HENZHEN, China — The hall had all the trappings of a solemn political ceremony in Communist China, a dais with officials and executives in the seats of honor, ballot collectors and ballot counters, and a big red banner that announced a ÿdemocratic union election.ÿþþLiao Yuanxin, the local chief of the government's All-China Federation of Trade Unions, listed candidates to represent workers of Neil Pryde, a foreign-run sportswear factory. For union committee member: two workers and two company managers. For vice chairman: the human resources director. For chairman: Huang Hongguang, a top factory boss.þþLeft off the dais, and off the list, was Liu Youlin, a dogged 29-year-old clothing cutter who had campaigned, petitioned and agitated until officials agreed to set up the union. But according to his account and those of other workers present, he made himself heard.þþÿI object to the factory manager being named head of the union,ÿ Mr. Liu shouted from the floor, interrupting Mr. Liao's address. ÿA boss cannot represent workers.ÿþþWhen the vote proceeded anyway, fellow workers protested by denying the requisite 50 percent majority to all but the two worker candidates, rendering the new union leaderless — and effectively stillborn.þþMr. Liu's struggle to unionize workers at Neil Pryde, a leading maker of sailing and windsurfing gear sold globally under its own name and for brands like Quiksilver and Billabong, is emblematic of the battle workers are waging to earn basic rights in China's fast-growing export industries.þþChina's socialist laws theoretically protect workers even as the country embraces capitalist ways. But the police crush efforts to set up independent unions as threats to the Communist Party. Many workers say the sole legal state-run union is a charade, a feckless bureaucracy that has only the pretense of representing the proletariat.þþÿLocal authorities sacrifice workers for investors,ÿ said Mr. Liu, a migrant who has worked at the Neil Pryde factory for seven years. ÿThey do not respect or enforce the laws.ÿþþMr. Liao and other union officials in Bao An, the Shenzhen district where Neil Pryde's factory is, declined numerous requests to discuss the issue. Company executives said that they planned to establish a union but added that such things move slowly in China. They said having a factory manager serve as head of the union complied with the law, though workers disputed that.þþÿIn China you must take things step by step,ÿ said Ringo S. Y. Li, a senior factory official. ÿIt will not happen overnight, but we are moving in the right direction.ÿþþSome 20 years after it began attracting billions of dollars in foreign investment, Shenzhen and the surrounding province of Guangdong have become the world's largest and most dynamic manufacturing center, making everything from shoes to Sony PlayStations.þþBut the region's success depends on an endless turnover of migrants from the hinterland, who rarely become full local residents and are effectively prohibited from bargaining for a share of the profits.þþAlthough all Chinese and foreign companies with more than 100 employees are required by law to open a branch of the national union, company executives acknowledge that they generally ignore that rule. Those that do set up a union often do so in name only, putting managers in charge and rarely if ever holding meetings that include workers.þþAs least partly as a result, working conditions here have improved only marginally. Most migrants live behind high factory walls in crowded dormitories. They often work 12 hours a day, seven days a week. Local recruitment centers are packed with workers who quit jobs in exhaustion or were fired when their employer had a dip in orders.þþThough Guangdong has maintained a double-digit rate of economic growth during the past decade, wages for migrant workers, adjusted for inflation, have fallen during the same period, according to research by the Institute of Contemporary Observation in Shenzhen. Base pay often falls below legal minimums, and overtime hours often greatly exceed regulated maximums.þþþþ
Source: NY Times