By Renfrey Clarke
MOSCOW — In Russian workplaces, the era of "social partnership" is ending. The period opening up will be one of sackings, lockouts and union-breaking, as bosses force workers to pay the costs of capitalist "reform".
At the AvtoVAZ complex in the city of Togliatti on the central Volga on September 27, about 2000 workers among more than 100,000 at the complex went on strike and shut down the central conveyor line, demanding payment of back wages.
The general situation at AvtoVAZ did not favour strike action, and the militants were quickly isolated. Several dozen workers identified as ringleaders were sacked. Almost the entire work force was locked out for a week. When production resumed on October 10, the resolution of the conflict was entirely on management's terms.
Though output at AvtoVAZ has fallen markedly in recent years, the enterprise is still solvent, and by Russian standards even prosperous. Average wages are more than twice those for the vehicle industry as a whole. Privatisation of the complex has benefited workers much less than senior managers, who exercise virtually all the rights of owners. Nevertheless, workers receive a small income from dividends on their collective shareholding.
The great majority of the workers at AvtoVAZ are organised by the "traditional" vehicle industry union affiliated to the Federation of Independent Trade Unions of Russia (FNPR). The enterprise committee of this union has continued to act much as it did during the Soviet era — as a social policy arm of management.
Combining forces with the AvtoVAZ directors to place pressure on the government, the "traditional" union has been able to win some concessions from Moscow, including increased protective tariffs. But as the economy continues to collapse, the possibilities of individual sectors securing their positions by lobbying the state are ebbing fast.
The concessions that can no longer be begged from the government, the managers have decided, must be wrung out of the work force. From early this year the screws have been on, as the bosses have sought to take back long-established benefits. The social development fund, providing leisure and education facilities for workers and their families, has been cut back. So too have production incentives.
Back wages
But the most spectacular victory the AvtoVAZ bosses have scored has been to convince the FNPR that before the workers are paid, they should first be made to lend their wages to the enterprise. Under an agreement reached early this year, wages are paid during the first 10 days of each month. However, the sums handed over are not for the month just concluded, but for the previous month.
Since wages here are often paid three or even four months late, the delay at AvtoVAZ may seem almost trivial. But many AvtoVAZ workers are convinced that the enterprise is not as poor as the bosses make out. At least one other major Russian vehicle manufacturer pays its workers on time. Government spokespeople complain frequently that in enterprises which have large unpaid debts, managers are concealing funds and lending them out, making fortunes through short-term speculation.
Discontent at AvtoVAZ has been reflected in the growth of the "alternative" labour union Yedinstvo ("Unity"). Yedinstvo has taken up battles which the "traditional" union has shunned.
On the afternoon of September 27, some 2000 workers on the main assembly line walked off the job demanding payment of their wages for August. Subsequently, the demand was raised for the release of full details of the salaries paid to senior management. Although the stoppage was evidently spontaneous, Yedinstvo leaders were invited to act as "consultants".
There is much that is puzzling about the decision to strike. AvtoVAZ had little reason to fear anything short of a lengthy stoppage. Plagued with non-payments by dealers, the enterprise was having to continue delivering cars because it lacked storage space. To a considerable degree, AvtoVAZ would not have received payment anyway for the production lost, and a halt to deliveries would give the firm a chance to discipline problem customers.
Outside of the assembly brigades, there was little support for striking. The danger that the militants would be hopelessly isolated quickly became a reality, as the "traditional" union bodies lined up alongside the bosses.
Union backs bosses
According to the Moscow Times, FNPR deputy chairperson Alexei Surikov called the strike a "provocation", and declared that the federation would not support it. The paper quoted Sergei Selivanov, deputy head of the FNPR union at AvtoVAZ, as accusing Yedinstvo of igniting pointless hostility between workers and management. "Any problem can be solved over the negotiating table", Selivanov reportedly said. "There is no need to set out to fight."
Then, with the workers split and sedated, the blow was struck. Key militants — reports have put the number as high as 42 — were sacked. On October 4 almost the entire work force was stood down for a week on two-thirds pay. The local prosecutor's office was called in to threaten legal reprisals against strikers.
The strike soon crumbled. On October 10 the main conveyor line started up again — minus the sacked militants. Wages continued to be paid more than a month in arrears.
The debacle has left the work force considerably weakened. Shocked by the bosses' onslaught, many workers at the complex have undoubtedly decided that resisting the dictates of management is futile, and that people who urge such action are recklessly endangering workers' livelihoods.
The AvtoVAZ bosses clearly sought to foster these views, and to spur recriminations and splits among employees. There is no doubt that many workers have accepted the line — pushed endlessly in the local media — that the loss of sorely needed wages was the fault of "irresponsible" militants who "forced" management to shut the plant down.
Yedinstvo has clearly taken a severe blow. The union cannot be accused of a lack of courage and determination. But if the strikers were indeed following the advice of the "alternative" union leaders, these leaders had a wretched grasp of tactics.
Any strike action needed to be preceded by an intensive campaign of pickets and section meetings. The central demand should have been for full disclosure of enterprise accounts, to show whether AvtoVAZ was indeed unable to pay wages on time. If the AvtoVAZ bosses refused to show that they were not crooks, the FNPR's insistence on subordinating workers' interests to management demands would have been much harder to uphold.
The mass union federation escaped being cornered. But for the FNPR as for Yedinstvo, the episode still ended in a severe defeat.
The "traditional" union bodies prostrated themselves before the bosses, condemning the strike and clearing the way for the victimisations. For this, they were rewarded not with "social partnership", but with a kick in the teeth felt by almost every worker in the complex.
Strike activity in Russia, though still limited, is showing a definite tendency to increase. But if further struggles are not to end in fiasco, both the political and tactical quality of labour leadership in Russia has to improve markedly. The forlorn hankering after "social partnership" must be replaced by a sober appreciation of the ruthlessness of the class adversary.