I’m parachuted in Kolwezi to follow the ongoing social elections, the 3-yearly heyday of unionists. I’m attending reunions and rallies, collecting pamphlets and gadgets, and interviewing everyone willing to spare me a moment during this gruelling race for union leadership: branch leaders, candidates as well as the rank and file of the labour movement, and former and future voters. The elections at the mining companies Kamoa Copper and Kamoto Copper Company were over when I arrived, and we discuss the campaign and the results. About 70% of the workers had voted, so it appears; enthusiasm was wearing thin. The elections at Mutanda Mining, or MUMI in short, are next in line, and I’m closely following the campaigns.
The current elections coincide with the World Cup, the 4-yearly heyday of football fans, way above 70% of Congo’s population, I would say. As the country’s team has not entered the Cup since the defeat of the Léopards in 1978 – a one-time only but bittersweet experience in any event – the Congolese usually support one of the African teams. While I chat with unionists and discuss their campaign, one eye is inevitably fixed on a screen showing a match. In fact, TV-less bars that fail to hire a screen or two these days, also fail to attract as much as a single client. Football is all over, and it slips into each conversation too.
“I’m fully into these elections, swallowed by them,” says one branch leader while we share a beer, I just need to do something for the voiceless and the vulnerable. It’s in my nature.” He stalls, takes a sip and then adds – as if to justify his inherent urge – “you see, whenever two teams are playing, I will always support the one that in theory is deemed to lose the game, the weaker team. I just can’t help it.”
While union leaders address a crowd of potential voters, usually somewhere between 30 and 100 heads, tension often rises during the Q&A part. Many workers are deceived by the union delegation, and deplore their poor pay and conditions. The red card, the dugout, the coach, even the video-ref, in short, the whole soccer vocabulary, comes in handy during these interactions. “How come you did such a lousy job during your past mandate,” a rally attendant wants to know, “you were part of the union delegation but what did you bring us?” “Well,” replies the shop steward, a very spirited woman, “we were not the only ones present in the delegation,” shifting the blame to the delegates of competing unions. “And as you all know, even if you have two brilliant players in your football team, if the other nine ones are worthless, the team will not book any result.” “Oh, but this is not the way we see it,” someone in the crowd replies, “when our favourite team is defeated, we do not accuse the keeper or the quarterback, it is the whole team that disappoints us.” A cheering crowd sustains this idea.
A few days later, taken to task by an equally exited crowd, a union leader acknowledges that the former collective agreement was worthless, and that he had signed it nevertheless. “But,” he argues, “we fully take responsibility. We have made a mistake, and deserve a penalty shot,” he says to limit the damage. “And despite this defeat, we will not abandon the field, but play the game until the end.” The day after, yet another union candidate tries to blow some enthusiasm into the assisting crowd and urges the workers to vote, and to vote wisely. “We have arrived at the four minutes additional time now, and the score is 1-0. We desperately need to score a goal right away!”
Using soccer metaphors to illuminate union matters is not a one-way practice, but works the other way round as well. One day I have an appointment in a local bar with a unionist having a longstanding experience hopping from one union to another throughout his career. “Congratulations,” he starts off when he enters, “you Belgians have beaten the Tunisians 5 to 2, well done!” Fully aware that Congolese usually support the African teams, I try to minimize the Red Devil’s solid play by floating the idea that the Tunisians showed some impressive football too. He bursts into laughs. “Playing well is of no importance at all, it is the final result that matters,” he says. “You know, I might be running a smooth campaign at MUMI right now, but if on election day I do not succeed to enter the union delegation, it will be a major defeat. The final result is the only thing that matters.” I have no comment to that.