41a8yeeffl_ou01_aa240_sh20_.thumbnail.jpg(Please welcome in the comments Paul Frymer, author of Black and Blue: African Americans, the Labor Movement, and the Decline of the Democratic Party -- jh)

There is something really timely about this book. I've mentioned this particular paragraph to most of the people I've substantively talked with over the past week or so, and though I hate to drag the presidential election into anything else, the book has affected the way I view it and the dynamic between various ethnic and gender groups that often see themselves at odds in this race:

As with Cathy Cohen's study of homophobia in the African American community, this book examines prejudices among groups that have little power themselves in American society. Labor unions have never dominated American politics; they have had moments of significant influence, but this power has always been precarious and necessitated bargains and compromises that weakened the more progressive elements of the coalition. In many ways, unions were at the forefront of civil rights policy advances. At the same time, labor had a significant internal race problem. Similarly, the civil rights groups such as the NAACP have fought for power and influence largely from the sidelines. The NAACP and local civil rights organizations have been critically important in helping to mobilize black workers to join and be more active participants in the labor movement. Yet, the NAACP made choices at different times that led it to attack potential allies (notably those whose economic ideology was to the left of the NAACP) and misconstrue and ignore some of the demands of those they attempted to represent.

The complex relationship between labor and African Americans has been, according to Frymer, exacerbated by a two-party political system designed to encourage "compromise" between various groups needed to create a majority, rather than provide real leadership:

The initial design of the American party system in the 1820s was motivated by the desire to induce politicians to talk to moderates, not to those demanding strong action on slavery. That system has since taken on an independent life, but with similary consequences: to win elections, politicians believe they must court NASCAR dads, soccer moms, and "silent majorities" at the expense of racial equality.

That dynamic was very much in evidence, Frymer notes, during the passage of the Wagner Act in 1935, "labor's magna carta," protecting the rights of workers to unionize, to engage in collective bargaining and to strike. At the time Franklin Roosevelt signed the act, African Americans comprised less that 1% of the labor movement. While often viewed as a triumph of the New Deal coalition, the legislation could not have been passed without the help of populist Dixiecrats who insisted that unions have the right to prohibit African Americans from membership, and also to sign collective bargaining agreements that discriminated based on race.

It was a crippling compromise with destructive long-term consequences.

The regulatory arm established by the Wagner Act, the NLRB, largely ignored claims of racial discrimination, saying that such matters weren't really in its purview. And although the top leadership of many labor organizations such as the CIO and the UAW worked closely with the NAACP to support its agenda and promote it both financially and within its own membership, they were often at odds with racist locals who staunchly opposed integration of their ranks. It left leadership in a position where "doing the right thing" and supporting African American union members who were important to their growth also meant hemorrhaging white union members (largely in the South) and thus weakening what they saw as their power to advocate for all their members.

It wasn't until the passage of Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which prohibits employment discrimination based on race, color, religion, sex and national origin, that legislation was passed that could effectively begin to force integration. But ironically, it was a provision in the act allowing for attorneys' fees to be paid to victorious litigants that created a very effective enforcement mechanism. That, and rules amended in 1966 which allowed or class action suits, "provided the prototypical example of where giving private lawyers a financial incentive enabled hem to perform a public good."

What neither congress nor the regulatory agencies had been able to do was achieved by threat of huge litigation and penalty costs to the labor unions. In 1970, there were 350 federal court cases involving Title VII litigation; by 1975, this number had reached roughly 1,500 and by 1983, the number had reached 9,000 cases.

The percentage of minority membership in unions dramatically increased:

Union 1968 1972 1978 1983
Asbestos Workers .01 2.9 7.2 10.2
Boilermakers 7.6 9.6 17.6 15.9
Bricklayers 12.5 12.7 14.5 15.3
Carpenters 4.9 9.7 12.9 12.6
Electrical Workers 5.1 6.6 10.1 10.5
Elevator Constructors 2.5 5.1 6.3 7.8
Hotel and Restaurant 23.4 31.5 44.7 51.5
Iron Workers 5.3 6.5 11.6 12.1
Operating Engineers 4.3 5.1 12.0 11.8
Painters 12.0 13.9 17.7 19.3
Plasterers 25.4 31.4 36.2 37.1
Plumbers/Pipefitters 2.1 3.6 8.0 8.0
Sheet Metal Workers 2.6 6.4 8.2 11.0
Stage/Motion Picture 4.3 8.9 9.7 11.3
Teamsters 16.0 N/A 26.3 26.5

It did not come without a price, however. As Frymer notes, some union -- like the Sheet Metal Workers in New York -- were "bled to death" -- they went bankrupt, having assets of only $2.5 million and forced to pay over $12 million in back wages.

As Frymer notes:

Justice Thurgood Marshall wrote in a fair representation breach by the IBEW that punitive damage awards not only would deplete union treasuries, they would impair "the effectiveness of unions as collective bargaining agents. Inflicting this risk on employees, whose welfare depends on the strength of their union, is simply too great a price for whatever deterrent effect punitive damages may have."

There isn't enough space here to do the book justice, but Frymer devotes his book to the exploration of the thesis that racism in America is seen as a psychological issue, a problem of individuals. Both labor unions and the Democratic party largely adopted the notion that if only the "pie" was bigger and racist individuals dispensed with, it would cease to be a problem. But as he notes, the legislative failures that came about as a result of appeasing racist coalitions when crafting union and civil rights laws caused two groups which very much needed each other to be weakened in the ensuing conflict. Integration was achieved, but the mechanism for doing so was one of the many factors leading to the disempowerment of labor unions which had negative impact on wages and working conditions for union members and non-members alike of all races.

Which brings me back to my somewhat tortured metaphor involving the current Presidential race. The fractures between these groups who were important allies for each other was often exploited by powerful forces looking to disempower both. As Frymer concludes:

[A]ny success they may have will need to rely less on mobilizing and organizing and more on a frank recognition of the realities of democratic representation. This means the two movements must realize that they need each other. They also have to recognize that democratic politics are messy, and that choices will continually need to be made that will pit both movements against democratic purists. Once we escape the nostalgic glow of what people falsely claim to be the democratic project, we can more honestly and realistically go forward to bring about substantially greater equality.

Please welcome Paul Frymer to the book salon.