Trouble Ahead

Labor is the largest organized politi cal pressure group in the U.S., but it is neither happy nor effective as it ap proaches 1967. The 90th Congress shows every sign of being the first Congress in many years from which labor has no hope of winning any prolabor legislation at all. Several major strikes in 1966 that greatly inconvenienced the public -- including the airline and New York transit strikes -- have given labor a tarnished image, and its fracturing of the economic guidelines has not exactly made it popular in Washington. Finally, the U.S. labor movement has fallen to quarreling within itself at a time when it faces serious challenges and organizational difficulties.

Last week the long-run feud between Walter Reuther, boss of the United Auto Workers, and George Meany, president of the A.F.L.-C.I.O. (TIME, Dec. 2), escalated to a new peak of bitterness when Reuther announced that the U.A.W. had decided "to exert our independence" of the A.F.L.-C.I.O. on is sues of its choosing. Reuther showed some of that independence by withholding from the A.F.L.-C.I.O. $232,000 in auto workers' dues for two months, finally paying an installment of half the amount last week. Though few in the labor movement believe that Reuther will pull out of the giant federation, he is expected to pursue an even more defiant course, further weakening the organization's unity of purpose.

Notoriously Lethargic. The strains show elsewhere. Though the A.F.L.-C.I.O. claims to have reversed a seven-year trend of dwindling membership, it has been notoriously lethargic in recruiting the unskilled. Last month, in New York State's Catskill Mountains resort area, ten A.F.L.-C.I.O. locals, representing such craftsmen as carpenters and electricians, actually opposed higher minimum wages for busboys, maids and other nonunion hotel employees, complaining that the increased costs might force some hotels to close and cut down on employment of trade-unionists. Though some member unions have taken at least token steps to ease discrimination against Negroes, many have yet to support the civil rights drive as fervently as they might. Moreover, labor continues to be peculiarly apathetic about corruption. Last week in New York City, Martin Rarback, a painters' union ex-official under indictment on charges of pocketing $840,000 in bribes from contractors, was reappointed to an organizing post in his union.

With a major round of new contracts coming up in 1967, labor is sure to try to top the estimated average settlement of 4.5% that it made in 1966 (v. the 3.2% guideposts, which have since been unofficially upped to 5%). Demands are already being heard for legislation to deal with any resulting strikes against the public interest--promised, but never delivered, by President Johnson this year. Last week Floyd D. Hall, president of Eastern Air Lines, asked in a Detroit speech: "Is there no other way to settle our differences than by open conflict that injures those who have little or no involvement in the strike itself?" New York's liberal Republican Senator Jacob Javits has proposed a law under which courts could appoint receivers to operate struck vital facilities.

Not Much Hope. On another front, the National Right to Work Committee, an organization formed in 1955 to fight compulsory union membership, has stepped up its drive to outlaw union shops in the 31 states where they are permitted. One target of the committee's efforts is Section 14(b) of the Taft-Hartley Act, which allows such shops unless states specifically forbid them. The committee would like to amend 14(b) to make union shops illegal unless states authorize them. As it happens, labor for years has also opposed 14(b), seeking its repeal in order to eliminate the state veto. Neither side has much hope of success on 14(b), but the committee also intends to try to outlaw union shops in a few states through legislative action or by referendum. It senses labor's current vulnerability.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.