On February the 10th, 1972, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto warned working class agitators in Karachi that if they refused to toe the government’s line on its new labour policy, ‘the strength of the street would meet the strength of the state’. When the agitation showed no signs of slowing down, Bhutto followed up on his ominous words with a violent crackdown on industrial labour across the city. Plenty were killed, many were injured, and countless others were sent to prison or rendered unemployed.
June 7th, 1972, the day when the state flaunted its strength, is normally considered to be the turning point in Pakistan’s labour movement history. From that time on, Bhutto’s ruling party would become a lot more wary of ceding space to trade and student unions – groups that had given the party an overwhelming tide to ride. Over the next 10-15 years, organisations that had been instrumental in the downfall of Ayub’s regime devolved into a state of organisational and ideological chaos, ultimately becoming nothing more than sterile cliques and obedient collectives.
It’s a testament to the depravity of our times that the popular conception of ‘civil society’ rarely extends to include trade unions and worker groups within its ambit. For many, non-governmental organisations, human rights groups, and professional associations remain the only ‘rightful’ protestors and bearers of progressive, liberal causes. Such a selective viewing of society, and more so of our history, has not only induced insulation and political marginalisation, but has further ceded space to mainstream conservative forces.
Trade unions today, in consequence of the debilitating effects of Bhutto’s, but more so of Zia’s tenure, have become convenient tools for patronage dispensation and political strong-arming. For years, the state has interfered in union activity, installing a leader here, removing a leader there, with the sole aim to ensure compliance and loyalty. Whereas once it was possible for unions to participate and agitate for macro-level working class concerns, the primary task of unions is now to ensure that their members are taken care of, that the political bosses they report to are happy, and that street action is kept to a minimum.
Looking at all this, it’s very easy to blame the nature of Pakistan’s economy – i.e. its utter inability to sustain industrial growth for extended periods of time. The retarded development of an alienated urbanised labour class has been one but not the primary factor in the decline of working class participation in popular politics. More so, a simple reference to official labour force statistics hardly captures the reality of labour relations in our economy. While 18 percent of total employment is said to be found in the ‘manufacturing’ sector, another 30-40 percent is reported to be working in the informal sector – unrecorded, unregulated, and wholly outside the domain of labour laws and whatever little legal protection the state has ordained.
If an objective evaluation was to be done of the decline suffered by working class organisations, the onus would largely fall on the state and its commitment to a multi-lateral sponsored, unbridled neo-liberal paradigm. Unchecked and unregulated privatisation has resulted in a battle for scraps between unions and workers, a free-for-all to see who can cut the least oppressive deal. Beyond all this, parties claiming to work for the entrenchment of substantive democracy in the country remain wary of letting unions become vehicles for progressive ideological agendas. The current arrangement seems to work in favor of sustaining long-standing class imbalances.
Political parties, especially the Pakistan Peoples Party, would do well to recognise the fact that no country, organic or post-colonial, industrialised, or under-developed, has instituted substantive, progressive democratic politics without the inclusion and representation of the working class. Leaving all other examples aside, we only need to look at our own history, and the movement of the 60’s and 70’s, to realise that purposeful mobilisation not only ensures state responsiveness but also cuts across ethno-linguistic lines. The workers upon which the state unleashed its oppressive agenda on June the 7th were not Pashtun, Hazara, or Muhajir. They came together solely because of their shared positions in an increasingly oppressive economic environment.
By the time you’re reading this piece, annual May Day rallies organised by various unions and labour groups would’ve taken place across all major cities in the country. With each passing year, non-union, non-worker participation in these rallies has gone down, giving us further indication of the growing gap between our haves and have-nots. Wishing for a progressive, tolerant, and economically just country, falling some way short of what is required, has to be complemented with a recognition of the rights of labour and working classes in Pakistan.
Take some time out this May Day to pay tribute to the sacrifices of Bashir Bakhtiar’s Hydroelectirc Union, Mirza Ibrahim’s Railways worker union, the PTCL union, and most of all, the martyrs of Karachi.
* Borrowed from Kamran Asdar Ali’s amazing piece on the Karachi labour movement titled ‘The Strength of the State: The 1972 Labor Struggle in Karachi’.
The writer is an activist working with Workers Party Pakistan and blogs at http://recycled-thought.blogspot.com. Write to him at [email protected]
