Industrial Workers of the World

Sydney, 2007- Laughter reigns in court when two members of the Tranny Cops, a cross-dressing outfit of women who lampoon riot police, face court on charges of “impersonating police” at a recent protest against US Vice President Dick Cheney. When the Magistrate David Helipern is presented with the women’s outfits, which feature an anarchy symbol and the words “Cop It Sweet”, he begins to giggle.

When a second witness, APEC Security Command’s Sergeant Ian Franke, admits that the women’s sideburns, moustaches and goatees were clearly made of ink the prosecution’s case further unravels with more laughter greeting his description of the Tranny cops routines as including “Placing their thumbs inside their belts and rocking back and forth in a heel-toe manner.”

Helipern finally dismisses the case after no one outside of the police force can be produced to vouch for the fact that the Tranny cops were directing traffic away from the protest. Summing up his decision the magistrate declares that there is a “Village People style defence” for wearing a police uniform citing the Sisters Of Perpetual Indulgence as another example of the legitimate lampooning of authority.

Melbourne, 1969

- Sick and tired of government and union foot dragging over equal pay for women Zelda D’Aprano decides to chain herself to the Commonwealth Building in Spring Street, Melbourne. In her autobiography, Zelda: the Becoming of a Woman, she recalls: “[Diane Ronberg, secretary of the Insurance Staff Federation and I] both agreed that something more than just talking was needed to draw attention to the pay injustice meted out to women and more positive action was required.

We began to fantasise women chaining themselves up like the suffragettes did and jokingly asked ourselves where women could chain themselves to make their protest effective. I began to think seriously of the chaining-up idea, then decided I would be prepared to chain myself to the Commonwealth Building as part of the Victorian Employed Women's Organisation Council (VEWOC) demonstration. Little did I realise the effect this event would have in changing the entire course of my life.

I felt that the Commonwealth government should set the example by giving equal pay to women in government employment and, after assuring Dianne that I was serious in my intent, she became excited and undertook to contact Don McSwan, the elderly secretary of the Garment Workers’ Union. He had played a main role in establishing VEWOC, but he was shocked by the suggestion. He didn’t think the chain-up was necessary or wise, so I decided to do it as an individual, but requested moral support from other women.

The day of the meeting at the city square had arrived — 21 October 1969. I had already spent several lunch hours distributing leaflets advertising the meeting and again I went with several other women and distributed leaflets. After the leaflet hand-out, I made my way to the city square and the number of speakers had been reduced to two women. It was almost impossible to hear them because of the traffic noise and, although the press, radio and television had been notified of the meeting, they were not present.

However, when they were told to be at the Commonwealth Building at 2 pm they all turned up. I had planned the entire strategy for the event. The door system had to be examined in order to determine how much chain would be required. Then, having done this, I asked the late Jim Donogan, the then secretary of the Painters’ and Dockers’ Union, if he could get me some chain. I explained the purpose for which the chain was needed and Jim said he would be glad to oblige, but on the condition that I refrained from revealing the source from which it was obtained. I agreed for I had already priced chain and it was very expensive. I simply purchased the locks.

I felt strongly about the need for women to begin fighting their own battles. The placards were all ready for the event and I refrained from eating or drinking for several hours prior to the chain-up as it would be embarrassing to find that I needed to go to the toilet while still in the chains. Following the meeting at the city square, several of the women accompanied me to the Commonwealth Building where, within seconds, I was chained across the doors.

The other women walked up and down with the placards which called upon the government to grant women equal pay. I did not know how long I would be there; I was very nervous, but it had to be done and I was prepared for anything. A Justice of the Peace was already lined up in case of arrest. The press, radio and TV arrived and it was on.

They asked why I was protesting in this manner and what I hoped to gain from this demonstration. I explained that I was protesting against the injustice done to women over the right to equal pay and, when asked how I felt about being the only woman prepared to do this, I told them that today it was me, tomorrow there would be two, then four women, and it would go on until all women were demanding their rights. They asked ridiculous questions like “Do you now feel like Mrs Pankhurst?” and such, but I made light of these inane questions.

I explained why the Commonwealth Building was selected and they then asked where I got the chain from. It was a very heavy chain and with a smile I stated that it was donated by an all-male union, which was not a lie, but refused to name the union. The entire building became a mass of faces at the windows when they learnt of what was taking place. I had given the keys from the locks to another woman and, after some time had passed, she went off to purchase some sandwiches.

It was during her absence that the Commonwealth police arrived and ordered me to unlock myself. I refused to do so. They again told me to unlock myself and again I said I did not have the keys, which in fact was true. The building warden stepped forward and read a meaningless script to me. The police then cut the chain with a pair of bolt cutters. I was amazed how easily the bolt cutters snipped through the thick chain, it was as if they were cutting paper. I returned to work and ate my sandwiches on the way.

I trembled for several hours after my ordeal and gradually regained my calm. The press, radio and TV featured the event, however, the press distorted what was said during the interview. I was convinced that genteel meetings at the city square would never achieve anything. Women would have to fight for what they wanted.”

Melbourne, 1969- Ten days after her first groundbreaking direct action for women’s equal pay Zelda D’Aprano links up with two other women to chain themselves to the doors of the Arbitration Court. Sadly much of the union movement, supposedly radical or otherwise, refuses to help out as DiAprano recalls in her autobiography, Zelda: the Becoming of a Woman: “The next day [after the first action], Sharon, a young woman who worked in the office of the Drink Workers’ Union, called in at our office and eagerly displayed her support.

She was most anxious to participate in any similar action which might be held in the future. I received a phone call from Alva Giekie, a woman congratulating me on my courage and requesting to be brought in on any further chain-ups. She also had a friend who might come along, so we arranged to meet to discuss the issue. Alva was very enthusiastic to get into action and we decided to chain ourselves across the doors of the Arbitration Court, the institution which refused to grant women equal pay for work of equal value.

Alva’s friend, Thelma Solomon, was a willing participant, but they were both schoolteachers and it was difficult for them to take time off from school for a demonstration. There was a dispute pending within the teaching service, and a stop-work of teachers was possible. We decided to wait for the outcome. Meanwhile, I went and examined the door system at the Arbitration Court to determine how much chain was required, and where the chain would have to go.

I made various enquiries in my search for chain and was able to obtain some from the Builders Labourers’ Union. I purchased more locks and all was set to go if the teachers went on strike. Alva was so keen that she suggested we carry out the chain-up strike or no strike, but I realised there would be media publicity and both Alva and Thelma would be in strife. Alva, having had no previous experience of the media, thought if we asked them to refrain from photographing her and Thelma, then all would be well.

I explained that this wasn’t possible and they could not risk such action. The teachers’ strike was planned for the Friday, but it would not be known until the Thursday evening’s negotiations if the strike was on or off, so we had to wait for the late news Thursday night before we could act. I listened to the news and negotiations had broken down so the strike was on. We had discussed the need for several women to come along with placards and give us moral support, and I undertook the responsibility of getting this support.

The next morning I went to work earlier than necessary, for I did not consider that I could do as I liked while working for the Union. I was ‘Mary Ann’ in the children’s page of the union journal, and did almost all of this page at home where I could apply myself without interruption. I never asked for payment from the union, so a little time in return still put the union in my debt.

My early arrival at the Trades Hall gave me the opportunity of calling in to Jerry, the secretary of the Drink Workers’ Union and my comrade [fellow member of the Communist Party], and I told him about young Sharon and her eagerness to lend support. I asked if she would be able to take one hour off in order to give us some badly needed moral support. Jerry stood there stuttering and stammering ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘She couldn’t possibly go along; after all my Union is a right-wing union you know. If the members saw her there they would want to know what she was doing there.’ He continued to stutter and stammer. ‘Forget it’ I said and walked away.

I then rang the Steelworkers’ Union, another left-wing union, and spoke to one of the organisers about getting some support from a woman. He advised me to ring back and ask Lennie McMichael, the secretary of the union. Lennie was also a comrade and when I rang and explained the situation, he said he would not let a woman go for this purpose.

When I asked for his reasons for refusing, he stated they did not work this way. I tried to explain about the teachers’ strike and why it had to be a last minute decision, but he said ‘The answer is still no.’ There was no one else I could ask for only two of the women comrades had made an approach of support for my stand, but didn’t indicate any interest in activities of this nature. Alva, Thelma and I chained ourselves across the doors of the Arbitration Court on 31 October 1969 without any support from other women.

The media was present and again there were photos and interviews. I suggested that we must not be provoked for it was important to preserve our sense of humour in such situations. There was just sufficient chain to allow the door to open slightly and people had to bend down and crawl in sideways to enter the building. This was so undignified for the ‘important’ people and one commissioner told a union official in the building that he was lucky I didn’t know who he was or I may have wrapped the chain around his neck.

Again there were questions from the media concerning the demonstration and, eventually, we were paid a visit by several Commonwealth policemen, one being the policeman who had cut my chains on the previous occasion. The three of us were asked to undo the locks and leave the building, but we refused to do so. We were again asked and again we refused, until the building warden arrived and we were cut loose. We were lined up like naughty children to stand before the warden as he read his text for the day from his book of legal jargon.

His voice trembled as he read. The experienced chain-cutting cop approached me and said that this was the second occasion on which I had acted in this manner, and he warned me that serious action would be taken against me if I behaved in this manner again. I asked if this only applied to Commonwealth buildings, knowing his jurisdiction full well, and he replied yes. ‘Oh well, there are plenty of state government buildings’ was my reply. We then caught a taxi and I returned to work.”