All’s quiet on the industrial relations front

The labour-relations architecture... grew bloated and problematic during the bubble years, gorging on its own self-importance... Now, however, it seems to be back doing what it does best — bridging divides, keeping the peace, while acknowledging the state we’re in.

LAST Saturday, as the Angelus tolled, I thought a scoop had landed in my lap. On entering a cheap-and-cheerful restaurant on Dublin’s northside, I saw a familiar, bearded figure tucking into a feed. The realisation that it was none other than Kieran Mulvey hit me like a freight train.

Mulvey is the chief executive of the Labour Relations Commission.

Last weekend, he was supposed to be in the throes of saving the universe from major industrial unrest.

Yet, here he was, like Flash Gordon without a spaceship, engaged in the earthly pursuit of grabbing a bite to eat, while the world was about to be attacked by the deadly forces of widespread strikes.

Hold the front page. Flash has left the universe to its own devices.

Further, calmer consideration led me to conclude that the fella was just taking a break from the marathon talks that persisted through last weekend and into Monday. Mulvey was overseeing the talks, which were aimed at averting confrontation after a majority of union members rejected the Croke Park II agreement. That agreement was designed to save €300m per annum.

Prior to his intervention, the impasse looked likely to develop into the most serious political issue to hit this government. A majority of unions, and the vast majority of union members, had rejected the proposals. War cries were emerging from the various sectors.

Tough guys in Fine Gael were girding their loins, aspiring to Thatcherite notions of taking on the unions. The prospect of legislating for pay cuts in the public sector was producing nightmares among Labour party TDs, who were already battered and bruised. Industrial peace, a much underrated achievement of recent years, was about to end, creating fears that the world might see images that would relegate the country to basket-case status.

At such a juncture, every universe needs a Flash Gordon.

Not for the first time, Mulvey stepped forward, stuck out his chin, swept back his cape, and declared: ‘Let’s talk.’

The manner in which the last-minute talks were conducted last week was in-keeping with a trend developed over the 25 years of social partnership.

Morose heads are filmed entering the building, as reporters step forward to thrust microphones under their noses. “Will we have peace in our time?”

The participants offer answers full of dark pessimism, but carefully conclude their contributions by letting in a chink of hopeful light.

Then, as a new day dawns on the benighted nation, white smoke emerges just in time to save the universe and make it onto the morning news headlines.

A deal, a deal, thank God almighty, we have a deal.

The achievement that Mulvey oversaw this past week should not be underestimated. Before he commenced the talks, the smart money said he hadn’t a prayer of bridging a gaping divide between unions and the Government. Yet Mulvey and his team made serious progress, and found the rare material required to close the gap.

In all likelihood, there will be a strike or two in the coming months. Word has it that the nurses’ union, in particular, is not for shifting. There may also be a problem with some of the teaching organisations.

But it now looks unlikely that there will be major industrial unrest. Mulvey and his team have convinced most of the unions that their best option is to stay within the tent.

If any were in doubt as to the future outside the tent, the two-day Bus Éireann strike provided some crystal-ball gazing. The strike didn’t garner any public support. There was no indication that management at the loss-making company were willing to capitulate once the buses parked up. And each day that passed meant another with no pay, at a time when most people are put to the pin of their collar.

Of course, sacrifices are a staple of any strike, but large-scale strike action has been slumbering in the public-service unions through the decades of social partnership, and now, of all times, there appears to be little stomach for a fight. (To be fair to the strikers, it now looks like management were taking the proverbial — lumping all sacrifices onto the workers, while they protected their own fat wallets) Notably, the Bus Éireann dispute was also referred to Mulvey’s domain, where it got sorted out after another few days of marathon talks, ending in the cold light of Thursday morning.

Flash Gordon, it would appear, can multi-task with the best of them. Beyond the choreography, and the spotlight, relative industrial peace is a serious achievement right now. The deep recession has left legions strapped, bereft and angry. Frequently, suggestions are made that the country is a powder keg, waiting to explode.

This sentiment has been tapped into — some would say exploited — by both wings of the political spectrum. On the Left, there have been campaigns against the household charge, and the property tax, designed to spark off social unrest that might change the course of the country. So far, for a variety of reasons, these efforts have failed.

A far more likely torch paper would be widespread industrial unrest. That could, quite easily, lead to social unrest, with the attendant upheaval that those on the Left believe is required. So far, that has not happened and the central body-politic must view the result as the major prize of industrial peace.

At the other end of the political spectrum, there are those who would relish a confrontation between government and the public-sector unions. This body of opinion believes the public sector is the root of all economic evil.

They want blood on the carpet, in the belief that this will lead to a better country, where unions are banished like snakes. Such a confrontation may suit some, but it would hardly be in the best interests of most in a society that is just about holding everything together.

In such an environment, people like Mulvey are playing a vital role. The labour-relations architecture was integral to the social-partnership model that grew bloated and problematic during the bubble years, gorging on its own self-importance, like so many other arms of the State.

Now, however, it seems to be back doing what it does best — bridging divides, keeping the peace, while acknowledging the state we’re in.

Last week’s result suggests that Mulvey is at his best in the white heat of such a last-minute, desperate bid to save the nation from industrial unrest.

Maybe it says something about Irish society that one of the emerging leaders is not somebody who can make so-called tough decisions, or a person who can ‘ feel pain’, but a man who dispenses a little something for everybody at the negotiating table.