Friday, September 13, 2024

The Growth of Malignant and Exclusionary Social Movements
FASCISM BY ANYOTHER NAME
September 11, 2024
Source: Originally published by Z. Feel free to share widely.


(Elvert Barnes / Flickr)



Editor’s note: This is the second of three articles on the role of social movements in bringing about transformative change.

This article was produced by Human Bridges.

The U.S. and many other societies are cycling into situations of toxic polarization today; discussion, let alone consensus, often appears impossible and the advantage goes to exclusionary social movements built on malignant rather than goodwill impulses. As Heritage Foundation president Keith Roberts stated in July 2024, “[W]e are in the process of the second American Revolution, which will remain bloodless if the left allows it to be.”

As recently as a decade ago, violent social movements were gaining ground primarily in countries and regions that were struggling economically as they integrated themselves into the neoliberal global economy: examples include Russia, Hungary, and other states of the former Eastern Bloc, Turkey, India, and Greece. More recently, however, toxic polarization has also threatened to engulf countries at the core of the liberal democratic political grouping, including France, Germany, Italy, the UK, and the U.S.

In every case, the malignant social movement aims to overthrow a political order built—at least notionally—on principles of inclusion and goodwill, which the movement blames for its followers’ loss of economic and political status within their societies. What’s most striking, even counterintuitive, about this takeover is its seeming inexorability, due to the failure of parties of the center and left to offer coherent alternatives—and the resulting landscape in which extreme positions are steadily normalized.

The result is a crisis of democracy, stunting people’s faith in collective self-government owing to its inability to help address practical problems such as climate change, economic inequality, and mass migration. To reverse this trend, we must first understand the conditions that brought it about.

Nine Developments That Produce Toxic Polarization

Toxic polarization becomes possible, if not inevitable, when a convergence of political, economic, and social conditions activate three powerful forces:


Malignant bonding: An impulse to solidify communities built on resentment, bigotry, and a desire to exclude those who are “different”;


The scarcity mind: A psychological state that frames social life as a zero-sum game pitting oneself and one’s social affinity group against a racial, ethnic, or class-based other; and


Trans-historical trauma: The fears and compensating behaviors that accumulate over many centuries of physical and emotional violence and become encoded in our collective behavior.

When they converge, these conditions lay the groundwork for a conventional wisdom built on limited assumptions about what can be achieved by society. This in turn produces a deep sense of alienation from the existing order, especially among the dominant racial, ethnic, and class-based groups, which in turn generates new, exclusionary social movements. By alienation, we mean a feeling of isolation and disconnection from the larger society or from what that society is becoming. Alienation can quickly turn into a lack of sympathy and lead to open hostility toward the supposedly undeserving portion of the population.

The pivotal forces in this process are social movements, which are the incubators and carriers of the zeitgeist. Exclusionary social movements, which come to the fore in periods of toxic polarization, always either exist or are latent. So are inclusionary social movements, which aim to build on a very different set of impulses: empathy, goodwill, good-faith communication, mutual aid, and an openness to finding common ground in inclusive and widely beneficial change.

Traditionally, these two types of movements either clash or coexist, but neither seizes the upper hand for more than a limited period. Today, however, we are witnessing the convergence of nine key developments, some of them dating back decades, which favor the rise of powerful and possibly long-lasting exclusionary social movements:


Decreased economic progress and social mobility: The developed world has witnessed a decline in economic expansion and social mobility stemming from the outsourcing of jobs and vastly unequal growth patterns in the developing world. Rising global levels of migration, partly due to the imposition of neoliberal economic policies, complemented by insurgencies in the Middle East and parts of East Asia, have caused dominant ethnic groups in receiving countries to feel threatened. Often, the concern is with “job theft” or crime, but the underlying impulse is racial or cultural prejudice.


Self-inflicted austerity: Four decades of fiscal austerity, rationalized by neoliberal economics and concentrated primarily on social spending, stalemate and stigmatize previously successful efforts to bring underprivileged and socially marginalized groups into the circle of prosperity.

Over the past two centuries, the state has emerged as the core agency for delivering on the promises of the inclusive or goodwill agenda. Austerity has the knock-on effect of “starving the state,” causing programs that large sections of the population depend on to deteriorate along with the goodwill agenda they were founded on. Benefits are curtailed, service worsens, and the citizenry become disgruntled or even alienated from the system that created and built loyalty through them.


A deteriorating retail encounter with the state: An additional effect of constraints imposed by austerity and rising debt is a decline in the state’s delivery of services. Bureaucratic agencies become less efficient and responsive and more impersonal. Also, the physical infrastructure deteriorates. These developments leave residents feeling further alienated from the state.


Rising debt at all levels: While the severity of debt burdens is often debatable, they reinforce austerity at the government level and hold back households’ and governments’ ability to invest for the future, further weakening inclusive movements. Over the past 50 years, these debt burdens have come increasingly under the control of global banks, investors, and multinational institutions: a “debt industry” that sees them as an opportunity to exploit rather than a means of equitable growth and development.


A sense of national decline: Political and economic collapse, stalemated wars that cost money and lives and lead to crises in national morale, and the erosion of a previously exalted geopolitical status give rise to a sense of decline within the society. Fifty years of failed wars, from Vietnam to Iraq, have been costly in blood and treasure, but are remembered in the American popular imagination as gallant missions that would have succeeded if the cause had not been betrayed by defeatist politicians.


Fear of loss of potency: This is fed by a fear of declining fertility, especially within the dominant ethnic group; declining birth rates contribute to a sense that their overall position in society is crumbling. This creates a platform for theories like the “Great Replacement” to take hold, leading in turn to further marginalization of ethnic minorities and migrant communities and a new wave of racial bigotry and violence.

Among men within the dominant ethnic group, the decline in birth rates aggravates misogyny based on a zero-sum, scarcity-based belief that women, by claiming their rights, are infantilizing and castrating them. This sometimes results in a violent backlash against women’s rights.


Energy, environmental, and technological crises: Global warming generates fears that the current living model is unsustainable, or that the crisis is a hoax intended to persuade people to accept a lower living standard. Fears of nuclear warfare endure but are now accompanied by concerns about new, high-tech forms of warfare and surveillance being used against people. The increasing role of sophisticated, computer-based systems in nearly every aspect of daily life creates a deepening fear that many long-time occupations will be eliminated or downgraded, damaging millions of workers’ confidence in both their livelihood and sense of personal worth.


Growth of corporate and financial power: As union power declines and business evolves into a new model in which companies are managed as a collection of salable assets rather than productive enterprises, people grow more alienated from the capitalist system. On the right, people are encouraged to blame stigmatized groups (the Jews, the Chinese, the Arabs) for wielding economic power against them and covertly encouraging their “replacement” by migrants.


Inclusionary movements lose their capacity for movement-building: Social movements built on goodwill, while in the ascendancy, come to rely on the state to address challenges related to inclusion, through policies and programs that address socioeconomic inequality and marginalization. But with the state on a starvation diet, the leadership of these movements no longer have the means to address their inclusionary goals; their policies and programs become—or appear to become—untenable. The leadership can no longer deliver results for their popular base.

Focused, in an electoral democracy, on winning elections, the leadership seek a new formula and new backing that will enable them to remain in power. They concede that capital is in the driver’s seat and that challenging its interests and ambitions is futile, leading to a shifting of focus to crafting technocratic, “third-way” policies such as welfare reform and marginally milder alternatives to closing the border. These fail to win back the movement’s base, instead creating an opening for exclusionary movements to expand their popular support.

Over time, the leadership of the exclusionary movement are emboldened to claim the accomplishments of the inclusionary movement as their own, seizing control of the historical-cultural narrative. In this telling, the abolition of slavery, the vast expansion of the middle class in the postwar decades, and the end of legal segregation become examples of America’s greatness rather than the outcome of decades of struggle against violent opposition from exclusionary movements.

When it refuses to buy into this version of the story, the inclusionary movement is demonized for failing to celebrate America. (“The American people rejected European monarchy and colonialism just as we rejected slavery, second-class citizenship for women… and (today) wokeism,” the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 “Mandate for Leadership” declared. “To the left, these assertions of patriotic self-assurance are just so many signs of our moral depravity and intellectual inferiority.”)

Exploiting Alienation

The scarcity mind informs both the framing of the nine developments just described and the response to them. Some are quite real—declining economic growth, austerity, the resulting rise in migration and insurgencies, the climate crisis, and the rise of corporate power—and some reflect a psychological state—fear of the other, fear of debt in the abstract, and fear of national decline. Collectively, they nurture a profound feeling of alienation.

As alienation increases, people grow more desperate to be seen and heard, to belong, and to feel that the powers directing society are on their side—and not someone else’s. These impulses generate new, exclusionary social movements, fueling a zeitgeist that spreads malignant bonding and toxic polarization, and which can then be used to forge a dynamic and passionate new political thinking of the right.

Alienation gives malignant bonding a powerful, long-lasting pull, at least while the conditions that facilitate it persist. In our time, Roberts’s “second American Revolution” takes its place within a pattern of self-renewal that began with the 1968 “silent majority” election of Richard Nixon in a campaign built on coded racism (“law and order”) and extends to the 2016 and 2020 elections that brought Donald Trump to power and then solidified his right-wing populist MAGA movement.

Starving the state helps sustain this cycle as it accelerates the delegitimation of the inclusionary agenda. To gain power, however, a social movement needs resources and a conduit to the institutional and financial apparatus of capitalism and the state. For this, it needs the support of at least a portion of what we might call the Third Force: the elites, including propertied individuals who amass capital and control access to it and the institutions that defend and promote their interests.

The Third Force typically finds it easiest to form alliances with exclusionary rather than inclusionary movements, since the former find their organizing principle in imagined scarcity and dreams of a lost golden age and, therefore, seldom question existing wealth arrangements. Additionally, exclusionary movements fetishize power, making them useful partners in controlling marginal social elements.

At the same time, often-chaotic exclusionary social movements need the organized, disciplined institutional structures and expertise that the Third Force can build for them:Think tanks that can turn ideological preferences and resentments into policies (example, the Heritage Foundation);
Media and messaging platforms (example, Fox News, Newsmax, and social media influencers);
Advocacy groups (example, the Federalist Society); and
An electoral machine and fundraising capabilities that can pull together a group of well-to-do donors behind a populist leader (example, the Republican Party, political action committees).

Over time, these resources enable exclusionary movements and their leaders to generate new elites, operating on a somewhat different set of assumed principles than the previous elites, but still desiring to establish a new status quo. The nature of this new set of arrangements always depends greatly on the movement’s relationship with the Third Force.

The success of this cycle of self-renewal blocks progressive political forces from implementing changes that might address the concrete issues giving rise to feelings of alienation: economic stagnation and austerity, the loss of workers’ power and the rise of a corporate-financial hegemony, and technological fears.

A Way Forward for Inclusive Movements?

An exclusionary movement built on alienation and malignant bonding, when combined with the resources of the Third Force, can radically change the direction of society, potentially reversing decades of social and economic progress. It can also, as we have just seen, change the direction of the rival inclusionary movement, neutralizing it while setting it up as the enemy for supporters of the exclusionary movement to rally against.

Even in the long periods when inclusionary movements have been ascendant, their rivals work to undermine them. In the 1960s and early 1970s in the U.S., when it seemed that many inclusionary goals, ranging from socioeconomic equality for people of color to universal health care, were within reach, the seeds of a powerful reaction opposing these goals were already sprouting. But inclusionary leaders often ignored or dismissed them. Real or perceived crises were then exploited, often very successfully, by exclusionary social movements as grounds for pinning the blame on their opponents.

One reason why this strategy is effective for the exclusionary movements is that attacks on vulnerable groups—women, migrants, racial and ethnic minorities, and gender nonconformists—are easily rationalized and emotionally gratifying to embattled working people who are used to occupying a more favored place in society. Another and equally important reason is that inclusive social movements often respond by emphasizing the gap between society’s goals and its achievements, rather than highlighting its real accomplishments as reason to believe it can do better. This approach easily devolves into blaming and shaming the exclusionary movement’s target audience, which that movement can then easily exploit.

Our next article will address the following questions related to the inclusionary movements: What makes them—despite generating mass support for long periods—susceptible to this cycle, and what does this tell us about the requirements for making them successful in the long run? Why have the inclusionary movements not been able to sustain and renew themselves to the same degree as their exclusionary rivals? What holds them back, and how can they find the capacity to do so?

Colin Greer is the president of the New World Foundation. He was formerly a professor at the City University of New York, a founding editor of Social Policy magazine, a contributing editor at Parade magazine for almost 20 years, and the author and coauthor of several books on public policy. He is the author of three books of poetry, including Defeat/No Surrender (2023).

Eric Laursen is an independent journalist, historian, and activist. He is the author of The People’s Pension, The Duty to Stand Aside, The Operating System, and Polymath. His work has appeared in a wide variety of publications, including In These Times, the Nation, and the Arkansas Review. He lives in Buckland, Massachusetts.
Worker Solidarity Is the Best Strategy to Defeat Rising Fascism
September 12, 2024
Source: Labor Notes

Image by Local 78

Donald Trump and his accomplices want working people to look at each other with distrust and divide ourselves over banal differences. The prejudices they foment against Latino immigrants, Black people, and LGBTQ people mask their real agenda: stomping on the rights and power that organized workers have won.

But for progressives who want to engage with our co-workers on these issues, we have to watch out for the mirror image of these prejudices in our own attitudes. It’s important to listen to your co-workers’ concerns before drawing conclusions about their true attitudes and world outlook. Just because someone likes Trump, that does not automatically make them a fascist.

In my experience talking with my fellow construction workers, you have to start by building a relationship grounded in mutual respect and recognition of each other’s contributions to the workplace.
WHO’S ON YOUR SIDE?

At one job, I used to engage in arguments over immigration policy or government spending with a union brother who was a Trump supporter. But at the end of the day we both had to work outside under inclement weather, removing asbestos-covered pipes, and deal with the many risks associated with the job.

This union brother backed me up when another worker wanted to confront me for saying my priority as a shop steward was the well-being of the workers, not production. Despite being a Trump supporter, he understood the role of a steward.

I began a conversation with this brother before one of the rallies during the #CountMeIn campaign in Hudson Yards—a major struggle in New York City from 2017 to 2019 over whether the largest real estate construction project in U.S. history would be built entirely with union labor.

The conversation touched on how the non-union companies had brought immigrant workers to work on the project. Some union workers thought we should call immigration on them.

I told him I didn’t think that was the solution—the correct approach was to organize them. We should think of immigrant workers not as a threat to our jobs, but as future members of our union. It’s in the union’s interest that all workers doing the same kind of work be organized and united. It’s in the bosses’ interest to throw up obstacles, make solidarity look impossible, and keep us disorganized and divided.

The worker replied that before helping immigrant workers, we should attend to the interests of Americans first. I pointed out an obvious contradiction: I, an undocumented immigrant union laborer, was standing with him against a big developer who was taking away our work—and who was an American citizen like him. This was a class struggle, and solidarity among workers mattered more than his shared nationality with the developer.


HARDER TO ANSWER

I don’t have the answers for everything, however. The recent wave of immigrant asylum-seekers has proven very difficult for many workers to accept.

Older day laborers like my father have been able to integrate into the informal economy, slowly establishing particular rates for the work they do. Newer immigrant asylum-seekers are selling their labor power at a lower rate, outcompeting this older generation.

Union labor, too, now has to compete with a larger pool of immigrants, who—ignorant of their rights as workers, or afraid to enforce them because of vulnerable immigration status, or just desperate for work—fall victim to the overexploitation at construction body shops and other unscrupulous employers.

I hear workers taking issue with the services provided to asylum-seekers, including shelter, contrasting it with New York City budget cuts at schools and public agencies. They say, “The roads are not paved, the streets are not clean, but the city has money to give these migrants food and let them stay at five-star hotels.”

Immigrant workers contrast the services the city gives to these asylum-seekers with their own experience of arriving in this country. In their view, no one helped them get where they are; they did it through their own hard work.

MIXED EMOTIONS

It would be easy to assume that these workers hate immigrants, but I find that this is not the case. In fact, many are immigrants themselves.

They will often sympathize with the plight of the asylum-seekers. Their issue is with the resources the city is providing, which from their perspective is straining the budget and taking away from other areas, like homeless shelters.

They’re also afraid that bringing all these immigrants into the city will increase crime rates—a fear that’s often fanned by lurid news stories, though the actual statistics show that immigrants are far less likely to commit crimes than people born in the U.S.

One way I’ve tried to counter these arguments is by reminding other immigrant workers that the same was said about them when they arrived in this country—but this isn’t very effective, since it doesn’t really address the issues they are raising.

We can’t simply brush off concerns by blaming them all on Trump’s scaremongering. We have to acknowledge that people have legitimate worries about their family’s safety, their city’s meager public services, and their own bargaining power for better wages.

But we must also express that there’s more than one way to solve these problems. The MAGA approach of criminalizing immigrants and supporting massive raids on jobsites will not only terrorize our communities, but also break apart any chance of working-class solidarity.

DON’T DEPORT—ORGANIZE

When over-exploited immigrants are outcompeting other workers, the union approach should be to support these immigrants in organizing on the job.

A Biden administration policy called Deferred Action for Labor Enforcement offers a work permit and protection from deportation to workers willing to testify against a company that has committed labor or safety violations.

DALE is the cornerstone of the organizing approach my union is pursuing in its campaign at body shops. It’s a worker-centered approach that protects workers while going after bad employers.

Organizing can not only protect immigrants and integrate them better into working-class communities, but also make the union movement the backbone of the immigrant movement.

My union, LiUNA Local 78, a union of asbestos removal workers, was founded in 1996 by immigrants. When our first contract was signed, the news was read in English, to little fanfare; then in Spanish, to which half the room exploded in cheers; and then in Polish, to which the other half of the room exploded in cheers.

Our local is infused with the culture and attitudes of immigrant communities. This is a consequence of the right organizing approach: seeking to bring all the workers doing this particular work into the same union.

FEELINGS, NOT FACTS

Many of the concerns I hear about immigrants and asylum-seekers are based on misinformation—and I could spend a lot of time countering these assertions with facts.

I could point out that undocumented immigrants contribute $1 billion in tax revenue in six states alone. I could say that much of the $1.6 billion that New York City spent on services for asylum-seekers last year went to non-profit emergency shelter agencies, many of which lack appropriate sanitary facilities like showers or toilets—hardly five-star hotels. I could argue that politicians are scapegoating immigrants for their own bad policies.

I could also spend a good part of my 30-minute lunch break breaking down how wars, climate disasters, sanctions, and social instability have caused the recent wave of immigration we are seeing.

But I think such efforts would be futile. The social discontent that fuels MAGA is not based on specific disagreements over policy.

The problem is not that people are uninformed. The problem is that people feel alienated from their work and powerless to change things in their community. That’s why they’re angry at the thought of someone getting some help.

MAGA is built on sentiments meant to divide us. It offers a very narrow definition of what is normal or acceptable, and blames every problem on outsiders or people who are different. But solidarity and diversity have always made the union movement strong.

Combating Trump can’t only be done by arguing facts with people. You have to practice solidarity at the worksite, and be the example of how a good unionist thinks and acts.

In the workplace, rather than combat it by moralizing—which is what MAGA itself does—we should combat it by reminding our co-workers of the mutual toil, respect, and struggle that unites us as working people. We do this by being good co-workers, respectful debaters, and overall, committed unionists.

And if the threat of fascism does materialize, the groundwork laid in our jobsites may be crucial to inspiring and mobilizing workers to come out and confront it. While the class struggle is fought on the shop floor, fascism has to be fought in the street.

Bridging Political Divides Through Solidarity

September 10, 2024
Source: Labor Notes


How should unions engage with members drawn to right-wing, anti-worker politics and candidates? One union trying to tackle this disconnect is the Communications Workers (CWA).

Steve Lawton, former president of CWA Local 1102 in New York (now merged with Local 1101), has been heavily involved with political education through his work as a local leader and in the District 1 political department.

In this interview he discusses organizing in a union with many Trump-supporting members, how to talk with members about immigration, and strategies for organizing and building solidarity across political divides.

Katy Habr: You spent some time as the president of CWA Local 1102 in Staten Island. What was the political landscape of the local?

Steve Lawton: We had a local where 45 percent of the workers came from Verizon, which is where I came from. They were mostly white men. Over the 31 years I worked there, I watched them change politically. They went from being apolitical, maybe supporting the union’s political programs because they were strong supporters of the union and it’s what they thought they should do. About 60 percent of members even joined the Working Families Party and the union went to visit Occupy Wall Street.

But after a bad strike in 2011, they started to be discontented with the union and were less willing to accept the union’s political programs that they didn’t think were helping them.

Today they are probably 70 percent conservative-leaning, on a spectrum from really conservative right-wing to maybe conservative but pro-union to maybe even a conservative Democrat type.

Then 55 percent of the local was a group from EZ-Pass, newly organized call center workers. That group tended to be workers of color and mostly women, maybe 80 percent. I don’t know if they are Democrats or Republicans, but they were much more connected to things like paid sick leave and paid family leave. I could see the difference between these two constituencies in terms of politics.

How has it been trying to talk to people across these divides, and what do you think is the most effective way? Is it through trainings like “Runaway Inequality,” workplace action, or one-on-one conversation?

When Trump got elected, we were able to cross some bridges because we had an open, democratic organization, although we continued to push progressive politics like supporting the Black Lives Matter movement.

We allowed anyone to be a leader, no matter what their political views. We welcomed them and we gave them responsibility. We did not try to censor them. We held open and respectful general membership meetings where debate was allowed.

Some people are dug in on their ideas. But I like to think that people in the middle politically were open to having conversations.

We talk a lot about solidarity in the labor movement. Often U.S workers are pitted against immigrants and are told that immigrants are taking their jobs or it’s not in their interest to support immigrants’ rights. How do you have those conversations with people?

One of the things we did about immigration was we held a luncheon with undocumented workers and our core union leadership groups, which were mostly right-wing Republicans, in concert with the local worker center. And it was a great conversation.

What came out of it was that a lot of the members did not understand the plight of the undocumented workers in terms of why they’re not coming legally because they couldn’t afford it, the fact that they were here so long and had families, that they pay taxes—all those things really made them understand. Also hearing about the mistreatment that immigrants faced.

They agreed that people shouldn’t be picked up by an employer here on Staten Island, taken to a job in Pennsylvania, and be left there to have to walk home or get beaten up. These are some of the horror stories that these immigrant workers told. That really translated to our members. It was very fruitful.

I have an example of this guy Jeff, who is a total Trump supporter. I’ve known him a long time, so I’m able to engage with him. I remember one time during Covid-19, we did a huge event, an essential worker caravan that included undocumented immigrants with a worker center. The right-wing members were so pissed at us. Jeff comes at me saying “What are you doing? Immigrants!” This whole thing.

And I said, “I understand you have a hard, deep position on this, but let’s break it down. I’m not the politician who creates the policies. Whether or not we agree with the policy, I am not in charge of that. I’m also not the employer who hires these folks. There’s people that hire them. Do you agree with me? Does our society rely on undocumented workers?”

He goes “Yes—they shouldn’t. They should be held accountable for that too.”

I said, “Here I am, the labor leader in this community. You’re a worker. You might not see what I’m doing to support that worker as support for you. But the truth of the matter is, as a labor leader I’m not concerned with how they got here, I’m not concerned with why they’re here, and I’m not concerned with who’s hiring them. What I’m concerned with is the safety and welfare of every worker in this community.

“Because by looking at it from that angle, whether it be OSHA, whether it be wages, that affects you and affects all of us, right? If we allow workers to be mistreated by OSHA because they’re undocumented, doesn’t that affect your OSHA standards?”

And he got there. He was like, “You know, no one’s ever explained it to me this way.”

I said, “I’m not here for a political reason. I’m here simply because of solidarity and understanding that the principle of safety is one that we have to put across the board as labor.”

I was able to break through that way, and he calmed down and actually engaged in it and understood it. When they’re coming at you fired up with all the rhetoric that they’ve been pumped with, and the misinformation, you can’t engage with them with the way that they expect you to answer. That’s what they want. I try to remove that out of the equation first, and then bring it to where they are as a worker.

It seems like these one-on-one conversations really work. Can you tell me a bit about how that translates into a larger setting?

We’ve been developing this curriculum called Democracy Defenders. Immigration, inflation, and crime were the three issues that we put up. We’d go through the slideshow, and then we’d ask the groups to answer a prompt—something like a member saying: “What about all these illegal immigrants that are coming here and taking our jobs?”

The themes that we wanted to capture were: a) The migration problem was due to reasons that are outside of our control: poverty, violence, and ecological disaster; b) It’s happening globally, it’s not something that’s just here; c) Asylum seekers are not here illegally. We explained about asylum. And then we gave them a bunch of data points about the positivity of immigrant workers.

The second part of the training is how to have a one-on-one conversation. We did a thing called Organizing Theater where we model those conversations. We teach our organizers how to engage; to have that philosophy of meeting people where they are, not being judgmental, not engaging in in direct conflict.

You’re not here to win a competition or a debate. You’re here to try to move the conversation into something that you can connect on, or you’re looking to deescalate and get out of here. We make the point that some conversations aren’t worth having and gauging them is part of the job as the organizer.

We tell them, here’s some points that you can be making—not right away, but if you’re able to engage and open a conversation, then you can say, “Did you know about this point or this point?” We called it Identify, Educate, and Mobilize. Identify people who want to have conversations with you, educate them where you can, then mobilize them for actions.

So the purpose of the trainings isn’t so much to change everyone’s mind, but to train people how to have these one-on-ones where the change can happen?

We currently have a big problem. The political fights of the Trump years really beat up our front line, and a lot of union leaders have pulled back on political conversations. I think that’s a mistake. I think that we’re giving too much voice to too small of a group.

We need to start listening to our members that don’t fit the traditional framework. New members coming into the unions are much more progressive, more Black and Brown. I think they’re going to be more in line with policies like immigration reform. There’s a lot of opportunities in these newer groups for political power.

I think we need to teach our frontline members to break through the fear. We need to push forward mapping and having targeted conversations and building lists of people who support us. We never had 100 percent of the people doing political work for our unions. Let’s start building from this core who does agree.


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Katy Habr

Katy Habr is a former union researcher and Ph.D. candidate in sociology at Columbia University in New York City.

There Is No Such Thing as Spontaneous Worker Organizing

The 1930s saw the biggest labor upsurge in US history. Just like today, there was economic discontent and a general pro-labor atmosphere. But labor didn’t just passively benefit. Instead, it saw its opportunity to act, building unions for the long haul.
September 11, 2024
Source: Jacobin


A group of dressmakers on strike hold signs urging unionization and fair labor practices 1958

This engaging interview with labor historian Nelson Lichtenstein sheds light on the rise of the Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO) in the 1930s and its enduring impact on American labor.

Lichtenstein delves into the CIO’s formation, its breakthrough in organizing industrial workers, and the role of key figures like John L. Lewis and Walter Reuther. He recounts pivotal moments such as the Flint sit-down strike against General Motors and the CIO’s creative strategy of infiltrating company unions in the steel industry. Lichtenstein offers thoughtful perspectives on the CIO’s handling of racial divisions and its ties to the Democratic Party. Throughout the conversation, Lichtenstein underscores the CIO’s historical significance while drawing interesting parallels to today’s labor organizing efforts.

This interview was conducted by Benjamin Y. Fong for the Jacobin podcast Organize the Unorganized: The Rise of the CIO. Nelson Lichtenstein is research professor at UC Santa Barbara and the author of numerous books and articles relevant to Organize the Unorganized, including State of the Union: A Century of American Labor (Princeton, 2003), Walter Reuther: The Most Dangerous Man in Detroit (University of Illinois Press, 1997), and Labor’s War at Home: The CIO in World War II (Temple University Press, 2003).

Benjamin Y. Fong

What was the CIO, and what is its primary historical significance?

Nelson Lichtenstein

The letters CIO originally stood for Committee for Industrial Organization. That was a committee set up in 1935 by John L. Lewis, who was the leader of the United Mine Workers [UMW], then a very large union with six hundred thousand members. He was joined by Sidney Hillman, who was head of the Amalgamated Clothing Workers, and David Dubinsky, who was head of the International Ladies Garment Workers Union. At first, it was just a committee for industrial organization within the American Federation of Labor [AFL].

The committee said, “Look, we must take advantage of the situation, which is now occurring, with the [Franklin D.] Roosevelt administration and with new labor laws.” The Wagner Act was just being passed and there were a lot of strikes, all sorts of activities going on in 1933, ’34, ’35. They thought the American Federation of Labor should take advantage of this and begin new organizing campaigns in industries that were not organized and very important. Those industries were at the commanding heights of the economy. In those days, that would be like automobiles, steel, electrical products, things of that sort. They were often called the mass production industries, because they used assembly lines. They were big and run by big companies, too. The obvious analogy today would be Amazon and Walmart.

The American Federation of Labor had been reluctant to do that kind of organizing, partly because there’d been lots of defeats. There had been a huge defeat in 1919 when they tried to organize steel. There had been efforts in auto, textiles, etc. So the AFL was reluctant to plunge into this because it feared losing, but there was also a general sentiment that they were only going to organize skilled workers. Often, that meant white, older Northern European workers.

This wasn’t uniform. The Mine Workers took in all sorts of people, and they were in the AFL. But the AFL tended to be comprised of what we call craft unions. That is, skilled workers, like railroad engineers, skilled electricians, carpenters, etc. The AFL thought, “Those workers are in high demand. They have more money, they get higher wages, and we can organize them. We’ll leave aside women, we’ll leave aside immigrants, African Americans too, and we’ll leave aside people in the industries where the companies were tough and anti-union.”

The CIO challenged that thinking. And what happened over a two-year period was that the committee began to organize. The Mine Workers were the treasury, and they began to set up committees of their own, like the Steel Workers Organizing Committee, or the Packing House Workers Organizing Committee, or the Textile Workers Organizing Committee. They began to hire organizers. Many of those organizers were radicals, communists, and socialists.

All of this created conflict within the American Federation of Labor, because some other unions thought, “Well, wait a minute, you are stepping into our jurisdiction.” With the Carpenters union, for instance, they said, “If we have a few carpenters in various industrial plants, and you’re trying to organize the whole plant or the whole factory, you’re going to step on our toes.” So conflict was created.

By late 1937, the CIO had been transformed from the Committee for Industrial Organization into the Congress of Industrial Organizations, meaning that it was now an independent labor federation with its own unions in it. This lasted for eighteen years, but it was an important eighteen years. In 1955, the CIO and the AFL would merge once again and become the AFL-CIO, but in the meantime, the CIO had a dramatic and fundamental impact on the organization of American workers, and on American capitalism in general.

Benjamin Y. Fong

Why did the CIO finally break through where previous efforts at industrial unionism had failed?

Nelson Lichtenstein

Well, I think that both Lewis and Hillman recognized that this was a once-in-a-generation opportunity. We have here the Great Depression, which has delegitimized business as the backbone of prosperity and success. The Great Depression had demonstrated the weaknesses and problems of American capitalism.

Second, new labor laws were being passed. In the beginning of the New Deal, there was the National Industrial Recovery Act, which had a section called Section 7A, which was put into the legislation at the behest of the AFL and Frances Perkins, who was secretary of labor. It said workers have the right to organize unions of their own choosing. The language of Section 7A would once again be put into the Wagner Act, which was an even more powerful piece of labor legislation passed in 1935. The preamble of the Wagner Act basically says, “If we want to make capitalism work, we have to have unions because unions will create purchasing power for ordinary workers. They’ll buy things and we’ll have prosperity and commerce.”

Then, of course, there was also the growing radical mood in the nation, in the same way that today we see much pro-labor sentiment. In 1935, collective action, unionism, and radicalism were all popular. Communists, socialists, and other radicals were not numerous, but they had a growing sense of self-confidence. Some labor leaders, again, had been old mainstream labor leaders and they finally saw the light. I’m not talking about the younger crowd. Of course, they were in favor of organization, but I’m talking about the older, established ones. They said, “Look, this is the opportunity. We’ve got to do something. We’ve got to use our treasury, use our resources, even put some of those radicals on the payroll.”

The degree to which Franklin Roosevelt [FDR] was pro-labor is debatable, but certainly, he was more so than Herbert Hoover. The CIO would say to workers, “We have a friend in the White House, and he wants you to join a union.” They used that language. That wasn’t 100 percent true, but it was true to a degree.

They thought the time was ripe, and we better do it now or we won’t have a chance again. That was true, because decades later, or just even a decade or two later, once business figured out how to fight the unions and more conservative forces were in charge of the government, it became much more difficult. So this was a moment of opportunity, and the CIO said, “We have to seize that.”

Benjamin Y. Fong

What are the factors that led the Mine Workers to be the leading organization here?

Nelson Lichtenstein

The fact is that all over the world, and for more than a century, mine workers have been a core constituency in the labor movement, and often radical. Mine work is dangerous. You’re underground. Supervision is difficult. It’s not like there’s a foreman that’s over your shoulder. And in fact, the tradition is that the workers organize the work underground. And of course, if they stop work, it’s very hard to find strike breakers.

Miners all over the world have been radical. There had been militant and practically insurrectionary strikes in the United States since the 1870s, and they’re legendary. Blair Mountain was a pitched battle between the Mine Workers and the US Army in 1921. There’d been this long tradition. On the other hand, there are many, many coal mines, and they’re often run by the railroads. Winning higher wages also meant winning higher prices. So the Mine Workers were thinking in broad societal economic terms. They thought, “We have to reorganize the entire industry in order to make unionism work.”

Now, the second thing about the Mine Workers, and the specific problem that Lewis and others had, was the anti-unionism of the big steel companies. There were hundreds and hundreds of coal mines all over the place. But when it came to the steel industry, it was an oligopoly. There was just US Steel and Bethlehem, a few other giant firms. They’d always resisted unionization. These steel companies owned some coal mines themselves. They were called captive mines.

Even where the Mine Workers had been successful by 1935, and they had a big spur of organization in the early ’30s, they had been unable to organize the captive mines. Lewis thought the only way to organize the captive mines was to organize the entire steel industry. Steel was, at that time, one of the great industries of America. Really with auto, it was one of the two great industries.

If you’re going to organize the steel industry, that’s a big operation. You need lots of organizers, you need a whole new strategy to do that. And the Miners were the vanguard.

Benjamin Y. Fong

What was the relation to earlier efforts at industrial organization?

Nelson Lichtenstein

The Industrial Workers of the World [IWW] had been a radical inspiration to a generation of leftists who came of age in the ’30s. But I think the CIO leaders, and including the radicals as well, understood that the IWW strategy was limited.

To the IWW’s credit, they wanted to organize immigrants, women, farmworkers, people that AFL had ignored, and also do it on an industrial basis, meaning everyone in one factory or farm or mill, not just an elite stratum. They understood that. But on the other hand, the Industrial Workers of the World had officially, formally said, “We don’t want to sign contracts. We don’t want to create a big institution. That hampers us, becomes a burden on us. We’re against that.”

I think the CIO people, again, from the left to the right, said, “Well, no, we have a Wagner Act, which is based on the idea of having collective bargaining and signing legally enforceable contracts, and we’re going to do that.” I don’t think there’s any distinction between the most militant communist on this question and John L. Lewis.

Now you might question this, but here’s the defense of this institutional unionism. Consciousness is episodic. Today we have much union enthusiasm among Starbucks baristas and whatnot. In 1935, there was a lot of enthusiasm for the New Deal. There had been enthusiasm in 1919 for unions in many industries. So consciousness is episodic. It can rise to great, almost revolutionary heights.

But it also can ebb, it also can go down. You can have recessions; you can have repression, you can have the passage of time, and you can have labor turnover. What a union does, and a union that signs a collective bargaining contract, is that it freezes that consciousness in an institutional-legal form, so that in a period of recession or repression or just apathy, the union still exists. It’s still there. Now, maybe it’s run by bureaucrats or something, but it still exists. It doesn’t disappear. What had happened with the Industrial Workers of the World, and with many other unions that had been unable to form a contract, is that they disappeared. There’s something worse than a bad union, and that’s no union.

Benjamin Y. Fong

John L. Lewis was known as a pretty conservative guy in the ’20s. What accounts for his change in the 1930s?

Nelson Lichtenstein

Well, you’re right that in the ’20s he was a petty tyrant. There were opposition groups in the Mine Workers, and he fought them. He expelled communists and socialists in the 1920s. Not to defend the union autocracy, but if you are in an organization where you fear that its existence can be destroyed by an ill-advised strike or other activity, then you’re going to crack down. That was his view. He was aware of the fragility of the UMW.

Now, in the ’30s, he became a creative opportunist. He said, “This is my opportunity, I’ll take it.” One thing he did was that he got in touch with all the people who were expelled from the union earlier and he offered them jobs. He also was willing to hire communists and socialists because he knew they were good organizers. Lewis famously was asked at a press conference, “Hey, President Lewis, you’re hiring all these communists. What’s going on here? What are you?” And Lewis said, “Who gets the bird, the hunter or the dog?” In other words, I’m the hunter. The communists are the dogs. They’re organizing the workers, but they’re going to be organized into my organization.

He also understood that you had to have the state on your side. He understood that you couldn’t just have rank-and-file enthusiasm or radicalism. You had to have the state. Lewis had had this experience for decades of the National Guard coming in and breaking strikes, or some legislature passing anti-union laws. But he saw and expected that Roosevelt would be on the side of the union. In 1935, he famously gave something like $500,000 to the Roosevelt reelection campaign, which today is probably the equivalent of $10 million or more. In those days, that was a new thing. Famously, when Roosevelt did not come to the support of the CIO during the steel strike in 1937, Lewis denounced Roosevelt in a Labor Day speech. He said, “It ill-behooves one who has supped at labor’s table to curse with impartiality labor and its enemies when they’re locked in deadly embrace.”

Lewis expected FDR to be on the side of the unions. To a degree, while FDR was not always reliable, much of the state apparatus in the ’30s was indeed pro-union. And not just the National Labor Relations Board, which was full of liberals and radicals. There was also, for example, the La Follette investigation, a Senate committee on the violations of free speech and the rights of labor in 1937–39. It publicized the anti-union and illegal activities of corporations.

For a moment in world history, Lewis was an absolutely crucial figure. He would then, later on, become more marginal. But between 1933 and 1940, he was an extraordinarily important figure.



Benjamin Y. Fong

What happened in Flint in ’37?

Nelson Lichtenstein

Well, some might say it was a “spontaneous” action, but I will not use the word spontaneous. I want to say a quick word about spontaneity. I will not use it. I think all social historians should ban the word spontaneity. It does not exist. Nothing is spontaneous.

“Spontaneous” is a word that people who are on the outside use to explain something they can’t understand because they don’t know what’s going on inside, or that the upper class uses to explain what’s going on below. All social activity, whether radical or conservative, is part of a world of knowing, thinking and planning. There were groups of radicals, groups of unionists, who’d been fighting the foreman, fighting the company for months or years. Finally, in late 1936, early ’37, they said, “The only way we’re going to win is to have a sit-down strike.” From the point of view of a New York newspaper man, or even from that of John L. Lewis on top, it might appear spontaneous, but it wasn’t.

But when these sit-down strikes happened, Lewis, instead of repudiating them, supported them. The Wagner Act is passed in 1935, and it has a mechanism for holding elections, negotiations, and signing contracts. All the companies, and the Republican Party for that matter, were saying, “The Wagner Act is unconstitutional. We will not obey it.” So the sit-down strikes were, in a sense, designed to force the companies to obey the existing law as it was written. That was the rationale for it. “Okay, we will do something illegal, but that’s because you’re doing something illegal. And once you’ve stopped resisting unionization and resisting the Wagner Act, then we will cease our sit-down strikes.”

In auto, they began in a few plants in Detroit — and Atlanta! — but the center of the sit-down strike activity would be Flint, Michigan, which was where General Motors had its most important plants. At that time, General Motors was the model corporation, and the largest corporation, in the United States. It was both technologically and organizationally at the cutting edge. It was the corporation that was studied at every business school for fifty years. “You want to have a corporation? You want to be a successful businessman? Model yourself after General Motors.” The auto industry at the time was highly innovative. It had the excitement of Silicon Valley today. So the audacity of taking on General Motors and getting them to come to the table was really something dramatic and important, and everyone knew it.

In 1937, when you had a sit-down strike in the important motor building, Chevy Four in Flint, that stopped the entire corporation. Most workers at General Motors were not on strike. Most of them were sort of sitting at home and seeing what would happen. It was this militant minority who were in the plants and who displayed an enormous heroism and organization to sustain these sit-down strikes for six weeks, bringing in food, sometimes battling the police, etc.

Now, one of the crucial things was that, because of the mood of the country, the state of Michigan had elected a governor named Frank Murphy, who did not intervene to suppress the strike. That would’ve been the normal thing to happen, and that would happen later on. But it didn’t happen in 1937, in part because Murphy was pro-labor, in part because Roosevelt and Frances Perkins were saying, “Don’t do it.” Lewis himself dramatically would say, in a meeting with Murphy, “If you’re going to send in the National Guard to shoot up the plant, I will go to the factory, bear my breast, and you’ll have to kill me first.”

Well, that didn’t happen, and on February 11, 1937, in the governor’s office in Lansing, a contract was signed between the UAW [United Auto Workers] and General Motors. It was a very short contract, with few provisions. But the crucial thing was General Motors recognized the UAW, not as the exclusive representative of all the workers, but as a representative. And that gave the UAW a warrant to then organize everybody. And that’s what happened. They only had a few thousand members in February of 1937, but by September, they had upward of three hundred thousand and the majority of the General Motors workforce.

And after that, you got this enormous surge of unionism. One of the results of the General Motors sit-down strike, and the victory that the UAW won, was that very quickly thereafter, Myron Taylor, the head of US Steel, and John L. Lewis have a famous luncheon at the Willard Hotel in DC, and they basically agreed, “Okay, US Steel will recognize the Steel Workers Organizing Committee, basically on the same basis as UAW. Not with exclusive jurisdiction, but as a representative, and you have the right to organize in the plants.” This was the great breakthrough for the CIO. But its moment of victory would not last unchallenged for long.

Benjamin Y. Fong

Could you talk a bit more about the CIO’s steelworker organizing campaign?

Nelson Lichtenstein

Well, it is true that the decision to organize US Steel is made basically over lunch at the Willard Hotel. But in steel, there had been this history of organization going back decades. One of the things that the steel industry had done, because they’d had this experience with unionism and they didn’t like it, in early 1933, the steel companies formed company unions. These are organizations set up and funded by the company. They’re designed to include rank-and-file workers, but also some middle managers, superintendents, foreman, people of that sort.

In the mid-’30s, many of these company unions had a good deal of support from ordinary workers, but they were really controlled by the companies. Some said at the time, “These are just phony unions run by the bosses; to hell with them.” The communists had done that earlier on. But the strategy of the steelworkers union, which I think was the right one, was to say, “We want to go into the company unions and take them over,” which is what they did. Many of these company unions became locals of the Steel Workers Union.

Now, here’s what’s good about that. The management, in seeking to control the workforce and the company, would bring in levels of workers who otherwise would be excluded from the union, like foremen and certain kinds of specialists, people they viewed as loyal to the company. But once those company unions become locals of the Steelworkers, you have a denser and more extensive membership than in other places. Some of the company unions would become particularly militant Steel Workers locals later on.

But in general, the Steel Workers Organizing Committee [SWOC] is very authoritarian, run from the top. When it becomes the United Steel Workers of America, that continues. Compared to the autoworkers union, it’s considered very much a kind of top-down operation. And that’s true, but at the very bottom, there’s a lot going on that is not apparent in the newspaper headlines of that day.

Benjamin Y. Fong

What lesson do you draw from SWOC’s investment in taking over the company unions?

Nelson Lichtenstein

You go where the workers are. In electrical, they had fishing clubs. There were baseball teams. Wherever the workers are, that’s where you go. By the way, I would say that today, companies have learned that lesson. It used to be that these company unions were formed, even in the ’40s. Today it’s almost a cardinal rule: an anti-union company never creates an organization where workers could come together and talk among themselves. At Walmart, which I studied, there are not even company Walmart picnics.

Benjamin Y. Fong

Some historians have argued that the CIO constrained the radical consciousness that was awakening at that time. What do you make of that idea?

Nelson Lichtenstein

I think the history we’ve lived through subsequently demonstrates, through things like Occupy [Wall Street], that you can’t have a pure kind of consciousness. You need institutions. Capitalism is an authoritarian, hierarchical, organized system. I’m being a Leninist here. To counter that, you need another kind of organized, structured army. As C. Wright Mills said, trade union leaders mobilize discontent, and then they structure it.

I just think that that’s the lesson of labor history. Labor unions are not revolutionary organizations. They are designed to cut a deal. I’m not being cynical here, and I don’t think I’m being hostile to the most important liberatory expressions of the working class. But if you’re going to cut that deal, then you have to sort of abide by it. It’s just the nature of capitalism. So I think it would be an overstatement to say the CIO was designed to suppress radicalism.

Yes, there were expressions of radicalism all over the place, and sometimes, yes, they were suppressed, as in what Lewis did with the Chrysler workers. After General Motors won, Chrysler workers went out. While in General Motors, you might have had two or three thousand workers sitting down in the plant, at Chrysler, you had twenty-five thousand who sat down. Now, Chrysler also had a company union, which had empowered and brought into it a lot of levels of workers who were later excluded from the union, like foremen. Chrysler had a very powerful union, and they were having a sit-down strike in Detroit a month after the Flint sit-down.

Lewis basically told them, “Stop, this is too much. You’re going to get a contract. You have got to stop this massive sit-down strike,” which really was taking over the company. He used whatever power he had to stop that radicalism. There’s no doubt about that. But his argument was, “We have to cut a deal here, and if we go too far, then there’ll be a backlash.”

Benjamin Y. Fong

And there was backlash, and a stopping of the CIO’s forward momentum.

Nelson Lichtenstein

Right. In the fall of 1937, we had a recession, a severe recession, partly brought on by FDR’s failure to continue a kind of expansionary Keynesian program. But some people argue that there was also a kind of capital strike. “Okay, we’re not going to invest because the labor costs are too high, so we’re going to shut down some plants.”

Anyway, there’s a severe recession, and recessions make it difficult for unions to organize and grow, especially given the fact that there were not union shop contracts at this time. The new members who had just joined the union, some of them drifted away, and it was difficult to organize new workers. The strike in what’s called the Little Steel companies, that strike was defeated by the companies in the summer of 1937.

But then the war comes along, and by 1940, you begin to get a tremendous employment boom. A sort of second state intervention takes place in which the state is in the midst of this mobilization for war. Then later on, after Pearl Harbor, the companies and the state come back and say, “Okay, we will ensure, in return for a no-strike pledge, that the unions can gain members in the new war industries and that you’ll have a kind of modified form of union shop.” This means that a worker who is employed in an industry where the union exists, will have to join the union and pay dues. Or if they don’t, if they refuse to do it, they will lose their job.

That meant that all the unions did in fact increase their membership by about 50 percent during the war, AFL and CIO together. Partly because of the expansion of existing unions, but also there was this [National] War Labor Board, which had a mechanism for ensuring that unions were recognized in places like southern textiles or warehousing, which had been very resistant to unionism.

Now, it was kind of a Faustian bargain here, because the other side of it was that there was a no-strike pledge, and the strike is the union’s ultimate weapon. At the top level, where you’re dealing with wages, these were being controlled on a national level. But strikes are not just about gross wage levels. They’re also about the intimate, daily interaction between workers and their foremen over all sorts of grievances and problems in the shop. The right to have a strike, to curb the tyranny of a petty foreman or other supervisor, is very important.

Strikes did of course take place during World War II. They were called wildcat strikes or illegal strikes. But then both the government and union leaders would say, “No, no, stop. Go back to work. We’ve signed a no-strike pledge.” Well, that created a lot of internal tension, as well as systems of authority and even authoritarian structures of power, which would continue into the postwar period.

So it was a kind of Faustian bargain there. I would say, given our experience of the last forty to fifty years, where opposition to unionism has been so intransigent that the Faustian bargain — the side of it that said, “The union’s going to exist and grow” — looks like a little better part of the deal than it did, say, before Ronald Reagan.

Benjamin Y. Fong

How would you characterize the CIO’s legacy in confronting racial and ethnic divisions in the working class?

Nelson Lichtenstein

The answer is mixed, unquestionably. Now you have some unions, often run by the communists, that were progressive. One of the great things about the communist moment in American history is that they understood, very early on, really late ’20s and early ’30s, that there was a sizable black working class, and that you had to have unity of the races to really make fundamental progress. You can look at the communist-led unions, the ILWU [International Longshore and Warehouse Union, the food and tobacco workers. They’re exemplary, for the most part.

However, you can find all sorts of racists in other CIO unions. America is shot through with racism. The white working class in the 1930s was straightforwardly racist, even the better elements of it. Did you have integrated dances? No. Was social equality a practice? No. You can find all sorts of racism, from steel to auto, you name it.

But when it came to having an organization or certainly a strike, they said, “Well, wait a minute, you want to win? If the black workers are in the motor building, which is the most central thing in an auto company, making the motor blocks, or if the black workers are slitting the throats of the cattle, as they’re on the disassembly line in the packing house, I mean, you got to have black workers in your union. You can’t exclude them.”

One of the crucial moments in the CIO’s history came in 1941 during the Ford strike. Henry Ford had hired lots of black workers. He went to the black churches, and he thought they’d be loyal. And many were loyal. They were better jobs than you could get somewhere else. But during the strike, the autoworkers knew they had to get black workers involved. They got in touch with the NAACP [National Association for the Advancement of Colored People] over the issue of black workers being strike breakers. But over the course of the strike, they convinced them not to be. There were lots of black workers in the Ford organization. By 1943, and really for many years after, the black workers were at the core of one of the most militant unions in the country. In Local 600, which had like eighty thousand workers at one point, it just became a cockpit of civil rights activism in the Midwest.

Benjamin Y. Fong

Walter Reuther emerged as the key CIO leader after the war. Could you describe his background and ascendance in the UAW and CIO?

Nelson Lichtenstein

Reuther came out of a German socialist family. He’d been sympathetic to the communists in the ’30s. He went to the Soviet Union and worked there for eighteen months. He then became a leader of the General Motors department of the UAW. He was very imaginative and brought around him a kind of socialist brain trust. He was very active in the war and was in favor of labor helping to run the defense industries in various ways. He had a famous plan for five hundred planes a day that would be run in a joint labor-management way.

While he was formally in favor of the no-strike pledge, he could see the damage this was doing. So in late 1945, he was very adamant about having a big strike at General Motors, which they did. It had a very progressive, advanced demand. It wasn’t just for more wages, but also to keep the price of General Motors cars stable so that you wouldn’t have an inflationary upheaval.

He was a dynamic figure, albeit linked eventually to anti-communism. But he was not a retrograde, not a conservative. He declared, “The UAW is the vanguard in America.” When he used that word “vanguard,” every radical wondered, “What, the Vanguard Party, you mean?” And in fact, that was what he meant, actually.

Philip Murray died in 1952, and Reuther became leader of the CIO. By that point, all the CIO leaders, and AFL too, were looking for a merger. They were looking to get back together. So there really wasn’t much to Reuther’s leadership of the CIO. It was basically preparing for the merger. By the ’50s, the AFL was growing, and it had more members than the CIO. Partly because companies liked the AFL, being not as radical as the CIO, but also because American capitalism was not going to have more and more auto plants and steel plants. We had retail, trucking, bakeries, and all sorts of other little industries where the AFL had always been. The AFL was really twice as big as the CIO by the mid-’50s. When the merger takes place, Reuther plays second fiddle to George Meany.

Reuther remains a kind of iconic, progressive figure. He has many of his own problems. He runs the UAW with, not exactly an iron hand, but a very effective autocratic hand. He always wins reelection by 99 percent of the vote. He’s trying to be progressive, but there’s the kind of iron cage of collective bargaining. It does have these structures, these legal structures. Reuther was imprisoned within it. In the book I wrote about him, I called Reuther a prisoner of the institutions he’d created. He welcomed the New Left, at least the early New Left, because he thought, “Oh, this is a new spirit of mobilization and activity.” But he was trapped within a world of Democratic Party politics in the 1960s, supportive of Lyndon B. Johnson’s war policy, and never really broke free from that. He died in 1970.

Benjamin Y. Fong

Do you think the CIO was too dependent on the Democratic Party?

Nelson Lichtenstein

Well, the state is important, and the CIO was right to understand you had to have the state on your side, or at least being neutral. But that can easily lead to a kind of dependence. There was a cult of Roosevelt, no doubt about it. And there was a kind of relation where the union political activity just consisted of giving money to Democrats. The Democratic Party, certainly back in the ’30s and ’40s, was a completely mixed bag because they had this huge southern reactionary, anti-labor, racist wing. And if you’re strengthening the Democratic Party, you’re strengthening that wing.

So some thought about a Labor Party. That was discussed and debated within lots of unions in the 1940s. Certainly the threat of having a Labor Party is a way of prodding the Democrats to be more to the left, at least the Northern Democrats. The problem is, and we see that today more so maybe even than in the ’40s, is that we have this terrible, first-past-the-post, winner-take-all system. We don’t have a parliamentary system. That’s really undemocratic, and it makes it really difficult to form labor parties. If we had a parliamentary system, I think we definitely would’ve had a Labor Party, as you had in Great Britain.

But yes, I think independent political action was another avenue that CIO leadership failed to explore. Reuther toyed around with it for a while, but basically, they didn’t explore that. Why didn’t they? It’s complicated, but it was a failure of nerve to a degree.

Benjamin Y. Fong

Any last words about the historical importance of the CIO?

Nelson Lichtenstein

This is what I’d say to twenty-two-year-old people who work at Amazon, REI, Starbucks, or some place like that. Don’t think that the people who created the great CIO unions eighty years ago were supermen or superwomen, somehow imbued with sophisticated radicalism. They were identical to you. There was hesitation. There was sitting around. There was fear. Don’t just think that this was a land of giants.

The labor movement has always grown in spurts. Long years of frustration, and then a breakthrough. You never know when that breakthrough is going to happen, and you have to be prepared for it.

Socialism 2024, a Short Response to Joe Allen

 
 September 13, 2024
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Last week, we ran an article by Joe Allen on his experience at Socialism 2024, which took place over Labor Day weekend in Chicago, sponsored by Haymarket Books. Joe’s piece, which addressed “The Palestine Wave” at this year’s conference, was good but missed the mark.

He writes:

Diversity of opinions is not the issue, but the lack of a concrete perspective to lead the left is, especially when it comes to the Democratic Party.

I’m unsure precisely where Joe was, but we must have attended different conference sessions.

Several talks and discussions I sat in on, including Laura Flanders’s excellent live broadcast with Nick Estes, Rachel Herzing, and Hersha Waila on “How Can the Left Respond to this Moment,” directly addressed the election debacle. It was a packed room and a lively, positive discussion.

Throughout the conference, the overarching theme was the Democrat’s overt complicity in genocide and the efforts to organize for Palestinian liberation outside of the electoral arena (where, of course, is the only place it will happen).

Overall, that was the takeaway, at least for me — the genocide in Palestine won’t end in the voting booth this November, nor will it put a stop to settler-colonialism, white supremacy, climate change, or capitalism. As Noura Erakat affirmed during her fabulous talk, all modes of resistance when it comes to Palestine, from legal to direct action, matter.

My good friends Janene Yazzie and Ray Acheson echoed the same in our CounterPunch-sponsored panel on the need to “End Sacrifice Zones.”

Ultimately, my pal Joe’s gripe seems to be that the conference was not an ISO-sponsored weekend (like it was in the past) with a singular socialist perspective.

For nearly twenty five years, the Socialism conference was organized by the International Socialist Organization (ISO), and it took clear and concise positions on the crucial question before the U.S. Left, especially on the Democratic Party. That came to an abrupt end in 2019 with the collapse of the ISO. Many of the pre-2019 workshops are still available, here. If we can combine the best of what the Socialism conference today with that of the past, I think we can build a much stronger, clearer, and resilient left in the United States.

Personally, I am relieved the conference has shed its ISOisms. As a result, today’s Socialism Conference is much larger, more diverse, more spirited, and intellectually stimulating—at least from this outsider’s perspective (I was never an ISO member but attended many conferences).

The organizers this year must be commended. Never before have so many Indigenous folks been able to share their perspectives in these types of circles, and never before have I seen such solidarity for Palestine that wasn’t in the streets.

It was indeed a wave, as Joe put it.

That alone made the conference a unique, grounded, and vital congregating place for today’s left. (Did anyone shed a tear that Jacobin wasn’t there? Asking for a friend.)

Should Socialism 2024 have been a referendum on electoral politics and the failing, grotesque, blood-thirsty Democratic Party? I think, especially when it came to Israel’s onslaught in Palestine and how we can fight to stop it — it was.

Despite our various takeaways, we all agree that much more must be done. I hope the tremendous energy generated over those few days in Chicago can carry us arm-in-arm, in the spirit of resistance, through the tumultuous months ahead.

JOSHUA FRANK is the managing editor of CounterPunch and co-host of CounterPunch Radio. He is the author of the new book, Atomic Days: The Untold Story of the Most Toxic Place in America, published by Haymarket Books. He can be reached at joshua@counterpunch.org. You can troll him on Twitter @joshua__frank.