Casual Worker's Strike in the Schools of Marseilles
report | prols 7/2003
This text is an account of one week of strikes among casual workers in
schools in Marseilles, within the context of a small movement of casual
workers in education. Similar 'movements' took place around the
country, but due to the failure to organize a national co-ordination of
strike committees information from other cities was hard to come by. In
the introduction I try to explain the public services in France, their
casualisation, and the role of casual labour within education. In the
conclusion I give a few brief assessments of the central features of
the struggle and its internal contradictions.
Background to reforms in the public services
France is one of the least developed of all European countries in
terms of privatisation and welfare reform. The electric and gas
monopolies, the trains and local transport systems, are still in public
hands and the state has a controlling share in France Telecom, Air
France, and several large banks. In a country where even the lowliest
dishwasher has a set of minimum conditions (wages, hours, holiday and
sickness pay...) determined by a union agreement at a national level,
the public sector workers are particularly well protected. Most public
sector workers are fonctionnaires. This is not a contract but a
statute; fonctionnaires are 'agents of the state', and as such it is
practically impossible to fire them. They receive automatic pay-rises
linked to years of service independently of performance or promotion.
They retire 2 and half years earlier than their private sector
counterparts and receive hefty pensions. There are four million of
them, they have a lot of turf to defend, and have a reputation for
defending it well, as in the crippling 1995 strike wave which forced
the last right-wing government of Alain Juppé to back down on its
proposed welfare reforms.
Despite their privileges in relation to the private sector
fonctionnaires are not the exception but the rule in their fields.
Unlike other countries where only qualified workers are eligible to
such guaranteed job-protection, in France the fonctionnaires fill
almost every position: from selling tickets in the trains station to
answering calls at the gas board or cleaning the floors in the
hospitals. In education the vast majority of jobs, academic or not, in
the vast majority of schools (the private sector being negligible) are
done by fonctionnaires looked after by big corporatist unions (a big
independent federation just for education - FSU - plus federations of
the big national confederations and numerous autonomous unions). These
unions not only defend the fonctionnaires' advantages, they see
themselves as partners in the management of education, guardians of the
cultivation of the nation's youth. In this they represent well their
rank file in that the language of standards and values rather than work
and conditions, the contesting of the management of the (welfare) state
and thus self-identification with the bureaucracy, is the norm in most
struggles. That is until the state started to casualize the workforce.
Before the 90's the only significant category of non-fonctionnaires
in French schools, apart from interns and people doing work-experience,
were the surveillants or peons. This was a special 7-year contract just
for students that had existed since 1937 which mainly involved the
'surveillance' of pupils outside of classes, whether in the playground
or during the obligatory supervised homework, along with other menial
tasks in the administration. It is debatable whether one can call them
casual workers in the modern sense since for the 7-year period they
received the same kind of job-protection as the fonctionnaires; along
with relatively good hourly pay for their short 20-hour week. In fact
it was always coined as a cushy job to help out students in need, and
there is a nominal means test in the application. Nevertheless it
remained the case that these student-workers had less secure contracts
than the fonctionnaires who were slopping out the school diners and
mopping up the floors, all of whom could quite comfortably remain there
in the assurance of regular pay-rises until retirement. Such a
situation was ripe for reform.
In 1990 François Mitterrand's socialist government introduced the
marvellously titled Contrat Emploi-Solidarité (solidarity-employment
contract) or CES, supposedly to better the lot of interns and give them
real job contracts. However these minimum wage - 20-hour/week - 6-month
contracts, renewable at the employer's discretion up to a maximum of 2
years, proved very useful as a way to introduce casual labour into the
public sector and parts of the private sector too. Every year the
number of CES increased, in schools they filled up almost every new
post in the kitchens, cleaning and the bottom rung of the
administration, and any idea that these people were somehow interns,
i.e. looking to climb there way up the public services, was quickly
forgotten as the official justification became one of 'managing the
unemployment crisis'. This was true to the extent that the CES became
the contract for people coming off of the dole, a bizarre state of
affairs when you realise that the monthly wage of a CES is 500 euros,
only 100 more than the minimum French social security payment (the
RMI); but the unemployment crisis in the nineties invented all sorts of
pressures to push people into crap jobs, the benefit from the employers
point of view was that many of these CES had skills which came free of
charge.
When Jospin's socialist government took power in 1997 as a direct
result of Juppé's defeat by the unions he promised jobs, and not just
disposable ones. By this time unemployment had reached unheard of
proportions, with 4-6 million out of work, and youth unemployment had
become the centre of the now generalised crisis, with an 'unemployed
movement' small in number but big on visibility in actions like
mass-looting of supermarkets and occupations of dole offices. Jospin
proposed a new 'emploi jeune' (youth employment) contract which was
billed as an entrance into a profession, with promises of training with
a view to titularisation in the public services - the competitive
process of becoming fonctionnaire. Like the CES the emploi jeunes
received minimum wage and were mainly employed in the public sector;
the difference was that they had longer contracts (five years), they
worked full time and thus brought home more money, and they were all
under 25 and unskilled. In education they were given the title
'aide-éducateurs' (helper-educators) and mainly filled new classroom
assistant roles created by the expansion of class sizes (roles which
would otherwise have led to the creation of more fonctionnaires) and
replaced some of the surveillant's functions. They were generally
assigned to inner-city schools in dire need of extra staff. They
initially had 39-hour contracts but these were reduced after the
introduction of the 35 hour week in 1999, and by happy accident the
four hours to go were those set aside for training.
These three categories, CES, aide-éducateur, and surveillant tended
to flow into each other in the actual distribution of the work in
schools: the CES generally spreading in the kitchens and less academic
sections; the aide-éducateurs becoming regular furniture in the
classrooms, libraries and computer rooms; and the surveillants
increasingly squeezed between them, watching parts of their job getting
farmed out to the more flexible newcomers.
During the nineties the powerful public sector unions put up little
or no fight to this slow casualisation of their foundations. It may be
asked why the fonctionnaires did not respond to a threat to their job
security. The simple answer is that it did not really constitute one.
However much these measures seemed to encroach on their terrain,
threatening a fonctionnaire's job remained illegal and given the
struggles of the past decades no government in their right mind would
touch that law; thus only new posts were casualized. The unions failed
to resist not only because none of their members were individually
threatened by these new contracts, but also because as I point out
above the efficient running of the education system remains in the
direct interest of their rank and file (the fonctionnaires) and such
efficiency calls for a competitive hiring and firing of the most basic
extra-curricula work - work becoming all the more necessary because of
the growing social crisis, with its increasing levels of delinquency.
It should thus come as no surprise that the unions failed to react with
force when Jean-Pierre Raffarin's centre-right government took power in
the summer of 2002 and announced that it was foreclosing on the
aide-éducateur project and phasing out all the surveillants to replace
them both with the new assistant d'éducation position, a streamlined 3
year contract equivalent to that of the aide-éducateurs without the
fancy promises. The workers were thus left to organize their reaction
themselves.
Strikes in Marseilles
In this article I will only deal with the strikes as they took place in
Marseilles. As far as we were able to gather similar small
mobilizations took place around the country, following similar paths
with more or less union involvement. The non-realisation of a proposed
co-ordination of strike committees in Paris made practical information
hard to come by.
The surveillants and aide-éducateurs generally took the news of
their replacement pretty badly. For the surveillants it was another
attack on student benefits, whereas the aide-éducateurs, who had been
carrying on small isolated strikes demanding their promised training
and titularisation rights, saw the new contractuals who were given no
such promises as the final proof that they had been lied to all along.
Pushed by this anger from a part of their base (for it must be added
that both the aide-éducateurs and surveillants had in their struggles
signed up to union mediated bargaining systems, something that gave the
union a small but significant reason to fight, in that their
replacements (CES and assistants d'éducation) would be much harder to
unionise) the FSU (the big education union) called a token strike on
September the 23rd just for the posts being phased out and about 150
people turned out on the streets of Marseilles. In the meeting that
followed the mood was uninspiring, the union insisted that there was no
use pursuing the struggle and that instead we had to 'build the
movement' and essentially wait for the teachers.
We didn't have to wait long, but the teachers had other reasons to
take to the streets. In October the government announced its plan to
decentralize national education, a process which would immediately
involve the transfer of the maintenance and kitchen fonctionnaires into
the hands of local councils and thus no longer directly employed by the
state. In the ensuing one-day stoppages and demos the unions insisted
on the inequality of the proposed reform, its tendency to benefit
richer catchment areas and its anti-republican spirit; but it was these
workers, fearing for the security of their contracts, who formed a
large part of the initial mobilisations. In the demos the banners
opposed casualisation as well as decentralization. However for the
union the key issue was in neither one of these demands, but in
building a movement that would be ready to react to the retirement
reforms that the government was to announce in February.
Many aide-éducateurs and surveillants used the opportunity of
official national strikes to take days off work throughout the autumn;
in one school they even called their own one day strike and managed to
get the CES to support them. But on the whole the CES, who were not
being phased out but rather consistently augmented, were disconnected
from the others. The same separation appeared between the casuals and
the rest of the mobilisation; unlike the fonctionnaires they had little
if anything to demand, and much less anything to defend. Their jobs
were not being threatened; they were just told that people would no
longer have the same opportunities they had had. Yet the only defence
of these 'opportunities' was that they weren't as bad as the CES or
proposed assistant d'éducation contracts. There was hardly anyone
asking to stay on, everyone had taken the jobs knowing they would have
to leave when the contract ran out, and though the aide-éducateurs had
been given false hopes of titularisation, after five years on the
frontline in some of the toughest schools they understandably retained
little enthusiasm for the profession. On the other hand the
surveillants were all students and were happy to see their jobs as
transitory, as by and large they expected their studies to purchase
them a higher entry point on the career ladder. In these conditions the
small groupings of aide-éducateurs and surveillants that started
turning up on demos and eventually formed into the 'collective MI-SE
[surveillants] aide-éducateur' (hereafter known as the collective) were
driven less by an objective need for solidarity than by a personal one.
No one had any illusions about the possibility of challenging the
government's decision because no-one was willing to really fight to
defend the minimal job security of those who would replace them. The
initial motivations for the collective came more than anywhere from the
will of several enthusiastic militants. In Marseilles two militants in
particular (from two different anarcho-syndicalist unions, the French
CNT having split into two in 1993) helped to build strong strike
committee in their respective schools, committees which would remain
the principal source of strength for the collective throughout the
struggle.
Though the militants who formed its base by and large already knew each
other, the collective was formed at the beginning of March when an
administrative cock up gave the aide-éducateurs something immediate to
fight against. Those who were coming to the end of their terms in
January and not June had been told that their contracts would be
extended until June and that if they didn't accept it they would not
get any dole money. This (illegal) threat on behalf of the local
education body caused a lot of people to worry about their dole, and
many phoned up to insure they would get the full unemployment benefit.
They received the answer that due to a lack of staff many would have to
wait 4 months, from June to October, before they could touch their
first cheque. For those who were estranged from their families or had
families of their own this was intolerable and the casuals in two
schools (the two mentioned above) walked out on strike on the 10th of
March.
The next day the meeting of the collective drew about 40 strikers, many
from other schools who had already been visited by groups of strikers
in a practice known in French as 'débrayage', the spreading of a strike
by doing the rounds of the branches and encouraging everyone to walk
out. We decided, as well as continuing the débrayage, to carry out two
occupations the next day: the school which handles the wages of the
aide-éducateurs and the local academic administration. The occupations
although clumsy and unclear in their objectives did manage to put the
wind up the administration and a flustered headmaster promised us an
interview the same day with the 'Recteur' - the head of education for
the region. That afternoon fifty strikers turned up at the Rectorat in
Aix-en-Provence. The Recteur failed to show up but he sent four
bureaucrats to speak in his place. They calmly explained that we had
been misinformed and that new staff would be assigned to the task of
processing the unemployment claims and that everyone would get their
dole money within a month of terminating their contracts. Our immediate
demand quelled we had nothing to do but quibble over the
aide-éducateurs' lack of training or vent our anger over the proposed
assistant d'éducation project, and since we had no more questions the
bureaucrats didn't hang around. We stayed in the conference room to
hold a meeting of the collective, but the mood was low. Already rifts
were appearing, and though we managed to vote to continue the strike
its meaning was getting increasingly contested. A division arose
between those who wished to follow the FSU and the larger teachers'
movement and those who wished to preserve the 'autonomy' of our
struggle as casual workers.
One thing we didn't mention to the bureaucrats who received us at
the Rectorat was the first demand on our list, the list drawn up at the
first strike meeting. This was for the immediate titularisation of all
the casual workers, that is, for everyone to become a fonctionnaire,
life-long contract and pay-scale to boot. It wasn't mentioned because
we all knew it to be an absurd demand. Absurd not just because
manifestly impossible at a time when fewer and fewer fonctionnaire
posts were being created on every level, but because very few of us
would have actually wanted to work for another year in the kind of jobs
we were doing, let alone for life. Those who did have such aspirations
were generally already following the official channels (competitive
exams) open to individuals who want to become fonctionnaires, and
clearly had a much better chance than in collectively demanding such a
promotion. It was however the only demand that could be shared equally
among the surveillants, aide-éducateurs and the few CES who were there;
it was the only thing we could fight for together, that is: a change
that would really bring us together, and in a position to have the kind
of corporate solidarity enjoyed by the others in the public sector. To
struggle together as casual workers implied valorizing the permanent
contracts we didn't necessarily want; and this because to 'struggle
together' we needed certain bases on which to build our 'community of
struggle': a constant presence alongside one another, a common
stronghold of terms and conditions to defend and a shared identity to
affirm; bases we lacked as diverse and isolated casual workers. This
demand got expressed as a demand for 'autonomy', though paradoxically
one that sought that autonomy in what we were not. To abandon our
autonomy would be to relegate ourselves to a minor position in the
wider movement against casualisation, supporting those who resist the
casualisation of their jobs and trying to avoid the deterioration of
our existing contracts. This was what the FSU union expected from us
and exacted from its members who had joined the collective. There thus
appeared a divergence in the collective that came to a head in the
following meetings where representatives of the FSU openly opposed the
titularisation of the casuals outside of the existing system of
competitive exams (and remember this could be for becoming a
diner-lady!). This might seem like a gross lack of solidarity, coming
from teachers who were supposed to be there to support us, but it is in
fact the logical position for them in defending their enviable
contracts, the boundaries of which are necessarily the boundaries of
their solidarity, for every community of struggle is automatically an
exclusion, and the competitive entry exams give the fonctionnaires a
real autonomy in relation to other workers.
Of course the union (who never officially supported the strike)
justifies itself with a discourse of funding and standards and ends up
with an essentially governmental argument for its de facto acceptance
of casualisation. On their terms it is undisputable, the fact of the
matter is that casual labour can make the school into a more efficient
and thus more worthy institution. This too is a perfectly natural
product of the teacher's position; that is, as both wage-worker and
bureaucrat the teacher will tend to see her work as both a wage and a
cause, and to the latter extent will identify herself with her boss
(the state), supporting measures to economise while defending
'quality'. The union's interest in our struggle seemed to be largely
related to the need to extend the movement against the pension reforms
which Raffarin had announced in February. But it must not be assumed
from this that the FSU was only interested in derailing our more
radical, because casual-worker, struggle. After all, wasn't our most
radical demand to become fonctionnaires ourselves? No, the struggle was
defeated by much more concrete obstacles than the union could ever
muster.
The next day, Thursday, was spent doing the 'débrayage' of the
schools of Marseilles. We travelled in groups of 3-6, usually on foot,
and the long distances tired us out, more so than a normal day's work.
We would generally find support in one or two of the schools we
visited, either commitments to strike Friday and come to the demo we
had called in front of the Rectorat in Aix-en-Provence, or better...
the immediate walk out of all the casuals, some of whom would tag along
with us. But one or two out of the 8 or 9 schools each group had on
their list was not enough to keep us motivated, and we were soon
exhausted and discouraged. Those that walked out usually did so for a
collection of problems relating to working conditions but the question
of the dole money was always significant. We had continued to insist on
this issue despite the fact that we had received assurances about it
the day before; partly because we mistrusted the bureaucrats but partly
because we knew this to be the best argument to get people to strike.
(we later found out that the bureaucrats had not been lying and had in
fact assigned new staff to deal with the unemployment claims).
Around 100 people came to the demo at the Rectorat on Friday, among
them some striking aide-éducateurs from Avignon where the FSU had got
more involved in the struggle. Only about half of those who had
promised to come the day before turned up, but this still amounted to
the biggest gathering of strikers we had mustered. Looking around us
and back at the week of strikes it was clear that we had to a certain
extent upset the normal functioning of the schools in the region, but
watching the crowd trickle away out of confusion or boredom the future
didn't look bright. We did however have one last action of our own
before the next Tuesday's national education strike promised to swallow
up our 'autonomy' in the generalised protest against the reforms of the
retirement system. We had heard that the Recteur was visiting a school
in Marseilles on Monday. Since he had refused to meet us the day we had
been promised an audience with him we decided to pay him an impromptu
visit.
We were about 60 at the school gates on the Monday morning, our
ranks swelled by teachers whose discourse was notably different:
banners announcing solidarity with parents, troubled students, and the
defence of the unity of education; anticipating things to come as the
teachers would take more and more of the initiative. A few of us
decided to block the gates, and when the Recteur's car tried to pass
there ensued a scuffle with his security guards in which the
school-kids, then out on their break, came to our help and completely
surrounded the vehicle. There was a stand off of about 20 minutes
before the Recteur gave in to the circumstances and proposed to meet
with union delegates. Most people left before the delegates could come
back with the results, such was the recognition of the uselessness of
negotiations. What was there to discuss?
The next day the collective would find itself isolated on the
enormous public sector demonstration against the pension reforms. At
first we confronted the strong-arms of the CGT who told us that we had
strayed out of the education cortege so we retreated only to find
animosity from the FSU who refused to accept our presence, referring to
our banners demanding the titularisation of the casuals and the
disputes in the meetings. Thus we found our 'autonomy' finally
vindicated by a 20 meter gap separating us from the rest of the
movement in front and behind. In the days that followed as more schools
joined the growing strike wave we found our rather idiosyncratic
movement swamped by the teachers and within the week the collective
dissolved itself, recognizing that there was no place in such a
movement for an independent struggle of casual workers.
Conclusion
Of course the end of the collective did not mean the end of the strike.
Many casual workers have followed the strikes since, some schools have
been on strike for months now and at the time of writing the education
sector in Marseilles is crippled by these strikes to an extent never
before seen. However many ex-members of the collective have expressed
regret that there is no bloc of casual workers on the demos and a
general lack of interest in the struggle from among those who had
struck with us. This is easy to understand given few of us believe that
the pension system will be worth saving by the time we are 60. What is
more significant than our separation from the wider movement are the
divisions that arose in the heart of our little strike and our
isolation not just from the teachers but from the majority of casuals.
Already the relative absence of CES was important. There was a real
hierarchy that went CES, aide-éducateur, surveillant, each with
significant privileges over the one before. The CES were generally not
even consulted during the débrayage, not just because they weren't
suppressing their contract but because the others tended to see them as
having nothing to defend and therefore no reason to fight. Ironically
this is exactly how the teachers saw the aide-éducateurs and
surveillants. On the other hand certain militants saw having nothing to
defend as having nothing to lose, and therefore the best of all reasons
to fight to the finish; yet what finish?
The explanations for the collective and its struggle came in many
different flavours, from self-organising the schools from the bottom
up, to profiting from an excuse to go on strike and have a laugh. Many
talked about the need for casual workers to get together and
'fraternise', giving the impression they hoped for a special kind of
solidarity to form that would help us overcome our isolation and even
the limits of the struggle. A solidarity to do what was rarely clear,
and often this need got expressed in completely abstract terms like the
need for casuals 'to have a voice' or 'to be autonomous'. Whether
calling for 'self-organisation' of for autonomy, the 'radicals' in the
collective consistently showed themselves to be missing the point.
Rather than a search for new means of struggle they seemed to be
holding a séance to revive dead ones, harking back to a time when the
workers struggled together not just because they had to, but because in
struggling together they could build an alternative power to that of
capital, and present their working class identity as a positivity to
fight for. What made the effort within the collective to build a real
solidarity/autonomy so anachronistic, and ultimately futile, was that
hardly any of us wanted to identify ourselves with our crap jobs. We
all had different desires, the only one we shared was not wanting to be
where we were, and it follows that few fancied wearing their job titles
on their sleeve as a sticker or following behind a banner which
explicitly defended such titles. Those that did were usually either
doing union work or had political reasons for doing so, even though
these would often be expressed as social needs as the collective began
to get to know each other and friendships formed.
On the other hand the anachronism of our demands cannot just be but
down to militant ideology. Even in relation to the bread and butter
issues which really provoked the strike there was much contradiction.
The contradiction was often conscious, as in the case of an
aide-éducateur affiliated to the FSU who exclaimed in a meeting: 'What
we are doing is defending a lousy casualized contract, but
paradoxically we have to realize that we have no other option'. In
demanding the prompt payment of our dole, in demanding proper training
and titularisation opportunities, we are demanding that our contract is
respected. In fighting against the replacement of this contract with a
worse one we are demanding that our contract be preserved indefinitely.
And yet we all know this contract to be worthless and we openly
denounce casualisation even as we fight to defend our casual contracts.
We are forced to fight for something we don't want, to defend ourselves
all the while recognizing that we are nothing. Perhaps this if anything
is a clue to how the proletariat, in the course of its necessary
struggle against the capitalist class, could discover its own class
existence as a limit to overcome, and thus abolish capital and class.
At the same time the most important issue of all, that which
mobilized the most people, was the question of the dole. And to this
extent we can see how our actual working conditions were less
significant than the contiguous interchange between work and the dole.
In this sense we were fighting less as a category of workers defending
its place in the wage-system than as separate workers defending the
foundations of their separation: the dole as facilitator of their
interchangeability as casuals. The dole has become the constant
mediation between casual jobs, rendering the distinction between the
active and reserve army of labour unclear as the hiring and firing of
workers becomes sufficient to the immediate demands of capital; the
flexibilization of work making the 'active' army itself a reserve, a
constant potential to be exploited elsewhere whenever the need arises.
In this context the struggle over the dole is automatically a workers'
struggle in an immediate sense; the dole is the equivalent which
underlies all the wages we receive. When the question of the dole was
settled the strike lost its momentum. To what extent the capitalist
class can continue to arrive at such easy settlements in a world where
mass-unemployment/casualisation coincides with the necessary reduction
in welfare spending remains to be seen.
This text is an account of one week of strikes among casual workers
in schools in Marseilles, within the context of a small movement of
casual workers in education. In the introduction I try to explain the
public services in France, their casualisation, and the role of casual
labour within education. In the conclusion I give a few brief
assessments of the central features of the struggle and its internal
contradictions.

