Hilton inhospitality

"But they do not know that the dead are there, that her guests are in the depths of Sheol" Proverbs 9:18

We had a date with Mr Howard Friedman, UK President of Hilton International. To be fair, Mr Friedman didn’t know this. That may explain why he wasn’t actually at the Hilton Park Lane in Mayfair when we turned up at five o clock on Saturday afternoon for a cup of tea and a bit of a natter. We had to make do with the Hotel Manager instead. In fact, when I say the Manager, I actually mean Benny the Duty Manager. Nice man, not the UK President of Hilton International though.

London Citizens, a broad-based alliance of community institutions (churches, mosques, trade unions and schools etc) is campaigning over the rate of pay for maids at luxury hotels like the Hilton. It has written to Mr Friedman, four times now, requesting a meeting to discuss this issue of low pay, but is yet to receive a reply, an acknowledgement even. Not so much as a comp slip. So we thought we would try another way of - how to put it? – opening the channels of communication.

A couple of dozen of us from London Citizens drifted into the hotel shortly before five and made ourselves inconspicuous among the pots of purple hydrangea and marble and bronze water features of the lobby area. Sister Margaret, from the Community of the Blessed Sacrament, showed an uncharacteristic fascination in a cabinet of assorted Rolex watches for the discerning deep sea diving chief executive, while a couple of the Somali sisters found themselves intently studying a print of a racing scene at Derby, “Runners and Riders of the Turf”.

At five o clock, we split into two groups. One group went to the reception desk and asked to meet with Mr Friedman. Could we have a word with the President please? Would you possibly mind putting a call through to his office? How about giving us his “out of hours” mobile number? The receptionist stood back a little from the counter, better to appraise the situation: Sorry sir, we have no means of contacting the President. What about in a crisis? This isn’t a crisis, sir.

It’s true that keeping a handful of Japanese businessmen from checking in for a few minutes did not probably constitute a crisis for Hilton UK. But as the other group of London Citizens went round the lobby, the restaurants, the bars, the shops and the rooms distributing a flyer (“Hilton Luxury is Housekeeper Pain”) which offered patrons a few relevant statistics (maids earn £5.05 an hour for cleaning the rooms; the cheapest room at the Hilton is £339 per night; Hilton UK operating profits in 2004 were £190M), Benny the Duty Manager was getting a bit antsy. He called security. He called his manager. He called the Police.

“If the maids are unhappy with their arrangements, they don’t have to continue working here. No one is forcing them to work here,” said Benny, looking out anxiously for the Police to arrive, “I think it is a bit unfair of you to come in here and disrupt the hotel. We are trying to run an organisation here.”

The fact is, so is London Citizens. That’s actually what it is does. It’s an Organising organisation. And as Saul Alinsky, the founder of Organising says, before you can organise you’ve got to disorganise. Sorry Benny.