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Press

BY STIG JUTTERSTRÖM

Dan Byung-ho is sitting in front of his desk at the KCTU headquarters in Seoul. He wears a red-checked shirt, a blue jacket and light cotton trousers. His has lines in his forehead, his eyes are wise and his smile is warm.

Question: When did you for the first time become a trade union activist?

Answer: In 1987. I was working for Dong-ah Construction Company, at a plant which made equipment for the construction industry. Working conditions were absolutely dreadful. Working hours were very long and wages so low that I decided to take the initiative to increase the workers' rights and improve their working conditions. Since there wasn't a trade union, I decided to start one.

Q: How did your colleagues among the metalworkers react to that?

A: It wasn't easy, because it hasn't been freely permitted to start trade unions. The company had 770 employees, and 30 of us workers secretly formed our trade union. After a month we went public and told the others that we were going to start a union. 300 joined, which was a pretty good result.

Q: And how did management react when the workers joined the union? 

A: Their reaction was severe. Our employer threatened the workers and tried to persuade them not to join the union. He refused to recognise the union's right to represent the workers. But after 50 days we went on strike for our demand to get the union recognised, for the right to negotiate and for higher wages.

Q: This must have been an illegal strike. What happened then?

A: Every worker joined the strike, which lasted a week. Our employer gave up and recognised the right of the union to represent the workers, the union's negotiating rights, and our rights for higher wages. It was a total victory.

Q: You were released from prison in August last year. When were you first arrested?

A: In April 1989. During the spring of 1988, I had organised a strike for higher wages, and I started to understand that the opportunity to fight for trade union rights in one single company was fairly limited. We had to cooperate with other unions. So I took the initiative of first setting up the Seoul Regional Council of Trade Unions, and towards the end of the year, the National Council of Trade Union Representatives, which was a committee with representatives of trade unions from all over the country. The government felt threatened when they understood that the workers were beginning to cooperate nationally, and my name got on the wanted list. I managed to remain in hiding for four months by travelling all over the country with the help of my friends. But one evening, after a meeting with trade union activists, the security police turned up and arrested me straight after the meeting. I was condemned to 18 months in jail, but was freed after five months.

Q: This was just the beginning. How many times have you been arrested?

A: Four times, for a total of four years and six months. I have also been on the wanted list four times, for about four to five years in all.

Q: How were you treated? Was it a very hard time?

A: I wasn't repressed and it wasn't a particularly difficult time. It was useful time. The hardest thing was the loneliness and being away from my family, my wife and two children. They were only eight and four years old the first time I was jailed. I remained active all the while in prison, doing physical exercises for an hour a day, writing letters, studying, reading books about the trade union movement and planning for the future. I was able to use that time in prison by making it useful.

Q: So you could read books. Were there any restrictions on your reading matter?

A: (Dan Byung-ho smiled and walked over to the bookshelf to collect a book.) At first it was forbidden to read certain newspapers and books. You were only allowed to read harmless things. But I was able to read many other things, as my friends stuck pages from forbidden works inside the covers of books the jailers approved of. They only looked at the covers and checked the author's name.

Q: Were there any common features behind all the arrests?

A: Yes, there were. Each time I have tried to launch a new organisation to widen and strengthen trade union collaboration, I was arrested. When I was taken into custody in 1989, I had started a country-wide cooperation committee. I was arrested in February 1991 for trying to initiate the National Workers' Association. I was put on the wanted list in June 1993 for two years for starting the Korean Council of Trade Union Representatives, which was a predecessor of the present KCTU. While I was hiding from the security police, I worked on initiating the present KCTU. When that was done in June 1995, I was immediately put in prison. I was let out in 1996 and began working to get three metalworkers' unions -- the Hyundai Workers' Unions, the Korean Federation of Metalworkers' Unions, and the Korean Automobile Workers' Federation -- to join together in the present Korean Metal Workers' Federation (KMWF). It worked, but I was arrested again. I was actually elected president of the newly-formed metalworkers' union in February 1998 while I was still in jail. I was taken into custody again in October 1998 and released in August 1999. In September that year I was elected president of the KCTU.

Q: Do you think that October 1998 was the last time you were jailed? 

A: It is not at all impossible that I will be detained again. The government of South Korea has many options if it wants to limit the trade union movement's activities. I still have two months left of my latest sentence which I haven't served, which in turn meant I was not allowed to vote in the parliamentary elections on April 13 this year. And it means that the government can have me put in custody if they feel threatened by what I and the KCTU are doing. 

Q: There are two competing national trade union centres in South Korea, the Korean Confederation of Trade Unions and the Federation of Korean Trade Unions. What are the industrial and political differences between them?

A: There are many differences, but I will mention the principal ones. 
First of all, they were started in completely different ways. The FKTU was started over 50 years ago by the country's president at the time, in order to control the labour movement. The KCTU emerged as a result of the great workers' struggle in 1987; this was an explosive protest against the government's attempt to control the workers.

Secondly, they operate very differently. The KCTU is based on the idea that all workers should have the right to participate in the work of their unions at the company level. Decisions are based on debates from below, which every member has the right to take part in. We work democratically, whilst the FKTU operates bureaucratically.

Thirdly, we confront the employers and the government very differently. We try to meet the workers' demands through trade union struggle and strikes. The FKTU is more inclined to negotiate and compromise with the employers and the government.

Fourthly, there are political differences. In South Korea there are no conservative parties on the one hand, and progressive parties on the other, as in other countries. There are virtually only conservative politicians. We are backing attempts to build a progressive, independent labour party which will represent the interests of the workers. But the FKTU does not agree with that. 

Q: Do you think you will manage to get one national trade union centre within a reasonable time?

A: I cannot answer that question. It is important to have just the one confederation in a country, but it is impossible to say when South Korea will have one.


Q: Are there any chances of really establishing a South Korean labour party based on the trade union movement, as in many European countries?

A: The KCTU's attempts at starting a labour party began in 1997 with its decision to form an independent workers' party. The first president of the KCTU, Kwon Young-kil, put his name forward in the 1997 presidential elections, and in this year's parliamentary elections 10 of the labour party's candidates were from the KCTU. But we are just in the initial phase of a process which will take some time.

Q: Your critics say the KCTU is too militant. What have you to say about that?

A: Yes, I have heard it said that we are militant; this includes some foreigners who say so. We use that word in Korea too, but you have to understand the background. The massive 1987 strike was aimed at the repression of workers by the military dictatorship and the employers. They refused to recognise a democratic, independent trade union movement. The employers did all they could to keep the workers down. It was necessary to fight and to lead a militant struggle to defend democracy and workers' rights at the workplace. Don't forget that the workers are still suffering under appalling working conditions, the longest working hours and lowest wages. Without a struggle they cannot obtain what they are demanding. Under such circumstances you have to be militant. Only last year, after a history of many battles, was the KCTU given legal status.

Q: President Kim Dae-jung has a positive image with many Westerners. What do you think about his policies?

A: Korean workers don't consider him to be a positive figure. Although he is called the "human rights president" in some Western countries, he certainly isn't. The number of workers jailed in his first three years in office has been greater than that of the previous president's total four-year term. He is an oppressor, not a human rights president.

And his economic policies have brought a great deal of suffering to the workers. He accepted the programme of the International Monetary Fund without taking any account of it. It led to mass sackings and made the rich richer and the poor poorer. 80 per cent of the population is working for the remaining 20 per cent. Nor has he reformed the chaebols, the South Korean family conglomerates. The five largest have become even wealthier since "the IMF crisis." 

Q: What is your opinion on Kim Dae-jung's so-called "sunshine" policy, the purpose of which is to normalise the relations between the two Koreas?

A: The Kim Dae-jung government does not consider North Korea as an antagonistic counterpart of South Korea, which is positive. But in reality, the "sunshine" policy pursues economic advantages and interests. It is not representing the unification of people living in North and South Korea, but the economic interests of the corporations. The "sunshine" policy allows South Korean companies to do business in North Korea.

Q: When will there be unification between the two Koreas?

A: I'm not sure. Unification could become a reality later on, but it has been 50 years since the division, and this situation hinders national development. The longer this situation lasts, the more difficult unification will be. The possibilities for Korean unification depend on extending the exchange of contacts between the people in the two countries, and here the role of the workers is very important. The soccer games in 1999 between the two teams from trade unions in North Korea and South Korea represent one example of the role the workers can play.

Q: How important is the "Reinstate the Sammi Speciality Steel Workers' Campaign"?

A: When the Pohang Steel Corporation took over Sammi Speciality Steel Industry, they also took over the Sammi customers and continued doing business with them. So they also have an obligation to take over all the workers. It was illegal to sack the 580 workers, which all the courts have so far agreed with. But Pohang refuses to accept the courts' verdicts. It is very important for the Sammi workers to be reinstated. An increasing number of foreign companies are investing in South Korea. It is absolutely vital for the KCTU to help the Sammi workers win their case in order to stop other employers from doing the same thing. The support they have received from trade unions in other countries has been invaluable.

Note: METAL WORLD also asked for an interview with Park In-sang, former president of the Federation of Korean Trade Unions (FKTU) and the Federation of Korean Metalworkers' Trade Unions (FKMTU), but at that time he was busy with his campaign to run for Parliament.

Dan Byung-ho is a strong profile in the young Korean trade union movement. He is talking about his struggle against the Korean employers, government and police and about his time in prison.

Interview with Dan Byung-ho

Did you know that a metalworker in Canada, Finland, Germany or the USA has to work 3-4 minutes to be able to buy 1 kilo of sugar? Whereas he or she has to work ten times as long to buy 1 kilo of sugar in Bulgaria, Colombia or India. 
Source: The IMF publication "The Purchasing Power of Working Time - An International Comparison." Sector: Machinery and Equipment.

Do you know

By STIG JUTTERSTRÖM

Ten years ago, Victor Semindeikin was working in what was described as paradise. Today, this workplace is one of the most icy-cold and dirty places on earth.

Dvigatel, in the Estonian capital, Tallinn, manufactured submarines, electric stations and other war equipment for the Soviet national defence. The factory was warm and snug, there were flower pots along the walls, and welders and other skilled workers with heavy jobs were given an extra half a litre of milk every day. At the time of my visit at the end of January, the temperature in the plant was zero degrees, and Victor Semindeikin had a small home-made electric heater on the floor which gave off very little warmth. He was wearing a yellow breathing mask over his mouth and at least six layers of clothing on the hefty upper half of his body - two shirts, two sweaters, a coat and a jacket. Possibly he was wearing more underclothes which were not visible under the shirts.

There were no longer any flowers along the walls, but one worker had a big photo of the famous Russian author Alexander Pushkin in front of him. Electricity is too expensive to enable the owner of the factory to heat the huge hall which is 30 meters high, and it is no longer possible even to think about providing extra milk for the workers. However, a 200-gram bar of soap is still distributed to them every month.

THE INDUSTRY WAS PRIVATISED

Ten years ago, this state-owned company employed 6,000 workers, but because Estonia's entire industry output depended on orders from the Soviet Union, as well as on their supply of energy and raw materials, when the Russian economy collapsed in 1991, so did the Estonian metal industry. What was left of the industry was privatised, and in 1994, three years after Estonian independence was declared, Dvigatel itself was privatised and divided into ten smaller companies. Today, the company bearing the same name has only 300 employees.

Victor Semindeikin earns 2,500 Estonian kroon per month ($180). Of this total, he pays 500 kroon tax and 1,200 kroon rent, and one per cent of his wage goes to pay the trade union fee. "The workers cannot afford to live and eat as they did in the past," says Meer Jakobson, the representative of the metalworkers' local trade union, who is sitting behind a large desk with two telephones on it - one red and one green. Sometimes the workers do not get paid for several months. He pointed out press clippings on the wall and copies of letters that he has had to send to management every week to complain about laws or contracts being broken.

CONTROLLED BY THE COMMUNIST PARTY

Since the changeover, the role of the trade unions has changed drastically. During the Soviet regime, almost everyone was a member of the union, which was wealthy, communist-controlled and had a well-defined function. The union played a positive role: it distributed new cars and flats to its members and helped them with economic and social problems. All the workers received their wages, even those who, during working hours, went to the cinema or to the shops when there were still goods on the shelves. Critics say that the unions were the right hand of the management, while others feel that they acted rather like a personnel department. 

Today, 180 of the 300 workers employed at Dvigatel are members of the local trade union, although Meer Jakobson explained that they cannot be offered the same advantages as they had in the past. In addition, the unions have a bad reputation in Estonia as they are associated with communism and dictatorship. "During the Soviet regime, this was my best friend," says Meer Jakobson. With a smile, he took a black Lenin statue from the top of the safe and stroked its head. "Everything went like clockwork; the world was small and people did not need to think for themselves, whereas now the world has become much bigger and everything is more insecure."

When I asked whether anything had improved during the last ten years, Jakobson heaved a deep sigh and was silent for a long time. "No, not in the area of work, which is the most important thing for the people." He heaved another deep sigh when I asked about the future. "As a factory, we have no future, but looking at Estonia as a whole, I believe that it will get better."

WARNINGS FROM THE EMPLOYERS 

Only one employee at Dvigatel is Estonian. The others are drawn from 18 different nationalities, most of them of Russian origin. Meer Jakobson's mother is Latvian and his father Russian, and he himself is Russian-speaking. Previously, Dvigatel's local union had been an affiliate of the Russian-speaking metalworkers' union, EMTAL, with 3,300 members, but in 1998, the local union joined the Estonian-speaking union, EMTA, which was founded in 1991 and has 1,800 members.

During the 90s, both metalworkers' unions shrank in size. Before 1991, EMTAL was a huge union with 85,000 members, but when the Russian market disappeared, a large part of the Estonian metal industry went too. In addition, the old unions were linked with the Communist Party. Some of the new private employers have also warned their employees against being involved with the trade union movement. As a result, only 15 per cent of employees in Estonia are trade union organised. Among the Russian-speaking minority - a little less than one-third of the 1.4 million inhabitants - the rate of membership is 30 per cent, while it is about 10 per cent among the Estonian workers. "The difference between the two unions is very great," says Maaja Tint, a member of the board of EMTA. "In the old union, nothing happened. Now, life has begun again."

ESTONIA'S BIGGEST EXPORTER

Maie Liiva was working for the safety-belt producer, Norma, until summer 1999, when she was hired as a foreman at the fast-growing and successful company, Elcoteq. This is a Finnish-owned supplier to world-famous Nordic mobile phone companies. Maie Liiva says that she had received a good trade union training at Norma, where the union organises 85 per cent of the just under 900 employees and is the Estonian EMTA's biggest local union, but she did not want to join the Russian-speaking union at Elcoteq. "I did not like the style," she says. Therefore, she immediately formed a new union, of which, to begin with, she was the only member. Now it has 78 members, while the Russian-speaking union has 207.

Elcoteq is Estonia's biggest exporter. At present, the 8-year-old company has 2,756 employees with an average age of 32 years, and one-third of the workforce is under 25, most of them women. The factory is light and pleasant. The young women are well made-up, and they walk briskly as they stream in to check in for the afternoon shift. The personnel manager, Kylli Kanter, told me that the wages vary, but the average is 4,200 kroon ($300) per month. The company has no collective agreement and in her opinion there is no need for even one local trade union, and definitely not two! "I've nothing against a collective agreement if our employees want it, but there will be no agreement as long as there are two unions."

LIKE ALPINE CLIMBERS

Both unions maintain that they are working towards the same goals and that they will merge at some time in the future. At top union level there have been concrete discussions concerning a merger. EMTA is more positive about this, whereas the bigger union, EMTAL, points out that the Russian minority has problems over and above those of the rest of the population. They do not want to claim that they are victims of discrimination, but they do say that it is more difficult for an unemployed foreigner to get a job than for an Estonian citizen.

"The trade unions have a new role," says the president of EMTAL, Ljubov Serova, "and the relations between the employers and the unions have changed." Galina Volkova, a member of the union's board, explains: "Previously, the trade union had a lot of money and was respected. Nowadays, people wonder what we can offer them when we are so poor. They keep the same attitude as they had during the Soviet regime and do not want to take an active part, they just sit back and wait." Of the trade union dues, which are one per cent of the wages, 30 per cent goes to the central union. In 1999, EMTAL received only 45 per cent of the membership dues, as many workers have such low wages that they cannot afford to pay them. Four companies pay an average wage of 1,500 kroon ($106) per month. From the year 2000, the minimum legal wage is 1,400 kroon ($100) per month.

Leo Lüllemets, shop steward at Norma and vice-president of EMTA, said: "During the Soviet regime, the trade unions had an established role. We asked for whatever we needed and everything was supplied. Now we are obliged to be more dynamic, but it is not easy to make this change and to learn how to act in a market economy. We have been forced to find our own way."

Lüllemets said that Estonian society is changing rapidly, so one needs to be in good shape every day to keep up. The president of the same union, Endel Soon, compares the trade union activists with alpine climbers. "We had reached the halfway mark, but then we fell down. Now we have been forced to start again from the bottom."

"I FELT THAT WE WERE NEEDED" 

The small city of Keila, with 15,000 inhabitants, is situated 26 kms west of the capital, Tallinn. Ly Ristikivi, who is the representative of the local trade union at Harju Elekter, really started from the bottom. She has been working there for 20 years but was not at all active in the trade union during the Soviet regime, when the company had 2,000 employees. As a result of privatisation, eight smaller companies were formed, among them Harju Elekter with 400 employees. At a meeting in Spring 1993, most of them felt that a trade union was not necessary. Some of them were frightened of the new employer. Each of them was given an individual contract. If it didn't suit them, they just had to leave.

"I was the only one who was of the opinion that a trade union was more necessary than ever," said Ly. "We didn't know our legal rights and our employer was able to commit a lot of breaches of law. I considered that the union must fulfil other tasks than those it had had in the old days, and when I said this at the meeting, it influenced many people."

Ly succeeded in getting her fellow workers on her side, and they formed the core of a new local trade union. She studied labour legislation and other issues. "It was difficult but I felt even more sure that we were needed." In 1994, she came into conflict with management concerning a worker who was dismissed illegally. "Why are you making difficulties, fat little auntie?" asked the manager. "You should be taking care of your five children instead." I replied that "I make my own decisions."

Today, the manager appreciates and respects Ly Ristikivi's achievements. The company has grown to 600 employees, of whom 172 are trade union members. Ly did not even know of the existence of the central metalworkers' unions when she founded the local union, but in 1997 it joined EMTA. She works half-time on trade union issues and half-time assembling cables for the car industry. In her leisure hours, she is active in Estonian civil defence and has a Kalashnikov gun locked up in a cupboard at home, but she spends a great deal of her free time working for the trade union. She still reads legal texts, writes information material, trains union activists and arranges midsummer parties.

Some of the union activists attend courses arranged by the central union. Both EMTA and EMTAL cooperate with Nordic trade unions, and from the beginning of Estonian independence, the Finnish Metalworkers' Union has been providing training for the two unions. The most important areas have been organising, union studies and information.

The Estonian trade union movement has had to start from the very beginning. It has become less powerful as many industries have disappeared and union membership has decreased. Less than 10 years ago the country became an independent republic. It has been difficult to recruit trade union leaders in the many new small enterprises which have been created. The fear of losing one's job because of taking part in trade union activities is very real. Some of the present leaders have carried over from the Soviet regime, when it was not necessary to think or to take independent decisions since the instructions came from Moscow. Suddenly, they have had to stand on their own feet, and for the first 10 years they have been stumbling.

NEW LABOUR MARKET LAWS

"Ten years is a short period," says Leo Lüllemets at Norma. "There were also difficulties in Western Europe 10 years after the Second World War. Although our living standard is still at a low level, we shall gradually find our own way. Our self-confidence and our self-awareness vis-à-vis the employers and the law-makers must grow. Every day we feel more optimistic and more secure."

There is no national collective agreement between the employers and the unions within the metal industry and, therefore, the labour market laws are important. But even those have rapidly become obsolete, and the Ministry of Justice is revising these laws with the help of two Dutch experts. The trade unions fear that the new laws will be too general to provide the employees with real security, and they are hoping for more detailed laws, as the trade unions are small and the workers' position is weak.

Within the metal sector, agreements are made at company level, but not all employers are willing to sign these agreements. However, some of them are exemplary and positive towards trade union activities in the workplace as, in their opinion, it is better to negotiate with a trade union representative than with each single employee separately.

Unfortunately, other employers treat the workers badly, as is the case at Dvigatel.

It is a long road back to paradise.

The changeover in Estonia, from a Soviet-controlled communist planned economy to a capitalistic market economy, has been hard on the trade unions in this small country. Industries have shrunk and trade union membership has decreased.

Estonian unions

By STIG JUTTERSTRÖM

Ryu Jae han was 20 when he started working at the melting furnace at Sammi Speciality Steel Industry at Chang-won, one of the largest cities in South Korea, close to the country's south coast. The date was March 2, 1984, an important day in his young life.

At the beginning, the heat from the enormous furnace frightened him, but he looked at the future with a great deal of confidence. Having finished his mandatory 26 months' military service, his mind was entirely set at working hard. Ryu wanted to be financially independent, start a family and also be able to make a small contribution to his parents. Families are close-knit in South Korea.

Today, aged 36, he has been unemployed for three and a half years. Ryu belongs to the 150 Sammi workers who have been struggling every day since December 1996 to get their jobs back.

The struggle started when the Pohang Steel Corporation (Posco), the world's largest steel mill, took over Sammi Speciality Steel Industry. The corporation sacked 580 of the original 2,342 workers, claiming that they had no legal obligation to guarantee jobs for all the Sammi employees. However, Ryu, and the 185 other union activists the company managed to get rid of, thought there was such an obligation, and they won the support of four courts of law.

But that was to no avail. Posco, which is known for its anti-union stance, has refused to reinstate the sacked workers, and the case is now to be determined by the highest court of law in South Korea.

THEIR SAVINGS ARE USED UP

Ryu had really managed to become financially independent. He had saved 30 million Korean won (US$28,000) to buy a new car, and other things. He had bought a house in nearby Masan and started a family. His sons, Young-sun and Jung-hyun, were already six and three years old. But their savings are all used up now. His wife, Kim Sook-sun, delivers milk in the morning between 6 a.m. and 8 a.m., earning 30,000 won (US$28) a month. Ryu was earning 1.7 million won (US$1,590) a month at Sammi. Wages have fallen since then, with Korean metalworkers now earning between 600,000 and 1 million won (US$570-950) per month.

Ryu wears a red vest, a blue jacket and a red ribbon over his forehead with the words "Reinstate Sammi workers". He is furious about and even feels hatred for the way in which the company acted and is absolutely determined in his fight to get his job back. So is Cho Yong-chea, 54 years old, who has lived in Chang-won for 25 years. He was handpicked by the company, which hired him in 1979, promising to pay him twice the wages of the other workers. It took only a month for him to realise that the employer was not going to keep this promise. And as there was no trade union to help him, all he could do was to accept the wage decrease.

Today he has no wage at all. His three children are grown up and look after themselves. His wife works in a car safety-belt plant in order to feed the family. He became a trade union activist in 1996 and now describes himself as a "professional fighter." He is convinced that one day he will be reinstated.

The first trade union was started at his company in 1987, the year when South Korea was exploding with student and worker protests against the military dictatorship. Thousands were arrested, including the current South Korean president Kim Dae-jung, at that time one of the political opposition leaders, who was condemned to death and subsequently reprieved.

STRONG INTERNATIONAL SUPPORT

1987 also saw the beginnings of the organisation which was to become the Korean Metal Workers' Federation (KMWF), which supports the "Help Reinstate Sammi Speciality Steel Workers" campaign. So does the Korean Confederation of Trade Unions (KCTU), to which the KMWF belongs. Sammi workers have attracted a great deal of attention all over the country and provided a kind of lesson for Korean trade union struggles. Everybody now knows the Sammi workers, who have also attracted strong international support through a postcard campaign and many protest letters to the steel company and to the government.

There were trade unions in South Korea before 1987. There was and still is the metalworkers' union called the Federation of Korean Metalworkers' Trade Unions (FKMTU), which belongs to the Federation of Korean Trade Unions (FKTU). It was started soon after World War II and has always been recognised by the government. Since the law only permits one trade union in each sector, the KMWF and KCTU newcomers were considered illegal for a long time. The KCTU was formed in November 1995, but it was only recognised by the government in December of last year. During the period it was illegal, more than 3,000 trade union activists went in and out of jail.

It is the newer of the two metalworkers' unions, the KMWF, which is the larger, with 170,000 members, primarily from the automotive, shipbuilding and steel industries. The FKMTU has 120,000 members and is stronger in the electrical and electronics industries. Both unions have lost members since the 1997, due to the economic crisis and as a result of the government's policies since then.

WHY TWO METALWORKERS' UNIONS?

Why, then, are there two rival metalworkers' unions, and what are the differences between them?

"There are no ideological differences, and the aims are quite similar," says Yu Jae-soub, the president of the older metalworkers' union, the FKMTU. He became president in 1996, after heading the trade union at Lucky Goldstar for nine years.

"The difference between us is the way in which we act to reach our goals," he says. "They want things to go faster, and we take a calmer view. Since historically we have been a legal organisation, we don't get arrested either."

The president of the KMWF since 1999, Mun Sung-hyun has often been in jail. He laughed when I asked him if he intends to attend the IMF's Central Committee meeting in Birmingham this year: "Sure, if I am not in jail. So far I was in detention every time in the last five years."

In contrast with the KMWF, the FKMTU takes part in tripartite cooperation with the employers and the government. Although both unions had left the tripartite talks because they were not getting a response to their demands, the FKMTU returned some months ago. The younger of the two federations supported the small, newly-formed Democratic Labour Party (DLP) in this year's elections in April. They strongly criticise the current president, Kim Dae-jung, and his party, the Millennium Democratic Party (MDP), which the KMWF's leadership described as conservative and anti-worker. "Before he became president he promised to do a number of things which would benefit the poorest and the middle-ranking segments in society. But things have only got worse for them. Kim Dae-jung is in the hands of the employers," says Jeon Jae-hwan, the KMWF general secretary since February 1999.

DIFFERENT MEMBERSHIP SUBSCRIPTIONS

The established union, the FKMTU, did not officially support the labour party, although individual members of the leadership did. The president of the older FKTU national trade union centre, Park In-sang, who had previously been president of the metalworkers' union, resigned six weeks before the elections to run as a member of parliament in Kim Dae-jung's party.

Membership subscriptions also differ. The members of the newer metalworkers' union have to pay 1,500 won (US$1.40) a month, of which 500 won is paid to the national confederation. In the FKMTU, however, members pay 900 won (US$0.85) monthly, of which 300 won goes to the confederation. The reason for this huge difference is that the established union is given financial support by the government, which the younger union refuses to accept because of its principles.

The KMWF decided at its Congress in February this year that it would change and become a national industrial workers' union, from having previously been company-based. On the fourth floor of the office building where the union is situated, 22 members of union branches from all over the country have for several months been engaged in trade union studies; they are even reading the Swedish Metalworkers' Union constitution. They will be going to Sweden in two batches during the summer to learn more about the principle of industrial unions. The older metalworkers' union made a similar decision at its National Convention in May and hopes to learn from the experiences of IG Metall in Germany.

REFUGE IN THE MYONG-DONG CATHEDRAL
Sammi workers are not the only struggling workers in South Korea. When this reporter visited the country in early April, the carworkers at Daewoo Motor Company took industrial action one day to protest against the plan to sell the country's second largest car manufacturer to a foreign company, possibly General Motors or Ford. Sixty-seven workers were detained that day by the police when they took to the streets to protest against any overseas sale. The following day around 80,000 workers (Daewoo - 10,385 workers; Ssangyong autoworkers - 4,335; Hyundai autoworkers - 37,578; KIA autoworkers -- 20,094) downed their tools in protest against this possible sale. Hundreds of buses filled with police shock troops had been mobilised, but no one was detained. The demonstration took place only a few blocks from the Catholic Myong-dong cathedral, where many of the wanted workers' leaders have taken refuge in the past to avoid being arrested. Cardinal Stephano Kim Su-hwan has publicly supported both the Sammi workers and others in their struggles, and the police have never dared enter the cathedral to take the wanted persons into custody.

The South Korean trade union movement has been engaged in a defensive struggle over the last years. The militants feel very bitter about Kim Dae-jung, who has practised totally different policies from what he promised before the presidential elections in 1997. The protests against his policies have led to an even larger number of trade union leaders being detained in his three years in power than during the whole of the previous presidency. 

A HARD-WORKING PEOPLE

It is the industrial workers who have been at the forefront of the South Korean economic miracle. The country is virtually devoid of natural resources. Their greatest resource is the hard-working, inventive people of Korea, who work 44 hours a week plus overtime and are prepared to put up with just one week's holiday a year. Before the Asian crisis in 1997, the export industry was flourishing, and growth amounted to 6-8 percent per year. In the 1960s, the gross domestic product (GDP) per capita in South Korea was at the same level as that of Algeria. In 1997, their economy was the eleventh largest in the world, with a per capita income comparable to that of Portugal. During this time, average life expectancy had risen from 55 to 71 years.

The 1997 financial crisis, which is generally known as "the IMF crisis" (referring to the International Monetary Fund) in South Korea, made the country slip down in the list of wealthy nations. Slowly but surely it is on its way up again. The International Monetary Fund pumped large loans into the country on condition that the government carried out a number of reforms which enable transnational companies to enter the Korean market more easily than ever. The employers have been given increased rights to hire and fire people than before. The South Korean tradition of jobs for life in large industrial enterprises is no longer a matter of course. In 1998, 10,000 workers were losing their jobs every day. The crisis hit marginalised people even more, since there is no unemployment benefit or other social safety nets.

COUNTRY BEING RUN ON WORKERS' SACRIFICES

Kim Dae-jung had also promised to reform the family-controlled conglomerates, known as chaebols. The five largest are world brand leaders, such as Hyundai, Samsung, Daewoo, Lucky Goldstar and Sunkyong. They stand for a third of all sales in South Korea and half the country's exports. Out of 64 chaebols, a dozen went bankrupt during the crisis, but the largest retained their power. "There have been a few changes on paper, but not in reality," says Jeon Jae-hwan, the KMWF general secretary. "The Korean government and the big chaebols have always had a shared common interest in running this country, and it is based on workers' sacrifices".

Official unemployment figures have fallen rapidly and are now down to approximately 6 per cent, or 1,350,000 people. But this is only part of the truth. Many persons have given up on finding a permanent job and are no longer registered in the official statistics. The real truth is probably closer to 3 to 4 million unemployed.

South Korea is on its way up again after the Asian economic crisis. Industrial workers are once again at the forefront. The country's greatest resource is its hard-working, inventive people.

Korean struggle

Did you know that a metalworker in Austria, Japan or Great Britain has to work 5-6 hours to be able to buy a pair of shoes? Whereas he or she has to work 26-27 hours to buy a pair of shoes in Guatemala, Romania or Bangladesh, and 41 hours in Ukraine.
Source: The IMF publication "The Purchasing Power of Working Time - An International Comparison." Sector: Motor vehicles.

Did you know that a metalworker in Germany or Norway has to work 12-15 hours to be able to buy a refrigerator (100-250 litres)? If he lives in Belgium, Italy or Great Britain he has to work about 50 hours to buy a refrigerator. In Russia, he has to work about 250 hours and in India over 400 hours.
Source: The IMF publication "The Purchasing Power of Working Time - An International Comparison." Sector: Building and repairing of ships and boats.

Did you know that a metalworker in Belgium, Canada or Great Britain has to work 3-4 minutes to be able to buy 1 litre of fresh milk? Whereas he or she has to work 25-30 minutes to buy 1 litre of fresh milk in Ecuador, Zambia or Honduras.
Source: The IMF publication "The Purchasing Power of Working Time - An International Comparison." Sector: Basic Metals.

Did you know that a metalworker in Hungary, Italy or Japan has to work 10-15 minutes to be able to buy 1 kilo of rice. Whereas he or she has to work over half an hour to buy 1 kilo of rice in Latvia, Uruguay or the Philippines.
Source: The IMF publication "The Purchasing Power of Working Time - An International Comparison." Sector: Motor Vehicles.

Did you know that a metalworker in Australia, France or Ireland has to work 3-4 minutes to be able to buy 1 kilo of potatoes. Whereas he or she has to work 25-30 minutes to buy 1 kilo of potatoes in Colombia, Croatia or Malta, and almost one hour in the Philippines.
Source: The IMF publication "The Purchasing Power of Working Time - An International Comparison." Sector&gt; Electrical Machinery and Apparates.

Did you know that a metalworker has to work 1,480 hours to be able to buy a new medium-size car if he or she is living in Spain, 1,425 hours in the USA and 1,630 hours in France, whereas he or she has to work more than 5,000 hours to buy a new medium-size car in Argentina and South Africa. He or she has to work nearly 20,000 hours to buy a new medium-size car in Indonesia.
Source: The IMF publication "The Purchasing Power of Working Time - An International Comparison." Sector: Machinery and Equipment.

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