
Organizing a Broader,
Stronger Movement
1930 - 1940
The Madison Labor movement changed dramatically during the 1930s. Although the explosive strikes that rocked Minneapolis, Toledo, and the Southern mill towns were not repeated in Madison, there was a dramatic shift in the size and composition of the city’s union movement.
The Depression hit Madison hard. Between 1929 and 1933, the number of building permits shrank from nearly 5,000 to 312. Thousands were thrown out of work, and many of those with jobs saw their wages slashed by 30 to 50 percent. Lower wages did not mean more work, however, and the trades membership dropped by 50 percent. The unions helped their members as best they could. Building trades locals voted assessments on those with jobs, the Typographical Union blocked pay cuts at the profitable Capital Times and used assessments and job-sharing to aid its members.
For many workers, however, there was no alternative to public relief. In 1933, the Dane County Unemployed Workers League confronted the County Board over relief policies. Led by Boilermakers’ activist and former Madison Federation of Labor officer William Forrest, more than 1,000 relief workers struck against the Board’s policy of paying 80 percent of relief earnings in store orders. Strikers sought cash wages for relief work and an end to make-work jobs. They demanded that the county stop using them to replace regular county employees.
Insisting that “we don’t want charity, we want cash for our work,” protesters stopped trucks, picketed supervisors’ homes, and packed the courthouse to force a meeting with relief officials. But after three months, the supervisors broke the strike.
The
Thirties were a watershed for the Madison labor movement as the hard times of
the Depression spurred some workers to act on long-standing grievances. By 1940,
workers had shattered the open shop on the East Side by organizing the city’s
three largest factories--Gisholt, Oscar Mayer and Rayovac. Other workers made
breakthroughs in the service sector. Although legislators would not pass collective
bargaining laws for public employees until the 1950s and 1960s, city, county,
and state workers began organizing for better conditions.
During 1931-34, public employees fought back against budget-cutters. In 1931, firefighters formed Local 311. Two years later, a 15 percent to 30 percent pay cut spurred activity among other municipal workers. After three years, they won a public referendum restoring their wage rates.
Organizing began among state workers in 1932. At first, they formed an independent AFL local; and by 1934, the Wisconsin State Employees’ Association was the largest local in the Madison Fed. In 1936, the WSEA joined with public employees elsewhere in the country to form the American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees (AFSCME) and became Local 1 of the new union. The WSEA’s head, Arnold Zander, became AFSCME’s first president; and the union’s national headquarters remained in Madison until 1957.
|
Organizing After the 1929 stock market crash, there were many
reports of wage cuts. In the early 1930s, there was a wage cut notice
on our bulletin board. All the employees walked to the locker room. |
Oscar Mayer workers made the breakthrough at the city’s industrial plants. In summer, 1933, a handful of workers held their first union meeting. During the Depression, management had slashed wages to 28 cents per hour for men and 25 cents for women. More importantly, workers objected to favoritism and arbitrary treatment by management.
Bob Schultz, one of Local 538’s founders, recalled that “there were no set hours at all before the union. There was just whatever the boss wanted you to do, and you had nobody to complain to.”
“After you had the union, why you got some protection. There was no protection before. The ‘yes’ men were protected pretty good but the other ones weren’t.”
Aided by local unionists and a campus supporter, the meat packers formed Amalgamated Meatcutters Local 538. For nine months, the company refused to deal with the union. Membership dropped off as the union was unable to do anything for its members.
In May, 1934, the union took a strike vote. Because only 51 percent voted to walk out, national union officials told the Madison local to stay on the job. Fearing that inaction would kill the union, activists decided to risk a wildcat strike. “Some of us thought it was now or never,” said Schultz. “We were afraid if we lost the chance, well nobody else would sign up again.”
The gamble paid off. Once the union acted, the strike was nearly 100 percent effective. Within 24 hours, the company had come to terms, recognizing the union and agreeing to seniority rights. Management reneged on a no-reprisals pledge, firing Schultz and other activists; but the union’s position was secure.
Several weeks before the Oscar’s strike, workers began organizing at Rayovac. One women activist recalled that “a few of us decided we should organize a union ... .we met at the Labor Temple ... and signed a charter.”
For the battery workers, favoritism and lack of seniority rights made seasonal layoffs a serious problem. Evelyn Gotzion remembers that before the union, “if you had a good job and did your work good and someone didn’t particularly like you, you could be laid off first.
“At the time when I first started, we had no unemployment compensation and you just waited to get called back and we had no union and you never knew for sure if you were going to get called back. So I think one of the greatest things that happened so far as I was concerned when our union started was we had seniority rights …. Everybody was treated fairly.”
Despite company resistance, by 1940, the battery workers had not only won seniority rights but also increased their wages, narrowed the gap between rates paid to men and women and established a grievance procedure.
The Rayovac union – Federal Labor Union Local 19587 – demonstrated the change in the Madison labor movement. As one of the city’s largest locals, this industrial union brought large numbers of women as well semi-skilled men into the AFL. The local held dances to fund sick benefits for its members. It cooperated with unemployed organizations, provided grocery orders to laid off members and demanded the right to represent them a relief hearings. Like many industrial unions formed during the Thirties, Local 19587 was concerned about social and political issues. When other workers struck, they could count on donations and picket line support from the battery workers.
A second wave of union activity swept Madison during the late Thirties. CIO sympathizers at the Madison Federation of Labor helped Gisholt workers organize a Steel Workers local and helped establish the UAW at Burgess Battery.
At first, local unionists opposed the bitter rivalry between national AFL leaders and the CIO. This policy changed in 1937 when the MFL expelled its treasurer, Cedric Parker, for helping Gisholt and Burgess workers organize into CIO unions.
The CIO controversy involved jurisdictional jealousies as well as pressure from the AFL officials in Milwaukee, but the dispute also reflected a split between some longtime Madison Federation of Labor members and the newer unions that favored more aggressive policies and a broader view of the labor movement that meant closer ties to unemployed groups and concern for issues like public housing.
This conflict had a high price. Competition made the AFL more active in organizing; and the AFL dominated the city’s labor movement; but the split caused some AFL industrial unions to cut back their involvement in the Fed.
Still, the union movement made major advances during the Thirties. In 1930, approximately 1,500 workers belonged to unions – nearly all of them skilled craft workers employed on construction sites or in small workshops. Ten years later, six to seven thousand carried union cards, and workers had organized the city’s three largest plants. Besides the building trades, Madison unions now represented thousands of factory and government employees as well as semi-skilled service workers.
