Driving north along the dock road in brilliant sunshine, the coach passes a long line of container lorries stalled in front of Seaforth. Grain storage terminals and the big blue cranes of the Mersey Docks and Harbour Company tower behind the gate where a hundred dockers are waiting.
Twenty minutes ago at North Huskisson dock we looked like a party of international tourists, clicking cameras. Then someone spotted a car with James Bradley, the scab whose father began this strike by sacking the 80 “Torside Tigers”. Air hissing out of his tyres, Bradley found himself blocked in. Gerry Quigley from Derry told him to “save up and buy yourself a set of balls” while the Spanish contingent stood in front singing “No, no, no, nos moveran” (We shall not be moved).
Then we marched on Gladstone dock, where coal imports from the US and Columbia have helped the Government attack the miners and dust from the terminal drifts inland over the local community. Liverpool dockers’ faces lit up at the sight of the international contingent. Lars, a Swedish syndicalist, told of collecting for the strike outside the cinema showing “Land and Freedom”. Liverpool dockers went to fight in Spain during the Civil War, the favour is being repaid.
And now at Seaforth the dockers are chanting “the workers, united, will never be defeated” and the Spanish reply “Obreros, unidos, jamas sera vencidos”. Francisco Mellado vows to chain himself to a ship in Bilbao if that’s what it takes to shut down trade with Liverpool.
Mounted police hem us in as we march behind the Swedish banner along the Crosby Road. To our left, the terminals where ACL, CanMar, CAST and the rest of the container trade is loaded and unloaded by scabs. To our right, Daleks on horseback. We pat the horses and scream at the cops, whistles and sirens signalling our power.
At the gates to the Freeport, Women of the Waterfront are shouting, “Dockers In, Scabs Out”. The march halts to form a huge ring, chanting “The Workers United...”. And the women sing “We’ve got the whole world, in our hands...”. Everyone presses forward to the gate.
Ina Heidman from the Maritime Union of Australia is the only woman amongst the international delegation. “As you say in Liverpool, absolutely brilliant. And I know that you’re going to win this victory and when we go home we’re going to make sure that it continues until it is resolved in your favour. Thank you, comrades.”
“These people don’t know what they’ve started”, says her colleague Jim Donavan. “Because what they have started, we’re going to finish. The lads from Australia will make sure that before the day is over, whether it be this day, tomorrow, or the next day, is a victory not only for the Liverpool workers but also all dockers and seafarers the world over.”
Jack Heyman from the ILWU in San Francisco has a message for Bernard Cliff. “For the time being you can load these containers with scabs. But they’re not going to be unloaded in the other ports around the world. And only for the time being because we’re going to come back here in bigger and bigger and bigger numbers until we win this strike.”
Michel Murray of the Dockers Union in Montreal sees “in the eyes of the Liverpool dockers, the young ones and the older ones, in the eyes of their families, the children, that the victory is gonna be soon.” The megaphone packs in. Kevin Robinson explains, “It’s a police one, you’ve got to beat it up first”, and the crowd groans.
Michel carries on, “we already started what we call Operation Liverpool. We don’t have the right to blockade a ship in our country. But we do have the right to fuck it up!!” We all cheer.
Gerry Quigley of the T&GWU in the Six counties (Northern Ireland) has heard that “Mr. Cliff wished to address the delegates. I spoke to my colleagues from Derry. We will meet Mr. Cliff, but I’m afraid he’ll have to come into a square ring, because that’s the only thing this company will respond to. I would like to say to each and every docker, we don’t talk about if you win your strike. We talk about when you win your strike. Victory to the Liverpool dockers. Victory to the working class.”
Ciro Oriljo from the portworkers co-op in Salerno is a cross between football fan and film star. Through the interpreter he claims to be “a man of very few words, which is unusual for an Italian”. Women of the Waterfront shout back, “all action, eh?” Ciro carries on “before now it was maybe only Liverpool football that was known around the world, now it’s the Liverpool dockers that are known around the world”.
Terry Ryan tells us the New Zealand waterfront workers have a saying, “United we Bargain, Divided we Beg. From what I’ve seen here you won’t be doing any begging. It’s gonna be a complete victory. It mightn’t be tomorrow, but it will come because the momentum is gathering all over the world. Stick in there and power to your arm.”
Nico Georgiou announces to wild applause that “solidarity with the Liverpool dockers is put into action and tomorrow we close the port of Piraeus. We phone all the mass media and it will have a big support from other unions as well in Greece. If need be we will spread our support even further. We want you to win, and we believe you are going to win. We are with you.”
Winding up the rally, Kevin Robinson declares, “if capitalism and big business has no boundaries, then trade unionism and struggle and solidarity world wide can have no boundaries. United, we will win.”
As we drift off, Ciro is telling Women of the Waterfront, “when my brothers need me here, I’ll be here, no problem I’ll come”. “Come any time you want, stay for 10 weeks, 20 weeks, live here.” “I’ve already got 3 wives at home.” “And I’ve got 10 husbands.”
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