CHAPTER
9
Death of a
dream
It was a muggy August afternoon and the air conditioner in samant's room,
at his Ghatkopar office, was running on full power. I had spent most of
the morning discussing the strike with P.N. Samant and listening to him
laud the tremendous strength of the workers. It was well past lunch time
when we finally emerged from the over cooled cabin to the outer office
where the typists and other clerical staff of the union were seated. My
glasses fogged on contact with the heat in the outer room. Through the
mist I noticed a small group of workers tentatively hovering at the main
door of the barrack-like office. They had been waiting to catch a few words
with P.N. samant. The only woman in the group slowly approached dada and
haltingly made a plea for assistance. She wondered if perhaps the union
could get her an alternative job. The union, she had heard, was arranging
jobs for textile workers who were not taken back by the mills. The woman
had not quite finished stating her appeal when she was loudly interrupted
by dada. In an outburst that lasted above five minutes dada lashed out
at the woman for bothering the union office. There was a faint attempt
by the woman to explain how far she had travelled on her mission but she
was silenced by dada, who angriIy wagged his long index finger at her.
Only the mill committee of her unit could help her was essentially what
dada was saying. But it was not the content of his message which stunned
the poor woman. It was the harsh and arrogant manner. The woman was frail,
probably in her late fifties, and dressed in a worn-out cotton saree. When
dada's tirade ended she remained rooted to the spot where she stood -silent,
expressionless and obviously shocked. Dada who then walked off to have
lunch, was his affable self within seconds. Hadn't he been unnecessarily
harsh? I asked. It had to be done sometimes, he replied casually, otherwise
such people were continuously crowding the union office begging for help.
This incident was isolated only in the intensity of P.N.Samant's tirade.
But it illustrated how and why the workers had grown disillusioned with
the union. At the end of it all Doctor was still loved. But dada and the
union's methods of functioning had, for obvious reasons, inspired no loyalty.
At the same time this incident occurred, in August 1983, the strike was
past even its last death throes and dismembered dreams of the valiant lay
scattered around the battlefield. Belying all hopes of the optimists, the
weeks following the triumphant rally at Shivaji Park had marked a further
hardening of the stalemate -to the workers' disadvantage. Many activists
had believed that the historic, unprecedented feat of a strike of
2.3 lakh workers completing a year would bend the government. They
believed this even while their instinct quietly reminded them that past
experience had left no grounds for such optimism. With the inevitable inaction
of the government many of them began edging towards fatalism. The events
of the next few weeks conclusively destroyed all grounds for optimism and
deepened the fatalism. The determination and intensified organisational
efforts of a few activists were of no use when changes in the political
equation within Maharashtra led to a further hardening of the government's
position on the strike. The strike leaders had often laughed at the 'washed
out clown' (Babasaheb Bhosale) who sat in the Chief Minister's chair, but
his replacement by a veteran tactician ensured that they did not have the
last laugh.
By mid-January, Babasaheb Bhosale's crisis-plagued ministry was finally
shunted out and a successor was selected, in what A.R.Antulay called a
fraud if an election within the party. The party high command had decided
to put Vasantdada PatiI back in the Chief Ministers chair primarily to
control growing dissidence within the Maharashtra Congress(I). But he was
also expected to defuse controversial issues like the textile strike. Since
Vasantdada had, from the outset, been a committed hardliner his handling
of the strike was predictable. He was bound to use his power as Chief Minister
to strike the last nails into the coffin already prepared for the textile
workers' struggle. Stray efforts by some of Vasantdada's party colleagues
to salvage their position vis-a-vis the Bombay textile workers, continued
even after he assumed office. But the possibilIty of a breakthrough proved
to be a cruel mirage. The most crushing disappointment was the outcome
of the only publicly announced meeting between Samant and the Union Minister
of Commerce. Though the government had, from the outset, refused to negotiate
with Samant since his Union was not recognised and he led an illegal strike,
several ministers had privately met Samant for informal discussions throughout
the strike P.N.Samant claimed that over the entire strike period Pranab
Mukherjee himself met Samant about five times. Samant did not remember,
or chose not to disclose, the details of these meetings but he spoke of
Mukherjee as quite considerate, he accepted that the millowners were doing
illegal acts'. At these meetings Mukherjee gave Samant. the impression
that the government may scrap the BIR Act and accept a differential wage
structure for the various categories of mills. But for any concrete results
these secret meetings had to move to a public sphere. Samant had long awaited
an opening which would allow Mukherjee to disclose his views in public
and thus break the stalemate. The only publicly acknowledged meeting till
February 1983 had been the dinner with Bhosale, which had proved to be
a failure.
When Vishwanath Pratap Singh took over as Commerce Minister, in early
March 1983, and announced that he, was willing to talk with anyone to settle
the textile strike, Samant and his supporters viewed this as possible breakthrough.
Singh had recently won the admiration of people allover the country by
resigning as Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh after falling to control the
dacoit problem within a self-imposed deadline of one month. One such admirer
was P.N.Samant, dada, who had followed the personality and work of
Singh as Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh and identified him as a Congress(I)
man with a difference. Thus, when P.N.Samant read about Singh's offer in
the press, he sent a telegram to the new Commerce Minister taking him up
on his offer. Singh replied promptly. Samant was invited to meet the minister
in Delhi on the following Sunday. This message reached Samant on a Tuesday
and was soon released to the press, which interpreted the invitation as
a major breakthrough. The workers were overjoyed and saw in this an opportunity
to make an honourable compromise. The long, painful wait seemed to have
paid off. Samant was advised by the leading activists to accept a compromise
and not remain adamant on the demand for abolition of the BIR Act. Most
of the leading activists now accepted that the government would not concede
this demand, since even dissenters within the bureaucracy and political
hierarchy favoured, at best, an amendment. The most critical need of the
hour was to reach an agreement that would get the workers back inside the
mills.
But panicky millowners and an indignant Vasantdada Patil had other plans.
They flew to Delhi to convince the concerned ministers and the Prime Minister
that since the strike was already fizzling out it would be a fatal error
to make any concession at that stage. Singh was accordingly briefed by
Mrs. Gandhi to concede nothing. Thus, when Samant emerged from his
Sunday afternoon meeting with Singh he had little to say except that some
common ground had been found and details would be discussed when Singh
came to Bombay a week later. But Samant probably knew even then that the
dialogue would not be continued. The Chief Minister and MOA representatives,
who had air dashed to Delhi, had not wasted their time. When Ram Dulari
Sinha, Deputy Commerce Minister, came to Bombay instead of V.P.Singh a
week later many strike activists expected Samant to meet her and pursue
'negotiations'. instead Samant left town when Sinha was due to be in Bombay.
The workers were dismayed and disillusioned with this act of Samant. Most
of them did not know, and could not imagine, the strength of the hard-liners
in the government who had held the day when Samant met Singh. Ram Dulari
Sinha came to Bombay not to pursue Singh's efforts in resolving the textile
strike but to counter-act the effects of Samant's meeting with the Commerce
Minister. Her job was to ensure that the strike was fizzling out as Patil
it was.*
With this, the hopes and high-flying morale of mid-January slumped to
a new low of despair. Like mirage-weary desert travellers the workers began
to learn to live with the reality that neither the Union nor the State
Government had any intention of arranging a settlement. At first gradually
and then with increasing speed, they returned to the excruciatingly hot
boiler rooms and suffocating spinning rooms of the textile mills. The simple
men who once spoke of a bada kranti and nurtured a grand dream of freedom
from an unrepresentative, oppressive union, began to relive the night mare
in resentful, enforced humility.
After the V.P.Singh fiasco even the Union government once again reverted
to spouting the MOA line that a settlement was unnecessary since the strike
had, in effect, fizzled out. Even the toughest strike activists now accepted
that they were up against a wall they, could not vault and prepared to
surrender. In the uncertainty and insecurity that followed, the zone committees'
relations with Samant changed for the worse. After the meeting with V.P.Singh
many mill and area committee activists felt that an opportunity to make
a graceful exit from the battle, which they knew by then could not be won,
had been missed. FaIling to get an active response from Samant the area
committee activists formed a Central Committee in order to seek a compromise
resolution of the strike. But Samant's reaction to this was sharply negative.
Many an activist was chastened by, Samant and thus alienated from him.
"When there is no response from doctor for the Central Committee, why should
they stick their necks out?" asked one Central Committee activist who till
then had been a zealous Samant supporter;' "Without consulting us (Central
Committee) he announced that he would give jobs to 25,000 workers. And
when the activists couldn't do that (provide the jobs) the workers blamed
us."
_______________________________
* In terms of pure statistics the
general labour situation in Maharashtra was substantially 'better' in February
1983, as compared to the same time a year earlier. In 1982, 149 units had
been shut down due to strikes and lock-outs involving 2,41,581 workers
of which 2,19,348 workers were in Bombay -2,.12,547 of them belonging to
the textile mills. In February 1983 there were more units (168) shut down
due 10 strikes or lock-outs but the number of workers had fallen to 1,73,681;
of which 1,53,703 were in Bombay and 1,41,150 of whom were from textile
mills. (Statistics provided by Labour Commissioner's office.)
In the prevailing mood of deep pessimism the loss of the committees'
credibility weakened their hold over the rank and file. This further accelerated
the disintegration of the strike. At this juncture, when there was a need
for an action programme which involved the workers, Samant chose the Sangli
Assembly by-election as a major rallying Joint. Vasantdada Patil, a member
of Parliament at the time he became Chief Minister, was contesting the
Sangli Assembly seat vacated for him by his wife. All other opposition
parties backed out of the election because they considered it a waste of
time to fight Vasantdada in his own stronghold. But the MGKU and Lal Nishan
party decided to field a joint candidate. "After one year's clownish performance...
Barrister Babasaheb Bhosale was replaced by pragmatic Vasantdada Patil
as Chief Minister..." read a press statement issued jointly by Samant and
Yashwant Chavan. "As regards the 16-month-old strike, Vasantdada Patil
has personally and treacherously sabotaged the efforts made by the Central
Government through Union Commerce Minister V.P.Singh in initiating negotiations
with Dr. Datta Samant, for an honourable settlement and thus betrayed the
sons of the toiling peasants of Maharashtra working in Bombay mills...
instead of solving the problem he is imagining that the problem has solved
itself. But the working and toiling masses of Maharashtra must show this
arrogant satrap of capitalist policies, that issues of textile workers
have not become extinct and that none of the problems concerning common
people can be extinguished by suppression." With this brief they set out
for the Maratha's stronghold to campaign against him in the name of the
textile workers and the working class struggle.
The exercise had only notional value for the rank and file of textile
workers. Defeating Patil was virtually impossible and even Samant and Chavan
knew this. But unlike leaders of other opposition parties, they felt that
the election should be made an issue and PatiI should be given a run for
his money. And even that was not easily done. Though many textile workers
came from the outlying and backward areas of SangIi district, Patil's constituency
is in central Sangli city and excludes the working class suburbs. It was
therefore to the MGKU and Lal Nishan's credit that their candidate, backed
by the Dalits and left parties, posed enough of a challenge to PatiI for
him to get nervous. The Chief Minister' was reported to have camped in
the constituency for nearly a month, brought dozens of Ministers and M.L.As
to help his campaign and even exercised strong-arm tactics on the voters,
reported Gail Omvedt in the E.P.W.1 She also recorded how the ward and
village chiefs were warned that the areas not voting for Patil would get
no development funds. Muslim minorities were made to feel insecure and
thousands of saris were distributed to women voters. Instead of losing
his deposit, as Patil's camp predicted, Shantaram Patil (the Samaht-Lal
Nishan candidate) polled 15,000 votes to Patil's 53,000 votes. If we can
do so much in a rich constituency like Sangli which has been in Dada's
family pocket for decades, the whole Congress power is going to be rocketed
in 1985," said a jubilant activist.
But this euphoria was of no use to the majority of the textile workers
in Bombay, most of who were inside the mills and once again oppressed by
both the RMMS and the millowners. The disintegration was aided, and made
increasingly painful, when the left trade unions had begun telling the
workers to resume work in November-December 1982. The activists dismissed
this as a defeatist attitude and most workers agreed. But by March 1983,
the situation was different. The Naujawan Bharat Sabha (NBS), a group of
young activists with Naxalite affiliations, which had actively assisted
workers in fighting police cases and countering other forms of repression,
now challenged Samant's leadership and began actively encouraging workers
to return to the mills. Their rationale was that Samant had allowed the
strike to fizzle out, the battle was lost and there was nothing to be gamed
by letting the workers suffer indefinitely. NBS activists also noted that
the millowners were planning to use the strike to retrench about 70,000
workers and intensify the process of modernisation. The NBS claimed that
Samant was not giving serious thought to these issues. The NBS favoured
a damage-limiting, compromise agreement which may not secure the original
demands but would save jobs by preventing mass retrenchments.
As time passed, this argument appealed to more and more workers. Many,
like Prabhakar More and G.V.Chitnis, felt that a compromise settlement
ought to have been made when Bhosale offered to increase the advance money.
As Fernandes would say in late 1983: "When the minister announced
(in Parliament) Rs.30 interim relief -(Samant) could have accepted
that and done something... but then Samant would not be Samant and then
it would be just one more strike and he would be in a different situation."
Similarly, Chitnis was of the view that Samant had missed a major opportunity
to settle the strike when he faIled to follow up on S.M.Joshi's meeting
with the Prime Minister. Once the strike had extended to a full year, Chitnis
insisted that Samant had an obligation to intensify the struggle and find
a way out, which he failed to do. To those who shared this view-point the
failure and tragedy of the textile strike was entirely Samant's doing because
he refused to co-operate with other non-INTUC unions. Somnath Dube, who
was candid in his self-appraisal, held essentially the same view: "It is
not that we (TUJAC) were very united but our problem was that Samant would
not take us into confidence."
In the most extreme form such complaints stemmed from a blatant egotism.
Dange insisted that the story could have been different if he had been
active and able to participate. He had left the field open for Samant,
Dange said in late 1983, because he was not capable of physically putting
in the time and energy required to participate fully and he did not want
to play a bit role. Dange wanted the failure to be all Samant's. When asked
why such an old and carefully built tradition of communist unions among
the textile mills had declined, Dange said: "The answer would smack of
vanity, but the main reason is that I gave it up." But should an
institution, and at that a Marxist institution, be dependent on a single
individual? "That depends," movement, it won't tolerate (the person).
As long as I am alive my need will be felt. Thirty or forty main
leaders come here on holidays and for hours they sit arguing, shouting
at me, asking questions. At every crisis you will find such meetings
here. I have not cut myself off from them nor have they cut off themselves
from me. But I don't take responsibility that would be wrong because
I'd be inefficient and irregular..."
Dange's estimate of his own importance was not entirely unjustified
because while in retreat many an activist felt that things might have been
different had Dange been with them. Some even directly blamed the
Sarva Shramik Sangh for 'keeping doctor and Dange apart.' * While
the role of the Sharmik could be questioned at many levels and assessed
from different view-points, this particular allegation had little basis.
Given the highly individualised style of Samant and the ideological firmness
and personal ego of Dange any 'coming together' would have been temporary.
Such allegations largely surfaced in a period of deep despair, when the
workers found themselves engulfed by darkness. Many of them were
overwhelmed by a sense of insecurity and hopelessness. This was not
to change in the near future. To many who fought in the battle and
lay grievously wounded in body and spirit, it seemed as though the sun
should never rise again. Only those familiar with the cyclical patterns
of history knew that some day the sun would rise again bringing with it
fresh light and energy for the exhausted workers whose fiery militancy
had not been extinguished. Thus, even those compelled to return to the
mills remained loyal to Samant. When a morcha called by Samant on March
7, 1983, brought out mammoth crowds the State Government dismissed it as
the few live embers of a dying fire. But Samant continued to draw large
crowds throughout that year and into the next. The phenomenal turn-out
at the second anniversary morcha on January 18,1984, was evidence of this.
_______________________
* Dange also claimed that workers,
mostly his old loyalists, had wanted him to make a settlement but he refused
to play the role because, as he said he didn't want Samant to have the
excuse that the strike failed because of Dange's interference.
By June 1983 it was futile to deny that the strike had fizzled out.
After its unprecedented duration of 18 months the strike was effectively
over and most strike activists acknowledged this. The face of defeat was
ugly and tragic. This was evident from the state of K.P.Kamble, Lata's
fiery neighbour who had confidently predicted the coming of a bada kranti
,a year and a half earlier. After weeks of pressure from RMMS activists
and mill representatives, Kamble had finally gone to the mill where he
worked as a jobber for over a decade. Apart from addressing him in a humiliating
manner, the labour officer of the mill demanded that Kamble sign an undertaking
and pledge unquestioning obedience to the management and give an assurance
that he would never go on strike again. When Kamble hesitated he
was reminded by the mill officer that technically his services had already
been terminated. The mill had sent two notices threatening to retrench
him if he failed to quit the strike and resume duties. He was being taken
back as a favour, the labour officer stressed. Kamble knew better. The
mill had particularly been seeking' him out because, as a jobber, he commanded
the allegiance of at least 100 workers who were expected to follow him
back into the mill. The new recruits employed by the management were not
producing the required quality of cloth -and thus the need for old skilled
hands.* But at this stage Kamble, broken in sprit and overcome by
a sense of hopelessness, was compelled to ask his strike comrades: "How
does it make a difference if I am at home (and not at work)? If they (mill
owners) take my job away, will Samant get it back?"
So Kamble resumed work and began dealing with the bizarre ways of the
RMMS which had learnt no lessons from the strike. But no sooner had he
returned to the mill the MGKU activists began pressurising him to leave
-in the hope that these who had followed him inside would also once again
come out. A month after he entered the mill, Kamble was out again. But
now he was merely a statistic on the daily attendance registers. The humlilation
was unbearable for the once-proud Kamble: "I look at our condition' and
am sad. I never asked for money from anyone and now I have to ask..."
HiS voice trembled and there were tears in his eyes. Then he went on to
praise his brother, who worked in a fish market and gave him Rs.5 per day
to enable him to eat roti and chutney. As he wiped his eyes Kamble said:
"Starvation outside is better than slavery inside." Jobbers like him were
being made to do menial work, which was an unforgivable humiliation for
men of that standing in the labour hierarchy. Many permanent workers were
being taken back as badlis and some were given half the earlier wages.
But Kamble, and thousands like him, shortly returned to the mills once
again and this tIme they went to stay -for as long as the management would
keep them.
__________________________
*There were several reports, at
this stage, about cloth from ,the Bombay mills being rejected by cloth
merchants due to its poor quality.
Anger against Samant simultaneously reached new heights. The bada kranti
would have happened, Kamble said: "But (Samant's) union didn't give it
a chance and now the wind had gone out of it. The union was alway's peaceful
so that created an anticlimax. Samant never took fast and immediate action
and so the government got a chance to gear up. He should have given a call
to go to managers' homes and demonstrate. But, instead, there was a lack
of union support for those workers who were arrested by the police for
standing up and fighting. We could have blocked the major thorough fares
but when we were arrested by the police Samant would have said these are
riot my people... He has done a lot, but he failed to bring political pressure."
And yet, even while he was so acutely aware of Samant's failure as a political
tactician, Kamble remained loyal to his chosen leader. Kamble, like thousands
of other equally disillusioned workers, did not doubt Samant's integrity.
Leaders of Salaskar's stature attempted to contain disillusionment with
Samant by reminding workers that they had insisted on launching the strike.
Samant had wanted to just continue the strike in the eight mills that had
been closed since October 1981. Samant had wanted to fight the battle of
the remaining mills in court by challenging the RMMS and having it derecognised.*
"I am fire you'll be burnt," Samant had warned the first band of textile
workers who sought to make him their leader. The activists, however, never
regretted the decision to strike even when they were deeply disillusioned
with Samant's methods and inaction.
__________________________
* In retrospect even the Labour
Commissioner of Maharashtra, " P.J.Ovid, identified Samant's decision to
take all 60 mills on strike as his most crucial tactical error.
Yet, the government and millowners steadfastly clung to the belief that
the workers had been misled and misguided. In May 1983, Chief Minister
Vasantdada Patil called upon the MOA to adopt a 'forget and forgive' approach
to settle the strike because the workers had been 'misled' by Samant. Patil
took pains to point out that the millowners were not to be blamed for they
followed 'a legal path'. Samant, on the other hand, was a 'new type of
Hitler', according to Patil.
By June 1983 even the MGKU had effectively relented and decided that
workers who went back into the mills could no longer be described as 'black
legs'. Economic necessity was driving them back and samant had no more
promises to hold out. If the strike had been a test of samant's adamance
versus that of the government's, the latter had clearly won. Even samant
recognised this: Therefore the zone committees no longer exhorted
workers to stay out and quietly made a shift in strategy. Acting on the
premise that workers continued to remain loyal to samant and the cause
of their struggle, in spirit if not in deed, the union adopted the strategy
of unobtrusively organising workers inside the mills. Slowly, the zone
committees began holding secret meetings of 20 to 30 workers who had gone
back to the mills. By June 14, the MGKU brought its gradually evolving
strategy into the open at a meeting held at a small hall in Dadar.
In July, the union began a membership collection drive outside the mill
gates. At a meeting held in Prabhadevi, on July 9, the workers stood in
line to pay the membership fees of Re.1each. Out of the one lakh workers,
estimated by the MGKU to be inside the mills, about 70,000 paid this membership
fee, according to P.N.Samant. This naturally boosted Samant's position
at a time when the mainstream media was proclaiming the beginning of the
end of Samant's career as a trade union leader. But the workers were not
waiting in long ques to pay subscription to the MGKU because of any charisma
that Samant exuded. They were drawn to the MGKU because of the misery and
injustices they experienced inside the mills. RMMS functionaries, had resumed
their repressive role with a vengeance. Having already signed over 60 modernisation
and rationalisation agreements during the strike period, the RMMS also
aided the millowners to implement its scheme of large-scale retrenchments.
The affairs of the RMMS by this point passed into the hands of N.K.Bhatt,
President of the INTUC and a die-hard Indira Gandhi loyalist. Bhatt had
worked with the INTUC since 1947 and was then in his third term in the
Rajya Sabha. He began the operation of getting the RMMS back on its feet
by first ousting the existing leadership. He then issued press statements
protesting against the millowners taking advantage of the strike to retrench
workers without adequate benefits and compensation. While Hoshing and Bhosale
had remained reluctant to concede any fallings on their sides, Bhatt acknowledged
that the RMMS's inability to keep pace with the changing mood of the workers
had led to the strike situation. Bhatt said in an interview on February
4, 1984: "If Samant gave a wrong lead there should have been someone to
give a right lead. But Samant's style had not led to anything. Has
it benefitted anyone? Is it a method?" thus Bhatt visualised his job at
the RMMS as an opportunity to repair the damage done by Samant. Despite
their obvious failings Hoshing and Bhosale were unrepentent to the end
and relinquished office only after a combination of persuasion and pressure
exerted by Bhatt. With a new team of officials, led by Haribahau Naik a
new team of officials chalked out a programme to enforce discipline in
the union, build and train cadre, and prepare for fresh elections to the
union posts.
Yet, Bhatt, like Hoshing and Bhosale, remained aloof from the rank and
file. His contact with those the union was meant to represent was limited
to looking out of his office window and seeing groups of workers gathered
below. Thus, when questioned about the oppression and terror inflicted
upon the workers by his union functionaries, Bhatt had no answers. Questioned
about the modernisation and rationalisation agreements signed by the RMMS
during the strike, Bhatt said he was aware this had happened but had not
looked into the details. Bhatt's primary concern was to ensure that the
13 taken over mills were reopened and the workers of these mills got their
jobs back. His satisfaction with the process of resurrecting the RMMS was
derived from the swelling crowds at Mazdoor Manzil. "In mid-l983 not 10
people came here" said Bhatt, "Now they are getting services so they come
here in large numbers. It will take time to re-establish ourselves. I am
confident of my ideology and approach but it will take a year or so more."
H.S.Supal, who had spent 28 years working in the textile mills, was
among those who flocked to Mazdoor Manzil. He belonged to that category
of workers who had remained loyal to the RMMS and returned to work early
in the strike to become more assertive as the strike finally began to fizzle
out. A , former joint committee member of the RMMS, Supal was of the view
that strikes in the textile mills inevitably prove futile. "The BIR Act
does not allow strikes," he said simply. Supal criticised Samant's lack
of knowledge about textile mills and, unlike those on strike, firmly believed
that the industry could not afford to pay a higher wage. "The work (of
representing workers) can only be done by the RMMS even though there are
internal problems and faIlings. Now, Samant is in politics and he's stuck.
But the RMMS is not in politics and its attention is not divided. Look,
the RMMS has been here since 1946 many have come and gone but we have remained
the recognised union," said Supal confidently. The striking workers were
aware of this and disheartened by it. But this was not sufficient for them
to accept the RMMS rhetoric. Those who were being victimised told another
story.
Hira Daji was one victim whose tale was particularly ironical. Hirabai
and I met one morning on the steps of the Sarva Shramik Sangh office, on
the eve of Diwali in 1983. In one of the rooms inside, activists had been
talking about the mounting anger among the rank and file, and the RMMS's
forcible collection of pauti (union dues). Outside, the aged Hirabai, clutching
a sheaf of papers in one hand, was looking for help. A jobber, and veteran
textile worker, Hirabai had been thrown out of her job with 13 days wages
in lieu of notice, on false charges of dishonesty. Ironically, Hirabai
was a traditional RMMS supporter and had remained loyal throughout the
over a year-long strike. She even participated in strike-breaking efforts.
But there was no visible bitterness in the activists attitude towards Hirabai;
for her plight was a vindication of their stand, another illustration of
their just cause. It was also an indication of the important role they
continued to playas workers flocked to them. As one activist said in explaining
their rationale for helping Hirabai: "Now she's come to us and we still
want to show that we'll fight her case."
While the situation was ripe for a resurgence of militancy there was
also confusion and disillusionment in the ranks of the activists who had,
till then, stood united behind Samant. In their deepest moments of despair
some echoed the suspicion of left trade unions, that Doctor remained loyal
to Mrs. Gandhi-and had thus shied away from a frontal attack against her
government. By the middle of September a segment of the Central Committee
seriously contemplated forming a delegation to approach opposition trade
union leaders and seek their help in resolving the dispute with millowners.
The delegation, consisting of some zone committee leaders, planned to meet
Samant with the same request: If he did not respond favourably, the delegation
planned to hold a press conference to state their position and call upon
other trade union leaders to make a united effort to resolve the strike.
Despite all the disillusionment, organisers of the proposed delegation
insisted that they were not abandoning Samant. They were only responding
to the need to include other leaders, apart from Samant.
This move was greatly influenced by the fact that those activists who
had once scorned TUJAC, now believed that if they had worked to make TUJAC
a more effective weapon, the strike may have presented a more formidable
challenge to the government. In this context Samant's highly personalised
style of functioning and P.N.Samant's arrogant, abrasive manner came in
for severe attack from the Central Committee members. "In a union that's
a family affair this is bound to happen," workers remarked sarcastically.
The process of disenchantment, as mentioned earlier, had begun with the
formation of the Central Committee and Samant's antagonism towards it.
G.S.Gajarmal, an active Central Committee member, found himself accused
by Samant of confusing the strike effort and suspected of working for the
red flag unions. Gajarmal concluded after receiving a tongue lashing from
Samant: "Doctor is happy so long as we activists stay disunited. So long
as we are stray individuals and activists around him and not an organised
force it means he doesn't have to do anything (by way of drastic action
to resolve the strike)."
That the strike had been, first and foremost, the workers' own struggle
was still a matter of great, pride for the activists. When stressing this
the activists said that they had only accepted the temporary leadership
of Samant. Some were even confident of keeping the MGKU alive without Samant.
When the strike had begun Samant could do little wrong in their eyes. At
the end, there was little that the much-flawed leader seemed to do right.
The fact that Samant had continued to negotiate and make arrangements with
the millowners in their other (non-textile) units was viewed as having
worked against the strike effort. Matters came to a head in late September
1983 at a meeting organised by the Central Committee activists to discuss
and resolve these issues. Samant's presence was essential and he had agreed
to attend.
But after waiting for five hours the workers dispersed -Samant had failed
to come. The MGKU officials who finally came to the meeting in place of
Samant explained the Doctor was detained by the BEST workers. But this
only further disenchanted the activists. Months after Ramanuj Upadhyaya,
a Vice-President of the MGKU, recalled the "separate meeting held by some
activists of the Central Committee -they could not properly explain what
they wanted. They were not satisfied with Samant's methods, they wanted
violent methods and different action..."
Meanwhile, the Congress(1) had begun the process of rebuilding its power
in the city with its M.L.As and Municipal Corporators trying to make their
presence felt through 'mutton shibirs', among other things. 'Mutton shibirs'
was a sarcastic reference by Samant supporters to the Congress(I) M.L.A.
Bhau rao Patil's one-day 'camps' for youth. where the main attraction for
participants was the mutton served with lunch. These shibirs were part
of Patil's attempt to cultivate support and regain lost ground from the
ruins of the textile strike. But the Congress(I) hierarchy had formulated
a strategy to counter the negative effects of the strike, at a larger level.
On the eve of the All India Congress Committee [AICC-I) session in Bombay,
in October 1983, the results of this strategy were just beginning to take
shape in the early hours of October 19, 1983, officials of the National
Textile Corporation (NTC), together with local police officials, knocked
on the doors of 13 private textile mills to implement the union government's
decision to take over the managements of these mills. President Glani Zail
Singh had signed the take-over ordinance late on 18th night. One of the
most interesting side lights of and telling commentaries on this action
came from the response of a Deputy Commissioner of Police in Bombay. As
the NTC officials were swooping down on the mills, this Deputy Commissioner
called Samant to inform him of the take-over and suggest that perhaps the
union leader would now call off the black flag demonstration intended to
greet the Prime Minister as she arrived in the city the following morning.
Whether the official was acting of his own accord or had been instructed
from above is immaterial. The timing of the takeover and its purpose was
obvious all, and this official had only acted on cue. But as Samant told
the official, his demands were not limited to the take-over of l3 mills
-the black flags would fly high.
By late October Samant also had a larger purpose than the textile strIke
to preoccupy him and determine the direction of his thoughts and action.
The 'Kamgar Aghadi' which he had announced at the January 18 anniversary
rally was in the process of cutting its teeth and showing promise. The
process of revitalising the demoralised workers had begun. At that stage
Samant defined the Kamgar Aghadi as a pressure group to alter the government's
anti-labour attitude and acts. After an over six month lull, since its
announcement, the Aghadi became functional in July when MGKU officials
addressed meetings in various municipal wards to urge slum dwellers and
workers to join the party. After September the main strike activists were
given specific tasks and posts within the Aghadi. These actions were based
on the assumption that the Municipal Corporation elections would take place
on schedule, in February. This enthused the activists and escalated the
pace of work.
By January 1984, the zone committees of the textile strike had been
converted into 'ward committees' of the Kamgar Aghadi. As one of those
who had undergone trial by fire in the post-strike months, Gajarmal was
among the best placed to describe the Spirit of the Aghadi. From being
a deeply disappointed man in April and a bitter antagonist of Samant in
September, Gajarmal had returned to being a supporter of Samant in January
1984. On January 18 that year, he said: "All workers with faith in Kamgar
Aghadi are active in the ward committees. Now the attention (no longer
being limited to the strike) IS on other issues like pavement dwellers,
dilapidated houses, water, sewage and other such concerns. Workers are
doing work in their areas, they have left their old affiliations behind.
We (activists) explain to workers that in all other parties there is 'bossism'.
Here it is your own initiative come forward and work." Recalling the days
when some had contemplated calling the opposition leadership to settle
the strike Gajarmal said: "We changed our minds because we decided that
so long as workers still support Samant there is no point in publicly opposing
him. It would have further divided us. Now it is better that we didn't
because we have reorganised under Samant, and textile workers are leaders
in the Kamgar Aghadi."
The Aghadi thus succeeded in meeting the MGKU's aim -that of giving
the workers a direction and preventing them from repeatedly making futile
trips to Ghatkopar office asking for jobs and money. Samant, in spite of
the hundreds of industrial units under his control, had provided alternative
employment to only a handful. The union, however, claimed at the end to
have provided jobs to 5,000 victimised textile workers.
But the development of the Kamgar Aghadi and changes within the cadre
of textile worker activists were taking place in the context of a crisis-plagued
industry. Apart from losses incurred during the strike due to payment of
standing dues, the costs of most production components had increased over
the 18 month period of the strike. At the same time the cloth markets remained
stagnant as the recession deepened. The production process" was also hampered
by the fact that many workers had not returned to their original mills
long after the strike had fizzled out and production chains remained incomplete
due to the displacement of skilled staff.
This did not stop the mill managements from taking a stiff stand with
the returning 'errant' workers. In most mills the workers were made to
sign productivity agreements, which increased their work load by 15% or
more. These 'agreements', which were actually undertakings, also extracted
promises of 'good behaviour' and obedience to all the management's dictates,
falling which the workers were liable to lose their jobs without due process.
Thousands of workers who retired or resigned were even denied gratuity
and other benefits. Apart from such voluntary withdrawals there were largescale
retrenchments, undertaken even by the NTC mills.
Just how much of an empty gesture the take over of 13 mills had been
was evident from subsequent developments. Four months after the take-over,
only five of the 13 mills were working. And more importantly, only about
16,000 of the 36,000 workers in those 13 mills had regained their jobs.
After announcing the take-over, and widely projecting it as a magnanimous
favour to the embattled workers, the NTC effectively did nothing to assist
the workers not taken back into the mills. The policy makers' attention
was, by then, almost entirely focussed on the ill-health of the industry.
The bureaucracy was holding forth promises of financial aid for modernisation
and other measures to revive the sagging fortunes of the textile mills.2
.
Large-scale rationalisation was a gift of the strike to millowners.
They took advantage of this to initiate schemes for inodernisation. Before
these schemes could be implemented all resorces had to be devoted to restore
the mills to full working order. Concern for the fate of the 'illegal strikers'
had no place in this climate. And the climate was hostile to textile workers
allover the country. The RMMS estimated that in 19&2-83, about 10%
to 15% of the country's textile workers had been rendered jobless. The
millowners merely said that the industry could do no better in the face
of an ever deepening recession.*
Apart from frequent promises about reviving production in the taken
over mills, the government had nothing to offer the workers who suffered
due to the sagging fortunes of the industry. Since the millowners, especially
in Bombay, were able to retrench workers with impunity, they were not concerned
about the residual support Samant still enjoyed in the mills. This support
meant little
because it came mainly from the 20% o badli workers who had not been
taken back by the 'mills and had remained with Samant largely because they
had no other options. The workers of the taken over mills, who were not
allowed to resume duty even after the NTC took charge, were also depending
on Samant. But, understandably, an edual number of workers were also
depending on the RMMS.
________________________
* In Bombay, at the end of December
1983, the off-take of cloth remained poor even on reduced prices. As stocks
continued to pile up, it further worsened the liquidity problem of the
mills. A Central Advisory Council on textiles was set up at the end of
November 1983 to look into this and other problems.
The RMMS had the institutional machinery and the legal standing to press
for, at least, full operation of the 13 taken over mills to ensure that
most of the original workers got their jobs back. Few people, at this stage,
seemed concerned about the fact that every issue for which the battle had
been waged, remained unresolved and new problems had arisen. As one mill
executive said simply: "There is no violence at the mill gates and in the
by-lanes, so where is the problem?" Some, like the ever-zealous R.L.N.Vijaynagar,
believed that the growing frustration of the 'have-nots' (as he insisted
on referring to the workers) would peak and erupt in dangerous ways. But
he still firmly believed that the workers had been misled and taken for
a ride by Samant. Vijaynagar's perception of the situation was necessarily
dominated by the ill-conceived nature of the labour laws and the government's
vacillation on labour issues. There was no understanding, even after two
years of upheaval, of structural defects in the industrial relations machinery
which created the situation. By February 1983, the strike was relegated
to the rear recesses of Vijaynagar's memory. He was busy pouring over law
books and helping the MOA lawyers fight the case challenging the take-over
of 13 mills.
Geographically, psychologically and socially isolated from the 'have-nots'
who so concerned him, Vijaynagar and those of his ilk had no conception
of what happened to the thousands who just dropped out, or had been forced
out of the system. Those mill executives who had a sense of noblesse oblige,
talked sadly of the many workers who had turned to daily hamali*, or were
selling vegetables on the foot- paths. Others would notice that the cobbler
or fruit vendor on the pavement outside the mill looked familiar and vaguely
recall that he was once a skilled textile worker. While the more sensitive
among them perceived the misery of earning a daily wage in this uncertain
manner, there were also those who saw these alternative occupations as
proof that all had weathered the storm with reasonable success. Said the
technical director of one mill: "If we were working to full capacity and
needed the total number of workers -they wouldn't be there. They have found
other jobs even if the wages are less than 50% of what they got in the
mill." There were few exceptions among this elite set who recognized that
the majority of millowners were aloof from the workers and their misery
and acknowledged this to be a dangerous tendency. "How many years can they
do this (deal with workers) on an ad hoc basis. Some wondered aloud.
At the same time, the only promise the leader they once hero-worshipped
now held out to the textile workers was that the Kamgar Aghadi would some
day be a great party of the working class. By January 18, 1984 the Aghadi
had 15 offices all over Bombay. A few weeks earlier samant's supporters
had swept to victory in the elections of the credit co-operatives in the
textile mills. This gave further credence to samant's claim that he still
commanded the workers' loyalty. But confirmed hard-liners of the establishment,
like Bhatt, were unimpressed. Said Bhatt: "The Kamgar Aghadi is a political
platform Samant has taken for himself, nothing more. I am not in a position
to say whether workers are still with him (Samant)." But such criticism
did not concern Samant. Neither did he appear disturbed by the departure
of workers in other units once controlled by him. In many of these cases,
workers abandoned Samant to make independent settlements with managements.
Samant boosted his image as a trade union leader on the strength of agreements
like the one at Premier Automobiles, where workers got a Rs.700(per month)
increase in January 1983. (That this was gained at the cost of agreeing
to more than double the earlier work load, was not highlighted by Samant.)
However, amid the deep despair which dominated the post-strike period,
Samant 'relied on the forthcoming Bombay Municipal Corporation (BMC) elections
to serve as a rallying point for his followers. Success in the municipal
elections Samant believed, would place the Kamgar Aghadi on the political
map of Maharashtra.
________________________
* Hamali is manual labour
and in Bombay it most often refers the pulling of handcarts, unloading
of trucks in the wholesale markets, etc.
When the State Government opted to supersede the BMC instead of holding
local elections, Samant quickly claimed that this was a result of the government's
fear that the Aghadi would have swept to victory in the elections. There
was more than just a tinge of false bravado in such statements. In the
absence of an election in the near future the Aghadi lost its central focus
and also much of its momentum. The rank and file of textile workers, as
peripheral participants in the Aghadi, were only marginally affected by
such developments. But the drop in the Aghadi's momentum further deepened
their pessimism. They felt even more oppressed by the all-pervasive power
of the forces which controlled their destiny. Was victory in the greatest
struggle they had ever known, to be defined as winning a few seats in the
Murucipal Corporation election? It was then that the revolutionary fervour
of yesterday seemed an illusion - a dream that could never be a reality.
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