We share this text which shares experience from a comrade which started working in a factory in China and how he got engaged in the class struggle.
After our Workers’ Integration Group entered Factory A, they successfully initiated an economic struggle, which is recorded here. The incident was triggered by a power shift in the workshop, leading to a new supervisor tightening management in various ways. Our group participated in collective activities and gathered opinions from workers. We found that while many were dissatisfied with the changes, they were still willing to tolerate them, meaning the conditions for struggle were not yet ripe. Below is a first-person account from the author of this article.
First Struggle: Fighting Against Production Increases
I had been in the workshop for over a month and was assigned to a good post. Using the convenience of my position, I moved around, making friends with colleagues, and quickly became familiar with many of them. One day, the new supervisor suddenly announced a production increase during the pre-shift meeting, which immediately triggered widespread discontent. However, this dissatisfaction did not translate into direct resistance on the shop floor and quickly subsided.
The next day, we were hit with another production increase, which sparked even greater discontent. This time, I noticed that some workers were beginning to develop a sense of resistance. I judged that the time was ripe and decided to take action.
Coincidentally, the worker in charge of the “first station” (the initial process in the assembly line, responsible for material preparation and assembly) could no longer endure the high production targets and two consecutive increases, so they quit in protest. The new supervisor, after some thought, decided to transfer me to this position. On one hand, I had been disobedient—always running around the workshop instead of staying put—so the supervisor wanted to lock me down in one spot. On the other hand, I was fast in my previous position, making me suitable for the “first station”. As a result, I unexpectedly gained partial control over production output.
However, since the previous worker had left abruptly, I was not yet fully familiar with the position. To meet the output targets, I had to sacrifice time spent socialising at work. After my shift, I felt physically unwell due to overwork. Clearly, maintaining the status quo would harm both my organising efforts and my health. Both subjective and objective conditions told me that I needed to make a change.
The next day, when starting my shift, I deliberately slowed down the material preparation process, leading to a final output that was significantly lower—two production increases’ worth of extra work simply vanished. Since I was new to the position, management didn’t blame me too harshly. I immediately spread the word about my “Mo-Yu”(摸鱼 means deliberate slowdown and this can also be a noun, eg: “I spent the whole afternoon Mo-Yu at work, just talking with my colleagues.”) tactics and shared two key messages with my colleagues:
1. “This is capitalist exploitation.”
2. “Even if we only produce half the target, the factory will still keep running well.”
Everyone agreed.
This was my first round of agitation.
The following day, I used the same tactic again. This time, the “line leader” (a lower-level manager) started pressuring me on behalf of the supervisor. Since I was still not fully skilled and was physically exhausted, I couldn’t increase my speed even if I wanted to. My only option was to “pretend to comply”—working quickly when the line leader was watching but slowing down as soon as they walked away. Some colleagues didn’t fully understand this tactic, but they didn’t distance themselves from me either.
Management soon caught on. When confronted, I argued back, leading to a public dispute with the line leader. This attracted the attention of many nearby workers. After a morning-long standoff, the line leader reported me to the new supervisor, saying they no longer wanted me on the line. The supervisor immediately understood what was happening and called me in for a reprimand, hoping I would quit voluntarily. (As a temporary worker, they could send me back to the labour agency company at any time without risk or compensation.) However, since I couldn’t afford to leave the factory just yet, I played dumb and pretended I didn’t understand how to get along with my manager. I even acted slightly remorseful.
Because I had been efficient in my previous position and had good relationships with many colleagues, the supervisor decided to give me another chance. They vaguely warned me that I’d be fired if the afternoon’s production didn’t meet the target. The reprimand was loud and took place in the centre of the production line (which was structured like a rectangular loop), ensuring that my “Mo-Yu” tactics became widely known across the entire workshop. Many workers came to ask me what had happened.
Seeing this as an opportunity, I carried out my second round of agitation, saying:
– “The new supervisor keeps increasing production, so I’m resisting with “Mo-Yu”.”
– “Yesterday I slowed down production, and today management is targeting me—I can’t hold up under the pressure.”
Although everyone supported my resistance and defiance of management, no one was ready to take action yet. To avoid being fired—or rather, to continue working in the factory—I chose to compromise and met the production target that afternoon.
Over the following days, as I became more skilled and temporarily conceded, my reputation among the supervisor and line leader improved. Nearby colleagues also changed their attitudes, no longer seeing me as simply lazy.
But management, prioritising output over dignity, soon announced another production increase. Although no workers had yet actively responded, the situation was already shifting.
Shortly after starting work that day, I noticed something unusual—the lower level of the assembly line wasn’t receiving empty trays. (Our workshop’s infrastructure was mid-tier—not fully automated. Finished products had to be placed in trays, which were then transported to the upper level of the line. After passing through several processes and robotic arms, empty trays would return to the lower level.) Clearly, some workers had begun “Mo-Yu”, causing a backlog of trays at the upper level.
Seeing that management was distracted dealing with these workers, I immediately joined in.
With the “first station” (me) now also engaging in “Mo-Yu”, the balance of power quickly shifted. Management was overwhelmed, running back and forth between the start and end of the line, even assigning a line leader specifically to watch me. I couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. That day, production targets were not met.
Perhaps out of exhaustion, or perhaps because they realised output couldn’t be pushed any further, the next day, the supervisor was forced to lower the target slightly—and they never increased production again.
Our struggle had won a victory. It wasn’t a major one, but most workers felt it was enough, so I didn’t push further.
Afterward, I conducted my third round of agitation. This time, the goal was to explain the “cause and effect” behind reducing production. The message was clear:
– “This is how capitalists operate—if you don’t resist, they’ll keep squeezing you.”
In this first struggle, I carried out three rounds of agitation:
1. Explaining “why” we needed to fight.
2. Explaining the “need for collective struggle”.
3. Reviewing the fight afterward to reinforce its “necessity”.
Each round adapted to the changing situation. In essence, it was political education combined with economic struggle.
Take, for example, a multi-skilled worker on the station next to me—someone who originally had illusions about class mobility. At first, he thought I was just complaining and being lazy. But in just a few days, he not only started “Mo-Yu” with me but also became my friend. His mindset had changed dramatically.
In the end, I wasn’t fired. On the contrary, my relationship with the supervisor and line leader even improved. It’s fascinating how human nature works. Although I remained a “key target for management,” once I resumed normal production, their accusations against me seemed more like baseless slander, making me more respected in the eyes of my colleagues.