How a union man kept things on the rails

HIS adversaries have called him the most powerful man in public transport and union heavyweight Nick Lewocki is happy to accept the description, whether it is meant as a compliment or an accusation.

''It is more perception than reality,'' Lewocki, the secretary of the Rail, Tram and Bus Union, says. ''But at times the perception has been useful in getting a better deal for the people I represent.''

Terminating here ... union secretary Nick Lewocki, right, who is retiring after 20 years with the railways, with a commuter at Glenfield, where he began his career.Credit: Wolter Peeters

This week Lewocki will announce he plans to retire by the end of year - a concession to his health, plagued in recent years by heart problems.

But Lewocki, 62, who has led the 15,000-strong union since 1996, is leaving with a swipe - more in sorrow than anger - at the NSW Government. Its actions, particularly over the past decade, have tested his patience as ''a loyal Labor man''.

''There's nothing wrong with the Labor Party,'' he insists. ''It's some of the bastards we got in there [the Parliament] that are the problem.''

Lewocki is proud to be old-school Labor, a unionist who came off the shop floor. He worked almost 20 years in the railways, beginning as a station attendant at Glenfield in 1962, and later as assistant station master at Guildford, before joining the Australian Railways Union (which became the RTBU) as an organiser in 1979. If he had any power, he insists it flowed from the solidarity of his members. Ninety-five per cent of RailCorp workers belong to the union.

''People in the Government knew I was prepared to have a fight,'' he said. ''I was a loyal Labor man but my members would always come before the party. They expected their union to be militant enough to defend their jobs.''

But old-school does not mean ''union dinosaur'' and Lewocki was acutely aware of the need to keep the public on side during disputes. It is one of reasons there has not been a full-scale train strike in 10 years.

Instead, Lewocki used bans on collecting fares - always popular with commuters - and direct campaigning.

He turned the Government's attempt to cut staff on stations into a campaign to protect the safety of late-night passengers. ''We have worked to earn public support and, to an extent, we have exploited it, but not in a dishonest way.''

But Lewocki admits that, in July last year, a decade's worth of good public relations almost unravelled when his members - seeking a pay rise above the 2.5 per cent ceiling the former treasurer Michael Costa had imposed on the public sector - voted to strike during World Youth Day. ''To be honest, I was very worried about how it might be perceived by the public,'' he confessed.

The former deputy premier John Watkins ultimately played peacemaker, averting the strike, but relations between the Government and the union have never fully recovered.

Lewocki's greatest strength was that he never wanted anything for himself from the Government. He could not be bought off with offers of a Labor seat in the Senate or the NSW Legislative Council.

He retires with two recent victories. He helped scupper legislation that would allow the Government to rip up the state's rail tracks - ''not a very Labor move'' - and he has succeeded in getting the Government to build, finally, a south-west rail link, beginning at his first workplace of Glenfield Station.

As to his future, Lewocki is, quite literally, going fishing. ''And,'' he says, '' I'll leave my bloody mobile phone at home.''