Ever since militant trade unionism made West Bengal its home in the Sixties, factories have been closing down; as a result, West Bengal has shrunk to insignificance in the industrial landscape of India. Some would blame the violent behaviour of communist trade unionists; others would smell a capitalist conspiracy against West Bengal. Both would be interested to know that Bajaj Auto, one of India’s best known companies, has closed down its two-wheeler factory in Akurdi — the factory where the Bajaj story began in 1960. Akurdi is in the parliamentary constituency of none but Sharad Pawar, the Maharashtra strongman. Unlike in West Bengal, the workers who have been thrown out will be comfortably off: they will continue to get their full salary till the date of retirement, and will not even have to clock in every day. Such is the clout of Bharatiya Kamgar Sena, the Shiv Sena trade union that controls the workers, that the company thought it would be cheaper to pay the workers till the end than to negotiate a retrenchment package with the union. The union has also threatened that it will not allow the plant to be shifted elsewhere, or the land to be used for any other purpose. The Akurdi plant will be a silent monument to militant trade unionism.

Upto this point the story runs parallel to many from West Bengal; but at this point it diverges. Many companies that closed their plants in West Bengal were in financial trouble. Bajaj Auto is not only in the pink of health, but is rapidly expanding production elsewhere. It has set up a very up-to-date plant in Waluj near Aurangabad. The closure of Akurdi is the answer of Bajaj to the political parties that tried to run the plant for them by proxy. The answer is not a suddenly sprung surprise, for the other plant took years to build.

As the demand for scooters fell, the company built up manufacturing capacity for motor cycles; only it did so far away from Akurdi. The savings from getting away from Akurdi are more than enough to pay Akurdi workers lifelong pensions. Bajaj, of course, is too polite to blame the trade union for the closure. Instead, it cites lower taxes and absence of octroi in other locations. But the point, which is relevant to workers in West Bengal, is that they face competition from workers elsewhere; in conditions of competition, aggressive trade unionism can only be a means to a permanent loss of jobs. Even if they realize this, Calcutta trade unionists are hardly likely to close shop. But they could still think of new tactics. They could, for example, promise intending investors freedom from industrial action for ten years. If the government can declare a tax holiday, trade unions might well think of declaring a strike holiday. That would be the day.