Bulgarian Labor Protection Law

Not long ago, Bulgarian capitalist Bill Kiev went straight to Romania to "relocate a factory." Unfortunately, he made too much of a stir and got detained.

Bill Kiev was the son of Evlogi Georgiev, a Bulgarian capitalist and one of the founders of Sofia University. He was clever and quick-witted, but also reckless and audacious.

Amid the rush to poach workers, Bill Kiev didn't put up a recruitment sign like everyone else. He thought that was far too inefficient.

After entering Alexandria, Romania, Bill Kiev set his sights on the Vibel Paper Mill. He paid off some local toughs, who found the two local brothers, Nikost, who worked at the factory.

"Big brother, is what Mr. Bill Kiev said true?" Young Nikost asked anxiously.

"How would I know? But those eight hundred lei can't be fake, can they?" Old Nikost said casually.

"Yeah! Things are already like this for our family. If we can't pay back our debts, they'll beat us to death!" Young Nikost said helplessly.

"No, they won't. At worst, they'll turn us into their slaves. If they kill us, who'll pay them back?" Old Nikost said reassuringly.

Ever since their father, Elder Nikost, fell ill three years ago, their family's life had become difficult. They'd been forced to borrow money at usurious interest, but Elder Nikost still hadn't made it through.

After that, the Nikost family began their long struggle to repay their debt. It had started at thirty lei and had now grown to five hundred, though the brothers had paid back a hundred in the meantime.

"Forget it. As long as Mr. Bill is willing to pay, we'll do it. Dracula the bloodsucker isn't exactly a good man anyway!" Young Nikost said fiercely.

"Exactly, my brother. Dracula the bloodsucker would love to squeeze every last leu out of us. Going to Bulgaria to make a living might be a good way out." Old Nikost said hopefully.

Once the Nikost brothers were of one mind, they began persuading people on Bill's behalf. Most didn't believe them, but for the sake of their past friendship, they still agreed to meet Bill.

Bill put his silver tongue to work and soon talked a group of workers into it. Then he paid them a month's wages in advance as a deposit.

As a proper capitalist, Dracula was naturally a greedy bloodsucker too. So it was only natural that Bill Kiev stripped his factory of its workers, then secretly fled with them.

If that had been all, it wouldn't have mattered. As long as he ran fast enough, by the time anyone noticed, he'd already be back in Bulgaria, beyond anyone's reach.

But after tasting success, how could Bill Kiev be content with just one job? He indulged his capitalist nature and went straight into labor brokerage, luring workers from all over Romania and taking a commission for himself.

As it turned out, the capitalists of the nineteenth century were no easy marks. After only a few jobs, Bill was targeted. Unfortunately, he was exposed in the Caracal region and detained by local capitalists.

With his silver tongue, Bill managed to save his life. Now the other side was demanding a ransom from Evlogi Georgiev.

Worried about Bill's safety, Evlogi Georgiev went to Foreign Minister Metev. After all, Metev had married Evlogi Georgiev's daughter, so he had no choice but to step in and rescue this ~~.

Evlogi Georgiev obviously had no intention of paying a ransom of one million lei. Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't have scraped it together in such a short time!

Metev was in a bind. He used his personal connections to reach the other side, and negotiations went smoothly. Bill's safety was guaranteed, and there was no need to worry about his treatment. They only had to pay the ransom—and not a single coin less.

In the end, Metev went to great lengths, piled up a mountain of favors owed, and paid out a hefty sum before he managed to get Bill out.

That marked the end of the worker-poaching incident. Afterward, capitalists in every country became more vigilant, and Bulgaria could no longer poach workers with impunity.

Ferdinand's carefree days were over, too. The flood of newcomers brought Bulgaria not only benefits, but also a whole heap of trouble.

Crime rates soared, tensions between locals and outsiders worsened, and the capitalists started acting up again, brazenly withholding wages. Labor disputes sprang up everywhere. Some capitalists even tried to cut costs by hiring large numbers of migrant workers and laying off Bulgarian workers.

To mediate the disputes, government departments had to rush out one after another, and they were already exhausted. Bulgaria was fortunate that Ferdinand's industries held a dominant position in the country and had always played by the rules; otherwise, things would have gotten out of hand.

Looking at the problems reported from all over the country, Ferdinand knew it was time to introduce labor protection laws. If they dragged this out any longer, a workers' revolution might break out any day.

On September 18, 1890, Bulgaria's first law to resolve labor disputes, the Bulgarian Labor Law, was passed.

Ferdinand had drawn on labor laws from later generations and the United Kingdom's Factory Act, among others, to draft the law. It tilted somewhat toward the working class, and its penalties for labor disputes were astonishingly severe.

Later generations would regard it as the first genuine labor protection law. Its provisions clearly stipulated that workers in physically demanding jobs could work no more than ten hours a day. Any additional hours had to be paid as overtime, and workers were entitled to one paid day off each week.

It also set a minimum monthly wage of no less than seventy-five leva, roughly equivalent to three pounds sterling. Broken down by the hour, that figure was about equal to the average wage in Bulgaria at the time.

For labor disputes, if a capitalist maliciously withheld wages or arbitrarily docked them, the maximum penalty was confiscation of the factory, along with a hefty fine.

Likewise, if workers maliciously caused trouble, framed others, extorted or blackmailed them, they faced life imprisonment if caught.

All illegal acts would be severely punished. However, the law did not protect everyone; many of its provisions applied only to Bulgarian citizens.

For example, the ban on arbitrary layoffs applied only to Bulgarian citizens. The minimum wage was also a privilege reserved for the country's own citizens.

Migrant workers who spoke Bulgarian were guaranteed a minimum wage of only eighty percent of that for Bulgarian citizens. Those who didn't speak it received minimum-wage protection of only fifty percent.

The same applied to rest days and working hours: Bulgarian citizens and foreign workers were treated differently. Moreover, Bulgarian citizens had to make up at least sixty percent of each factory's workforce.

They might as well have said outright that capitalists could squeeze foreign workers without restraint, as long as they went easy on their own people!

As soon as the Bulgarian Labor Protection Law was introduced, it caused an uproar. Most people naturally praised it, calling it a major step forward in Bulgaria's democratic progress.

Some scholars also mocked it mercilessly, claiming it undermined the capitalist free market. Apart from a few capitalists who supported it, no one else came forward in its favor.

A small number of do-gooders argued that the government hadn't done enough and should have treated everyone equally. Unfortunately, their voices were too weak; even the newspapers couldn't be bothered to print them.