Levi Strauss Sews Up Enthusiastic Support for Factory in Polish City

The Levi Strauss operation in Poland consists of two empty warehouses, both about the size of a football field, and half a dozen young Polish employees, well-scrubbed and eager, enthusiastic at being a part of this bright new symbol of Western confidence in Poland.

This, they say, is Levi’s, the world-famous trademark, known for quality and marketing wizardry, and it has come here, to Plock (pronounced Pwotsk), population 120,000, known heretofore for the sulfurous air produced by one of Poland’s largest oil refineries.

“It’s a very good feeling,” said Jaroslaw Troch, the young office manager, “to know that jeans made here could be sold in New York, the same quality, the same standard.”

That idea--the prospect of Poland producing goods of Western standard and Western quality for a famous Western firm--has an appeal that is like a tonic to this city and its officials.

It is the dream that many towns across Poland and, indeed, in most of the reforming nations of Eastern Europe would like to see come true for them.

Unfortunately for most, the dream will be remote for some time.

As the experience of Levi Strauss in Poland shows, it is not easy. Levi Strauss settled in Plock because of the combined efforts of a handful of politicians and some rapid financial maneuvers on the part of the city, all taken with a speed that is still unusual in a country where bureaucracies remain slow and the laws uncertain.

The Levi’s factory in Plock hopes to begin operating in January. Its initial work force will be about 600, heading for an eventual peak of about 1,200.

“We will be producing for the Polish market,” said Claude Flauraud, the project manager of the Plock operation, who still commutes between Plock and Levi Strauss offices in Geneva. “We are enthusiastic and optimistic. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here.”

There are problems that he has encountered in operating in Poland, Flauraud acknowledges.

“Telecommunications is a big problem,” he said. “As an international company, we rely on communications. Here, sometimes when we need to talk to Warsaw, we call Geneva and ask them to get Warsaw on the line for us.”

Another problem is the sorry state of the banking industry. “Everything is done with cash,” he said. “Everything takes too long. When we pay our employee taxes, we send a secretary down with an envelope of cash.”

Laws are also confusing, the old regulations being phased out and new ones, written but not yet enacted, piled up in a dithering Parliament. “It’s slow, but it’s going in the right direction,” Flauraud said.

A few months ago, Flauraud was not so optimistic, for he and the Levi Strauss team, in their first approaches to Poland, ran into a wall of disinterest when they took their initial inquiries to the city of Lodz, historically Poland’s textile and clothing manufacturing center. Lodz is the second-largest city in Poland and is suffering a deep economic depression.

“It was remarkable what happened to Levi Strauss when they went to Lodz,” said Andrzej Cielinski, a longtime Solidarity activist who now represents Plock in the Polish Senate. “The president (mayor) of the town couldn’t even bother to see them.”

After weeks of desultory talks and of searching without cooperation or success for a suitable site for a plant, Levi Strauss, Cielinski heard, was ready to leave Poland.

Flauraud, however, was not quite ready to give in. A consulting company suggested Plock, and Sen. Cielinski was contacted. That contact, Cielinski said, “was like a gift” falling out of the sky.

The interest of Levi Strauss in Poland seemed to go to the heart of the country’s needs, Cielinski believed. It was not so much the eventual 1,200 jobs the factory would represent, it was the idea behind it that was essential.

“Poland must create a climate that is open to business--both foreign business and Polish business,” Cielinski said. “Everything depends on that.”

Cielinski had as an ally the chief executive officer of the city of Plock, Andrzej Dretkiewicz, a businessman who describes himself as “more of a manager than a politician.” He had no doubt about the importance in his town of a factory run by Levi Strauss, and he had no doubt about what to do.

The way was complicated, but, in the old context of doing business with government in Poland, amazingly swift. Dretkiewicz and Cielinski, joined by the head of the regional government, the Voivod, came up with a plan to offer a complex of warehouses owned by the Voivod as a site for the Levi’s plant. First, however, the city government of Plock would have to buy the warehouses from the Voivodship.

The city council, after persuasion from Dretkiewicz, voted unanimously to approve the purchase. It was financed with a $700,000 loan--a three-month advance on tax payments from the huge refinery, the city’s largest taxpayer. An agreement was then reached with Levi Strauss to lease the buildings from the city, with an option to buy in the future.

Back in Warsaw, there were still more legal and administrative hurdles to cross. Cielinski, at one point, summoned to a conference room in the Polish Parliament representatives from six government ministries and agencies.

Cielinski said he told the men at the meeting he wanted them to get beyond bureaucratic posturing and figure out how to get the job done--in two months.

Despite initial scoffing at such a deadline, it was essentially met, and the way was cleared.