WHY THE UNION WON AT SMITHFIELD
By David Bacon
The American Prospect | December 17, 2008 | web only
http://www.prospect.org/cs/articles?article=unions_come_to_smithfield

        When immigration agents raided Smithfield 
Food's huge North Carolina slaughterhouse two 
years ago, organizer Eduardo Peña compared the 
impact to a "nuclear bomb."  The day after, 
people were so scared that most of the plant's 
5,000 employees didn't show up for work.  The 
lines where they kill and cut apart 32,000 hogs 
every day were motionless.
        Yet on December 11, when the votes were 
counted in the same packing plant, 2,041 workers 
had voted to join the United Food and Commercial 
Workers (UFCW) , while just 1,879 had voted 
against it.  That stunning reversal set off 
celebrations in house trailers and ramshackle 
homes in Tarheel, Red Springs, Santa Paula, and 
all the tiny working class towns spread from 
Fayetteville down to the South Carolina border. 
        Relief and happiness are understandable 
in North Carolina, where union membership is the 
lowest in the country.  But Smithfield workers 
were not just celebrating a vote count.  They'd 
just defeated one of the longest, most bitter 
anti-union campaigns in modern U.S. labor 
history.  Their victory  was the product of an 
organizing strategy that accomplished what many 
have said that U.S. unions can no longer do - 
organize huge, privately-owned factories.

        In 1994 and 1997, Smithfield workers 
voted in two union representation elections, both 
lost by the UFCW.   In 1997 the head of plant 
security, Danny Priest, told local sheriffs he 
expected violence on election day. Police in riot 
gear then lined the walkway into the 
slaughterhouse, and workers had to file past them 
to cast their ballots. At the end of the vote 
count union activist Ray Shawn was beaten up 
inside the plant. Three years later Priest, while 
still head of plant security, became an auxiliary 
deputy sheriff, and plant security officers were 
given the power to arrest and detain people at 
work. The company maintained a holding area for 
detainees in a trailer on the property, which 
workers called the company jail. (Smithfield gave 
up its deputized force and detention center in 
2005.)
        Management used such extensive 
intimidation tactics that both elections were 
thrown out by the National Labor Relations Board. 
In 2006 the NLRB forced Smithfield to rehire 
workers fired in 1994 for union activity, and pay 
them $1.1 million.  That was a victory for the 
union, but workers on the line could also easily 
see that Smithfield lawyers kept union supporters 
out of work for over a decade, in violation of the law.
        In 2003 contract workers for QSI, a 
company that cleans the machinery at night, 
finally challenged that atmosphere of fear. 
According to Julio Vargas, a QSI employee, "the 
wages were very low and we had no medical 
insurance. When people got hurt, after being 
taken to the office they made them go back to 
work and wear pink helmets [to humiliate them]. 
We were fed up."  Led by Vargas, the cleaning 
crew refused to go in to work.  The company 
negotiated, and workers won concessions. The 
following week, however, those identified as 
ringleaders, like Vargas, lost their jobs.
        Nevertheless, a new group of UFCW 
organizers understood the importance of that work 
stoppage.   "We're not going to give the company 
a chance to use union busters anymore," said 
Peña. "We're asking workers to take direct action 
on the plant floor to improve their own 
conditions."  So the union set up a workers' 
center in nearby Red Springs, holding classes in 
English and labor rights. Vargas and other fired 
workers went to work for the UFCW, organizing 
discontent over high line speed and its human 
cost in injuries. Workers began to stop 
production lines to get the company to talk with 
them about health and safety problems.

        In April, 2006, as immigrant protests 
spread across the country, 300 Smithfield workers 
stayed out of work and marched through the 
streets of nearby Wilmington.  On May 1 they 
paraded again, this time by the thousands. 
        Those heady days, however, were followed 
by a series of immigration enforcement actions 
orchestrated between the company and Immigration 
and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents.  On October 
30, 2006, the plant's human resources department 
sent letters to hundreds of immigrant workers, 
saying the Social Security numbers they'd 
provided when they were hired didn't match the 
government's database.  Managers gave them two 
weeks to come up with new ones.
        "On November 13 over 30 were escorted out 
of the plant," recalled Peña. "Many felt they had 
nothing to lose."  That Thursday over 300 workers 
walked out.   They met at a local hotel, came up 
with a list of demands, and got church leaders to 
intercede with the company.  Smithfield agreed to 
a 60-day extension, and to rehire those already 
terminated.  "It's hard to imagine how empowered 
people felt," Peña recalled.
        The success of the workplace action 
impressed  African American workers, who at the 
time made up about 40 percent  of the workforce. 
Union supporters collected 4000 signatures asking 
the company to give employees the day off on Rev. 
Martin Luther King Jr's birthday.  A delegation 
took the petitions to the human resources office, 
but a company vice-president refused to accept 
them.  When they were denied the holiday, 400 
workers didn't come in anyway, and virtually shut 
down the plant again.
        "Unity between immigrant Latino and 
African American workers was essential to 
organizing a union," said Gene Bruskin, then the 
director of the UFCW's Justice at Smithfield 
campaign, and the drive's principal strategist. 
In the earlier campaigns, divisions between the 
two groups contributed to the union's defeat.
        Nine days after the Martin Luther King 
day action ICE agents came out to the plant in 
their first raid.  After they arrested  21 people 
for deportation, and questioned  hundreds in the 
factory lunchroom, fear grew so intense that most 
workers didn't show up the following day.  A few 
months later, a similar raid took place. 
"Workers think it's happening because people were 
getting organized," said Vargas at the time.  
        The percentage of immigrants began to 
decline as many Latino workers were forced out of 
the plant.  Eventually, the ratio between Blacks 
and Latinos was reversed.  The immigrant 
workforce shrank to about 40 percent, while the 
percentage of African Americans rose to 60 
percent.  At that point, however, African 
American workers became more active in the 
unionization campaign.  Union workers eventually 
collected the signatures of about half the 
plant's employees, demanding that the company 
agree to recognize the UFCW.  At the end of a 
noisy march, they presented the petitions at a 
company shareholders meeting.  Meanwhile, UFCW 
organizers began using the violation of workers' 
rights to mobilize customer pressure against 
Smithfield.  Union and community activists 
collected thousands of signatures on petitions 
asking store chains to find another pork 
supplier, and the city of Boston stopped 
purchasing Smithfield products.
        Inside the plant, militant activity began 
to rise again.  One key moment came when Juan 
Navarro wrote "Union Time" with a felt pen on his 
helmet.  Supervisors called him in, and took away 
his helmet.  Navarro worked on the kill floor 
where a majority of the workers are Black.  When 
he went back to the line, the other workers 
decided to back him up.  "Union Time" appeared on 
their helmets too, and eventually spread 
throughout the plant, becoming the slogan of the 
union campaign.  Smithfield was even forced to 
apologize to Navarro.
        In the back room of the tiny Mexican 
market down the road from the plant, the union 
committee started meeting before and after work. 
Black and Puerto Rican activists would then take 
leaflets and union newsletters into the plant and 
walk through the halls, into the break rooms, 
handing them to their coworkers.
        When Martin Luther King's birthday 
approached in 2008, the union passed out a 
leaflet telling workers to "hold the date."  This 
time, the company not only gave Tarheel workers 
the holiday, but let workers take the day off in 
every non-union Smithfield plant.  One union 
activist observed that the increased activity 
among African American workers gave a kind of 
cover to the Mexicans, allowing them to regain 
some of their former activism without feeling 
they had a target painted on their backs.  At the 
same time, Puerto Rican workers also became more 
vocal, giving the union another voice in Spanish 
from workers who aren't immigrants at all.
        The company responded to rising pressure 
both inside and outside the plant by filing a 
racketeering suit against the union.  It demanded 
the same kind of NLRB election it had won in 1994 
and 1997, and accused the union of being 
anti-democratic when it would not agree to repeat 
the bitter experience of the past. 
        As a trial grew close, the union and the 
company agreed to an election procedure that 
workers and organizers felt would keep Smithfield 
from using the old bare-knuckle tactics.  The 
union won the right to access to the plant 
premises, and organizers were able to walk the 
halls themselves, to sit in the lunchrooms and 
talk with workers, explaining the potential 
benefits of unionization.  The company was able 
to hold a limited set of "captive audience" 
meetings, which workers were required to attend, 
where they heard management's anti-union speeches 
and watched anti-union videos.  But the union 
also won the right to limit those speeches, 
keeping out threats and overt intimidation.
        In the meantime, the lunchrooms became 
hubs of union activity, with "Union Time" visible 
on helmets, leaflets, and buttons   To union 
activists, visibility inside the plant meant 
that, in the eyes of workers, the union had some 
power.  Coupled with concessions on things like 
the King holiday, and a history of protest over 
accidents and line speed, it became clear the 
union could actually win changes.  At the same 
time, workers were the union's visible leaders. 
Despite the firings and immigration raids, many 
veteran union supporters stayed active in the 
campaign.  Union organizers spent countless hours 
with those leaders, talking about tactics and 
helping make decisions about the course of the 
campaign.
        And when the ballots were counted, the union won.

        Efforts by the modern U.S. labor movement 
to organize factories the size of the Tarheel 
plant have not been very successful for the last 
two decades.  In fact, private-sector 
unionization has fallen below 8 percent of the 
workforce.  The giant electronics plants of 
Silicon Valley have an anti-union strategy so 
intimidating that unions haven't even tried to 
organize them for years.  Japanese car 
manufacturers have built assembly plants and 
successfully kept workers from organizing, in 
spite of efforts by the auto union. 
        The price for the lack of a successful 
strategy to organize those Japanese plants became 
clear in December's Congressional debate over the 
auto bailout proposal, when Southern Republican 
Senators demanded that the United Auto Workers 
agree to gut its union contracts to match the 
non-union wages and conditions at Nissan, Honda 
and BMW.  The presence of the non-union plants 
now threatens to destroy the union.  The same 
dilemma exists in industry after industry.
        To get out of the box, today's labor 
movement pins its hopes on the Employee Free 
Choice Act.  This proposal would require a 
company like Smithfield to negotiate a union 
contract if a majority of workers sign union 
cards.  It would avoid the kind of union election 
that took place in 1997, where the idea of voting 
freely became a farce in an atmosphere of 
violence and terror.  EFCA would also put 
penalties on employers who fire workers for union 
activity.  At Smithfield, the company was only 
obliged to pay fired workers for their lost 
wages, and even then was allowed to deduct any 
money they'd earned during the decade their cases 
wound through the legal system.  EFCA would 
substantially restrict the kind of anti-union 
campaign Smithfield mounted for  15 years.
        But EFCA by itself will not build strong 
unions, which workers can use not just to win 
elections but to make substantial changes in the 
workplace itself.  The union at Smithfield wasn't 
created on election day by a fairer legal 
process.  Workers had already organized it in the 
battles that preceded the vote. They did much 
more than sign union cards, go to a few meetings, 
or cast ballots.  They had to lose their fear, 
show open support for the demands they'd chosen 
themselves, and learn to make management listen 
to those demands by slowing down lines, 
circulating petitions and forming delegations to 
demand changes.  Those battles hardened the 
leaders who survived. 
        And if African American and Latino 
immigrant workers hadn't found a way to work 
together, the union drive would have ended with 
the immigration raids. Immigration enforcement 
was used to attack the union drive, and for 
months after the no-match letter and the two 
raids, the organizing campaign was effectively 
dead.  At Smithfield and elsewhere, enforcement 
of immigration law itself has become  a way to 
punish workers when they try to improve 
conditions.  It was only when the African 
American workers who'd fought the first battle 
for the King holiday became the core of a new 
generation of leaders that the struggle to build 
the union could continue.  Immigration raids 
didn't help Black or other citizen workers - they 
increased the fear, reduced the activity, 
eliminated leaders, and added months, if not 
years, to the time needed to rebuild.
        In the end, both African Americans and 
immigrant workers found a common interest in 
better wages and working conditgions.  But they 
also had to agree to defend the right of each 
worker to her or his job - any unfair firing was 
an attack on the union, whether the victim was 
Black, Mexican, or Puerto Rican.  If the company 
and ICE had been successful in convincing half 
the plant that the other half really had no right 
to work because of their immigration status, 
workers would have been unwilling and unable to 
defend each other.
        The root of the problem lies in employer 
sanctions, the provision of Federal law that 
prohibits employers from hiring undocumented 
workers.  The law, in effect makes working a 
crime for people without papers, and hands 
employers a weapon to fight their own workforce. 
When unions decided at the AFL-CIO convention in 
1999 to call for repeal of sanctions, they 
recognized that changing immigration law was just 
as necessary for organizing unions as passing 
reforms like EFCA.
        Outside the Tarheel plant, the union grew 
roots in working-class communities.  It organized 
a permanent coalition with churches and community 
organizations, not just a temporary arrangement 
of convenience.  It became part of workers' 
lives.  They met in its office, took English 
classes there, and marched in demonstrations for 
civil rights.  And that coalition was able to 
turn the company's anti-labor activity against 
it, exposing its record in the place where 
Smithfield was most vulnerable - in the eyes of 
consumers.
        Without pressure from workers and their 
communities, Smithfield had no motivation to 
reach an agreement on a fair election process. 
The election result, therefore, was the product 
of a long-term organizing effort and commitment. 
Smithfield workers and the UFCW have shown that 
with a similar commitment organizing is possible, 
no matter how big the plant or anti-union the 
employer.  But it takes a strategy based on 
building a real union in the workplace and 
community.  And with changes in labor and 
immigration law, workers won't have to conduct a 
15-year war to do it.


For more articles and images, see http://dbacon.igc.org

Just out from Beacon Press:
Illegal People -- How Globalization Creates 
Migration and Criminalizes Immigrants
http://www.beacon.org/productdetails.cfm?PC=2002

See also the photodocumentary on indigenous migration to the US
Communities Without Borders (Cornell University/ILR Press, 2006)
http://www.cornellpress.cornell.edu/cup_detail.taf?ti_id=4575

See also The Children of NAFTA, Labor Wars on the 
U.S./Mexico Border (University of California, 
2004)
http://www.ucpress.edu/books/pages/9989.html
-- 
__________________________________

David Bacon, Photographs and Stories
http://dbacon.igc.org

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