"Dry Gulch Pete" <
paci...@btopenworld.com> schreef in bericht
news:4fae3159-16ba-4c8d...@d15g2000yqg.googlegroups.com...
and during the first Falklands War there was a 'Pan-American
agreement' with the USA where the Americans promised to protect
Argentina!
President Reagan said, IIRC, "Why anyone is interested in that rock in
the south Atlantic...!".
--
DGP
Naomi Klein should be required reading for everyone. The neoliberal
ruling class, (Blair, Brown, Cameron, Milibrand, etc.) have been using
armed force to overthrow rival economic models for decades now.
Margaret Thatcher used the jingoism created over the Falklands
war to squash the unions.
Ideologially, this might explain it:
http://www.newstatesman.com/south-america/2007/08/argentina-workers-movement
"Occupy, resist, produce"
Naomi Klein and Avi Lewis
Published 30 August 2007
Naomi Klein and Avi Lewis report on how Argentina's worker-run factories have nurtured a powerful
social movement, while seamstress Matilda Adorno explains how a dispute over pay became a political
struggle
On 19 March 2003, we were on the roof of the Zanón ceramic tile factory, filming an interview with
Cepillo. He was showing us how the workers fended off eviction by armed police, defending their
democratic workplace with slingshots and the little ceramic balls normally used to pound the
Patagonian clay into raw material for tiles. His aim was impressive. It was the day the bombs
started falling on Baghdad.
As journalists, we had to ask ourselves what we were doing there. What possible relevance could
there be in this one factory at the southernmost tip of South America, with its band of radical
workers and its David and Goliath narrative, when bunker-busting apocalypse was descending on Iraq?
But we, like so many others, had been drawn to Argentina to witness first-hand an explosion of
activism in the wake of its 2001 crisis - a host of dynamic new social movements that were not only
advancing a bitter critique of the economic model that had destroyed their country, but were busily
building local alternatives in the rubble.
There were many popular responses to the crisis, from neighbourhood assemblies and barter clubs to
resurgent left-wing parties and mass movements of the unemployed, but we spent most of our year in
Argentina with workers in "recovered companies". Almost entirely under the media radar, workers in
Argentina have been responding to rampant unemployment and capital flight by taking over businesses
that have gone bankrupt and reopening them under democratic worker management. It is an old idea
reclaimed and retrofitted for a brutal new time. The principles are so simple, so elementally fair,
that they seem more self-evident than radical when articulated by one of the workers: "We formed the
co-operative with the criteria of equal wages and making basic decisions by assembly; we are against
the separation of manual and intellectual work; we want a rotation of positions and, above all, the
ability to recall our elected leaders."
The movement of recovered companies is not epic in scale - some 170 companies, around 10,000 workers
in Argentina. But six years on, and unlike some of the country's other new movements, it has
survived and continues to build quiet strength in the midst of the country's deeply unequal
"recovery". Its tenacity is a function of its pragmatism: this is a movement that is based on
action, not talk. And its defining action, reawakening the means of production under worker control,
while loaded with potent symbolism, is anything but symbolic. It is feeding families, rebuilding
shattered pride, and opening a window of powerful possibility.
Like a number of other emerging social movements around the world, the workers in the recovered
companies are rewriting the script for how change is supposed to happen. Rather than following
anyone's ten-point plan for revolution, the workers are darting ahead of the theory - at least,
straight to the part where they get their jobs back. In Argentina, the theorists are chasing after
the factory workers, trying to analyse what is already in noisy production.
These struggles have had a tremendous impact on the imaginations of activists around the world. At
this point, there are many more starry-eyed grad papers on the phenomenon than there are recovered
companies. But there is also a renewed interest in democratic workplaces from Durban to Melbourne to
New Orleans.
That said, the movement in Argentina is as much a product of the globalisation of alternatives as it
is one of its most con tagious stories. Argentinian workers borrowed the slogan "Occupy, Resist,
Produce" from Latin America's largest social movement, Brazil's Movimiento Sin Terra, in which more
than a million people have reclaimed unused land and put it back into community production. One
worker told us that what the movement in Argentina is doing is "MST for the cities". In South
Africa, we saw a protester's T-shirt with an even more succinct summary of this new impatience:
"Stop Asking, Start Taking".
The movement in Argentina is frustrating to some on the left who feel it is not clearly
anti-capitalist, those who chafe at how comfortably it exists within the market economy and see
worker management as merely a new form of auto-exploitation. Others see co-operativism, the legal
form chosen by the vast majority of the recovered companies, as a capitulation in itself - insisting
that only full national isation by the state can bring worker democracy into a broader socialist
project.
Workers in the movement are generally suspicious of being co-opted to anyone's political agenda, but
at the same time cannot afford to turn down any support. More interesting by far is to see how
workers in this movement are politicised by the struggle, which begins with the most basic
imperative: Workers want to work, to feed their families. Some of the most powerful new
working-class leaders in Argentina today discovered solidarity on a path that started from that
essentially apolitical point. Whether you think the movement's lack of a leading ideology is a
tragic weakness or a refreshing strength, the recovered companies challenge capitalism's most
cherished ideal: the sanctity of private property.
The legal and political case for worker control in Argentina does not only rest on the unpaid wages,
evaporated benefits and emptied-out pension funds. The workers make a sophisticated case for their
moral right to property - in this case, the machines and physical pre mises - based not just on what
they are owed personally, but what society is owed. The recovered companies propose themselves as an
explicit remedy to all the corporate welfare, corruption and other forms of public subsidy the
owners enjoyed in the process of bankrupting their firms and moving their wealth to safety,
abandoning whole communities to economic exclusion.
This argument is, of course, available for immediate use in the United States and Europe. But this
story goes much deeper than corporate welfare, and that's where the Argentinian experience will
really resonate with us. It has become axiomatic on the left to say that Argentina's crash was a
direct result of the IMF orthodoxy imposed on the country with such enthusiasm in the neoliberal
1990s. In their book Sin Patrón: Stories from Argentina's Worker-Run Factories, to which this essay
forms the introduction, the Lavaca Collective makes clear that in Argentina, just as in the US
occupation of Iraq, those bromides about private sector efficiency were nothing more than a cover
story for an explosion of frontier-style plunder - looting on a massive scale by a small group of
elites. Privatisation, deregulation, labour flexibility: these were the tools to facilitate a
massive transfer of public wealth to private hands, not to mention private debts to the public
purse. Like Enron traders, the businessmen who haunt the pages of this book learned the first lesson
of capitalism and stopped there: Greed is good, and more greed is better. As one Argentinian worker
says: "There are guys that wake up in the morning thinking about how to screw people, and others who
think: how do we rebuild this Argentina that they have torn apart?"
In the answer to that question, you can read a powerful story of transformation. Capitalism produces
and distributes not just goods and services, but identities. When the capital and its carpetbaggers
had flown from Argentina, what was left was not only companies that had been emptied, but a whole
hollowed-out country filled with people whose identities - as workers - had been stripped away as
well. As one of the organisers in the movement wrote to us: "It is a huge amount of work to recover
a company. But the real work is to recover a worker and that is the task that we have just begun."
On 17 April 2003, we were on Avenida Jujuy in Buenos Aires, standing with the Brukman workers and a
huge crowd of their supporters in front of a fence, behind which was a small army of police guarding
the Brukman factory. After a brutal eviction, the workers were determined to get back to work at
their sewing machines.
In Washington, DC, that day, USAID announced that it had chosen Bechtel Corporation as the prime
contractor for the reconstruction of Iraq's architecture. The heist was about to begin in earnest,
both in the United States and in Iraq. Deliberately induced crisis was providing the cover for the
transfer of billions of tax dollars to a handful of politically connected corporations.
In Argentina, they'd already seen this movie - the wholesale plunder of public wealth, the explosion
of unemployment, the shredding of the social fabric, the staggering human consequences. And 52
seamstresses were in the street, backed by thousands of others, trying to take back what was already
theirs. It was definitely the place to be.
In 2004, Naomi Klein and Avi Lewis released "The Take", a film about worker-run factories in
Argentina.This essay is an edited extract from their introduction to "Sin Patrón: Stories from
Argentina's Worker-Run Factories", written by the Lavaca Collective (Haymarket Books, $16)
Naomi Klein will be discussing The Shock Doctrine at the Queen Elizabeth Hall on Thursday 13
September.