leaders “backed down at the last moment.” The New Masses also criticized Galvin, “in typical AFL fashion,” for attempting to forbid mass picketing, discouraging militancy and perpetuating the red scare. 

This is evidenced in a May 1935 issue of the Catholic Worker, in which Catholic Worker staff members visit the daily picket held outside the factory–which they call ”the only means the crowd of strikers have to indicate to the public the fight they are waging for justice”–only to find it had been “called off” by Galvin, “in order to avoid the interference of Communist groups.” When workers suggested that the union produce a leaflet “telling the union’s side of the story to be given wide distribution,” Galvin called it impractical and a “Communist method,” according to the Daily Worker. When workers proposed daily strike meetings, he shot them down saying they were “too expensive.” 

Instead, Galvin turned striking worker’s energy towards sustaining a Nabisco boycott and maintained pickets outside of select stores, urging them to drop the product. The Catholic Worker article goes on to applaud the strike that “has been going on for fifteen weeks” for having “no spirit of class war” and makes sure to notify readers that they attended the picket “with no spirit of hatred towards individuals, whether they be scabs, strikebreakers, policemen, officials and stockholders of the NBC.” 

    It’s impossible to say now whether or not the strike would have been more successful had the workers had more control over their union and the strike, but it nonetheless stands as a lesson to organizers today that top-down, undemocratic organizational structures don’t win strikes. The self-emancipation of the working class must be done by the workers themselves.

Op-Ed: The UNITE HERE International Union Should Keep Their Hands Off Local 2’s Pension Fund

October 4th, 2022
Copyright © 2022 by Marc Norton

I have been a proud member of UNITE HERE Local 2 in San Francisco since 1976, working at several hotel, restaurant, and food service jobs over the years, and now at the Giants’ ballpark.

Workers need strong unions to fight the bosses and corporate forces whose greed knows no bounds. Without Local 2, my life would have been much, much harder.

But today one of my worst Local 2 nightmares may be coming true.

The UNITE HERE International Union wants to “merge” Local 2’s pension fund into the massive Las Vegas pension fund.

Las Vegas, with more than 60,000 UNITE HERE members, is the home base of International Union President D. Taylor. Both Taylor and former President John Wilhelm are trustees of the Las Vegas pension fund.

The International Union also wants to merge the Seattle, Sacramento, San Mateo, and San Diego pension funds into the Las Vegas fund as part of this same deal.

The “merged” fund would be run by a “merged” Board of Trustees, with the International Union in the commanding position.

WHY THIS MATTERS

Local 2 representatives would be only one small voice among many. We would lose control of the size of our pensions and when we get them. We would also lose control of investment decisions and oversight of the fund. That would be the same for Seattle, Sacramento, San Mateo and San Diego workers.

Local 2 representatives would be only one small voice among many. We would lose control of the size of our pensions and when we get them. We would also lose control of investment decisions and oversight of the fund. That would be the same for Seattle, Sacramento, San Mateo and San Diego workers.

Local 2 workers have fought hard over the years to improve our pensions. After many strikes and actions, and after sacrificing many potential wage increases to put money into our pension fund, San Francisco hotel workers are currently entitled to a pension of $50 per month for every year of work.

We have also sacrificed to put money into our medical fund. We have an outstanding medical plan which includes full coverage for many of our retirees. These are accomplishments that the membership and our local officials can be proud of.

Pensions for Las Vegas workers are far less, according to the pension plan documents posted on the Las Vegas pension website. What incentive would the International Union and Las Vegas officials have to allow Local 2 workers’ pensions to outshine what they provide for Las Vegas workers?

Local 2 officials have bragged that the merged pension fund would control around $3.8 billion in assets. Our local fund has about $600 million. It does not take a mathematician to see that Local 2 would only be the tail on the dog.

LOCAL 2 OFFICIALS BACK MERGER

Sadly, our Local 2 officials are on board with this plan to merge away local control of our pension fund. Their fealty to the International Union seems to know no bounds.

Local 2 members have been told repeatedly in recent times that our pension fund is in good shape. Why fix something that isn’t broken? Why are Local 2 officials rushing to give up local control of our pension fund?

Local 2 members have been told repeatedly in recent times that our pension fund is in good shape. Why fix something that isn’t broken? Why are Local 2 officials rushing to give up local control of our pension fund?

Local 2 officials have admitted to working on this plan for at least the last six months, likely much longer, but only revealed it to members on August 26 in a cryptic announcement buried in a “newsletter” on the local’s little-used website. This announcement did not mention Las Vegas, but only unnamed “UNITE HERE western states” pension funds. Getting more information has been a process.

Our Local 2 officials have also been at pains to tell us that the decision will be made solely by the current pension fund trustees, that there will be no vote on the matter by Local 2 members, and the they will not even be consulting our Executive Board.

Our officials further claim that our pension benefits will be protected by some kind of complicated arrangement involving separate accounting of contributions from the different locals.

But regardless of what arrangement is made at the beginning, a new “merged” Board of Trustees could change the rules at any time.

The new “merged” Board of Trustees could even do further mergers with other UNITE HERE pension funds, without any need to consult the membership.

Regardless of what arrangement is made at the beginning, a new “merged” Board of Trustees could change the rules at any time.

The new “merged” Board of Trustees could even do further mergers with other UNITE HERE pension funds, without any need to consult the membership.

The basic pitch from our officials, as usual, is “Trust us.” But even if we trust them, this merger is forever. Who knows who will be in charge next year, five years from now, or down the road?

Right now if we have a problem with the administration of our pension fund, we know the Local 2 trustees (Mike Casey, Anand Singh, Tina Chen and Kim Wirshing) and how to get to them.

How would we even go about getting a hearing from the trustees from the International Union and from locals all over the western states? Good luck with that.

Our officials say there are laws that protect our current pension benefits. This is true. But the laws are far from foolproof. And laws can change. Just think Trump 2024, and be very afraid.

I have been personally warned by our officialdom that they will be very “mad” at me if I publicize this proposed pension merger outside my local. But bringing this scheme into the light of day is the only way to fight it, so I will just live with the consequences.

I don’t even know at this point if members of the other affected locals know anything about this proposed pension fund merger. I would love to hear from fellow workers in other UNITE HERE locals.

THE INTERNATIONAL UNION

Local 2 has long had a fraught relationship with the International Union. There is no way to do this subject justice in this one article, but here are some highlights.

When I first joined Local 2 in 1976, the International Union was run by President Edward T. Hanley, widely believed to be a creature of the Chicago mob. In 1978, Local 2 members voted out Hanley’s guy here in San Francisco, which led in short order to a trusteeship imposed by the International Union.

International Union Trustee Vincent Sirabella arrived talking about what wonderful things the International Union could do for us if we handed our pension fund over to them. Fortunately there was too much blowback from the membership about the trusteeship for that pension grab to be executed.

In 1980, over 6,000 Local 2 hotel workers went on strike for a month, the first such strike in decades. The strike ended with a controversial settlement after Hanley took over negotiations without any participation by the rank-and-file.

Later that year, Local 2 members voted to amend our bylaws to require that Business Agents be elected by the membership. Hanley vetoed that bylaw amendment.

By 1981 the net assets of the International Union had dropped during Hanley’s reign from $21 million to $12 million, despite a large increase in the number of paid “organizers.” Union membership was in decline.

There was a disastrous restaurant strike in San Francisco in 1984, and we lost nearly all of our restaurant contracts. The man on the scene for the International Union during this strike was D. Taylor.

The U.S. Senate held several hearings in the mid-1980s featuring testimony about Hanley’s connections to organized crime and the looting of numerous union and benefit funds.

In 1991 the Local 2 administration secretly mortgaged our Union Hall to the International Union, in clear violation of our bylaws, to pay off accumulated debts. Local 2’s President at the time, Sherri Chiesa, later ascended to the post of International Union Secretary-Treasurer.

In 1995 federal courts imposed a Federal Department of Justice “monitor” on the International Union. The feds used this “monitorship” to force the removal of a good number of allegedly mob-connected officials from the International Union and from various locals.

In 1996, Brother Jon Palewicz discovered the secret mortgage of our Union Hall to the International Union. When we informed the federal monitor of this fact, then Secretary-Treasurer Herman “Blackie” Leavitt was forced to turn the deed back over to Local 2. Leavitt claimed that the mortgage had been rescinded earlier, but “somehow, we neglected to file” the proper paperwork.

The monitorship did not end until 1998, when Hanley was forced to resign. The International Union General Executive Board chose John Wilhelm, a protege of Sirabella, to replace Hanley. Wilhelm famously said that “There is no organized crime problem… with respect to former President Hanley [and] current general officers.”

Hanley died in a car accident on a lonely country highway in Wisconsin in 2000.

Wilhelm retired as International Union President in 2012. The International Union General Executive Board selected D. Taylor as the new President.

Members of some International Unions, including the Teamsters and the United Auto Workers (UAW), directly elect their International Presidents on the basis of one worker, one vote. Not so with the UNITE HERE International Union. The top hierarchy picks one of their own, and their choice is later confirmed at their rigged International Conventions, leaving UNITE HERE members disenfranchised when it comes to control of the International Union.

The federal government purged the International Union of its upfront organized crime figures, but the Godfather style of control from the top remains solidly intact.

Today the “see-no-evil, hear-no-evil, say-no-evil” D. Taylor and John Wilhelm are still in charge, and are the moving forces behind the International Union’s move to take control of our Local 2 pension fund.

The federal government purged the International Union of its upfront organized crime figures, but the Godfather style of control from the top remains solidly intact.

Today the “see-no-evil, hear-no-evil, say-no-evil” D. Taylor and John Wilhelm are still in charge, and are the moving forces behind the International Union’s move to take control of our Local 2 pension fund.

THE BEAT GOES ON

Local 2 members overwhelmingly passed a bylaw amendment in 2021, requiring our officials to prosecute scabs after any strike. D. Taylor vetoed that bylaw amendment.

Earlier this year, under the presumed guidance of the International Union, Local 2 officials sold us on merging the San Francisco and East Bay locals into one union, telling us that bigger is better—the same line they are using to try to sell the pension fund merger.

Our officials also told us that the merger of the two locals would be the “first action” in our 2022 hotel contract campaign. Then they turned around and allowed the International Union to negotiate a nationwide hotel contract deal without any participation by the rank and file.

The new hotel contract supposedly protects housekeeping jobs, but with the unusual provision that any housekeeping staffing grievances that need to go to arbitration must first go through a “pre-arbitration conference” with the International Union President or his representative. You have to wonder what kind of deals might be made at such a “conference.”

The new hotel contract does next to nothing to bring back to work the many non-housekeeping hotel workers whose jobs have been eliminated or merged with other classifications during the COVID-19 pandemic and the ongoing economic crisis, which has hit our industry very hard. The severance package that San Francisco hotel workers won in our 2018 strike seems to have gone up in smoke.

As part of the merger of the two locals, an under-the-radar bylaw amendment abolished regular, monthly membership meetings — the only meetings where workers from all the different workplaces and crafts in our union could come together.

As part of the merger of the two locals, an under-the-radar bylaw amendment abolished regular, monthly membership meetings — the only meetings where workers from all the different workplaces and crafts in our union could come together.

Instead, the Executive Board is supposed to set four membership meetings each year at times and places of its choosing, which they can amend “as necessary.”

Meanwhile, Local 2’s Executive Board continues to meet in secret. We can’t even get the minutes of its meetings in a timely fashion.

THE FUTURE OF OUR UNION

The struggle for democracy within Local 2 and our sister unions around the country has had many ups and downs over the years. Right now, it seems like it is mostly down.

I fear for the future of Local 2, and for the future of hotel, restaurant and food service workers around the country. We are facing multiple problems as a result of the pandemic and the ongoing economic crisis. We don’t need to add self-inflicted wounds.

Giving up local control of our pension funds is a disaster in waiting, and one more step away from the rank and file having a real democratic voice in the functioning of our union.

Local 2 officials should reverse course and walk away from this proposed pension fund merger, now.

Local 2 officials should reverse course and walk away from this proposed pension fund merger, now.

A shorter version of this article was originally published by Labor Notes on September 21, 2022. Marc Norton's website is at MarcNortonOnline. He can be reached at nortonsf@protonmail.com.

Op-Ed: Underjoyed About Joy Silk

The NLRB wants to change the rules around how unions can win legal recognition from employers. A union organizer explains why this doctrine won’t do much for workers.

By Alex Riccio

On April 11, 2022 Jennifer Abruzzo, the General Counsel of the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB), filed a brief stating her desire to revive a doctrine known as Joy Silk. This brief has led to an explosion of commentaries and reactions, with the mouthpieces of the employer class catastrophizing over the prospects of Joy Silk while liberals, and even some left-wing pundits, are celebrating the memo as if it signals the arrival of the new messiah, Jennifer Abruzzo, ready to smite all enemies of labor unions with her righteous brand of jurisprudence. To a degree I sympathize with those jubilant labor supporters, but I cannot muster the same excitement for Joy Silk, as I see it having minimal effect on restraining employers' pugnacious willingness to violate labor law.

Quickly, Joy Silk is a legal doctrine which requires employers to demonstrate a good faith doubt that a majority of their employees wish to form a union if said employees push for union recognition. Without producing such a credible doubt, the employer is expected to recognize their workers’ union. 

Right-wingers claim this doctrine will effectively require employers to grant automatic “card check” recognition to unions, while more measured labor law commentators have demonstrated that in fact the purpose of the doctrine is to discourage employers from violating labor law, and therefore the doctrine will lead to an increase in NLRB elections rather then an increase in card check recognition. 

Practically, then, what this means is Joy Silk is another mechanism for unions to file unfair labor practices (ULPs) against employers with the hope that most employers will simply allow workers to proceed to an NLRB election without interference. Here is where I’m underwhelmed. One, ULPs against employers rarely lead to anything of meaningful consequence. The NLRB can’t impose fines, and its overall enforcement mechanisms are quite minimal. Typically ULPs just result in a written notice being posted from the employer in a workplace, or back pay for a fired worker, or, if you’re lucky, a demand to bargain with a union, which employers can still stall out through legal means. 

Two, ULPs take forever and time is the greatest weapon of the boss. By the time a union “wins”, much of the support from workers has been eroded as they’ve been exhausted by the whole process. Where an industry is prone to high turnover, it’s likely that many of the union supporters no longer work at a site once a ULP has finally been settled. Joy Silk would be subject to the same long delays as any other NLRB process.  

Three, and this is probably my biggest reason for not jumping for joy, a Joy Silk framework has zero impact on large corporate employers, for instance a Starbucks or Amazon. If you could even muster enough authorization cards, and then somehow present those cards with a majority of employees to demonstrate beyond a reasonable doubt to the employer that workers want a union, who honestly believes such corporations will actually be compelled to follow labor law? A Starbucks is going to look at this doctrine, if it even has a chance of being revived, and come up with a thousand (likely credible) claims for doubting the workers want a union. Even if they’re not credible they’ll still take it to court and stall the whole process, and proceed to illegally bust the union while things are dragged on in the courts for years. Joy Silk won’t do anything to make big companies, the ones unions must take on, comply with the law or become allergic to ruthlessly fighting unions however they deem necessary. I’ll concede it could help with compelling small employers to follow the doctrine, but it’s simply not enough to take on small shops one at a time while getting our asses handed to us by the ruling class that employs the vast majority all the while.

Joy Silk, and for that matter the PRO Act, is just more tinkering around the edges of the real problems plaguing organized labor, which is crudely the fact that workers and employers have fundamentally opposing interests and are locked in a class war. I wouldn’t object to improvements in labor law, small and ineffectual as they may be, and don’t believe that all such reforms must be abandoned outright. But unions placing a primacy on legal strategies as a means to increasing union power is a major factor in why unions today are so small in numbers and weak in nature. The plain reality is that if your strategies are focused primarily around winning political inches, then inches at most are all you can gain. Unions must go much bigger than coloring within the lines of labor law.

Strategies to revive union power, as I believe enthusiasts for Joy Silk actually want to see, must be based on utilizing workers greatest weapon: the withdrawal of their labor, whether by legal or illegal means. Labor creates all value, which is what makes the collective action of workers dangerous for employers. Frankly this is such an obvious point, but it bears repeating ad nauseum because many have seemed to have forgotten the foundational power analysis in the circumstance between workers and owners. 

Additionally, even if one does wish for an improved set of labor laws the methods for achieving this are rooted in workplace actions. Today everyone in labor circles knows the concept of “labor peace”: when unions and employers agree to keep production rolling and to settle their differences outside of the workplace. Collective bargaining and legal methods for equalizing the playing field are an effort at implementing some form of labor peace. It is no surprise that government institutions like the NLRB are amenable to revising labor laws that funnel more workers into “peaceful” relations with their employers, while expanding the right to strike, which has been thoroughly restricted over the past seven decades, rarely emerges as a serious consideration.  

Of course peace is temporary, and I think even those that desire labor peace understand this fact. But the precondition for peace is war. At the moment, unions have not produced a war sufficient enough to compel employers, or the state, to intervene with peace offerings. Strikes, workplace disruptions, sabotage, all of these are the methods of class war for workers that, if ratcheted up, will force a crisis big enough to usher in a set of legal reforms. I’d posit that the frequency and militancy of labor strikes in the early 1930s was the necessary prelude to the Wagner Act itself, the law that brought the NLRB into existence, and any current efforts to fundamentally shift labor relations as the Act did should view this prehistory as instructive.

The premise of this piece is the law won’t save workers. The whole purpose of law is to mollify dissent by channeling it through the preferred channels of the state. Joy Silk in all likelihood will just dangle more carrots in front of most unions who won’t be able to resist falling into the trap of pursuing futile legal resolutions to a fight that must be won on the shop floor.

Alex Riccio is an organizer for Workers United, and a member of the IWW. He hosts Laborwave Radio, a podcast discussing work and union strategies.

Op-Ed: A Suggestion for Terry Durack

James Barbeiro responds to the article “Serving suggestion: Could conscription ease the hospitality staffing crisis?” by Terry Durack

By James Barbeiro

The whole thing reads like a satirical  article, it wasn't until the end that I realized that for real, it wasn't. I sort of wish it was. It would have left me with a better taste in my mouth. 

I think the article lacks any positive analysis that holds owners and shareholders accountable for the atmosphere that they have created. One where workers bear the weight of an industry that demands far too much from them to appease an overly demanding abusive public sphere. Nor does it hold workers accountable to their responsibility to make things better. 

It does seem though that workers recognize their needs aren't being met. Workers want free time, benefits, democracy in the workplace, and they want their jobs to have meaning beyond paying for their bosses' vacation homes and luxury vehicles.  

If the owning class can't provide that within their framework of the restaurant industry then they will simply fail, and workers will pick up the pieces and create a new industry that feeds people- not for profit- but for the betterment of our health and wellness. (Ideally)

I think this article is harmful to a lot of people, the insinuation to sacrifice our kids to the industry? To send students who have left school Into an industry that will chew them up and spit them right back out. This "solution" takes the blame away from our educational institutions and our governments for leaving our youth un-inspired by the futures we've presented them. Kids aren't leaving school, we've left them behind. And I can't blame them for it, the future we've presented them is bleak.

According to Terry Durack, we should be asking  our retired community members to pull themselves out of retirement to help supplement the lack of workers.  I ask, “for what?” A few extra dollars in the hands of business owners who have already mis-managed the industry? We certainly aren't asking them to come back for good wages, or benefits, or a work life balance. But on top of this, I thought the whole point of working hard for the entirety of our short lives, and missing out on important events with our families was to be able to relax in our retirements. To catch up on lost time that we sacrificed at these lifeless family businesses. To enjoy the lives we worked so hard to build. But again thanks to the lack of social infrastructure and support for our elderly retired folks, they might not have a choice but to return to work, if they ever had the chance to leave work in the first place.

And then to proclaim that refugees and asylum seekers should be thought to serve us gives me the creeps and makes me think of the horrors being committed and the ones to come as we justify worse treatments for people who are simply seeking better lives than the ones we have ruined. When massive migrations of people come to our borders thanks to a climate crisis that the restaurant industry has a huge part to play in, I fear we will be treating them with this same kind of inhumanity, likely worse. 

And all of this in the name of a big fat tip? Screw that. I'm happy to see workers refusing to "bend the knee" to crap jobs in a crap industry that pretends to be more important than it is. 

I'm happy to see workers recognize that the way the industry has been run, by "industry professionals" is completely backwards and leaves us alienated from each other and our communities. The pretext that restaurants are public spaces that people can enjoy, was never true, and is increasingly clear as we see a lack of public spaces to exist during economic turmoil. 

And then there's me and you. What are we supposed to do in the light of this continued attitude that workers have to sacrifice their lives for the economic benefits of restaurants? 

Well, we could reject it, which seems to be happening to a certain degree. 

We are certainly seeing something happening with Starbucks and Amazon unionizing. 

We can certainly recognize our worth and demand better from our employers. We need to demand better for our future generations. We need to see sustainability be at the forefront, and we need to see that food guarantees are at the forefront of how the industry functions. With droughts, floods, fires and the increasing severity of climate change, restaurants will be the first to see supply chain issues, if they haven't already. Some might be the only ones able to access cheap ingredients, will they hoard them for paying customers? Or feed the community? Will chef's continue to cater to the rich, while they wither away in relative poverty, or will they stick true to their class roots and help feed the people? Who knows! The future right now is certainly uncertain and all we can do is hope to be organized enough to be ready when these questions need answers. 

Hopefully people who think this opinion piece is great aren't the ones with the loudest answers to present.

Op-Ed: Thank The Wobblies For What?

Two IWW members argue that mainstream media misrepresents their union and completely misses the point on what the Wobblies contribute to the class struggle. 

By Jean-Carl Elliot and Sylvain Pankhurst

Put bluntly, Malcolm Harris’s recent article for The Nation, “We Can Thank the Wobblies for the Biggest Labor Story of the Year" doesn’t really say much of substance about Wobblies (members of The Industrial Workers of the World, or “IWW” for short). That’s not unusual for mainstream coverage of the IWW and, in his defense, he did a better job than many, even citing “Labor Law for the Rank-and-Filer”: a short book that is influential among American IWW organizers. Nevertheless, by focusing on the public campaigns (Starbucks and Burgerville), the emphasis remains on the tip of the iceberg and misses what it is that separates the IWW from mainstream business unionism.

Harris also repeats the most consistent sin of mainstream commentators, relegating the IWW to an historical object, rather than acknowledging it as an existing (and growing) organization. While his chronology is a bit different, and he thankfully admits to the existence of the IWW in this century, he still posits that the IWW’s value as inspiration, implicitly saying “We should thank the IWW for SEIU Starbucks organizing.” On the contrary, we should thank the IWW of the early 2000s for the IWW of today – the IWW that has learned from the mistakes Harris holds up as a model.

For example, Harris lauds the activist element of the Starbucks Workers Union in targeting “the brand itself,” in a public relations-focused dimension of the campaign. This approach resulted in numerous firings, and ultimately played a part in the IWW removing “Going Public” as a module in its Organizer Training 101. In other words, the lesson that was drawn from the experience is actually the opposite of what the article suggests. What gave the Starbucks Workers Union its power, led to relatively sustained organizing in some cases, and what separates it from heavily media-driven unionization efforts was building relationships on the ground and winning changes with direct action.

Direct action, as a term and as a concept, is conspicuously absent from The Nation’s version of the IWW. While it acknowledges that the IWW has made use of “wildcat” actions and sabotage, it doesn’t stop to dwell on what exactly these were, or of their significance. It quite explicitly posits actions of this type as a sign of weakness – a last-ditch effort that workers resort to out of desperation in the absence of legal protections or contract language. In fact, the opposite is true!

What makes the IWW revolutionary is that it sets direct action and direct democracy as the defaults in organizing. One famous story that The Nation neglects to mention involves a group of IWW baristas who walked off the job during a shift when the temperature got too hot. They left their supervisor alone to deal with the heat and the impatient customers. They came back with a fan which had “Courtesy of the IWW” written on it, plugged it in and got back to work. Management installed fans immediately and arranged for an AC unit to be installed. There are dozens more stories like this, where concessions were won through workers exercising their power to disrupt the workplace.

In an IWW campaign, actions of this type don’t culminate in formal recognition and signing a collective bargaining agreement (CBA). Even in instances where a collective agreement might be signed, it is not an end unto itself. Rather than pointing toward “partners becoming partners” with management, the IWW strategy is prefigurative, “forming the structure of the new society within the shell of the old.” In less highfalutin terms, wobbly organizing teaches workers the skills of running things for ourselves. Rather than seeing workers’ empowerment as stopping at negotiating conditions with Starbucks, Amazon, or whichever petty small-business tyrants, it is about transforming the ways we relate to each other, and realizing our collective power to transform the conditions of our lives.

CBAs are as often a barrier to collective power as an asset. As time passes from the initial union drive, their purpose tends to increasingly be preservation of the legal status of the bargaining unit. And what tends to result is that “the union” becomes synonymous for the staff and paid people at the top who administer the contract. Workers will come and go, and their membership in the union only lasts as long as their employment at that particular shop. Everything from grievance handling to contract negotiations becomes the turf of an entrenched leadership, and workers pay dues to keep a “subscription” to their services. When an issue arises, workers are compelled to “work now, grieve later.” Instead of being dealt with by unionized workers collectively, shop floor problems are handed over for legal wrangling to people who may have never set foot in the workplace. This is exacerbated by the fact CBAs almost always (and always in Canada) contain a “no strike clause” which prohibits collective action during the life of the agreement. In some cases, workers, including IWW “dual card” members, have actually organized and taken action in defiance of the terms of CBAs.

The IWW model of solidarity unionism teaches workers the tools to execute actions on the job, in a concerted fashion with their coworkers. It shows how small actions can demonstrate the power of solidarity in order to recruit more workers to a campaign. When a worker leaves, they remain an IWW member, and can take these skills with them to future workplaces (and teach them to other workers).

One campaign that came up a bit more recently than the IWW Starbucks Organizing was an effort at dual carding with CUPW in Edmonton Canada. The campaign lasted about a decade, but many of the tactics built on the Starbucks organizing including dozens of “march on the boss” actions that had over 100 people participating at times. The campaign eventually subsided but not without forcing management to hire 200 more staff at a time when they were actually considering downsizing and layoffs.

The IWW preserved the legacy of these wins through writing articles and pamphlets and incorporating the lessons learned into its organizer trainings. Each year, the union trains hundreds of members in the basic tools of solidarity unionism that have been learned from Starbucks Workers Union and the campaigns that followed. With each training comes new organizers, with new organizers come new campaigns, with each campaign come new lessons, and with each new lesson comes revisions to the training. In other words, the legacy from the IWW Starbucks Workers Union is not just more union cards being signed; it’s more and improved organizers. The legacy isn’t more CBAs; it’s more organizing where workers ourselves wield power.