Fast Food Nation - Eric Schlosser [141]
The British journalist John Vidal, in his book on the McLibel trial, noted some of the similarities between Dave Morris and Ray Kroc. As Morris offered an impassioned critique of globalization, the comparison made sense — both men true believers, charismatic, driven by ideas outside the mainstream, albeit championing opposite viewpoints. During the McLibel trial, Paul Preston, the president of Mc-Donald’s UK, had said, “Fitting into a finely working machine, that’s what McDonald’s is about.” And here was Morris, in the living room of his North London flat, warmed by a gas heater in the fireplace, surrounded by stacks of papers and files, caring nothing for money, determined somehow to smash that machine.
On March 31, 1999, the three Court of Appeal justices overruled parts of the original McLibel verdict, supporting the leaflet’s assertions that eating too much McDonald’s food can cause heart disease and ruling that it was ‘fair comment’ to say that workers are treated badly. The court reduced the damages owed by Steel and Morris to about £40,000. The McDonald’s Corporation had previously announced that it had no intention of collecting the money and would no longer try to stop London Greenpeace from distributing the leaflet (which by then had been translated into twenty-seven languages). McDonald’s was tired of the bad publicity and wanted this case to go away. But Morris and Steel were not yet through with McDonald’s. They appealed the Court of Appeal decision to the British House of Lords and sued the police for providing information about them to McDonalds. Scotland Yard settled the case out of court, apologizing to the pair and paying them £10,000 in damages. When the House of Lords refused to hear their case, Morris and Steel filed an appeal with the European Court of Human Rights, challenging the validity not only of the verdict, but also of the British libel laws. As of this writing, the McLibel case is entering its eleventh year. After intimidating British critics for years, the McDonald’s Corporation picked on the wrong two people.
back at the ranch
WHEN THE FIRST McDonald’s opened in East Germany, in December of 1990, the company was unsure how American food would be received there. On opening day the McDonald’s in Plauen served potato dumplings, a Vogtland favorite, along with hamburgers and fries. Today hundreds of McDonald’s restaurants dot the landscape of eastern Germany. In town after town, statues of Lenin have come down and statues of Ronald McDonald have gone up. One of the largest is in Bitterfeld, where a three-story-high, illuminated Ronald can be seen from the autobahn for miles.
During my first visit to Plauen, in October of 1998, McDonald’s was the only business open in the central market square. It was Reunification Day, a national holiday, and everything else was closed, the small shops selling used clothing and furniture, the pseudo-Irish pub on one corner, the pizzeria on another. McDonald’s was packed, overflowing not just with children and their parents, but with teenagers, seniors, young couples, a cross-section of the town. The restaurant was brightly lit and spotlessly clean. Cheerful middle-aged women took orders behind the counter, worked in the kitchen, delivered food to tables, scrubbed the windows. Most of them had worked at this Mc-Donald’s for years. Some had been there since the day it opened. Across the street stood an abandoned building once occupied by a branch of the East German