Uniting independent operators, company employees, and truckers hired by employment agencies, the truckers demanded recognition of their union--the Syndicat National du Transport Routier, an affiliate of the Confederation of National Trade Unions of Québec (CNTU)--and the negotiation of a contract providing some relief from their difficult working conditions and desperate financial situation. Rank-and-file truckers worked for two years to sign up more than 1,000 drivers, resulting in the CNTU applying to the Canadian Industrial Relations Board (CIRB) for recognition at 41 trucking companies.

Faced with stalling by the CIRB and refusal to negotiate by the bosses, the truckers decided to go on strike October 22. About 650 of those who signed up for the union participated in the walkout, which nearly paralyzed the busiest container port in the North Atlantic. A backlog of 15,000 containers piled up in just five days, idling some factories in the area. Containers were stacked five high, well above the safe limit of three.

When the government hit the strikers with an injunction barring effective picketing, they set up a camp across the street from a key entrance to the port and reached out to win solidarity from other CNTU locals. In face of a determined walkout, the Parti Québécois government of Prime Minister Lucien Bouchard introduced strike-breaking legislation that was adopted unanimously by the Quebec National Assembly November 2. The strikers defied the legislation. On November 8, an assembly of 500 truckers voted to continue the strike even as the companies began firing strikers, and bailiffs and cops were delivering hundreds of notices of fines of up to $1,000.

The federal government in Ottawa also lashed out at the strikers. After years of delays, the CIRB suddenly announced that it had rejected 33 of 41 CNTU accreditation applications.

The big-business media focused on the fact that Teamsters union members who are truckers at the port were crossing the picket lines. The Teamsters are affiliated to the Quebec Federation of Labor (QFL). This allowed the port to move about 30 percent of normal traffic. Throughout the strike unionists held regular rallies and demonstrations, including one of 250 November 19 that closed the street outside a federal election rally of the Bloc Québécois where Bouchard was scheduled to speak.

However, under the blows from the government and the bosses, the ranks of the strikers began to dwindle. On November 19 an assembly of 250 strikers voted 66 percent to end their strike after the Quebec government agreed to name a special mediator. One of the conditions was that the 180 fired truckers were to be rehired either by their employer or another in the industry. In addition, the trucking bosses had agreed to an increase in what they paid truckers for hauling containers.

A large number of the strikers were rehired. But when the bosses took a hard line against those they saw as union activists, the mediator went along. Truckers like Huard received no severance pay or compensation, were not offered other jobs, and found themselves blacklisted by container transporters. He now works for an employment agency hiring out drivers to the trucking firms.

"I don't believe in mediators anymore," said Guy L'Espérance in an interview December 16. L'Espérance is an independent trucker who has worked in the industry for 30 years. Involved in previous organizing attempts, he was one of the rank-and-file organizers of the recent drive. To date, there has been no coordinated public effort by union officials to fight the firings and other reprisals such as fines.

A number of truckers said that they did not expect the scope of the antiunion attack from the bosses and particularly from the government. But they point out that the strike has better prepared them for future struggles and solidified the ranks of the workers.

"I have more respect for the Indian truckers," stated L'Espérance referring to the large number of English-speaking truckers from the Punjab in India who fought alongside French-speaking Québécois like him. "And I think they now have more respect for me."

Al Cappe is a meat packer in Montreal.  
 
 
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