The Tribune

WORKERS' right to organize is one of the great achievements of modern democracy. Unions have historically fought for fair wages, safer working conditions, reasonable hours, pensions, and benefits that many workers take for granted today. Without unions, countless employees would have remained vulnerable to exploitation by employers with little accountability. That history deserves respect.

But respect for the role of unions does not mean that every action taken in their name should escape scrutiny.

An uncomfortable but necessary question must be asked whenever a nationwide strike or prolonged industrial action threatens to cripple a country: Are unions always acting in the best interests of their members, the nation, or are some decisions influenced more by the ambitions and egos of those leading them?

This is not an attack on organized labour. It’s a call for reflection.

Too many instances have seen negotiations seem less about finding common ground and more about winning at any cost. When grievances escalate into nationwide disruptions, one begins to wonder whether the objective remains to achieve fairness or to demonstrate power. Somewhere between legitimate advocacy and political theatre, the interests of ordinary citizens often become collateral damage.

Every worker deserves fair treatment. Every employer has a responsibility to negotiate in good faith. Governments must also honour commitments and engage sincerely with organized labour. But fairness is a two-way street. Wanting better wages and improved working conditions is understandable; demanding them without regard for the country's economic realities is another matter altogether.

Leadership requires balancing competing interests.

It’s easy to rally supporters by promising to fight until every demand is met. It’s far more difficult to recognize when compromise serves everyone better than confrontation.

What is perhaps most troubling is how quickly entire nations can become bargaining chips.

When transportation stops, schools close, hospitals reduce services, ports cease operations, or government offices grind to a halt, it’s not only employers or governments that suffer. It’s ordinary citizens—people who have no seat at the negotiating table and no influence over the dispute.

The elderly miss medical appointments. Students lose valuable instructional time. Small businesses lose customers and revenue. Families struggle to access essential public services. Tourists rethink their travel plans. Investors begin questioning whether the country is stable enough for future business.

The damage extends far beyond the negotiating room.

Yet these consequences often receive little attention from those calling for industrial action. Instead, the public is repeatedly told that the inconvenience is necessary, that sacrifice today will lead to justice tomorrow.

But whose sacrifice is it? It’s usually not the union leadership that bears the greatest burden.

It’s the single mother unable to renew important documents because government offices are closed. It’s the patient whose procedure is postponed. It’s the hourly worker whose income disappears because businesses affected by the disruption reduce operating hours. It’s the small entrepreneur who cannot afford another week of economic uncertainty.

These people are rarely considered when slogans are shouted through megaphones or when headlines announce another nationwide shutdown.

One has to ask whether the broader national interest is sufficiently considered before these decisions are made.

No reasonable person disputes that workers have a legal and moral right to strike. That right exists because it provides employees with leverage when negotiations fail. However, rights also come with responsibilities.

The responsibility should include carefully considering the impact on innocent citizens. The responsibility should include exhausting every reasonable avenue before resorting to measures that paralyze a nation. The responsibility should include recognizing that every day of disruption has real human and economic consequences.

Unfortunately, it often seems that these considerations become secondary.

Instead, the message appears to be: "If we do not get what we want, everyone must suffer." Whether intended or not, that perception breeds resentment. Even among people who may initially support workers' demands, sympathy begins to fade when they themselves become victims of the dispute.

History has shown that economies are fragile. A single week of widespread disruption can cost millions in lost productivity. International investors pay attention to labour stability when deciding where to invest. Tourists notice countries repeatedly affected by strikes. Businesses considering expansion think twice when uncertainty becomes routine. The irony is that workers themselves eventually feel these economic consequences.

Reduced investment means fewer jobs. Slower economic growth means less government revenue. Less revenue limits the government's ability to improve wages, infrastructure, healthcare, education, and social services.

In the end, everyone pays.

Perhaps the greatest disappointment lies in the example being set for future generations. Every day we teach children about conflict resolution. We encourage them to communicate respectfully. We tell them to listen before reacting. We remind them that compromise is not weakness but maturity. We ask them to solve disagreements peacefully. We teach them that shouting louder does not necessarily make them right.

Then they watch adults. They see public disputes escalate into national crises. They witness threats before dialogue. They observe positions harden rather than soften. They learn that if enough pressure is applied, everyone else can be forced to endure hardship until one side wins.

Is this really the lesson we want to pass on?

Children are remarkably observant. They learn far more from what adults do than from what adults say. If we expect young people to value cooperation, patience, and mutual respect, then our national institutions—including governments, employers, and unions—must demonstrate those same values.

Leadership should never be measured solely by one's ability to mobilize supporters. True leadership is demonstrated by the ability to resolve conflict without unnecessary casualties. Sometimes the strongest leader is not the one who calls the strike. Sometimes the strongest leader is the one who prevents it.

This responsibility does not rest solely with unions. Governments must negotiate honestly and avoid allowing disputes to fester. Employers must recognise workers' legitimate concerns before frustration reaches a breaking point. Good-faith bargaining requires honesty, transparency, and mutual respect from every side.

However, unions also have an obligation to recognize that they are not accountable only to their members. When their actions have national consequences, they owe a measure of accountability to the wider society that inevitably bears the cost.

This is especially true in small nations, where the economic ripple effects of prolonged industrial action can be severe and long-lasting. One prolonged shutdown can erase years of progress, discourage investment, weaken public confidence, and create hardships that linger long after the dispute has been settled. No victory at the negotiating table should come at the expense of a nation's long-term wellbeing.

Perhaps it’s time to rethink how labour disputes are resolved. Could mandatory mediation be strengthened before strikes are called? Should independent arbitration play a greater role in essential public services? Should there be clearer thresholds for industrial action when an entire country's economy is at stake?

These are not unreasonable questions. Neither workers nor governments should possess unlimited power. Balance is the cornerstone of democracy.

At the heart of every dispute should be one simple principle: How do we achieve justice without unnecessarily harming innocent people, especially innocent children? That question deserves more attention than it currently receives.

The old saying reminds us that "calmer heads prevail." It has endured because it recognises a timeless truth: emotion may win the moment, but reason builds the future. Perhaps our national conversations need more calm and less confrontation. More listening and less posturing. More solutions and fewer ultimatums.

A country should never become a battlefield where ordinary citizens are caught in the crossfire of disputes they did not create. They deserve leaders—whether in government, business, or organized labour—who recognize that leadership is not about proving who has the greatest power. It’s about exercising that power responsibly.

The strongest societies are not those that never disagree. They are those that know how to disagree without tearing themselves apart. That’s the example our children deserve to inherit. That’s the leadership our country deserves.

And perhaps that’s the question every union leader, government official, and employer should ask before the next confrontation begins: Are we fighting for justice—or are we simply fighting to win?

But we should never sacrifice our future in the process.