'Just Say No to PepsiCo': So Say 101 Indian workers. By Vijay Prashad One hundred million people and sixty million cattle in India are in the midst of a crippling drought. The states of Gujarat, Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Orissa and Andhra Pradesh have been hit with poor monsoon rain. According to the Union Minister of State for Heavy Industries and Public Enterprises, the onus for the drought, however, falls on 'administrative failure.' Although the government anticipated the drought in September 1999, it did not procure fodder for the people and livestock, nor did it construct pipelines to draw water to the region. The impact has been colossal. Sureshwar Sinha of Pani Morcha (Water Front) concluded that 'we owe the drought to the government's disastrous policy during the past 50 years, when 100 dams and canals were built. There is evidence to show that as much as 55 percent of this water goes waste through evaporation and other means.' Strong words. If the people cannot get water, they can at least ogle Pepsi and Coke bottles. Government water tankers visit the villages once in a fortnight, and distribute a few liters of water per head. But the bottles of these soft drinks sit before the parched. In most parts of India, Pepsi can be procured for Rs. 9 (23 cents), but here each bottle costs Rs. 16 (30 cents), a price unaffordable for the people. The government relief works project currently pays Rs 23 (53 cents) per day, enough for one bottle of the good stuff. Let them drink Pepsi. Meanwhile, in the outskirts of Kanpur, far from the drought, 101 workers at a Pepsi bottling plant (50,000 crates/month, with 24 bottles per crate) learnt the real meaning of April Fool's Day. Since 1995, these workers belonged to a rightist union, Bharatiya Mazdoor Sangh (BMS) who secured for them wages to the tune of Rs. 2300-Rs. 3000 ($76) per month, just about above the minimum wage. These are not uneducated workers who have no recourse to some forms of cultural capital. The young people who hold jobs at the plant are highly educated (B. Sc.), and many come from Dalit (socially oppressed) communities who yearn to lift themselves from poverty. But the wages are far too low for that aspiration. So what does a work force do when confronted by a rapacious multinational empire and a reluctant rightist trade union? Well, scuttle their ties to the Right and join the Communist union, the Centre of Indian Trade Unions (CITU). This is just what the workers did in January of this year. On 2 February, the management of the Pepsi plant fired the Union president R. P. Singh and its Joint Secretary Chauhan on the grounds of sabotage. At the time of the alleged sabotage, Singh was not on duty and Chauhan was in another part of the factory. But who worries about details. An inquiry began which was to end in mid-March. By late March, the union was tired of the management's silence, so it threatened a one-day token strike on 30 March. Caught in deadlock, the management chose April Fool's Day to lock out the workers from the plant. I'm not sure about you, but I felt a sense of d vu when I heard this story. My clippings are reasonably good, so I went and located my notes on a September 1997 action taken by a Pepsi bottling plant in Guatemala City which fired 28 unionists when the union submitted a contract that management did not want to stomach. The Embotelladora Mariposa, S. A., illegally went after its three-year-old union, SITRAEMSA who represented 360 of the 1300 employees at the plant. Shortly after the firing, the management hired 75 new workers on a temporary basis, eager to ward off the possibility of strong bargaining by the workers. Pepsico is a giant concern. In 1998, its revenues totaled $22,348 million, with profits of $1,993 million. Coca-Cola is reasonably smaller, with revenues of $18,813 million and profits of $3,533 (according to the US Business Reporter). Pepsi is much larger not because itUs a better drink, but because the empire includes the Frito-Lay company (Lay's, Ruffles, Tostitos, Doritos, Cheetos, Rold Gold, and Sunchips), Pepsi/Lipton and a vast number of fast food delivery services (like KFC). With stagnation in the domestic market and with the possibilities opened up by IMF/WTO imperialism, firms like Pepsico are on the lookout to make the bulk of their profits in the international market. Soft drugs of all kinds (tobacco, candy, and soft drinks) are to flood those markets that have hitherto been saved from the advance guard of the dentist. India, which had expelled Coke in the 1970s, welcomed the soft drinks into the country when it signed onto the Structural Adjustment 'reforms' in 1991. The priorities of countries like India are now topsy-turvy: the regimes are now more eager to pander to the wiles of the multinational empires than to the basic needs of their populace. A drought for the masses is better than a drought of foreign exchange. In the former disgruntled voters die, but in the latter one cannot have the funds to buy all the military hardware necessary to become a 'credible' nuclear force. By the way, French aircraft that is so coveted by the hawks within the Indian Defense Ministry is called the Mirage. In the past decade, Pepsi has been in the media for all manners of abuses. The fracas over Pepsi's role in Myanmar is not over yet. Their halfway pullout in April 1996 (prior to a shareholder meeting) was a sham. At the same time, Pepsi was obdurate about buying sweeteners from the Staley plant within the war-zone of Decatur, this despite a boycott urged by the workers of the sugar plant. The role of the soft drink giants in educational institutions began in the early 1990s and continues into our decade. At Penn State Pepsi signed a $14 million contract in 1993 to be the campus monopoly. The Monty Python Society held a Coke-In with such great lines as 'don't let a man in a suit tell you what to drink!' Meanwhile, Cynthia Peters noted that Pepsi has entered a war with Coke over school turf, wanting to pay public schools for exclusive rights to market their product (ZNET Daily Commentary, 23 August 1999). Billboards on the yellow school bus, screen savers on the library computers. Welcome to Pepsi, USA. On May Day, the Pepsi plant in the outskirts of Kanpur sent a letter to each worker asking them to sign an undertaking against the union or else they shall not see their February wages or the inside of the factory again. 'The management has refused to attend any further talks called by the Labour Department,' said Subhashini Ali of CITU. 'They are bent on breaking the union and forcing the workers to crawl back to work.' With the newspapers enthralled by Pepsi's advertising power, there is little being reported about this struggle -- a small struggle by Indian standards, but large for those who are in the midst of it. Well I suppose it isn't small if one consider that one of the participants is Pepsi -- mammon by any other name. Donations towards the union struggle (and toward a common strike kitchen for the workers and their families) can be sent directly to Subhashini Ali, who can be contacted at subhashini_ali@yahoo.com, or to me, at gherao@yahoo.com.