tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26297003359488339072024-03-13T20:53:42.138-07:00 LETTUCE WARS Ten Years of Work and Struggle in the Fields of California
Don Sparkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07767498236178927424noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-71617132895177736492016-01-26T16:26:00.001-08:002016-01-26T16:26:03.325-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Primer parte del PRÓLOGO al Edición en español</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">CON ESTA PUBLICACIÓN CUMPLO la promesa de hacer</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">disponible este libro sobre el movimiento del campo en el idioma </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">de la mayoría de los obreros campesinos.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">El imperio agricola de California se ha construido sobre las</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">espaldas de personas no blancas. Desde la década de 1920, la </span><span style="font-size: large;">carga ha caído cada vez más sobre los hombros de las personas </span><span style="font-size: large;">explotadas proveniente de países al sur de Estados Unidos.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Hasta hoy el 92% de los trabajadores agrícolas en California</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">vienen de México. La primera superpotencia mundial se sostiene aprovechando de las víctimas de su propio saqueo imperial.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Los campos de California han visto repetidos períodos de</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">resistencia. Los años de las guerras de lechuga (de los 70s)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">fue la más prolongada y potente de estos, uno que nació con la </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">rebelión social de la década de los 60s.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Con el reflujo del movimiento de la década de los 70s, los</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">productores impusieron un sistema de trabajo para evitar</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">futuros levantamientos. Pero las fuerzas competitivas que</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">impulsan el orden capitalista no pueden seguir sin crear nuevas </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">grietas. En marzo de 2015, 50 mil campesinos abandonaron </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">los campos de San Quintín, en la costa occidental de Baja </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">California—un área importante de producción agrícola para los </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">productores de Estados Unidos. Decididos a desafiar el salario </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">de hambre de $6.50 por día, los huelguistas marcharon hacia el </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">norte a ciudades fronterizas de Mexicali y Tijuana. Exigieron el</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">reconocimiento de su sindicato, para ponerle fin a condiciones </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">de esclavitud, alto a los robos y abusos incluyendo el fin al acoso </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">sexual de las mujeres trabajadoras.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Los rancheros se opusieron a la demanda por un salario</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">mínimo de 300 pesos al día (20 dólares) y el gobierno Mexicano </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">respondió con la represión violenta. Pero los huelguistas </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">ganaron fuerza del movimiento contra el terrorismo que cobró </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">fuerza en la estela de la masacre de estudiantes de Ayotzinapa </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">y los gritos de huelga resonaron por toda la frontera de Estados </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Unidos, entrelazando llamadas de solidaridad y boicot. Al fin, </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">trabajadores ganaron algunas de las demandas. Este acto de</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">rebelión fue notable y destacable.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Muchos trabajadores de San Quintín son pequeños</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">agricultores de Oaxaca. La imposición del supuesto “libre</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">comercio” (TLC) condujeron a muchos a la ruina. Ahora</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">oaxaqueños forman la columna vertebral de la fuerza de trabajo </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">agrícola en los Estados Unidos y sus movimientos de resistencia </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">estan brotando desde el estado de Washington a México.</span></div>
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ccsf469http://www.blogger.com/profile/08280663667324218147noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-67563902540875167232015-07-29T11:12:00.001-07:002015-07-29T11:12:03.106-07:00<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0851oqh9h5bJ95hvGNjVTFAFmZOSFdnxr25fdZKN9DHht4aPT1HDFRfWdn0GeSfJJZuUq9KaCAuhKYJ422NhLi_GOi083LgGZItstznq_rYYkc0ROL5pRe01pvbPQqo_3tGVR5XddgD71/s1600/Melon+workers+mendota.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0851oqh9h5bJ95hvGNjVTFAFmZOSFdnxr25fdZKN9DHht4aPT1HDFRfWdn0GeSfJJZuUq9KaCAuhKYJ422NhLi_GOi083LgGZItstznq_rYYkc0ROL5pRe01pvbPQqo_3tGVR5XddgD71/s640/Melon+workers+mendota.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Estuvimos en Mendota, California este fin de semana pasada, donde los trabajadores de melón (visto en esta foto) y miles de trabajadores agrícolas y sus familias enfrentan el desempleo y el hambre. He aquí una historia que es más profunda y más feo que una devastadora sequía. Como nos dijo una residente que ha vivido 35 años en Mendota, se trata de una zona que ha producido una enorme riqueza de los productos agrícolas en los últimos años, pero donde la gente y la comunidad que produjo nunca ha visto nada mas que la pobreza. Mientras tanto la tierra, en particular, sus acuíferos, se han dañado sin posibilidad de reparación por un sistema que se preocupa por nada ni nadie en su prisa pánico para obtener ganancias a corto plazo.</span><br style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">Una historia más completa sobre este tema es inminente.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">In Mendota, California this weekend where melon workers (seen in this picture) and thousands of farm workers and their families face unemployment and hunger. Here is a story that is deeper and uglier than just a devastating drought As one long term resident we spoke with pointed out, this is an area where enormous wealth in farm goods has been made over the years, but the people and community who produced that wealth have never been anything but impoverished. Meanwhile the land, in particular its aquifers, have been damaged beyond repair by a system that cares for nothing and no one in its panicky rush for short term gain. </span><br style="color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">A fuller story on this is forthcoming.</span>ccsf469http://www.blogger.com/profile/08280663667324218147noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-15776779354415680692014-05-26T17:26:00.003-07:002014-05-26T17:30:29.119-07:00<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Salinas on Sunday, May 25.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_doXNXr_ZfVN3okiqpcQ6VhAWGlr6wjY_kWQ5z1QxTltLD8RA7iXzqY-DkXWt1tOVWdFXWknNX_dvyJhl41Ih0UxWdJtuxTWjlGaitAjuW4_AjFSFDnP2pT-2TvUlfHGIdhVI3L5FtJk/s1600/Name+of+Salinas+killed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_doXNXr_ZfVN3okiqpcQ6VhAWGlr6wjY_kWQ5z1QxTltLD8RA7iXzqY-DkXWt1tOVWdFXWknNX_dvyJhl41Ih0UxWdJtuxTWjlGaitAjuW4_AjFSFDnP2pT-2TvUlfHGIdhVI3L5FtJk/s1600/Name+of+Salinas+killed.jpg" height="279" width="320" /></a>In
Closter Park in the heart of the farmworker community – there I was introduced
to the brother of Carlos Mejia who was shot down like an animal May 20.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The brother was quiet, hardly spoke, seemed
in shock to me. I and others hugged him. “I should have worn black”, he said
quietly, and he bit his lip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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On the park gazebo a woman read a statement off her cell
phone from the family of Angel Ruiz who was shot dead on March 20 just steps
from where he worked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She choked up as
she read of the pain of a family that has lost a husband, a father, a son. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPvHyXsnlCi4cbmzYj97R5cfasiCU0gAp_6naTb7VbVbuAzhhezsdRmZIEp5u4Jzo4Q8UGZU2nJHPFbld0QeoHrBbxFT3vZ4RUve1G_UAebC70m-Glp4c7J2iE6jqWFJDbb60eGs2Hpwj/s1600/Sin+Justicia+no+hay+respeto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBPvHyXsnlCi4cbmzYj97R5cfasiCU0gAp_6naTb7VbVbuAzhhezsdRmZIEp5u4Jzo4Q8UGZU2nJHPFbld0QeoHrBbxFT3vZ4RUve1G_UAebC70m-Glp4c7J2iE6jqWFJDbb60eGs2Hpwj/s1600/Sin+Justicia+no+hay+respeto.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>The hundreds who left Closter
Park grew to a thousand or more as the march reached Sanborne and Del Monte
where Carlos was gunned down by the two cops who had been following him, in
sight of a resident with a cell phone camera. The stain from Carlos’ blood was
still there where it had run like a small stream for yards down the street. A
small memorial stood nearby, as neighborhood people passing through on foot or
by car, stopped to look and grab leaflets that read in part “Murdering Salinas
Cops Must Be Put on Trial and Face Justice! The Whole Damn System Is Guilty!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>from Luz who came with me to this spot,
herself a former farmworker from Soledad. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia1yjKPjVRcIuEZJk6_JfAM9OJpkaqrAjtxA4Cl0lKHTSMdubwQgz1PxOifHBgGsWtly6_eeAmk91o50h6lHDMlYggBQyplzDhkTUIdSiCE4_oz8duNk2iF48cR_B19HtbUSEqXRkzZ0jY/s1600/Carlos+Mejia+Memorial2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia1yjKPjVRcIuEZJk6_JfAM9OJpkaqrAjtxA4Cl0lKHTSMdubwQgz1PxOifHBgGsWtly6_eeAmk91o50h6lHDMlYggBQyplzDhkTUIdSiCE4_oz8duNk2iF48cR_B19HtbUSEqXRkzZ0jY/s1600/Carlos+Mejia+Memorial2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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At the parking lot of Mi Pueblo people sat on picnic benches
outside the market as the noise of scores of honking cars and chanting marches
announced the approaching protest. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People
pointed to the spot where Osman Hernandez was shot dead on Friday evening, May
9.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought back to all those payday
nights when, with a paycheck in pocket, the fatigue of a long week of work drew
one like a magnet to a liquor store or bar for a few beers to relax and
forget.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Osman, a 26 year old from El
Salvador working to send funds to his family back home, had a few drinks that
night and felt good, maybe even happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Osman
still had his lettuce knife in his back pocket where lettuce workers carry them
when he left a bar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He danced to his own
rhythm, knife in hand, that much a video shows -- until a cop, according to one
person, pushed him brutally to the ground, and there, still in the shock of the
moment, was shot repeatedly in the head!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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And there I thought about an interview a few years before
with several Salvadoran lettuce workers Osman’s age, a few yards away outside
Christy’s Donuts. I recalled how they asked me about overtime, and speed up and
what they considered cheating by their contractor of piece rate pay – their
voices were edged with anger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzKWLMVF92ZU6th0y8cuWBtGjYgSOzWsXrzAdAEO3fq3BchvjM9hvwylkO4XsYtoCxW4C-6DbymlU3S0Y9EOY5xWWnPtj1o0enz3KluZ6PT93uESenpaM10wH8r7zPUTtwzeDM58obREj/s1600/System+guilty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzKWLMVF92ZU6th0y8cuWBtGjYgSOzWsXrzAdAEO3fq3BchvjM9hvwylkO4XsYtoCxW4C-6DbymlU3S0Y9EOY5xWWnPtj1o0enz3KluZ6PT93uESenpaM10wH8r7zPUTtwzeDM58obREj/s1600/System+guilty.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></div>
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And there, at that moment in front of Mi Pueblo, an older
woman came up to greet me. It was Silvia, a veteran farmworker who told me at a
farmworker event in Greenfield that “overtime is just an unsubstantiated rumor
in the fields”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I reminded her of that.
She asked, didn’t you write a book?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to write one too, she
said – of all the injustices I’ve seen – I’ve seen so much!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll help you, I said, in whatever way I can.
And we agreed to keep in touch.<o:p></o:p></div>
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People came from Oxnard, Oakland, Stockton, Fresno, Santa
Cruz, Los Angeles, Santa Rosa and Sacramento to stand with the people of
Salinas. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Some organizers did their best to control the message of the
march – like those<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“pledges of non-violence”
back in the day – why is it always the victims of violence, of brutal, vicious,
malicious violence, that have to “prove themselves” “non-violent”. Why don’t
the police, and the ruling forces that command them – why don’t they have to
pledge non-violence?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why do the people
who are victims of injustice have to prove they are “responsible”, while their
exploiters and oppressors are above scrutiny?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The thought police were out to keep expressions of justified contempt
for the institutions of oppression from being openly expressed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They met with resistance and their success
was limited but they will have the cooperation of a compliant (corporate) media
in their work. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One of the speakers gave a glimpse of some deeper truth in
the rally, so I’ll quote here from a transcription of his speech that I
recorded.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The speaker is Hector Perla
Jr., a professor of international relations at UC Santa Cruz:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Many of us from <span lang="ES-TRAD" style="mso-ansi-language: ES-TRAD;">El Salvador, Central América and México </span>are
here because our communities have been expelled, displaced by policies of the
U.S. government, by ‘free trade’ policies by “free trade agreements” that
displace farmers and destroy the agriculture of our countries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is not the ‘violence of the narcos’ that
is at fault but the structural violence imposed on us . . . And when we come
here seeking a better future for our families to find honorable work, what
happens? We are discriminated against, deported and criminalized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s time to say enough.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such
are the policies of a system of exploitation. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a name='more'></a><br />ccsf469http://www.blogger.com/profile/08280663667324218147noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-55374461802832982192014-04-13T20:09:00.003-07:002014-04-13T20:09:32.946-07:00
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Interview with Ann Lopez -- Center for Farmworker Families -- and Bruce Neuburger on April 10, 2014 on farmworkers, NAFTA, the border, horrendous border waits and other issues. </div>
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<a href="http://www.kpfa.org/archive/id/101804">Flashpoints
for April 10, 2014</a></div>
ccsf469http://www.blogger.com/profile/08280663667324218147noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-43824312458338719822014-04-05T17:55:00.001-07:002014-04-05T17:55:10.588-07:00Border Gridlock: America's Longest Commute<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/A06iZZLhGXw" width="480"></iframe>ccsf469http://www.blogger.com/profile/08280663667324218147noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-13667607295078924932014-02-10T14:38:00.000-08:002014-02-10T20:07:34.742-08:00On the borderline<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;">
<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">January 7, 2014:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">On the borderline: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farmworkers at the Mexicali - Calexico border in the early morning. </td></tr>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">A little background. I worked
in the 1970s in the fields and spent 4 winters in the Imperial Valley area
where I’d come following the crop cycle. During the months of December,
January, and February I crossed the border almost daily to work on lettuce
ground crews in the Imperial Valley and Yuma. There were a lot of
inconveniences, a lot of uncomfortable conditions and injustices that workers
had to endure. Often company foremen and labor contractors would have
workers crossing the border early, at 4:00 AM, only to wait for hours on a bus
while the company considered its options or inspected the conditions in the
fields. There were times when we traveled to the field on cold mornings
only to have to wait for hours while the lettuce warmed enough to be cut.
There were times when we traveled, even long distances, to a field, only to
turn back because of rain. Most often these lost hours went unpaid, although
there were some concessions by some growers for waiting and traveling time at
the height of the union movement era. Most often in those winter
months we’d cross the border to work in the dark and return in the dark.
Living in cheap hotels near the border in those days, returning after dark
meant returning to a place with no hot water, it meant a cold shower in a cold
room. But one thing I never had to endure in those years was waiting to
cross the border on foot in the mornings from Mexicali to Calexico. While
crossing in cars was usually slow, the crossing on foot never took more than a
few minutes. That was back in the late 1970s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Today, crossing the Mexicali /
Calexico border on foot to work is something akin to torture and
humiliation. I’d heard from workers about long waits in the mornings to
cross, but until this past Monday, I hadn’t experienced it first hand.
Here I’ll give an account of the morning (Monday, January 6) and I’ll
fill in the picture with some notes from discussions with various people in the
Mexicali-Calexico-Yuma area.</span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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I arrived in Calexico from El
Centro at about 2:15 AM. I took note on the car thermometer that it was
41 degrees out. I came with Freulan, a veteran
farmworker from the 1970s who worked for a time with the Teamster’s union as an
organizer but who was forced out for denouncing the corruption he
witnessed. Freulan grew up in the border area and worked in the lettuce
fields for decades. As he noted on a number of occasions, it’s been 30 years
since any efforts have been made to improve the conditions of farmworkers, and
those conditions have deteriorated and continue to deteriorate.<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We parked our car near the De Anza
hotel which is 4 or 5 block walk from the border. On the way to the
border there were already a fair number of people walking the streets.
Some were carrying pieces of cardboard. I knew that Carlos, a
friend of Freulan’s, had gone a few days before to the border crossing at San
Luis, Rio Colorado to check on the situation there, and found farmworkers
sleeping on the streets waiting for the labor contractor buses to show
up. The significance of this didn’t really strike me until I saw these
workers, who’d crossed the line very early to avoid the long waits there --
with these pieces of cardboard which they intended use to cushion themselves
from the hard pavement while they rested and waited for the buses to take them
to the fields!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I talked to one worker a block from
border and he confirmed this. He said he’d crossed to avoid the long, tedious
wait. His attitude was one of resignation, with resentment just below the
surface. He was very open to talking about the situation, the long border
waits in particular, the suffering in the cold mornings and the 4 generations
of workers – teenagers to older veterans – he was quite emphatic about that –
who are were forced to endure this. While we were talking I saw a number
of people with cardboard boxes torn open, making their way up the street from
the border.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We arrived on the Mexicali side about
2:30. There is a long passageway from the street to the border crossing
which some people call “el tunel” – which is lined with small puestos.
Only a few of these were open, selling newspapers, candies, and so on, and one
with a taco stand called Dulceria del Valle. Freulan thought it a bit
strange that there were so few people in the passageway, but we thought that it
was still early. As time went on, and the crowds continued to be thin, we
realized this was not an ordinary morning. The women working in the taco
stand also commented that the crowds were far sparser than normal. Their
stand struck out into the passageway a few feet, and they told me that not
infrequently the crowds were so densely packed in the passageway that they had
to pull their counter in to the adjoining kitchen space to make room for them.
Throughout the morning we heard people coming up the passageway say things
like, “there’s hardly a line today”. It wasn’t clear why this was the
case until it was pointed out later that it was el Dia de los Reyes Magos and a
lot of people were staying home with their children or otherwise celebrating.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">The passageway I’m describing begins
from a stairway off the street in Mexicali, extends for a 100 yards or so to
another staircase which extends upward to the immigration office which is on
the street level of Calexico. All Monday morning lines extended down the
stairs from the immigration office to the passageway level but they never
stretched back more than 20 to 30 yards and, unlike many other mornings, they
did not stretch across the passageway as I’d seen others in photos and heard
described.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">There are two lines that lead to the
immigration office through which people pass to get to Calexico. One line
is called the “Ready Line”. It’s for people who have a visa that works
like a Fast Trac device. People with these visas just swipe them through
a machine as they enter the immigration office and their data appears on the
computer screen. The people with these visas seemed to be a small
minority of those crossing. Everyone else was in the regular line.
The Ready Line moved quickly while the regular line seemed glacially slow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKaMAIuPV7Zug4ayx4aa7dURsIR1fZnIqrchEVSXDNzr-KdXqQHhM4zK2HQdh6997I7RiLQT0wWS-0e1R8TQlOoqyOce2dQiBZ_-ZCCLbmaiKQ05jR7vdBJ6u99Iy1wepmBUDZF717DnHu/s1600/IMG_4142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKaMAIuPV7Zug4ayx4aa7dURsIR1fZnIqrchEVSXDNzr-KdXqQHhM4zK2HQdh6997I7RiLQT0wWS-0e1R8TQlOoqyOce2dQiBZ_-ZCCLbmaiKQ05jR7vdBJ6u99Iy1wepmBUDZF717DnHu/s1600/IMG_4142.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even on a holiday when lines were small the wait was more than an hour.</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We talked to people in line – workers
going to the lettuce machines; others working in the “sprinkles” irrigation;
lettuce cutters working by hour at minimum wage; citrus workers working by
piece rate. Though each had their own take on the morning lines,
they all agreed that this morning was unusual and that it was not unusual to
have to wait 2, 3 hours or more to cross the border. One worker said,
“Nothing’s going to be done until someone dies, and it’ll happen because the
situation here is out of control”. He went on to describe the anger that
flares at times when the frustration of waiting overtakes people, or the
resentment that sparks off when an organized group pushes their way to the
front, which sometimes happens. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Children who go to school in Calexico
have to wait in these lines as well, though it’s not clear if they get
preferential treatment. In Yuma I spoke with a teacher from the Gadsden school district who told me that children in her elementary
school class have to get up at 4 in the morning to cross over from San Luis Rio
Colorado to school that begins at 8 AM.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">While in the passageway we noticed
that piñatas hanging from one of the stands were swaying. It was a cold
wind that cut through the passageway – it was uncomfortably cold and
breezy. I asked about where someone might find a bathroom and was
directed to several doors at the start of the passageway on the Mexicali
end. These were iron doors with no markings and they were both closed.
While I was taking photos in the passageway a guard of sorts approached
me and asked what I was doing. I explained why I was there and he seemed
satisfied. I was able to talk to him for a while. His name was
Alejandro and he’d worked the area at night for 3 years. He made less
than $100 a week, but said his job gave him a small break on his rent in the
Infonavit housing. He told me that the bathrooms were closed ever since
the person who used to take care of them had died. Anyone needing a
bathroom would have to leave the passageway and go out on the street to and
find relief in a store or restaurant in Mexicali. When I asked him how that
could be when people had to routinely wait 2 or 3 hours to cross, he just
shrugged. Alejandro’s job is to watch for taggers and thieves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">At about 4:30 we decided to cross
over. Freulan got into the Ready Line with his visa and went through
rather quickly. I got in the regular line at the bottom of the stairway
at the Calexico end of the passageway. At 4:45 I got a text from my
goddaughter who’d come down with me from S.F. She and her sister were
staying with relatives in Mexicali and we’d arranged to meet at the border that
morning. I found her in line at the beginning of the stairway. The
3 of us went up the line together. After making our way up the stairs we
came to the level of the immigration office where we had to go through a
revolving door. As I saw the people ahead of me go through it, they
reminded me of prisoners with leg shackles trying to walk, as people were
crammed very close together in the revolving door. My god daughter said
later that watching people go through the door reminded her of cattle being
herded. When my turn came I felt like a prisoner as well, packed in with close
bodies, shuffling forward with small steps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">While the line was far shorter than
normal, we didn’t get into the immigration office area until about 5:50.
In the office I saw that there were just 3 counters open. Each person
seeking to cross had to put their ID card in a machine before approaching the
counter. I had my passport which I shoved into the machine. When I
reached the counter I was asked a number of stock, inane questions – “Where are
you going?” “Where are you coming from?” “Why were you in
Mexicali?”, etc. My god-daughter was also asked how she planned to return
to S.F. There were just 3 counters with agents to allow people to pass
through and it seems that no matter how large the crowds are waiting to cross,
the immigration maintains a tiny staff to handle this job. Despite the
massive buildup of the border patrol to hunt down immigrants, only a tiny crew
can be spared to help facilitate people getting to work. It’s as though
the S.F. Bay Bridge had only 4 lanes open in the morning rush hour. I can
imagine the hell that would break loose if people had to wait 2, 3, 4 hours
every morning to cross the bridge. And here farmworkers not only have to
wait, but wait in the cold chill of morning. This is totally unnecessary,
even punitive. I’d call it criminal negligence on the part of both the
U.S. and Mexican governments. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">One aspect of this process of
crossing the border which a number of people I spoke with were upset about, is
the effect it has on women. Especially when there are large crowds and
people are packed into the passageway, women suffer the indignities of being
groped and even sexually abused. My god daughter told me that when she
was in the revolving door a man behind her pushed himself up against her from
behind in an act that she felt was deliberate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">There is no one from either the
Mexican side or the U.S. side to watch over the situation even though it is
hazardous to women and potential dangerous to everyone. The only person
even assigned to watch over things, Alejandro, is hired to do so to protect
property, not people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">While waiting in a line that turned
out to be a little more than an hour long, and even while I knew I was leaving
and wouldn’t have to be in such a line again, I felt frustrated and
irritated. I can’t imagine having to wait in even longer lines every day
just to get to work. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">These long waits at the border rob
people of their rest and must be damaging to peoples’ health, especially so
with women, with the double burden they often share as workers and mainstay of
families. When I was interviewing people a few years ago for the book
Lettuce Wars a woman farmworker told me she crossed the border at midnight to
avoid the long waits and had to sleep in her van. She slept poorly as she
was always on edge, fearful of oversleeping and missing her bus to work.
She said she had young children at home she had no choice but to leave alone
while she went to work. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">After crossing over to Calexico we
went and had coffee at a nearby fast food place. I noticed that the sun
came up around 7 AM, 5 hours after the workers we saw earlier had crossed
over. One of the workers I spoke with at the borderline said he normally
left his home at 2:30 and didn’t get back until 6 PM, 15 ½ hours
later. This is clearly not untypical. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1a1a1a; font-family: Arial; font-size: 13.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">On the street in Calexico and at the
passageway leading to the border crossing it was not difficult to talk to
people. Many seemed anxious to talk and there was anger and resentment
barely below the surface. I hope something can be done to expose this
grotesque abuse. Such an exposure might be the spark for some positive
action . . .<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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ccsf469http://www.blogger.com/profile/08280663667324218147noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-8468001074688909902013-07-23T13:14:00.004-07:002013-07-23T13:14:19.175-07:00Lettuce Wars on Tumblr . . .<br />
<br />
<a href="http://lettucewars.tumblr.com/">http://lettucewars.tumblr.com</a>ccsf469http://www.blogger.com/profile/08280663667324218147noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-81979475166209391212013-07-22T17:22:00.000-07:002013-07-22T17:22:18.559-07:00The 1979 lettuce strike and the virtual end of the UFW in the fields of Salinas and Watsonville -- an excerpt from Lettuce Wars in Social Policy Magazine, Summer, 2013:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.socialpolicy.org/index.php/summer-2013/615-behind-the-farmworkers-lettuce-wars-victory-from-defeat-defeat-from-victory">http://www.socialpolicy.org/index.php/summer-2013/615-behind-the-farmworkers-lettuce-wars-victory-from-defeat-defeat-from-victory</a>ccsf469http://www.blogger.com/profile/08280663667324218147noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-85462791326410828892012-12-16T14:11:00.001-08:002013-07-01T09:42:47.885-07:00A Talk on Lettuce Wars<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
Send Comments to <a href="mailto:lettucewars@gmail.com"> lettucewars@gmail.com</a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">(Slightly edited from a
presentation to the Marxist School, Sacramento, Ca. April 18, 2013)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm frequently asked, "Why did you work in the fields, and why so long!" The question speaks volumes about our oppressive system of food production. Should I have darker skin and a different native language, such a question would never be asked. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Introduction:
Slavery and Modern Agriculture<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> <i>“Direct slavery is just as much the pivot of
bourgeois industry as machinery, credits, etc. Without slavery you have no
cotton; without cotton you have no modern industry. It is slavery that has
given the colonies their value; it is the colonies that have created world
trade, and it is world trade that is the pre-condition of large-scale industry.
Thus slavery is an economic category of the greatest importance.” </i>Karl Marx, 1840.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> <i>“There
would be no United States as we now know it today without slavery.” </i>Bob Avakian, 2011<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> While both these communist theoreticians
and activists were speaking of Chattel slavery in the U.S. South, there is much
here that’s relevant to the history and current reality of agriculture in
California and other areas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> When the U.S. seized Mexico’s northern
territories in 1848 there was growing contention between Southern slave system
and the rising industrial capitalism of the north.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> An entrepreneurial spirit emerged strong
from California’s goldfields, enough to fight off the slavers who’d come with
their expansionist ambitions, and in some cases, with their slaves. Advocates
of “free”, ie. capitalist labor prevailed, but the contending sides found consensus
in one respect -- California was to be a territory for the <b>white</b> race. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> The grab for gold foreshadowed the grab
for land. In both cases, the sign in the
window said,<b> non</b>-whites need not
apply. Mexican land grants “guaranteed”
to their Mexican owners under the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo were swept aside
as pitilessly as the native peoples had been ethnically cleansed. California became a state dominated
economically and politically by Europeans and their descendants. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> As I wrote in <u>Lettuce Wars</u>, <i>“California was envisioned as a white man’s
paradise. But it wasn’t clear how such a
society would eat.”</i> How would land with its potential be turned into
wealth? Who would do the work?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> The answer began to emerge in the 1860s when
it was found that desperately poor Chinese laborers from southern China could
be induced or tricked into coming to California and then employed as cheap labor
necessary to complete a rail link that opened up eastern markets. Thus opened,
markets increased the price of land, created new opportunities, and the need
for more labor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> In the 1880’s Adolf Spreckles, with a
sugar cane fortune reaped from another stolen land, Hawaii, built a massive
sugar factory in Salinas. Supplying sufficient sugar beets required farm production
on a scale that historian Cary McWilliams would later call “factories in the
fields.” This was possible because of skilled
Chinese laborers, driven from the goldmines or released from the railroad gangs,
yet hemmed in by structures of social control familiar to us today – lynch
mobs, repressive laws, police, courts, jails and the like.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> The caste-like system that has dominated
the fields of California ever since has proven as resistant to fundamental change,
as has the oppression of black people, now 160 years removed from slavery. So foundational to California agriculture is
this caste system that it’s taken to be as natural as Salinas winter rains.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Over the years the U.S. has gone from
expansionist power to worldwide empire, and the world trade, that Marx noted in
the 1840s, has developed into a world wide system – a “world wide web” of
capitalist relations – not just a <i>network</i>
of connections but a <i>web of oppressive production
and social relations</i>, holding hundreds of millions and ultimately billions
of people in the grip of misery, wreaking havoc in every corner of the planet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Producers of food and other farm products are
trapped in this web of misery. We can
find them in every spot on the globe, from Ugandan coffee growers and Indian
cotton farmers to Chilean grape workers and Dominican cane cutters – hundreds
of millions trapped in horrendous conditions; hundreds of millions more driven
into our “planet of slums”. The net of relations ruined Haitian rice farmers and
pushed coffee farmers from Puebla to a Salinas parking lot where I interviewed
them before they nervously drifted off as a labor contractor bus pulled into
view. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> In Huron, in the west San Joaquin Valley,
Oaxacan workers spoke to me of 12 and 14-hour days in the withering heat, driven
by a need to secure their families’ survival. Trapped as well were the Veracruz coffee
growers who died so tragically in Luis Alberto Urrea’s <i>Devil’s
Highway</i>. Hundreds of thousands of California farmworkers – estimates range
as high as 85% of them, deprived of documents, are caught in this web of
exploitative relations, which is dominated, in our day, by the tarantulas of
big capital; the produce giants like Chiquita and Taylor, the retail vendors
like Walmart, Safeway, and Target; the food processors and distributors; and the
agricultural seed and chemical giants like Archer Daniels Midland, Monsanto,
Cargill, and so on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Bending the Web of Oppression<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> So where does <u>Lettuce Wars</u> fit in
to this picture? The book covers the
years of the late 60’s to the early 80’s – years of immense struggle in the
fields that emerged at a time, not coincidentally, of great radical movements
and social upheaval -- the Civil Rights movement, the Black liberation
struggle, the anti-war movement, the women’s liberation movement and so on. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Years of struggle in the fields beginning
with Delano in 1965 saw boycotts, waves of strikes and wildcat actions, marches
and protests, meetings and picket lines and tireless efforts of all kinds.
However, when all was said and done, all of this succeeded in <i>stretching or bending</i> one <i>small segment of that web </i>to slightly improve
wages and working conditions, gain a few benefits, acquire some sense of
empowerment, for a very brief, moment in time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> And <b>here</b>,
<i>in this</i>, there is a tension, <i>here a conflict</i> -- between a monstrous
system of oppression and an historic movement against it – and <i><u>within that movement a struggle between what
that moment promised, what possibilities it inspired people to strive for and
dream of, and what ultimately, it accomplished</u></i>. <u>Lettuce
Wars</u>, then, if I had to point to a central theme, revolves around <b>that conflict</b>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Six years ago, as I was contemplating this
book, I went to Watsonville to visit Frank Bardacke the author of <i>Trampling Out the Vintage --</i> a masterful
account of the United Farm Workers. We
were in need of jobs back 1971 and a hitchhiker told Frank you could get work
in the fields, which is how it all began. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> By
the time I visited Frank, I’d settled on some matters. I wanted to write about what the work was
like, what it felt like, smelled like; I wanted to give a sense of the
struggles on the ground, in the crews, where, after 1970 in Salinas, workers were
fighting for new conditions. I wanted to give readers a sense of how farmworkers
were impacted by the big social movements of those times -- the struggle around
wages and benefits, yes, but <b>also</b>
against national and racial oppression.
And I wanted to bring out a theme that occurred to me this way: <b><i>The
1960s, with all its shortcomings and weaknesses were pointing humanity in the right
direction</i>; while the politics centered around this iconic figure of Cesar
Chavez, for all its successes, fame and glory, <i>were pointing us in the wrong direction</i></b>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Now this may seem contradictory. After all, the farmworker union movement
emerged in the 60s, but as I will discuss here, what the 60s represented in its
most <i>advanced</i> expression was <i>opposition to this <b>system</b> that has its foundation in slavery.</i> Chavez, and those closely allied with him in
the UFW, ultimately became conscious<i>
defenders of that system</i>, even while they sought to reform <b>some aspects</b> of it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Getting into the Fields<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><u>Lettuce Wars</u> is a personal story. It begins with a foray into the
lettuce fields in the first harvest season after the monumental strike of 1970.
I had no ambitions other than to find work. But my outlook was shaped by the
broader landscape of radical thinking at the time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>1 (94)</b> As I wrote: “<i>I was in my early twenties when someone
first placed a book by Karl Marx in my hands and urged me to read it. At the
time my disillusionment with the world around me was growing exponentially. It
was fed by the daily horror of the Vietnam War; by poverty and discrimination
in places that once had been invisible to me; by the shameless lying of those
in government; and by powerful events that shredded my naïve and sheltered
view of the world.</i>” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I became immersed in the
struggles that swept a good part of a generation into activism; the anti-war
movement, opposition to racism, and so on, in an atmosphere marked by
continuous political discussion and debate. To quote again: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>2 (<i>94</i></b><i> <b>-95)
</b>“An evolution of thought was unfolding among many people drawn into
impassioned opposition to the government. Among many of the young people there
was a great debate over the nature of the enemy we were facing in opposing the
war and racism and so on. Many young people were moving from what they saw as
the need to rescue democracy (as in American Democracy) from its corruptors and
defilers, to the realization that it might well be democracy itself, or the
bourgeois version of it, that was the source of the corruption.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">The word ‘system’ began to take hold in our
vocabulary, embracing a concept that went beyond government to describe
something even more basic to the way society operated... It was Karl Marx who’d
brought to light the ‘dirty secret’ at the heart of capitalist society, revealing
how exploited human labor was the source of capitalism’s existence and growth.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>3 (<i>95)</i></b><i> “The
Black Panther Party, coming out of Oakland in the late 1960s, clarified the
issue. They called out the oppression of black people as victims of centuries of
cruel exploitation and brutal repression, and linked their oppression to
international colonial and imperial systems in a way that struck a chord among
many people in oppressed communities, especially in the large cities. The
impassioned response of many black youths from the inner cities to Black
Panther politics put revolution into the mouths of millions more.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The fact that there existed a
socialist alternative, however young and still fragile, was of immense
importance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>4 (96)</b> Again, to
quote: <i>“When people became aware of the
Cultural Revolution going on in China, with its aim to bring forward a new kind
of society free of the kind of social inequalities that wracked the one we were
struggling against, <b>rebellion </b>took
on a different meaning. Not only did we now feel justified in opposing the
oppression of society, as we knew it, but suddenly that opposition could be
seen in a larger context; there was a coherent, historic effort under way to
create a society on a different foundation. This prospect of a different kind
of world where people did not war or prey on one another or exploit others for
the sake of advancing private interests but rather sought to build society on a
cooperative basis was a really powerful vision.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">For me, what followed this awakening
were several things; a connection with one of the newly emerging radical groups,
the Revolutionary Union; expulsion from the military for anti-war organizing; recruited
to begin an anti-war GI coffeehouse project near the Ft. Ord army base, close
contact with a movement of revolutionary-minded soldiers, whose organization
spread <i>rapidly</i> within the <b>most fundamental</b> instrument of class
rule, <i>the armed forces</i>, clearly an
expression of the <i>vulnerability</i> of a
system that had previously seemed impervious to serious challenge. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">While venturing into the
fields was not the result of any specific plan, it was in keeping with the
atmosphere of those times: Think of the 16 million urban Chinese youths going
to the countryside; or the newly awakened radical activists here leaving
campuses for factories, mines or poor communities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The first chapter of Lettuce
Wars provides a glimpse of that experience -- our first day on the job on a
union “thinning” crew working with a short handled hoe, “<i>el cortito.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>5 (<i>21)</i></b><i> “Our
backs began to hurt after the first few minutes. By the time we’d worked half
an hour, the morning had barely established itself, the air was still cool and
damp, and we were sweating and struggling, watching the rest of the crew glide
silently off in the distance. We staggered ahead, awkwardly flaying at the
earth, pushed forward by a stubborn determination not to give up.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;"> Around
ten o’clock we heard cries from several directions, “Quebrada! Quebrada!”
followed by laughter. We stood up to see the crew lying or sitting in the rows,
some in small circles, a few laughing at the sight of us working after break
had begun, and then, in free fall to the dirt on realizing it was break time.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;"> We lay
motionless next to the row of lettuce shoots. Who would have thought lying in
the dirt could feel so good? After a few moments I pulled myself up on my
knees. “Fuck, this is hard!” FJ said. “What the hell did we get ourselves into
here?” “That’s the last time I’m listening to suggestions from a hitchhiker,” I
answered back. “How do you think that guy did out here?” I asked. “Why do you
think he was leaving town?” FJ replied. We both laughed so hard we almost
choked. Puerto Rico came over to see how we were doing. “This is great, I’m
enjoying every minute of it,” I said. “When does the real work begin?” FJ
asked. Puerto Rico laughed. “They always give us the easy fields in the
morning,” he said. “Great,” I said, laughing, “but when does it stop hurting?”
“When you stop working,” he said, as he turned and walked toward his row.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">To explain a little about the
background of the workers on the crew: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>6 (<i>25)</i></b><i> “Up
until 1964 much of the work in the lettuce fields was done by contracted
workers, braceros. Bracero wages, working, and living conditions were set by
mutual agreement between the U.S. and Mexican governments. The bracero was
little more than an indentured servant, barred from actions such as strikes or
protests to influence their conditions, under threat of immediate deportation.”
<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The Bracero Program ended in
1964. Many bracero lechugueros were
converted to green card workers in a legalization effort between growers and
the immigration authorities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>7 (28)</b> But <i>“Abuses to
which farmworkers had long been exposed continued in the new post-bracero
conditions. Callous disregard for the workers was the order of the day as contractors,
supervisors, and foremen tried to squeeze out the product with a minimum cost.
Workers who couldn’t keep up with the fast pace of work, because of sickness,
pregnancy, or age, were pushed out. Those working were run like beasts of
burden under the threat of being told not to report the next day. Survival
often depended on keeping in the good graces of foremen and contractors. And
good graces came at a price. While favors took various forms, it was from the
women workers on our crew that I would occasionally hear references to
pressures for sexual favors in exchange for ‘job security.’</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">The strike of 1970 . . . turned whispered resentment
into shouts of defiance. And though workers, after years of intimidation, had
just begun to break out of their timidity, in the wake of the strike it was, by
and large, the growers and their foremen who now began to find themselves on
the defensive.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">The Open-Air Classroom<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">These times had <b>awakened</b> in farmworkers, <b>as it had with us</b>, the sense of new possibilities. Once again from Chapter 1: <b>8</b>
<b>27</b> <i>“The
thinning crew became a classroom. There were Spanish lessons intermingled with
discussions ranging from the strike and field conditions to the war in Vietnam,
student and GI movements, women’s liberation, the Black Panthers, Cuba, China,
and revolution. The fact that the political terms we were familiar with in
English were similar in Spanish, made political discussion in Spanish possible
within a far shorter time than would have been the case with another language.
Occasionally we’d stop and talk in the field, our cortitos resting on our
shoulders in defiance of the foreman, and launch into some discussion or
continue one that had begun in our break. These conversations were usually
carried on in Spanish, and my understanding of what people were saying was
often shaky</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>9 (123)</b> What I
observed was this: <i>To many campesinos
these early years of the 1970s brought a newfound strength and optimism. It
seemed only a matter of time before the storm that swept the valley the summer
of 1970 would reshape the landscape. The other valley growers would fall one
day to the union. The balance of power was shifting, all this in the context of
other changes going on in society and the world. It was possible for
farmworkers to sense their struggle was part of something larger, contributing
to bigger changes taking place. Not to oversimplify the matter, individual
outlooks varied greatly. Many farmworkers were, after all, displaced peasants,
that is, small owners who maintained entrepreneurial ambitions . . . Visions
and aspirations thus varied greatly. This does not contradict the notion that
the struggle had opened up the field to new potential and new aspirations,
including radical ones, as farmworkers sought to struggle against exploitation
and the oppression.”</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">A Newspaper<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Today we have websites, blogs
and Facebook. Back then we had<i> newspapers</i>. Putting out newspapers was a mass phenomenon
among those dissident and rebellious forces that sprung to life in those days. At Ft. Ord GIs had put out two different
papers. Many military bases in the U.S.
and beyond had anti-war or anti-military papers of some kind. So it was not surprising that the idea of a
paper that could connect struggles in the fields with other national and world issues
would come to life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I was living in a small
cottage near Salinas’ Central Park. I
became friendly with Alfonso and Dolores, neighbors, who worked on Bud Antle
lettuce machines. Together we began a
newspaper. A staff person from the
farmworkers union suggested the name, <i>El
Obrero</i>. A GI neighbor crafted the
masthead. It was called, <i>El Obrero del Valle de Salinas</i>, and
since it was, somewhat shakily, especially at first, bilingual, <i>The Worker of the Salinas Valley. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The paper eventually
attracted other people, some former students, some farmworkers, some
established local residents, some among the traveling activists, so abundant in
those days. The paper strove, unevenly
it must be said, to engage with people on a broader range of issues than those
strictly dealing with working conditions and the like. It brought us to neighborhoods and to the
labor camps which dotted the valley. It
put us in touch with workers with more developed political views. Eventually,
it put us in <b>conflict</b> with the union
leadership. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Trade Union Struggle and the Class Struggle<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In 1973 the union movement
stood on the pinnacle of its success. By 1970, it had succeeded, by way of the
boycott, in winning contracts with a large part of the grape industry. The Salinas lettuce strike of 1970 brought a
number of large vegetable growers under contract and a militant union movement
put the growers on the defensive. These victories caused reverberations across
the southwest and across the country. As
I wrote;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">“The growers feared their old autocratic control over
workers would never be the same. ‘Farm unions may be inevitable’, one grower
conceded after the strike. Although this reflected the direction things were
going at the time, it did not signal any general resignation. Whereas growers
gave ground in wages and working conditions, this was only a tactical retreat.
They remained hostile to unionism but even more so to the dangerous elements
they saw lurking in the shadows of the picket lines.” <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The growers’ press was full
of warnings of a “social movement” which they argued had no place in their society
and which harbored these dangerous elements I alluded to. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">These “dangerous elements”
had emerged in 1965 when, amid the symbolism of the Mexican struggle for
independence and the 1910 revolution, Mexican farmworkers voted to join
striking Filipino grape workers. In the past,
agricultural strikes had often been surrounded, isolated and defeated. They are
notoriously difficult to sustain. This
time, the leaders of the National Farm Workers Association (later to be called
the UFW) boldly organized a march out of Delano to Sacramento, which catalyzed
the moment. The excited crowds that came
to greet the march as it passed valley farm towns heralded the emergence of a new
social climate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Volunteers poured into Delano
-- Civil Rights veterans, newborn campus radicals, and newly politicized
Chicano youths. At one point the union had
600 volunteers. Young people learned
from farmworkers of the lives and qualities of proletarians, workers were
emboldened by the new alliance with middle-class allies – a potent, and
potentially dangerous brew bubbling up at a moment when U.S. imperialism was
being challenged from various quarters, internally and internationally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As the grape contracts that
were won in 1970 expired in 1973 growers made a bold move. They <i>refused
to re-sign</i> contracts with the United Farm Workers and <i>instead</i> signed with the Teamsters.
They sought to exploit the union’s serious weaknesses in the vineyards and
crush this budding movement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In the spring of 1973, a
contingent of lettuce workers from Salinas dubbed the “Division del Norte” by
Marshall Ganz, arrived in Coachella to help initiate a strike that would
challenge the growers’ strategy there. Here
I describe the morning after our arrival: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">“By daybreak we stood on the margins of a grape field,
part of the huge holdings of Tenneco Inc., which ran into the millions of acres.
We were the initiating force of the strike to come. Officially we were at the
field to picket and encourage the workers to leave. But we all knew that we
were going in . . . One worker in a wide-brimmed straw hat marched
up and down the line, speaking to the several hundred of us who stood stretched
out along the field’s edge. ‘Compañeros, compañeras, camaradas; the people in
this field are not our enemies, they are part of us. They are our brothers and
sisters. Our enemies are the growers and the big bankers and the corporations
and the Rockefellers who have forever exploited our country and enriched
themselves off us. Remember that these are our people, we must explain to them
why we are here, and why we must strike, to defend what we have won in our
struggles.’<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Hundreds of us were arrested when
we invaded a field to help initiate the strike.
It was at this time that the militant role of the women, so often
missing from the accounts of these times, stood out sharply to me – in jail.
After being herded into a holding cell:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">“New sounds merged with the “huelgas,” the “abajos,”
the “vivas.” It was derisive laughter, sarcasm so hardened and honed that it
should have been declared a lethal weapon. But how could they confiscate it?
And it came in its most withering, deadly, fashion from the mouths of the women
strikers. If words could kill! The sheriffs pounded the bars with their clubs
trying to smash a finger not fast enough to get out of the way. The shaking of
the bars, the smacking of clubs on metal, the shouting—jailhouse rock! The men
were separated from the women and placed
together in a large cell. Still, the shouting and singing continued. As the
hours crept by, the men began to tire. And then the shouting and cursing, like
a flame burning down to ashes, weakened. Only smoldering embers. That was in
the men’s area. Not so the women. Their shouts and chanting and singing could
be heard throughout the jail, well into the night.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The growers relied on
sheriffs and hefty Teamster goons to protect strike- breakers. Labor unions sent help to the UFW. Democratic politicians came to regale the
workers with their rhetoric. What I saw
in this struck me. As I describe:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">“At the start of the strike any striker who wished was
free to pick up a bullhorn or mobile loudspeaker and appeal to the workers in
the fields. This agitation was interesting and often moving because the
strikers poured out their feelings and understandings in very passionate and
creative ways. They spoke about the ranchers and the years of exploitation under
the Bracero Program, racism, and abuse suffered as farmworkers. There were
references to the United States’ theft of land from the Indians and from
Mexico, and to the enslavement of blacks. Mentioned too was the historic
aggression against Mexico—the invasions, the pitiless murder of Mexicans by the
invaders, the plunder of Mexico’s resources, prestanombres used by American
interests to hide their control of Mexican land, production, and resources.
Politically minded workers connected the growers’ exploitation of farmworkers
with a worldwide system that was guilty of crimes in Vietnam and other parts of
the world. They appealed to the rebellious sentiments of the workers in the fields
to join the struggle para la justicia!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;"> <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">But the freedom to express such views over the
loudspeakers did not last long. As picket captains chosen from among
farmworkers and AFL-CIO officials took charge of the loudspeakers, the
political message came under tighter control, and agitation was reduced in
scope, often to a repetition of a few slogans like “Abajo los Teamsters,” “Que
viva la union de Chavez!” or “Chavez si, Teamsters no.” The overall atmosphere
within the strike began to take on a more controlled and even repressive tone. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes comments from professional unionists were
quite overt: ‘The UFW has got to start acting like a real union not a social
movement’ which echoed criticism appearing in the grower press. I felt this was
really aimed at the more socially conscious and radical sentiments of the
farmworkers. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;"> I left
Coachella with a feeling that the effort to crush the farmworker movement was
not only coming from the growers and the Teamsters. Some of their
allies—liberal politicians and some major union leaders - were just as
determined to suppress unruly and potentially radicalizing influences of the
movement in the fields. The difference is they were willing to see a union,
shorn of any rebellious edge, continue to exist. They were willing to see the
body of a farmworkers’ union survive so long as any radical heart and spirit
had been wrenched from it.” <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">The Upsurge of 1974 and the Campaign Against
Undocumented Immigrants<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">After Coachella, strikes followed
the grape harvest as it moved north.
Thousands of workers were arrested.
Police forces and jails were stretched to the limit. Women, in
particular, played a militant role. To quote from one article from the Fresno
Bee: <i>“On July 19, 1,000 picketers massed
at Fresno County farms, and 350 were arrested for violating a court injunction.
. . Deputies said they tried to avoid arresting any women or children, although
many were among the pickets at the ranch. It eased the arresting process and
one deputy added, ‘Let’s face it. Those women are vicious. The men are no
problem.’” <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The grape strike of 1973 that
began in Coachella was called off on the eve of the Delano harvest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The 1974 harvest season saw
strikes in crops up and down the state along with renewed boycott
activity. The strike movement of those
two years was quite possibly the biggest upsurge of farm workers in the history
of California – one of the great strike movements in the history of this
country. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">While more farmworkers
engaged in more resistance to the growers than ever before, in grape vineyards,
melons fields, lemon orchards, tomato fields, lettuce fields, and other areas, the
union was preparing its main campaign of that year, against, in its own words, “illegal”
strike breakers – a campaign aimed at goading the migra to deport them. Union
volunteers went door to door in some neighborhoods urging people to turn in the
names of those they suspected of being undocumented. The union leadership openly called for
immigration raids in fields, and in neighborhoods. During a lemon strike near San Luis Rio
Colorado on the Arizona – Mexico border, the union set up a so-called wet line
of union organized operatives under the leadership of Manuel Chavez, to intercept
immigrants crossing the border. Under his leadership, these operatives – one is
tempted to call them thugs -- outdid the Migra in their brutality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">And what was the larger
significance of that? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"> As I see it, and explained in <u>Lettuce
Wars</u>: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">“This is a system that lives off the plunder of other
countries like Mexico and then uses and abuses the people forced by that
plunder to emigrate to survive. The immigration police are the enforcers of
that system. Calling on the INS to “do their job” meant endorsing that role,
blunting the reality they represented while inducing people into collaboration
with the system. It was a policy that trained people to think of the migra and
the government as allies or at least as a neutral authority that could, with enough
pressure from below, act in the interest of the people. And here, I suppose,
was the practical side of the policy for the UFW leadership. Whether it was
consciously conceived this way or not, it put the union in closer alliance with
the political system by increasing people’s faith in that system. It therefore
yielded positive results, not by pushing the INS to help against
strikebreakers, which seldom happened in any event, but in strengthening an
alliance with the Democrats and other liberal representatives of the system. A
dynamic was in motion. The illegals policy alienated the radical and
progressive forces—not only outside but also inside the union—at the same time
as it brought the union closer to a policy favorable to a U.S. ruling class
still struggling against the radicalism and revolutionary sentiments unleashed
by the upheavals of the 1960s.” <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">To appreciate this, think of
what would have happened had the union called for the end of deportations, had
denounced the migra and the whole system for its plunder of Mexico and the
forced migration of millions of people. The unity and fighting spirit of the people
would have been strengthened and there’d have been a different legacy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">The quid pro quo of 1975<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Carrying out the anti-illegal
campaign did not just mean widening divisions among people, it meant carrying
out a campaign against the National Lawyers Guild, pro-immigrant groups,
Chicano student groups and others who, to their credit, opposed the policy. <u>The Worker</u> newspaper came under
intense criticism and banishment by the UFW leadership for, among other things,
denouncing this anti-illegals campaign. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Chavez’ break with
progressive forces marked a closer alliance with Democratic Party and
imperialism. In 1975 Chavez issued a
statement upholding Israel, specifically aimed at influencing the Latino
population and carried out at the behest of George Meany. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In 1975 the union reached a
quid pro quo, calling off the strikes and boycotts in exchange for a law, the
Agriculture Labor Relations Act that gave farmworkers the right to vote for a
union of their choice. The law had many
positive aspects, and of itself, represented a victory in their struggle. But it also took the initiative out of the
hands of the workers and put it in the realm of the legal system. This, coupled with the closer alliance with
the Democratic Party, the turn against more progressive thought within the
union, the persecution of people, including workers with more radical or
revolutionary inclinations, weakened the union and lead, increasingly to
demoralization, alienation and division. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In the union election
campaigns that followed the 1975 law the UFW won a significant number of
elections and new contracts – mostly in non-grape growing areas. But many of these, including in large,
important companies, were stalled for years in a legal labyrinth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">In 1977 Chavez issued a
letter calling on a re-projecting of the union, along a more business model. It
called for an open discussion of this new direction. But soon there began an ugly purge of the
union staff. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">By decisively splitting with
progressive forces, the union leadership turned against the very conditions
that had lead to its rise. True, this was
a period of ebb in the social movements and adjustments would have had to be
made in any case. But with progressive sentiments purged from the ranks a new
glue to bind the organization emerged -- loyalty or fealty to Chavez himself, a
kind of unquestioned loyalty that could only be maintained through coercion. There
was an attempt to force loyalty through synanon games. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Alienation spread within the
circle of the union staff. And it was
spreading in the fields as well. I describe one incident in the book to
illustrate this: One afternoon after work I was in the barracks at Sun Harvest’s
Toro lechuguero camp. A few of us were engaged
in conversation with Carlos, a worker who had a stash of Marxist literature. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>295</i></b><i> “Carlos
also spoke of the United States in imagery popular at the time—as an octopus,
its tentacles extending across the planet, sucking up resources and wealth. In
this imagery national liberation and independence movements would sever the
tentacles, bloodying and weakening the beast and creating the internal
conditions for change. In this way the U.S. empire would be taken to task. Such
were some of the views that had currency as radicals like Carlos looked beyond
their immediate situations and struggled over how the world might change.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Other people in the barracks drifted in and out of the
conversation.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">And then, rather quickly, talk shifted when a worker
on one of the nearby<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">bunks sat up and said, “Estan hablando de sueños
compa” (You’re talking<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">of dreams, brother). “Y aquí vivimos con pesadillas”
(And here we’re<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">living with nightmares). He began talking about
problems in the company,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">on the crews, and of an irksome feeling that things
were not going<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">well. The union was not backing the workers in their
problems with the<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">company. The real money being taken home in wages was
diminishing<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">with rising prices. One worker, who had just come from
the shower room,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">a damp towel draped over his shoulder, stopped to
relate, in a tone of<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">frustration, his effort to get compensated for family
medical bills. Where’s<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">the money for the medical plan going, he said with
some exasperation. “A<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">los politiquillos de Sacramento, primo” (to the
political hacks in Sacramento, cousin), said someone else nearby, echoing a
growing sentiment that their concerns were being pushed to the side for other
interests the union was pursuing, interests that had more to do with becoming
part of the political establishment. What particularly angered the worker who
raised the medical plan problem was the dismissive tone of staff at the union
hall when he sought help. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">This was in 1978. A series of changes were feeding disaffection. There was disappointment with the contract,
inflation overtaking wage increases, frustrations with the medical plan -- all
those were factors. But in the past
these would have been put in perspective in a movement struggling for a vision
of something better. By 1978 that spirit
had been suppressed. The democratic space workers had once enjoyed, was closed.
All contributed to a growing anger
within. There were stories of union
office staff being literally chased out of the fields by their own union
members. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">These internal divisions were
one of the key factors, in my opinion, for the lettuce strike that began in the
Imperial Valley in January, 1979 as the leadership searched for ways to
reassert its moral authority among the ranks.
The 1979 lettuce strike was at once one of the most bitterly fought
strikes, and one of the greatest victories achieved by the union, and,
ironically, lead directly to its destruction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But before going to the strike
let me speak about another event, never mentioned in connection with
farmworkers, nor social movements, but I believe is relevant here. To quote from Lettuce Wars:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">The great revolutionary Mao Tse-tung died on September
23, 1976. In the<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">wake of his death, tremendous struggles took place in
China, as a new<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">group of leaders tried to reverse course away from
socialism and restore<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">capitalism. Mao recognized that the revolution that
brought socialism<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">was only a small first step in a transitional period
in which the old class<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">society is radically transformed, and that throughout
this period, there is<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">struggle between the old society and those who gained
from it, and the<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">new communal society trying to be born. Nothing guaranteed
that the<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">old order wouldn’t be restored; the inequalities,
habits, traditional ideas,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">and cultural forms that have existed over thousands of
years of class society won’t melt away overnight. Constant struggle to
eliminate the old and give birth to the new would be necessary, and this was
the motivation for the Cultural Revolution and just about everything else Mao
did in the last years of his life. Unfortunately, his views and the actions of
his supporters did not prevail after his death, and a process of state-directed
dismantling of collective farms, state enterprises, and social welfare measures
began, a process that continues today and has converted China from one of the most
egalitarian nations in the world to one of the least. Advances in creating a
new, revolutionary culture were turned back, and a culture of commercialism,
sexism, and glorification of private wealth flooded in to replace it. Workers
and peasants, struggling to become the masters of society in the Mao years, were
reduced to marketable assets to be sold off at bargain prices to multinational
corporations in the post-Mao society.3<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">My point here is not that
there was widespread recognition of this among farmworkers. But the changes taking place in China with the
defeat of the revolutionary forces there, could not but create conditions more
favorable to reaction everywhere. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The strike in 1979 took place
in this context. But there were still
militant forces within the union with
aspirations to fight and sacrifice for an organization to defend their well
being. These aspirations clashed with a
union leadership whose vision did not accord with theirs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">The battle of 1979:
Turning a trade union into a trade mark.
<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">As union contracts with
lettuce growers were set to expire the UFW laid out demands that included a 40%
wage increase to make up for years of inflation. The growers refused and offered only 7%. The strike began January 19 and gradually
expanded to more companies. On February 10 Rufino Contreras was murdered he
and other strikers entered a struck field. A one day general strike followed. Strike
leader Marshall Ganz was replaced by, Frank Ortiz, an official in tune to
Chavez’ autocratic leadership. The
strike, indecisive in the Imperial Valley, resumed in Salinas in the spring of
1979. Ganz returns to leadership of the
strike to restore eroded morale. Throughout the summer there are protests, one-day
strikes, picketing, sporadic field invasions, and so on. As the last big harvest in August approached
frustration among the workers anxious to expand the strike, was palpable. A split began to occur. Chavez wanted to end the strike and go on the
boycott. The rank and file leaders in
the fields wanted to expand the strike. They rejected the boycott. In late August a union convention took place
at Hartnell college in Salinas. A deal,
brokered between the union leadership around Chavez and the rank and file
strike leaders, to propose a bigger strike and a boycott was broken, when a
resolution, submitted by the union leadership omitted the strike. In anger a new resolution was written by rank
and file strike leaders. What follows is a description from <u>Lettuce Wars</u>:
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Then a key moment arrived at the convention.
Resolution 10, written<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">by the UFW top leadership to rally the convention to
the boycott, was to<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">be read on the floor. Mario Bustamante rose and walked
to the microphone.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">When the section of the resolution <b>on expanding the strike</b> was<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">read, the convention erupted. What had been a quiet,
almost nonchalant<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">meeting up to that point, broke into shouts, foot
stomping, and raised<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">fists, a loud and emotional approval of the
resolution. Chavez, chairing<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">the meeting, quietly declared the resolution’s
unanimous approval . . .<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;"> When Cesar
Chavez heard the shouts of “Huelga!” from assembled<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">delegates and looked out across the crowd, their fists
pumping the air, he<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">did not celebrate with them this burst of
rank-and-file initiative and leadershipfrom the fields, but instead felt the
internal heat of defeat, of walls closing in, of air being suddenly sucked from
the room. Nor was the joy of the delegates to the call to break through the
deadlock of the strike his joy. Rather their cheers were insults, sharp and
painful.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">The following day Chavez cut
off strike funds in retaliation. Yet a
walkout in a company in Watsonville lead to the company agreeing to all the
strikers’ demands, and in rapid succession other growers agreed to these terms.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">But the bitter division only
deepened. At the 1981 union convention Salinas
rank and file leaders tried to place several workers on to Executive Board of
the union. The effort met with dishonest tactics, suppression and threats. The
Salinas delegation walked out of the convention. Later, many of the most dedicated and
seasoned rank and file leaders were driven out of the union. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">The Destruction of the Union and the situation today <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">What followed was the
destruction of the union as growers used legal maneuvers to declare themselves
out of business only to re-emerge with new names and without union contracts. Workers were set adrift. And the growers set
about to reshape their labor situation in a way to prevent a repeat of what had
happened in the 1970s. To read from the Epilogue:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">The 1970s was a bad decade for growers, with control
over their key commodity disrupted. I’m not referring to their vegetables, but
the labor power of their workers. By 1979, some workers were hearing growers
talk aggressively of vengeance to come. By the mid-1980s, with the farmworker
movement defeated and union organization shattered, growers moved to recapture
lost ground. With the farmworker movement and the larger social upsurge a thing
of the past, the market was “free” to move the cost of workers’ labor power to
the level dictated by supply and demand, with the growers pushing hard on the
supply side. The bad days were over; “peace” was restored to the fields.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Labor contractors became the fortress standing guard
over the newly<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">reconquered terrain. By using contractors the growers
created a downward<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">pressure on wages and conditions through competition
among the contractors; distanced themselves from blame for worsening working
conditions; and made collective action by farmworkers to defend themselves
extremely difficult. The results were evident: wages dropped dramatically and
then stagnated; benefits deteriorated or disappeared; working conditions
declined. Around the mid-1980s, growers began to dismantle the labor camps,
reaping the benefits of rising real estate prices while dispersing the workers
even more and ratcheting up the debilitating struggle for survival.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Had this division not
occurred in the union, would things be different today? Such things are difficult to predict. Certainly it seems likely the union would not
have been defeated as quickly and completely.
It would not have left so much bitterness. But the essential apartheid like conditions
of farm work would not have changed as they are an essential feature to
capitalist agriculture in the U.S. In fact, one could even argue, they are more
essential today as the pace of work and exploitation increases, influenced by
sharpening farm competition from lower wage countries like Mexico, Chile, and
even China<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">When I returned to the fields
a few years ago to find about conditions I ran into Israel, a fellow lechuguero
I’d worked with at Norton company. He was now a labor contractor foreman. Israel assured me that conditions were better
than in the old days. The government is available
to deal with any abuses, he said. I can only say I found this to be a fantasy
few in the fields shared. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Conditions in the fields
today are a raging injustice. The speed of production in hourly work is
commiserate with a contract pace in the old days; wages have stagnated for
decades and fallen seriously behind rising costs of living; cheating is such
that overtime pay, which comes only after 60 hours work a week, was referred to
by one veteran as “an unsubstantiated rumor”. A recent study in California
found that 80% of farmworker women have endured some kind of sexual harassment
or abuse related to work. So, I went to the labor commission one day to see for
myself what, in fact, protections they offered.
While I was there a couple of young workers came in. One had been fired, he claimed,
unjustly. He was looking for some
recourse. Here I will quote from that
part of <u>Lettuce Wars</u>: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">The commissioner was sympathetic, and took time to
hear the young man’s explanation. Finally she said, “You know, the fact is, the
company can fire you without any cause whatever. They don’t even have to have
an excuse, so there is really no way you can fight this.” Then, perhaps to soften
the blow, she added, “But you know, you can quit too, without any excuse or
explanation at all.” At that, I had to stop myself from laughing. The Labor
Commission woman had just summarized about as succinctly as one can the logic
of justice that lies at the heart of this “democracy”: “We can take away your
livelihood without cause or recourse. But you can quit, take away your own
livelihood, also without cause.” Here is the logic of a system based on the
exploitation of labor, and engaged in constant warfare to protect or expand
that exploitation: “We reserve the right to kill you, but you can also commit
suicide.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Human (though I prefer to call it inhuman)
exploitation demands the suffering of some as the prerequisite for the
sustenance of others, and for the ceaseless drive to accumulate capital. It is
the injustice at the base of all injustice, the foundation of the whole
capitalist edifice and the monstrous roadblock to human progress. No matter how
wired (or wireless) we become, how advanced our forms of transportation or
communication, how fine our instruments of discovery, how vast our ability to
produce, so long as we humans live off the suffering of one another, so long as
our social system rests on such relations of exploitation, we will remain
stunted, primitive and barbaric, violent, destructive, and unjust. So
foundational to this system are these relations of exploitation that they are
usually equated with human nature itself. We may continue, almost oblivious to
their historically limited role in our suffering, until that time when we no
longer can . . .<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">This past week <i>Beyond Chron</i> blogger Marc Norton,
commented, after reading the intro to <u>Lettuce Wars</u>, and then skipping to
the back of the book, “It doesn’t have a happy ending”. Indeed.
It’s more of a question than an answer.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I spent time interviewing
farmworkers at different of pick up spots around the state and came across many
examples of resistance and other potential. There were workers who protested
lack of pay for down time; young workers who contemplated collective work
stoppages to protest lack of overtime pay, a woman in Calexico who lead a
protest against the lack of proper drinking water, a Oaxacan worker in Huron
discussing the vast network that connects his indigenous Mexican compatriots,
women on a lettuce machine who laughingly recounted the “respectable” nicknames
the crew had given their labor contractor and supervisor – “Señor matagente”,
mister killer of people, and Señor “Quita cueros”, Mr. Skin you alive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">One morning I had a
conversation with some workers who’d never heard of Karl Marx but clearly and
succinctly summed up one of his key observations of this capitalist system –
its dirty little secret, and spoke about how tired they were of being treated
like “burros”. This is only the tiniest tip of that iceberg, of
what Marx referred to as the potential gravediggers of capitalism. For the chain of oppression that now covers
our planet, this web of oppressive relations that binds us together as never
before, has created a class of proletarians, working men and women, and those
who by other means manage to scrape together a living, and those enslaved,
sometimes literally, in this absurdly distorted and obsolete system – those who
feed us and provide the foundation upon which everything else exists. For a moment in time in the 1960s and 70’s
conditions emerged that allowed for a collective recognition of another kind of
world. Should another historical moment
arise, when cracks in the system allow the light of new possibilities to be
seen, will we be able to grab hold of that potential to bring about the end of
this madness? Will we be able to take a
decisive step into that more liberated world that Marx wrote of? The potential is there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">I’ll leave you with another
quote from Bob Avakian which I think speaks to that: <i>“Those who
this system has cast off, those it has treated as less than human, can be the
backbone and driving force of a fight not only to end their own oppression, but
to finally end all oppression, and emancipate all of humanity”.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you very much. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<!--EndFragment-->ccsf469http://www.blogger.com/profile/08280663667324218147noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-277899993383376852011-06-23T14:33:00.001-07:002013-05-31T07:57:33.086-07:00California Farm Workers of the 1970s: A Story Told from the Fields<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Much has been written over the years about Cesar Chavez and the United Farm Workers union, how it began, the struggles of the early union movement, the positive advances and more recently, about the internal repression in the latter part of the 1970’s and early 1980’s that choked off democratic life and processes.* Little has been written about the working conditions in the vegetable fields in those years (where the union movement had its base), and about the struggles that took place on the ground, in the crews – what they looked and felt like – those struggles that, for a time, changed conditions, aroused a broader public and put the growers and the apartheid-like system in California agriculture on the defensive. Nor has much been written about the radical movement of the late 60’s and early 70’s (including in Mexico) and how it both manifested itself among California farm workers and became a source of tension and struggle in the union.<br />
<a name='more'></a> <br />
The farm worker movement did not arise in a vacuum, but not a lot has been written about the broader social context in which it arose, nor about the broader class struggle of which it was part, and the role of Democratic Party and big labor “allies” of the farm workers in suppressing the more militant and conscious edge of that struggle. These are some of the issues around which the story in this book unfolds.<br />
<br />
Some will find parts of this book controversial, and in contradiction with the popular image and conception of this extremely important social movement. I can only say that this was the experience I lived, the conclusions that I drew from that experience, as best as I could represent it. <br />
<br />
<!--StartFragment--><span style="color: #0f0403; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">* See for example<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <i>The</i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> Union of Their Dreams</i> by Miriam Pawal or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Trampling Out the Vintage: Cesar Chavez and the Two Souls of the Farm Workers<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>by Frank Bardacke.</span><!--EndFragment--></div>
Don Sparkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07767498236178927424noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2629700335948833907.post-26148444090116194602011-06-23T13:55:00.000-07:002013-01-04T21:44:27.769-08:00A Memoir: Vietnam, GI Coffeehouses, COINTELPRO, Braceros, Strikes, Apartheid and Political Suppression within the Union<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
At the end of the 1960’s, at the height of the anti-war movement era, I was part of a core of radical student activists and Viet Nam vets that ran a GI coffeehouse in Seaside next to Fort Ord. When that project came to an end, a result of COINTELPRO type repression and changes in military policy, I stayed on working in Seaside. Then, from the Spring of 1971 until the winter of 1979, I worked in the fields of nearby Salinas Valley and other parts of California and Arizona. What began as a venture driven by curiosity and the need for a job turned into a decade of hard work, camaraderie, and political struggle.<br />
<br />
I thinned and harvested broccoli, cauliflower, and lettuce. I became a “lechuguero” working on a ground crew by piece rate. For some of those years I followed the ‘corrida’, the seasonal movement of crops up and down California between Salinas and the borderlands of the Imperial Valley and Yuma. I lived in the labor camps built in the bracero days and in Mexicali border hotels that housed workers during the winter crop. I was a participant of the “Division del Norte” down from Salinas that sparked the strike in Coachella in 1973 to take on the anti-union onslaught in the grapes; I was a UFW “submarine” in Gallo’s vineyard near Livingston in 1973, and in Watsonville’s apple orchards in 1974. I was in strikes, wildcats, walkouts and slowdowns waged to force growers to respect farm workers’ rights that the growers and contractors never ceased trying to undermine. I was immersed in the world of the farm workers. I was inspired their passion for justice, their hatred of oppression, and their humanity.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
I saw and lived from the standpoint of the fields a union struggle that rode the crest of a powerful upsurge. I was witness and participant of a great movement that faced off against the growers, challenged the long years of oppression and shook the apartheid system of California agriculture to its core.<br />
<br />
I was embroiled in that struggle and another one that emerged, as the decade progressed, within the union itself. I witnessed and was part of that internal struggle and became myself a target of suppression from a union leadership drifting to the right. As the tide of social upheaval ebbed and pressures built to end struggle in the fields, the top UFW leadership abandoned its progressive vision and sought a place at the table of power. What followed was the suppression of a rank and file movement that fought for a democratic voice and new direction within the union. I became familiar with how internal repression against a core of rank and file leaders lead to disillusionment, disaffection, and finally, the virtual destruction of the union itself. <br />
<br />
I had begun to document what I’d observed in those tumultuous years in the fields some years ago. But at the urging of friends and a nephew at Fordham, and my desire to grapple more deeply with what had gone on in those years, I began to put together this more complete account. While it is my personal account, many people helped me, including many veteran farm workers and former activists who related their stories, filled gaps in my recollections and offered great encouragement.<br />
<br />
<i>Lettuce Wars</i> is part memoir, part history. It is an effort to bring to life some of the workers and activists with whom I shared those years, as well as to place this struggle in the broader social and political context in which it emerged and unfolded. It is an effort to reveal the mainsprings of a movement whose influence is still present today, 40 years later. And, finally, it is an effort to reveal (in the Epilogue) some of what is going on in the fields today and what that might tell us about the limits of reform.</div>
Don Sparkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07767498236178927424noreply@blogger.com