‘The practice anticipates our reflections’ – radical unions in Poland

Introduction

Union density in Poland is one of the lowest in the Central and Eastern European (CEE) countries, estimated at 11 per cent in 2014 (Mrozowicki, 2014; Felksiak, 2015) compared to the average union density of 38 per cent during 1984–1989 (Gardawski et al., 2012: 51). Union membership has decreased, with some fluctuations, since the systemic transition of 1989. The coverage of collective agreements has also decreased from 25 per cent of those in employment in 2000 to 14.7 per cent in 2013 (Visser, 2016). The most recent data show that membership of the largest nationwide union, NSZZ Solidarność, has shrunk to just 4 per cent of the labour force (Stachowski, 2014; Felksiak, 2015).

The level of strikes in recent years in Poland indicates that labour mobilisation and militancy is relatively low. Two massive waves of strikes took place in Poland after 1989: the first in the early 1990s, with a peak in 1993 of 6362 strikes with 730,000 strikers, and the second at the beginning of the second half of 2000s with a peak in 2008 of 12,765 strikes and 209,000 strikers (Gardawski et al., 2012). Since the culmination of the second wave, strike activity has been subdued. In 2013, for example, there were 93 strikes involving 29,263 strikers and in 2014 only three strikes with 848 strikers (GUS, 2015). Concurrently, however, the number of demonstrations and street protests rose from about 1500 protests in 2009/2010 to about 2500 in 2012 (Urbański, 2014: 190). At the time of writing (2016), several mass anti-government demonstrations have taken place against the Prawo i Sprawiedliwość (PiS, right-wing conservative ruling party Law and Justice) that were larger than any demonstrations since 1989.

Although neither union membership nor strikes and demonstrations point to the radicalisation of workers, the contradictory trends of decreasing union density and industrial conflicts and the increasing number of demonstrations could indicate a shift in the ways social struggles are organised in the context of the overall weakness of union-led mobilisation. Thus, if Tarrow’s (1998) concept of the cycle of contention is considered (Upchurch and Mathers, 2011: 6), it could be argued that either current circumstances constitute a moment of strong state repression against labour mobilisation and unionism, or, in a moment of state facilitation intended to soothe social moods, sustain the status quo and social peace. Assuming that we are still in a phase of the crisis of traditional trade unionism (Connolly et al., 2014), which concerns both the west and the east of Europe, it is necessary to look for the alternatives or, if they are not yet present, to imagine them. Hence, the question of the role of radical unions, which could bring such alternatives, is central.

This article argues that, even in a context in which social movement unionism is generally weak (Ost, 2005), alternatives could rely on the strategies, tools and tactics derived from radical political unions. The case of Poland is explored as a country in which the traditions of radical working class mobilisation used to be relatively strong in the 1980s, illustrated by the activities of NSZZ Solidarność, but the major trade unions shifted to more moderate and sometimes pro-market strategies after the system change in 1989.

The first section briefly describes the development of mainstream, traditional unionism in Poland and identifies the answers emerging from within this form of unionism to decreasing union membership in the context of its political and labour market surrounding. Building on such a point of reference, the body of the article analyses two cases of small, but radical, alternative trade unions in Poland: Ogólnopolski Pracowniczy Związek Zawodowy Konfederacja Pracy (KP, All-Poland Workers’ Trade Union Confederation of Labour) and Ogólnopolski Związek Zawodowy Inicjatywa Pracownicza (IP, All-Poland Trade Union Workers’ Initiative). Attention is directed towards the strategies, tactics and tools of these unions, particularly those related to union organising in a context hostile to labour, and an assessment of their transformative effects on traditional unionism in the country. The two case studies are based on data collected in 2010–2016, including four interviews with three representatives of OPZZ KP and four representatives of OZZ IP, as well as analysis of trade union documents and most recent campaigns.

The weaknesses of traditional trade unionism

Drawing from the concepts of radical political unionism (Upchurch and Mathers, 2011) and social movement unionism (Seidman, 1994; Scipes, 2014), radical unionism can be defined by the position of trade unions towards both capital and the state in the wider context of a globalised economy driven by neoliberal politics. ² Although there are some patterns of union renewal or radicalisation across east and west Europe (Connolly et al., 2014; Czarzasty and Mrozowicki, 2014), the long-lasting crisis of traditional unionism forced mainstream unions to ‘retreat into forms of accommodative “business unionism”, which later re-emerged within the identity of “partnership’’’ (Upchurch et al., 2014: 34). Thus, traditional trade unions’ recognition of the class interest of their members and their position against employers was weakened while the political meaning of union demands and their alternative visions of the future were diluted. The narrowed scope of political thinking and action towards the state resulted in a union focus on the issues of social dialogue and partnership, even if conditions for the latter were increasingly absent.

This general argument also corresponds to developments in Poland. Three main union confederations, constituting the mainstays of what can be termed ‘traditional’ or ‘mainstream’ unionism in Poland, include NSZZ Solidarność, Ogólnopolskie Porozumienie Związków Zawodowych (OPZZ, All-Poland Alliance of Trade Unions) and Forum Związków Zawodowych (FZZ, Trade Unions Forum). Their combined (self-declared) membership amounted to some 1.8 million members in 2011, while the membership in non-affiliated trade unions was estimated to be between 100,000 and 300,000 (Gardawski et al., 2012). While the institutions of the tripartite and sectoral social dialogue have never been very strong in the country (Ost, 2011), the eight years of government led by the coalition of the Polish People’s Party (PSL) and the Civil Platform (PO) in 2007–2015 further solidified the ‘illusory’ nature of Polish corporatism, marked by the continuous tendency of the government to bypass and avoid tripartite negotiations. At the sectoral level, collective agreements are very rare due to the fragmentation of both unions and employer organisations, the lack of a supportive legal framework and the unwillingness of employers to bargain collectively at the supra-company level. Even though tripartite institutions were reformed in 2015, when the new Rada Dialogu Społecznego (Social Dialogue Council) was created to replace the Trójstronna Komisja ds. Społeczno-Gospodarczych (Tripartite Commission for Social and Economic Affairs), there are a number of barriers that constrain the bargaining power and development of traditional trade unionism in Poland.

Although there has been a shift in the attitude of the leaders of mainstream unions away from support of restructuring, privatisation and market reforms (in the early 1990s) towards a greater scepticism about the benefits of capitalism, the long-term effects of the socialisation to social dialogue and their institutional anchoring in the Polish political system constrain their mobilisation capacities. OPZZ and NSZZ Solidarność officially distanced themselves from political parties in early 2000s and the FZZ was established as an ‘apolitical’ union confederation. NSZZ Solidarność, however, found it more difficult to break its links with right-wing political parties. In the last electoral campaign, it embraced the right-wing conservative party PiS, trading its support in return for the promise of pro-labour reforms. Although PiS won the election in October 2015, the pace of changes in labour law proved to be slow while it favoured the interests of larger trade unions. ³

The consequences of long-term close relations between mainstream trade unions and political parties, as well as the neoliberal mantra repeated in the public discourse for the past two decades, are still echoed in social consciousness and practice. It is especially visible within the younger generation of workers who, in general, are reluctant to join unions and have little knowledge of the activities and possibilities they create. Despite some generational changes within unions (Krzywdziński, 2010), the average age of trade union members in 2014 was 44 years whereas a non-unionised worker was on average five years younger (Feliksiak, 2014: 2). As revealed in the qualitative research with young precarious workers in Poland (Desperak, 2010; Mrozowicki et al., 2015), they do not perceive themselves as a social class and they tend to see the unions as unnecessary for a successful career or as hierarchical and bureaucratic structures that are too petrified to include young people working in very unstable conditions. Labour market flexibility and uncertainty increased greatly since the turn of the century: the share of temporary employees in total employment, for example, grew from 5.6 per cent in 2000 to 28.3 per cent in 2014 (Eurostat Labour Force Survey for 2014). The mainstream trade unions in Poland do not know how to organise such a labour force (Mrozowicki and Maciejewska, 2016).

There are some efforts undertaken by the major trade unions to represent the new categories of workers and to widen the scope of those eligible to become members to self-employed and civil law workers: that is, those working outside the Labour Code regulations. Until now (May 2016), the latter have been excluded from union membership due to a narrow definition of an employee in Ustawa o związkach zawodowych (Trade Union Act). The mainstream union attempts to represent atypical employees have four main dimensions. The first takes a form of political lobbying to bring changes into the Trade Union Act to broaden the definition of workers eligible for union membership. The second dimension consists of social and media campaigns aimed at raising the collective consciousness of labour conditions in particular sectors. As a result of campaigns, the term ‘junk contracts’ was brought into the public debate to describe the various forms of flexible, atypical employment, first and foremost civil law contracts not covered by the Labour Code. The third dimension comprises experimental inter-company union committees in specific workplaces, which embrace both core, regular workers and those in atypical employment, such as temporary agency workers or the outsourced workforce. The fourth dimension relates to the transnational initiatives, either in a form of political lobbying at the EU level, for example for the equal conditions of employment for regular and temporary workers, or participating actively within European Works Councils of large multinationals in order to enhance the international solidarity and limit the scope of capital mobility (Pernicka et al., 2015). Even though social campaigns brought some fresh air into the public debate on labour rights and changed the discourse used to describe the labour market, the material outcomes of unions’ political lobbying are yet to be seen and new organisational experiments are still limited to the key industries such as the automotive industry.

Since the late 2000s, however, there has been a significant growth in the visibility and the membership of smaller unions, which tend to be more militant or explicitly term themselves as radical. The autonomous, alternative (vis-à-vis mainstream) or radical unionism in Poland has its roots in a breakaway unionism possible within the context of a legal framework which provides quite easy tools for establishing an independent union (Gardawski et al., 2012; Mrozowicki and Antoniewicz, 2014). Although such a framework contributed to the emergence of union rivalry or ‘competitive pluralism’ (Gardawski, 2003) that limits inter-union solidarity, it has also created circumstances for the development of new ideas and approaches to unionism. In the following section, the roots and practices of two radical trade unions which seek alternatives to traditional unionism are examined.

Strategies, tactics and tools of radical unions – the case of Confederation of Labour and Workers’ Initiative

As suggested by Upchurch et al. (2014: 39), building alternatives to traditional trade unionism requires assessment of questions concerning class and politics. Radical approaches to unionism have thus to develop such a reflective exercise. Analyses of social movement unionism or radical political unionism have, as their initial point of departure, the notion of the fundamental difference between the interests of labour and capital. These forms of unionism are economically oriented, being workplace-based and struggling for better working conditions, while also consciously opting for political activity by building the opposition to neoliberal marketisation. Radical or alternative unionism refers to the strategy of labour organising based on the vision of conflictual class relations within the capitalist system as well as the state and global politics. The unionism that is conscious of its class and political agendas is also (usually) more actively engaged in building the linkages between the workplaces and the realms beyond them in local communities as well as with other progressive social movements, such as those fighting for the right to housing, land, ecological justice or the rights of women, migrants, ethical or sexual minorities or other disenfranchised groups.

Reflecting on the historical roots of radical, autonomous unionism derived from anarcho-syndicalism (such as the Confederación Nacional del Trabajo, CNT in Spain) and revolutionary industrial unionism (such as the Industrial Workers of the World, IWW in USA) at the start of the 20th century, as well as the operaismo movement in the 1970s in Italy, alternatives could also be built upon a different approach to organisational structure and leadership. These alternatives refer to autonomy, understood as independence from mainstream politics and dominant state institutions; and direct democracy and self-governance, with a focus on participation in unions rather than on membership. An important aspect of these alternatives is the recognition that unions are merely tools and not the aim of transformative politics (Bologna, 2005; Cleaver, 2000). Thus the concept of radical stands for ‘a form of trade unionism that seeks social transformation, either in anti-neoliberal or further towards an anti-capitalist form, rather than accommodation, and political to take trade unionism beyond being a social movement to being a social and political movement. In other words, not merely a movement in and of society, but also one whose aim is power’ (Upchurch et al., 2014: 39). This standpoint refers to the need to reflect continuously on how the workers should organise themselves and, most importantly, for what (Simms and Holgate, 2010).

Within the context of the assumptions mentioned above, this article examines two examples of Polish radical trade unions: IP and KP. These two radical trade unions seek alternatives to the mainstream, traditional unionism in Poland. The main difference between the two radical unions is connected with their roots and ideological strands. While the IP derives from and is still rooted mainly in the anarchist movement, KP is formally embedded in the major confederation of trade unions OPZZ. KP was initially established in 1999 and led by a former activist of the (anti-authoritarian) Polska Partia Socjalistyczna (Polish Socialist Party) and NSZZ Solidarność, with a clear left-wing, class-oriented agenda (Gardawski, 2001: 226–250). KP was conceived as a cross-sectoral unit within the structure of the OPZZ at the confederal level and it was supposed to be responsible for organising difficult segments of the workforce, such as precarious groups of workers or the unemployed. ⁴ This approach failed, however, due to internal opposition within the OPZZ, mostly from the leaders of the affiliated federations who were afraid of losing their organisational power and resources within the confederation. Consequently, rather than becoming a cross-sectoral structure within the confederation, the KP was pushed to the position of one of the trade unions within the OPZZ and it was formally registered as a separate trade union in 1999. Following registration, KP was often treated as a ‘last resort’ for those who were threatened by lay-offs or could not join other unions (Gardawski, 2001: 233). In consequence, there is very high membership turnover within the KP. Nevertheless, the union experienced a rapid expansion: since the mid-2000s estimated membership rose from some 5000 to about 13,000 in 2015.

Contrary to the KP, the history of the IP started in 2001, first as an informal collaboration between local activists and workers from a ship-engine factory, who broke away from NSZZ Solidarność ‘80 in one of the Polish cities. The IP actively supported and learnt from workers’ struggles in the first half of the 2000s (Urbański, 2014). As a result, the informal organisation grew rapidly. With many newcomers, it was decided that there was a need for a more fixed structure formally complying with Polish legislation, mainly because this allowed for a greater protection of workplace-based union members. Thus, the IP was finally constituted as a nationwide trade union in 2004, and has since then undergone two waves of growth. The first took place between 2009 and 2010 and was related to the breakaway mechanism within the groups of workers who started to be disappointed with the existing unions at their workplaces. The second, subsequent wave was associated with the unionisation of unorganised workforces in greenfield investments (such as Amazon) and the unionisation of precarious groups of workers, mainly in the culture industry. It is hard to estimate the level of union membership as some of the union’s committees are latent, but what can be said is that those two waves of growth influenced the size of the union, from about 700 members in 2009 to more than 1000 members in 2015.

The second important difference, resulting from the roots of both unions, concerns their ideology, which is basically more explicit within IP. IP openly opposes the idea of social dialogue and social partnership as a main strategy of trade unionism. In its documents and leaflets, IP calls for the building of a class consciousness, based on the rejection of repressive state and exploitative capitalistic social relations, as an organic task of union activity and far-reaching goal of its existence. ⁵ Existing documents and interviews conducted show that KP is less clear on its politics. Despite its left-wing sympathies, there seems to be a lack of one coherent vision of its long-term goal. ⁶ As stated by the current union chair, it used to be more radical, yet it has undertaken a more pragmatic approach following the leadership change. The ideological change was also interpreted (by our interviewees) as a result of union membership growth, which necessitated the completion of more everyday formal tasks. The historical roots of both unions, as well as their ideological and political strands, overlap with their embeddedness in progressive social movements. The connections between the grass-roots social movements are stronger within the IP, and KP seems to collaborate more with formal social organisations. Thus, the IP is more intertwined with and keen on supporting the tenants’ movement opposing evictions, alongside the anarchist and leftist feminist groups, while KP collaborates with some left-wing NGOs (such as Polska Społeczna (Social Poland)), politicians and the organisations for young within left-wing political parties.

Considering the tactics and tools of the radical unions within the context of their overall organising strategy, there seem to be many more similarities between the unions than within the realm of ideology. The first and most important similarity is their attitude towards organising, and an explicit claim that they organise all workers regardless of their type of contract or occupation, without distinction between those who are self-employed, unemployed, retired or in education. Thus, an individual membership that is not related to a workplace-based committee is also possible. Both unions allowed members from all categories of workers in their statutes long before the discussion started about legal changes in the Trade Union Act. In official documents, as well as in their practice, the radical unions encourage workers in atypical employment or those currently unemployed to join the union. Some successes have been recorded in these areas. As the large and mainstream unions are, in most cases, reluctant to organise workers with civil law contracts, the self-employed, and temporary agency workers (Mrozowicki and Maciejewska, 2016), KP and IP constitute an alternative for such people who are willing to join the union. Thus, the membership in both unions, by their very practice, broadens the notion of an employee beyond the requirements of the legal framework.

The radical approach is based on the redefinition of union membership. As our interviewees claim, union membership is about participation, it does not concern numbers and fees, and, thus, it relates more to building workers’ power based on their solidarity, as well as acting as a group and not as individuals. The main tools for increasing the numbers of workers who can join the union are still based on the existing legal framework. Existing opportunities, however, are used in novel ways. For example, both unions are involved in establishing inter-company union committees, which help to organise workers from different workplaces, and milieu committees, which embrace everyone willing to join the union. As result, both KP and IP manage to organise workers in low or non-unionised sectors and occupations, often faced with very precarious conditions of work. The examples of such groups include artists and NGO workers with civil law contracts, temporary agency workers, nursery workers and self-employed crane operators within IP; and freelance DJs, call centre workers on civil law contracts, small self-employed retailers and self-employed taxi drivers, janitors and security guards within KP. When asked about the motivation of workers to join the union, even though formal protection is limited, ⁷ the IP representatives reported that the core driver here is the explicit statement that the union does not support any political party and, being an independent structure, it creates an alternative to mainstream unions. Also, both unions have easy and quick procedures of establishing new committees facilitated by their webpages or the direct support of their territorial structures. Yet another element helping precarious and other workers to join the union is the anonymity of membership due to the practice of collecting membership fees directly by union committees rather than relying on employers. This possibility is available to mainstream unions, but is not a very common practice.

Another dimension of union organising strategies are direct actions undertaken by both unions. IP and KP actively protect their individual members or members of their milieu committees, while also organising protests to support struggles and wildcat strikes of the non-organised workforce, or initiated by other small unions. As some of our interviewees claim, activities such as these build the potential for either sparking larger conflicts or making particular struggles (often ignored by nationwide media) visible, which, in turn, may translate into new members, committees or simply new supporters.

In order to enhance the organising of precarious workers, both KP and IP use social and media campaigns. IP produces articles, films and leaflets on precarious working conditions, mainly based on interviews conducted with particular groups of workers and union committees. During 2015, IP organised a campaign ‘We, the Precariat’ calling on workers to take to the streets and to build bridges between workers with full-time, open-ended contracts with their counterparts working in unstable, flexible conditions across sectors. ⁸ KP, on the other hand, launched a campaign ‘Poland free from exploitation’ at the beginning of 2016, in cooperation with the NGO ‘Social Poland’ and the Małopolska Region of NSZZ Solidarność. ⁹ Workers, including the non-unionised, can register on their webpage and describe their main problems at work, around which the union promises to build smaller campaigns (solidarity street protest, picket lines at workplaces or ‘name and shame’ happenings) or provide legal support. The unions’ social and media campaigns are supported by the progressive social movements and groups of activists who are (usually) not union members, which broadens the scope of campaigns, making them more visible and thus reaching beyond workplaces.

A further common characteristic of the radical unions derives from the previous ones. It is related to the use of traditional unions’ structures in new ways. Both unions have a universal, cross-sectoral (or inter-sectoral) structure combined with territorial branches, which directly result from the forms of organising and connecting different groups of workers independently of their specific workplaces. This is also an explicit strategy of deriving the strength from knowledge and experience of workers and committees placed in different locations of capitalist production and services. The goal is to connect struggles along the lines of particular segments of the labour market and across them, using tools which are (sometimes unexpectedly) transferred from one context to another. Since most of their committees are rather small in number and scattered all over Poland, both unions have developed territorial structures, less formally organised within the IP than the KP. Territorial structures, in a form of milieu committees in the case of the IP and the KP, and regional (voivodship) committees in the case of the KP, are responsible for supporting new company-level committees in a particular geographic location with legal or tactical training and union materials, or helping them to organise a protest or picket lines during open conflicts with employers. In the case of IP, these activities usually involve activists rooted in local social movements or unionists who are specifically willing to act beyond their workplaces. Given the poor institutional and infrastructural surroundings which could support such small trade unions in Poland and taking into account that collecting the fees is a secondary issue, in both unions there is very little bureaucracy. Limiting or excluding union bureaucracy, and having no or almost no unionist on union payroll is also an explicit claim stated by our interviewees and often repeated on their webpage and leaflets. This approach also helps to limit the threats emerging from the concentration of power and top-down, one-person-leadership and decision-making. Such approaches also reinforce the structures through which union activities are coordinated. Coordination is often quite precarious, although better in KP compared to IP, which has only one small headquarters office.

Conclusions

This article has focused on strategies, tactics and tools adopted by two radical trade unions in Poland in order to understand alternative approaches to union organising and union politics adopted by them in labour-hostile conditions. In line with earlier studies (Connolly et al., 2014; Upchurch and Mathers, 2011), the article argued that radical unionism can broaden in a transformative way the scope of union activities and membership. Radical union strategies, based on questioning the common notion of membership embedded in business unionism, and organising the unorganised across sectors, occupations and forms of employment, have both ideological and political dimensions. On the one hand, looked at from a country-specific level, this approach undermines legal barriers, which narrow the definition of an employee and, thereby, make a space for participation and self-organising for those groups of workers who usually are excluded from union membership. On the other hand, in a wider horizon, this approach undermines the division of labour along the lines of fragmentation of production and services, claiming back the integrity of workers’ interests against the interests of employers and political elites. The analysis of the cases demonstrated how ‘old’ tools were translated into new, creative forms thanks to which workers in the most precarious conditions of work could join unions and pose their demands in an organised way.

The experimental formation of union committees and their universal, cross-sectoral structure is supportive to newcomers, while also helping to address the problems of workers who, because of their distant location in the production or service chains, do not know each other’s realities and thus share little experiences of each other’s struggles. Given the weak institutional setting within which the unions have to operate, their refusal to create a union bureaucracy and their lack of dependency on employers, the practices and structures of the radical unions reflect the idea of self-organising, as well as the concept that the union is merely a tool for broader workers’ solidarity and social change.

Thus, if it is accepted that building workers’ self-governance is a political process (Simms and Holgate, 2010), the claim that ‘the union organises all workers’ links both strands of what Upchurch et al. (2014) call a radical political unionism, as it is based on the notion of class-based unionism that brings power to workers. Although the definition of organising as a tool for gaining solidarity and workers’ power might be blurred and detached from a materialistic dimension, the practices of what could be called the ‘union for all the workers’ can bring tangible results in building collective class consciousness in the present conflictual, capitalist social relations that reach far beyond the workplace level. Thus, the ‘organising for what?’ cannot be precisely answered. To paraphrase one of our interviewees, the practice usually anticipates our reflections. Therefore, the question itself has to be posed continuously and this exercise itself can bring transformative effects as it forces union activists and leaders to make a novel use of previous experiences and struggles.