From grade school on, Americans are encouraged to understand and participate in the democratic process on one level or another, and it is our proud boast that we live in a country where people are free to choose. This may make it hard to understand the undemocratic corners of our society -- to see just how difficult and risky it is to exercise choice in some situations. A recent union representation election at a videotape factory provides an excellent case in point. PNS associate editor David Bacon writes on immigration and labor issues.

San Leandro -- Imagine an election in which the incumbent has the power to deprive some voters of their livelihood if they vote "wrong" and can reward to those who vote "right."

It can happen here -- and does. Consider the story of the Mediacopy, which produces video copies of first-run movies. Their plant in this town across the bay from San Francisco has 700 workers. Over a year ago, the vast majority of them signed cards saying they wanted to be represented by a union early in 1996, which is the first step required by law in organizing a plant.

Many of those who signed were angry because the company had recently brought hundreds of employees into the plant cafeteria -- where agents of the Immigration and Naturalization Service were waiting for them. On that day, 99 workers were arrested and deported.

One supervisor was so cooperative he went to look for any workers who might be hiding among the machines. He turned in a woman who was crying for fear that she would be taken from her children.

Within a week, the company had engaged a consulting firm, Strategic Human Relations Services, to mastermind an anti-union campaign, and hired a "public relations" man who was offering reporters tours of the factory.

Soon, the company was holding meetings in the plant during the workday -- "captive audience meetings" is the legal term -- where workers were shown videos of violent strikes. "We were told the company would never sign a contract," recalls a worker who asked not to be identified for fear of retaliation. "Then they told us they would replace us if there was a strike -- they wanted us to feel our jobs were at risk."

Two months before the union election, company supervisors began to meet with workers one-on-one. The firm also began selective raises. According to Alfredo Flotte, an organizer for Local 6 of the International Longshoremen's and Warehousemen's Union (ILWU) some workers received increases of more than $2 an hour, in a plant where wages hover around $5 or $6 an hour.

At the same time, Mediacopy called in more than 100 employees, some with many years' seniority, and told them they would have to reapply for their jobs through one of two local temporary agencies. The agencies would send them back to their old jobs -- but they would no longer be Medicacopy employees, and as temps they could lose those jobs if the agency decided not to use them.

The names of these workers were omitted from the list of t hose eligible to vote in the election -- a list Mediacopy must provide to the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB). When they came to vote anyway, the company challenged their right to cast a ballot.

A month before the election, Mediacopy told workers the INS had asked for documentation demonstrating their status of 100 more workers.While all these moves continued inside the factory, union representatives were not allowed into the plant at all. Organizers and supporting workers had to stand at the gate, passing out leaflets as guards watched -- even videotaping them on one occasion.

The election was held at the end of March. Under the circumstances, the only surprise is that nearly 200 of the 500 who cast a vote still had the courage to vote in favor of the union. Final results were 306 against the union, 197 for.

The union has complained to the NLRB, charging the company with violating workers' rights, but the board does not act swiftly. Its investigators are still taking statements, and no hearing is planned for some months. If a hearing officer finds that workers were fired illegally, the maximum penalty involves laying back wages -- less any money the worker has received for unemployment or in another job.

And if the board finds the election itself was marked by illegal intimidation, it will simply order another one -- and the whole process will start again.

This grim story of the legal road to joining a union echoes the experience of workers at the Rubberstampede factory, which produces novelty rubber stamps, in Oakland, a few miles away. Six months after their failed election, plant employees (including some who had voted against the union) went out on strike, complaining of continuing mistreatment and broken promises. The union helped rally support, and after four months they achieved what they could not in an election under current conditions -- a union contract.

Rubberstampede owner Sam Katzen fired a consultant who advised a scorched earth fight against the union, and signed the contract, commenting, "This is a win-win situation. I'm happy with the contract and I expect the union and the company are going to work together well."

Mediacopy may have "won" the election in its San Leandro plant, but the legacy of bitterness will continue for a long, long time.