By Bruce Guthrie
The Grocon dispute caused needless pain to all concerned.
NORM Gallagher, long-time titan of the Builders' Labourers Federation, once compared industrial relations to a visit to the dentist. "It's all about levels of pain," the lifelong Marxist would say. "Just when the dentist is about to put the drill in your mouth you grab him by the privates, look him in the eye, and say: 'Now, we're not going to hurt each other, are we?' "
Workers rally at the Myer site.Credit: Justin McManus
It's unclear who endured more pain in the bitter dispute between Daniel Grollo's Grocon and the Construction, Forestry, Mining and Energy Union, but both sides were certainly badly bruised.
The row at times paralysed central Melbourne and work on the Myer Emporium and other sites, and led to lawsuits, clashes with police, millions of dollars in lost wages and, potentially, fines against the union. All in all, root canal surgery might have been more pleasurable for all involved.
Certainly, the scenes of confrontation between police and building workers invoked memories of Gallagher and his union, which waged industrial warfare on Victorian building sites throughout the 1970s and early 1980s, until a royal commission helped put ''The General'' and his union out of business.
Employers hated Gallagher, but he was a hero to his members and the broader union movement for skilfully forging a group of largely unskilled men into a well-paid, highly effective industrial unit. Many historic Melbourne buildings still stand because of his interventions.
The BLF was a little too effective for the government of Malcolm Fraser, though, which announced the establishment of the Winneke royal commission into the union during the ACTU congress in Sydney in September 1981.
All the reporters wanted a quote from Gallagher; I eventually found him wandering alone in a hallway.
"How are you going, Norm?" I asked. Gallagher, who had an endearing speech impediment and a wry sense of humor, replied: "Well, I'm doing so many dirty deals here I should be getting mud money."
"What's your reaction to this royal commission?" I asked. He replied: "What woyal commission?"
From that moment, Gallagher, and his union went into almost terminal decline. The union boss would ultimately spend time in jail and eventually died at the comparatively young age of 67 in 1999. His once all-powerful union had been deregistered in 1986.
If Gallagher were alive today he would have been quite chuffed by the events of the past fortnight, not least because the CFMEU assistant secretary, John Setka, a former builders' labourer who holds Gallagher in high regard, was at the forefront of the dispute. The BLF boss would have been surprised and probably disappointed, however, that it involved the company that blossomed under the shrewd and pragmatic leadership of Daniel Grollo's father, Bruno.
Indeed, in Gallagher's day, Bruno Grollo's sites tended to be the only ones that did not get caught up in damaging industrial action, because of his preparedness to strike generous agreements with the BLF. Clearly, Daniel Grollo has decided that's not the way he's going to do business.
The dispute was ostensibly about who appoints shop stewards and health and safety officers on Grocon sites. Which means it was ultimately about who controls the sites.
Naturally, the union wants one of its own men, arguing that health and safety should not be left entirely to employers. Just as predictably, Grocon wants anyone other than a union firebrand in its midst. Hence the impasse. Now, following the union's decision to drop its blockades, there will be further negotiations.
As the dispute dragged on, public sympathy was clearly with Grollo. He appeared to have his workforce behind him, and the courts, the government and the police. He's a first-rate media performer as well.
The union appeared to hold few cards, and may come under even more pressure if the Victorian Supreme Court this week finds it in contempt for breach of various orders.
Politically, the dispute tested Workplace Relations Minister Bill Shorten and was a gift for Tony Abbott and the Baillieu government, which moved with great purpose both on the streets and in the courts.
As well it might. Given the construction industry's importance to the state and national economy, the last thing the industry needs is TV news footage of clashes between police and building workers. I hate to think what damage it did to our reputation overseas among investors considering projects in Australia.
When Norm Gallagher was laid to rest 13 years ago, one of his most loyal organisers, Mick Lewis, spoke at his funeral, praising the ability of his former boss to get the union out of some pretty fraught disputes. ''Many times it looked like we had run into a brick wall," Lewis said. "But Norm always had a way round it.''
The CFMEU is a smart, sophisticated union, but it only just avoided its own brick wall. It should have seen it coming much, much earlier.
■Twitter: @brucerguthrie