Diario las Américas Newspaper, May 26, 1957, Page 24

OT LN Gt ee a HOW LABOR IS. LEARNING Honduran Workers Help Themselves to a Better Life HALF A CENTURY FROM NOW, Hondurans may look back on the 1950's as a turning point in their history, the years in which the Honduran worker came into his own. From an illiterate no- nentity, living in dirt and poverty, he is beginning to emerge as if from a cocoon, to take his place in the community as a human be- fing with a social conscience, with rights and responsibilities, poten- tially an important consumer as well as an indispensable producer. I say “beginning” advisedly, for the full impact will not be felt for a long time to come, even though the structure of Honduran society is .being shaken by the changes unfolding in, that small Central American country. Only the future ean reveal whether, with its quick- ened tempo, this evolution will con- tinue as peaceful change. Not that the development is un-\ matural or even unexpected; in- evitably it accompanies the tidal wave of industrialization that is sweeping through much of Latin America. But it is dramatie when viewed historically. As recently as three years ago Honduras was the only country in the Western Hemisphere without labor legislation, except for an ac- cident-prevention law passed in 1952. Labor unions were illegal. Anyone making an issue’over the workers’ lot was automatically sus- pect and Jabeled a Communist. The bulk of Honduran workers, ' some twenty-seven thousand, were hired by two foreign-owned companies in the banana business, producing. acrop that accounted for 61 per cent of the value of the nation’s exports in 1953. Standard Fruit Company employed twelve thou- sand workers to turn out coconuts, citrus fruits, soap, and lard, in ad- dition to bananas, in and near La Ceiba, capital of Atlantida Depart- ment. Also on the north coast, the country’s other big banana produc- er, the Tela Railroad Company — a subsidiary of the United Fruit Company — operated in La Lima and around San Pedro Sula, capit- al of Cortés Department. Ever since U. S. firms acquired their first holdings over fifty years ago, the prosperity of local indus- try and local merchants had been tied to bananas. Bananas had given Honduras additional railroad and port facilities, built. by the com- panies. Whatever the Honduran workers knew about cultivation they had learned from the compan- fes, but they had had no guaran- tees and only whatever protec- tion a benevolent management car- ed to extend. Over the years, work- er resentment smoldered, erutping into fitful strikes during the twen- ties. The companies, for their part, had provided certain benefits. They had built schools, for example to insure an education for the chil- dren of their employees. But their. attitude toward the workers seem- ed to be motivated by an old-fash- foned paternalism. Often it appear- _ed that to the company “employe- 9s” meant only the white-collar workers, Honduran or foreign, and not the humble peons. The ha- eiendas on which they were super- vised by foremen who considered them’ little more than tools might be as far as fifty miles from the watchful eyes of the personnel of- fice at company headquarters. The pressure built up. In. May 1954 a general strike, which paral- yzed production on the north-coast banana plantations, quickly spread to the rest of the country. With the backing of the Inter-American Regional Organization of Workers (ORIT, from its name in Spanish) and the AFL and the CIO in the United States, Honduran workers quickly organized. The Government announced that it would not inter- CARLOS GUILLEN, as told to Kathleen Walker strong banana workers’ union on the north coast, these included or- ganized chauffeurs, construction workers, airline employees, and aviation mechanics in Tegucigalpa. Meanwhile, the OAS Inter Ame- rican Economie and Social Council was mapping out a program of workers’ education. This was bas- ed on the realization that while labor in more industrialized coun- fries had reached the advanced leaders, a crying stage of training union in other nations there w Rude hut shelters tamily of four and seven bachelors, with only loose poles as partition. vene unless the strike was used for subversive political purposes. The infant unions weeded out pro- Communist elements, and the two- month strike ended without vio- lence when collective contracts fix- ing wage scales and regulating working hours were signed with the companies. The strike had a catalytic effect. In the ensuing agreements the unions won recognition .On Dec- ember 24 a separate Labor Minis- try was set up, and the following year the Government adopted a Charter of Social Guarantees. By July 1956 the number of unions had swelled to twenty. Besides the need to teach the workers such elementary skills as reading and writing and the basic facts about nutrition, sanitation, and housing, so that they could achieve a decent standard of living and — just as important — a sense of civie re- sponsibility. But in some cases, management and labor had yet to be convinced that at this point it was desirable for workers to take the initiative in helping themselves along. In 1954 the OAS sent out notice to the member governments that it was ready to survey workers’ edu- cation in the countries desiring it. Honduras was one of six nations Only. a few banana workers enjoy housing like this; even some of these have become overcrowded. “BAG. TO HEMISPHERE One of night schools set up by Standard Fruit Company union in homes of workers to combat illiteracy. ENAAAAAADLAAA ALIA IAI AI IE Reproducido por cortesia de “Amériexs”, revista de la Union Panamericana que se edita en inglés, espafiol y portugués, FAA AAAA AAA AAAI AI IAA SAS IB requesting the service. Once OAS help had been enlisted, I was sent to Central America to direct our end ef the job. At the time the Labor Ministry had already begun to circulate books, give talks on labor legisla- ; tion, and even distribute medicines in certain communities, The unions, alarmed at the number of workers because they could not write their names, had opened twenty night schools — though in- adequately staffed — in the homes of the workers. The Standard Fruit Company had started courses in human relations to enlighten their foremen on their social re- sponsibilities as administrators. Soon after my arrival in Tegu- cigalpa, the Labor Minister said to me: “Look, I must. confess that we have no workers’ education to survey. What we need you for is to help organize a program from scratch so that we can administer workers’ education as part of the regular activites of the Labor Min- istry.’ He arranged a preliminary briefing meeting with officials from the Ministry. I learned from them that although Honduras now | had a Charter of Soeial Guarantees, the living conditions of the work- ers badly needed attention. Two Ministry officials and I flew to the north coast to examine the situa- tion firsthand. At Standard Fruit headquarters, the general manager, Mr. Bertie R. Hogge, made us welcome and offered transportation to the outly- ing plantations. Professor Abraham Mejia, the school inspector, repre- Senting the company, and two unions representatives — Medardo Agurcia, the secretary general, and Efrain Irias, secretary of grievances —accompanied us. In five-days we eovered some sixty miles, visiting most of the piantations and ob- serving living and workiag condi- tions. The workers were ‘ eager to register their complaints, which in many cases seemed quite justi- fied. In the absence of government inspections overcrowding was us- ual. In one two-room house we found seven,single men living in one room and a family of 4 living in the other. Dependents in most families included not only the wife and children but in-laws on both \sides .Part of the housing shortage ‘was due to the labor surplus; drawn by employment opportuni- ties on the banana plantations, peo-_ ple had migrated to the north coast from other parts of the country and from neighboring El Salvador. In some places, without a sewage system, polluted water ran un- checked in open ditches. We saw General Secretary of Standard Fruit union, organized after 1954 strike, chats with banana worker . (holding machete). Pio Randales, highly respected community leader at Finca Biri- chiche, can neither read nor write, children playing in the mud with pigs and chickens. Gambling, drunkenness, and prostitution were not uncommon. Ironically, we discovered that poverty kept many workers from taking advantage of the school ser- vices furnished by the companies, Both teachers and parents explain- ed that often there was not enough money at home to pay for clothes and books for the children, And there was no transportation; some children lived about four miles from school and were go- ing without lunch to avoid the long walk home at noon. Back in Tegucigalpa, we called together representatives of labor and managemente (both from the north coast and from Tegucigalpa;, the Chamber of Commerce, and the binational and international spe- cialized agencies working in health, education, and agricult- ure, These included SCISP (In- ter American Cooperative Public Health Service); SCIDE (Inter American Cooperative Education Service); STICA (Inter American Cooperative Agricultural Service); the UN Food and Agriculture Or- ganization; and the United Nations International Children’s Emergen- cy. Fund. We decided that in launching a nationwide workers’ education program, the best ap- proach would be to tackle the pro SUNDAY, MAY 26, 1957 NN Ne