9. Exposing the Hypocrisy of Reforms: the Escalation of Strike Activity by Black Workers., 1979-80

Our strength lies in the economy. We have the strength to bring the economy to its knees.

General Motors worker, July 1980

African workers in South Africa have consistently realized the potential power exercised by the withdrawal of their labour power. It is this aspect which represents the other side of their collective response to the Wichahn legislation, for despite the new "dispensation", strike activity continued during 1979 and escalated to new heights in 1980.

These workers have been struggling throughout this century to be incorporated into the industrial relations system on an equal basis, but the new legislation makes a mockery of that historical demand of black workers. The legal "right to strike for African workers remains fraught with complicated and lengthy procedures even after the introduction of the IC Amendment Act. It is indeed an indictment of the South African labour relations system to reveal that of all strikes by African workers from 1973 to 1979, only one was a "legal" strike, and all but one of the 61 strikes occurring between January and September 1980 were illegal.

In 1979, there were 36 reported strikes involving about 21,000 workers; by the end of August 1980 there were 61 reported strikes involving approximately 95,000 workers. The intensification of strike activity by African workers in particular, at exactly the same time as the implications of the new labour legislation are being exposed, demonstrates the state's impotence in the face of workers' unity. It also testifies to the inherent weakness in the EEC Codes of Conduct, the Sullivan Principles and all other attempts to stifle or contain working class resistance in South Africa. Most of all, it demonstrates the courage and tenacity of the black working class who, while faced with sky-rocketing unemployment (said to be over 2.5 million) and no job security, still dare to challenge the bosses on a regular basis.

Throughout the 1970s, workers have resorted to various forms of struggle in order to win basic demands, e.g. the right to organize freely and to improve collectively their standard of living. In the early 1970s these struggles were factory-based and centred on recognition of worker-controlled organizations. During the Soweto uprisings in 1976, workers carried out general political strikes in support of the student demands and also as an expression of their opposition to the entire apartheid system. An increasingly evident trend in the latter years of the decade centred on a new form of struggle - combining both the economic and political, involving the work place and the community in strike actions. This form of action manifested itself in strikes organized by workers concentrated in certain union organizations, although other forms of strike activity continued as well. All strikes taken by African workers were in effect an expression of defiance, of resistance to any new means of control imposed by the apartheid regime in whatever form. And because of the nature of state repression in South Africa, issues involved in a single strike can easily be linked with the struggle against the entire social order, not just the individual employers.

In mid-1980, the ghost of 1977 had returned to haunt South Africa, as one journalist wrote. At the end of May, 7,000 textile workers from the Frame Group of companies came out on strike, demanding an immediate 25 per cent increase in wages. This was the same group which had been the focus of African workers' grievances during the 1973 strikes, the notorious empire founded upon the exploitation of plentiful and cheap black labour power.

Many of the Frame workers were receiving R23 a week, just over half of the Household Subsistence Level for Durban (calculated as the minimum a family of five needs to live on, and allowing only for bare necessities like food and rent).

Minimum wage rates were R23 a week for men, R18 for women. In 1974, they had been R13 and R10.40 respectively, but when inflation is taken into account the current minima worked out as R 11.95 and R9.61 at 1974 prices. This meant that the buying power of Frame workers had actually decreased over the six years. Other studies showed that in 1980 the black unskilled worker was in real terms 5 per cent worse off than he was during the 12 months of upheaval during 1973. According to the Chamber of Industries survey on wage structures, the average weekly basic minimum wage for a black unskilled male was R37.83 in 1980. Seven years before it was R18. Gauged on the official 115 per cent increase in the cost of living over the same period, it left a shortfall of 5 per cent.

Another feature of the strikes was the failure of negotiations with the Group's liaison committee. The Frame Group has never been willing to recognize a union and the NUTW (FOSATU) has had to use a different tactic - that of urging shop stewards to stand in liaison committee elections and thus gain control of the committee. Hence, worker representatives on the committee at Frame were mostly union shop stewards, but they soon realized the complete impotence of such committees. A FOSATU statement explained:

The strike has occurred firstly because of the extremely low wages paid by the Frame Group and it continues because management refuses to allow a proper negotiating structure to develop. The absence of such structures gives workers no constructive avenues to present their grievances and the result is mass walkouts and angry meetings. The provocation in these cases is at the hands of the management and the state. Instead of allowing constructive negotiation with representative unions, statements are made about outside agitators and the police are called in to intervene in the dispute. Workers at Frame are paid wages which are too low to live on. We call on management to stop avoiding this issue and to negotiate with workers about pay. We call on the state to keep the police out of the dispute and instead encourage management to meet directly and immediately with the workers.

The strike focused attention not only on wages, but also on the representation of black workers at the point of production. Employers and the state responded in typical fashion. Tension spread to the Clermont township and police tear-gassed hostel dwellers marching to the industrial area of New Germany as well as residents. Seven people were arrested in connection with the strikes at Frametex factory. Three of them were members of the committee - Jabulani Gwala, chairman, Samson Cele and Mpingose Nzama - and were charged with participating in and abetting an illegal strike. FOSATU secretary Alec Erwin called this "the final nail in the coffin" for the liaison committee system.

By 4 June 117 black workers had been fired from the five Frame factories, many of them union shop stewards, liaison committee members or workers whom management had identified as "ring leaders". Most of the Frame Group workers returned to work on 8 June after the NUTW had advised them to end the 11-day strike and accept management's offer of a 15 per cent wage increase to be followed by a 10 per cent increase in January. Having won the highest increase ever awarded by the Frame Group, the union considered it a victory for the workers.

This is merely one of many strikes focusing on wage increases which occurred in 1979 and 1980. Yet even this example was not restricted solely to the issue of higher wages; union recognition battles continued to be fought.

In South Africa, the moment black workers withdraw their labour power from any industry or establishment, they are in fact entering into the arena of political as well as economic struggle. Within the capitalist system there appears to be a complete separation between the work place and community; exploitation takes place in the work place and looks as though It has nothing at all to do with the state, and conversely community problems are seen as the fault of the state alone. Hence, this often results in separate and parallel working class struggles: trade unions try to win more from the bosses, while civic associations try to win more from the town councils.

However, problems in the community like high rents and transportation costs (e.g. bus fares) are connected with the exploitation in the work place through the wage which has to meet all costs of consumption. Poverty in the home is directly caused by exploitation at the point of production. Then, of course, there is the myriad of restrictions and controls placed on the black worker which compound the problems of everyday life even more: the pass laws, influx controls and the destruction of black family life via the migrant labour system. Finally, the ease and frequency with which the state intervenes in the capital/labour conflict makes a mockery of any separation of economic and political struggle. It is no wonder that black workers in South Africa do not clearly distinguish between employers and the government; in fact, with this advanced consciousness, black workers are less likely to revert to mere economism.

What does seem to be a distinguishing feature of these most recent strikes is the extent to which the black community-based organizations have acted in a support capacity for the workers. Not only has there been an increasing degree of labour militancy, but an increasingly strong link between trade unions and community organization especially in the Cape Province.

The first of these strikes occurred at the Fatti's and Moni's factory in Bellville South (Cape) beginning in April 1979 - a historic strike that reverberated throughout the national and even international community.

On Monday, 23 April 1979, five workers at the Fatti's and Moni's factory (milling section) were dismissed. No reasons were given. All five were active members of the Food and Canning Workers Union, the registered union with coloured members and one of the most militant in the history of South African trade unionism. Five more workers were retrenched on Tuesday after they had asked for the reasons for the dismissal of their fellow workers the day before. On Wednesday, 78 workers walked out in protest against these arbitrary actions by the boss.

On the day of the strike, a negotiator from the department of labour told the workers assembled outside the factory that unless they returned to work they faced a fine of R200 each and would be locked up. Five white men from the department then told African workers to stand on one side and the coloured workers on the other side, arguing that the African workers could not belong to the "registered union". The workers refused to separate along racial lines and replied: "We are all workers working for the same firm."

Such a demonstration of unity remained strong throughout the strike. In fact, since the establishment of the FCWU in 1941, this brand of non-racial trade unionism has been a consistent feature of the union's struggles. Even though forced under the threat of deregistration to form a separate union for African workers (AFCWU) in 1947, these two unions have always operated as "one and the same". Throughout the 1950s and 1960s they provided strength to SACTU and have consistently upheld the traditions of SACTU since the latter was forced underground.

In August 1978, the union began organizing in the Bellville factory and had built up a membership of over half of its 250 workers. At the beginning of 1979, the union was asked by its members in the milling section to negotiate an increase in wages. Workers wanted a minimum wage of R40 a week, an eight-hour day with fixed tea and lunch breaks and an annual three-week period of leave. At the time of the strike, male workers were earning an average of R32 per week and females between R19 and R27 per week, despite long service records. A petition putting forward the demands was signed by 45 workers and presented to management. The firm broke off talks with the unions, ignoring their demands. Workers were told by management that their union's demands were "inconsistent with government policy", meaning that their wage demands would be "inflationary".

The registered union prepared to apply to the department of labour to have a conciliation board appointed. Ten days later the first five workers, all involved in drawing up the application, were dismissed. After the massive walk-out in late April 1979, the workers remained strong and united until victory came in November.

A major feature of this particular strike was the way in which the community wholeheartedly supported the striking workers. The union called for a boycott of Fatti's and Moni's products and it was successfully launched on 11 May. Beginning with university and college students pledging their support (from the University of the Western Cape, Bellville Teachers Training College, Bellville College of Advanced Technical Education, and Hewat Training College), the boycott caught on rapidly and soon snowballed throughout the region and then nationally. Within a few months it was supported by a wide range of organizations, including the 14,000 strong Union of Teachers' Association of South Africa, the South African Council of Sport (SACOS), the Labour Party, and the Western Cape Traders' Association which represents some 2,000 black traders in the area. Various trade unions, Inkatha and the Soweto Committee of Ten also joined in the boycott. Local bakeries, e.g. the Silverton Bakery, came out in support and suspended all purchases of flour from the Fatti's and Moni's factory.

Although management claimed that the boycott had no effect on sales, Fatti's profits were almost halved in the six months preceding July 1979. The Johannesburg head office confirmed that profits for January to July were R186,000 compared with R363,000 for the same period in 1978.

The boycott moved into a new stage when the Western Province African Chamber of Commerce joined in solidarity with the workers. Three days after the black shops in the townships ceased to buy Fatti's and Moni's bread the administration manager of the company went to see Mandla of WPACC at his home to set up a meeting to negotiate the reinstatement of the workers. Mandla insisted that the union be included in such negotiations, bringing the end of the strike a step closer.

It has been widely acknowledged that this expression of solidarity from the community had a significant effect on management's eventual willingness to negotiate terms and put an end to the strike. Even Mr Moni himself admitted that the boycott was having a serious adverse effect on the "image" of his company; however, he still denied a drop in profits as a result of the dispute.

Throughout the seven month-long strike the workers were given R15 a week and one free meal a day by the union. Workers and union officials met daily in a Bellville hall and regularly discussed the strike in detail. Trade union support came from various international unions and centres, including the International Union of Food and Allied Workers (IUF).

Although management tried various tactics to undermine the union and break the strike, they failed miserably. One tactic was to visit the workers individually and try to persuade them to return to work, sometimes with offers of up to R50. They were, of course, backed up by the ubiquitous state apparatus. Early in July, 20 uniformed and plainclothes policemen questioned several of the workers at their daily meeting in a Bellville hotel, asking who were contract workers, who had organized the strike, and who had given them stickers supporting the boycott.

Western Cape Administration Board inspectors twice raided houses belonging to Fatti's and Moni's where most of the workers still lived. Forty of the strikers were contract workers from the Ciskei who, by striking, lost their right to live and work in the Peninsula. During the course of the dispute, four of them were charged with being in the Peninsula for longer than 72 hours. They were found guilty and sentenced to a R50 fine or 50 days' imprisonment, suspended for 14 days subject to their leaving the area or obtaining permission to remain from the administration board within that time period. At one point it was discovered that one of the workers was a Special Branch agent.

From the beginning of the strike, the state and management tried unsuccessfully to break down the solidarity between African and coloured workers. Department of labour officials attempted to deal with each group of workers separately and management made racist remarks to the press, e.g. that "the Africans don't really understand what is happening, they are just being led by the Coloureds". The workers' unity remained strong in the face of these attacks, however; they refused to let anything destroy the solidarity that existed among them, regardless of colour. The Western Province General Workers Union (WPGWU) commented that never before had workers stayed out so long, and that cooperation between coloured and African workers had added "a new dimension to worker unity".

The final settlement: At various stages during the strike certain organizations acted as mediators to convene meetings between the union and management, mainly because of the reluctance of the latter to meet with the former as the legitimate representative of the workers. Representatives from the South African Council of Churches, the WPACC, the WCTA and the Cape Chamber of Industries acted in this capacity on different occasions.

The settlement reached on 8 November 1979 was described by Jan Theron (general secretary of FCWU) as a "great victory for the remaining 56 workers and for the union", but a victory ,'gained at a tremendous price to the workers, their families and the union".

Of major importance in the settlement was the basic fact that employers had signed a contract with an unregistered union (AFCWU); both FCWU and AFCWU were referred to jointly as "the union" in the agreement. The terms of the final settlement were as follows:

• All the strikers to be re-employed at the F and M Bellville factory in two groups on 14 November and 21 November. Management wanted time to try to find alternative employment for the scab workers who took the strikers' place.
• F and M to try to place the strikers in their original jobs as soon as possible.
• Strikers to start at the same wages as before the dispute, but wages to be brought into line with any raises received by other workers within one month (most had received 14,5 per cent increases).
• F and M to provide contract workers with a bus to travel to the Ciskei for two weeks over Christmas to enable them to visit their families.
• The strike period was not to be regarded as broken service -the strikers' seniority was not to be affected and they were to receive annual bonuses as if they had not been on strike.
• F and M to seek the renewal of the contract workers' documents within two months.
• No strikers would be fired for one year, except for theft or drunkenness.
• The union would not press for wage demands during the next year.
• The union agreed to inform the organizers of the boycott when the "dispute had been concluded" (i.e. when the contract workers' contracts were renewed, not just when the settlement was reached).

Management acted quickly on this last point because, as Mr Moni admitted:

The boycott could have had a serious effect if we had allowed it to linger on. There is no doubt that these boycotts can be effective. We made the mistake of ignoring organized labour. 1 would advise other firms to negotiate directly with unions as soon as possible.

In November 1980, one year after the strike ended, Fatti's and Moni's signed a new non-racial recognition agreement with the two Unions AFCWU and FCWU, covering both the factory in Bellville and another in Johannesburg as well (see Chapter Eight). These unions and their workers constitute a strong force in the struggle towards complete non-racial unity of the South African working class!

Because of this very commitment to the link between community and work place, Thozamile Botha was dismissed from his job at Ford Motor Company on 30 October 1979. This incident sparked off a historic series of strikes which continued into January 1980, and succeeded in highlighting a wide range of issues relating to conditions for workers at Ford Motor Company South Africa, a subsidiary of Ford Canada.

Prior to the Ford Strike in November 1979, Ford South Africa had itself commissioned a report to study conditions in its numerous plants and in particular the implementation of the Sullivan Principles. This report clearly revealed the basic fact that conditions were ripe for workers' action in response to justified grievances and intolerable working conditions. The Ford report documented:

• massive layoffs (300 workers) and reduced working hours (an enforced 28-hour week) which subjected 80 to 90 per cent of the black work force to incomes below the Poverty Datum Line;
• a precipitous decline in real income for the majority of black workers over the previous eight years;
• non-concurrence with the Sullivan Code insofar as the principle of equal and fair employment practices had not been put into practice; black workers were correct in their belief that they had in fact to be better qualified than white workers if they were to be promoted;
• well-founded suspicions by black workers that the two most hated arms of the state - the Security Police and the Eastern Cape Administration Board - actively conspired with the Ford management; key executives in the industrial relations directorate of Ford are listed as members of the Broederbond, the secret Afrikaner society responsible for directing apartheid policy;
• the need for a complete re-evaluation of Ford's -housing policy", e.g. Ford's creation of an elite housing estate (Fordsville) which would serve only 1.6 per cent of the black work force failed to address the most serious problem of sub-standard housing faced by all black workers in Port Elizabeth;
• persistent racism within Ford's operations continued to characterize daily conditions in all plants, despite the corporation's cosmetic changes designed to deceive foreign visitors and directors from North America.

[Whisson, M.G., M.C. Roux and CM. Manona, "The Sullivan Principles at Ford", SAIRR, 1979.]

The resultant strike at Ford only served to underline the total inadequacy of the so-called Codes of Conduct and the working class rejection of this attempt to contain the struggle within the limits defined by international capital.

For African workers in particular, whose living and working conditions are controlled by the same influx control regulations and state repressive institutions, the connection between exploitation at work and oppression at home (in the community) is a daily inter-related experience. The workers who took strike action against Ford in November 1979 clearly recognized this inextricable link and their militant stand had a tremendous effect on the local community struggles, arousing national and international interest in their plight.

In mid-October 1979, just prior to the strike and a month after the formation of the Soweto Civic Association (at a conference called by the Committee of Ten), a similar organization was formed in Port-Elizabeth - the Port Elizabeth Black Civic Organization (PEBCO). It aimed to fight for equal rights, to oppose apartheid legislation, and to seek participation in decision-making on all matters affecting South Africans. PEBCO immediately began to concentrate on major issues: opposition to community councils, the "homelands" system, and housing conditions. At the formation meeting Thozamile Botha was elected chairperson. What follows is an outline of events surrounding the important strike at Ford:

30 October 1979: Thozamile Botha, leader of PEBCO and a trainee draughtsman at Ford, was given an ultimatum by a Ford Motor Company official: either he give up his political activities or resign from his job. Botha refused to give up his work with PEBCO and resigned from Ford, sparking off the series of strikes lasting from November 1979 to January 1980.

31 October 1979: The entire African work force of nearly 700 workers at Ford's Struandale Cortina plant walked out in sympathy with Botha's resignation - responding as workers to an essentially political issue, the apparent victimization of their leader because of his involvement in community struggles.

5 November 1979: The strike ended although the situation remained tense. The workers had demanded and achieved the reinstatement of Botha through their refusal to work, a spontaneous act of solidarity. The two unions affiliated to FOSATU - UAW and NUMARWOSA - did not at first support the workers because the "walkout was not connected to a work related problem". After Botha's unconditional reinstatement, the UAW did negotiate full pay for the striking workers for the period of the strike - facilitated, however, by Ford's policy of negotiating only through the union.

13-14 November 1979: Ford's compliance with the demands antagonized white workers to the point of threatening strike action and revealing their racist attitudes in derogatory statements about black workers. While the threatened strike by white workers never materialized, black workers brought forward their many grievances - opposition to shorter hours of work being imposed for some while others worked overtime, demands for retraction of racist statements by Whites, the employment of unqualified white foremen, dissatisfaction with the bonus system, a call to the company to implement the policy of "equal pay for equal work", scrapping of Job Reservation, promotion of Blacks to senior positions and genuine integration of training facilities. This list of grievances made a mockery of Ford's reputation as number one employer in improving the -quality of life- of workers in South Africa.

A one-day strike took place at the engine assembly plant on 13 November 1979, and African workers at Struandale began a boycott of canteen facilities. Workers from neighbouring plants joined in the boycott while pressing for the resolution of their demands.

19 November 1979: Unrest spread as 600 workers at General Tire and Rubber Company in Port Elizabeth went on strike over the dismissal of two workers, and on 20 November included in their demands improved pay and working conditions, integrated facilities and union representation. Clearly the situation in Port Elizabeth was volatile. Ford was given an ultimatum by the workers to resolve their grievances by 21 November.

21 November 1979: The 700 workers at Ford Cortina assembled, waiting for Ford's response to their demands. They were then told to work or get out - all 700 walked out. Management called in riot police and later stated that refusal to work constituted resignation.

22 November 1979: At a mass meeting in New Brighton, chaired by Thozamile Botha, over 1,000 auto workers fired from various plants agreed to refuse to seek -re-employmentwhich would mean loss of accumulated benefits; they would return only on the condition that all would be reinstated. Ford workers demanded that bonuses earned over the past year be paid and a Ford workers committee, affiliated to PEBCO and under the chairmanship of Botha, was formed. The UAW were invited to the meeting but refused to attend. Workers unanimously approved a motion by Botha that they would not return to work until the 700 were reinstated. On that day also, 450 workers at Adamas Paper Mill refused to work in protest against low wages, management's refusal to recognize their union and lack of bonuses.

26 November 1979: Ford announced they would begin recruiting labour on this day and the events that followed this hard-line policy heightened the tensions between the UAW and PEBCO and saw the ascendance of the Ford workers committee in representing the workers throughout the two-month long strike.

[Summary compiled from Work in Progress, No. 11, Feb. 1980, and report on the Ford strike by DEFA Research, London.]

The major inadequacy of the role played by the UAW (FOSATU) seems to have been its mistaken attempt to separate trade union and political issues and therefore its refusal to represent the workers' interests. As well, workers soon perceived that UAW officials were ignorant of the problems on the Ford Cortina shop-floor. The proposals of the union organizers after their negotiations with management seemed to be out of touch with the workers' feelings and situation while being more in harmony with managerial interests. These factors led workers to the Ford workers committee, which successfully negotiated on their behalf and correctly identified the link between the work place and the community.

As Thozamile Botha has recounted:

[Interview, Workers Unity, No. 23, Dec. 1980, p. 1.]

Although affiliated to PEBCO, this committee soon operated as an independent representative of the dismissed Ford workers and over time was identified as such. It was this committee which gathered support from the South African Council of Churches and the Soweto Committee of Ten to raise funds to assist affected workers and their families, approached management directly, worked painstakingly with dismissed workers twice weekly during the strike, and finally successfully negotiated the settlement on behalf of these workers.

During the strike, workers made use of the fact that Ford is a foreign-based multinational vulnerable to international pressure. Botha and the FWC sent a letter to Ford headquarters in Detroit, USA, asking for a commission of inquiry to investigate workers' grievances. They also sent appeals to former US Ambassador to the United Nations (Andrew Young) and Rev. Jesse Jackson to get Ford workers reinstated and to the US United Auto Workers (UAW), though their response was similar to the IJAW-17OSATU. In the end it was the workers' militant stand and the solidarity demonstrated by church and community organizations which achieved the final victory.

On 8 January 1980, Ford labour relations management met and negotiated with the Ford workers committee. The US consul-general assisted in bringing the parties together and, although the UAW president and organizing secretary were present at the insistence of Ford management, they played no part in the negotiations. The company agreed to reinstate all former employees by the end of January 1980, at the same rate of pay. Although the company appeared to use delaying tactics, the last seventeen of the dismissed assembly plant workers were finally reinstated on 13 February, 1980.

Soon after the successful conclusion of the Ford strike, workers passed a vote of no-confidence in the UAW leadership. However, the union leaders Johnny Mke, George Manase and Fred Sauls refused to hand over the books, saying that it was unconstitutional. As a result, Ford workers stopped attending UAW meetings and continued organizing other component and motor workers in Port Elizabeth and Uitenhage to form a new union - the Motor Assemblies and Components Workers' Union (MACWU). This new union is a direct result both of the Ford strike, and of the UAW's attitude throughout the dispute of not wanting to involve "politics" and avoiding confrontation with Ford management.

During the latter months of 1980, MACWU was attracting great numbers of workers dissatisfied with the UAW's approach and the new union is proving to be a strong mobilizing force in the area. It now claims 97 per cent of the work force at the Ford Cortina plant and substantial representation at General Motors and Feltex, a components factory. The union held its official launching celebrations in February 1981.

MACWU joins the ranks of unaffiliated unions which are firm in their refusal to apply for registration under the new labour legislation; these unions are primarily based in the Cape province. MACWU has also declared its intention to concern itself with wider issues such as housing and living conditions and the whole question of Codes of Conduct. When Rev. Leon Sullivan visited South Africa in September 1980, Government Zini (chairman of the Ford workers committee responsible for initiating MACWU) said in a statement that if Mr Sullivan's ten principles were aimed at management and higher class society they were not needed, and slammed him for not even visiting General Motors (of which he is a director in the United States) to see what was taking place there.

At about the same time as MACWU's formation, Ford South Africa took a hitherto unprecedented step to introduce full-time shop stewards - a move heralded as a major breakthrough for trade unionism in South Africa. The agreement allows for each trade union recognized by the company to nominate shop stewards whose responsibilities are restricted to handling "legitimate- grievances or other "legitimate trade union representation functions". The passage of time, and the response of black workers, will tell whether this move enables these workers to be more effectively represented, or whether it is merely another public relations ploy on Ford's part - coming after a troubled year for the company's tarnished image in South African exploitation. MACWU is not at present formally recognized by Ford and it will be most important to see whether the company is prepared to recognize it, but of course the collective strength of the black workers will ultimately determine this issue.

Returning briefly to the Ford strike, one of its most impressive aspects was the solidarity expressed by the black community through PEBCO. For example, not a single person from New Brighton or Kwazekele townships or from Port Elizabeth went to seek work at Ford during the strike, despite the company's attempts to recruit them. This is precisely because the community was solidly organized and committed to the workers' struggle. On 6 January 1980, PEBCO resolved that if Ford did not reinstate all workers, it would organize a national boycott of Ford parts, a boycott of white-owned shops in town and liquor outlets in the townships (owned by the administration board). It was also agreed that if necessary there would be a day of solidarity when all workers in the Eastern Cape (Port Elizabeth area) would stay away from work. Students also announced that they were prepared to boycott schools for one week in solidarity with the Ford workers. Such a united front of support no doubt had its cumulative effect on management's willingness to enter into negotiations with the strikers.

Eastern Cape auto workers were once again in the news in June and July 1980. Over 3,000 Volkswagen workers came out on strike demanding R2 an hour, a 90 per cent increase from the present minimum wage of RI.15. They were soon joined by another 4,000 black workers when the strike spread to four more factories in the Uitenhage area.

At the end of the dispute striking workers accepted R1.48 an hour, mainly because of an agreement reached between the unions involved (NUMARWOSA and UAW - both FOSATU affiliates) and the employers. Together they agreed to sponsor a survey which would attempt to establish a "living wage" for the area. Throughout the decade black wages have been compared to Poverty Datum Lines which attempt to calculate the minimum needs for a black family to survive, whereas the workers and their unions argued that the PDL was a "yardstick against which to measure poverty, not a goal in setting wage levels".

Workers stressed that the PDLs are calculated on the minimum quantity of basic items which a family needs to -live from hand to mouth, rather than enjoy a reasonable quality of life". This new agreement was endorsed by the three major auto industry employers - Ford, Volkswagen and General Motors. A Ford industrial relations manager was forced to admit:"Wehad been working with a subsistence wage which isn't in line with enlightened employment practices." Not all industry spokesmen agreed, however, as Mr Peter Searle, managing director for Volkswagen, said: "Labour unrest and wage demands are now threatening to kill the goose that lays the golden egg."

At the beginning of May 1980, almost 100 meat workers at Cape Town's Table Bay Cold Storage went on strike for a democratically-elected non-racial workers' committee. Two important features of this strike came to the fore: firstly, the strikers were joined by workers throughout the meat industry in Cape Town; and secondly, the entire community stood behind the meat workers and their demands, as had been the case in the Fatti's and Moni's strike the year before.

The Western Province General Workers Union (WPGWU) called on management to recognize the democratic workers' committee of six instead of forcing the management-appointed liaison committee onto the workers. (A similar demand had been won by stevedores on the Cape Town docks, as discussed in Chapter Eight.) In the meat industry, the majority of black workers were WPGWU members and in most of the meat firms these workers were already represented by unregistered elected workers' committees, accepted by their respective managements. Almost all of these committees represented both African and coloured workers. The WPGWU called on management at Table Bay Cold Storage to recognize a similar committee in that plant.

The day after the walkout, 8 May, the workers reported to the factory but refused to work until their workers' committee was recognized. Management remained intransigent, insisting on the liaison committee and also that workers resign from the WPGWU. They also claimed that the strikers who were contract workers were "no longer employees" and that arrangements for bus tickets for some of the men to return to the Transkei Bantustan had been made.

On the evening of 9 May, representatives of workers from 15 Cape meat factories attended a meeting. It called on management to explain why they had refused to recognize the workers' committee and drafted a letter expressing full support for the demands being made by workers; these demands were being submitted not only to Table Bay management but 15 other meat factories as well. A mass meeting was held the next day in Langa township to discuss the strike.

On returning to work a huge contingent of police faced the workers. A company representative informed them that management would not meet them and that those who wished to could sign off and collect their pay. Refusing to sign themselves off, the workers left the factory.

Following this incident, about 700 black workers from 20 meat factories expressed their solidarity with the Table Bay workers and staged a one-day stoppage. When these workers reported back to work, at every factory they were confronted by locked gates and riot squad police with dogs in their vans nearby. With these actions, the meat bosses hoped to break the united strength of the workers and starve them into submission. Clearly the state and the employers were working hand in hand during this dispute. Fear of the growing strength not only of the WPGWU but also the FCWU and AFCWU in Cape Town and the number of workers' victories over the past year or so prompted the state to step in with such force.

In response to the lockout, over 700 workers decided they would all stay out until the following conditions were met:

1. unconditional reinstatement of all striking meat workers;
2. recognition of the elected non-racial committee at Table Bay Cold Storage Company;
3. recognition of the elected non-racial committee at National Meat Suppliers, where a similar recognition struggle was being waged by black workers.

A mass meeting the following day called for three specific forms of community support: (1) a boycott of red meat sold by butchers; (2) financial support for strikers and their families; (3) discouragement of scab labour.

Widespread community support was immediately forthcoming. The Food and Canning Workers Unions, the Western Cape Branch of the National Union of Commercial, Catering and Allied Workers, the Food, Beverage and Allied Workers Union, the Laundry and Allied Workers Union and the Soweto Traders Association issued statements in support of the workers' demands.

On 22 May, a boycott was launched, undertaken by both consumers and retailers in the black areas. Butchers in the African township stopped selling red meat in support of the strikers. They were soon followed by the butchers of the Cape Flats, coloured residential areas. According to the union, local student organizations put pressure on the 180 shopkeepers to boycott supplies. The sale of red meat fell by 60 per cent, indicating the extent of the involvement of the entire community in support of the workers' boycott call. This spread to other areas as well, with organizations such as the Black Housewives' League, the South African Council of Churches, the Azanian Peoples' Organization (AZAPO), the Committee of Ten and others agreeing to support and join the boycott.

We will not be happy to load the meat if it is sent to us by scab workers employed in place of the striking Table Bay workers.

Stevedores' works committee

With these words, the Cape Town stevedores threatened to refuse to load any Table Bay meat products if management replaced striking workers. Much of the meat produced is for export and this raised the question of whether the company would be able to market its products.

The WPGWU committed itself from the beginning of the dispute to pay the 765 strikers R15 a week; this necessitated a strike fund at R12,000 per week. The community response was overwhelming, with donations coming from all over the Cape Town community and throughout the country. It seems that the vast bulk of the money was donated by low-paid workers in small but periodic contributions. By 6 July, when the to-date cost to the WPGWU was estimated at R84,000, the remarkable sum of R61,000 had been received in donations. Various churches gave generously, and some archbishops even encouraged collections to be taken at Catholic and Anglican churches al over the peninsula.

Intense state repression and employer intransigence continued throughout the strike and finally crushed the workers' resistance. On 18 June, 42 striking meat workers were forced back to the Transkei Bantustan under the pass laws, after being found guilty of being in Cape Town "illegally". In the first month of the strike, the Security Police detained two union organizers, Dave Lewis and Di Cooper, and took Reverend Marawu in for questioning. The union offices were raided, four workers arrested and two charged under the pass law violations. WI`GWU pamphlets were banned, meetings were prohibited and broken up, and workers were continually harassed. Later in the strike two voluntary workers, Mike Morris and John Frankish, and two other union organizers, Zora Mehlomakhulu and Wilson Sidina, were detained. The WPGWU announced the following:

... it is clear that the meat bosses, with the support of the government, are not prepared to give in to the reasonable demands for the reinstatement of the workers and the recognition of democratic workers' committees... The bosses gave no reason at all to believe that they are prepared to satisfy even the smallest demands of the workers.

On 6 August, the 800 or so Cape Town meat workers decided to call off the boycott and to return to work. Their decision came after 12 weeks of united and courageous action by all the workers and their families. Despite the failure of the strike itself, the unity that was displayed stands as an example to workers and communities throughout South Africa and a lesson to the bosses and the state. The meat strike also represents one more in a growing list of workers' struggles fully supported by the black community.

Concurrent with the meat workers' strike, coloured and African students were boycotting classes and township residents were refusing to ride buses in protest against increased fares. In short, the oppressed people of the Western Cape were on the move and not even the full force of the state and its repressive apparatus would be able to stem the tide of resistance sweeping the country.

Amid this escalating resistance throughout 1980, the biggest strike to hit a single employer in South African labour history took place. It involved over 10,000 African municipal workers in Johannesburg, the largest and most industrialized city in South Africa. The strike, which lasted for 11 days, was brutally crushed by the South African state.

One of the most important features of the strike was the involvement of migrant workers. The migrant labour system under apartheid, besides restricting the freedom of mobility of the worker and his family, creates additional difficulties within the field of trade union organizing. Migrant workers oscillate betw~en wage labour and the "homelands" and thus do not represent a stable and permanent labour force. However, their involvement in this and other strikes in earlier years (e.g. African Mine Workers Strike, 1946, in Chapter Three) shows their advanced class consciousness and willingness to take militant action despite the possible consequences.

The following description of the municipal workers' strike was written by an African maintenance worker who was also on the executive of the Black Municipal Workers Union. Shortly after writing this he too was arrested.

[South African Council of Churches, documentation on the Johannesburg municipality workers strike, July 1980 (see Appendix).]

In somewhat spectacular headlines, the world learnt in the latter portion of 1979 that the South African government had extended trade union rights to Blacks for the first time in over twenty years. This was seen as a great step forward on the labour front and a breakthrough for the prime minister in his policy of conciliation.

In response to these announcements Blacks within South Africa organized themselves into meaningful unions with much enthusiasm and anticipation. We, the black employees of the city council for Johannesburg, were amongst these hopefuls. Our case was even more pressing because we had to outmanoeuvre the council in its attempts to form an incompany union for us.

The Black Municipal Workers Union, the brainchild of our secretary, Phillip Dlamini, was born on 23 June 1980 in the city council's own city hall. We had our inaugural meeting at the cost of R107.00 in spite of the fact that the "puppets" forming the in-company union had held a similar meeting at the same venue, free of charge.

From the time of our introducing the idea to the multitudes of our colleagues, the response had been fantastic. It had even got to the stage where we (the organizers) could give out application forms to any employee of the council with the sure knowledge that these forms would be returned to us, all properly filled-in and signed. So too our "coming of age" was a resounding success.

At our first executive meeting we discussed extensively the question of getting registration. This was because upon examining the laws relating to registration, we discovered that at most the "new deal" was a loud-sounding nothing. The fine-print set rules and regulations that were too cumbersome and self-defeating. The grievance-ironing machinery is long-drawn out, too hedged with official controls to enable black workers' grievances to be channelled through it. The long and short of it is that after registration a union becomes an impotent giant, and that without registration it becomes a nonexistent giant, in that management can lawfully ignore it.

After much deliberation amongst ourselves and consultation with people in the know, we decided that we would risk registration. In the meantime we were prepared to take advantage of the three months laid down by law that a newly formed union has to wait before applying for registration.

This time we resolved to dedicate to the putting in order of our house. Most of our members, being not very well educated, needed much guidance and counselling as to what a union stands for and why people had to pay money to be members of a union.

Then fate decided to throw a spanner in the works. A long-simmering dispute about wages and working conditions at the Orlando Power Station came to a boil. An unplanned strike was thrust upon us on Thursday, 24 July.

To make matters worse, the two bodies involved in the dispute both adopted uncompromising stands, as a result of which the workers, some 640 of them, were all fired. Some were paid off there and then. The council even announced in the papers that the migrant workers would be replaced the following day by new recruits from "Vendaland", a neighbouring homeland, or Bantustan.

The insensitive approach of the council to the matter brought most of our members' tempers to near-boiling point. The Black Municipal Workers Union, through its president Mr Joseph Mavi, warned the council that the bulk of our members could be expected to come out in sympathy if the situation was not fast resolved.

Our sincere warning went unheeded by the council; it, was in fact construed as a threat, which led the council to further harden its attitude.

True enough, the following day some 3,400 workers came out in support of their colleagues. These were the city engineer's department workers, from the Van-Beek depot in town, and all the labourers from the transport department. This brought the figure to roughly 4,000.

We reiterated our warning to the city council, pointing out that this was a matter of mutual concern. The council said that we were an unregistered union, and as such they were not going to recognize us. We could not do much at all, but watch helplessly whilst the situation deteriorated.

After a rather quiet Saturday, the refuse-workers at Selby depot, another depot of the cleansing branch, refused to take over their shifts on the evening of Sunday 27 July. The following morning, Monday 28 July, the numbers of the strikers swelled to an unprecedented 10,000, all in sympathy with their brothers.

The council begged, coaxed and threatened, but the workers refused to budge. At this time the council also found out that though the workers had initially come out on strike in solidarity with the fired workers, the thousands also had a similar and pressing grievance, namely money.

The workers declared unanimously that it was impossible to live on R29, R30, and R38 per week (variously) in inflation-beseiged Johannesburg. At the same time the council declared that the 10,000 were striking in fear of intimidation, and in response to mischievous agitators such as BMWU.

The bulk of our members, being (as 1 said earlier on) migrant workers, mostly illiterate and tribalistically inclined, would be easy to separate along tribal lines, or at least the council thought so. The workers were told that the representatives of the various homelands would be invited to address them in their various ethnic groups.

The workers surprised the council and us, by wanting nothing to do with homeland representatives, and also refusing to elect from amongst themselves four candidates from each compound to negotiate with management. They kept saying over and over again that the union was going to do all their talking for them. That was their last word on Wednesday, 30 July.

On the morning of Thursday, 31 July, events took a bizarre and unexpected turn. Large contingencies of South African Police (SAP) invaded the compounds at dawn, with the compound managers at their helm. The workers were brought out onto the courtyards of the various compounds with a show of arms and much pushing and shoving.

The managers then ordered that those who would go back on the job stand to one side. When no one moved, the workers were told that if they did not there and then decide, they were to be deported to their various homelands, and that their reference books would be endorsed out of Johannesburg.

At this, the men were demoralized. They started shuffling to the side indicated. The workers who stuck to their word and refused were hustled off to their rooms to pack their belongings, at the point of a gun. These men were later transported to an old disused mine-compound just outside Johannesburg, a place called City Deep.

To this disused compound were brought all the workers from the eight city council compounds, who had refused to go back on the job. An estimated 2,000 were by night-fall packed into this derelict place, under police guard.

Like criminals, these workers were detained there, in halls packed to capacity so that it was impossible for the captive men to even lie down. >From early morning the first day to about 2.30 a.m. the following morning, these men had nothing to eat or drink.

At about 2.30 a.m., the police, assisted by traffic police, brought food to the men in wheelbarrows. The bread was thrown into the packed halls, followed by bully beef, then cartons of milk. In the resultant scramble it was every man for himself, and many went without food.

1 will not go on with the description of the conditions of the captivity of our members, friends and brothers, in fear of sounding a liar with a vivid imagination. Let it suffice to say that the detention and the eventual deportation was cruel, depraved and utterly inhuman.

To go back to Thursday, 31 July. We, the executive committee of BMWU, felt like dying that day. We saw with our own eyes our members being forced at the point of a gun to go back to work, against their will.

At about 4.30 p.m. we felt we had accumulated enough evidence to put before a court of law. We instructed our attorneys to go to court, and to obtain as a matter of emergency a court interdict restraining and forbidding the city council of Johannesburg from moving our members out of Johannesburg against their will and also restraining the SAP from committing acts of violence against our members.

Instead, our president Mr Joseph Mavi was detained by Security Police whilst we were waiting on the benches outside the Supreme Court. Our attorneys were powerless, and so was the judge. Mr Mavi was later charged with sabotage with Mr Phillip Diamini, the secretary of BMWU.

Our case against the council and the SAP is still proceeding. We have in our possession sworn statements (the contents of which would move any compassionate and civilized human being to tears) from members who managed to come back from the homelands and also from members who were for some unknown reason not transported to the homelands.

In spite of all this we have not lost faith. We have shown our solidarity with the fired workers and that we will no longer accept the low pay and conditions of work. Perhaps we have improved the lot of those who have taken our place. The world must recognize that South Africa is a police state. Our demands were over money and our rights as workers and management brought in the police.

Striking municipal workers received support from various organizations, including the South African Council of Churches which attempted to facilitate negotiations between the workers and management. One of the main points brought out by the SACC and others reviewing the strike was that it demonstrated "the repressive nature of recent labour legislation and of the recommendations of the Wiehahn and Riekert Commissions... It is recommended that the way in which the strike has been suppressed be given the widest possible publicity in and outside South Africa and that this type of repression be interpreted within the context of the new labour legislation" (statement by the South African Council of Churches, July 1980).

The deportation of 1,265 migrant workers to the desolate Bantustans - this is what Riekert is all about! Similarly, the attempts to crush the Black Municipal Workers Union and speedily grant recognition to the bogus "in-company" union -the Union of Johannesburg Municipal Workers - have exposed the real intent of the Wiehahn Commission.

But the workers are fighting back. The BMWU continues to grow and hundreds of deported workers are returning to Johannesburg in search of work. A "survival fund" was established by the BMWU to assist those flooding back to the city, and once again the SACC and other organizations and individuals generously contributed: In an interview, one of the workers expressed a common view:

[Workers Unity, No. 22, Oct. 1980, p. 2.]

The year 1980 was certainly the Year of Mobilization of the Workers against Racism and Exploitation, as the South African Congress of Trade Unions (SACTU) had termed it. This was particularly true of the Eastern Cape area although as we have seen major strikes erupted all over the country. In the latter half of the year, East London was termed "labour's siege city" with the rapid growth of both membership and militancy of SAAWU and the AFCWU on one side, and largely belligerent employers and government on the other.

In July, a strike by workers at National Converter Industries began when nine SAAWU members were dismissed. Management merely took the hard line and brought in security police, and 128 workers were found guilty of "constituting an illegal gathering". One month later, in August, 250 workers at Raylite Batteries staged a sit-in protest at the bosses' refusal to recognize their union, SAAW1J. As a result, they were baton charged by the police and four workers, all members of the workers committee, were charged with intimidation. Two fulltime union organizers were also detained.

That same month, on 13 August, 400 workers at Collondale Cannery, East London - its entire black work force - stopped work. Five workers, including one leading member of the AFG WU, were retrenched by management because of "insufficient work at the plant". This was believed to be a subtle form of intimidation and so the workers took action. As a result, all 400 were fired, although management later said all except the original five could reapply for their jobs.

Due to extremely high rates of unemployment in this area (calculated to be around 30 per cent), the company succeeded in recruiting some scab labour. However, the union is holding on, just as was the case in the Fatti's and Moni's strike in Cape Town in 1979. AC17WU has been paying strike pay of R5 a week since 20 August 1980, costing R2,000 a week. Support has come from all over the country and from international trade union bodies, including the International Union of Food and Allied Workers who have condemned management's treatment of the strikers and encouraged affiliate unions to take supportive action. The cannery strikers have also launched a boycott of Collondale products and appealed to other canning workers in East London not to handle these products. Their struggle is continuing at the time of writing.

At the Turner Bros. plant, a subsidiary of UK-based Turner and Newall, Maxwell Mazwi, trade union committee chairman, was dismissed and other workers - all SAAWU members -went on strike. The managing director has said that he "will never recognize an unregistered union. 1 have a liaison committee with my boys (sic) - it is a case of them and myself when it comes to discussing things."

Other strikes at Consolidated Fine Spinners and Weavers, at Wilson-Rowntree and at East London Furniture have all met with the same response from the bosses: intransigence on the question of union recognition, discriminatory practices and intolerable working conditions.

In the last few months of 1980, members and organizers of the most progressive unions - SAAWU, AFCWU, FCWU and WPGWU - have suffered from intimidation and concerted state repression for their activities on behalf of the black working class. In a massive sweep in early November, 13 trade unionists in this area were detained by the Ciskei police. Despite all these obstacles, government officials in East London have been forced to admit that at least 50 per cent of the black workers in the area are members of AFCWU and SAAW1J. The latter's membership has risen from 5,000 to 20,000 in a matter of months and employers and the state are taking notice of the increased popularity of this militant union. One employer, Chloride (SA), has already agreed to recognize SAAWU and others will soon be forced to follow suit.

SAAWU officials insist that their rapid growth results from the union's commitment to "workers' democracy" and "mass participation". Thus, if the membership decide that strike action is worthwhile, it is taken, whether or not the demands are likely to be met (in contrast to CUSA and FOSATU). The mass participation is ensured by SAAWL['s policy of not calling for recognition from employers unless and until it is certain of the support of 60-80 per cent of the workers.

One reporter has stated that unions like SAAWU and MACWU (in Port Elizabeth), partly because they are not a product of western European or North American training and tactics, "may herald an important trend in a rapid rise of seemingly untrained, but effective mass unions". The success of both AFCWU and SAAWU has prompted the minister of manpower utilization to fly to East London recently to try to rally support for the regime's oppressive new labour measures. In fact he appealed to the employers to "hold out" against SAAWU until March 1981, when more restrictive legislation will be introduced. This legislation promises greater control olver unregistered unions and perhaps an attempt to smash totally these remaining and popular independent black trade unions.

With every fresh piece of legislation added to the list, new forms of resistance have emerged and will continue to emerge as the struggle intensifies. We must expect an even greater display of working class militancy in the decade of the 1980s and an increase in the number of strikes which concentrate on the link between the work place and the community. It is only in this way that the workers' struggle against class exploitation can most effectively be broadened to become an attack on the entire system of racial capitalism. South Africa's black working class is indeed on the march, and the masses will not stop short until victory is complete!

Faced with the incredible wave of worker resistance in the past two years, the South African state has in turn intensified its determination to eliminate black working class leadership. By making full use of the security legislation at its disposal, the regime has stepped in to detain scores of key workers' leaders in the various strikes discussed above. What follows are a few examples of this repression.

• After the Ford strike in Port Elizabeth, Thozamile Botha, Phalo Tshume, Mono Badela and Dan Qeqe were held in detention for seven weeks without trial under Section Six of the Terrorism Act. After their release all four were banned. Botha, who had spent 48 days in solitary confinement, fled South Africa in May 1980, and declared himself a member of the African National Congress and the South African Congress of Trade Unions.
• As a result of the strike by textile workers at the Frametex factory, Durban, May 1980, three National Union of Textile Workers (NUTW) members were arrested and charged with inciting others to strike. On 11 July, while awaiting trial, Samson Cele was shot dead by a masked gunman. The others were acquitted on 16 July, after the state's evidence was rejected as unreliable. 298 workers were later charged with participating in an illegal strike.
• The state unleashed its repressive machinery during the meat workers' strike (May-August 1980). Many workers were arrested on pass offence charges and banished to the Transkei and five WPGWU organizers - David Lewis, Diana Cooper, John Frankish, Mike Morris and Wilson Sidina - were held in detention until the 12-week long strike was broken in August.
• After the historic strike by Johannesburg's 10,000 municipal workers led by BMWU (July 1980), severe repression was directed against three of the leaders. Joseph Mavi (president), Phillip Dlamini (general secretary) and Gatsby Mazwi were at first charged with sabotage (under the General Law Amendment Act of 1962) but later the state withdrew those charges. Instead, these BMWU officials will be charged under the Riotous Assemblies Act and their trial begins in February 1981.
• In the wake of militant activity by East London trade unionists, the state has intensified its repression against leaders of SAAWU and AFCWU. Bonisile Norushe, East London secretary of A17CWU, has been held in detention since 15 June 1980, after his role in the Collondale Cannery strike. Thozamile Gqweta, SAAWU national organizer, and Sisa Njikalana, branch secretary, were taken into detention by the Ciskeian security police in early November 1980. In a further attempt to stamp out black worker militancy in East London and vicinity, within the next few days 13 other trade unionists were detained without charge for six weeks - the biggest crackdown on trade unionists since 1976.
• As the decade of the 1970s came to a close, black journalists came out on strike for a better deal for all media workers. Mr Zwelakhe Sisulu, son of ANC leader Walter Sisulu, imprisoned on Robben Island, was put under house arrest under a banning order for his leadership role in the strike. Sisulu was president of MWASA (Media Workers Association of South Africa), an unaffiliated black trade union attempting to unite black media workers. Two other leaders, Marimathu Subramoney and Mathatha Tsedu, were also banned. Not only did the state take action against the strike leaders but also banned the papers they were working for - the Post and the Sunday Post. These papers refused to succumb to the regime's consistent attempts to muzzle the press and "prevent radical and revolutionary elements getting the headlines" and instead championed the cause of the people's resistance.
• On 13 August 1980, Oscar Mpetha, a founder member of SACTU (1955), was arrested and has been detained for the past six months under the Terrorism Act. Mpetha was jailed shortly after releasing a statement to the press condemning the alleged police provocation of violence in Nyanga and Crossroads -two squatter villages threatened with demolition in recent years - where he has been active in organizing the communities. Mpetha is 71 years old and suffers from diabetes. He has been a trade union leader since the late 1940s, and his life-history is testimony to the principles of non-racial and political trade unionism advanced by SACTU for 25 years. In 1979, he played a leading role in the Fatti's and Moni's strike as national organizer of AFCWU. On 4 December 1980, Mpetha and 17 youths were charged on two accounts of murder under the Criminal Act and one count under the Terrorism Act. They have been remanded in custody until 3 March 1981. An international campaign has been launched to protest against his detention, demanding the release of Mpetha and all other arrested and restricted trade unionists.

This, then, is how the racist apartheid regime deals with black trade unionists who fight for basic rights for all South African workers. While trying to convince the international community that there is a "new era" in the labour history of South Africa, the racists continue to mount one vicious attack after another on the working people and their leaders.

South Africa's black workers have demonstrated, however, that they will never be silenced and are continually ready to sacrifice everything for their eventual emancipation from oppression and exploitation. These sentiments are reflected in the words of SAAWU leader, Thozamile Gqweta:

Workers accepted that workers' liberty was never achieved without tears and pain. It is painful like the birth of a child. But out of these tears will emerge a new and free labour situation in South Africa, a healthy labour community that will be free from all racial prejudice based on the colour of a workers' skin.

[WorkerS Unity, No. 22, Oct. 1980, p. 6.]

Finally, brutal repression against SACTU militants also continues. The most recent example of this occurred on 29 January 1981, when the South African military made one of its racist commando attacks on the residences of the ANC and SACTU in Maputo, Mozambique. Among the 12 South African patriots killed was trade unionist William Khanyile, a SACTU veteran since 1958. In 1963, Khanyile was arrested and sentenced to eight years on Robben Island. By the mid-1970s, he was working deep within SACTUs underground machinery in the Durban area. In May 1976, he stood trial with nine others charged under the Terrorism Act and the Suppression of Communism Act and was the only person acquitted (see Chapter Eight). Khanyile left South Africa in December 1977 to work with SACTU in exile. The murderous attack carried out by the racist apartheid forces was the first time a black trade unionist has been killed by the regime outside the boundaries of the apartheid state. It is with deep regret that we learned of Williarn Khanyile's death as this manuscript was being completed.

10. International Connections.. Complicity or Solidarity?

The international campaign against apartheid has so far been one of words rather than action, and where some sort of action has been taken against South Africa, it has been little more than a "tap on the wrist"

[Cape Times, 17 October 1980. Article on report by the Business International Corporation of New York.]

While simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief and celebrating the fact that their capital investments are relatively safe from the pressures of international anti-apartheid campaigns, this group of American capitalists nevertheless remains uncertain as to the future of South Africa from a "political viewpoint". The fact is that black working class militancy has forced them to recognize the independent and democratically controlled trade unions which are increasingly combining economic and political demands. The report (referred to in the quote above) goes on to argue that the failure of companies to respond in a "constructive manner" (sic) to the challenges and demands of black trade unions will have an important impact on whether or not foreign pressures for disinvestment will intensify. They conclude in their business wisdom that South Africa will remain in a state of more or less "stable violent equilibrium" for the next ten years, thus comforting themselves and their class that super-profits will be secure for the foreseeable future.

It is an extreme indictment of the impotence of international anti-apartheid action to realize that what this group of capitalists have described as a "tap on the wrist" is exactly that! While this group and their partners in exploitation throughout the capitalist world come down firmly on the side of complicity with the apartheid system, we must more seriously than ever before address the question of what constitutes solidarity with the oppressed majority.

It is not our intention, given the focus of this book, to engage in an exhaustive study of past international words and actions against the apartheid regime. Suffice it to say that resolutions come easier than revolutions against apartheid as the thousands of pages of reports from anti-apartheid conferences would readily attest. However, it is important during this very crucial period in the South African struggle to raise certain questions about the type of solidarity which has been and continues to be the focus of our work in support of the black working class. At the outset it is worthwhile mentioning that whatever type of international action is practised or envisaged, it will be the black working class inside South Africa that determines whether that action is a form of solidarity or a form of complicity. This proposition is as true for actions initiated by labour as it is for those undertaken by capital or governments.

In examining the interaction of foreign capital and black labour in South Africa, it will be important to counter the various myths that have been forwarded by foreign capital in trying to justify its continued and expanded exploitation of cheap labour under apartheid. The most common myth, and one which has numerous variations, says that capitalism or "free enterprise- (as it is so incorrectly described) will eventually erode apartheid. An urgent update on this old theme says that Codes of Conduct reflect international capitalism's sincere desire to protect (si6) black workers from excessive exploitation. It seems only too obvious that black workers are not now, nor have they ever before, been calling for slightly less exploitation - they are, rather, demanding an end to exploitation altogether. As we discuss more thoroughly in sections that follow, it should be clear to all concerned that capitalism and apartheid have grown up together in South Africa and the liberation process entails the elimination of both.

In the case of international trade union solidarity, it is a much more difficult task to find answers to the following questions: What kind of solidarity is/has been most effective? At what level(s) of the international trade union movement do the majority of decisions get made? What are the ultimate aims of these solidarity actions? Does the type of solidarity depend on how each contributing body perceives the struggle unfolding and what political and economic interests they support?

The most important practical question to ask is what qualitative changes, if any, have resulted from international labour solidarity in the past. The answer to this question will act as a springboard from which to move in shaping collective strategies for action in the future. Finally, the most crucial point to keep in mind is that qualitative change in South Africa will come about largely as a result of continued courageous actions taken by black workers themselves; the role of the international working class community is therefore to follow that lead with principled and strategic actions that reinforce and protect each victory along the way.

Recent surveys have shown that (Blacks) do not like capitalism, but the controls over every aspects of their lives prevent them from knowing what capitalism is...

Those restrictions which prevent Blacks from participating equally with Whites in the market must go. You cannot convince an employee that he is benefitting from the free enterprise system if he receives a wage that does not even provide for a minimum of a decent standard of living. (emphasis added)

[Anglo-American executive, 27 October 1980.]

Our Anglo-American corporate executive has provided us with a perfect example of an ideological statement, i.e. one which (if accepted) totally conceals the nature of exploitation under capitalism and leads us into false solutions. Our executive's "controls over every aspect of their lives" are precisely the hallmarks of South African capitalism and the means by which capital accumulation has developed throughout this century. And then, following from one point of illogic to another, we are led to believe that black workers are really about to benefit "from the free enterprise system" at just the moment when our executive tells us that workers' wages are incapable of maintaining subsistence. How else does the worker experience capitalism or "free enterprise" if not through the wage relationship, the measure of exploitation in comparison with the value of the commodities produced by that worker? Such a statement is, upon examination, an excellent point of departure for our understanding of why capitalism cannot erode apartheid. The most illiterate black worker would be able to expose the hypocrisy of this executive from one of South Africa's so-called "enlightened" employers; such statements are an insult to the intelligence of every black person under apartheid and an intentional diversion to the international community.

A simple examination of the facts shows that capitalism and apartheid have developed in lock-step fashion in South African history. Their continued interdependence is necessary if both white minority rule and the production of profits are to exist. International capital plays the crucial role in the perpetuation of this system of modern-day slavery and any suggestion that its presence in South Africa constitutes a "liberalizing" influence is false in so many respects. American corporations in particular have argued that their role in strengthening South Africa's national economy will ultimately benefit the country as a whole. The massive flows of capital investment, so the myth goes, will "trickle down" to those who need it most; more jobs will be created; wages will "inevitably" rise and on the tail of economic growth will come social and political transformation. This is the bare outline of the argument put forward by those who have lived off the sweated labour of black people for decades.

South African economic growth has been dependent upon the injection of foreign capital since the end of World War 11. Direct foreign investment has contributed to the country's tremendous post-war economic growth. The transfer of foreign technology and expertise - largely American - has been instrumental in this pattern. In turn, the apartheid system of labour exploitation has ensured consistently high rates of profit (see Chapter Five) at the direct expense of the black working class. Far from eroding apartheid, foreign capital investment seeking super-profits has been the major prop of racial capitalism in South Africa. Because all western capitalist corporations know this to be true, they must desperately search for new variations on an old myth to justify to citizens in their own country their continued exploitation of cheap, black labour in South Africa.

In the meantime, the position of the black workers worsens with each passing year. The wage gap between white and black workers has steadily widened and increasingly so in the 1970s. During the period of greatest economic growth, the ratio of white to black per capita income increased rather than diminished. While the white to black per capita income ratio was 16 to 1 in 1966, it reached 17 to 1 in 1975. Tables 1 and 2 illustrate these trends for the mining and manufacturing sectors.

For the oppressed masses, racial capitalism has brought with it increased suffering and deteriorating living conditions. Foreign and domestic capital alike have been directly benefitting from this increased misery. The -trickle down" theory was merely an ideological smokescreen designed to pacify the critics while another phase of accumulation proceeded without interruption. When one considers not only the wider wage gap between white and black worker, but also the rapidly rising unemployment levels for Blacks, one begins to appreciate the magnitude of the big lie advanced by international capitalism.

As previous chapters have documented, Blacks have not accepted this onslaught on their lives. Workers' struggles and general political resistance have brought a corresponding intensification of state repression. Thousands of Blacks have been imprisoned under an increasing number of security laws (see Chapter Two), statutes so draconian and fascist-like that virtually any expression of protest may be seen to "endanger the maintenance of law and order". The victims of these laws face long prison sentences, in many cases death, and in most instances torture. Between 1950 and 1978, over 1,300 people were banned by the minister of justice, and as we have already seen trade unionists have been frequent targets of the state apparatus. Where, we ask, are the social and political rights that were supposed to accompany this economic growth?

In sum, capitalism has not and cannot erode apartheid. Anything more than a superficial reading of Wiehahn and Riekert will show just how important foreign capital investment is to the maintenance of white minority rule in South Africa -and, of course, that means the maintenance of capitalist exploitation as well. This is why western corporations, banks and governments need to be assured that some minimal stability exists on the political front so that their investments and interests will be secure. The growing documentation of western military collaboration with the apartheid regime is further proof that capitalism is ready and willing to arm South Africa with the most sophisticated technology to keep its black people down.

But the critics of apartheid will not be silent. Progressive organizations and individuals continue to demand the total isolation of South Africa, and it is in this context that corporations have had to scramble to find another diversion, another breathing spell that will lead to a lessening of the attack on their right to exploit black labour power in South Africa. This diversion has a new terminology - it is known as a "Code of Conduct".

Since the early 1970s, growing attention has been focussed on the formulation of international codes of behaviour for multinational corporations as these corporate giants increasingly dominate all aspects of social life in the capitalist world and its third world periphery. In South Africa, the militant struggles wages by the oppressed majority throughout the last decade alerted the boardrooms of these corporations and western governments to the fact that some new initiative had to be undertaken to protect their massive investments in apartheid. What emerged were Codes of Conduct, charters of "do's" and "don'ts" by which monopoly capital should operate in order to secure the long-term prize of nothing less than the maintenance of the capitalist system. The short-term concession was the "liberalization" of some of the more blatant and visible forms of racial discrimination associated with apartheid. Elizabeth Schmidt has summed up the intent of the Sullivan Code as follows:

(It) has smoothed the path of American companies who want to profit from the cheap labour economy without interference from dissatisfied black workers or a critical American public.

[Quoted in a review of her Decoding Corporate Camouflage, Institute of Policy Studies, 1980, which appeared in the Sunday Post, 31 August 1980.]

In part a response to pressures on foreign investors to withdraw from South Africa, the Codes also represent an awareness on the part of all corporations involved in South Africa that there is a severe shortage of skilled labour in the economy. Hence, with the apartheid state's careful management of the process, international capital is willing to call for the "African advancement" that they have been co-partners in preventing for so many decades. The Codes also see the importance of encouraging some minimal form of representation of black employees in the work place. The numerous Codes adopted in 1977 (a few months after the Soweto massacre) are the EEC Code, the Sullivan Principles, the Urban Foundation Code and the Canadian Code; they all essentially restrict their parameters to the removal of racial discrimination against black workers.

There have been many excellent criticisms, firstly of their limitations as guidelines for the operations of multinational corporations, and secondly, of their effectiveness even if put into practice. The most basic criticism is simply that they were devised completely independently of consultation with the black working class of South Africa and, more particularly, the new independent black trade unions that have emerged in the 1970s. This in itself should be sufficient to show that the interests of capital are fundamentally antagonistic to those of black labour. The international capitalist class is fully aware of the fact that these Codes openly deny the demands made for over two decades by the black workers of South Africa.

Even the corporate participants in the implementation of the Sullivan Codes, for example, cannot seem to agree. In May 1979, one Ford Motor Company (South Africa) official admitted that many signatories to the Code "pay only lip service to the employment code", while another explained: "You have to remember who signed the principles. We didn't sign the principles, the home office did."

["The Sullivan Principles: an American Code for Business as Usual in South Affica." Testimony before the UN Special Committee Against Apartheid, 24 March 1980, p. 7.]

Black workers at Ford also condemn the Sullivan Codes. After leading black workers in the strike against Ford in 197980 (see Chapter Nine), Thozamile Botha fled the country, and when asked his opinion of the Codes of Conduct, responded:

[Workers Unity, No. 23, Dec. 1980, p. 2.]

Even if the various principles were adhered to vigorously, black workers have consistently demonstrated that apartheid is not just a matter of racial discrimination. In general, the Codes concentrate on removing the most obvious barriers of segregation in all facilities at work, encouraging equal and fair employment practices for all workers, training programmes for Blacks and promotion of Blacks to management and supervisory positions. Although they stress the need to improve the quality of workers' lives outside the work environment, nowhere in any of the Codes is the right to a stable family life near the workers' place of work worthy of emphasis. In short, the entire migrant labour system which is the basis of labour exploitation under apartheid is accepted by multinational capital.

The recognition of African trade unions is given relatively low priority. Similarly, the economic basis upon which apartheid rests, the cheap labour system, is ignored. And yet, these are the very issues which have been at the heart of the major factory- and industry-wide struggles in the past few years. These Codes intentionally confuse the real issues by suggesting that apartheid can be reformed without having to overthrow it completely.

Leaving aside these criticisms of the Codes themselves, it is extremely illuminating to find that in general they have not been applied even to the limited extent that is laid down. Reports have come out, for example, on the starvation wages paid by British companies in South Africa. In June 1980 it was revealed that at least 26 British companies were paying black workers wages which were well below the poverty line. A key recommendation in the EEC Code is that these companies should pay black workers in their factories at least 50 per cent above the Poverty Datum Line.

Similarly, an earlier study carried out by a group of researchers who examined 18 West German corporations found that not one of them was cooperating with the EEC Code. The report painted a vivid picture of harassment of the black trade union movement and management complicity with the secret police to get rid of "trouble-makers". A further tactic seemed to be to encourage the unemployed to hang about the factory gates; at the first sign of trouble, the bosses simply brought in some of them to replace the unionists.

Elizabeth Schmidt's recent indictment of the Sullivan Principles, entitled Decoding Corporate Camouflage: US Business Support for Apartheid, clearly exposes the sham of the proposed "reforms". Her study reveals that, in effect, the system of racial discrimination has been perpetuated. "Equal pay for equal work", for example, was merely an empty slogan. According to the report-back of the corporations signatory to the Sullivan Principles, 76 per cent of the workers in the lowest job category are black, and 2 per cent are white; 94 per cent of the workers employed in the top job category are white, one per cent is black.

By October 1979, i.e. more than two and a half years after the introduction of the Principles, approximately one half of the corporations that reported back had no Blacks in management or supervisory positions. While the "amplified guidelines" to the Code urge companies to "generally acknowledge" the right of black workers to be represented by trade unions, as late as October 1979 84 per cent of the respondents had not negotiated with any union. Regarding assistance with housing and education, three-quarters of the scholarships distributed by the signatories to the Sullivan Principles had gone to white children!

Schmidt also demonstrated the extent to which many of the signatory companies appeared to be directly propping up the state apparatus. For example, Motorola sold equipment to the South African Police, and General Motors had devised a contingency plan to be implemented "in the event of civil unrest". Under this plan, the corporation agreed to cooperate fully with the South African authorities and to encourage its white employees to join a local civil defence unit in the case of an emergency. To quote an inter-office memo within the General Motors Corporation: "... in the event that a national emergency is declared, there is little doubt that control of GM's South African facilities... would be taken over by an arm of the ministry of defence..."

The South African Defence Force, as part of the state's Total Strategy, has called on all large foreign corporations to organize similar corporate militias. As early as 1970, the National Supplies Procurement Act, No. 89, gave the minister of defence the power -when necessary for the security of South Africa, I to order

With these state powers at the disposal of the apartheid rulers, can anyone take seriously the pious pronouncements from multinational corporations that they are about to "improve the quality of life" for the black majority through Codes of Conduct? Schmidt's conclusion is that if the Sullivan Principles in particular continue to ignore the fundamental economic and political issues in South Africa, "employment reforms will remain a sham, and the Principles a flimsy camouflage to disguise corporate collaboration with the apartheid regime".

Reverend Sullivan visited South Africa in September 1980, and while there strongly urged US corporations to implement the Codes. Otherwise, he said, they would be "exposed and punished". However, Sullivan also received strong criticism from black South Africans who recognized the sham of such Codes. One black educator recently resigned from his role in monitoring the Sullivan Codes, stressing that "... among Blacks, the (Sullivan) Principles are barely known to exist because their role is negligible". Even if these Codes became mandatory (as some are now proposing) instead of voluntary, the fact remains that the Codes themselves are completely inadequate and only serve to obscure the naked exploitation of black workers from which all foreign companies profit.

The Codes of Conduct, like the Wiehahn and Riekert Commissions, are a joint effort by capitalism generally to "modernize" apartheid and to create new structures and ideologies necessary to the maintenance of white domination. As Schmidt points out, more than $720 million of new capital has flowed into apartheid society since May 1979, while Prime Minister Botha has reassured every white South African that "one man, one vote is out in this country. That is, never."

Far too much attention is given to these diversions from the real struggles that will determine the course of a future South Africa. The black workers' collective voice may not be able to penetrate the corporate media of the western world, but let it be stated once again that black workers have, since 1960, called for international boycotts and disinvestment campaigns that if carried out would isolate the apartheid regime. The late Albert Luthuli, president general of the African National Congress, answered those who suggest that economic sanctions will harm the African people:

[Quoted in "Memorandum to the British Workers and Their Trades Union Congress from the South African Congress of Trade Unions", n.d.]

Luthuli's appeal was reinforced in the early 1960s when SACTU, representing the black workers and non-racial trade unionism, answered the same question in the following manner:

Since the early 1960s, both the ANC and SACTU have repeatedly called for the total boycott and isolation of the South African regime. Over the past two decades, suffering has increased as a direct result of the actions of capitalist corporations, banks and governments who continue to claim that they know what is best for the black people of South Africa. Black workers and citizens of apartheid have demonstrated their willingness to sacrifice and die if necessary for their eventual liberation. But, at the same time, they will not be satisfied with ' Codes of Conduct" that perpetuate misconduct or 'liberalizations" that hide increased repression.

[Quoted in Workers Struggle for Freedom, SACTU, 1977, p. 20]

The international working class has a specific and critical role to play in the fight against the apartheid regime in South Africa. As the power of multinational corporations increases and the internationalization of capital becomes a threat to all humanity, workers throughout the world are, ironically, brought together as never before. Constantly in search of the accumulation of quantity, the multinationals choose to invest in countries where wages are the lowest, the workers most poorly organized and lacking in trade union rights, and where autocratic governments will protect the investments against popular unrest.

These corporations have essentially managed to get workers to bid against each other as to how cheaply labour power will be sold. If workers in the developed capitalist world are willing to settle for wage freezes and other policies that protect profits, they may be allowed to keep their jobs at least in the short-run. If, however, they oppose these corporate schemes, and in some cases even if they accept, the company will steal away in the middle of the night and set up production in a more "stable" third world environment.

It is of great importance that workers and their trade unions do not allow the corporations to create divisions and cleavages between them, both within and between different countries. The "runaway shop" can easily lead to a form of national chauvinism with the workers movement as reflected by demands for keeping jobs here and not there. This is an understandable reaction, but it also must be recognized as precisely that - a reaction, and one that precludes the alternative of a common international working class solidarity and unity against a common class enemy. The issue is surely not whether monopoly capital should exploit workers here or there, but whether they should be allowed to exploit workers anywhere.

These concerns bear directly upon how the international trade union movement responds to the South African black workers' appeal for solidarity in forcing western capital to disengage entirely from the apartheid economy. Total isolation of the regime has long been recognized as the only effective way to assist the struggling people in achieving their liberation from racial capitalism. The disinvestment strategy is central to this liberatioln process, and the international trade union movement's commitment to ensure that it happens is the real test of the rhetoric of solidarity. There should be no illusions that the disinvestment strategy will be an easy victory against the power of monopoly capital, but it does offer the western trade union movement the challenge of uniting to fight that enemy that all workers identify as a common source of their problems - the multinational corporation. Short of this unity, the only alternative is a divided trade union movement that gets weaker within and between capitalist countries.

Before pursuing these thoughts further, it is helpful to outline three basic areas where the international trade union movement in the capitalist world has had difficulty in defining the true meaning of solidarity.

Firstly, the western trade union movement has not identified the multinational corporation as the principal target of attack in developing solidarity with the black workers of South Africa. Far too often the corporate community's rhetoric about "liberalization" through investment has been accepted, in whole or in part, by international trade union federations. The ultimate consequence for the latter is an identification with the interests of these employers and western governments in some form of tripartism rather than a clear and uncompromised solidarity with the black workers of South Africa.

The International Confederation of Free Trade Unions (ICFTU), in an attempt to show how it differed from the World Federation of Trade Unions (WFTU) in many ways, exposed its own weakness on this question of the multinationals:

But... what about objectives such as the fight against the multi-national menace ... ? Here too, the seeming identity of views disappears on closer scrutiny, because we look at these matters as trade unionists whereas the WFTU considers them from the political point of view. We do not fight the multinationals as such: we accept them as a fact of life, but aim at preventing their abuses by organizing a countervailing trade union power and by the adoption of national and international legislation for their control.

[Quoted in 'Tabour's Views on International Affairs", Canadian Labour Congress, Oct.-Nov. 1976.]

Thus far, these multinationals have not been effectively controlled either by legislation or by trade union "countervailing power". They have, however, been brought to a standstill by militant action on the part of black workers and their unions (e.g. the Ford strike discussed in Chapter Nine). The "abuses" referred to in the ICFTU statement will continue as long as racial capitalism exists in South Africa as evidenced by the history of the past three centuries.

Disinvestment, as pointed out above, remains a long-term strategy which must be called for and worked for if one accepts the legitimacy of the liberation struggle being waged. In the interim, however, there is no contradiction in pressuring these same multinationals to recognize the popular trade unions that represent workers in their plants in South Africa. Although the ICFTU and other international trade union bodies have generally endorsed the call for disinvestment, there must be a far more concerted effort to make these strategies a living reality.

Secondly, an unfortunate trend has developed within the international trade union movement, and this is the neglect to educate and mobilize rank-and-file workers around the question of solidarity with the oppressed masses of South Africa. Despite countless resolutions taken at national and international trade union conferences on behalf of the workers of South Africa, the fact remains that the majority of rank-and-file workers in the capitalist world remain ignorant about the meaning of apartheid. How many workers have been exposed to action-oriented educational programmes on workers' struggles in South Africa? How many workers know anything about the destination of funds collected by their federations and international bodies for the purpose of supporting black workers and their trade unions in South Africa? Further, do rank-and-file workers have an input into the decision-making process regarding which group(s) receive their money? On all these points, the missing element is education and action within the trade union movement at all levels. Only when the objective and subjective links between workers in different parts of the world have been made clear and thoroughly discussed can there be any meaningful solidarity of a lasting nature.

Thirdly, the lack of coordination of international solidarity actions between different international bodies remains a glaring weakness in the world labour movement. By reviewing the various types of solidarity expressed so far, this will become readily apparent.

The early 1970s witnessed an important expression of unity amongst the various sections of the international trade union movement. During 1973, workers in every part of the world were represented at the International Trade Union Conference Against Apartheid, a significant development in the consolidation of opposition to the regime. The conference was convened by the World Federation of Trade Unions (WFTU), the International Confederation of Free Trade Unions (ICFTU), the World Confederation of Labour (WCL), the Organization of African Unity (OAU), the United Nations and the Governing Body of the International Labour Organization (ILO). A part of the resolution passed at this conference recommended that:

• Trade unions must take initiatives to stop governmental and private investment in South Africa and also to stop emigration to South Africa.
• Unions must organize campaigns for the immediate and unconditional release of political and trade unionist prisoners, and for cessation of police brutality.
• Unions must call for the abolition of the contract-labour system, which is nothing more than modern slavery.
• Unions must give material and moral assistance to the African workers in South Africa through their own authentic trade union and political organizations.
• Unions must refuse to handle goods to or from South Africa and/or Namibia and boycott South African ships and aircraft.
• Unions must keep their members and public opinion rigularly informed of the situation in South Africa through all information media.
• At the national and international level, trade unions must form committees against apartheid, racist and colonial regimes - their task will be to develop concrete actions by trade union organizations.

Significant actions have been carried out along these lines throughout the 1970s by various trade unions or national bodies. However, they have largely been in response to crises occurring within South Africa itself rather than well-planned activities that are part of an overall strategy of resistance to the apartheid regime and support for the black workers' unfolding struggle.

Following the Soweto uprisings in 1976, various actions were carried out against the brutality of the regime. The Australian Council of Trade Unions (ACTU) as well as the New Zealand Federation of Labour implemented a month-long boycott of South Africa in July 1976. In Australia, also, the Victorian Branch of the Waterside Workers' Federation placed a ban on the movement of cargo to and from South Africa through the port of Melbourne. Later in 1976, linesmen and tug crews at Sydney harbour decided to withhold their services from the ship "Safocean Auckland" until such time as the following questions were answered by the South African government:

• What was the official cause of the death of Lawrence Ndzanga (SACTU) who died at the hands of the notorious security police in the cells at John Vorster Square (Johannesburg) in 1976?
• Why was his wife, Rita Ndzanga (SACTU), refused permission to attend her husband's funeral?
• What is she guilty of under the fascist law known as the Terrorism Act?
• What was the cause of death of Steve Biko who also died whilst being held in detention cells?

[Luckhardt and Wall, op. cit., p. 486.]

They received unsatisfactory answers from the South African diplomats and eventually allowed the ship to sail "on condition that the next port would be Melbourne where another ban was placed on her".

In Italy, a 24-hour boycott of South African Airways was implemented at Rome international Airport on 2 September 1976.Then on 25 October, Italian telephone and postal workers engaged in a day-long boycott, refusing to handle calls and telegrams to and from South Africa.

To protest the large-scale bannings of South African trade unionists in November 1976, the ICFTU called on all its affiliates to take part in a week of protest action in January 1977. It stated that such action should include: "large scale rallies; press, radio and television interviews with African personalities from South Africa; distribution of material; industrial action as a protest against the apartheid regime, including grounding of South African aircraft and boycotting of ships, as well as a boycott on the loading and unloading of goods destined for or coming from South Africa". This Week of Action was also supported by the WFTU and WCL. In December, the Organization of African Trade Union Unity (OATUU) and SACTU issued a joint statement welcoming this step, and appealing for concrete action and support.

Workers throughout the world responded to this call in various ways. Dock workers in Belgium, the Netherlands, Australia and Canada, along with airport workers in Italy and post office workers in France, took industrial action. In New Zealand, the Watersiders' Federation announced that the temporary shipping ban had been 100 per cent effective and the union was considering a permanent ban. Boycotts, rallies and information meetings served to expose further the crimes committed against the workers and people of South Africa.

Although this Week of Action no doubt provided an inspiration to black workers in their own struggle and also served as a warning to the regime itself, it was a one-shot expression of protest never intended to form part of a sustained campaign. An example of the limitations of this kind of action is provided in the experience of the Post Office Workers Union in England. The call for a blockage of communication received an embarrassing response from the rank-and-file and the leadership was forced to admit that it was due to a lack of information. A problem with this type of solidarity action is that it prevents the trade union movement from exercising its potential power to carry out long-term, widely-based actions grounded in solid educational preparations.

The AFL-CIO had broken away from the ICFTU in 1967 to pursue its own independent foreign policy programme. Its response to the 1976 bannings reflected its current position. On 19 January 1977, the AFL-CIO belatedly issued its first major policy statement for many years condemning the apartheid system and the "police state" in South Africa as "not only a danger to Blacks in the country but to Africa and all free men". The statement also pointed out that American companies, whose investments in South Africa brought a rate of return of 17.9 per cent in 1974, should do more to improve the conditions of black workers, including the recognition of black trade unions.

Two years later, during the exposure of the South African department of information scandal in 1979, important data were leaked concerning the department's role in fostering complicity between the international trade union movement and the apartheid regime. It was alleged that Dr Rhoodie (of the department) paid substantial amounts of money to western trade unionists in order to sabotage the ICFTU's Week of Action in the United States. The department of information apparently worked through the American public relations firm of Sydney Barron, where one Andrew Hatcher (former press secretary for Lyndon Johnson) worked. After Hatcher resigned he maintained contact with the AFL-CIO and in particular its president, George Meany. Rhoodie himself admitted:

Relations with the trade union movement were very important and in particular when a worldwide boycott was proposed against South African shipping and air communications by the ICFTU. Thanks to my good relations in France and the Netherlands, I was able to prevent American support for such far-reaching steps.

[Elseviers Magazine, Netherlands, August 1979.]

It is worthwhile to examine critically the positions taken by the various international bodies on the developments within the black trade union movement in South Africa during the 1970s. In contrast to the militant actions often taken by workers in different parts of the world in support of the brothers and sisters in South Africa, the leaderships of certain national and international bodies have often played quite an ambiguous and sometimes even negative role.

Much has already been written about alleged CIA involvement in Latin America through the AFL-CIO's creation, the American Institute for Free Labour Development (AIFLD). In 1964, the AFL-CIO encroached upon traditional ICFTU/British Trades Union Congress (TUC) territory in Africa and set up the African-American Labour Centre (AALC), upsetting the ICFTU considerably. With a much larger budget at its disposal (90 per cent of which comes from the US government), the AALC aimed at creating a pro-American, class collaborationist trade union leadership in the countries it penetrated. It has been able to finance vocational training schools and labour education colleges supported by research and documentation centres in Swaziland, Lesotho, Botswana and Malawi.

Since the early 1970s, an increasing number of South Africans have made trips to the United States under the sponsorship of the AFL-CIO. The most notorious black "stooge" trade unionist in South Africa is Lucy Nvubelo, leader of the "parallel" National Union of Clothing Workers. She has been a most favoured guest in recent years in the US because of her willingness to betray the interests of black workers by calling for an end to disinvestment campaigns. Claiming to represent the exploited Blacks under apartheid, Ms Mvubelo has been paraded around the world by those elements who continue to protect the status quo in South Africa and aim to ensure that international capital can continue to do "business as usual".

Mvubelo's exploits over the years deserve to be documented in a lengthy book some day. It might be co-authored by the ICFTU and the AFL-CIO and entitled, "We Love Lucy". Lured away from SACTU in the late 1950s by the ICFTU during its well-financed attempt to create a bogus alternative to SACTU, Mvubelo has subsequently become a puppet of the TUCSA leadership. On the international scene, and after the ICFTU broke with TUCSA in 1969, Lucy has been picked up by the AFL-CIO as their black ambassador against real solidarity with the exploited workers of South Africa. In 1975, Mvubelo was among a group of trade unionists who offered support to the then-Minister of Justice Kruger in "stopping communist infiltration into South Africa's labour force". Anyone only marginally familiar with South African "justice" knows what the minister of justice's form of "communism" amounts to. More recently, in January 1981, Rhodes University decided to award Mvubelo an honorary doctorate of social science in "recognition of her achievements in the trade union field". Genuine black working class leaders were outraged at this insult, rightly claiming that she had done nothing to advance the real interests of black workers. Cecil Rhodes would no doubt be thrilled with the appointment!

Similarly, other black trade unionists have effectively betrayed the interests of their brothers and sisters during visits to the United States. The December 1977 AFL-CIO conference was attended by BAWU delegates as well as Jacob Nthebe (general secretary of the Glass and Allied Workers Union), Clement Montsho (general secretary of the Transport and Allied Workers Union) and Leonard Sikhakhane (general secretary of the Sweet, Food and Allied Workers Union) - all Black Consultative Committee (BCC) unions (see Chapters Four and Eight). These trade unionists told conference delegates that withdrawal of investment from South Africa would cause suffering to Blacks. They also managed to get rid of a resolution which affirmed support for SACTU as the only movement recognized by black South African workers.

The ICFTU has also been guilty - although to a far lesser extent than the AFL-CIO - in openly endorsing unrepresentative black trade unionists to conduct speaking tours in various countries. Drake Koka of the Black Allied Workers Union (discussed in Chapter Four) was paraded through Canada and Europe in 1977 and received substantial backing from the Canadian and West German national federations. Koka's credibility as a legitimate trade union leader in exile was subsequently undermined and even within BAWU itself was challenged, with a majority of the membership disowning him.

Mistakes like this will continue to be made as long as national and international bodies are not clear on where they stand in regard to the labour movement in South Africa. The AFL-CIO clearly knows the kinds of trade unionists to escort to their conferences - those who are pro-investment and thus complementary to the interests of American imperialism. What a sad comment on how average American workers' solidarity with black workers in South Africa becomes a blatant form of complicity through the machinations of the national labour centre! Supporting American capitalism seems not to be a contradiction in the eyes of the AFL-CIO

The World Federation of Trade Unions (WFTU), comprised mainly of trade unions in the socialist countries, stands clearly and unequivocally on the side of non-racial and political trade unionism in South Africa. The WFTU and its affiliates have consistently supported SACTU campaigns for political and material assistance throughout the years. Concrete actions against the apartheid regime are also carried out by WFTU affiliates in capitalist countries; the ban on South African shipping by the Australian Firemen and Deckhands' Union during the Week of Action was carried out "in line with the policy of the WFTU", for example.

The policy of the ICFTU has been less clear cut in recent years. During the past 25 years the organization has often tried to build up and support any kind of opposition to SACTU. In 1959, for example, the ICFTU financed and actively encouraged the Federation of Free African Trade Unions of South Africa (FOFATUSA), a minority breakaway body closely allied to TUCSA. This attempt failed miserably and FOFATUSA collapsed officially in 1965. Even after this episode the ICFTU policy towards SACTU has been one of ambivalence.

The ICFTU's consistent opposition to apartheid, expressed particularly in the campaigns launched throughout the 1970s, has been commended by SACTU and all progressive trade unionists. However, they still persist in trying to find alternatives to SACTU and this has resulted in the ICFTU's support for a number of different tendencies throughout the past decade. Although they have provided considerable material assistance to some of the independent trade union groupings inside South Africa, for example FOSATU, there seems to be a discernible pattern of seeking out those groupings which they can most easily identify with politically, rather than necessarily following the lead of the black working class in South Africa as a whole.

In November 1980, the ICFTU held a two-day conference in London to discuss trade union solidarity with black South African labour organizations. No black South African trade unionists were in attendance! In fact, at exactly the same time, the United Nations and the British Anti-Apartheid Movement were holding a jointly-sponsored conference, where John Gaetsewe, SACTU general secretary, gave an address as did recently exiled Thozamile Botha, leader of the Ford strike in 1979-80 and SACTU member. With every opportunity to invite SACTU to attend its conference well in advance, the ICFTU issued a last-minute invitation which could not possibly be acted upon.

The ICFTU conference proceeded without any South African participation. The presence of one particular guest -Irving Brown, secretary general of the AFL-CIO - was significant, however, and no doubt tempered ICFTU discussions accordingly. Aside from Brown's reputation as a notorious witch hunter in the best of the American tradition, his presence in London might be an indication of the ICFTU's concern at increasing AFL-CIO activity in Africa, particularly as the latter labour aid programmes have a budget well in excess of that at the disposal of the ICFTU.

As the militancy of the black workers in South Africa intensifies, the ICFTU as well as all other international bodies will have to come to terms with new developments as they emerge. The recent ICFTU conference in London drew up a programme of action designed to force the South African government to recognize unregistered black trade unions. However, it will be interesting to see how far the ICFTU will venture in support of those unions which have a mass base and refuse to apply for registration under the new IC Amendment Act. Many of these militant unions are now advocating principles and policies which carry forward the traditions of SACTU that have guided non-racial trade unionism for the past twenty-five years. These unions also recognize the crucial link between economic and political struggle, and up until the present time the ICFTU has not promoted black trade unions espousing political trade unionism - at least not in the South African context.

It is interesting to note that in April 1980, the executive council of the ICFTU Inter-American Regional Office (ORIT) condemned "apolitical" trade unionism in Latin America. In July 1979, the general secretary of the ICFTU, Otto Kersten, put forward the following position at a conference in Caracas:

[Quoted in "Memorandum submitted by the South African Congress of Trade Unions to the International Labour Organization Conference", Geneva, June 1980.]

How this very progressive political position will be translated into support in the South African situation will be interesting to follow.

It may be that the ICFTU will gradually and with a great deal of reluctance move closer to support for SACTU, although it is highly unlikely that such support will ever be as solid as that of the WFTU. However, for the ICFTU, the alternative to SACTU-style trade unionism in South Africa leaves the organization open to compromise and the possibility of playing into the han