The Puzzle of the Post-Communist Proletariat: Russian Labor in Comparative-Historical Perspective RUDRA SIL University of Pennsylvania ---------------DRAFT PAPER

Prepared for Talk Sponsored by CDATS/CERES, Georgetown University February 3, 2005 --------------Most recent studies of labor relations in Russia and throughout the postcommunist world offer a starkly pessimistic view. Organized labor is seen as lacking the motivation and/or the capacity to defend workers rights. Workers are seen as mistrustful of unions and more willing to depend on informal arrangements with employers to defend their most immediate interests. And, government and business elites are seen as far more interested in maintaining industrial peace and control over production than in promoting social partnership or respecting international labor standards.1 In the case of Russia, as Crowley notes, the Russian trade unions and the state have clearly failed to protect labor in the most basic sense, and to the extent that unemployment levels have not risen more sharply and workers are managing to survive, this is largely because of workers welfare has been left to the mercy of enterprises and their managers.2

1 See, e.g., Stephen Crowley and David Ost, eds. Workers After Workers States: Labor and Politics in Postcommunist Eastern Europe (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2001), 2 Stephen Crowley, The Social Explosion That Wasnt: Labor Quiescence in Postcommunist Russia, in Crowley and Ost, p. 212. Even compared to other postcommunist contexts, some view Russian labor relations as particularly troubled; see Graeme Robertson, The Madding Crowd: Politics and Protest in New Democracies, presented at the Annual Meeting of the American Political Science Association, San Francisco, August 30 - September 2, 2001. A partial exception to this trend is Victor Zaslavsky, who sees labor relations as being in a process of transition; see his The Russian Working Class in Times of Transition, in Victoria Bonnell and George Breslauer, eds. Russia in the New Century (Boulder: Westview, 2001).

In explaining this state of affairs, numerous studies have emphasized the legacy of Soviet-era labor relations, particularly the role of unions as transmission belts of the partystate apparatus and the dependence of workers on their enterprises for access to an array of non-wage benefits.3 The responsibility for perpetuating these legacies is placed chiefly upon unions, particularly the Federation of Independent Trade Unions of Russia (FNPR), which was carved out of the official trade union apparatus of the Soviet Union. But, workers are also viewed as habitually more inclined to identify their interests with those of the enterprise rather than participate in collective action in defense of their rights and livelihoods. In this way, the Soviet inheritance supposedly represents a barrier to the evolution of normal labor relations in post-Soviet Russia. This paper acknowledges that the transformation of Russian labor relations since 1991 has been a troubled one and that Soviet-era legacies do have something to do with this. At the same time, it is too easy to simply give up on Russian labor relations altogether. Instead, heeding Hirschmans injunction that widening the area of the possible, of what may happen is sometimes more important than generating predictions or applying statistical reasonsing,4 I have chosen to embark on the sometimes thankless exercise of identifying a silver lining of sorts within a story that is generally a bleak one. Thus, rather than focus on indicators frequently employed to compare the state of labor relations in advanced industrial economies (such as employment or wage levels, union density, or the number of strikes and

3 See, e.g., Linda Cook, Trade Unions, Management, and the State in Contemporary Russia, in Peter Rutland, ed. Business and the State in Contemporary Russia (Boulder: Westview, 2001); Stephen Crowley, Comprehending the Weakness of Russias Unions, Demokratizatsiya 10, 2 (Spring 2002); and Paul Kubicek, Civil Society, Trade Unions and Post-Soviet Democratisation: Evidence from Russia and Ukraine, Europe-Asia Studies 54, 4 (2002): 603-624. 4 Albert O. Hirschman, Crossing Boundaries: Selected Writings (Cambridge, MA: M.I.T Press, 1998), 110.

lockouts), I focus on whether the most relevant actors are themselves converging upon a shared conception of labor relations within a new environment featuring a market economy and relatively greater pluralism. Specifically, I consider: (i) the extent to which unions have shown themselves to be willing and able to defend workers rights and livelihoods; (ii) the extent to which workers have come to rely on unions and formal labor institutions -- rather than informal paternalistic understandings -- in addressing their employment concerns; and (iii) the extent to which government and business acknowledge the function of unions and uphold core labor standards in the process of pursuing their varied economic objectives. Moreover, given that the restructuring of labor relations in post-communist societies has been part of a wholesale political and economic transformation, it is also necessary to assess what has transpired over the past fifteen years within a much broader historical and comparative context than is usually the case in most studies of postcommunist labor. Specifically, it is necessary to adopt: (i) a more fluid and less static view of labor relations in the post-Soviet period, (ii) a more differentiated understanding of Soviet legacies and their effects, and (iii) a wider range of comparative referents extending to historical processes through which independent unionism and labor institutions initially evolved as well as current trends unfolding worldwide in response to global economic pressures. The first section below examines the different dimensions of Soviet labor relations between 1917 and 1991, extending beyond the description of official trade unionism and workers dependence on the enterprise to consider such aspects as the glorification of bluecollar labor, the material security guaranteed in the 1971 Soviet labor code, and active participation in international organizations dealing with labor standards. The next section examines the initial efforts to restructure industrial relations during the Yeltsin years, noting

the fragmentation of organized labor and the difficulties facing workers coping with mounting uncertainties and declining living standards. The following section turns to recent trends apparent in the struggle over the Russian labor code enacted in 2002, pointing to incipient shifts in the behavior of key industrial relations actors. The conclusion offers a tentative appraisal of the trajectory of Russian labor relations within a wider historical and comparative context. This appraisal does not contradict the central observations in pessimistic treatments of Russian labor relations, but it does draw attention to emerging mechanisms that may yet facilitate a more viable and legitimate system of labor relations.

The Transformation of Labor Relations in Post-Soviet Russia The Soviet system of labor relations was not a single static system. It evolved steadily from its inception shortly after the Bolshevik Revolution through the post-Stalin era. Immediately following the 1917 Revolution, the All-Union Central Council of Trade Unions (AUCCTU) was set up as a unified association of sectoral federations corresponding to branches of the economic ministries and encompassing regional and factory trade union committees. Unions were not expected to act as defenders of workers interests since the means of production were now owned by a dictatorship of the proletariat. However, national trade union bodies did initially participate in major policy debates, and factory trade union committees did initially retain a degree of autonomy as watchdogs over the bourgeois specialists retained to administer production. Under Stalin, the latter were purged and replaced en masse by Red Directors, thereby obviating the oversight function of factory trade union committees. Unions were subsequently tansformed into transmission belts for the party-state apparatus, promoting

the latest techniques of industrial production, supporting sharply differentiated incentive structures to boost individual productivity, and assisting in the administration of labor discipline. Under Stalin, official party pronouncements and cultural activities vigorously promoted the glorification of industrial labor, heaping praise on labor heroes who set production records and emphasizing the blue-collar backgrounds of newly rising managers and party officials. At the same time, under the pressure of high plan targets and constant campaigns against wreckers and saboteurs, workers, managers, and local party and union officials frequently responded by forming informal networks and arrangements to ensure their survival. In sum, labor relations under Stalin were marked by a heavy dose of coercion and social control, along with disproportionate rewards for a narrow slice of the workforce and a growing gap between official rhetoric and the informal practices at the workplace.5 In the post-Stalin era, overt coercion and high-pressure campaigns gave way to what some have referred to as a Soviet-style social contract: the regime offered material security and improved living standards in exchange for labor peace, loyalty to the state, and steady efforts to increase productivity. This understanding, first anticipated in a party program introduced under Khrushchev in 1961 and later formalized under Brezhnev in the 1971 labor code, explicitly guaranteed workers full and secure employment, price controls on basic necessities, a host of welfare benefits ranging from education to recreation, and the right of

5 Detailed examinations of Stalinist labor relations may be found in Joseph Berliner, Factory and Manager in the USSR (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1957); Isaac Deutscher, Soviet Trade Unions: Their Place in Soviet Labour Policy (London, New York, Royal Institute of International Affairs, 1950); Donald Filtzer, Soviet Workers and Stalinist Industrialization (Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe, 1986); and Hiroaki Kuromiya, Stalins Industrial Revolution (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988).

unions to contest dismissals.6 These changes were not accompanied by greater union autonomy but they did lead to an expanded role for unions in the reassignment of workers and the distribution of a wide range of social, educational and recreational services. During this period, in an effort to expand its influence among new nations joining the international community, the USSR also became more active in the International Labor Organization (ILO), linking its distinctive approach to employment and production to international labor standards and ratifying dozens of I.L.O Conventions.7 Specifically, the regime touted its record of full employment, an elaborate system of social welfare managed chiefly by the unions, reductions in base wage differentials across job categories, and steady improvements in working conditions and living standards.The anxieties and frustrations of many categories of workers were manifested in the growth of the underground economy, a high rate of unplanned turnover, and later in open protest triggered by Gorbachevs initiatives to stimulate productivity.8 Nevertheless, it is significant that several generations of Soviet citizens came to experience labor through participation in a distinctive set of formal institutions and discourses as well as informal practices and understandings.

6 See Linda Cook, The Soviet Social Contract and Why It Failed (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993), 19-40. 7 The USSR initially joined the ILO in 1934, but withdrew in 1940 with the onset of war before rejoining in 1956. For an overview of Russias engagement with the ILO, see Christopher Osakwe, The Participation of the Soviet Union in Universal International Organizations: A Political and Legal Analysis of Soviet Strategies and Aspirations Inside ILO, UNESCO, and WHO (Leiden: Sijthoff, 1972). 8 On turnover, see Clifford Gaddy, The Price of the Past: Russias Struggle with the Legacy of a Militarized Economy (Washington D.C.: Brookings Institution Press, 1996), 109-13. On labor unrest in the Gorbachev era, see Peter Rutland, Labor Unrest and Movements in 1989 and 1990, Soviet Economy 6, 4 (1990): 345-384; and Walter Connor, The Accidental Proletariat: Workers, Politics, and Crisis in Gorbachev's Russia (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991).

The first steps towards the dismantling of the Soviet model of labor relations and the construction of a new system were undertaken even before the breakup of the USSR. In 1990, the Russian branches of the AUCCTU, recognizing that their traditional roles and privileges were steadily being eroded by economic reform and alternative forms of workers organizations, detached themselves from the Soviet party-state apparatus and reorganized themselves as the Federation of Independent Trade Unions of Russia (FNPR). In the summer of 1991, following his election as president of the Russian republic, Boris Yeltsin set out to push a series of reforms intended by bypass and overtake Gorbachevs restructuring of the Soviet economy. In the process, he issued a series of decrees banning communist party organization in enterprises, recognizing workers right to strike, and establishing a new process through which firms could legally dismiss workers. After the break-up of the USSR, Yeltsin also set out to establish a tripartite system of social partnership along the lines the ILO had recommended for other post-communist economies in Eastern Europe. The Russian Trilateral Commission on the Regulation of Social and Labor Relations (RTK) was established in 1992 as the main forum for resolving industrial disputes and negotiating national, regional, and sectoral agreements covering contracts between firms and workers.9 The initial momentum generated by these initiatives, however, soon dissipated once price liberalization and mass privatization got under way. Concerned over sagging productivity and labor unrest, the government opted to restrict the right to strike in a new 1995 law: legal strikes could be called only after two failed attempts at arbitration, written

9 For authoritative accounts on initial efforts to restructure labor relations, see Walter Connor, Tattered Banners: Labor, Conflict, and Corporatism in Postcommunist Russia (Boulder: Westview, 1996) and J. E. M. Thirkell, K. Petkov, and S. A. Vickerstaff, The Transformation of Labour Relations: Restructuring and Privatization in Eastern Europe and Russia (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998).

notice of the intention to strike, and a one-day warning strike. Furthermore, the decree authorizing dismissals was frequently ignored as many managers, even in privatized firms, were reluctant to initiate mass layoffs whether due to lingering fears of labor shortages or local pressures to maintain employment stability.10 The same fate awaited the Trilateral Commission where the main cleavage proved to be not between labor and business but between unions and business associations that wanted to temper radical reforms (e.g., FNPR on the labor side and the Russian Union of Industrialists and Entrepreneurs on the business side) and more recently founded organizations that backed Yeltsiins reforms (e.g., the whitecollar union Sotsprof on the labor side and the Congress of Russian Business Circles on the business side). Little meaningful bargaining took place between labor and business and whatever general agreements were concluded proved to be either vague or unenforceable. To make matters worse, the Yeltsin administration tended to rely on unilateral decrees and ad hoc deals with larger unions in order to push through labor laws and social policies without calling for regular tripartite consultations. Thus, by the mid-1990s, the RTK could no longer be considered a basis for anything resembling social partnership.11 The extent and character of divisions among competing trade union bodies (see table 1) are worth considering more carefully in relation to the question of labors ability to represent the interests of workers. These divisions initially revolved around an issue directly
10 Michael Fullsack, Official Figures and Unofficial Realities: Employment Rates and their Significance in Russia, Europe-Asia Studies 53, 4 (June 2001); Vladimir Gimpelson and Douglas Lippoldt, The Russian Labour Market: Between Transition and Turmoil (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 2001), 42; and Simon Clarke and Veronika Kabalina, The New Private Sector in the Russian Labour Market, Europe-Asia Studies 52, 1 (2000), esp. 13-15. 11 For detailed discussions of the limits of the new laws and institutions, see Connor, Tattered Banners, chs. 4-5; and Linda Cook, Russias Labor Relations: Consolidation or Disintegration? in Douglas Blum, ed. Russias Future: Consolidation or Disintegration? (Boulder: Westview, 1994), esp. 80.

related to the Soviet inheritance, namely the membership base and assets that FNPR inherited as the successor to the Soviet unions. Newer unions (notably, Sotsprof and the Independent Miners Union) accused FNPR of selling out workers to retain its privileges and sought to cultivate a relationship with Yeltsin in hopes of getting him to curtail FNPRs influence and redistribute FNPRs assets. Moreover, there were incessant conflicts among key leaders vying for influence and status among different labor constituencies. For example, the Confederation of Labour of Russia (KTR) formed in 1995 became truncated when the leadership of the Independent Miners Union withdrew and set up a new federation in which it could wield greater influence, the All-Russian Confederation of Labor (VKT). And, given their initial support for reforms that workers blamed for their declining living standards, the newer unions did not do much better than FNPR in portraying themsleves as defenders of an increasingly impoverished working class. Thus, to the extent that union leaders deserve some of the blame for the weakness of organized labor in post-Soviet Russia, that blame needs to be shared by leaders of both FNPR and the newer unions.12 Be that as it may, the broader problem remained: organized labor was too fragmented and too concerned with broad political and ideological debates to effectively act as defenders of working-class interests.

[Table 1]

12 Rick Simon, Labour and Political Transformation in Russia and Ukraine (Aldershot, UK: Ashgate, 2000), 142.

For their part, workers initially had little conception of the role of unions in the uncharted territory of real labor defense,13 and they viewed unions as virtually irrelevant to their efforts to survive if they could no longer deliver the array of benefits and services they once managed. Declining real wages and mounting wage arrears also left workers at the mercy of managers who continued to promise eventual payment of wages while offering partial payment in kind and making informal arrangements to enable workers to earn supplemental incomes. Under these conditions, workers were neither clear on whom to blame for their difficulties, nor prepared to take the risk of joining in strikes that might cost them their jobs (and, thus, their available benefits and opportunities for informal earning).14 Employers had little reason to change this situation so long as local unions and workers refrained from participating in collective action. In factory towns throughout Russia, key employers, whatever their motivations, provided non-wage substitutes for declining real wages or wage arrears, and continued to keep redundant workers on the payroll, enabling them to have access to certain non-wage supplements as well as covert earning schemes.15 This made the formal laws, statutes, and national organizations governing labor relations

13 Zaslavsky, 218. 14 For an excellent study of workers reluctance to protest in spite of the prevalence of wage arrears, see Debra Javeline, Protest and the Politics of Blame: The Russian Response to Unpaid Wages (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2003). On the importance of informal employment and nonmonetary payments, see Karen Birdsall, Everyday Crime at the Workplace: Covert Earning Schemes in Russias New Commercial Sector, in A. V. Ledeneva and M. Kurkchiyan, eds. Economic Crime in Russia (London: Kluwer Law International, 2000); and Caleb Southworth and Leontina Hormel. Why work Off the Books? Community, Household, and Individual Determinants of Informal Economic Activity in Post-Soviet Russia, in Leo McCann, ed. Russian Transformations: Challenging the Global Narrative. (London: Routledge, 2004) 15 See Birdsall; Clarke and Kabalina, 13-15; Elena Shershneva and Jurgen Feldhoff, The Culture of Labour in the Transformation Process (New York: Peter Lang, 1998), 70-2; and Caleb Southworth, The Development of Post-Soviet Neo-Paternalism in Two Enterprises in Bashkortostan: How familial-type management moves firms and workers away from labor markets, in McCann ed.

10

seem all the more abstract and distant compared to the concrete tangible benefits being made available by enterprise managers to workers and local union officials in an era of shrinking resources. Not surprisingly surveys of workers throughout the 1990s revealed a low level of trust in national unions and a tendency to turn to enterprise directors rather than unions to address their day to day needs or problems at the workplace.16 Thus, during the 1990s, there was little evidence of either labor, business or government coming to terms with their respective roles in the new environment in which they were engaging each other. While unions made some progress in attacking the problem of wage arrears, both old and new unions worried more about their position and influence within the labor movement than about how their activities might concretely benefit their rank-and-file members. Workers, for their part, were not fully accustomed to viewing unions as defenders of workers rights, and saw their material well-being as depending more on remaining in the good graces of their employers. And, both government and business continued to view unions mostly as nuisances or as instruments through which to diffuse labor unrest.

Making Sense of the Struggle Over the Russian Labor Code: A Turning Point? It would be premature to conclude from the above discussion that the building of a post-Soviet system of labor relations was doomed to failure. In a period of radical institutional transformation, unions, like any organization, need time to map the new terrain

16 On the generally low trust in William Mishler and Richard Rose, What are the Origins of Political Trust? Testing Institutional and Cultural Theories in Post-Communist Societies, Comparative Political Studies 34, 1 (February 2002): 30-62, esp. p. 57. The tendency among workers to rely on managers rather than unions is evident in a 1997 survey cited in Kubicek, 613; and a 1995 survey cited in Thirkell et al., 106.

11

and adapt to new political and economic environments environments. Given the hardships they encountered during the 1990s, workers, too, need time to recognize the new role of unions, especially as the opportunities and benefits made available by paternalistic enterprises begin to shrink. And, business and government need to witness a period of sustained union-led labor mobilization before they look upon unions as viable representatives of workers interests rather than as instruments of social control. A look at the politics behind the adoption of the new Russian labor code suggests that this scenario, while perhaps inspired by wishful thinking, is not an altogether implausible one. As part of the 1997 negotiations with the International Monetary Fund, the Russian government had agreed to put in place a comprehensive new set of labor regulations that would replace the old Soviet labor code and give employers more freedom. The Yeltsin administration did not take any major steps toward a full-blown overhaul of the existing labor code, although it did pass a 1999 law authorizing the Russian Trilateral Commission to once again take on the role of manufacturing general agreements. With the ascension of Vladimir Putin, a more concerted effort was finally launched to draft a comprehensive new labor code that would regulate dismissals, working conditions, strike procedures, and union representation, matters that had been previously handled in separate laws that occasionally contradicted the old labor code inherited from the USSR. What is important here is not the content of the new Code but the political struggle that accompanied its eventual adoption.17 Once the original draft produced by the Kremlin was made public in May 2000, the Code immediately provoked widespread criticisms from a growing number of Duma representatives as well as the entire gamut of trade unions. Facing perhaps the strongest

17 A detailed study of the politics behind the new labor code is in Ashwin and Clarke, 60-70.

12

challenge yet to one of his initiatives, Putin quickly realized that the original draft was not going to be adopted without some amendments and compromises. In fact, some view the merger between the Kremlin-backed Unity Party and (Moscow Mayor) Yuri Luzhkovs Fatherland-All Russia Party (OVR) in 2001 as at least partly inspired by the opposition to the government draft of the code.18 Given that FNPR had shifted its political allegiances in the Duma from the Communist Party (KPRF) to Luzhkovs OVR, this maneuver not only served to diffuse the criticism of some OVR deputies but also forced the FNPR to adopt a more conciliatory posture. While Putins maneuvers did ultimately help him get most of what he wanted in the final version of the code, it is noteworthy that the major unions initially lined up on the same side of the debate in opposition to business and government, and that their protests forced the government to consider amendments and significantly delay the adoption of the new code. The alternative unions did not suddenly become cozy allies of FNPR, and indeed many of them characterized FNPRs stance as merely rhetorical posturing. Nevertheless, it is not insignificant that all of the unions attacked the original draft by citing very specific issues, ranging from violations of international labor standards to the protection of union rights, limits on job dismissals, ceilings on working hours, and the necessity of a minimum wage. In stark contrast to the ideologically charged and abstract debates over the direction and pace of economic reform, unions were now focusing on concrete issues of interest to ordinary workers and organizing meetings to communicate with rank-and-file members about the implications of specific proposals. On the business side, too, the Russian Union of

18 Dmitri Glinski-Vassiliev, The Politics of Labor Code Reform in Putins Russia, Policy Memo 197, Program on New Approaches to Russian Security (PONARS), IMEMO (May 2001). <http://www.csis.org/ruseura/onars/policymemos/pm_0197.pdf>

13

Industrialists and Entrepreneurs (RUIE), which had once cooperated with the FNPR in seeking to temper economic reforms, now expressed support for the original labor code proposed by Putin. In effect, the debates over the labor code in 2000-2001 revealed a more pronounced cleavage between labor and business than had been evident in the mid-1990s. At the same time, because the final version of the labor code was closer to the governments original draft than most trade unionists preferred, FNPR was again attacked by its critics as revealing its Soviet-era ancestry by cooperating with the government and sacrificing working-class interests.19 This criticism, because it bears on arguments about the legacies of Soviet trade unionism, deserves to be examined more closely. The most widely discussed alternative to the government draft was supported by FNPRs most ardent critics, the leftist Zaschita Truda and the liberal Sotsprof. Although this radical alternative gained a lot of public attention, most of the distinctive provisions were efforts to retain Soviet-era labor guarantees (including union approval for dismissals) that would not have passed in the Duma or satisfied the conditions stipulated in negotiations with international financial institutions. Thus, the FNPR was facing a situation where it had to maneuver between two starkly different drafts while coping with the loss of political support in the Duma following the merger of Unity and OVR. The FNPR also had to fend off enormous pressure applied by the Kremlin which hinted at support for the election of a new leadership slate at the FNPR Congress scheduled for late 2001 while supporting the creation of an alternative association of unions in pan-national or transnational enterprises that would have cut into FNPRs

19 Interviews with Sergei Khramov, President of Sotsprof, Moscow, June 5, 2002; and Viktor Gamov, Vice-President of Zashchita Truda, Moscow, June 7, 2002.

14

membership.20 In addition, in a tough battle over another law that affected the resources of enterprise unions, Putins Unified Social Tax had narrowly passed the Duma in 2001 a few months ahead of the labor code vote in spite of extensive lobbying against the bill by FNPR.21 Under these conditions, FNPRs decision to adopt a more conciliatory posture, while it may be criticized on the grounds that it undercut the initial opposition to the labor code, needs to be understood as more a tactical response to difficult circumstances rather than an automatic manifestation of Soviet-era union behavior.22 Moreover, FNPRs claim that it got the best deal it could get under the circumstances does not entirely ring hollow. Highly specific conditions must be met before long-term contracts can be terminated or before temporary contracts can be renewed (without becoming long-term ones); the list is long, but the specificity accords workers a measure of protection not possible in the more open-ended government version. The code also reduces the proportion of wages that can be paid in-kind, and requires employers to pay interest on delayed wages. There is also a minimum wage tied to the officially determined subsistence level, something the government initially rejected; whether or not this can be implemented anytime soon, the very idea of a minimum wage tied to subsistence represents a potentially compelling principle around which labor can be mobilized. Similarly, while a legal strike still requires the support of half of the workers at an assembly attended by two-thirds of the workforce at a firm, larger unions with members cutting across different professions are in a

20 For an account of the different pressures faced by FNPR, see Ashwin and Clarke, 68-72. 21 Ashwin and Clarke, 62-4. 22 This view is partially echoed in Ashwin and Clarke; and Paul Christensen The Noncommunist Left, Social Constituencies, and Political Strategies in Russia, Demokratizatsiya 7, 1 (Winter 1999): 135-146.

15

position to engineer the necessary support to coordinate large-scale strikes. And, whereas the original draft allowed management to choose which union to negotiate with, the final version requires employers to negotiate with whichever union (or coalition of unions) represents at least half of the companys personnel. While this does not bode well for smaller unions, especially those organized by profession, it leaves open the possibility of larger unions developing coordinated strategies for collective bargaining across firms and sectors. 23 For their part, the newer unions have also shifted their strategies to increase their visibility and influence in changing circumstances. The two largest alternative federations, VKT and KTR, once hopeful of displacing FNPR, now acknowledge FNPRs position as a real union and selectively cooperate with affiliates of the latter on specific issues.24 In exchange, they have secured FNPRs cooperation in increasing their visibility (for example, by gaining membership in the International Confederation of Free Trade Unions) and securing their positions as leading trade union centers within particular sectors (precious metals for VKT and sea transport for KTR). The more liberal Sotsprof has also shifted from being a leading advocate of market reforms to adopting a militant posture alongside the leftist Zashchita Truda. Significantly, while Sotsprof and Zaschita remain sharply critical FNPRs leadership, they have been less focused on how to strip FNPR of its inherited assets and more concerned about how concrete provisions of the labor code will affect their ability to compete with FNPR-based unions at large companies. The resulting spectrum of union positions (Figure 1) is not an unfamiliar one: more militant unions accuse moderate ones of being co-

23 On the contents of the labor code, see Ashwin and Clarke, 106-130. 24 Interview with Boris Kravtchenko, International Secretary of VKT, Moscow, June 10, 2002.

16

opted, while the latter seek to consolidate their status and resources by being relatively more cooperative and negotiating for incremental gains on behalf of their members.

[FIGURE 1 ABOUT HERE]

From the perspective of workers, the labor code represents a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it formalizes a status quo in which employers already wield considerable power. Although employers must meet certain conditions to dismiss workers and seek workers consent for extended working hours, it is unlikely that there will be enough oversight to seriously constrain most employers in making decisions about personnel and work schedules. The minimum wage clause, since it ultimately depends on a separate national law mandating a specific minimum wage, is not likely to improve the situation of most workers. On the other hand, the new codes long-term effects must be kept in mind against the backdrop of the status quo ante: job rights in the old Soviet code were not being enforced anyway; workers were voluntarily trying to work additional hours to supplement their incomes; and real wages had been steadily declining for a decade, with mounting wage arrears taking many workers down to or below the official poverty line. With this in mind, the most important provisions of the new code may be the standardization of the procedures for collective bargaining alongside tighter restrictions on in-kind payments and wage arrears. These provisions, together with the shrinking of opportunities and benefits available to workers through the workplace, suggest that workers cannot count as much on enterprise paternalism or informal arrangements with employers for maintaining their livelihoods; but, this also means that workers will be more inclined to look to other means to defend their

17

livelihoods, including participation in trade unions. Thus, while the story of the labor code is by no means an euphoric one for most workers, it does increase the chances that workers and unions will converge upon more fruitful and regularized forms of collective action, forcing business and the government to take seriously the rights of workers and the role of unions.

Looking for the Silver Lining I: The Context of Post-Soviet Transition Certainly, in spite of the possibilities anticipated in the previous section, there remain good reasons to be skeptical about the prospects for a viable system of labor relations in postSoviet Russia. Unions still do not much have much clout in politics. Workers still exhibit a low level of confidence in unions as effective defenders of their interests. And, government and business still seem to be able to get their way without bending much to the will of labor. The implications of these tendencies for the future development of labor relations, however, may not be as bleak as suggested once we adjust our expectations in relation to our treatment of the post-Soviet period, our understanding of Soviet legacies, and our use of comparative referents. First, the evolution of post-Soviet labor relations needs to be viewed not in static terms but as a fluid, complicated and contested work-in-progress within a very uncertain changing political and economic environment. Much of the original narrative concerning the bleak prospects for Russian labor was shaped by the disappointment that the energy and momentum of the 1989 and 1991 miners strikes did not translate immediately into an autonomous and effective labor movement. The AFL-CIO, in particular, displayed tremendous impatience in its initial contacts with leaders of Russian unions who, at the time, were understandably concerned about their inherited assets, privileges, and workplace

18

functions.25 From the standpoint of building useful analytic frameworks for capturing the dynamics of the labor movement, this initial narrative proved to be quite limiting, focusing attention on the ineffectiveness of unions and the presumed effects of Soviet-era modes of union organization and behavior. Alternative possibilities were not given the same kind of attention, with the result that the overall opportunity structure26 within which Russian labor was being restructured rarely got the same degree of scrutiny as the evidence of labor quiescence and its presumed connection to Soviet-era labor practices. While historical legacies clearly matter, we need to develop a more expansive and differentiated view of the range of legacies that bear on any given problem, recognizing that some of these may be more adaptable and less problematic than others. As Ekiert and Hanson note, historical legacies cannot be understood to be uniform, monolithic and indefinite; rather, they are bound by time- and space- contexts and enable multiple pathways of institutional change.27 While the legacy of Soviet labor relations may have exerted some negative influences on the early development of independent unions in Russia, there needs to be consideration of the entire range of possible legacies as well as the likelihood of their relevance in any given environment. References to the Soviet legacy in studies of Russian labor relations typically emphasize trade unions role as transmission belts and workers dependence on enterprise paternalism. Few studies bother to weigh the effects of this inheritance against the effects of the uncertain and turbulent environment of post-Soviet

25 See AFL-CIO, Report to the Board of Directors, Free Trade Union Institute, 1991-1992. Washington D. C., cited in Derek Jones, Successor Unions in Transitional Economies: Evidence from St. Petersburg, Industrial and Labor Relations Review 49, 1 (Oct 1995): 39-57, p. 39. 26 See Sidney Tarrow, Power in Movement (Cambridge University Press, 1994). 27 See Grzegorz Ekiert and Stephen Hanson, Time, Space and Institutional Change in Central and Eastern Europe, in Ekiert and Hanson, eds. Capitalism and Democracy in Central and Eastern Europe (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2003).

19

reforms in shaping the behavior of workers and unions. As noted above, FNPRs decision to cooperate over the labor code was as much a result of the intense pressures and difficult circumstances it faced as of a habituated tendency to cooperate with political authorities and enterprise administration. In fact, the leadership of the FNPR in 1991-92 was the only component of the Soviet-wide AUCCTU to support the miners strikes. Much of the post1993 leadership of the FNPR, including the Chairman Mikhail Shmakov, have come out of what was regarded as one of the most independent and syndalist regional unions, the Moscow Federation of Trade Unions (MFP). Shortly after becoming Chairman, Shmakov publicly predicted a sharp rise in unemployment and called for a nation-wide day of strikes and rallies in October 1994 to call for the protection of wages and employment levels in spite of pressures from the Kremlin to call off the strikes in the interest of the newly signed Civic Accord.28 By the same token, other elements of the Soviet inheritance can be reconstructed in ways that facilitate rather than discourage working-class mobilization in Russia. These elements include the relatively high status formally accorded to industrial labor within a workers state, a widespread consensus on the importance of job security and basic living standards as stipulated in the Soviet labor code, and the long history of Soviet participation in the International Labor Organization. For example, the codified guarantee of full employment, while not replicable in a market economy, represents a powerful and familiar ideal that unions can adapt to mobilize rank-and-file members and exert pressure for policies that preserve current employment levels. Similarly, Russian unions sophisticated use of ILO conventions and reporting mechanisms in debates over the new labor code, while not
28 See Connor, Tattered Banners, 82, 87; and Rick Simon, Labour and Political Transformation in Russia and the Ukraine (London: Ashgate, 2000), 109, 134.

20

significantly constraining the state, may be indicative of how pervasive the discourses of labor standards and fundamental rights became as Soviet trade unionists and labor officials served on the ILOs Governing Body. These are all possible historical connections that need to be explored further; but, they do illustrate why we need to invoke the notion of a communist legacy in a more nuanced and differentiated manner when assessing various aspects of postcommunist labor relations. This might, in turn open the door to consideration of some other pathways through which a more vibrant labor movement could yet emerge in the future as political and economic opportunity structures shift.

If we do not prematurely dismiss the possibilities for labor mobilization based on singular understandings of historically determined trajectories of change -- what Juliet Johnson has imaginatively called past dependence29 -- then it becomes more feasible to take into account the potential significance of political and economic structures that combine to constrain both union mobilization as well as workers range of options in post-Soviet Russia.30 The fact is that union formation throughout history has been tricky business, constrained heavily by the state. In the postSoviet context, although the state has been portrayed as weak in relation to such actors as the oligarchs and local governors,31 and although the establishment of semi-democratic institutions

29 Juliet Johnson, Past Dependency or Path Contingency? Institutional Design in Postcommunist Financial Systems, in Ekiert and Hanson. 30 The range of political and economic pressures faced by unions and workers during the post-Soviet transition are elaborated upon in greatest detail in Ashwin and Clarke, as well as in Paul Christensen, Russias Workers in transition: Labor, Management, and the State Under Gorbachev and Yeltsin (Northern Illinois University Press, 1999). 31 Kathryn Stoner-Weiss, The Russian Central State in Crisis, in Zoltan Barany and Robert Moser, eds. Russian Politics: Challenges of Democratization (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001); And Victor Sergeyev, Organized Crime and Social Instability in Russia: The Alternative State, Deviant Bureaucracy, and Social Black Holes, in Victoria Bonnell and George Breslauer, eds. Russia in the New Century: Stability or Disorder? (Boulder: Westview, 2001).

21

has brought greater autonomy for Russian unions, the state has been the pivotal actor in reshaping labor relations from the very beginning. Major trade union federations in Russia may not have been directly functioning as an arm of the state, but they were pressured into cooperating with it. And this was happening at a time when Russian unions were in an environment of tremendous uncertainty and institutional flux as economic and political transformations proceeded in fits and starts. As Connor puts it: Trade unions, especially the FNPR, had barely found their feet in the post-Soviet period; yet the ground was still shifting. Privatization; unemployment; the looming threat of bankruptcies; the inability of the government, except by cranking up inflationary currency emissions, to satisfy demands for cash all limited the space in which unions could maneuver.32 Under Yeltsin, unions were not only faced with the end of automatic dues collection, but threatened with the possibility of losing their income-generating assets, all in a highly fluid environment of uncertainty and flux. In 1994, a year after taking office, FNPR Chairman Mikhail Shmakov warned: Today it is clear that a decisive, open confrontation with the regime would throw our trade unions into the backwaters of public life, would deprive them of all of the constitutional means of defending the intersts of the toilers, and would be a real threat to the existence of the Federation and of FNPR unions as a whole.33 While the assets inherited by unions were used as a source of leverage by the Kremlin, and while a certain segment of the union leadership directly profited from control of these assets, it is also entirely understandable that FNPR would do everything in their power to retain these assets as a crucial resource for shoring up their membership and organizational capacity. Shmakovs objective appears to have been to survive the turmoil of transition and stay in the game as long as possible, using threats of strikes, but also cooperating when direct confrontation was either not feasible or not likely to produce any practical benefits.
32 Connor, Tattered Banners, 157. 33 Quoted in Ashwin and Clarke, p. 46.

22

Under Putin, the pressures extended by the state on labor have been intensified within the framework of managed democracy as the Kremlin has meddled in union elections as well as employed divide-and-conquer strategies to elicit cooperation from the larger unions. at a time when the Kremlin has made no secret of its intention of reigning in civic organizations as part of Putins vertical of power. One need only look at what happened to Yukos to get a sense of the anxieties that unions must have felt when dealing with the Kremlin. And, there is evidence to suggest that Putin himself was directly involved in exerting pressure on FNPR to gain its cooperation in a revision of the labor code. Just prior to the fourth congress of the FNPR in November 2001, Putin initially made noises about backing a challenger to Shmakov during elections for a new chair, but then came around to endorse Shmakov publicly, presumably in exchange for a more cooperative posture on the labor code. As a stick, Putin also supported the formation of a new body known as the Association of Workers of Pan-National and Transnational Enterprises which could, in principle, have been deployed to siphon away large blocs of members from FNPR in key enterprises and sectors.34 Under these kinds of constraints, the range of choices available to union leaders is severely limited, unless they can be assured of steadfast support from the vast majority of union members willing to take serious risks under highly uncertain conditions. Here, too, the leaders of centralized union federations have faced enormous obstacles. Its ability to mobilize workers for militant actions has been severely compromised by the free-fall in living standards for many workers for whom strikes are simply not the optimal course of action. Even where there are grievances, militancy is, from the workers point of view, not the most practical course of action. As Javeline has recently noted, there is often the problem of identifying

34 On the politics preceding the last round of negotiations over the labor code, see Ashwin and Clarke, 71.

23

the main target when expressing a grievance.35 And perhaps even more significantly, the risks associated with militancy are significantly greater among less privileged workers who have been adjusting to the reality of flexible labor markets in which their jobs and benefits are not guaranteed, and in which their real wages have not kept up with the aggregate indicators of national economic growth. Given the centrality of the workplace as a source of informal benefits and covert earning schemes,36 it is entirely understandable that workers will not rush to the barricades in order to promote their formal rights or amend their formal collective agreements. Under these conditions, as Ashwin and Clarke note, although FNPR might have tried other avenues for pursuing a more aggressive approach, [s]imply to have survived has been a considerable achievement, so we have to be careful not to evaluate the achievements of the Russian trade unions against an impossible standard.37 In view of these constraints and pressures, the changes in the behavior of unions and union-worker relationship suggested in the aforementioned story of the Russian labor code may be telling. Rather than fighting over inherited assets and pointlessly posturing over the general direction of economic reform, unions of all stripes are focusing on concrete issues that directly bear on workers livelihoods and are organizing meetings to communicate information to rank-and-file members. In so doing, leaders of all kinds of unions, ranging

35 Debra Javeline, Protest and the Politics of Blame: The Russian Response to Unpaid Wages (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2003). 36 On informal exchange and covert earning practices at Russian enterprises, see Caleb Southworth and Leontina Hormel, Why Work Off the Books? Community, Household, and Individual Determinants of Informal Economic Activity in Post-Soviet Russia. in Leo McCann, ed. Russian Transformations: Challenging the Global Narrative. (London: Routledge, 2004); and Karen Birdsall, Everyday Crime at the Workplace: Covert Earning Schemees in Russias New Commercial Sector, in A. V. Ledeneva and M. Kurkchiyan, eds. Economic Crime in Russia (London: Kluwer Law International, 2000 37 Ashwin and Clarke, 263.

24

from FNPR to Zashchita Truda, have gained enough public attention to be able to get elected to national and local offices. While studies of Russian labor relations regularly note the sharp drop in FNPRs membership since 1993 (when automatic dues check-off ended), we need to bear in mind the artificially high level of membership inherited from Soviet unions. We also need to recognize that the sharpest drop in membership levels occurred between 1993 and 1999 before union membership rebounded to reach the present level.38 Similarly, workers attitudes towards unions, although generally characterized as mistrustful, appear to have become more favorable since the late 1990s. While the level of trust in unions remains low, it is higher than trust in private firms and most government institutions, and the percentage of union members expressing confidence in national unions has risen from just 16% in 1995 to 40% in 2001.39 With businesses reducing the range of benefits they are able to offer most categories of workers, it is also not surprising that workers have begun to turn away from employers and look to unions and courts to address their most pressing concerns.40 Even more telling is the fact that, during the battles of the labor code, government and business both behaved as though they were anxious about unions potential significance in the workplace. Given that business lobbied hard for the original draft of the labor code, and given the political maneuvers the Kremlin had to engage in to get the code passed, it is not a great exaggeration to suggest that government and

38 Ashwin and Clarke, 86. 39 See New Russia Barometer IV (1995) and New Russia Barometer X (2001), both referenced in Richard Rose, A Decade of New Russia Barometer Surveys (Glasgow: Center for the Study of Public Policy, University of Strathclyde, 2002). 40 Surveys conducted in 1995 and 1998 indicate a rise in the percentage of workers who cite unions as the best defenders of their interests (alongside a sharp drop in the percentage citing enterprise directors); see Crowley, Comprehending the Weakness of Russias Unions, 240.

25

business organizations are mindful of the potential influence of some 40 million organized workers especially if they become more responsive to union leaders calls for strikes and protests. These changes are admittedly not eye-opening, but they are worth taking seriously given that they indicate some movement towards a common recognition of the separate functions and interests of labor, business and the state in a market economy.

Looking for the Silver Lining II: Russian Labor in Comparative-Historical Perspective

Finally, it is necessary to assess aspects of post-Soviet labor relations through a wider comparative-historical lens, one that extends beyond postwar systems of labor relations in advanced industrial economies. Historically, it is important to bear in mind that politically effective forms of trade unionism and the construction of viable labor institutions in early capitalism took place over a long period of time and involved numerous setbacks and conflicts. This history also reveals that nascent unions often had to strike bargains to survive the pressure brought to bear on workers by business and the state, and that many categories of workers in England and the United States initially counted on employers rather than unions to protect their jobs and livelihoods.41 These observations suggest that some of the more frequently noted problems in Russian labor relations are neither unique to Russia nor impossible to overcome; indeed, in relation to organized labor, the membership and assets

41 On the emergence of working class identity, trade unionism and labor institutions in the West, see Reinhard Bendix, Work and Authority in Industry (New York: John Wiley, 1956); Mansel Blackford, The Rise of Modern Business in Great Britain, the United States, and Japan (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1998); Melvyn Dubofsky, The State and Labor in Modern America (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1994); David Montgomery, The Fall of the House of Labour (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1987); and, of course, E. P. Thompsons classic, Making of the English Working Class (New York: Vintage, 1963).

26

inherited by FNPR may actually give it a leg up compared to what the first independent unions had to work with, at least once the opportunity structure becomes more permissive. Turning to the present era, it is worth noting that workers and unions in most societies worldwide are facing unprecedented challenges related to commonly felt global economic pressures. The effects of these pressures are evident in a decline in union density and labor militancy, the spread of informal labor markets that undercut enforcement of labor standards, governmental pressures for wage restraint, and the adoption of laws and institutions intended to restructure old social pacts and facilitate flexibilization in employment and production practices.42 While there are countries where union membership is rising -- China comes to mind -- membership without the possibility for autonomous labor mobilization does not really affect the calculus of either state or business. However, in places where there are some minimal restraints on the state -- either in the form of semi-democratic or democratic institutional structures or in the form of a desire to be a member of the international community and join the WTO -- Russias union movement may be well off considering the relatively large number of members unions still retain and given that the density of union membership remains close to 50 percent. There is still a critical mass for mobilizing the workforce and exerting pressure on other industrial relations actors, and when workers can no longer rely on informal paternalistic measures to shore up their survival prospects, the convergence between workers grievances and official union agendas may be sufficient to permit genuine, sustained collective action.

42 On competing views of how global economic pressures impact national systems of industrial relations, see Rudra Sil, Globalization, the State and Industrial Relations: Common Challenges, Divergent Transitions, in T. V. Paul, John Hall, and John Ikenberry, eds. The Nation-State Under Challenge (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2003), 260-288.

27

Finally, within the post-communist context, Russian labor stands out as relatively effective, when compared to labor across much of Eastern Europe. There are tighter links between leading political parties and unions in Poland, but as David Ost has noted, the resulting unionocracy has not resulted in any sustained effort to defend workers rights and interests as employment levels have fallen sharply. Rather, three-quarters of union officials, unlike even the most cooperative union officials in Russia, have explicitly embraced the goal of supporting market reforms.43 Union density in Poland stands at just 15 percent compared to nearly 50 percent in Russia, leaving little leverage for unions to mobilize protest across sectors. Romania has been cited as a case where labor militancy has been generally higher, but as David Kideckel notes, the tactical successes of Romanian labor actually camouflage a number of labors strategic weaknesses and even mangify those weaknesses by fueling popular misperceptions and critiques of labor practices.44 Robertson has made the case that Bulgarias unions, with moderate ties to political parties and greater inter-union competition, has generated greater militancy,45 but again, militancy does not automatically translate into a defense of workers rights or labor-friendly social policy, and, in this regard, Bulgarias 15 percent unemployment rate does not suggest any significant gains won by the unions. The Czech Republic appears to be the one postcommunist country where a single major trade union federation appears to have converted its unity and relatively stable membership base

43 David Ost, The Weakness of Symbolic Strength: Labor and Union Identity in Poland, 19892000, in Crowley and Ost, eds.; and Ost, Are Business Unions Better than Political Unions? Workers and Management in Post-Communist Poland, presented at the conference on Central Europe a Decade Later: New Shopfloor Relations After Communism?, London School of Economics, United Kingdom, December 2, 2000. 44 David Kideckel, Winning the Battle, Losing the War: Contradictions of Romanian Labor in the Postcommunist Transition, in Ost and Crowley, 97-120. 45 Graeme Robertson, The Madding Crowd: Politics and Protest in New Democracies, presented at the 2001 Annual Meeting of the APSA, San Francisco, Aug 30 - Sept 2.

28

into a permanent role in aggregating the interests of different segments of workers and articulating them within relatively stable tripartite institutions. The result has been a relatively stable pattern of bargaining and improved protection for employment levels, labor rights, and social benefits.46 Against the backdrop of these variations in the structure of organized labor and its relative impact on social policy, while there is no reason to become excited about the prospects for a vibrant, effective labor movement, we can certainly see the necessity of differentiating between degrees of labor weakness as a way of identifying potentially distinct mechanisms and pathways for the transformation of labor relations. With a single trade union federation accounting for over four-fifths of all union membership, with material and symbolic resources inherited from the Soviet era, and with a new labor code that does allow large unions to coordinate across firms, regions and sectors, it is conceivable that FNPR might yet get transformed into a vibrant organization capable of spearheading a relatively influential labor movement.

Conclusion Taken together, these varied historical and comparative referents suggest that the prospects for Russian labor relations may not be as bleak as often portrayed. Looking at the historical referent in the form of the Soviet system of labor relations, while the legacy of that system did not leave a strong tradition of independent adversarial unionism, it did leave behind expectations that unions do have something to do with workers welfare, that unions ought to be respected actors in national politics, that international labor standards are

46 Sabina Avdagic, State-Labor Relations in East-Central Europe: Explaining Variations in Union Effectiveness. Paper presented at the Annual Conference of the Society for the Advancement of Socio-Economics, Aix-En-Provence, France (June 26-28, 2003).

29

connected to workers sense of material security, and that the idea of job rights extends to employment stability and social benefits connected to the workplace. In an environment where private enterprise and free labor markets exist alongside formal laws protecting the rights of individuals and civic organizations, it is these marginally positive legacies that are likely to have some staying power, while the negative legacies of absolute cooperation with state and firm are likely to become progressively less significant as unions Looking at the historical experience of union-formation in other places, it is worth noting that nowhere did strong independent and effective unions emerge overnight. Everywhere, there were obstacles to be overcome, bargains to be struck, and strikes to be called, and it took several decades before unions could become effective agents of working class interests. Looking at the present situation facing unions worldwide, while there is no reason to be optimistic about where unions will go, Russian unions are neither exceptionally weak owing to their communist legacy, nor exceptionally quiescent in view of the uncertainties and anxieties accompanying the post-Soviet economic transition. In fact, they have increased their efforts to recruit young people, promote women among the ranks of the leadership, expand their coverage to new firms and sectors, and to join the International Confederation of Free Trade Unions. And, looking at the postcommunist world, we see not only diversity in terms of the degree of union competition or fragmentation and the levels of union density and union influence, but we also see that Russias trade union movement may actually better position than most in terms of its total membership and its inherited organizational and symbolic resources. Having said that, however, it is not to overstate the prospects for a viable system of labor relations in post-Soviet. None of the above is meant to suggest that Russias unions are

30

going to be come strong, influential actors in the present political and economic environment. However, it is important to pay attention to the extent and sources of labor weakness so that possible pathways for labor mobilization can at least be given serious consideration. It is in this spirit that I have engaged in this hopeful exercise of looking for the silver lining. Even as I am prepared to acknowledge the difficulties and limitations inherent in the status quo, it is important to keep searching for mechanisms that are currently producing only marginal variations but may yet lead to wider differences and new trajectories over longer periods of time. To this end, I have chosen not to focus on substantive indicators of labor weakness, which have been enumerated for quite some time now, but to emphasize the shifting behaviors of key industrial relations actors, particularly unions and workers, within their changing political and economic environments.. I have also suggested that a meaningful appraisal of Russian labor relations requires a more differentiated view of when and how Soviet-era legacies matter, and a wider comparative-historical framework for identifying the significance of different aspects of Russian labor relations.

31

Table 1: LABOR FEDERATIONS ACTIVE ACROSS POST-SOVIET RUSSIA organization name FNPR (Federation of Independent Trade Unions of Russia) VKT (All-Russian Confederation of Labor) KTR (Confederation of Labor of Russia) Sotsprof (Social Trade Unions) Zashchita Truda (Defense of Labor)* claimed membership 37,000,000 3,000,000 1,200,000 500,000 15,000

* Note: Zashchita Truda is not formally an All-Russian federation as it has affiliated trade union bodies in only 43 regions, two short of the 45 required to be a national center.

Figure 1: VARIETY OF TRADE UNION STRATEGIES IN RUSSIA

MORE COOPTED

AUTONOMOUS-COOPERATIVE

MORE ADVERSARIAL

AUCCTU

FNPR

VKT

KTR

Sotsprof

Zashchita Truda

32