[DEBATE] : (Fwd) The case against Coke

Patrick Bond pbond at mail.ngo.za
Sat Apr 15 05:47:25 BST 2006


http://www.thenation.com/doc/20060501/blanding

The Case Against Coke
by MICHAEL BLANDING
[from the May 1, 2006 issue]

The ballroom at the Hotel du Pont in Wilmington, Delaware, is the picture of 
opulence. Paintings of Greek gods and goddesses peer down from the walls, 
lit by two crystal chandeliers the size of Mini Coopers. It's here in April 
that the Coca-Cola Company will hold its stockholders' meeting, an annual 
exercise designed to boost the confidence of investors. If the meeting is 
anything like last year's, however, it may do the opposite.
As stockholders filed into the room in April 2005, news hadn't been good for 
Coke, which has steadily lost market share to rivals. Investors were eager 
for reassurance from CEO Neville Isdell, a patrician Irishman who had 
recently assumed the top job. Few in the room, however, were prepared for 
what happened next. As Isdell stood at the podium, two long lines formed at 
the microphones. When he opened the floor, the first to speak was Ray 
Rogers, a veteran union organizer and head of the Campaign to Stop Killer 
Coke. "I want to know what [Coke is] going to do to regain the trust and 
credibility in order to stop the growing movement worldwide...banning Coke 
products," boomed the 62-year-old.
That was just the beginning of a ninety-minute slugfest that the Financial 
Times later said "felt more like a student protest rally" than a 
stockholders' meeting. One after another, students, labor activists and 
environmentalists blasted Coke's international human rights record. Many 
focused on Colombia, where Coke has been accused of conspiring with 
paramilitary death squads to torture and kill union activists. Others 
highlighted India, where Coke has allegedly polluted and depleted water 
supplies. Still others called the company to task for causing obesity 
through aggressive marketing to children.
In the past two years the Coke campaign has grown into the largest 
anticorporate movement since the campaign against Nike for sweatshop abuses. 
Around the world, dozens of unions and more than twenty universities have 
banned Coke from their facilities, while activists have dogged the company 
from World Cup events in London to the Winter Olympics in Torino. More than 
just the re-emergence of the corporate boycott, however, the fight against 
Coke is a leap forward in international cooperation. Coke, with its 
red-and-white swoosh recognizable everywhere from Beijing to Baghdad, is 
perhaps the quintessential symbol of the US-dominated global economy. The 
fight to hold it accountable has, in turn, broadly connected issues across 
continents to become a truly globalized grassroots movement.
Coke shrugs off the protests as coming from a "small segment of the student 
population," says Ed Potter, the company's director of global labor 
relations. "What I see are largely well-meaning attempts to put a spotlight 
on some reprehensible things--but which are unrelated to our workplaces." 
Nevertheless, Coke has fought back with ads on TV and in student newspapers, 
part of a mammoth advertising budget that has increased 30 percent in the 
past two years, to a staggering $2.4 billion. However, as evidence against 
the company mounts ahead of this year's annual stockholders' meeting, so 
does the pressure for Coke to address its growing international image of 
exploitation and brutality.
On the morning of December 5, 1996, union leader Isidro Segundo Gil was 
standing at the gate of the Coca-Cola bottling plant in Carepa, Colombia, 
when two paramilitaries drove up on a motorcycle and shot him dead. A week 
later, unionists say, paramilitaries lined up all the workers inside the 
plant and forced them to sign a letter resigning from the beverage union 
SINALTRAINAL, spelling the end of the union at the plant.
Violence against union members is a fact of life in Colombia, where nearly 
4,000 have been killed by paramilitaries in the past two decades. But Gil's 
murder was different, say his union brothers; two months earlier, they 
observed the plant manager meeting with a paramilitary commander in the 
company cafeteria. And just a week before he was killed Gil had been 
negotiating with the company over a new contract. Workers see these events 
as an example of the collusion of bottling executives with the 
paramilitaries. "From the beginning, Coca-Cola took a stand to not only 
eliminate the union but to destroy its workers," said SINALTRAINAL president 
Javier Correa in a recent speaking appearance in the United States.
Nor was Gil's murder a unique occurrence, says Correa. In all, eight union 
members and a friendly plant manager were killed between 1989 and 2002. Even 
today, union leaders routinely receive death threats and attempts on their 
lives. In 2003 paramilitaries kidnapped and tortured the 15-year-old son of 
one union leader and killed the brother-in-law of SINALTRAINAL's vice 
president. This past January, says Correa, managers at the Coca-Cola plant 
in Bogotá attempted to get workers to sign a statement saying Coke did not 
violate human rights; a week later the leader of the union received a death 
threat against himself and his family.
"Coke has a long history of being a virulently antiunion company," says 
Lesley Gill, an anthropology professor at American University who has twice 
been to Colombia to document the violence. "It has been calculated and 
targeted, and it usually takes place during periods of contract 
negotiations." A 2004 investigation directed by New York City Councilman 
Hiram Monserrate documented 179 "major human rights violations" against Coke 
workers, along with numerous allegations that "paramilitary violence against 
workers was done with the knowledge of and likely under the direction of 
company managers." The violence has taken a toll on the union. In the past 
decade, SINALTRAINAL's Coke membership has fallen from about 1,400 to less 
than 400.
Coca-Cola representatives deny involvement of the company or its bottling 
partners, contending that the murders are a byproduct of the country's civil 
war. In response, the company touts the security measures it offers union 
leaders, including loans for home security systems and reassignment for 
those in danger. Furthermore, Coke points out that it has been exonerated in 
several cases in Colombian courts. However, charging those courts as 
ineffective--only five paramilitaries have been found guilty of murder, 
despite 4,000 killings--SINALTRAINAL reached out in 2001 to the 
International Labor Rights Fund, a Washington-based solidarity organization. 
Using a US law called the Alien Tort Claims Act, the ILRF and the United 
Steelworkers filed suit against Coke and its bottlers in Miami later that 
year. In 2003 a judge ruled that Coca-Cola couldn't be held responsible for 
the actions of its bottlers and dropped it from the case, even while 
allowing the case against the bottlers to go forward. ILRF lawyer Terry 
Collingsworth finds that decision preposterous, noting that Coke has 
ownership shares in its Colombian bottlers and highly detailed bottling 
agreements. "I'm 100 percent sure that if Coca-Cola in Atlanta ordered them 
to change their uniform color from red to blue, they would do it," says 
Collingsworth. "They could stop these activities in a minute."
While the ILRF has appealed the decision, procedural rules require it to 
wait until the case against the bottlers is over before the case against 
Coke can be taken up again--a process that could take years. "We needed to 
figure out a way that Coke sees delay as bad," says Collingsworth. In 2003 
SINALTRAINAL put out a call for an international boycott of Coke products. 
At the same time, the ILRF contacted Ray Rogers, head of Corporate Campaign, 
Inc., an organization that consults with unions to win contracts through 
unorthodox methods. Over the past three decades, Rogers has forced 
concessions from a dozen companies--including American Airlines, Campbell's 
Soup and New York's Metropolitan Transportation Authority--not through 
strikes or negotiations but through an aggressive strategy of publicly 
embarrassing anyone associated with his targets.
Rogers immediately saw Coke's weakness: its brand. "They are right at the 
top of the worst companies in the world, and yet they've created an image 
like they are American pie," he says. "When people think of Coca-Cola, they 
should think about great hardship and despair for people and communities 
around the world." >From the beginning, Rogers appropriated Coke's trademark 
red script to make the Killer Coke logo, and tweaked its advertising 
campaign with slogans like "The Drink That Represses" and "Murder--It's the 
Real Thing." He made a dramatic first appearance at a Coke annual meeting 
two years ago, when police wrestled Rogers away from the mike and forcibly 
dragged him out of the hall.
Early on, Rogers rejected SINALTRAINAL's call for a consumer boycott of Coke 
products, fearing it would be ineffective and might alienate unions working 
with Coke. He focused on "cutting out markets" by going after larger 
institutional ties. He convinced several unions, including the American 
Postal Workers, several large locals of the Service Employees International, 
and UNISON, the largest union in Britain, to ban Coke from their facilities 
and functions, and he induced pension-fund managers, including the City of 
New York, to pass resolutions threatening to withdraw hundreds of millions 
in Coke stock investments unless Coke investigated the Colombia abuses. He 
persuaded not only the SEIU but the largest US union of Coke's own 
employees, the Teamsters, to pass a resolution in support of the Campaign to 
Stop Killer Coke and to speak out at last year's annual meeting (the 
Teamsters stopped short of banning Coke from their own facilities). "It's 
horrendous what we're hearing," says David Laughton, secretary-treasurer of 
the union's beverage division. "The company's lack of action is having a 
ripple effect all over the country in school and college, and that means 
reductions in jobs for us. It's time for them to wake up and admit their 
errors."
The campaign's greatest success has come at colleges and universities. 
Rogers set up a website with a step-by-step guide for students looking to 
convince their institutions to cut multimillion-dollar Coke contracts, and 
he's traveled to schools to hold rallies and advise students. One by one, 
more than a dozen schools in the United States, as well as a handful more in 
Ireland, Italy and Canada, have decided to cut lucrative beverage contracts 
or otherwise ban Coke from campuses. The effort accelerated after it was 
joined by United Students Against Sweatshops--one of the main groups behind 
the Nike boycott of the 1990s--which helped organize its own chapters. 
Anti-Coke campaigns are now active at some 130 campuses worldwide. "This 
campaign against Coke has politicized a new generation of students," says 
Camilo Romero, a national organizer with USAS. "It's something that students 
feel personally connected to, because it's something they can hold in their 
hand," says Aviva Chomsky, a professor at Salem State College in 
Massachusetts, which severed ties two years ago. "It's too easy to say, 
'There are so many bad things in the world, I'm just going to concentrate on 
my own life.' It's the concreteness of this that's appealing."
While student campaigns have mostly focused on the abuses in Colombia, some 
have included demands from other countries as well. Few companies have the 
kind of global reach of Coca-Cola, which has set up a network of bottling 
partners around the world that allows it to maximize profits by keeping 
distribution costs down and exploiting lax environmental and labor laws 
abroad. The first rumblings came from India, where villagers near several 
Coke bottling plants reported that their wells were dropping, sometimes more 
than fifty feet; meanwhile, the water they were able to get was tainted by 
foul-smelling chemicals. Starting in 2002 villagers near Plachimada, in the 
southern state of Kerala, began a permanent vigil outside the local plant. 
They finally won an indefinite closure in March 2004, although the case 
remains an issue in the Kerala High Court.
Villagers started another vigil, at Mehdiganj in central India, this past 
March. Escalating protests there and at a third plant, in the desert state 
of Rajasthan, have ended in police attacks on villagers employing Gandhian 
tactics of nonviolence, which Amit Srivastava of the India Resource Center 
(IRC) lays at Coke's feet. "We know the company has the power to stop the 
police from resorting to violence," he says, "but it has let this go on 
without saying a word."
The IRC has been joined in its mission by Corporate Accountability 
International (CAI), which has attacked Coke on its aggressive push to sell 
bottled water. "If water becomes a branded product, it's clearly going to 
undermine the demand and support for publicly managed water systems," says 
CAI executive director Kathryn Mulvey. "The people who lose out are those 
who don't have the means to pay top dollar for their water." As a veteran 
anticorporate campaigner, Mulvey sees the Coke campaign as a new model. 
"People are taking these abuses that are happening all over the world and 
bringing them to Coke's headquarters," she says. "Transnational corporations 
are really surpassing the nation-state as the dominant economic and 
political institutions. Social change movements need to find ways to come 
together across borders and strategize."
The broad attack against the company has been a strength for the campaign, 
allowing diverse groups to share information and recruit greater numbers at 
protests, as well as making a more difficult target for counterattacks. "The 
company can't control it," says Rogers. "They realize they can't get rid of 
one person or group and hope the thing will die." At the same time, the 
sheer number of charges against Coke raises the question of how and when the 
campaign can declare victory. On that score, the different groups are clear 
about their specific goals. The Campaign to Stop Killer Coke, for example, 
has adopted seven demands by SINALTRAINAL, which include a human rights 
policy for bottling companies and compensation for families of slain 
workers. The campaign in India calls for closure of certain plants, cleanup 
of others and compensation for affected villagers.
Many student campaigns have made their top demand an independent 
investigation into the Colombia abuses. At last year's annual meeting, Coke 
tried to mollify critics by releasing the results of a company-funded study, 
which was rejected by students as woefully biased. Still facing the prospect 
of boycotts at several universities--among them Rutgers, NYU and 
Michigan--Coke put together a commission of students, school administrators 
and labor leaders to come up with a protocol for an independent inquiry. "I 
was honestly hopeful, perhaps naïvely," says USAS's Romero. "It seemed like 
they were putting this new investment into making things work." From the 
beginning, however, the company insisted it had a right to be on the 
commission; even after Coke was booted by the students, it kept putting 
strictures on the investigation, such as a moratorium on investigating past 
abuses. The final straw was Coke's insistence that anything uncovered be 
inadmissible in the court case in Miami, which Collingsworth says is against 
legal ethics. "We cannot prejudice our clients by agreeing to bury evidence 
that would support their claims," he wrote in an angry letter to Coke's Ed 
Potter.
At around the same time, new evidence of Coke's antilabor tactics emerged in 
Indonesia, where, according to USAS, workers were intimidated when they 
attempted to unionize; and in Turkey, where more than 100 union members were 
fired and then clubbed and tear-gassed by police during a protest. This past 
November the ILRF filed another lawsuit against Coca-Cola, based on the 
claims of the Turkish workers. By that point, students had had enough; all 
but one left the commission.
With the failure of the investigation commission, administrators at some 
schools ran out of excuses to keep the Coke contracts. Both NYU and Michigan 
suspended contracts in December. NYU's status as the country's largest 
private university earned the campaign national and international press. "We 
knew if we were to ban Coca-Cola, our statement would resound around the 
world," says Crystal Yakacki, a recent NYU graduate who helped lead the 
campaign while she was a student.
As this year's annual meeting nears, Coke has gone on the offensive, 
announcing a plan to draft a new set of workplace standards. At the same 
time, the company has asked the UN's International Labor Organization to 
perform a workplace evaluation of the Colombia bottling plants. Rogers and 
Collingsworth have already cried foul, pointing out that Potter has been the 
US employer representative to the ILO for the past fifteen years. "Either 
they know something we don't know," says Collingsworth, "or they believe the 
ILO moves so slowly and bureaucratically that they can delay." In response, 
Potter claims the organization is so large that no one person can influence 
it. Regardless, the gambit is having some effect: In April Michigan, citing 
"the reputation and track record of ILO," rescinded its ban.
At the Hotel du Pont on April 19, organizers hope to stage a repeat of last 
year's grilling, with an even larger contingent of activists in attendance. 
Schools debating Coke contracts this spring include Michigan State, UCLA, 
the University of Illinois, DePaul and several campuses of the City 
University of New York. In Britain, the campaign lost a close vote in April 
to convince the National Union of Students--which represents 750 
campuses--to cut a multimillion-pound contract. Many British universities, 
however, are continuing individual boycotts, as are campuses in Italy, 
Ireland, Germany and Canada. "This is a moment in history that is very rare, 
where students have the power to change one of the largest corporations in 
the world," says Romero. After recent campus victories, momentum seems to be 
on the side of the campaign. "Coke has a contracting market; we have an 
expanding market," says Rogers. "I want Coke to come to the realization that 
there is a lot more for them to lose by continuing to do what they do. They 
have to be made to do the right thing for the wrong reason."
Until they do, say activists, the violence against Coke's workers will 
continue. "It's very difficult for me to convince my family that they have 
to live with the worries, and that they will one day maybe have to receive 
bad news," says SINALTRAINAL's Correa. "My kids say that walking with Dad is 
like walking with a time bomb. But I can't leave this struggle seeing these 
violations happening all around me. The reality of the situation is that 
it's better being with a union than without one." 




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