Declan Welsh performed alongside Emme Woods at the Trump Rally in George Square on Friday 13 July 2018. He shares his thoughts about Trump, the rally, and why inaction isn’t an option.

On Friday I was asked by the Scottish Trades Union Congress to speak at the rally protesting Donald Trump. I performed my poem Lads, in reference to the President’s “locker room talk” defence.

I was delighted with the turnout, and in response to those who say “where were ye during Obama’s drone strikes” or “what about May and her aggressive immigration policies”. Aye. I totally agree. But know what isn’t gonna solve anything? Inaction. If there’s one good thing about Trump, it’s that he is the ugly, brazen face of this system. He shows it for what it is. Obama, May and others were (to varying degrees) slightly more palatable versions of it, but immigrants were still treated as sub human, and bombs still fell on the world’s poor.

There are, however, things unique to Trump as a figure. The way he speaks about women, immigrants, foreigners, and multiple other myriad issues has shifted discourse to a point where now, fascists are no longer scared. They feel like they are winning. And in many ways, they are. This is why it matters to turn up to these things. It is not your only responsibility, but it is one of many. If we come out in force, we begin to create our own movement. In solidarity with immigrants, with victims of sexual assault, with those affected by American imperialism, with African Americans, with environmentalists. We can use Trump, and his odious, toxic, caricature of an existence to rally against. First, we defeat the man, then we defeat the system.

So, aye, me saying a poem to a big crowd of socialists isn’t gonna change the world. But that big crowd of socialists might. And I, for one, want to be a part of that.

You can watch the video of Declan performing Lads here.

STUC General Secretary, Grahame Smith, shares his thoughts ahead of Trump’s UK visit. An abridged version of this was published in the Daily Record on 13 July 2018.

Donald Trump arrives in the UK this week. His encounters with our PM are nothing more than a convenient pretext for the real reason for his visit, the most expensive ever Scottish golfing holiday.

To some Trump is a figure of ridicule, and he has given the late night American talk show hosts plenty of opportunity to do just that. To some, including many white working class Americans, he is a figure of salvation from the drudgery of global capitalism. And to some, me included, he is a figure of dread, someone to be feared, someone who poses a significant threat to democracy.

We Scots like to think we are a welcoming people. But there are limits, and we should draw the line with Trump – a narcissistic, misogynist, sexist, racist, authoritarian, white supremacist, Nazi sympathizer.

Trump and the other authoritarian leaders, in whose company he appears most comfortable, pose a serious threat to us, to our planet, to democracy, to unions, to progressives across the world.

We should never forget the many lessons to be learned from history and it’s not as if we haven’t seen this movie before.

The rise of ultra-right, populist, protectionist, authoritarian regimes, has consistently followed a global economic crisis – just like the one we suffered in 2008.

Fascism makes progress by increments. It feeds off economic discontent. It manufactures and stokes ethnic, cultural and national grievance. It concentrates power in the hands of its elites. It ostracises minorities or outsiders – those who do not conform to its definition of what is morally or culturally acceptable, who are ‘less worthy’.

It eliminates opposition politically, in the media or in civic society – including trade unions.

Fascist regimes hate international institutions that would hold them to account against collective standards for human, labour and civil rights. They prefer the company of their own.

They justify their actions as upholding the rule of law – the law they create, however outrageous, and however divergent from international standards. Any decent is condemned as lawlessness and is ruthlessly crushed.

Trump’s actions certainly conform to this sinister pattern:

pulling the USA out of the Paris climate accord and the UN Human Rights Council and violating the rules of the WTO;

consistently criticising international institutions like the UN, the EU and WHO;

preferring the company of authoritarian dictators like Putin, Kim, Erdogan and Duterte, on whom he lavishes praise;

threatening to ‘lock up’ his political opponents, condemning those who challenge him, including the press and media,  as anti-American;

disregarding evidence to justify policy decisions while making a virtue out of ignorance, including his own;

attacking unions, collective bargaining  and workplace reps;

justifying the separation of families on the Mexico border and the interment of children as upholding the rule of law;

referring to those seeking asylum as people who infest America;

demeaning, through his words and actions, women; people with disabilities, African Americans, and the LGBT+ community;

retweeting disgusting and bogus videos of the UK’s far right; and

defending the Charlottesville Nazi’s who marched with their torches in defence of pro-slavery monuments, and amongst whom, Trump said, were ‘good people’.

There is no moral equivalence between fascists and anti-fascists as Trump tried to assert. There are fascists and those who oppose fascists, only one of those groups is right.

Theresa May has much to be ashamed of, but her sycophantic tolerance of Trump, despite his total disregard for her and the so called ‘special relationship’ between the USA and the UK, is near the top of the list.

It was disgraceful that a British PM ran hot foot to the White House to beg Trump to undertake a State visit. It says something that even the Queen finds Trump so odious that she baulked at that prospect.

When asked in the Commons about Trump’s detention of children her response was anaemic. An appropriate response would have been to cancel his visit.

This week, May has the opportunity to tell Trump some home truths. I’m not holding my breath. Trump is dangerous. He should not be appeased or pandered to. He should be condemned.

On Friday and over the weekend, thousands of people will join people’s protests against Trump. These protests are not anti-American. We stand shoulder to shoulder with all Americans who fear Trump as much as we do and who are actively resisting: the Women’s March; Black Lives Matter; Planned Parenthood; progressive trade unions; the Human Rights Campaign; and many other groups and individuals from the political left; from industry, sports and the media.

The STUC and unions will be prominent in these protests. It is our responsibility to defend democracy at home and abroad.

Democracy is about more than putting a vote in a ballot box on Election Day. Political institutions need to be influenced and held to account by wider civic society of which unions are a central part.  We have a crucial role to play in defending fundamental human rights and civil liberties. Building union membership and organisation has never been more important not just to improve rights at work but to stand up for democracy.

 

On Nelson Mandela Day (18 July), we are sharing the full text of our interview with Brian Filling, Chair of the Nelson Mandela Scottish Memorial Foundation and Honorary Consul for South Africa in Scotland. We interviewed Brian for our Congress Programme 2018. 

Can you tell us about the role of trade unions in the anti-apartheid struggle?

Trade Unions in Britain were great supporters of the anti-apartheid movement. The STUC was ahead of the TUC in many ways because they recognised the South African Congress of Trade Unions (SACTU) and the ANC years before the TUC. In comparison, the TUC tried to work with the “Uncle Tom” trade unions – the white dominated Trade Union Council of South Africa, but the STUC never did. It wasn’t until 1981 that the TUC changed its policy.

NALGO (now UNISON) Glasgow City Branch gave the Anti-Apartheid Movement Scottish Committee an office to use. Another notable example was the RMT – at that time the National Seamen Union – who staged an extremely successful boycott of shipping North Sea oil to South Africa. USDAW members in Dunnes Stores in Ireland held a very successful boycott of South African goods.

BIFU, the banking union, now part of UNITE the Union, and many others like the Civil Service unions, Transport & General Workers Union and the AEUW, the engineers’ union, also did a lot of important work. And of course, so many individual branches across Scotland invited speakers from the campaign to meetings, they raised funds, they hosted exiled South African trade unionists; it really did spread rapidly, and the trade unions were the bed rock of the support for the campaign, and often dug it out of financial trouble.

In later years, the STUC invited speakers from the Congress of South African Trade Unions (COSATU) and South African TUC (SATUC) to Congress, and Scottish affiliates would invite delegates from their sister South African unions, so there was always a lot of support and activity. In 1994, six months after the first election and the end of apartheid, we took a 30-strong delegation to South Africa, including six STUC General Council members. It was a fantastic experience for everyone – we were hosted in Parliament by the Deputy Foreign Minister, who had previously been in exile.  We were invited to visit a hospital and over 300 stewards were there to welcome us. Even though they were poor and didn’t have very much, they put on a party that lasted well into the night. It was unforgettable.

Can you tell us about the South African trade union movement during the apartheid period and its role in the struggle?

In the early 1960s, when Mandela was arrested along with the others in the Rivonia trial, it really decapitated the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa. Many leading people had been sent out of SA, like Oliver Tambo who moved to London in 1960, because it was so dangerous, they knew they were going to be caught and imprisoned.

This was the time of the Sharpesville massacre (March 1960), a watershed moment in the struggle, marking a move to a more violent, more intense period of state repression. In response, the ANC took up the armed struggle. Mandela became commander-in-chief of Umkhonto weSizwe (“Spear of the Nation”) or ‘MK’.  They were still organising underground, but they kept getting arrested, being killed in prison. It really was a particularly hard time for the struggle after Rivonia, but eventually a new generation emerged. A key date was 1976 with the Soweto uprising, a lot of students were killed, and it acted as a recruiting aid, a lot of people left to join the armed struggle, literally 1000s joined the armed struggle.

There had always been trade unions in SA but they were banned, of course, for much of this time, and trade union members suffered harassment, imprisonment, torture and assassination. A contradiction in apartheid was that you would get some groups of workers coming together and forming a union, and the employer would negotiate with them, even though they were banned. The Apartheid government was left in a difficult position, and of course they tried to clamp down, they could see that trade unions were a way in which South Africans could join together and claim some power. It was particularly common in mining – Cyril Ramaphosa formed the National Union of Mineworkers in 1982 and successfully fought for an end to the job reservation system, which ensured that the best paid jobs went to white people. The NUM became the largest union in South Africa. Of course, Ramaphosa is now the President of South Africa.

The SATUC was banned, but COSATU was formed and it really took off. In the mid-80s, it was very well organised, with literally thousands of people joining trade unions. It was formed by 33 anti-apartheid unions who were committed to a non-racial, non-sexist and democratic South Africa. It was one of the big elements that put pressure on the apartheid government in the 80s, that and sanctions.

What was the British state’s involvement at this time?

A number of countries imposed sanctions on the South African regime, but Britain – led then by Thatcher – was one of the last countries to take these measures. Thatcher was completely isolated in her position – every country in the Commonwealth was for sanctions on SA. Thatcher was, of course, close to Regan and they shared a similar view of South Africa, but even the US moved quicker than Britain.

 Once Mandela was elected in 1994 was that the end, or has there been a continued relationship between Scotland and South Africa?

The Anti-Apartheid movement discussed what would happen after the elections, and it was agreed that Action for South Africa (ACTSA) would be formed. Although there had a been an election, the country still had suffered under 300 years of colonialism and apartheid, and it was recognised that South Africans were still going to need international solidarity, albeit of a different kind.

Prior to the end of apartheid, we had twinned Anti-Apartheid Movement regions of the UK with ANC regions in South Africa: Scotland was linked with the Transkei for historical reasons. Scots missionaries had established the Lovelace Institute there, which was the longest lasting non-racial high schools in South Africa and a lot of leading South Africans had been educated there. The first principle was William Govan – Govan Mkbeki was named after him and went to school there. He was later jailed at Rivonia. Forthare University was also formed by Scots missionaries in this area, and still to this day is one of the leading universities for Black Africans. Mandela studied there along with many leaders from other African countries. So because of these connections, we were twinned with the Transkei ANC; it later became the Eastern Cape Province.

We encouraged local branches to link up with each other too. We had educational institutions, local authorities, churches all linked up. So, for example we twinned Glasgow City Council with Amathole District Municipality. They used Commonwealth monies to fund the exchange of good practice; staff would visit from each country to learn from each other and it went on for many years. We were keen to promote very practical support, not just symbolic actions.

Do you think that’s why the links are so strong, because it’s about practical solidarity not just protests and rallies?

ACTSA at a national level became very different from the anti-apartheid movement. It became about lobbying Brussels and London and had no interest in local groups so they unfortunately died. But we continued with this in Scotland and we tried to continue these people to people links, but often they are hard to maintain as people move on and connections are lost, but some very good things happened and still do. For example, Glasgow Caledonian University offered to give Mandela an honorary doctorate, but he would only accept it if they committed themselves to offering support to rebuild South Africa. Glasgow Caledonian University twinned with the University of Transkei and nursing staff were sent out on three-month secondments; over a couple of years they worked with South African nurses to develop a whole new curriculum for nursing students and this was eventually taken up across the whole country.

They then began to send over physiotherapists, podiatrists, and visual science specialists to help train people to work in public institutions. During apartheid, these specialists often only treated white middle class patients so there was a lack of skills and experience in the black African medical profession. GCU students continue to volunteer in South Africa on the Phelophepa Health Train which brings health care to millions of people who live in rural areas of the country. Visual science students have told me they often see 40-50 patients a day on the train, with some carrying out cataract removal procedures, just wonderful stories of people leaving the train dancing into the night with their sight fully restored. There are 55 students going out to work on the train soon and by the end of this year 400 students will have worked on the train. It’s known in GCU but probably not widely, it’s great example of the continued way we continue to provide practical solidarity to South Africans.

That brings us on to now and the campaign for the Nelson Mandela statue. Why do you think we need a statue?

Naturally, if people didn’t live through things, it just becomes history. History is often written by the victors, but in this case the state doesn’t want us to remember the role they played in apartheid. It’s the same people in power in the UK and America now, so they are rewriting history to suit their own agenda. Thatcher’s ambassador to the UK wrote in his memoir that she was the one who secured Mandela’s release, so they are attempting to rewrite this period in history, so that’s part of it.

But also, today, if you stop fighting racism it comes back, it never goes away. There are those who it is in their interest to keep racism alive because it divides people, and there are others who are just ignorant and don’t understand. The statue is just one part of it, but it also about education and the activity around the statue that we are planning.

The statue is a physical marker of the need to continue to fight racism, to remind us that people can fight for change in the world and win it, and to commemorate the role that Scotland and Glasgow played in the anti-apartheid struggle. When Mandela addressed the crowds in George Square in 1993 he said, “While we were physically denied our freedom, a city 6,000 miles away, and as renowned as Glasgow, refused to accept the legitimacy of the apartheid system.”

Glasgow was the first city in the world to give Mandela freedom when he was still in prison on Robben Island. We approached the Lord Provost Michael Kelly to launch a worldwide Lord Mayors’ petition calling for the release of Mandela. This was followed by the renaming of Nelson Mandela Place in 1986. In 1988, we began a march from Glasgow to London, with 24 marchers to represent each year Mandela has been imprisoned. It left from Glasgow Green and a crowd of 30,000. So that connection with Glasgow is worth commemorating. Freedom of the City is ephemeral, you can’t see it, but you can see a statue.

What can trade unions do to support the campaign now?

Donations are extremely important, not just for the statue but all the planning and legal processes involved, and all the educational activities we have planned. Branches can invite speakers to meetings and events, and we have lots of materials and information that can be shared on our website.

We think it is especially important for younger generations to learn about this period of history. It’s not just about the anti-apartheid struggle in SA, but the effects that were felt across the continent, the problems caused by colonialism. People need to understand the root causes of the problems we see now. Apartheid has been defeated but the capitalist rulers are still exploiting South Africa and other countries in the region. Look at the Bell Potinger case, he was Thatcher’s head strategist during the miners’ strikes, and he was brought into South Africa by the Guptas. Their undoing was attempting to stir up racial tensions to justify their exploitation of the South African working classes, to attempt to divide people further.

There is a big responsibility on us to remind people of the role of British capitalism in supporting colonialism and apartheid but we also need to record the role of trade unions taking action in solidarity with their brothers and sisters in South Africa. I have no doubt that the trade unions will wish to support our campaign to create a statue of Nelson Mandela as a commemoration of the struggle against apartheid and their role in solidarity.

The Nelson Mandela Scottish Memorial Foundation is holding a fundraising gala dinner, on 24th August 2018, to celebrate the life and legacy of Nelson Mandela in this centenary year of his birth, and to raise funds both for a permanent memorial in Nelson Mandela Place, Glasgow and for the educational activities which the statue is designed to promote. You can find out more about this, and other ways you can support the campaign, here.

30 years ago, 167 workers lost their lives on the Piper Alpha platform in the North Sea. Some bodies were never recovered. Countless other lives were changed forever. The industry should have been shocked and shamed into changing its ways that night, to put the safety of its workers first.

The subsequent Cullen Inquiry ruled that the explosion, and the resulting oil and gas fires, were caused by inadequate maintenance and safety procedures by the operator Occidental. Like Grenfell Tower, the choices made by the companies involved, that led to untold human misery, were driven by their prioritisation of cost cutting and profiteering.

The Offshore unions have stated that the UK Oil and Gas Industry has learned little from Piper Alpha, with much of the progress made over the past 30 years being slowly but surely stripped away as the never-ending pursuit of corner-cutting and cost-savings takes priority. In a recent blog to mark this anniversary, Unite the Union’s Pat Rafferty shares the story of a young man who was working off-shore the night the tragedy took place. He has grave concerns about the health & safety practice in the industry today and fears a second Piper Alpha is a looming reality.

It is greatly encouraging that Unite the Union’s members on the Alwyn, Dunbar and Elgin platforms are due to begin strike action later this month, fighting back against unsafe changes to their working practices and hours. It comes at a poignant time, and I am sure those 167 lives will not be far from their minds.

Former offshore worker Henry Cairney, who lost close friends on Piper Alpha, penned this poem about the disaster and he has asked that we share it:

Piper’s Tune

The morning air was crisp and clear, today’s shift change was drawing near,

Some worked below, some rose on high, both shall meet soon eye to eye,

One thinking of the day ahead, another thinks of going to bed,

Yes here they are, men one and all, soon some will live and some will fall.

 

All quiet at the breakfast table, some wonder one day if they’re able,

To leave this way of life for good, and elevate above this mood,

Of sometimes joy, and sometimes pain, walking out in freezing rain,

To trudge down steps and start the toil, and raise this nation’s bloody oil.

 

The day has past, he thinks with pride, and climbs once more the monster’s side,

To mingle with the off-shift crew, relax, before it starts anew.

He feeds, showers, and settles down, to another night in this little town,

If only he could see through time, he’d know, he’ll never reach his prime.

 

He’s heard the rumble from down below, the flickering lights give an eerie glow,

And stumbling forward to the door, with fear that strikes him to the core,

His cries that join a chorus loud, came from a man once tall and proud,

His fate decided, a final story, of a life which could have reaped more glory.

 

Heart beating, on and one he’ll blunder, whilst all around it sounds like thunder,

And finally reaching a hopeful crowd, relief and comfort, he cried aloud,

He’ll never know this ray of hope, was suspended from a lighted rope,

His judgement clouded within the mire, that would be engulfed by Satan’s fire.

 

Outside the haven, a second blast, has meant that hope is fading fast,

To rescue all aboard this structure, a body now that’s set to puncture,

A small proportion flee and wonder, why all this could have come asunder,

Reflecting in evening gloom, they’ll witness and, record this doom.

 

A boat, a plane, a chopper came, all with a goal, which was the same,

To raise some hope when all seems lost, before statistics count the cost,

The crisis grows tho’ helps at hand, to transport some, back to the land,

Decisions now mean life and death, the choice of course could mean last breath.

 

One man laughed, a second cried, and very close another died,

Oh Lord please aid this stricken crowd, one cried from the clothes, his burning shroud,

A friend, a foe, it matters nought, we stumbled forward, more shelter sought,

But not tonight my friend, alas, you face the wall, you shall not pass.

 

The flames are gaining, never stopped, by puny water, the pump’s are blocked,

A safety vessel that cost so dear, the captain decided he would not come near,

Watching and waiting, for God knows why, first to suffer, and then to die,

The cards are dealt, one by one, as the smoke thickens with the dying sun.

 

A second blast engulfs the members, the odds diminish with the dying embers,

Those in the haven we fear the most, to Jones’s locker, they all are lost,

Confusion reigns, as demons fed, with pressured gas, where no one led,

To cut the fuel, on their opinion, clearly wrong, tyrant domination.

 

The aftermath, a clear bright day, a sight so awful, to all, dismay,

They gaze upon the shattered shell, some look, but most they cannot dwell,

The dragons breath still lingers still, a knight required to end the kill,

And finish once for all this game, of chess, lost, in deepest shame.

 

The few that made it back to shore, will grieve this day forever more,

A shrine that pours our heartfelt pity, stands within the Granite city,

Inquiry, courts, and legal battle, now fuel the Scots with bickering prattle,

But ne’er forget, it is too soon, the lonely, haunting, Piper’s Tune.