THE LIMITS OF SOCIAL UNIONISM IN CANADA

THE LIMITS OF SOCIAL UNIONISM IN CANADA

Jeff Shantz

Significant attention has been given to social unionism in Canada as an alternative form of unionism whichcan combine successful bargaining with community-based action for broader, even radical, social change.Supposedly representing an engaged, socially rooted activist union movement which might revitalize thelabor movement as a whole, social unionism is said to provide the basis to return unions to the center of socialchange and progressive political action in Canada. There is even expectation that social unions will play aleading role in the foundation of a militant left resistance. Unfortunately, the reality is that social unionismhas not been anything, even approximating a militant force or change or community defense during thedecades-long neoliberal period of capitalist development. In certain unfortunate instances, social unionleaders have chosen to condemn the community groups that have put up a militant resistance, even going sofar as to discipline their own rank-and-file members who have organized flying squads to support working-class community struggles more broadly. The fundamental limits of social unionism in Canada are relatedto three main problems: a hierarchical and conciliatory bargaining model for action; electoralism andcommitment to social democratic pressure politics through boycotts, symbolic protests, and political lobbying,especially through the New Democratic Party, and more recently even the procapitalist Liberal Party; anda charitable approach to community groups coupled with a paternalistic relation with social movements.

Much has been made of social unionism in Canada as an alternative form ofunionism which can combine successful bargaining with community-based actionfor broader, even radical, social change. Unions such as the Canadian AutoWorkers (CAW) and the Canadian Union of Public Employees (CUPE), the mainchampions of social unionism in Canada, claim to reject business unionism, withits strict focus on wages and benefits, in favor of an approach that “is sensitive tobroader concerns, and that contribute[s] to those in need in the community andinternationally” (Gindin 1995, 266). Notably, the CAW is the largest privatesector union in Canada, while CUPE is the largest union in the country. Propo-nents of social unionism can point to real gains, including Paid Education Leave(PEL, an employer-paid education program for workers), reducing overtime toget new workers in for shifts, equity improvements, work refusals over race, andsexual harassment (Kumar and Schenk 2006; Schenk and Bernard 1992).

Some commentators herald social unionism as an alternative model thatshows the future of an engaged, socially rooted activist union movementwhich might revitalize the labor movement as a whole (see Ross 2007; Roth1997). These commentators distinguish between business union locals which,dominated by conservative leaders, contribute to the crisis of working-class

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self-organization and social unions which make unions part of struggles forsocial justice (Heron 1996). Social unionism supposedly provides the basis toreturn unions to the center of social change and progressive political action inCanada. There is much expectation that social unions will play a leading role inthe foundation of a militant left in Canada (Levant 2003).

Unfortunately, social unionism has not met the expectations many have forits role as a revitalizing force in the labor movement in Canada. In the face ofmassive ongoing social attacks on poor people, immigrants and refugees, unem-ployed workers, women, seniors and children, and indeed unionized workers,the union movement in Canada has offered little effective response. Socialunionism has not been anything, even approximating a militant force or changeor community defense during the decades-long neoliberal period of capitalistdevelopment (Butovsky and Smith 2007). Instead social union leaders have toooften remained immobile in the face of “this human tragedy” of neoliberalismwithout being ale to grasp even “who exactly is organizing it” (Hargrove 1998,74–5). In certain unfortunate instances, they have chosen to condemn the com-munity groups that have put up a real fight to stop the tragedy from happening,as when the CAW publicly pulled their support from the Ontario CoalitionAgainst Poverty (OCAP).

The fundamental limits of social unionism in Canada are related to threemain problems: a hierarchical and conciliatory bargaining model for action;electoralism and commitment to social democratic pressure politics throughboycotts, symbolic protests, and political lobbying, especially through the NewDemocratic Party (NDP), and more recently even the procapitalist LiberalParty; and a charitable approach to community groups coupled with a paternal-istic relation with social movements.

I should point out that, in what follows, I have nothing but the utmostrespect for the rank-and-file members who have struggled, and continue tostruggle, often in the face of stiff resistance, to build movements that areengaged in truly grassroots social struggles based in mutual solidarity and mili-tant resistance to the bosses and the state. I discuss some of these efforts to builda solidarity unionism that rejects the hierarchy and authoritarianism of businessunionism. This is no outsider’s perspective. I grew up in CAW (UAW) Local444, a flagship of social unionism in Canada and the local that Buzz Hargrovecame out of. I have been a rank-and-file CUPE member for a decade or so,during which time I helped to found my local’s Anti-Poverty Working Group, adirect action group dedicated to defending nonmembers as well as members.

Roots in Barren Soil: Canadian Social Unionism andthe Legacy of Reutherism

To properly understand social unionism in Canada, it is helpful to look at itsroots. Some claim that social unionism in Canada is fundamentally rooted inmore democratic and participatory structures and visions than are found in U.S.unions (see Heron 1996; Roth 1997). Indeed this is an explanation given to

114 WORKINGUSA: THE JOURNAL OF LABOR AND SOCIETY

account for not only social union practices but also for the CAW break from theUAW (Heron 1996).

In reality, however, Canadian social unionism is explicitly based in theReutherism of the postwar UAW. CAW national leader Buzz Hargrove suggeststhat the CAW’s social unionism was learned at the feet of Walther Reuther,whom Hargrove describes as “the most progressive union leader in NorthAmerica” (Hargrove 1998, 68). For many rank-and-file UAW militants withwhom I have spoken, people who were active prior to Reuther’s election andthrough his tenure as leader, the impression is much different.

Reuther ruled the roost at the UAW as national president from 1946 untilhis death in 1970. Reuther came to national prominence during WWII with hisplan for industry-wide conversion of auto plants to war production. Uponassuming power, Reuther fired staff members and the head of the legal depart-ment, all of whose loyalty to Reuther was deemed to be in question. With staffbrought under his control, Reuther set about purging the UAW of communistmembers and other militants, who had formed his opposition from the time ofhis first election, from the union bureaucracy.

His attack did not simply target communists but came down against pro-gressive militants of various stripes. Throughout his rule, Reuther “reinforcedthe red-baiting that was seething in American society and used it to isolate boththe left and many of those who refused to ‘choose sides’ and denounce commu-nists” (Gindin 1995, 120). In this he was ruthless, leading witch hunts through-out the union and even the Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO),“playing an active role in expelling unions which had democratically chosen toretain its left leadership” (Gindin 1995, 121). Reuther’s campaign went beyondan attempt to stamp out the left and constituted effort to achieve a total destruc-tion of all opposition (Gindin 1995).

By eliminating radical opposition and forming broad cross-class alliances,including liberal members of the ruling class, Reuther was able to foreclosemilitance within the UAW while making the union palatable to conservativeAmerica. The social unionism of Reuther consisted of company-paid healthprotection for members and their families, income protection policies forlayoffs, pension benefits, and some increased paid time off. This approach,pursued through Reuther’s lobbying rather than a mobilized rank-and-file, hadrather serious consequences. Eventually, “the union drifted towards establishinga ‘parallel (or private) welfare state’ for its members through collective bargain-ing. As a result, autoworkers, having met their own needs, became less and lessinterested in joining others to fight for universal programs” (Gindin 1995, 124).

Reuther directed a shift away from questions of workers’ control toward anemphasis on workers as consumers. The reasons for this related to his liberalview of capitalist society and his strenuous anticommunism. Union focus onmanagement control of working conditions “would inherently shift power to thelocals, while Reuther was trying to centralize the union” (Gindin 1995, 119).Furthermore, “a focus on increasing workers’ purchasing power and benefits wasa less radical demand since, unlike an emphasis on management rights, it didn’t

115SHANTZ: LIMITS OF SOCIAL UNIONISM

challenge property rights” (Gindin 1995, 120). The emphasis was on makinggains within the system. This approach had other benefits for Reuther as “thisstrategy could even be articulated as a progressive weapon in the cold war: themost effective way to undercut communist arguments was to show that Americadelivered on its promises of greater benefits for all” (Gindin 1995, 120). Thus,Reuther satisfied management’s greatest concern, keeping production free fromworkers’ interference, while simultaneously putting workers’ resources in theservice of ruling class cold war ideologies.

Thus, this social unionism, rather than being a holdout against the ravagesof business unionism which had so demobilized the labor movement, played acrucial part in destroying the militance of labor. As with other forms of businessunionism, it “brought out the worst in the membership and undermined theability of the union to later carry out progressive work at its base” (Gindin 1995,121).

Reuther’s version of social unionism was carried into the Canadian sectionof the UAW, prior to the CAW breakaway, “challenging us to think about ourresponsibility to the poor, to ponder the inequitable situation of women workers,to consider the plight of workers of colour, and to show respect for the com-munities in which we lived” (Hargrove 1998, 68). The main assembly hall at theCAW’s Port Elgin Family Education Centre, a union-education facility thatserves as a central example of social union progressivism for social union pro-ponents, is named the Reuther Family Building.

The basic characteristics of Reuther’s social unionism are evident insocial unionism in Canada: seeking electoral “new deals” for workers and theircommunities, a top-down bargaining approach that foregoes struggles overworkplace control and a limiting of independent rank-and-file movements.Consistent with Reutherism, all of this is carried out in the context of bureau-cratic management of the union to make “gains within the system.” As will beshown, rank-and-file militants are still viewed with a great deal of suspicion andconcern. While the heavy-handed crackdown on the left is not as apparent, thisis largely because in the current context of demobilization it does not yet haveto be.

“Dialogue Is the Mechanism”: Social Unions Seek a Seat at theElectoral Table

Social unionism has also meant “as Reuther preached in the United States,that our members should look at politics as an extension of unionism” (Hargrove1998, 69). Social union leaders still maintain that there is a natural alliancebetween trade unionism and democratic socialism (Butovsky and Smith 2007;Ross 2007). A fundamental position of social unionism remains the belief thatunions, through support for the NDP, can get someone at the political table towork in their interests (Heron 1996). In the first decade of the twenty-firstcentury, the CAW has even shifted support to the Liberal Party, one of the twomain ruling class parties in Canada.


The major part of social union political activity in Canada has consisted ofputting union resources into support for the New Democrats. The sizeableoutlay of union resources includes labor for campaigning and canvassing, mil-lions of dollars in donations, and contributions to NDP propaganda work. Socialunionists are encouraged to take on roles as political activists in the NDP. Theyplay a key role in mobilizing support between elections. These efforts, however,have rarely translated into large-scale membership votes for the NDP.

So what have the social unions received as a result of this effort? Socialunionists across the country were ecstatic with the election of the NDP provin-cially in Ontario in 1990. Their exclamation “At long last the halls of power atQueen’s Park would be open to working people” (Hargrove 1998, 136) provedto be entirely illusory of course. In Ontario, NDP policies included tearing openpublic sector collective agreements and imposing a dozen unpaid days off as wellas such mean spirited initiatives as a welfare snitch line. The party cut welfarewhile providing subsidies to businesses for “retraining.” It called for unioncompromises with management, concessions, and wage cuts while raising taxesfor seniors and cutting taxes for business.

In fact, when the NDP was elected in Ontario, the social unions advised theNDP not to do too much too soon for fear that it would “polarize the province.”In the view of the social unions, “moving too quickly and without properconsultation could actually be detrimental to labour’s cause” (Hargrove 1998,140). Indeed, the social unions were concerned to “show the business commu-nity that the NDP respected formal democratic processes” (Hargrove 1998,140). This would supposedly allow the NDP to avoid being accused of“ramming through pro-labour laws.”

In February 1993, at a meeting of the NDP top cabinet members and variouslabour leaders, Judy Darcy, national president of CUPE, brought up the idea ofa “social contract” that would allow for wage restraints on public service workersin exchange for some promise of job protection. Thus, one of the NDP’s mostdespised pieces of antilabor legislation, which tore open collective agreementsand imposed wage concessions, was recommended by the president of the largestsocial union in Canada, and the union that “represented” public service workers.

Bill 48 made the social contract a reality and stripped public sector unions oftheir bargaining rights. Wage rollbacks occurred through twelve compulsoryunpaid days off, called contemptuously “Rae Days” by workers in honor of NDPPremier Bob Rae, for each worker for three years.

In the face of this planned attack by the NDP, the other major social union,the CAW, only took the position that the concessions not be imposed unilater-ally. The union should be allowed to bargain the cuts with management. TheCAW leadership was even willing to forgive the NDP’s other actions if theyagreed to bargain public sector wage cuts. As Hargrove comments, “We don’tcare what’s in it, so long as it’s bargained . . . That’s a system we in the CAW canalways live with” (Hargrove 1998, 158).

The social union opposition to the social contract consisted of a pressconference to warn the NDP that there would be trouble if existing collective


agreements were overridden by a legislated settlement. The “trouble” ended upbeing a “withdrawal” of support for the NDP. No strikes, no general strike wereplanned. They would simply not endorse the government. They did not evenleave the party; they merely reduced funding to the base level required tomaintain membership. A commitment was made to work with social movementsto put pressure on the government.

This all points out the longstanding lie in Canadian labor politics that it wasthe business unions and their faithful commitment to the NDP that preventedany real mobilization against the NDP attacks on working people. It also showsvividly the deadliness of social union dependence on alliances with social democ-racy. Similar experiences have occurred under discredited and corrupt NDPgovernments in British Columbia and Saskatchewan.

Support for the NDP was maintained even as the party avoided seekingsocial union views on policy issues. The CAW offered the party a list of policyreforms that were disregarded by the party. Among the social union reformsuggestions were asking provincial and municipal governments to pressure thefederal government for expanded infrastructure spending, an incentive programfor small business, and incredibly a “Buy Canadian” strategy for the provincialgovernment. They also put forward suggestions for an Ontario DevelopmentBond, advertised as a “war bond,” to “rebuild the provincial economy” by askingworking people “to invest in their own and their children’s future” (Hargrove1998, 145).

When the membership demanded that the CAW reconsider its affiliationwith the NDP in 1998, the CAW national executive board, Hargrove’s assis-tants, and area directors debated the relationship with the NDP and decided tocontinue its affiliation. No member decision or participation in the decisive“think-tank session.” The reason given was that remaining in the NDP wasnecessary to ensure a strong, progressive voice representing Canadian workers.

Social union leaders in Canada still bemoan the lack of influence they haveon any level of government. More fatally, they hold out hope for a future daywhen they will exercise such influence, usually in the form of an election of theNDP to office. Unfortunately, this is a sad and dangerous fantasy. As, at best, aliberal reform party, the NDP in power, wherever it has been in power, has beena friend of capital. More recently, in the face of NDP retreats and Tory attacks,the CAW’s commitment to finding the “parties that best represent labour” hasled to absurd calls to vote for the ruling class Liberal Party in Ontario.

Throughout decades of attacks on poor and working people, extended by theneoliberal Tory government that succeeded the NDP in 1995, social unions stillhold out some hope for constructive dialogue with governments, no matter howreactionary. “Dialogue . . . is the mechanism that provides the opportunity forprogress. . . . Unless we can encourage dialogue in the political arena, our hopefor social change are flimsy” (Hargrove 1998, 168). For social union leaders,dialogue “supported by well-informed membership” and preparedness tobargain for gains is “the first line of defence for labour” (Hargrove 1998, 169).The second line of defense is influencing governments (Butovsky and Smith


2007). They refuse to recognize that the Keynesian compromise is over and hasbeen for years.

The primary political activities have included lobbying, rallies, and demon-strations geared toward “making a point” and gaining “legislative advances.”More often they have foregone any advances and been satisfied with trying toavoid serious setbacks in legislation. Social unions have still not learned thelesson, made clearly by activist organizations, that it is impossible to shameneoliberal governments because when it comes to attacking working-class com-munities, they have no shame.

The Days of Action, one-day, city-by-city mass strikes to protest the Tories,showed the preference for political protest, mostly legal and orderly, gearedtoward gaining media attention and “keeping the Harris government honest andaccountable” (Hargrove 1998, 180), which it never was. There was no emphasison fighting with an eye toward making it impossible for the government toimplement its agenda. In describing the Toronto Day of Action, Hargroveproclaims “We all had one thing in common: we wanted to get a message to theHarris government. That day we did” (Hargrove 1998, 197). So strong was the“message” that the Tories continued unabated for another seven years asworking-class communities were devastated. Harris made it very clear thatsymbolic protests had no impact on him when he famously stated, in response tothe Days of Action, “I don’t do demonstrations.”

The social unions expected consultation from the capitalist attack dogs inthe Tory government and were disappointed when none was forthcoming. Thesocial unions maintained this sense of disbelief throughout eight years of Toryrule. The CAW even signed a joint letter with over sixty corporate heads simplyasking for consultation with the Premier before any legislative changes wereimplemented. They long hoped and believed that the dialogue would happen,completely misreading and misunderstanding the intentions and character ofneoliberal governments, as they had misread the social democrats.

Such social union approaches help to render the control of governments bycorporations a surprise. Social unions, like other business unions, defer to legal“protection” in contracts and political assistance from parties for social issues(Ross 2007). They are so respectful of legal “protections” and parliamentarysolutions that they are loathe to take any action that might lower their standingbefore the state.

Nowhere is there a sense that the one-third of the workforce that is currentlyunionized in Canada is, along with their allies, not only a force to pressure thegovernment, but a force that, if mobilized for militant action, could win its owndemands while making it impossible for the bosses and government to imple-ment their “tragic” policies.

Of course this implies also that workers, self-organized, might improve theirlot through their own activities rather than expecting such improvements fromthe government and their “progressive” social movement leadership. This getsat the heart of social unions’ limitations. Like leaders of other business unions,social union leaders are concerned to constrain and direct the efforts of union


members in a way that maintains the authority of the leadership (Ross, 2008). Asrank-and-file workers, we have to recognize that our real power lies elsewherethan parliamentary appeals made on our behalf by leadership, no matter howprogressive it might be.

What the Leadership Giveth?: Bargaining for Social Change

Rank-and-file mobilization is impeded within social unions by their com-mitment, like other business unions, to a hierarchical, leadership-driven struc-ture which privileges a grievance and bargaining approach to issues, both in theworkplace and socially (Ross, 2008). The bargaining approach breeds a concil-iatory and compromising approach to political economic issues (“But to pretendthat your way is the only way, particularly at the bargaining table, is sheerstubbornness”; Hargrove 1998, 23).

A former CAW economist suggests, the strength of the CAW is located inthe structures for collective discussions and development of responses. He thengoes on to identify those structures as “the strong locals and the locally rootedexecutive board, the extended education and training for activists, and a tightlyknit staff” (Gindin 1995, 252). Thus, social union leaders still view unionsprimarily as the leadership and staff of the organization; as “the duly electedbargaining agent” (Hargrove 1998, 27). Members are still viewed as peoplethe union (as something other than the workers) must build solidarity with(Hargrove 1998, 55).

The union’s central office plays a principal role in collective bargainingreinforcing “the president’s direct involvement in major negotiating rounds”(Gindin 1995, 265). With the growth of the union through amalgamation, “thisheavy dependence on the president” was not sustainable. The solution to thiswas, of course, that “others in top leadership positions would have to develop theconfidence and authority to take over more of those duties” (Gindin 1995, 266).

Social unions still view their primary task as bargaining, which keeps theemphasis on leadership (Butovsky and Smith 2007; Ross, 2008). Bargaining,within most social unions, remains a hierarchical and exclusionary processinvolving leadership (national staff, local presidents, bargaining committees).When that fails, there can still be personal meetings between the local presidentand the boss (Bronski 2007). Hargrove (1998, 118) has even described personalcommunication with the boss as the “most effective weapon in our arsenal.” Thisclose communication has included public proclamations of “partnerships,” suchas the one signed by the CAW with auto parts giant Magna International in2007, a pact that included no-strike pledges from the union (Bronski 2007;Keenan 2007).

Like other business unions, social unions rely heavily on paid staff,appointed to do bargaining, grievance arbitration, and even community liaisonwork. The bargaining committee does the work and leaders work things out overdinner with the bosses and politicians over dinner at exclusive restaurants (seeHargrove 1998, 24 if you think I am exaggerating). Members are left simply to


“ratify the terms and conditions of any collective agreement we negotiate ontheir behalf” (Hargrove 1998, 31).

Gindin (1998, 271) suggests that “the union must balance the internaldemocratic process with effectiveness in democratizing corporate power in theworkplace and in society.” This means that even social unions must “be suffi-ciently centralized to balance the centralized power of the other side, yet decen-tralized enough to permit local initiative and mobilization” (Gindin 1995, 276).Bureaucratization is only a risk if centralization reaches an “overwhelminglevel.”

Even the process by which Hargrove handpicked his successor, Ken Lewenzaof Local 444, was elected President of the CAW National on September 6, 2008,was criticized by members as largely undemocratic and weighed against alterna-tive candidates. This assessment was based on the great disparity in resources andsupport available to Lewenza in comparison to his would-be opponents.

Social struggles are viewed as a subordinate adjunct to bargaining, whichagain, primarily applies pressure in support of negotiates carried out principallyby leadership. Bargaining for social justice issues is a limited approach whichundermines the real power that workers have which is the power to run pro-duction and organize distribution and social services without bosses or govern-ments. Leaving that aside, however, it is crucial to point out that social unions,like any other business union, hamstring even the power of workers to withdrawservices by prohibiting strikes during the duration of a collective agreement, bydenying solidarity strikes. Strikes remain confined to bargaining issues ratherthan being elements of community or social defense (Kumar and Schenk 2006).Prohibitions against wildcat strikes are included within contracts, thereby givingaway one of the greatest tools that workers have. As already noted, prohibitionsagainst all strikes have recently become part of the CAW repertoire (Bronski2007; Keenan 2007). Hargrove (1998, 109) succinctly puts the fears leadershipholds for wildcats when he states: “As energizing as a wildcat strike might be forworkers, it is the kiss of death at the bargaining table.”

The CAW does a good job of getting members into education courses at thePort Elgin Centre or through university labor studies programs. More CAWmembers take these courses than for all other unions combined. This is to becommended and indeed more such opportunities should be available forworkers. Even social union education work, however, has been geared towardpreparing a new generation of leadership. “The ultimate purpose of the PEL isto build leadership skills” (Hargrove 1998, 130). The program is designed tocontribute the background for using and developing “bargaining and contractadministration skills” (Gindin 1995, 188). Students are chosen to attend thecourses by a committee that includes representatives from the local and theeducation department.

Community activities, as well as workplace efforts, are still staff- orleadership-driven. “Social activism . . . whether collecting for the United Wayor fundraising for a community beautification project,” that is, “all union staffwork” (Hargrove 1998, 127).


When CAW staff went on strike against the union, however, leadership usedits claims to being a social movement against the strikers. Claiming the CAWwas a “political organization” leadership tried to guilt staff about shutting downa “social movement” and preventing it from fighting for members, their familiesand communities. This is the same guilt tactic used by manipulative NGOs likeGreenpeace Canada when their workers have been on picket lines.

Of course what the leadership giveth, the leadership can also taketh away.Thanks to the efforts of rank-and file members, CUPE established a legaldefense fund to support members arrested during political actions. Unfortu-nately, once members started getting arrested at demonstrations, the leadershipcanceled the fund for being too costly.

Business Unionism Plus Charity

Rather than solidarity for self-determination and autonomy, social unionismpursues a paternal charity approach to community involvement (Manchee 2006).Instead of viewing community allies, fellow workers or neighbors, social unionleadership suggests that “we have to recognize that there are people in oursociety who are different and who must be treated in a way that helps make theirlives easier” (Hargrove 1998, 47–8). This approach underlies social union“thinking about how we in the CAW must deal with people with disabilities,with workers of colour, with Aboriginal people, with gays and lesbians, withwomen” (Hargrove 1998, 48).

Social unionists describe their efforts as agitating for social change as wellas wages and benefits. For the most part, however, the view that unions owea big debt to communities translates into successful United Way campaigns(Manchee 2006). “The CAW has always backed up its demands that govern-ments and corporations do more for the less fortunate by asking our membersto support charitable organizations. In many communities, our union setsnational records for United Way contributions” (Hargrove 1998, 128). Thishas happened, in fact, even as the United Way has continued to fund programsusing workfare placements. In this way, workers’ resources are taken out oftheir hands and turned over to an organization, one that is not opposed in anyway to capitalist relations of exploitation, that beyond deciding where to putthe money is noted for a bloated bureaucracy that eats up much of the fundson its own administration.

Too often, whether assisting community groups or activist organizations,contributions are viewed in terms of donations, which are, of course, welcomeassistance for groups dealing with often miniscule budgets. This money is notgiven freely however. In response to negative reactions to Hargrove’s actionsduring a Day of Action demonstration Hargrove proclaimed: “So what if one ortwo of our coalition partners complain afterwards. My response would be: ‘Thenext time you spend thousands of dollars and a lot of your members’ time, as theCAW did, to get 200,000 people at a street rally, then maybe I’ll be quiet”(Hargrove 1998, 198).


A stark example of how this, which can play out against the interests ofworking-class movements and communities, is revealed in the CAW treatmentof OCAP. OCAP has been at the forefront of resistance to the neoliberal formof capitalism in Canada. OCAP members, including rank-and-file unionists,Mohawk Warriors, unemployed workers, homeless people, teachers, and stu-dents, have long put forward a coordinated effort to fight governments andemployers with an eye toward winning substantial material victories for poorpeople against governments, of all stripes, and bosses. The range of actionswhich they undertake are not symbolic acts designed to make a point (or shamea government which has no shame). OCAP actions, including economic andpolitical disruption, are acts of working-class unity and autonomy aimed atmaking it impossible for the government and its corporate backers to carrythrough their agenda.

On June 12, 2001, fifty or so OCAP members, activists, students, andrank-and-file workers of the CAW and United Food and Commercial Workersflying squads held a “mock eviction” at the constituency office of Tory ProvincialFinance Minister Jim Flaherty. Flaherty was a central figure in pushing the hardedge of the Conservatives neoliberal agenda. As Labour Minister, it was Flahertywho brought in legislation making it more difficult to organize service workersand easier for employers to interfere with organizing drives. During his time asAttorney General, he drafted the brutal law making it illegal to panhandle orsqueegee in Ontario.

While the Left in Canada has been almost universal in its condemnation ofpolice attacks on OCAP, there was one unexpectedly loud voice of sympathyfor Flaherty and his party after the eviction: the CAW National Executive.President Hargrove was quoted in the right-wing, and OCAP-hating, TorontoSun as saying:

I do not support the Harris government (Tories) and I don’t support any of thelegislation they have passed since they were elected. But I sure support their rightto do that. They were elected by the people. I don’t have to agree with them, butI sure respect our democratic system, unlike a whole lot of people in political lifetoday who don’t respect it. ( June 14, 2001: 15, emphasis added)

Hargrove went on to say that the CAW, at the time OCAP’s major funder, wouldconsider pulling its financial support. Apparently not satisfied that his theantiworking-class government was sufficiently reassured, Hargrove agreed tomeet personally with current Labour Minister Chris Stockwell to confirm thatthe CAW would indeed pull its funding as Stockwell had publicly requested.This while OCAP members, including organizer John Clarke, were still lan-guishing in jail having been denied bail. Even more, Chris Stockwell, by the way,was the official who drafted the legislation that changed the legal workweek inOntario from forty-four to sixty hours and allows companies to opt out of theEmployment Standards Act (overtime, health and safety, minimum wage) if theycan prove that it impedes their “global competitiveness.” Sitting down with


Stockwell to discuss internal CAW matters and OCAP was viewed by many asnothing short of a betrayal of not only CAW members, but also of workingpeople across the province.

The other major plank of CAW social unionism is its Social Justice Fund, aregistered charity that “donated about $1 million a year to worthy causes”(Hargrove 1998, 132). Some of the important projects supported includeremoval of landmines (for which the CAW was the only Canadian organizationto donate money), refugee assistance in Rwanda and money for education inpostapartheid South Africa. There was support for co-op and nonprofit housingand improved community services, clean-ups, youth activities, shelters, and foodbanks. Thus, what I present in the aforementioned is in no way intended as adismissal of these and other significant and often-important contributions madeby the CAW and CUPE. Indeed, more unions should follow this lead and makesimilar contributions.

Rather the point is that something beyond social unionism must mean morethan financial donations. It must certainly mean more than third-party chari-table donations to organizations such as the United Way. Instead, it must includerank-and-file autonomy and freedom to mobilize militant support for commu-nity struggles, even, or especially, where these struggles go beyond what theleadership is prepared to engage in. It must also mean a commitment to realfights against employers and governments in terms that are deemed necessary bythe people engaged in those struggles in order to win what they need, not simplyto register dissent, protest or raise awareness.

Beyond Social Unionism

The real measure of social unionism rests in its response to rank-and-filemovements and initiatives. In this regard, the record has been sketchy at best.

During demonstration against the Free Trade Area of the Americas inQuebec City in 2001, CAW and CUPE members literally had to fight unionmarshals to get to the fence to join direct actions. The leadership had arrangeda rally in a field away from the sites of demonstrations and police attacks.Afterward, rank-and-file members demanded direct action training. Morerecently, flying squads have been recruited to act as marshals at rallies anddemonstrations, a clear violation of their purpose.

Indeed the recent struggles over the formation and development of flyingsquads within social unions have been rather suggestive, both of the possibili-ties and promise of contemporary organizing and the limits of social unionstructures.

Much interest and discussion has been generated recently by the emergenceof union flying squads in Ontario. Flying squads—rapid response networks ofworkers that can be mobilized for strike support, demonstrations, direct actionand working-class defense of immigrants, poor people, unemployed workers—present a potentially significant development in revitalizing organized laboractivism and rank-and-file militancy.


Here are organizations with rank-and-file participation working to buildsolidarity across unions and locals and alongside community groups, engaging indirect action while striving to democratize their own unions. No wonder thenthat the reappearance of flying squads in Ontario, in a context of halting resis-tance to a vicious neoliberal attack, notably among some sectors of the labormovement, has been cause for much excitement. At the same time the strugglesover the makeup and control or direction of flying squads has reflected strugglesbetween rank-and-file members and social union bureaucracies more generally.

The flying squad is a rapid response group of members who are ready tomobilize on short notice to provide direct support for pickets or actions. It mayor may not be a recognized body of the local. The flying squad structure mayconsist of little more than phone lists and meetings but, significantly, shouldmaintain its autonomy from the local and national union executives. Generally,flying squads should be open only to rank-and-file members as they must be freeto initiate and take actions that the leadership may not approve of. Some flyingsquads refuse even a budget line item so that they are in no way dependent uponleadership. In Canada, flying squads have offered crucial support to directactions around immigration defense, tenant protection, squatters’ rights, andwelfare support by mobilizing sizeable numbers of unionists who are preparedfor actions without regard to legality. Flying squads take direct action to inter-fere with bosses’ abilities to make profits. Not limited in their scope of action byspecific collective agreements or workplaces, flying squads mobilize for commu-nity as well as workplace defense.

Working groups are generally recognized bodies that are established to dealwith specific areas of need. They step beyond the limitations of traditionalunionism to assist both members and nonmembers. Rank-and-file and commu-nity alliances offer one example of how to make the connections which arecrucial to developing militant working-class solidarity. They can bring anticapi-talist activists, community members, and unionists together to work on a day-to-day basis. Again, autonomy of membership and decision making within theworking groups are crucial.

Rank-and-file committees and flying squads can become important parts ofstruggles over a broad spectrum of issues affecting working-class communitylife, including those which the mainstream unions ignore such as housing andunemployment. They can offer spaces for building bridges between workers,across unions and industries, and between union and community groups.Autonomous from traditional union structures and organized around militantnonhierarchical practices, rank-and-file working groups and flying squads canprovide real opposition to conservatism within the unions as well. They providea better approach than the more common model of the “left caucus,” which triesto reform union policy, usually, again, through resolutions at conventions(Clarke 2002). The rank-and-file committees actively and directly challenge theleadership within their own locals and across locals.

My union, CUPE 3903, inspired by the CAW flying squads and the directaction movements against capitalist globalization, formed a flying squad three


years ago to support OCAP’s direct action casework around immigrationdefense and welfare support as well strike solidarity and organizing directactions within mass anticapitalist demonstrations. The flying squad is currentlymade up of more than eighty members who are ready to mobilize on shortnotice to provide direct support for pickets or actions. Significantly, the flyingsquad maintains its autonomy from the union executive, refusing even abudget line item. 3903 has already made it known that it is willing to do directaction training and to hold workshops on forming and developing flyingsquads.

Flying squads were developed to provide opportunities for organized col-lective action that was autonomous from union bureaucracies and not con-strained by considerations of legality. The flying squads, which were initiatedwithin the CAW but have grown in other unions including CUPE, were begunas primarily rank-and-file bodies to do strike solidarity work and to support theOCAP direct action casework, including actions at welfare and immigrationoffices (see Shantz 2005). Over a few years, the flying squads had spreadthroughout the province as victories grew and as word spread in and acrossworkplaces. Workers chafing under conservative leadership in their locals turnedto flying squads as a way to meet their needs directly and as a way for progressiveand militant workers to overcome isolation in home locals and build allianceswith other militants, inside and outside of their unions.

So it is not surprising that sooner or later the National would turn on them.While flying squads were mobilizing to take part in the Ontario Common Front(OCF) campaign of economic disruption in 2001, the CAW national executiveordered that any future flying-squad actions must be approved by the Nationalor by the local President. The National effectively reined in the flying squadsand played a major part in demobilizing the OCF campaigns in crucial cities likeWindsor (Canada’s major link in the NAFTA “superhighway” and a main autocenter).

At this point, it seems that the CAW bureaucracy’s clampdown on the flyingsquads is complete. At a panel discussion on creative tactics that I took part ina recent Labor Notes conference, Michelle Dubiel, a CAW “Ontario Chapter”flying squad representative, stated with great satisfaction that marshals hadfinally been instituted in the CAW flying squads. Dubiel noted that there hadbeen much discussion and some resistance to this but happily concluded thatmembers were eventually brought to see the necessity of marshals.

Hierarchical and undemocratic practices are deeply connected with demo-bilization of membership. Social unions, with their tough rhetoric and concil-iatory reality, have played into this apathy by feeding the sense of powerlessnessand insecurity, by avoiding direct confrontations with the bosses and by disci-plining workers and poor people who stand up and fight. They do it also byreining in or, indeed, shutting down democratic and autonomous rank-and-filetendencies in the locals. They undermine equality by maintaining leader and ledstructures. All of this has played into the demobilization and demoralization thatdeepened after the Days of Action were revealed to be a bluff.


These are merely first steps in a long process of building rank-and-fileopposition. They are initiatives for working-class self-activity that should not belimited to being a democratic complement to the bureaucracy. We need to thinkbeyond this to see something more in the emergence and growth of autonomousrank-and-file networks. The need to build a resistance that includes rank-and-file unionists, nonorganized workers, nonstatus workers, and migrants is critical.

Too often the measure of labor involvement in coalitions in Ontario hasbeen the amount of money given to a campaign, the forcefulness of rhetoricfrom high profile leaders, or the winning of a motion at this or that convention.The only way that any sort of credible resistance movement is going to be forgedin Ontario, however, is through a redoubling of efforts to make connectionsbetween grassroots community groups and rank-and-file workers—the sameworkers who, in the Canadian Auto Workers, for example, openly condemnedtheir leadership for not going to the fence in Quebec City against the Free TradeArea of the Americas (FTAA) and who demanded direct action training afterQuebec. We should also be ready to provide picket support, help build flyingsquads or industrial unions among unorganized workers, as the IndustrialWorkers of the World have done among squeegee workers in Vancouver andinvolve ourselves in the creation of joint union-community antiracism andantipoverty working groups. We must play an active part in building trulyrank-and-file flying squads and working groups whether we are in a union, inunorganized workplaces, or unemployed.

Conclusion

Social union leaders tend to defer struggle to some time in the future. Theyspeak of a time when growing anger and frustration would lead increasingnumbers to form coalitions and demonstrate in support of economic and socialjustice even as those movements are forming before their very eyes.

Over the last few years there has been some tension within the OntarioFederation of Labour, which is roughly played out between social unions andmore conservative unions. In reality, the debate is not that large and shows thegenerally limited nature of labor politics right now. Conservative unions seekonly bargaining and electoralism while avoiding activist politics of any but themost symbolic sort. Social unions also focus on legal and symbolic routes gearedtoward media recognition and public condemnation of the government of theday. Neither conservative nor social unions are organizing a serious, materialchallenge to the government and their corporate bosses. Hargrove is right aboutone thing: “one of the reasons the CAW [and other social unions] seems out-spoken, standing alone on many public policy issues, is that many parts of themovement, such as the Ontario Federation of Labour, no longer play a mean-ingful role” (Hargrove 1998, 200).

In the face of neoliberal capitalism and the withdrawal of the welfare state,the social union leadership are left dumbfounded. They hold to the view thatunder the welfare state workers actually controlled the political agenda.


Hargrove asks: “How did working people yield the only democratic poweravailable to them the right to cast their ballots and expect that life for theirfamilies would, as a consequence, get better, not worse?” (Hargrove 1998, 206).

This question contains two major assumptions underlying social unionism.First, that the only “democratic power” available to workers is the ballot andsecond, that the vote can actually be counted on to improve people’s lives. Whenthe NDP showed the second assumption to be painfully false, the first assump-tion posed a roadblock to organizing any effective action to gain what workersneed (as opposed to what they can get from governments).

Social unionism may be all that can be expected of top-down, leadership-managed social unionism. The criticism leveled by one social unionist at theNDP can equally be applied to social unionism in Canada: “Relative to theenormous task at hand . . . the politics being offered is meek and narrow”(Gindin 1995, 270). Something more will have to come from rank-and-filemovements and truly alternative organizations (Butovsky and Smith 2007).

These initiatives are already present. They are exemplified in the efforts ofCAW members to go through union marshals to get to the frontlines in QuebecCity. Some of these same members confronted the leadership at Port Elgin toforcefully demand direct action training to better prepare themselves for futureactions. They are exemplified also by the courageous CAW members whofought, in the face of direct threats, to develop the flying squads on a rank-and-file basis. They are also present in the CUPE 3903 flying squad and rank-and-file committees that put workers’ bodies on the line to fight alongsidecommunity allies to wage real battles against governments and the bosses.

Anarchists and syndicalists must put our efforts into supporting members inthese efforts. Within our own unions we must work to develop rank-and-filemovements rather than wasting time trying to replace leadership or reformunion structures.

Jeff Shantz is a longtime rank-and-file union and antipoverty organizer. He hasbeen active in his union’s flying squad and helped to found the local’s antipov-erty working group. He currently teaches human rights and community advo-cacy at Kwantlen Polytechnic University in Vancouver, British Columbia,Canada. His present research is on labor and worker self activity. His organizingwork includes organizing against the Olympic Games scheduled for Vancouverand Whistler in 2010. Address Correspondence to Jeff Shantz, 126-7790 KingGeorge Highway, Surrey, British Columbia, V3W 5Y4, Canada. Telephone:011-788-565-3036. Email: [email protected]

References

Bronski, C. 2007. Canadian Auto Workers Union ‘Partners’ with Magna International. World Socialist WebSite. http://www.wsws.org/articles/2007/oct2007/mag-o20.shtml (accessed October 20, 2007).

Butovsky, J., and M. E. G. Smith. 2007. Beyond Social Unionism: Farm workers in Ontario and some lessonsfrom labour history. Labour/Le Travail 59:69–98.


Clarke, J. 2002. Fighting to win. Toronto: OCAP.Gindin, S. 1995. The Canadian auto workers. Toronto: Lorimer.Hargrove, B. 1998. Labour of love: The Fightto create a more humane Canada. Toronto: M.W. and R.Heron, C. 1996. The Canadian Labour Movement A Short History. Toronto: Lorimer.Keenan, G. 2007. Magna-CAW no-strike deal. Globe and Mail, October 16.Kumar, P., and C. Schenk. 2006. Paths to union renewal: Canadian experiences. Peterborough: Broadview.Levant, A. 2003. Flying squads and the crisis of workers’ self-organization. New Socialist 39:20–2.Manchee, J. 2006. Unions and the united way: From charity to change. Our Times, April/May: 27–35.Ross, S. 2007. Varieties of Social Unionism: Towards a framework for comparison. Just Labour 11:16–34.Roth, R. 1997. The Canadian auto workers and paid education leave: Social Unionism in practice. http://

tortoise.oise.utoronto.ca/~rroth/1131.htm (accessed October 10, 2006).Schenk, C., and E. Bernard. 1992. Social Unionism: Labor as a political force. Social Policy 23(1):38–46.Shantz, J. A. 2005. No one is illegal: Organizing beyond left nationalism in fortress North America. Socialism

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THE LIMITS OF SOCIAL UNIONISM IN CANADA