Different Worlds: Life in the German Democratic Republic A Review of Talks and Writing by Victor Grossman/Stephen Wechsler

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“The GDR threw out the Vialons and Scheels, the Krupps and Flicks, the Thyssens and Deutsche Bankers, the Globkes and Gehlens [corporate heads, ideologists, military leaders, lawyers who facilitated and implemented fascist criminality] … My hatred of those who build and ran Auschwitz and Treblinka led me to resolve ‘Never again.’ For me, this included Jews and Palestinian Arabs, Poles and Roma, Congolese and Kurds, Tamils of Sri Lanka, Rohingya of Myanmar, and oppressed people everywhere. Black men or women in the ghettos, gay or transgender victims or Native Americans on the North Dakota prairie: all are my brothers and sisters!”

“There were undeniably blots, far too many, which hastened the final failure [of East German socialism]. I don’t want to prettify the past. Avarice, egoism, envy, and other failings could not be eradicated by even the best laws or most socially conscious system … Humans rarely become angels. But there do seem to have been changes: comparisons shortly after [German] unification showed East Germans on the average less motivated by a craving for more money and laying more value on family life. With little pecuniary rivalry, they tended to be friendlier with one another. Women, despite the burdens of household and family weighing heavier on their shoulders then on men’s, were more satisfied at their independent roles on the job with other people, and better able to defy patriarchal pressures.”

Nearly 30 years have passed since the Berlin Wall crumbled followed quickly by the collapse of the German Democratic Republic. Thus ended the attempt to build socialism on one-third of German soil. Along with that failure came a version of history in which the totalitarian East was inevitably defeated by the liberal capitalist West because of the inherent virtues of free markets. Buried in the Cold War triumphalism of German unification, the questions of what happened, why and what it all meant were left unasked, let alone answered as capitalism – unencumbered by alternatives in the East — was seen as ready to launch into a golden age. In the years since, however, the bloom has fallen off the rose; Germany’s economy has grown but so too has inequality, poverty and dislocation – realities even more apparent in the United States. Unification was supposed to be a step toward peace, but the US and NATO have since been engaged in endless wars of aggression. Germany’s military budget and arms sales have grown too, while engaging in military action around the world, something that had been unthinkable in 1945, something that was not supposed to happen when the Wall came down. Most concerning has been the revival of strength of neo-fascist movements, right-wing demagogues, unvarnished anti-Semitism joined to an especially toxic Islamophobia. 

These developments raise the question of why the defeat of Germany, Italy and Japan during World War II did not bury fascism once and for all. So too, the 2008-9 banking crisis – which hit Europe as it did the United States – raises the question of why capitalism, unrestrained by even a flawed or weak socialism, has been so unable to meet popular needs, to provide security or prosperity for working people. Capitalism’s failures has removed socialism from the list of taboo words when looking at political alternatives and has given space for a more honest and nuanced look at what went right, what went wrong, during those years of the GDR’s existence from 1949-1991.

Victor Grossman, on a national tour discussing his book, A Socialist Defector: From Harvard to Karl-Marx-Allee, spoke with such honesty along with sympathy for what the GDR accomplished and attempted. At age 91, he was not, however, only concerned with the past; he addressed GDR history with an eye to contemporary relevance in well-attended talks in Washington DC. He spoke at the progressive event space Busboys and Poets 14th & V location (May 15), and at the German government-sponsored Goethe Institute (May 17) with Washington Post Senior Editor Marc Fisher moderating the latter. In addition, he addressed the Nation reading group meeting at the Cleveland Park library on May 18.

Victor – whose given name is Stephen Wechsler – has a unique vantage point for he defected from the US to the GDR in 1952, lived and worked there until its collapse, remaining thereafter in reunified Germany, retaining his socialist convictions. Victor’s uniqueness may be noted by one simple fact – he is the only person to have graduated from both Harvard and the Karl Marx University (and given that the latter no longer exists, it is a club of which he is likely to remain the only member). The politics and commitment to a better world that lay behind the decisions which brought him both degrees form a central part of his story.

Born in 1928, growing up observing the ravages of the Depression, the rise of fascism and anti-Semitism in Europe, the struggle to defend and advance the ideals of the New Deal, Victor became a supporter and subsequently a member of the Communist Party while a student at Harvard. That commitment remained and was expressed in support of Henry Wallace’s Progressive Party campaign in 1948 around demands for economic justice, an end to racism, a commitment to peace in the last attempt to give expression to the goals that seemed to realization during the labor-led progressive gains of the 1930s, especially after the World War II defeat of Hitler. Times, though, were changing, the world-wide, war-time anti-Nazi alliance was breaking up as was the New Deal Coalition domestically. Reaction set-in, anti-Communism became almost a state religion and the era of Joe McCarthy witch-hunts began. Congress passed legislation that made the Communist Party a semi-legal organization, the enforcement mechanism being ubiquitous loyalty oaths.

“… this comparison is not to excuse repression as it existed in the GDR, it nonetheless should give pause to those who uncritically accept the too-often promoted Cold War democracy vs. totalitarian framework.”

The Korean War soon took center stage, and with it, military conscription. Victor was drafted and made the fateful decision to sign on the dotted line the statement that he was not a Communist Party member. Sent to serve in Austria, an FBI informant led to a scheduled hearing about the affidavit. Fearing criminal charges for perjury, Victor instead decided to flee to the Soviet-occupied sector of Austria and announced his willingness to defect. Within a year he was living and working in the GDR and there he would make his life (it is a story he recounts in greater detail in an earlier volume: Crossing the River: A Memoir of the American Left, the Cold War, and life in East Germany). It is that unusual double-sided life that enables Grossman to give a fuller, more balanced perspective than most commentators — stressing the positive, to be sure, but without ignoring the negative; the genuine meaning in daily life of the degree of social security and equality the GDR attained as against the social and personal consequences of the narrowness, lack of openness, the democratic deficits the country suffered.

The latter, however, is all that most people know; the Berlin Wall transformed by the media into an image of East Germany as one large prison. Victor asked at the Goethe Institute talk how many people had seen the film, The Lives of Others – most raised their hands. He then pointed out the distortions in its image of a GDR in which all lived in fear. Police surveillance and political repression did indeed exist, and were among the reasons the GDR was unable to survive. But the picture of the film of an all-seeing police state was an exaggeration that had little to do with the actual circumstances of life people lived – moreover GDR actions could not be separated from the real-life attempts to destroy what was being built by West Germany and the US. Grossman added that most commentators failed to note that the film itself could have been a film of McCarthyism in the US (including an accidental, ironic, or wholly unintentional, similarity to aspects of the Alger Hiss case – a notorious early instance of witch-hunting that proved to be the launching pad for Richard Nixon’s national political career).

The point Victor was making in that respect was the need to see developments in relationship to each other. His journey West to East was very much a response to the repression that gripped hold of the United States in the late 1940s early 1950s, repression that resulted in arrests, black lists, deportations, repression that stirred up racist mobs, expanded FBI power and surveillance, repression that weakened democratic institutions within the US. While adding that this comparison is not to excuse repression as it existed in the GDR, it nonetheless should give pause to those who uncritically accept the too-often promoted Cold War democracy vs. totalitarian framework.

Commonplace contrasts between the two systems can instead be turned when it comes to making a comparison between West and East Germany. Victor eventually became a journalist in the GDR and, as such, served as a writer for the Democratic German Report in the early 1960’s publishing the results of research that showed that former Nazis – often high-ranking ones with direct involvement in the promulgation and implementation of ant-Semitic laws, war crimes in occupied territories, placing anti-fascists in concentration camps, overseeing gas chambers – dominated amongst West German diplomats abroad, in the courts, universities, schools, police, other administrative posts and in centers of political and business power. The facts could not be denied, yet the consequence of the exposures had relatively little impact: former Nazis remained over-represented in national leadership and the civil service in the new “democracy.” This passage from an authoritarian to a democratic system did not represent any break with the thinking of the past – the policies and practices of German industry and banks, of Germany’s renewed bid for dominance in Europe and military aggressiveness outside Europe’s borders, in the post-1991 world shows the continuities left over from a lack of confrontation with the past.

West German officials and media attempted to charge the GDR with the same, but the difference was striking – no equivalents could be found in the higher reaches of the government in the East, and those few administrators discovered were not the policy makers and ideologists of the fascist regime. Rejecting those who had set the stage and implemented the policies of the Nazis had widespread consequences. As Grossman explained (and details in his book) it necessitated a rapid process of training people to teach, to serve in the diplomatic corps, to form a new police force and military, to join the civil service. Most of these were working-class people whose upward mobility would have otherwise been sharply limited; they formed the core of support for the new society along with Communists and other anti-fascists who survived the years of terror.

But, as Grossman pointed out, this was not an unmixed blessing – the lack of experience, the swiftness of the training, contributed to the dogmatism and rigidity that was to hamper the GDR throughout its history. Moreover, those who became part of the new society in this way often failed to understand the needs, thoughts, dreams of the generation which came after them, contributing to the alienation of many young people that became so evident in the 1980s. This, in turn, reinforced undemocratic practices, to limitations on popular initiatives, that were at the root of the GDR’s failure – though, he also pointed out that these lay too in a degree of distrust of the population, many of whom, of course, had gone along with the Nazi terror. 

Adding to the GDR’s difficulties was the obligation to pay almost all of Germany’s reparations to the Soviet Union, while West Germany was receiving support from the United States in rebuilding its economy. Yet as Grossman points out, despite the flaws and rigidities of socialism as it was being developed in the East much improved over time – incomes rose, housing improved, social amenities became better, there was greater choice in consumer goods, and the quality of life became richer in many respects. Quite to the contrary of the image projected in The Lives of Others, people had privacy and freedom in their personal lives. But democratic input remained limited and in some respects moved backward and with that came a sense of freedom being constricted – especially with the allure of the West which seemed (and, in some respects, was) more dynamic, especially as the insecurity and inequality that underlay that growth was not appreciated by a younger generation who had not experienced the boom and bust cycles of capitalist life.

“However, when it comes to the third freedom –freedom from want – socialism had the stronger argument as it reflected the system’s values.”

Victor noted that his political convictions developed under the influence of the New Deal and felt that FDR’s four freedoms serve as a way to envision a better world – and so as a way to compare the GDR with both West Germany and the United States. Of course, the first freedom is that of speech, and there he reaffirmed that East Germany’s record left a lot to be desired and was the Achilles Heel that played an outsized role in the system’s demise. Though the extent of repression is exaggerated, the repression was real and costly. At the same time, political repression has a long history in the United States as well – being the reason for his decision to defect – and alongside racist repression continues to this day (and repression had a history in West Germany and still does in re-unified Germany today). As to freedom of worship, the GDR’s record was again mixed – churches were open, religious practice was permitted, manifestations of anti-Semitism were illegal – but there is no doubt that main line churches were often the victim of petty repressive measures in a game of tit-for-tat with West Germany which itself was an aspect of the GDR’s never fully overcame democratic deficit. 

However, when it comes to the third freedom – freedom from want – socialism had the stronger argument as it reflected the system’s values. People in the GDR did not suffer from homelessness, unemployment, poverty or hunger. Victor writes of how when his wife visited the US (her first time in the West) after the Wall came down, she was shocked at the sight of beggars, for she had never before seen people so desperate for a meal. Quoting FDR that “necessitous men are not free men,” Victor argued that this fundamental right is all too often forgotten and that in this the contrast between capitalism and the socialism they were trying to build in the GDR are most clearly to be found. So too was the final freedom – freedom from fear – which meant that humanity should no longer live under the cloud of war. Grossman again quotes from FDR this too little remembered admonition: “freedom from fear … means a worldwide reduction of armaments … in such a thorough fashion that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor — anywhere in the world.”  Several months after Roosevelt’s death, the US launched nuclear bombs over Hiroshima then Nagasaki, after which our arms spending and military interventions and wars abroad have been unending, unrelenting and on a scale beyond any other nation of the world. Grossman recounts those wars, that violence, and comments that there is no freedom from fear in the world.  In fact, in his talk he noted that climate change has added a new source of fear in the world.

Although attitudes can’t be legislated, social policies can be implemented and here too Victor brought to light positive measures the GDR took to ensure that whatever progress was made, was made for all. The racism and forms of stratification everywhere to be found in the US were banned in the GDR as were the kinds of hate speech that now finds expression in White House orchestrated mass rallies. Victor gave a picture of daily life that, notwithstanding its limitations, was in some aspects freer, more humane than our own, and certainly not the unrelieved grim experience that is often portrayed. In this he challenged the view of the United States and our full-blown capitalism as natural, normal, and inevitable with the contrast of the conscious attempt to create an alternative. Even if the experiment failed the fact that an alternative was tried proved that what exists need not always exist. Others can learn from the GDR’s failure and perhaps do better in the future to come. Questions at both the formal talks he gave in DC touched on this, with a receptivity that might not have been there thirty years ago when socialism appeared buried forever and capitalism on the cusp of a new beginning. 

Many (but by no means all) attendees at the Goethe Institute event came with a perspective more critical of the GDR to begin with – and some questions stressed the centrality of individual freedom and as a freedom more respected in the West – but all were asked and answered in a spirit of openness. Some questions were the same at both events, including one that often figures in discussions: with full employment and a relatively narrow gap between lowest to highest pay scales withholding both the fear of job loss and the hope of riches that serve as a productivity engine in capitalist society, can socialism “work”?  And, indeed, Victor granted that the question was legitimate. He responded that workplaces were centers of socialization, that a line might be shut down for a number of different reasons even if it meant slowing production. People did their jobs but often did not push themselves beyond that. It is a complex problem and genuine difficulty, Victor agreed, but he added that work need not be oppressive, that it isn’t always necessary to make the maximum effort, that life exists beyond the capitalist imperative of ever more. The real question here is the cost to quality of life by a system of exploitation, the question still to be discovered is what would be valued in a world free of exploitation and war. As much as FDR’s four freedoms, Victor’s explained that his political convictions – his opposition to what capitalism is, his vision of what socialism could be — found expression in Martin Luther King’s 1967 speech against the Vietnam War, his call for a revolution in values  “… [for] when machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, extreme materialism and militarism are incapable of being conquered.” 

Victor’s talk was not meant as either an exercise in nostalgia nor as an idle look at what might be. He was clear on stressing the needs of the moment – his political commitment when young was fired by hatred of fascism and so today he stressed the need to combat the growing strength of neo-fascism in Germany, the need to combat Donald Trump’s racism and authoritarianism.  When young, he was inspired by the promise of the New Deal and the politics that sought to ground it in workers’ struggles and deeper structural change. Today, he takes heart from the wide support Bernie Sanders has generated – his popularizing of socialism in the context of a militant challenge to corporate power has its roots in the same New Deal ideals. So too does the proposal of a Green New Deal authored by Rep. Alexandria Cortez-Ocasio and other newly elected representatives in Congress on behalf of a younger generation committed to a different and better future.

Being attuned to current progressive initiative contributes to a spirit of optimism that runs through Grossman’s book and talks. This stems from a life of commitment that learns from defeat rather than using it as an excuse to turn away from life. That is best expressed in the closing lines of A Socialist Defector:

I believe that what I wrote, said, or did was for a good cause, and despite occasional mistakes I have no real regrets.  And I still have great hopes for a happier future for everyone, everywhere!  They are expressed in two of my most cherished songs.  One is the fighting miners’ sing “Which Side Ae You On?”  The other, full of hope for tomorrow’s man – and definitely woman: “Imagine no possession, I wonder if you can, no need for greed or hunger – a brotherhood of man.”

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Note:  All quotes are from A Socialist Defector From Harvard to Karl-Marx-Allee by Victor Grossman/Stephen Wechsler (Monthly Review Press, New York, 2019)

About the author

Kurt Stand

Kurt Stand was active in the labor movement for over 20 years including as the elected North American Regional Secretary of the International Union of Food and Allied Workers until 1997.  He is a member of the Prince George’s County Branch of Metro DC DSA, and periodically writes for the Washington Socialist, Socialist Forum, and other left publications. He serves as a Portside Labor Moderator, and is active within the reentry community of formerly incarcerated people. Kurt Stand lives in Greenbelt, MD. View all posts by Kurt Stand →

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A GI Rebellion: When Soldiers Said No to War

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Fifty years ago this fall, a campus upsurge turned opposition to the Vietnam War into a genuine mass movement.

On October 15, 1969, several million students, along with community-based activists, participated in anti-war events under the banner of the “Vietnam Moratorium.”

A month later, 500,000 people came to a Washington, D.C. demonstration of then-unprecedented size, organized by the “New Mobilization Committee to End the War in Vietnam.”

As we approach the 50th anniversary of both the Moratorium and Mobilization, it’s worth recalling one critical anti-war constituency whose role was less visible then and remains little acknowledged today.

While student demonstrators and draft resisters drew more mass media attention at the time, many military draftees – reservists and recently returned veterans – also protested the Vietnam war with equal fervor and often greater impact.

Fortunately, three Vietnam-era activists have just published Waging Peace (New Village Press, 2019), which gives long overdue credit to anti-war organizing by men and women in uniform, and their civilian allies and funders.

Labor organizer Ron Carver, Notre Dame professor David Cortright, and writer/editor Barbara Doherty have crafted a beautifully-illustrated 240-page tribute to the GI anti-war movement. Waging Peace includes fifty first-person accounts by grassroots builders of that movement, plus photo documentation of their work by William Short, a Vietnam combat veteran.

As Cortright notes in the book’s introduction, social science researchers hired by the military (and later academic experts) concluded that one-quarter of all “low-ranking service members participated in Vietnam-era antiwar activity.”

This percentage is “roughly equivalent to the proportion of activists among students at the peak of the anti-war movement.” In the rural and conservative communities, which surround most military bases then and now, “the proportion of anti-war activists among soldiers was actually higher than in the local youth population.”

The Anti-Warriors Today

Now in their late 60s and 70s, many anti-warriors profiled in Waging Peace are long-distance runners in the field. Some remain active in Veterans for Peace (VFP), which held its lateste national convention in Spokane. One highlight of that annual gathering was the unveiling of archival material and photos that appear in Waging Peace.

This hotel ballroom exhibit included many striking examples of underground press work–mimeographed newspapers for GIs with names like Last Harass, Up Against the Bulkhead, Attitude Check, or Fun, Travel and Adventure (whose acronymic double message was “Fuck the Army!”

Among those viewing younger portraits of themselves in Spokane – along with documentation of their own anti-war activity – were ex-Marine Paul Cox, Army veteran Skip Delano, and former Navy nurse Susan Schnall. In Waging Peace, each one shares a memorable tale of personal transformation, due to their wartime experiences at home or abroad.

A native of Oklahoma, Cox served as a platoon leader in Vietnam’s Quang Nam Province in 1969.  There he witnessed a massacre of civilians, “smaller scale but no less barbaric” than the mass killings at My Lai which occurred a year earlier.

After completing his combat tour, Cox was assigned to Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. He and several Maine buddies decided it was “our duty to put out a newspaper and print the truth about Nam.”

Over a two-year period they, and later recruits, produced thousands of copies of a clandestine publication called RAGEAs Cox says today, “RAGE was definitely not an example of great journalism.” But it did allow him to redirect his own anger and disillusionment into an effort “to warn others who were about to be deployed.”

In Vietnam, Skip Delano was assigned to a chemical unit attached to the 101st Airborne Division. After his return to Fort McClellan in Alabama, he believed he had earned the right “to comment on the war to other people”—an opinion not shared by his base commander.

Delano helped write and edit a GI newsletter called Left Face, whose distributors faced six-months in the stockade if they were caught with bulk copies. In October of 1969 he and 30 others bravely signed a petition supporting the Mobilization scheduled for the following month in Washington, DC. This deep South expression of solidarity with civilian protestors up north triggered Military Intelligence investigations and interrogations, loss of security clearances, and threats of further discipline.

Protesting in Uniform

A year before Delano’s dissent, Susan Schnall’s dramatic acts of Bay Area resistance drew heavy military discipline. She was court-martialed, sentenced to six months of hard labor, and dismissed from the Navy for “conduct unbecoming an officer.”

Schnall grew up in a Gold Star family; her father, who she never knew, was a Marine killed in Guam during World War II. As a Navy nurse in 1967, she toiled among “night time screams of pain and fear” that came from patients badly wounded and recently returned from Vietnam.

In October, 1968, Schnall became involved in a planned “GI and Veterans March for Peace” in San Francisco. To publicize that event, she and a pilot friend rented a single engine plane, filled it with thousands of leaflets, and dropped them over local military facilities like the Presidio, Treasure Island, the Alameda Naval Station, and her own workplace, Oak Knoll hospital in Oakland.

Then, in full dress uniform, she joined 500 other active duty service people, in a march from Market St in San Francisco to its Civic Center, where they were cheered by thousands of civilian protestors.

Fifty years after Cox, Delano and Schnall rallied their uniformed comrades against the Vietnam war, all three are still engaged in causes like defending veterans’ healthcare against privatization by the Trump Administration.

Later this fall, they and other VFP members are helping to bring the Waging Peace exhibit to Amherst and New Bedford, Mass, New York City and Washington, DC. Next Spring, this book-based display will reach campus or community audiences in Seattle, San Francisco, and Los Angeles.

Red State Resistance

Activists today, particularly those involved in working class organizing, should buy this book or see the exhibit based on it. Local-level leaders of the GI movement displayed courage, creativity, and audacity when rallying their own “fellow workers” who had been conscripted by the hundreds of thousands.

Much rank-and-file education and agitation about Vietnam occurred on or near heavily guarded military bases located in what are now called “red states.” They became unexpected incubators for homegrown (and imported) radicalism.

Some forms of GI resistance, referenced in the book, involved sabotage of equipment, small and larger scale mutinies, rioting in military stockades, and deadly assaults on unpopular officers, known as “fragging.”

The national network of GI coffee houses described in Waging Peace became places where soldiers and sailors could relax, socialize, listen to music, read what they wanted, and have fun with each other and their civilian supporters.  This helped break down the military vs civil society divide that is far wider today–due, in part, to the post-Vietnam creation of a “professional army” to replace the rebellious conscripts of fifty years ago.

Thanks to their low morale – and heroic Vietnamese resistance to foreign aggression – U.S. ground forces were no longer “an effective fighting force by 1970,” according to Cortright. “To save the Army,” he says,” it became necessary to withdraw troops and end the war. Their dissent and defiance played a decisive role in limiting the ability of the U.S. to continue the war…”

In an era of “forever wars,” it may be hard to imagine such impactful organizing among active duty military personnel or newly-minted veterans. Let’s hope that the many examples of grassroots activism in Waging Peace prove inspirational and instructive for younger progressives today. 

This valuable book might even stimulate some new thinking about how the left can better relate to the 22 million Americans who have served in the military or continue to do so – to their own detriment and that of people throughout the world.

Beyond the Waterfront!

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Editor’s Note: Just as I was sitting down to read Peter Cole’s excellent book, a dispute broke out in the Port of Los Angeles over automation and the future of work.I couldn’t avoid commenting on that dispute and much of my review examines the challenges facing the International Longshore and Warehouse Union (ILWU). But as an activist historian I am sure that Peter will not mind the fact that his work inspired me to think about the future of workers on the waterfront and beyond. Solidarity!

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October 1983: San Francisco, CA. Tanker coming through the Golden Gate.
Photo: ©1983 Robert Gumpert

Book Review: Dockworker Power Race and Activism in Durban and the San Francisco Bay Area, Peter Cole, University of Illinois Press 2018

Almost alone among unions, the International Longshore and Warehouse Union (ILWU) employs a full time librarian and archivist. In my 17 years as Organizing Director I would often take my lunch down to the third floor of the union’s headquarters in San Francisco and gab with Librarian Gene Vrana or his successor Robin Walker. Beyond maintaining the union’s archives, books, newspapers, clippings and oral histories, they were both a treasure trove of knowledge about the union’s history and traditions. Perhaps no other union in the United States besides the United Auto Workers has been the object of so many histories, articles and speculation. Peter Cole has added a fine volume to that pantheon with his comparative study of dockworkers in the Bay Area with their counterparts in the Port of Durban, South Africa. His book recently won the Philip Taft Labor History Book Award for 2019.

Cole’s Contributions

Cole focuses his examination of the two dockworker groups on their often unheralded contributions to the struggle for racial justice. He also examines their responses to port automation – the introduction of containers. And finally he draws out their participation in international solidarity actions.

In two very interesting observations Cole contextualizes working class power in time, place and socio-political conditions.

First he draws out a discussion of the process of casualization and how it can serve or inhibit the working class struggle depending on social and political context. As many American readers know the “shape up” was the classic casual labor relationship on the waterfront prior to the great maritime strike of 1934 on the West Coast. The ship’s boss would come down to the docks looking for labor and pick a crew arbitrarily from workers “shaping up” on the waterfront. This was a system prone to extreme favoritism and discrimination based on caprice or the boss man’s strategic discrimination against troublemaking labor activists. The 1934 strike and its subsequent settlement put in place a hiring hall that was controlled by the union with a non discriminatory dispatch system. The hiring hall ”low man out” was a powerful weapon that eliminated the day-to-day power of the employer over the workforce and spawned much of the independence and political activism of the ILWU.

In South Africa on the other hand the “togt”, a labor system based on the causal labor of Zulu tribesmen who worked day to day with no permanent relationship to the employers, ended up benefitting the workforce in its struggle over wages and conditions. Unions were banned, and there was no permanent employment system so Zulus would just not “shape up” in effect striking but with impunity because they had no permanent employment relationship that they were severing. The employers later instituted an employment system in order to dominate and control labor.

A second example of the two unions and their comparative histories yields another historical irony and a deeper analytical point. The ILWU throughout the long struggle to end South African apartheid had played an active role in support of liberation. Nelson Mandela saluted the ILWU on his 1990 visit to the US after being freed from 27 years in prison. At a rally before 60,000- in the Oakland Coliseum he declared, “We salute members of the ILWU Local 10 who refused to unload a South African cargo ship in 1984….” Fast-forward to 2008 post apartheid and the South African Transport and Allied Workers Union (SATAWU) refused to unload arms from a Chinese ship docking in Durban. The arms were destined for the repressive regime of Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe. As Cole points out the South African constitution legally protected the SATAWU action in 2008, and a South African judge ruled in favor of a potential freight boycott, whereas in 1984 a San Francisco Federal judge slapped the ILWU and boycott leaders with injunctions.

This difference spotlights a more profound point, one very artfully articulated by sociologist and researcher Katy Fox-Hodess, “These economic and material dimensions of worker power only tell part of the story. A narrow focus on these dimensions without consideration of the broader social and historical forces shaping the terrain of struggle in the industry leads to an overestimation of possibilities and the underestimation of challenges”. (Presentation at Historical Materialism Conference, London November 2018) Fox-Hodess, who worked for the ILWU as an organizer before beginning her academic career, forces us to remember that social and political context can lead to very different results in the class struggle. I have often made this point by suggesting that while dockworkers in Singapore may have a very similar structural power at a choke point node in the economy to their counterparts in Durban in 2008 or Oakland in 1984 for that matter, their ability to act is limited by a military dictatorship and the possibility of extreme physical repression.

At 221 pages Cole’s book is a very worthwhile read. It taps a lot of exciting scholarship and oral histories to make some important observations in addition to those mentioned above. Six chapters unfold his story of the fight for racial justice in both ports, the struggles around automation and international solidarity actions. The book relies heavily on secondary and tertiary sources because most of the original combatants are deceased. As with many treatments of the ILWU it tends to highlight, but not uncritically, the glorious history. In fairness to Cole he does not pretend to make prognostications or give strategic guidance for the future, although such guidance is latent in the history of the union. That is why I found very telling the quote from Clash front man Joe Strummer that Cole uses in the opening of his concluding chapter: The Future is Unwritten This is the title of an album that Strummer and his band did, and the title of a movie about Strummer made in 2007 three years after his death. How does the union’s history help us to write that new history? This new history would be a new course of action that can overcome the union’s increasing isolation on the docks and the existential challenge of automation.

History as a Guide to Action

The early leaders of the ILWU recognized that their docker power was not an island. Seeing that their work was interconnected with warehousing that often took place right across the Embarcadero they conducted the famed “March Inland” of 1934-38 that is well documented in Harvey Schwartz’s book The March Inland: Origins of the ILWU Warehouse Division which is mentioned in Cole’s volume. This “March Inland” resulted in the union covering its strategic flanks along the supply chain, and it resulted in creating a warehouse Local 6 whose numbers rose to 20,000 in the early 50’s far outnumbering Local 10 and the longshore division. This local and its numerical superiority meant that the International Secretary Treasurer of the Union until very recently was elected out of the Warehouse ranks.  It also rooted the ILWU in the broader working class preventing if from being an isolated aristocracy of “Lords of the Docks”. The numbers in the Warehouse Local alone created a presence in the community that meant that Longshore Local 10 was not isolated socially and politically from the broader community but swam in the working class sea. This was also true in the Puget Sound and Los Angeles where Locals 9 and 26 provided an anchor into the broader working class. Interesting to note that the first Latino President of Local 26 was Bert Corona the legendary Chicano leader and founder of Hermandad Mexicana.

No one grasped this lesson more profoundly than Lou Goldblatt, the longtime Secretary Treasurer of the International union who came out of the “March Inland” in the Bay Area. When he was sent to Hawaii to help the organizing effort of the longshoremen there, he observed, “One of the conclusions I reached was that longshoring played a different role in Hawaii than it did on the mainland. Instead of being a general industry of longshoring, in Hawaii longshoring was just a branch of the Big Five (Sugar and pineapple giants like C&H, Dole, Del Monte)”” The docks could not be held without controlling the chain, the flanks. This led to the ILWU’s organization of the thousands of sugar and pineapple workers. When the sugar and pineapple plantations were phased out the new resort hotels were organized by the ILWU using the power of its numbers and its political reach so that the ILWU to this day remains the largest private sector union in Hawaii and a statewide political power. This is political power that sustains whatever actions the 900 long shore workers may take on the docks. Having a union with 25,000 members on the Hawaiian Islands with a total population of one million people means a density that permeates community and politics and makes everything easier especially the new organizing of workers. All the solidarity actions and support for racial justice are grounded in a reality of a broader community that both benefits from docker power but bolsters it and strengthens it.

Employment Trends Away from the Docks

Port of Los Angeles/Long Beach, California, 2000
Photo: ©2000 Robert Gumpert

In the glory years of the “March Inland” in the Bay Area the targets were very apparent, often across the Embarcadero in a coffee warehouse or manufacturer or other storage facility or processing plant with geographic proximity to the docks. While the proximity may not be the same the relationship between docker work and inland employment is easily understood. The ILWU is well aware of the studies that have been done by industry observers and academics on the growth of maritime logistics employment away from the waterfront. Nobody has better documented these employment trends than Professor Peter V. Hall at Simon Fraser University. (page 251-252 Choke Points, Pluto Press 2018) He details the massive growth in container traffic through the West Coast ports.  In 1980, 2.1 million TEUs were handled in the ports of the West Coast. In 2010, 14.9 million units were handled. This is a 620 percent increase. In this same period of dramatic cargo growth the growth in long shore, or on dock employment, has grown but at nowhere near the rate of cargo trends. It is important to remember that in 1960, prior to the advent of containerization, there were 26,000 longshore workers on the West Coast docks. In 1980 after the establishment of containerization as the dominant mode of cargo movement, there were only 10,245 workers left on the docks. In the period that Hall details from 1980 to 2010, employment grew to only 13,829, a rise of only 35 percent, and puny when compared with the 620 percent increase in production. There is no mystery to this disparity. Containers and massive capital equipment have replaced longshore gangs in the United States and around the world. Before containerization a ship would call for two weeks to be loaded and unloaded. Today the process can take less than 24 hours. While these increases in employment keep pace with regular employment trends, the real job growth action is off dock on the West Coast in three areas:

Loading containers, Port of Los Angeles/Long Beach, California, 2000
Photo: ©2000 Robert Gumpert
  • Logistics information services: from 1980: 12,816 to 2010: 47,890. This is 274 percent growth. These are information service workers who track the flow of cargo and equipment worldwide. Often they work at inland office centers far from the docks. For example Evergreen, the giant Taiwanese carrier, has a massive information center in Dallas, Texas, far from any port, and purposefully so.
  • Warehousing: from 1980: 12,738 to 2010: 86,737. This is 581 percent growth. These are inland warehouses and 3 Party Logistics centers that provide warehouse and order fulfillment services to giant retailers that are clients of the giant carriers that employ dockworkers in the ports.
  • Trucking: 1980: 156,808 to 2010: 257,673. This is 64 percent growth. The increases in these off-dock sectors are much more in keeping with the triple-digit increases in cargo volumes. These drivers are often called “owner operators” or “independent contractors,” and therefore their wages and conditions are eroded because they are treated as pieceworkers and paid by the load, especially in short-haul trucking. Many of them, particularly doing short-haul trucking, were once members of the Teamsters. After deregulation on 1981 the Teamsters lost control of this short-haul cargo “drayage” sector.

These growth sectors are the inland flanks of the ILWU, and in order to preserve its power and viability the union must organize these workers and/or assist other unions in doing so. The surprisingly close relationship between Bridges and Teamster leader Jimmy Hoffa was based on a mutual understanding of the linkages between maritime freight and trucking.

Fighting Automation or Growing Union Power?

In Chapter 4 Peter Cole deals with the question of automation. This chapter rehashes the debates around the historic M&M agreement of 1960, and whether it was the right move or not by Bridges. The 1971 strike is studied again as rank and file reaction to the M&M and containerization and steady man provisions that weakened the hiring hall. Bridges is again second guessed for his consideration of a merger with the IBT, although it could be argued that he correctly saw that the ILWU long term could not exist as an island isolated from other workers in the supply chain – like truckers and warehouse workers.

Lumper inside an emptied container Port of LA, California 2000
Photo: ©2000 Robert Gumpert

There is only one scant mention by Cole of the Container Freight Station (CFS) supplement of 1969 that was the union’s belated attempt to deal with the issue that haunts the ILWU to this day. The CFS agreement provided that longshoremen would stuff and unstuff the freight from containers, meaning that the work that was formerly being done in the hull of a ship would be done in loading and unloading a container filled with goods for multiple consignees. This work was required to be done union or the employers would be fined $10,000 per container. The language of the CFS agreement provided for a 50-mile radius from the port within which the CFS language would be in effect. This was the Union’s half hearted and ineffectual way of capturing the “functions” that used to be part of loading a traditional cargo ship. The National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) and the Courts have clearly held that this provision is unenforceable, but this continues to be the Union’s feeble and unsuccessful response to a vast increase in inland employment in the supply chain. Nowadays there are not multiple consignees to a container. In the case of Wal-Mart or Amazon they import thousand of containers annually and unload them in third party warehouses or their own distribution centers. This is where there has been massive growth in employment so while the union can bash on dock automation the Employers are running for touchdowns inland.

I played defensive tackle in high school. I was big and strong and loved physical contact. When an opposing player came out to block me I loved to pound the blocker into the turf with sharp blows from my forearms. I was often effective in doing that, but I’ll never forget my defensive line coach rolling an embarrassing bit of game film forward and backwards showing me devastating my immediate opponent but also showing the offensive ball carrier running right by me for a big gain. The coach would say, “Nice job on the blocker Pete, but the point is to tackle the ball carrier.”

This is a good metaphor for the struggle going on now on the West Coast with respect to the marine supply chain. Let’s keep our eye on the ball carrier and the future of the supply chain. It has been amply demonstrated that growth in employment in the marine supply chain for a long time has been away from employment on the docks.

Old port area along Mission Bay, San Francisco, CA. 2015. The area is now developed with a jogging trails, condo’s, tech/bio business and the Warrior’s basketball arena.
Photo: ©2015 Robert Gumpert

Automation in the Port of Los Angeles

Recently the ILWU has been engaged in a massive battle in the Port of Los Angeles with Maersk over the automation of Pier 400, which will cost the ILWU dozens of jobs and lots of work hours. Powerful mobilizations of the San Pedro/Wilmington community and the workforce have taken place attempting to stop through the political process the introduction of those robots, which were agreed to by the ILWU in a 2008 Memorandum of Understanding with the Pacific Maritime Association, the employers group. The settlement of this battle has resulted in the ILWU getting a commitment from Maersk to fund training for ILWU members to do robot maintenance and repair, pretty much what the union negotiated in 2008. The merits of this settlement can be debated, but two things are clear: The robots are coming, and Maersk has its eye on the ball and its corporate future and is engaged in its own “March Inland”. In a fascinating recent article in the Wall Street Journal Maersk reveals its plans to achieve a company makeover from 80% of their earnings coming from container shipping to “Hopefully a couple of years from now will be much closer to a 50-50 scenario between ocean and non ocean services” Chief Executive Soren Skou says. Maersk already runs 20 warehousing and distribution centers in California, New Jersey, Texas and Georgia. Five of them operate in the Southern California basin.

Maersk realizes that to meet the needs of Wal-Mart and Amazon they need to focus on a streamlined factory-to-store door or warehouse door service. Amazon is already in the Non Vessel Operating Common Carrier (NVOCC) business whereby they buy space on ships for their own use, but also sell unused space to other customers. They could soon contemplate buying and operating their own ocean carriers. Maersk is not alone in this strategic approach. Other major carriers like the French company CMA CGM are engaged in the same strategy extending their employment reach inland.  CMA CGM acquired CEVA Logistics in April.

Imagine if the resolution of the dustup in the Port of Los Angeles had been Maersk granting organizing rights to the ILWU in all its subsidiary warehouses and information service centers? This would result in hundreds if not thousands of new members and jobs, and it would solidly root the union beyond the waterfront and in the broader community. Most of these warehouse workers are low wage non-benefited immigrant workers. The rising demographic tide of Southern California would be embraced by the “Lords on the Docks” breaking their political and community isolation from the broader working class of the Southern California basin and establishing a long-term future for the union.

Peter Cole has done us a great service in his comparative history. He has demonstrated that the social and political context of unions is important in determining their course of struggle, and he has highlighted the great impact that dockers have had on social justice struggles.

The future can be written, not by doting on the docks but instead by embracing the ILWU’s history of the “March Inland”. The union must conceptualize itself as a logistics union and move beyond the waterfront to make new history! The survival of the union and its power depend on such a strategy, and the union’s history teaches that.

Fighting Trump/Building Socialism

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Bernie Sanders speaking to a healthcare rally outside the Capital. Photo: Jay Mallin

After Bernie lost the Democratic nomination in 2016, much of the Left felt that it was in a bind. Trump was a proto-fascist nut bag, but Clinton was a neoliberal hack. Many took their line from the liberal commentariat: Trump can’t possibly win (just look at him!). Therefore, the argument went, the Left is under no obligation to campaign against him, and hence for Clinton.

Adoloph Reed Jr., Arun Gupta, and Nelini Stamp were among those on the Left to make passionate public pleas to “support the neoliberal warmonger.”

The labor left, of course, made a clearer calculation. The Communications Workers of America, fresh on the heels of successfully striking Verizon and being the largest trade union to support Bernie Sanders in the presidential primary pivoted to fight Trump, pouring its ample resources into swing state efforts for Clinton. The composition of the courts alone makes the general election fight vital to the labor movement. The Working Families Party and Labor for Bernie did the same.

The effort of course, fell short. Donald Trump has now been our president for three years, and it’s not good.

I find myself constantly torn by how to characterize this administration. Living in a society that has put more people – disproportionately Black – in cages than any other in human history, it’s hard to see Trump as a rupture per se.

But on the other hand, he is a qualitatively different president than any we’ve seen in the past century. I’ve settled on the term “wanna be fascist” to describe him, but I increasingly wonder if I should drop the “wanna be.”

I hardly need to list the behaviors: child separation, concentration camps at the U.S.-Mexico border, U.S. troops used for civilian policing. And the “send her back” hate rallies, leading to death threats of a sitting Congressperson.

Lest we be calmed by Trump’s obvious incompetence, it turns out that Adolph Hitler was incompetent too.

So, what is the Left to do in 2020?

While some are stumping for Warren – the only other candidate in the race who regularly articulates a conflict with the ultra-rich – most of the left appears to be fighting for Bernie Sanders to win the Democratic primary. There is ample evidence that Bernie can win, and I just love his plodding, principled attack on the ruling elite of our society. I, too, am a Bernie guy, and I fear that the planet itself is at irrevocable risk if we don’t put him in office.

But if we give it everything we’ve got and Bernie loses, the Left absolutely must follow the lead of Bernie himself, the Communications Workers of America, and many, many, many other individuals and organizations, and continue to fight Trump through the general election. This may mean riding a horse that makes us deeply uncomfortable. Personally, I’d feel good about Warren and Inslee, and nauseous about the rest.

At its recent convention, the Democratic Socialists of America expressed this nausea about the rest of the Democratic field in the form of a resolution prohibiting the organization from formally backing anyone other than Bernie in the general election. Unsurprisingly, the term “Bernie or bust” made its way to a New York Times headline about DSA. I found the resolution off the mark for many reasons (What if Stacy Abrams entered the race and jumped in the polls? What if Bernie and Warren enter a brokered convention as allies?), but as a practical matter DSA is not a cadre organization: Its nearly 60,000 members vote with their feet, and what they and the rest of the Left will do in the unfortunate event of a Sanders loss is still an open question.

We must, in my view, fight our nausea at the bulk of the Democratic field, pivot tactically if Bernie does not win the nomination, and keep up the electoral war against Trump.

The nausea is completely understandable: even if working people and Black Americans made their biggest gains in the last century under Democratic rule in the 1930s and 1960s, Democratic politicians have been far from strong allies, especially during the neoliberal era. Clinton gave us NAFTA, Welfare Reform, and continued mass incarceration. And just this year, we witnessed the right wing of the party outmaneuver Speaker Pelosi to pass a Trump spending bill through the House – the Democrat’s only lever of power in Washington D.C. – providing billions in unrestricted funding to the president’s concentration camps.

And it goes without saying – but why let it? – that presidential elections are far from our only tool to fight against fascism and for a democratic economy and society. Movements, direct action, and strikes are in many ways the root of our power. Down ballot races are potent too: Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez has demonstrated how much a single congressional seat can do change the national conversation. And 2020 is a census year, meaning that the political composition of state houses will immediately translate into the shapes of our districts for the next decade.

Yet at the same time, the difference between a Democratic and Republican White House is unfathomably significant for poor and working people: the courts, the National Labor Relations Board, the tax rate, and simply the prospect of any meaningful social legislation. Under Trump, of course, putting any Democrat in the White House means an essential step toward pushing neo-Nazis and White Nationalists to the margins.

The U.S. two-party, presidential system is an odd and rigid one: it requires us to build our coalitions in the electorate rather than in government. If we lived in a parliamentary system, the Left could fight like hell for its congressional votes, and then use its leverage in government to help select a prime minister. But in the U.S. system, if we lose the primary – if Bernie loses the primary – our only hope at keeping a “wanna be fascist” from the most powerful position in the land is to fight him as part of an electoral coalition for a centrist Democrat. Not nearly as emotionally satisfying as parliamentary politics, but every bit as important.

Three years out, I can forgive those on the Left who were silent in the 2016 general election, and even those who were publicly opposed to supporting Hillary. The liberal commentariat was convincing, even to the Left: I certainly thought a Trump victory was unlikely.

But now we know better.

Trump can win, and he may well. It’s on us to do everything in our power to make sure he doesn’t. If we fail, you can be damn sure that “wanna be” will be an irrelevant modifier in term two.

Crushing fascists – especially those in one of the most powerful executive positions in the whole of human history – is an essential part of building democratic socialism.

This article is being simulataneously published by Standbury Forum and Organizing Upgrade

“Hielera”, “La Lista”: Notes from Tijuana

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“Maria” and I have been working on her asylum application for three hours. As I furiously write her answers in longhand on the asylum form, Maria asks, “Is it beautiful? Is America beautiful?

These have been tough hours together. Maria has described how she has been assaulted with a gun put to her head and how her gang member assailant threatened to rape her young daughters. She has told me how, as a child, her mother died of AIDs while she slept beside her. 

I look up and say, “yes, the mountains and the seashores are very beautiful”, and she smiles.

However, the only part of the U.S. that “Maria” has seen so far is a U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) holding pen called the “hielera” (icebox) where her common-law husband and her daughters spent uncomfortably cold days sleeping on the floor under Mylar blankets before the family was sent back across the border to Tijuana to wait for their first immigration court appearance in San Diego. And unless there is a successful legal challenge to AG William Barr’s July 22nd policy pronouncement Maria’s only future view of the U.S. will be from the window of a CBP bus bringing her to and from the San Diego Immigration Court. 

Less than 20% of Central American asylum cases were granted in 2018, and it’s virtually certain that since the DOJ implemented the “remain in Mexico” Migrant Protection Protocols (MPP) program this past winter, grants will further decrease. Of nearly 13,000 MPP asylum cases pending, only 1.3% were filed with legal assistance.

By the time migrants from Spanish-speaking countries, other than Mexico, have enrolled on “La Lista they have waited months in Tijuana for their number to be reached. Once they surrender to U.S. authorities, complet a lengthy process of master and individual Immigration Court hearings, they will have spent no less than 7 months waiting in Mexico. But that estimate is based on the very first MPP Central Americans, Cubans, Venezuelans and other Spanish-speakers who were processed earlier this year. Now the projected wait until that final court hearing when the overwhelming majority of asylum-seekers will have their claims denied and be deported back, is likely far more than a year. The present system is absolutely designed to discourage already desperate families to give up their claims and vanish into Mexico or elsewhere.

I interviewed “Juan” today.  He was a successful Guatemalan business who, when facing extortion and murder in Guatemala, fled to Mexico. Last month he and his family were kidnapped at gunpoint outside their hotel. Their assailants drove them south to Veracruz, imprisoned them in a house there, and then demanded $10,000 for their lives. A week after the kidnapping, ransom paid, the family was released in Veracruz and with the aid of strangers managed to make it back to Tijuana for their second U.S. court appearance. “Juan” told the Immigration Judge what had happened and he was passed back to CBP custody for a telephonic “credible fear interview” on why he was afraid to remain in Mexico pending his court proceedings. Found “not credible”, the family was returned to Mexico the next day.

Virtually none of our migrant clients will be able to secure legal representation at their merits court hearings, drastically limiting their chances of asylum grants. The CBP is required to provide a list of San Diego based immigrant legal advocacy groups for MPP asylum-seekers to call from Mexico. The migrants try. There are never any answers. The listed advocacy groups are already maxed-out, and can’t easily meet asylum-seekers while they reside in Mexico. An AOL intern recently observed an immigration court hearing where one of the four newly appointed immigration judges angrily responded to an asylum-seeker reporting he had repeatedly called all the numbers on the CBP-provided list and had not been able to reach any. The judge, who had once worked for Catholic Charities, said he didn’t believe the agency would fail to respond. By now there cannot be any San Diego judge that continues to believe this yet cases are continued to allow migrants more time to “seek legal counsel” while increasing their stay in Mexico.

What’s it like for asylum-seekers to remain in Tijuana between court hearings? 

Few have funds, and most stay in faith-based or philanthropic shelters where conditions range from abysmal to adequate. Some leave Tijuana to stay in Mexicali where it is cheaper and less dangerous. A considerable number, like “Maria”, have found jobs; she works at a taco stand. Some of the most visible migrants, Haitians and Africans, can be seen working as security guards at businesses in central Tijuana. Early mornings at the PedWest pedestrian crossing into San Ysidro, California, scores of Cameroonians gather, a few to initially enroll on “La Lista”, but most others to socialize. Or to say goodbye to new friends because their list numbers have been reached and they will be transferred by Mexican migration to CBP.

What is “La Lista”?

Here in Tijuana the only process that gives asylum-seekers an opportunity to surrender themselves to U.S. authorities at the border is through a metering system. Potential asylum-seekers must be enrolled on “La Lista”, a list maintained by the Mexican migration authorities, known as Grupos Beta. They recruit helpers—volunteers from among the migrants who are already registered and are waiting for their list number to be reached—to process the new asylum-seeking individuals and families who arrive each morning at “Chaparral”, more formally known as PedWest, the western-most pedestrian entrance to the U.S. linking Tijuana to San Ysidro.

”La Lista” has now reached the number 2769. Each number represents 10 people. These are migrants who have been able to present acceptable identity documents for themselves and family members to the volunteers and the Grupos Beta authorities. There is no legal authority for this metering system, but it has remained in place because it serves the purposes of CBP to assure that only a small, seemingly arbitrarily chosen number of asylum-seekers, will be permitted to pass into their custody each day. Yesterday, July 31st, only 31 people whose names were on La Lista were permitted to cross. Today it was 41.

Mexican migration policy forbids unaccompanied minors from having their names on the list. They have to be brought to PedWest by AOL volunteers to surrender there to the U.S. border officials who examine visitors at this pedestrian entrance. The volunteers have been harassed and threatened by CBP.

As of August 1, 2019, 37,590 people had signed onto La Lista in Tijuana since it’s initiation this past winter; in other words, 3,759 numbers had been given out. The people who crossed today signed onto the list on April 9th or 10th and had almost a four-month wait to cross over. Along the entire southern border, there are reportedly some 25,000 MPP migrants waiting; nearly 13,000 of their cases have already been filed with the San Diego immigration court. 

The Grupos Beta agents who supervise the list sometimes reject identity documents for spurious reasons and will not allow some migrants to put their name on the list. For instance, the identity document of a man from an African country was rejected because he was told the photo did not look like him. 

Asylum-seekers whose numbers have been called on a particular day are taken in a Grupos Beta van to PedEast, the CBP entry point a few miles away. Once in CBP custody, the migrants are placed in the “hielera” (icebox), a detention cell deliberately kept at an uncomfortably cold temperature for a stay from 2 days to 2 1/2 weeks. Food consists of one sandwich or a burrito 3 times a day. Adults are allowed only one layer of clothing; children are permitted to have a second layer. They will sleep on the floor with Mylar “blankets” nearly on top of one another because of limited space.

At the end of their “hielera “ confinement, the migrants will be separated into two main groups. Those who are nationals of Spanish-speaking countries, but for Mexico, will be designated as MPPs (Migrant Protection Protocols), processed and returned to Mexico to await Immigration court dates. CBP officers will conduct only basic intake interviews with MPPs rather than the “credible fear” interviews the rest of the Tijuana asylum-seekers will have. The interview is recorded in a Q&A form and reflects both the bias of the interviewing CBP officer and their disinterest in the long asylum narratives that the migrants try to relate.

The actual “credible fear interviews” are normally conducted by U.S. Citizen and Immigration Services (USCIS) Asylum Officers after non-MPP Tijuana asylum-seekers are transferred from CBP custody to ICE detention facilities. Because they fear returning to Mexico Mexican nationals seeking asylum are not included in the MPP program. Instead they will be kept in detention with Tijuana migrants who are mostly from Africa, predominately Cameroon. Those migrants that seek to cross over in Tijuana rarely include citizens of Asian countries or Brazil. They have included Haitians who’s numbers have declined.

Before the CBP transfers the designated MPP migrants back to Tijuana they will be given a “Notice to Appear” in the San Diego Immigration Court in 2 to 4 months for a master calendar hearing. 

On the day of their hearing migrants must arrive at the Chaparral/PedWest entry point at 4:30 AM to cross into the U.S. and then transported to San Diego for a 9 AM court appearance. At the end of day, they will be transported back to Tijuana where they will wait for their next court date.

The Master Calendar Hearing

What happens at the first master calendar hearing varies depending on which of the four San Diego-based Immigration Judges is handling the case. All asylum-seekers (called “respondents” in the courtroom) are asked if they have legal counsel, and if not whether they want additional time to obtain counsel. Some “respondents” knowing it will be virtually impossible to secure representation ask to proceed without an attorney. Some judges will reschedule the appearance anyway insisting the “respondent” search harder. All will be instructed to submit a completed and complex asylum application form (I-589), in English, providing the legal basis for their asylum claim. At a second or third master calendar hearing the judge may take pleadings, meaning the “respondent” must admit or deny the allegations of illegal entry and removability. Eventually the judge will set a court date, likely many months hence, for an individual “merits” hearing—a trial. Judges have been scheduling two hearing times per day, but warning applicants that multiple asylum-seekers will have the same slot and therefore it is entirely possible that their individual hearing may be re-scheduled for a far-off future date. Thus, for most current applicants, the process from first to last court may well take far more than year during which the MPP asylum-seeker must remain— often without any resources and in dangerous circumstances— in Mexico or elsewhere.

Documents, Lawyers, Detention

The court documents given to applicants by CBP, called “Notices to Appear” (NTAs), are largely defective because one of the three boxes, arriving alien; present in the U.S. without inspection; or lawfully admitted but removable; are being deliberately omitted on many NTAs. Nevertheless, Immigration Judges are taking pleadings and moving forward on these cases based on the factual allegations and charge of removability.

In San Diego no immigration court “merits hearing” of a “remain in Mexico” MPP asylum seeker’s case has yet been held. The first of these final hearings are scheduled for October 2019. However court proceedings for more than 1000 MPP cases have already been terminated because the respondent failed to appear. Or found Mexican employment and decided to remain there. Or never received notice of a changed hearing date. Or the NTA was deemed defective. As reported in the LA Times and NY Times, of the terminated cases, only 14 respondents (1.3%) had legal representation). In the 12,997 cases yet pending, only 163 (1.3%) were able to file asylum applications with legal assistance.

Most all non-MPP asylum seekers surrendering or caught crossing through Tijuana or elsewhere on the California-Mexico border are transferred to Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) detention centers anywhere in the U.S. There they will have “credible fear” interviews (CFIs), albeit telephonically, with USCIS Asylum Officers. The time frame between their arrival at the detention center and the CFI interview varies widely, from a few days, to over a month. If successful the applicant will remain in detention until the master and individual hearings in the nearest Immigration Court are concluded, or will be released to a sponsor: a relative or friend with legal status and permission to work in the U.S. and they must check in with the local ICE office. 

Since March of this year when the MPP program was expanded to Texas, asylum-seekers returned to Mexico from El Paso, and now Laredo, have experienced the same difficulties and injustices Tijuana MPP migrants.

What is most hopeful, in a seemingly hopeless situation, is the continuing advocacy and dedication of hundreds of attorneys, paralegals, and volunteers from organizations assisting migrants in border areas — Al Otro Lado in Tijuana, RAICES in Texas, Catholic Legal Immigration Network, Inc. (CLINIC) countrywide, Immigrant Defenders in Los Angeles, Proyecto Corazon, Immigrant Resource Legal Center ( ILRC), , and many more. 

If you are wondering how to help, and you are an attorney, or proficient in Spanish, even if you do not have immigration law experience, consider volunteering at Al Otro Lado in Tijuana, or RAICES in Texas. Fundraising, especially to benefit Al Otro Lado in Tijuana, is especially needed. This wonderful non-profit desperately needs more staff to assist and represent the Tijuana migrant community. Feel free to contact me for more information about volunteer opportunities or funding. Or go to alotrolado.org

About the author

Jill Stanton

Jill Stanton is a retired immigration attorney with 25 years of past practice representing asylum applicants at the USCIS Asylum Office & in Immigration Court in San Francisco. She has volunteered with Al Otro Lado in Tijuana, Mexico, as well as with RAICES in Texas. View all posts by Jill Stanton →

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Organizing Railroad Track Workers in Yuma last week….

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Last week my travels across the continent and among railroad track workers found me between Phoenix and East L.A. This section of Union Pacific’s rail network is the western end of the famed “Sunset Route”, running roughly along the Mexican Border. With a brand new union rep from Sacramento at the wheel, our task was to find as many members of the Brotherhood of Maintenance of Way (BMWED-IBT) as we could.

As we barreled across the heat stricken desolation, there were glum reminders of dystopian America along the route: remote desert prisons, and forgotten desert towns in various states of abandon despite their glorious names of Aztec, Mohawk, or Ligurta. 

On the eastern approach to Yuma the infamous Border Wall arose in the distance. As we neared it, the footprints all over the barren sand landscape were impossible to ignore.

RV parks arose from the desert sand like another surreal hellish nightmare. After four of these monstrosities in a row, I blurted out, “Who has money these days to pay for RV gas?” We were about to find out.

At the Yuma depot we found a four member “Headquarter Gang.” In the 5am “cool” of 95F, our conversation revolved around the next round of negotiations with the Class 1 Freight Railroads. The members filled out contract surveys, and recounted the successes and challenges they experienced uniting the 13 different craft unions in their area.

Eventually, the role of the U.S. President in rail negotiations came up. The 2nd round of the Democratic Party debates were kicking off that night.

Juan C. asked, “Are we going to have to deal with Trump again?”

“This is really crazy,” he continued. “Even Mexico has a President who is good for the people. Did you hear what AMLO did with the pensions?”

“No.” I responded, somewhat in awe that I was now talking about Mexican President Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador – known as AMLO – with an American railroader!

“My grandmother lives outside Mexicali. Her pension recently went up from 600 pesos [$30] to 2000 pesos! AMLO made that possible. He cut waste in the federal government to find the money to afford this. It’s not a lot of money, but to my grandmother it means everything!”

From there the conversation returned to healthcare. Like most union workers, railroaders have been slammed with escalating health insurance costs – a reality lost on many Democratic Party candidates, we learned from the debates, who mistakenly think union members are in love with their employer-based insurance.

Members of the BMWED, whose monopolistic employers clock billions of dollars in profits per quarter, now pay $228.89 per month in premiums and an Out-Of-Pocket Maximum in hospital bills of $4000 per year. BMWED members are almost universally pissed.

Evidently Mexico is a point of refuge for many Americans on this front.

“My wife and I take our children to Los Algodones to go to the dentist and get eye glasses. I often go there to see the doctor – the guy I see is really good. He went to school at UC Riverside,” said Jose C.

Evidently, the RV parks on the outskirts of Yuma cater mainly to “Snow Birds” who drive across the Border to Mexico (a short, 10 minute drive) for affordable health care and medicines. The approach to Los Algodones is often backed up with cars and RVs bearing American license plates. (Editor’s note: many of these same “Snow Birds” supplement their income by seasonal migrant work in mass distribution centers run by the likes of Amazon, again living in their RVs)

Unfortunately, while proximity to a country with a far more sane health care approach works for our members in Yuma – this is not the case for the overwhelming majority of railroaders or Americans. For this very reason, the BMWED first endorsed “Medicare For All” in 2014, and aggressively organizes its members to engage with the campaign to win MFA across the country.

About the author

Carey Dall

Carey Dall recently returned to the International Longshore and Warehouse Union (ILWU) from the Brotherhood of Maintenance of Way (BMWED-IBT), where he was the Organizing Director for 7 years. The BMWED represents track and structure maintenance workers on the major railroads in all of the lower 48 states. He got his start in the labor movement as a “Salt” working with the ILWU to organize bike and driver messengers in the SF Bay Area. View all posts by Carey Dall →

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Opinion: Gig economy workers must be ‘in the room where it happens’

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Editor’s Note: My friend and fellow Red Sox fan Bill Gould wrote a piece on the Uber/Ride Share issue back when the spotlight was on the legislature and Assembly Bill 5. A crowded queue prevented us from running it then, but the outcome of the legislative resolution of the California Supreme Court Dynamex decision is still in doubt so here is Professor Gould’s perspective. 

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How Democrats, labor should react to grand bargain resulting from Dynamex decision

Uber, Lyft and the burgeoning ride-sharing industry are confronted with the 2018 California Supreme Court Dynamex ruling that will convert their drivers from independent contractors who possess no benefits and low wages into employees immediately covered by the nation’s panoply of labor laws.

The Legislature is considering AB 5, which would codify the Dynamex ruling. This has driven the industry to seek a legislative bailout from the Democratic supermajority and organized labor in Sacramento.

Ride-sharing companies had already convinced the Trump administration’s National Labor Relations Board that the drivers are entrepreneurs and thus exempt from federal labor’s promise of a right to organize and bargain collectively.

But the Dynamex ruling threatens their ticket to super profits. Ride-sharing companies fear the prospect of higher fares for the public and lower wages for the already disgruntled, sometimes demonstrating drivers. The companies require more control to assuage investors and the stock market.

Their proposed solution: The long-discussed and debated industry-wide portable benefits and a third classification that cuts across the existing employee-independent contractor demarcation line and which those companies say would benefit from portable benefits.

Aside from the influence from their backers’ enormous wealth, Uber and Lyft hold another card — the U.S. Supreme Court rulings that allow them to prohibit class action lawsuits (the major strength of workers who attempt to implement employment laws) through so-called individual arbitrations. This, they believe will permit them to negotiate a grand bargain for ride share and the gig economy.

The companies also hold another card — the false fear that they have been able to instill in many drivers that if they lose their role as contractors, they will lose the flexibility to work when they want. Countless labor law rulings are to the contrary.

Organized labor and Democrats should say yes and no to the grand bargain.

They should say yes to the idea of industry-wide benefits, if adequate, but no to the implicit acceptance of the drivers’ exclusion from the right to bargain and and band together.

California should enact a law similar to a still stalled Seattle ordinance, which establishes collective bargaining for drivers.

A Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals ruling has made it clear the states may legislate to promote or enforce agreements involving non/employees and their bosses that would otherwise violate antitrust law’s prohibition against agreements between business people on wages or prices. The same conservative panel of judges addressing the Seattle case said the ride-hailing labor law, like those involving agricultural labor, aren’t preempted by exclusive federal law.

The point here is that some representative process — call it collective bargaining or something different — must administer and formulate benefits so as to ensure the drivers and public that they, in the words of Alexander Hamilton, “are in the room where it happens”.

The Seattle process points the way. Judicial precedent allows California to act. But this leads to the most important point of all.

It is the parties, particularly the drivers themselves, who must decide what is best for them as they attempt to retain flexibility and place bread on the table. A mechanism ought to be established which, in their view is fair and adequate. Otherwise litigation, however flawed, should proceed under a Dynamex banner, however torn by the limitations of individual arbitration.

First published via the Bay Area News Group

A Plant Closing War, Viewed From Inside

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Editors Note: The interview historian Myrna Santiago, a Stansbury Forum contributor, and immigrants’ rights specialist Alicia Rusoja have done about the border can be heard here.

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Last winter, protestors wearing yellow vests commanded center stage in France. Their grassroots challenge to the neoliberal regime of President Emmanuel Macron drew on a long tradition of labor militancy, including factory-closing fights. When these protestors still had blue-collar jobs and belonged to unions, they probably looked a lot more like the red-vest-wearing strikers in At War.

At War, a new movie from Cinema Libre Studio, vividly portrays shop floor resistance to corporate power in small-town France. The dialogue is in French with English subtitles. But the cast is largely actual factory workers. And the film opens with a scene familiar to anyone ever involved in manufacturing union bargaining in the U.S.

A workforce of 1,100 employed in a rural auto parts plant has already agreed to 8 million Euros worth of givebacks to keep the place open. The Agen plant is still profitable but, according to management, no longer globally competitive. So now, the fictional Perrin Industries is terminating its local job protection deal that was the quid pro quo for labor concessions. By order from corporate headquarters in Germany, the factory will be closed and production shifted elsewhere.

Before meeting with the company about this sudden decision, union delegates hold a tense caucus among themselves. There is palpable anger and a sense of betrayal. Their principal shop floor leader is Laurent, played by award-winning French actor Vincent Lindon. Laurent, a fiery speaker, tries to lay down initial ground rules that include “no insulting management.” Instead, he urges everyone to “fight intelligently.”

Bargaining table restraint doesn’t last long when the plant manager informs union negotiators that “it’s not bosses versus workers anymore. It’s all of us together in the same boat.” As Laurent angrily points out, the area around Agen is already an “employment wasteland,” with few new job opportunities. Severance packages are not what the workers want. They intend to fight for the jobs they already have.

The rest of this hyper-realistic film depicts a factory occupation and a public campaign to keep the plant open. Few movies have ever done a better job of capturing the rollercoaster ride of a long strike, plus the look, sound, and feel of local union life, viewed from the inside.

Road Warriors

Among the challenges facing workers in any plant closing fight is getting public officials on their side, even in situations where the employer has benefited from past state subsidies or tax incentives. (“The Constitution protects private enterprise,” one French government envoy primly reminds the Perrin workers.)

The strikers in At War become “road warriors,” a group of roving union activists who travel to seek support and put pressure on targets elsewhere. They confront riot police during a mass demonstration at the Confederation of Industries in Paris. They defy an unfavorable court ruling and send roving pickets to shut down a sister plant 500 miles away. They solicit strike fund donations from other embattled union members. “Hello Perin workers,” says one message of solidarity, arriving at strike headquarters with a check enclosed. “We have the same assholes running our firm.”

Throughout their struggle, they seek a face-to-face meeting with the German CEO of the Dimke Group, the parent company of Perrin, which has decided to close the Agen plant instead of selling it, as the strikers demand. Meanwhile, heated exchanges between worker representatives and their management counterparts continue at the bargaining table, as workers and their families face mounting economic pressure.

Two months into the strike, fissures develop between the various labor organizations represented in the plant—the FO, CGT, and a less militant enterprise union. Laurent discovers that the company unionists, worn out and discouraged, have been side-barring with management about “bumping up the check” (i.e. getting a better severance deal in return for accepting the plant closing).

Laurent and his outspoken ally Melanie accuse their co-workers of “licking the bosses’ boots.” But both face wider doubts about the viability of their strike strategy and leadership. “The plant’s closing down. It’s done,” says Bruno, a bargaining committee member ready to throw in the towel. With police and management protection, Bruno and others take off their strike stickers (which proclaim the unity of “1,100 in Struggle”) and return to work.

A “Quality Dialogue?”

Nevertheless, the struggle briefly takes a brighter turn when Martin Hauser, the German CEO, finally agrees to a meeting mediated by the French ministry of employment. Hauser proves to be a world-class corporate smoothie, fluent in French. He mentions that he has a French mother-in-law and a second home in the French countryside. He welcomes what he calls a “quality dialogue” (of the German labor relations sort).

That “dialogue” deteriorates fast when the Dimke Group dismisses a rival firm’s “unrealistic” offer to buy the Agen plant. “French law requires an owner to look for buyers, but does not require them to accept any offer,” Hauser reminds the trade unionists. In exasperation, the CEO accuses them of “refusing to see market reality,” which he likens to “demanding a whole new world, or living in another world.”

It’s not union negotiators who have the final word in this frustrating exchange. After the meeting an angry crowd of strikers make the evening news by surrounding Hauser’s car and over-turning it. The CEO and two bodyguards emerge bloodied and shaken up. In the ensuing media and political backlash, union members are thrown on the defensive, leading to bitter personal accusations and recriminations.

At War pulls no punches about the personal sacrifices and weighty responsibilities of workers who become strike leaders. This film should be required viewing during union training of shop stewards, local officers, and bargaining committee members.

Cinema Libre Studio wants to reach a much broader audience now that the film has opened in New York, Los Angeles and other cities. It’s looking for labor organizations to sponsor showings to their own members. Let’s hope that some unions take advantage of this offer—because the war on workers, whether in France or the U.S., shows no sign of letting up.

For more information on screening the film before a labor audience, contact Jen Smith at jsmith@cinemalibrestudio.com or 818-588-3033.

About the author

Steve Early

Steve Early was an early member of Labor Party Advocates, a pre-curser to Tony Mazzocchi’s Labor Party. He’s been involved with the Communications Workers of America, as a national staffer or rank-and-file member, since 1980. He was a co-founder of Labor for Bernie and has written six books about labor, politics, or veterans affairs. He can be reached at Lsupport@aol.com View all posts by Steve Early →

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“Who would agree to sponsor them?”

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Update: NYT Business of 31 July, 2019 reports the giant public relations firm Edelman dropped the GEO Group account after employees at the firm objected to the contract. In what is perhaps a “choke point” for this business sector the company was afraid the association would damage the very nature of their business, their “public image”, and hurt their bottom line.
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“In his one-year odyssey, by plane from Congo to Cuba, to Guyana, and thereafter by bus through the American continents, he had learned Spanish by necessity”

In early June, 2019, I was in San Antonio volunteering with RAICES, the largest pro-bono provider of immigration legal services in Texas. I worked alongside RAICES staff and fellow volunteers assisting immigrants at the Greyhound Bus Station and a nearby immigrant resource center maintained by the San Antonio Interfaith Welcome Coalition with funding from the San Antonio City Council, and at an ICE (Immigration & Customs Enforcement) Detention Center in Karnes.

The work at Karnes was grueling for both volunteers and staff. We would leave San Antonio at 8 AM for the one-hour drive to the rural facility, and would not return until around 9:30 at night. When detention officers had the women immigrants available to be interviewed (sometimes we were forced to wait an hour or more as detention protocol required that we could only see the next person on our visitation list, even though a second or third immigrant was already waiting for us), we worked virtually non-stop to complete as many as 10 intakes and interview preps under the time pressure that if we didn’t get through them all, some women would have their asylum interviews before they understood the process and/or legal representation at their “credible fear” interview could be arranged. On my days at Karnes, I returned to San Antonio with the still unfinished task of summarizing my handwritten case notes, and getting them off to the RAICES staff that would represent the interviewed women as their cases progressed. After a week at Karnes, the more relaxed pace of my work at the bus station was a blessing.

One of the deepest impressions of my two weeks in Texas were of the ebb and flow of the massive migrant crossings, & how migrants of particular nationalities by sharing information on social media and through phone communications, were able to meet & group up at certain border checkpoints despite months of traveling alone, or with family, through multiple south and central American countries. This was particularly the case with a group of about 25 Congolese migrants whom I met at the San Antonio immigrant resource center. I communicated in Spanish with one young man, accompanied by his preteen daughter. In his one-year odyssey, by plane from Congo to Cuba, to Guyana, and thereafter by bus through the American continents, he had learned Spanish by necessity.

Shared information helped the Congolese to get to the same border crossing point, but shared misinformation resulted in their being stuck in San Antonio, hanging out at the resource center by day, & sleeping in a church near the bus station at night. Having no family or friends in the U.S., each had provided ICE with the same “sponsor” information–an agency in Portland, Maine where Congolese granted refugee status had been assisted in the past. But the agency only had a government contract to temporarily house refugees—migrants approved by the USCIS (U.S. Citizenship & Immigration Services) abroad for resettlement–and could not accept these new asylum seekers. Who would agree to sponsor them?  Where would they be able to settle? No one knew; everyone was scrabbling.

“Karnes’ 2300 oil wells have polluted the water table to such an extent that they took declarations of immigrant inmates who drank, and showered in the local water, developing skin diseases and illnesses.”

The greatest surprise of my time in Texas was that the largest number of incoming migrant women at Karnes were not the expected Hondurans & other Central Americans, but Cubans. Like the Congolese, their shared information had them arriving in large numbers at particular checkpoints at the Texas border. Their staggering presence was new for the RAICES staff and a question was why now–more than two years after the 1/17 end of the policy that had previously permitted any Cuban who made it to U.S. shores or illegally over the border to apply for permanent residency after just one year here? Most of the Cubans had extended family in the U.S.  Were their relatives suggesting, or was word going out through social media that it was now or never? Was political repression in Cuba on the rise? (Most of the incidents of personal persecution related to us were reported by the Cubans as having taken place in the last 6 months.) The Cuban asylum claims were in stark contrast to those of the Central and South Americans, as I will explain further below.

This was the first time I ever did immigration work in a private prison, and that was an unwelcome revelation as well. Karnes Detention Center is one of more than 10 immigrant detention facilities in Texas, and is managed by GEO Group, a Florida- based corporation “specializing in privatized corrections, detentions & mental health” both in the U.S. and abroad. GEO Group was a donor to Trump’s campaign, and the recipient of 1.3 billion in federal contracts during this administration. The single story facility at Karnes, with artificial turf and flowers at its entrance, sits amongst pastures pocketed with small active pump-jack oil wells–and the mansions of the ranchers who own them. A RAICES lawyer tells me that Karnes’ 2300 oil wells have polluted the water table to such an extent that they took declarations of immigrant inmates who drank, and showered in the local water, developing skin diseases and illnesses.

The populations of Karnes and other Texas detention centers shifts with the numbers and composition of the crossing migrants, & the resulting policies and politics of the DHS. When I signed on to volunteer at Karnes 3 months ago, the inmates were fathers and sons; since April, 2019, the facility has only held immigrant women.

In a large room with immovable tables meant for prison visits, RAICES staff and volunteers—law students, lawyers, Spanish linguists, and Spanish-speaking academics–met with women inmates and explained the legal representation RAICES provided to prepare them for their “credible fear interview”—an administrative “Q & A” regarding their asylum claims with a San Antonio Asylum Officer.

We explained that during this interview, while the women would relate intensely personal and often traumatic incidents, they would be alone in a detention room with a telephone to connect them with the USCIS Asylum Officer. A translator would also be engaged by phone. If there was sufficient time between the receipt of their asylum interview notice & their permitted call to RAICES to allow RAICES staff & their partner, Project Corazon, to make arrangements with an attorney who could be present at the day and hour indicated, their legal representation would come via phone as well. However, too often interview notices were delivered only a day, or less, prior to the interview time. We urged the women we spoke with to insist on their legal right to postpone the interview to a future date until they were represented, but many, out of intimidation, impatience, or the misplaced certainty that all that was required to prevail was to tell their compelling history, did not. The transcripts of NCFI’s (negative credible fear interview determinations)—cases where immigrant asylum claims were denied by Asylum Officers—illustrated how confused applicants could get during a difficult interview—so much so that they appeared unresponsive, and therefore “not credible.”

And, And, And …

We were tasked with prepping the women for their credible fear interviews, which required that we help them to understand that asylum could not be granted simply because they or their family members had endured horrific persecution. They had to demonstrate that their fear of persecution was “on account of their race, nationality, religion, political opinion, or membership in a particular social group. And that governmental authorities were unwilling or unable to protect them. And they could not safely relocated elsewhere in their country. Thus, the story of a young Salvadoran woman who fled after an unsuccessful robbery because she absolutely believed that she would be targeted by the surveilling robbers in the future, or a Guatemalan woman receiving a very credible threat of future harm from her sister’s rapist after her sister had fled, was unlikely to ground a successful claim. (Details of any asylum case I relate have been changed to protect client confidentiality.)  In discussion, we had to tease out further details–were the persecutors members of a local or national gang, was the woman being targeted because of her indigenous or minority background, were the local or national police force in league with the cartel, & if so, how did they know that?

The contrast between the asylum stories of the two largest nationality groups at Karnes — Hondurans and Cubans— could not have been greater. The Hondurans, and also the Salvadorans and Guatemalans, mostly feared being shot & murdered by gangs who had killed family members & threatened to do the same to them. Some had brought the death certificates of loved ones as proofs, and “denuncias”— police reports of being extorted, recruited, or raped & enslaved by gangs & cartels. Few had a significant chance of winning their cases: political asylum cases based on gang violence are rarely granted. Most fled soon after the receipt of death threats, because even though they may have reported these incidents to police, they were too terrified to remain to wait to see if the police, who were often working with local gangs, such as MS-13 which has a multinational presence, would arrest their gang or cartel persecutors. The Venezuelans were more likely to have accounts where they were targeted because of imputed or actual political opinion (e.g. opposition to the government of President Maduro resulting in the loss of government employment and, repercussions for protest activities–beatings, death threats, kidnappings–by the pro-Maduro vigilantes, known as “collectivos.” 

The persecution the Cubans reported was very different. It was, by their account, largely for failure to participate in civic and political activities, or for unsanctioned private businesses, and included baton beatings & detentions by local police, exclusion from government jobs & university courses, and surveillance and harassment by officials of the CDRs (neighborhood-based Committees for the Defense of the Revolution). Unlike the accounts of political opponents in other countries who had participated in mass demonstrations or protests, many of the Cuban accounts of persecution were of personal or family targeting as “counter-revolutionaries” due to having relatives who had escaped to the U.S. or had been detained in a thwarted escape attempt, or due to unsuccessful applications for U.S. visas. The reported acts of persecution were frequently sparked by verbal confrontations with low-level officials such as talking back to CDR officers and police & expressing disgust with unjust accusations of theft or illegal business activities, or by deliberately provocative acts—a dissident’s display of a U.S. flag, party music played during the national mourning period following Castro’s funeral.

The San Antonio Greyhound bus station

The San Antonio Greyhound bus station is where asylum-seekers from Karnes and another detention center in Dilley, Texas, are dropped off by ICE if they pass their “credible fear interviews”. But the majority of the immigrants I see during my two days at the bus station have been brought directly from the CBP (Customs and Border Patrol) outposts on the border. These are parents with young children whom the DHS has decided not to detain for initial asylum interviews in large part because of the humanitarian restrictions placed on the incarceration of minors in a 1997 federal court settlement decision (Flores). However, if there were both a mom and dad with the kids at the border crossing, it is likely that the family was separated, and one of the parents was detained.

If the immigrants had no resources for airline or bus tickets to reach to the cities where sponsors awaited, or if they were waiting for sponsor funds, or as in the case of the large group of Congolese, they had no sponsors, the families hung out by day in the make-shift resource center, run by San Antonio’s Interfaith Welcome Coalition, and if they had no place to go, slept in churches at night.

These families were predominantly Honduran, Guatemalan and Salvadoran. In their backpacks and bagged possessions each family had a clear plastic envelope with ICE paperwork indicating the address of the ICE deportation office where they would report at their destination, as well as the Immigration Court address where their asylum case would be heard. Hopefully, though not always, the ICE office and Immigration Court were located near where they would live with family or friends during what would be at least a year-long asylum process. They process culminates in a final court date where most, if 2018 statistics of an 80% denial rate continued, would likely have their asylum cases denied.

“Sometimes sponsors backed out after being contacted by ICE, leaving families with no place to go.”

Volunteers behind a long counter at the resource center tried to figure out how immigrants could get to their destination by bus or plane. Departures for volunteer rides to the San Antonio airport were posted on white boards behind them, as were the bus schedules for the nearby Greyhound station. Periodically volunteers with bullhorns would come through the two large rooms where migrants were waiting and announce departures. Children were constantly underfoot, many happily playing with new toys or coloring books; others napped on quilts and clothes on the floor. Money, largely coming from a Catholic Charities fund, had to be allocated for tickets for families without funds. Sometimes sponsors backed out after being contacted by ICE, leaving families with no place to go. The wonderful RAICES social worker I worked with was unsuccessful in dissuading a young woman not to go to a home offered by a woman she had met on Facebook, or to convince another woman with a baby not to travel some 1000 miles to the town where a distant relative had stopped answering her calls.

Once immigrants were routed to the Greyhound bus station, the Interfaith Coalition volunteers filled out a form called “la mapa” for them. The map grid explained each bus they needed to take to make it to their destination, and its departure time. Volunteers also provided families with a backpack gift with blankets & packed lunches, as well as stuffed animals & toys for the kids. RAICES volunteers like myself went around with a “pink sheet”; we reviewed ICE paperwork to write down where and when migrants were to report to ICE once at their destination. We also made sure they understood how using an 800 number to find out the date and place of their first Immigration Court hearing. This was especially important because there were mistakes: some folks were going to one place, but had ICE appointments in another state far away.  We tried to explain how to try to deal with situations like this, as failure to report to ICE would probably result in their future incarceration. Failure to present themselves at a first Immigration Court hearing would result in an in absentia deportation order. But first we had to break it all down by trying to explain the difference between reporting to ICE ( “la migra, la policia, no son amistades”) and the Immigration Court, where they would have to open up and present the very personal details of their asylum case. Explaining this & other essential information to over-stressed immigrants often with limited education who barely knew the name of the town to which they were headed, had to be overwhelming and bewildering for them.

There is far more to report than I’ve been able to put into these few pages. For instance at Karnes and other Geo-Group facilities immigrants are “permitted” to perform paid work for $1 an hour cleaning the detention facility.

There are too many unanswered questions about what will happen in the future–not least because of the threat of further cutting of government monies for immigrant services and continued privatization of the incarceration system. From what I observed of the young dedicated staff of RAICES (median age late 20’s), that organization despite an enormously successful Facebook Go Fund Me campaign that raised more than $20 million last year, is struggling to provide the amount of legal and logistical support needed by the immigrants to Texas. For instance, to avoid burn-out from 12 hour days at Karnes Detention Center, RAICES lawyers and paralegals are rotated so that none does the trip more than twice weekly, legal volunteers and linguists flesh out RAICES commitment to the detained immigrants to try to assure each is seen, their story heard, and that they receive future legal representation.

Is this sustainable? What will happen in San Antonio when city council funds run out? What if volunteers–either at Karnes and other detention facilities or the bus station and resource center– no longer assist in their present large numbers? What will happen to the immigrants at their destinations when faced with a lack of legal resources to represent them in Immigration Courts in a system where in 2018 98% show up for their immigration hearings but only 20-35% of their asylum applications were granted?

This border saga will continue…..

About the author

Jill Stanton

Jill Stanton is a retired immigration attorney with 25 years of past practice representing asylum applicants at the USCIS Asylum Office & in Immigration Court in San Francisco. She has volunteered with Al Otro Lado in Tijuana, Mexico, as well as with RAICES in Texas. View all posts by Jill Stanton →

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Coal Town

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Editor’s note: Mik Critchlow’s work stopped me cold the first time I saw it. Given that Britain has been a second home for me for the last 31 years and I am both a producer and consumer of images, it buggers the imagination how I failed to know about Mik’s work. All the more so because he has for all that time covered subjects similar to myself. But in fact I didn’t up until about 2 months ago. Mik currently has a Kickstarter campaign for his forthcoming book, ‘Coal Town’ to be published by highly acclaimed documentary photo-book publisher Bluecoat Press. Join me in supporting this book at a very reasonable price by visiting the funding site directly blow.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/408499994/coal-town
‘Mining Apprentices – Ashington Colliery’ 1981

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Throughout 42 years of my career as a documentary photographer I have always concentrated my projects on the experience of working class people living in marginalised communities throughout the United Kingdom. It was inevitable really, given that I came from a working class background.

 I left high school in 1970 at the age of 15 years without any academic qualifications and went straight into the workplace two days after leaving school, gaining full -time employment as a tailor’s trimmer at a local clothing factory. I immediately joined the trade union and soon became an activist within the factory. I once instigated a one day wildcat strike while there, in support of a fellow worker who had been given the sack by management for complaining about working conditions on the factory floor, he was later reinstated. I didn’t make it full term on my trial employment period and was advised to leave by the management.

From there, I went straight into the Merchant Navy as a cabin boy and worked my way through the ranks to become a Steward/Cook, always active within the National Union of Seamen.

Deciding to leave my life at sea in 1977, I enrolled on two year course at my local College studying Art History and Graphic design as a mature student, I soon became President of the College Union and continued my activism within the education sector. It was while at college that I picked up a camera for the first time and immediately fell in love with the medium and process of photography.

I then began to take photographs in my local area. Everything was beginning to make sense to me in terms of documenting ordinary people within the situations I found myself, I was recording the everyday events and people within my community. Later in 1978 I visited the Side Gallery in Newcastle Upon Tyne who were exhibiting the entire collection of Henri Cartier Bresson’s prints from the V&A Museum. In many ways this was an epiphany to me to continue the work, which I was undertaking. It taught me a great deal about the benchmark for producing a body of work in the wider sense. Shortly after this visit I was awarded an exhibition commission, for a local arts organisation, to develop my earlier work into a more cohesive sequence documenting the lives of people living and working within a mining community. This was continued in 1979 when I received grant funding from Northern Arts (Arts Council of England) to produce more documentary photography work in the area.

Top image: ‘Colliery Housing – Chevington Drift’ Northumberland 1979
Bottom Left: ‘Last Man Out – Last Shift Woodhorn Colliery’ 1981
Bottom Right: ‘Micky Sparrow – Office Cleaner – Woodhorn Colliery’ 1981
Micky was a miner who lost his right arm in an underground accident in the 1960s – promised a job for life on his return to the surface, he was redeployed as a cleaner in the Colliery managers offices. This was to be the last day of his working life as the mine was closed down.

In 1980 I was commissioned by Side Gallery and taken under their wings as a photographer, through this association with Amber/Side I was introduced to Chris Killip, Graham Smith and Sirkka Liisa Konttinen, who were also producing long term projects on the working class communities of the North East of England. They taught me to have faith in the work I was producing and that by being a documentary photographer was a way of life and not just a vocation/job.

Director of Amber Films, the late Murray Martin stated: Integrate life and work and friendship. Don’t tie yourself to institutions. Live cheaply and you’ll remain free. And, then, do whatever it is that gets you up in the morning”. *

Top: ‘Winning Brass Band – Northumberland Miners Picnic’ 1983
Bottom: ‘Una’s – First Avenue – Ashington’ 1978

I truly believe that being born and educated in an area gives you a better insight into the lives of people and the environment which you are photographing. Many of the people I photographed were known to me as people with whom I had first-hand knowledge; had met regularly on the streets, went to school with, drank in the same bars and clubs. I was never seen as a threat to their privacy, I was known only as someone who always had a camera. I always made work prints to give to people whom I’d photographed, to continue the relationship further and make other introductions, to enter into other situations/environments that might otherwise have been closed to other photographers who were seen as ‘outsiders’.

I come from a traditional mining family going right back to my Great Great Grandfather who travelled from Cornwall to Staffordshire. My Great Grandfather relocated to Ashington in the 1850’s with his family to begin work in the local mines. It’s a fourth generation thing: my grandfathers, father and my two brothers, as well as my uncles and cousins, have all worked within the coal mining industry. This helped me greatly to gain access to the local collieries and the men and women who worked there. When asked my name I would always be greeted with a smile “I know your Dad/Uncle/Brother”, it helped to break the ice as far as making photographs was concerned, my reasons for being there.

Top: ‘Ashington Hirst Miners Welfare Club’ 1977
Botoom Left: ‘Detail – Painters and Carpenters Lunch Room’ – Ashington Colliery 1988
A framed photograph of the colliery soccer team from the 1950s. The buildings were later demolished after the closure of the mine.
Bottom Right: ‘Press Operator – Hepworths the Tailors’ Ashington,1979
A long term employer for 800 Ashington women, The factory closed down in the 1990s, new owners of the business moved production to Morrocan factories to maximize profit margins.

People would often ask why I wanted to photograph them; my answer would always be that they were as important to the town’s history as any celebrity sportsman or local politician. I had always wanted to show the town of Ashington in the broadest sense, I would set out to do specific ‘surveys’ in which I would spend a few weeks photographing shopkeepers and trades people around the area. Then I’d move on to factory workers working in a number of the local clothing/engineering factories, and in this way build up a picture of the working lives and environment of the people of Ashington. This was in addition to any of my work in the local collieries at Ashington, Woodhorn, Lynemouth and Ellington. I also wanted to concentrate on leisure activities and traditional pastimes such as my series on whippet dog racing which I did over a twelve month period. This was done at the same time as I was working on paid commissions for trade unions and other projects in the North East of England.

Morphine – Medical Box’ – Ellington Colliery 2005
The last working shift at Ellington Colliery, the designated medical first aider carried doses of injectable morphine underground in case of serious accidents. Miners working at Ellington, a coastal mine, worked underground 6 miles out from the shoreline underneath the North Sea.

My work has continued in the intervening years since the demise of the coal mining industries in the area and I have recently completed a series of new images from the neighbourhood where I was born, an area where many of the town’s mining community were housed and is now considered to be one of the most run down and deprived communities in the UK.

This situation is not only specific to my community, but a problem which is widespread amongst many ex-mining communities throughout England Wales and Scotland where the major sources of full-time employment have disappeared without any strategic plan for the future prospects of working class people.

*This was part of the original manifesto of the Amber/Side Film/Photography Collective.

About the author

Mik Critchlow

Mik Critchlow (b.1955) is a social documentary photographer based in the North East of England. Mik has worked on long term community-based projects for over forty years. On seeing an exhibition of paintings in 1977 by the ‘Pitmen Painters’- a group of Ashington men brought together in 1934 by the Workers Educational Association for Art Appreciation classes, he realised the value of art as a social document, the visual representation of everyday life, by one’s own knowledge and personal experiences. In the same year, he began a long-term photography project which documented his home town of Ashington Northumberland. The son of a miner, he has worked within the community with a deep-rooted empathy for the townsfolk, documenting the area and it’s people during a rapid period of social and environmental change. Work is held in public and private collections and has been exhibited & published widely including: Side Gallery, Amber-Side Collection, Northumberland Archives, Brunel University, Museums Northumberland, Durham Art Gallery, Arts Council England, Laing Gallery, Northumberland Libraries , MCC Museum, Northern Arts, The British Journal of Photography, Amateur Photographer, Creative Camera, Museums Journal. Recent exhibitions include: 'Forever Amber' - Laing Art Gallery 2014, 'The Share' - Northern Rock Gallery 2014 , 'About The North - Imagined Dialogues' - Side Gallery 2018, 'Pitmen Painters Unseen' - Woodhorn Museum 2018, 'WORK+WORKERS' - Side Gallery 2019. View all posts by Mik Critchlow →

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