The following article was written by CLB director Han Dongfang and was published in the South China Morning Post. Copyright remains with the original publisher.
Enter the fire-breathing dragon?
Han Dongfang, CLB director
South China Morning Post
Published on 30 September 2006
The opening of trade union branches in many Wal-Mart stores on the mainland this summer was highly significant for two reasons. It was the first time that the traditionally anti-union US retail giant had been forced to permit a significant union presence in its stores anywhere in the world. Also, it was probably the first time since 1949 that the country's sole legal trade union - the All-China Federation of Trade Unions (ACFTU) - had actually mobilised or organised workers to take an active part in forming union branches.
The second reason may seem paradoxical, given that the ACFTU is the world's largest national body claiming to represent workers. But the explanation is clear enough: before the inception of the mainland's "socialist market economy", ACFTU cadres needed virtually none of the grass-roots organising skills vital to trade union organisations elsewhere. Since independent union organising of any kind was - and still remains - strictly illegal on the mainland, the ACFTU faced no competition.
Until the mid-1980s, when most of the nation's economy was still under state or collective ownership, the ACFTU had automatic right of entry into all workplaces. The Party Committee gave it office space, and all workers were enrolled as union members. Since private ownership was abolished after 1949, there were officially no "capitalist contradictions" between workers and employers - and the ACFTU's assigned role was simply to act as a "transmission belt for party policy" to the workforce.
All this changed with a vengeance after the explosion of the private economy in the early 1990s. Domestic and foreign-invested enterprises quickly began to rival the state-owned sector in economic efficiency and productivity. Tens of millions of migrant workers flocked from the countryside to provide the raw muscle driving the new economy. And the ACFTU's vast "union organising" division soon ran into a brick wall. Private capitalists and their investors had no intention of allowing trade unions on their premises, and union officials were unceremoniously shown the door.
Even today, only a small minority of private enterprises on the mainland have been unionised. This is despite the fact that factory owners are routinely offered major, and often unlawful, concessions to gain their co-operation. Company bosses who consent are usually allowed to nominate the members of the trade union committees. In many cases, the factory owner and trade union chairman are one and the same person.
But China's Trade Union Law stipulates that union branches must be set up in companies if the workers ask for them. Further, in any workplace with 25 or more employees, the workers can initiate the process of electing representatives and establishing a union branch. So why should the factory owner's permission be in any way necessary?
This is where party doctrine comes in: the ACFTU's role is actually to act as the "neutral mediator" on the country's labour-relations scene. For which read: it's the enforcer of labour discipline on behalf of management.
Only in 2001 was the Trade Union Law amended to specify, for the first time, that the union's purpose is "to represent workers' interests". Moreover, according to law, the employer must subsidise the union's operating expenses by providing it with 2 per cent of the total payroll each month. Still, union branches can only be formed if factory owners consent.
Surely Deng Xiaoping went too far in the late 1970s when he said class struggle in China had "basically come to an end". Certainly, the rising tide of labour unrest among the 150 million or so migrant workers suggests it is reviving. Once again, as in the pre-1949 period, most Chinese workers today are confronted by capitalist employers whose chief goal is to derive maximum profit from the lowest possible outlay, especially where wages and labour standards are concerned.
To its credit, the ACFTU fought a tough campaign throughout 2004 to compel Wal-Mart, Kodak, Dell and other foreign multinationals to permit union branches in their mainland stores and factories. In November that year, under threat of a lawsuit, Wal-Mart bowed to the inevitable by stating that if the company's "associates" (that is, workers) themselves asked for a union, it would not stand in their way. After that, the ACFTU resumed its old tactic of politely approaching management and asking for permission to set up unions. And again, Wal-Mart responded by "giving them cold gruel to eat", to use the local expression.
Finally this summer, the ACFTU summoned up its courage and did what the Trade Union Law had all along empowered it to do. It went into Wal-Mart's stores and actually tried to organise the workers. The results were remarkable: as of last week, union branches had been formed in no fewer than 47 of the company's 59 mainland stores.
The ACFTU's main challenge now is to prove that it is no longer the patsy of management. A litmus test will be how the ACFTU responds if the recently elected Wal-Mart union officers start demanding better working conditions and wages from the "bad boy" of the international retail industry.
If it gives the green light to such real union activities, a blow will have been struck for millions of as yet un-unionised mainland workers - and for the cause of international trade unionism.
It's not easy for a leopard to change its spots, but in this case the price of failure could be extinction. The mainland is now a capitalist economy, and the workforce needs a strong union on its side. If the ACFTU cannot perform this role, sooner or later the workers will look elsewhere. For now, though, China's official union is to be congratulated on taking a bold first step in the right direction.
Han Dongfang is the director of China Labour Bulletin, a Hong Kong-based labour rights group. www.clb.org.hk
Enter the fire-breathing dragon?
Han Dongfang, CLB director
South China Morning Post
Published on 30 September 2006
The opening of trade union branches in many Wal-Mart stores on the mainland this summer was highly significant for two reasons. It was the first time that the traditionally anti-union US retail giant had been forced to permit a significant union presence in its stores anywhere in the world. Also, it was probably the first time since 1949 that the country's sole legal trade union - the All-China Federation of Trade Unions (ACFTU) - had actually mobilised or organised workers to take an active part in forming union branches.
The second reason may seem paradoxical, given that the ACFTU is the world's largest national body claiming to represent workers. But the explanation is clear enough: before the inception of the mainland's "socialist market economy", ACFTU cadres needed virtually none of the grass-roots organising skills vital to trade union organisations elsewhere. Since independent union organising of any kind was - and still remains - strictly illegal on the mainland, the ACFTU faced no competition.
Until the mid-1980s, when most of the nation's economy was still under state or collective ownership, the ACFTU had automatic right of entry into all workplaces. The Party Committee gave it office space, and all workers were enrolled as union members. Since private ownership was abolished after 1949, there were officially no "capitalist contradictions" between workers and employers - and the ACFTU's assigned role was simply to act as a "transmission belt for party policy" to the workforce.
All this changed with a vengeance after the explosion of the private economy in the early 1990s. Domestic and foreign-invested enterprises quickly began to rival the state-owned sector in economic efficiency and productivity. Tens of millions of migrant workers flocked from the countryside to provide the raw muscle driving the new economy. And the ACFTU's vast "union organising" division soon ran into a brick wall. Private capitalists and their investors had no intention of allowing trade unions on their premises, and union officials were unceremoniously shown the door.
Even today, only a small minority of private enterprises on the mainland have been unionised. This is despite the fact that factory owners are routinely offered major, and often unlawful, concessions to gain their co-operation. Company bosses who consent are usually allowed to nominate the members of the trade union committees. In many cases, the factory owner and trade union chairman are one and the same person.
But China's Trade Union Law stipulates that union branches must be set up in companies if the workers ask for them. Further, in any workplace with 25 or more employees, the workers can initiate the process of electing representatives and establishing a union branch. So why should the factory owner's permission be in any way necessary?
This is where party doctrine comes in: the ACFTU's role is actually to act as the "neutral mediator" on the country's labour-relations scene. For which read: it's the enforcer of labour discipline on behalf of management.
Only in 2001 was the Trade Union Law amended to specify, for the first time, that the union's purpose is "to represent workers' interests". Moreover, according to law, the employer must subsidise the union's operating expenses by providing it with 2 per cent of the total payroll each month. Still, union branches can only be formed if factory owners consent.
Surely Deng Xiaoping went too far in the late 1970s when he said class struggle in China had "basically come to an end". Certainly, the rising tide of labour unrest among the 150 million or so migrant workers suggests it is reviving. Once again, as in the pre-1949 period, most Chinese workers today are confronted by capitalist employers whose chief goal is to derive maximum profit from the lowest possible outlay, especially where wages and labour standards are concerned.
To its credit, the ACFTU fought a tough campaign throughout 2004 to compel Wal-Mart, Kodak, Dell and other foreign multinationals to permit union branches in their mainland stores and factories. In November that year, under threat of a lawsuit, Wal-Mart bowed to the inevitable by stating that if the company's "associates" (that is, workers) themselves asked for a union, it would not stand in their way. After that, the ACFTU resumed its old tactic of politely approaching management and asking for permission to set up unions. And again, Wal-Mart responded by "giving them cold gruel to eat", to use the local expression.
Finally this summer, the ACFTU summoned up its courage and did what the Trade Union Law had all along empowered it to do. It went into Wal-Mart's stores and actually tried to organise the workers. The results were remarkable: as of last week, union branches had been formed in no fewer than 47 of the company's 59 mainland stores.
The ACFTU's main challenge now is to prove that it is no longer the patsy of management. A litmus test will be how the ACFTU responds if the recently elected Wal-Mart union officers start demanding better working conditions and wages from the "bad boy" of the international retail industry.
If it gives the green light to such real union activities, a blow will have been struck for millions of as yet un-unionised mainland workers - and for the cause of international trade unionism.
It's not easy for a leopard to change its spots, but in this case the price of failure could be extinction. The mainland is now a capitalist economy, and the workforce needs a strong union on its side. If the ACFTU cannot perform this role, sooner or later the workers will look elsewhere. For now, though, China's official union is to be congratulated on taking a bold first step in the right direction.
Han Dongfang is the director of China Labour Bulletin, a Hong Kong-based labour rights group. www.clb.org.hk