Led h lll Lt 6 FEATURE May Day | movement the symbol of struggle In the Philippines, as in El Salvador and elsewhere, trade unions and workers’ organi- zations have made May Day a symbol of the democratic struggle. Geoff Meggs, editor of the Fisherman, was in Manila in 1985 and took part in the historic May Day march that presaged the end of the Marcos dictatorship. By GEOFF MEGGS A thatched hut, nuns, a yellow kite, red banners, masked men — these are the images that come to mind when I remember marching in Manila with Filipino trade unionists on May Day, 1985. There were 12 Canadians in our delega- tion, half trade unionists and half church activists, touring the Philippines for four weeks to see first-hand the consequences of 13 years of Marcos dictatorship. By the time we arrived at our departure point for the march, a large square in down- town Manila, we had been in the country a week. : Our tour had taken us to Luzon, to the massive American military bases at Clark Field and Subic Bay, and to the Bataan Export Processing Zone where 30,000 workers fought multinationals, the courts and the army to build trade unions behind the zone’s barbed wire. From the plaza outside the export zone’s pretentious and derelict golf and country club we had looked down on the factories below and seen the picket line outside the Chemark fan assembly plant where mem- bers of the local labor alliance were demanding full severance pay from their runaway employer. They had rolled boulders into the road to frustrate attempts to remove the remaining production and had built temporary homes - for their families among the trees lining a nearby drainage ditch. Outside the main gate a cross and coffin draped in a red banner symbolized their protest at the denial of their rights. Next to the gate stood a thatched hut. That evening, as we ate with the strikers by the drainage ditch, we heard singing rising from the hut, which was illuminated from within by a Coleman lamp. “It’s our trade union school,” the workers told us. “Come Crouched on logs on the dirt floor were a dozen zone workers, men and women aged about 14 to 25. There were Mattel workers, Dunlop workers and others, all spending their few free hours to learn trade union organization. Although the 57 peso minimum wage (about $4.40 Canadian at that time) was far below the poverty line, many of these workers earned only 12 pesos a day for a 60-hour week. It was hard for them to believe that Canadian workers could receive the same wage for 10 minutes of equivalent work. Yet despite such different backgrounds we had much in common — common employers, common problems and com- mon hopes. For an hour the questions flowed back and forth and then singing 20 e PACIFIC TRIBUNE, APRIL 29, 1987 began again, first Philippine folk songs, then ragged renditions of Solidarity Forever from the Canadians and then, as we rose to leave, the Filipinos sang a song almost for- gotten in Canada but strangely familiar nonetheless — the Internationale. They would think of us on May Day, they told us. They planned to strike the zone and undertake a two-day march to the pro- vincial capital to demand new labor laws. In Manila a few days later, we heard snatches of the same tune being hummed around us in the crowd. May Day marches were only a few years old in the Philippines. . They had been suppressed under the dicta- torship until the organization of Kilusang Mayo Uno, the May First Movement, a national trade union centre uniting the country’s independent and militant unions. That morning we had met the dictator and the other trade union movement, the Trade Union Congress of the Philippines, on television. The TUCP had taken the unusual step of denying an invitation to Marcos to address its May Day meeting asa protest against his anti-labor policies. They: were not so rude, however, as to turn down his invitation to hear him speak at his palace. The dictator’s remarks, a ringing defence of workers’ rights, were broadcast on national television. The camera panned to show the applauding trade unionists as Marcos then decried labor strife that undermined investment and _ reduced national wealth. But for the thousands of workers form- ing ranks in the streets of Manila, it was not labor strife that reduced national wealth but the savage exploitation of transnational corporations. ‘What is the main problem in your fac- tory?” we had asked one striking worker. “U.S. imperialism,” he said, without a trace of embarrassment. Clearly this was an issue that wasn’t going to be solved at arbitration. Ina thousand thatched huts like the one we had visited at Bataan, Filipino workers had analyzed the sources of their exploita- tion. Now, as we stood waiting for the march to begin, we could hear and see how they proposed to deal with them through unity and political action. Scattered throughout the crowd were contingents of labor supporters. Artists had mounted their paintings on banners. Actors performed along the route. Teachers were massing across the road. Women’s organi- zations were nearby. These were the “‘cause- oriented organizations,” the host of groups organized in the “Parliament of the streets” that arose to challenge the dictatorship, especially after the assassination of Benigno Aquino. é Most incongruous to the North Ameri- can eye were the nuns. Scores mingled in the crowd, not only supporting labor’s cause, but ready to defend it. Why? “The progressive church people support the fight for labor’s rights,” our hosts told us. “And when they are with us, the police are more reluctant to attack.” There was a more fundamental reason, as well. Philippine trade unionists had con- FISHERMAN PHOTO — GEOFF MEGGS MAY DAY MARCH IN PHILIPPINES, 1985 ... many of the wrongs not resolved _ after Marcos’ downfall. cluded that they could not win their struggle for justice, freedom and democracy by themselves or by strike action alone. They knew it would take a vast political alliance of all who cherished those ideals to win them for the Philippines. At last the march began. Our column was just one of five snaking through the city to join in a single massive throng at the down- town rally point. As we started off, the trade union marshalls kept a close eye on us. Experience had shown that police or anti- labor vigilantes might attack anywhere along the route. - To maintain close ranks we might have to run for long stretches, or stand in the sun waiting for slower sections to catch up. For more than an hour we moved forward in this fashion, rushing several blocks in a frantic jog, then standing in puddles of sweat to wait for the dawdlers. “You will know when we are close to the end because you can see the kite,” they told us. “One kite means there is danger of attack by the military. Three kites means all is clear and we will proceed to the Mendiola Bridge.” We had little stomach for Mendiola, the bridge to the presidential palace which Marcos defended with barbed wire, hand- picked troops and tear gas. Soon enough, there it was — a single yellow kite flying high above the rally where tens of thousands of workers already waited for the speakers. As we entered the park, we passed under an expressway overpass where cheering workers welcomed us_ with clenched fists and red flags. Climbing a light standard to escape the crush on the ground I watched more than 50,000 trade unionists press up to the stage, a sea of banners and raised fists broken by the pastel colors of the nuns’ parasols. On the distant platform, I could see a girl speaking. I was told she was only 12, daugh- ter of a trade unionist jailed without trial for many years. Behind her as she spoke was Rolando Olalia, chairperson of KMU, whose father had served in the labor move- ment for a lifetime, been jailed by Marcos, and released just a few months before his death. 7 And in the crowd I noticed for the first time the masked men, young men mostly; wearing towels low over their foreheads an bandanna style across their noses. Sut glasses cut off any glimpse of their faces: Were they police? No, my guide told me, they were organi ers who feared to be seen at a labor demo” stration, to have their pictures wind up in 4 police file. They were organizers like thé teenagers we had met in the thatched hut 1# Bataan. There was some fear in the crowd that day, but much more courage and defianc® Few believed that Marcos was already in his last year of power. On May Day 1986, just two months aftef Peoples Power and the struggles of many years swept Marcos aside, 500,000 jubilant trade unionists heard President Corazo? Aquino promise them major labor reforms in her first May Day address. Those changes have not yet been made: _ Earlier this year, the trade union office HY Bataan was firebombed by persons ut known. Several union organizers have bee? killed. Rolando Olalia died November 13, 1986: at the hands of military assassins. Non® have been brought to trial. In January, 5,000 peasants desperate fot ‘the land reform promised by the new government, marched on to Mendiola, the bridge that leads to the presidential palac® Here the military opened fire, killing mo! than 20 and wounding scores of others. _ The KMU will march in Manila aga!” this May Day. Unlike 1985, when the fledg” ling labor centre was little-known outsid? the Philippines, the KMU now enjoys thé recognition of many national labor organk zations, including the Canadian Labo! Congress. Despite the bitter disappointments of the Aquino “revolution,” Filipino workers 4 moving forward. They are organizing, strik ing, marching and fighting for change. All they ask is that we support them and that we do the same.