Labor's Two Worlds

AN ANGRY truck driver unloads his cargo, slams his door, and screams at the camera, "If the Democrats are so good for working people, why are there so many people out of work? You can be sure I'll vote Republican this year." The political advertisement showed the frustration among American workers with President Carter and the liberal ideals that governed American policy-making for nearly a half-century. Polls indicate that as much as one-half of the nation's blue-collar voters supported Reagan in the 1980 presidential election, giving this longstanding foe of organized labor a lopsided electoral victory in such traditionally Democratic states as Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana and Michigan.

But in recent months, leaders from all quarters of organized labor have mounted a political assault on the president and his conservative economic policies. Organized labor's chief rallying-point has been Reagan's dismissal of 12,000 striking professional air traffic controllers, and the success of Polish workers in establishing an independent union in opposition to their government's wishes. The most visible demonstration of labor's disenchantment with the current administration will be Solidarity Day, a chance for workers from all across the country to march on Washington and protest Reagan's stance toward labor. Speaking at the recent Labor Day parade in New York, United Auto Workers president Douglas A. Fraser tried to drum up support for the protest: "There is little for workers to celebrate on this Labor Day. It is indeed the worse year for labor in over five decades."

Labor leaders have tried to impress upon the public the total unity of working people in this effort. Even AFL-CIO president Lane Kirkland, a staunch anti-communist who has eschewed all ties with the more leftist of European labor federations, would not deny reports that the American Communist Party is among Solidarity Day's sponsors. Yet, even if the march attracts a large turnout, true labor solidarity will not yet exist. In spite of the AFL-CIO support for Carter, millions of rank-and-file workers turned out for a candidate who has traditionally opposed the minimum wage, social programs assisting the working poor, and the reform of labor laws making unionization easier. They voted for a candidate who has expressed enthusiasm for right-to-work laws and described trade unions as monopolistic restrainers of trade.

The economy's dismal performance under Carter cannot entirely explain Reagan's appeal to working class voters, nor can the ex-president's apparently inept handling of foreign policy. At least as much of the answer lies with the vast divergence in economic conditions and resulting political interests among the nation's workers. Painting stagnation in the economy as a consequence of excessive taxation and regulation, while blaming inflation on social welfare programs and the government deficit, Reagan provided a vision of future policies that could indeed jibe with the interests of a large group or organized labor.

Ironically, the union that symbolizes best the group of workers closest to the President is the Professional Air Traffic Controllers Union, which in fact endorsed Reagan as a candidate. The PATCO employees, along with workers in such heavy industries as steel, automobiles, petroleum refining, mining, construction, and most defense-related industries have annual incomes significantly above the U.S. median. The gap in wages and benefits between these workers and those in lighter, more labor-intensive industries such as textiles, furniture, jewelry, and all sorts of non-professional service has increased steadily since the Second World War. In 1950, the typical ladies' garment worker's wages were 67 per cent of the typical automobile worker's. By 1979, that figure had dropped to 48 per cent.

The appeal to the middle-class, blue collar workers of Reagan's conservative economic policies was just as successful as their pitch to white-collar counterparts and businessmen. In fact, Reagan's campaign strategy involved side-stepping union leadership, whose political alliances could only remain with the Democrats, and wooing the rank-and-file with appeals to patriotism and traditional values. That a large number of workers accepted a candidate aggressively opposed to organized labor is not difficult to understand. An active interest in bread-and-butter labor issues naturally wanes with the achievement of middle-class status and solidly entrenched bargaining positions. The fight to defend the minimum wage against right-to-work laws, and for reform of labor laws to cope with the surge of unfair union-busting campaigns, could only be of marginal interst to the well-paid workers for whom the world of J.P. Stevens is far away.

The interests of these middle-class workers mesh nicely with the principles and promises of Reagan's supply-side philosophy. Not only would his across-the-board reductions in personal income taxes be popular among workers earning $20,000 annually, but the projected increase in industrial output resulting from savings increases, corporate tax breaks, and defense expenditures seem to promise higher employment in the capital-intensive, high-wage industrial sector.

The workers who supported Reagan probably don't care that he offered little but a far-away trickle-down effect to workers without powerful unions behind them; that Reagan opposed any advance of the American trade union movement; or that the proposed rearmament of America would be at the expense of the CETA and Social Security payments. So, it is up to us to wonder exactly what if any solidarity exists among American working people in the United States. Although union leaders defend the air traffic controllers strike officially, they must have little sympathy for PATCO because the growing trend of strikes by public employee has loomed large in the declining popularity of organized labor. The president's legislative successes this summer in implementing the proposals that attracted many blue-collar workers last November can hardly be a cause of solidarity now.

For all its attempts at word association, Solidarity Day is in no way an emulation of the Polish worker's struggle against their government, but a deliberate attempt by union leadership to restore the public confidence in American labor unions. But the president's heavy-handed handling of the air traffic controllers strike may have afforded the AFL-CIO a chance to bring back some of the romantic mythology that grew out of labor's advance during the Progressive and Depression eras, a tradition now neglected as workers strived for and achieved middle-class status.

Solidarity Day provides more of the blueprint for rebuilding the loyalty between workers and their own leadership than among workers of different unions with little common interest. Right now, there can only be solidarity in opposition to Reagan. If the American labor leadership is serious in its commitment to obtain decent wages and working conditions for all workers, it must impress the members of its unions, and all non-union workers also, that the welfare of the working poor is worth sacrificing for and that they, in their current prosperity, should not neglect their roots.