Donald Trump has a choice to make on the unions

The future of the American labour movement is in the balance

“Eight-hour day and no cut in pay” was the chant that rang out at America’s first May Day protests in 1886. Three-hundred-thousand workers went on strike, culminating in riots, a bombing, police deaths and public hangings.

Today’s planned protests across the US’s big cities will be of a very different nature but will still amount to a major modern-day display of union-led resistance to the presidency of Donald Trump.

Yet no one should imagine it reflects unity within what remains of organised labour. American labour stands divided. Some leaders view the new administration as a potentially fatal foe; others are welcomed into the Oval Office and leave proclaiming that Mr Trump represents a “new day for America’s working class”.

This is a schism that broadly pits traditional “hard-hat” building, energy and steel sectors against the more gender-balanced and racially diverse service unions in the public and private sectors. How this tension plays out will not only determine the fate of the American labour movement. It will also force a choice that will reveal something significant about the president: does he want to destroy, or merely divide, America’s unions?

This conundrum arises due to the long-term decline of unions and Mr Trump’s success in last year’s presidential election in appealing to blue-collar voters. Those labour leaders now feting Mr Trump, like those of several construction unions, are drawn to his stance on trade and infrastructure. Having endorsed Hillary Clinton at the election, they are keen, too, to repair relations with their own Trump-backing rank and file.

The president received fewer union votes than his Democrat rival but he made strides in closing the gap, trailing by just 8 points (the gap was 18 per cent in 2012). It was the strongest Republican performance among union members since Ronald Reagan in 1984, which itself was only bettered in modern times by Richard Nixon, winner of an outright union majority, whose blend of nationalism and nostalgia Mr Trump channels.

This fault line within organised labour would be treacherous to navigate in good times — and these are very dark days for unions. Membership has fallen to around 10 per cent of the workforce from almost one in three workers in 1960. Just 5 per cent of workers across the American south are members, and in states like South Carolina unions are virtually extinct.

The recent decline is all the more dispiriting for labour advocates as it has continued amid policy successes and a pro-union shift in public opinion. Many believe we are living through the slow but inexorable death of 20th-century unionism, as it is hollowed out by economic shifts and exposed by a political climate offering more rain from Republicans than sunshine from Democrats.

Given this backdrop, does Mr Trump succumb to pressure for an all-out assault on unions or solidify the backing of those favourable to him, ending once and for all the Democrats’ near monopoly of support?

Economics, not identity, is key to reviving American liberalism Democrats ought to focus on voters’ concerns about wage stagnation and job insecurity Aggression may seem like the natural choice. It rolls along with elite Republican party sentiment and the demands of big corporate money. It would mean backing the anti-union legislation that will probably emerge from a Republican Congress, potentially in the form of a so-called national right-to-work bill, allowing any employee to opt out of paying dues in a unionised workplace. This, or a related forthcoming Supreme Court judgment, could deliver unions a near-fatal blow.

It would, however, come at a price. Trump-friendly police and construction unions would turn on the White House and the president’s blue-collar pretensions would take another hit.

The alternative is to opt for permanent division. There is no risk of a Trump administration being “pro-union” but some believe he might be willing to leave federal law alone, permitting states to make their own choices. The shift in Mr Trump’s choice for labour secretary from a fast-food tycoon known to be hostile to unions, to the more emollient figure of Alexander Acosta fits with this view. It also chimes with the president’s cocktail of “America First” nationalism, Twitter tirades against job-shredding executives and pro-infrastructure rhetoric, which all help maintain standing with his favoured wing of industrial labour. How this strategy fares when manufacturing jobs fail to return remains to be seen. But Mr Trump’s erratic first 100 days have done little to dent his appeal.

Avoiding all-out conflict in order to sustain the current split in union ranks would have implications for the Democrats too. It would strengthen those arguing that a new Democrat majority will have to be crafted without the votes of conservative-minded Rust Belt voters who switched to Mr Trump. Such a realignment would represent a huge prize for the president.

This May Day, unlike that of 1886, America’s unions will not be involved in an uprising, but they do find themselves at a critical, and curious, juncture. Politically relevant but economically weak. Courted yet vulnerable. Culturally divided but united by fear of legislative assault. The choices that Mr Trump — and they — make matter greatly. For American workers, yes, but also for the future electoral strategy of America’s two political parties.

This article first appeared in the FT.