U.M.W. Strife--Again

Leaders of United Mine Workers locals in northeastern Pennsylvania expected only a routine discussion of union business when they gathered in Hazleton at the end of last month. Instead, they witnessed a boiling confrontation between Union President Arnold Miller and Vice President Mike Trbovich. "This union is on the verge of financial disaster!" shouted Trbovich. "Our money and our future are being squandered by Arnold Miller's mismanagement!" Jumping to the mike, Miller snapped back: "That's a damn lie and you know it!" An hour later, Miller suspended Trbovich from the vice presidency, ostensibly for failing to launch an investigation of union organizing programs in the West.

Friends Desert. The showdown reflected a fierce internal power struggle that, in the words of U.M.W. Secretary-Treasurer Harry Patrick, "is tearing our union apart." The battle between Miller and Trbovich--and Miller and a majority of the U.M.W.'s 21-member executive board--has paralyzed union leadership, and threatens to erode the reforms that are turning the once corrupt and authoritarian U.M.W. into a progressive labor organization.

The trouble began in 1974, two years after Miller's insurgent election victory over W.A. ("Tony") Boyle, who is now serving a life sentence for conspiracy to murder U.M.W. Reformer Joseph ("Jock") Yablonski. After his win, Miller purged the entire Boyle-appointed executive board. To his dismay, the new board turned out to be dominated by Boyle cronies, elected by the rank and file because they were better known than Miller's men. In addition, four board members endorsed by Miller deserted their sponsor, charging him with mismanagement. Finally Trbovich, Miller's reform-minded running mate, left the fold to lead the opposition. The charges against Miller: that his staff is dominated by "leftwing radicals from New York and Boston," that excessive--and illegal--spending by Miller is plunging the union into the red, and that he is a poor administrator.

The opposition has succeeded in bedeviling the tolerant and administratively naive Miller, who never ran anything bigger than a 200-man local before taking over the 250,000-member U.M.W. Taking advantage of Miller's inexperience--and reluctance to use a gavel in meetings--his rivals turn board sessions into parliamentary pandemonium, quarreling, shouting and, during a recent budget debate, nearly coming to blows with Miller supporters. "The meetings are a goddam circus," says Miller.

In a 14-day debate on Miller's proposed $14 million budget--the first in U.M.W. history--the board slashed $2 million, accusing Miller of deficit spending. Miller insists that expenditures will be covered by dues collections and investment income--and points out that the U.M.W. is one of the richest unions in the U.S. It has $85 million in assets, including ownership of the third largest bank in Washington, D.C.

What disturbs Miller most about the opposition is its chilling effect on his campaign to reform the U.M.W. In four years, the curt, pasty-faced Miller, a 22-year veteran of the mines and a victim of black-lung disease, has accomplished a lot. In 1974 he negotiated the richest contract in U.M.W. history, providing miners a 54% wage-and-benefit increase over three years. He has given members the right to elect board members and district officers, increased the union's safety staff, and lobbied toward passage in Congress a bill liberalizing compensation for black-lung sufferers.

Now the opposition has sliced away one-third of the U.M.W. appropriation for organizing and political action. Trbo-vich's charge that money is being misspent touched off a five-month audit of U.M.W. books by the Department of Labor. Though it is unfinished, the audit, according to department sources, should give the union a clean bill of health. The allegations, though, are one reason that the U.M.W. lost a recent organizing drive in Bell County, Ky. Says Miller:

"The coal company was handing out statements by our own leaders saying the union is going bust."

The poisoned atmosphere is even reviving the specter of union violence. Fearing attack, Miller recently gave up his Washington home to seclude himself in an apartment in Alexandria, Va. When traveling into opposition strongholds, he says he packs a Smith & Wesson .38 automatic under his left shoulder. Trbovich says he was clubbed over the head recently while entering the Burlington Hotel in Washington; in Hazleton last month, he stayed behind a bolted door in an isolated wing of a motel. The power struggle will probably not be resolved until the next U.M.W. presidential election in December 1977--unless it is settled by violence first.

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