Whether liberal or conservative, governments worldwide have embraced the policy of privatization of their ports in the name of enhancing their competitive edge in the global economy. But dockers in many ports are fighting back, nowhere more fiercely than in the ports of Australia. Downunder they call it "the war on the wharfies." PNS associate editor David Bacon is a former labor organizer who writes widely on issues of labor and immigration.

SYDNEY -- For over a month, longshoremen have been fighting a government-backed move to privatize Australia's ports -- the latest target of a world-wide push to slash dockers' wages and eliminate their unions. Downunder they call it "the war on the wharfies."

Whether liberal or conservative, governments worldwide have embraced the policy of privatization and casualization of labor on the docks. Dockers in Liverpool were forced to end their two-year battle to preserve their union this winter. Conservative Prime Minister Maggie Thatcher began busting British dock unions years ago, and the new labor government of Tony Blair has made no move to change her policies.

In New Zealand, a liberal government destroyed wharf unions in the early 1990s. In Mexico, Veracruz was privatized and its union eliminated at gunpoint in 1991, and dockers in Mexico's other ports got the message. Last year Japanese dockworkers temporarily defeated the privatization plans of their government, backed by U.S. trade representatives looking for good investment opportunities for U.S. shippers. Italian and Brazilian longshoremen are battling similar efforts.

The "war on wharfies" erupted here on April 7 when the Patrick Stevedoring Company fired its entire workforce of 2000 dockers, sending in scabs to do their jobs. The company announced it would no longer tolerate a union on its docks. It is seeking to reinstate a system of casual labor, in which dock workers get hired on a daily basis to load and unload ships, with no job security.

Throughout April, pitched battles have raged at the waterside, as longshoremen fought to save their union and their jobs. Thousands of protesters met police and guards armed with clubs and dogs trying to escort scab trucks out of struck terminals. In Brisbane 20 strikers chained themselves to railroad tracks to stop the movement of cargo. Dockers marched on the office of Workplace Relations Minister Peter Rieth, protesting government involvement in mass terminations.

From the beginning the dock union, the Maritime Union of Australia (MUA), accused the government of orchestrating the confrontation. Problems in the ports began when Conservative Prime Minister John Howard was elected two years ago. During his campaign, Howard promised employers, especially corporate farmers in the National Farmers Federation, that, if elected, he would break the MUA.

Over half of Australia's exports consist of produce, livestock and agricultural goods. Lower wages on the docks, and cheaper shipping would boost the profits on that trade. It was the power of the union, argued Howard and his backers, that stood in the way of boosting productivity and cutting labor costs.

"This whole struggle has come about because we have a government committed to increasing the competitiveness of Australian business by reducing the standard of living of Australian workers," says John Coombs, MUA president. "To do this, they need to rewrite our labor laws and break our unions. The MUA is the first in line."

After taking office, Conservatives first outlawed primary boycotts and solidarity picketing. Then last year the government attempted to train soldiers to unload ships in the Persian Gulf port of Dubai, setting off concerns they were planning to use them as strikebreakers in future conflicts. The scheme was stopped by warnings from the International Transport Federation, which told the government that ships loaded by soldiers wouldn't get unloaded by dockers in other countries.

Then Patrick made its decision in April to terminate its workforce and eliminate dock unions. The company was emboldened by open government support. Howard publicly budgeted $250 million to pay the cost of mass terminations. Government ministers called on police to protect scabs and argued that the firings were not only legal, but in the country's best interest.

Under the Conservatives' new labor code, picket lines were prohibited, and injunctions against the union multiplied. But workers from other unions, and even other countries, defied bans on solidarity action and stepped into the places of MUA strikers. Meanwhile, more than 11,000 huge containers, holding 30,000 tons of cargo, sat stranded on the Melbourne and Sydney docks.

On May 4, the county's High Court declared the terminations illegal, and ordered the workers reinstated. The government, however, has indicated that Patrick doesn't have to re-hire anyone. Dockers have no illusions the conflict is at an end, since the government and the policies which led to the confrontation are still in place.

U.S. dockworkers fear this war will hit the U.S. "If the wharfies lose their fight, companies will move onto other countries in Europe and the United States," says Brian McWilliams, president of the International Longshore and Warehouse Union, the union for Pacific Coast longshore workers in the U.S.

Within hours of the firing by Patrick Stevedoring, McWilliams and seven ILWU union leaders were arrested at Australia's San Francisco consulate, as dozens picketed outside. Dockers are not fighting trade, McWilliams makes clear, they live from it. They're fighting the vision of a world in which giant conglomerates dictate economic direction to country after country, while workers beg for jobs every morning at the curbside. To millions of workers, this global vision seems more like a nightmare.