But today, Local 17 officials view Rykunyk as their arch rival. They accuse her of trying to steal its members and endangering the future of the very union that she helped build.

“It’s unfortunate when someone like Jaye leaves and kind of stabs us in the back,” says Joy Anderson, a member of Local 17′s executive board and a banquet server at a downtown Minneapolis hotel. “People are mad about that and disappointed.”

The dispute is just one piece of a contentious, nationwide crumbling of the UNITE HERE labor alliance. Five years ago UNITE — formerly the Union of Needletrades, Industrial and Textile Employees — and HERE merged. At the time it looked like an ideal marriage. The two unions had  worked cooperatively on a strike at Yale University and an organizing drive at the H&M clothing chain. HERE focused on a group of workers that seemed ripe for organizing drives but was short on cash. UNITE’s core industries had been ravaged by the North American Free Trade Agreement, but it had plenty of money. Among its holdings: Amalgamated Bank, with roughly $5 billion in assets at the time.

But the partnership has since gone horribly sour. At the heart of the battle is a clash between two of labor’s most charismatic figures, former national HERE leader John Wilhelm and former UNITE boss Bruce Raynor. The current uprising began in January when UNITE HERE’s top official in Michigan was ousted, and violent confrontations ensued between the two factions. The next month Raynor filed a lawsuit in federal court accusing his adversaries of violating the union’s constitution and seeking to seize control of the labor group’s finances. Wilhelm’s faction counter-sued. Then in March several regional boards, which oversee local unions, voted to disaffiliate themselves from UNITE HERE.

The ramifications of the nasty dispute have spilled out across the country. Despite her roots in HERE, Rykunyk was among the officials who sided with the Raynor faction. She argues that the UNITE HERE merger was an unmitigated failure and that the clashing cultures of the two organizations could not be reconciled.

“Anytime there is a divorce, it’s painful and it’s complicated,” says Rykunyk. “Emotions run high. I know my former colleagues have some very strong feelings and I hope that that will pass.”

Local 17 officials, however, balked at her alignment with what they call the “secessionist” movement.

“Jaye tried to bring us with her and we refused,” says Wade Luneberg, Secretary/Treasurer of Local 17. “We’re a hospitality local. The majority of their members are not hospitality workers. We didn’t think it made sense.”

The two parties have been warring ever since the breakup. Rykunyk insists that she’s not trying to destroy the union that she spent so many years helping to build.

“These struggles are nothing new,” she notes. “That’s part of the American labor movement. People have very divergent views. … It would be nice if we were all focused on doing the same thing at the same time, but that’s not the way democratic institutions work.”

SEIU figures in dispute

Further complicating matters is the role of the Service Employees International Union (SEIU) in the dispute. When UNITE HERE initially began to implode, SEIU president Andy Stern suggested that its workers be absorbed into his union. While UNITE HERE officially rebuffed the advance, Raynor jumped at the opportunity. The group of disaffected workers — which ranges from 40,000 to 150,000 depending on which side you ask — then formed a new SEIU-aligned union called Workers United.

Local 17 officials have directed most of their ire at the powerful, two-million-plus member SEIU, accusing it of meddling in matters that are outside its purview. In a letter sent to other Twin Cities labor officials and allies at social justice organizations, Luneberg’s rhetoric is heated.

“Rather than helping to build a strong more unified movement to fight for jobs that sustain our communities, the SEIU, by forcing a split in UNITE HERE, is undertaking one of the largest inter-union raids in American labor history,” the letter reads. “SEIU’s raid is unprecedented in both its tone and scale.”

Local SEIU officials adamantly deny that their union played any role in the UNITE HERE meltdown.

“Their message is that SEIU caused this, but the facts just betray them,” says Javier Morillo-Alicea, president of SEIU Local 26. “They decided to leave. We did not cause that. I just think it’s outrageous, it’s unfortunate and it’s just plain hysterical.”

Another complication is that Local 26 and Local 17 have traditionally been close allies in the labor movement. Both are considered activist unions and work primarily with low-wage workers, many of them immigrants. In addition, they work out of the same Minneapolis building, just one floor apart. “That is why this is particularly painful,” says Morillo-Alicea.

Julie Schnell, president of SEIU Healthcare Minnesota, is equally forceful in denying any responsibility for UNITE HERE’s problems. “It is rather disturbing and shocking that those accusations are being made,” she says. “Rather than taking the opportunity to have a discussion directly with SEIU, it appears that they have taken the opportunity to make accusations.”

UNITE HERE officials, however, argue that SEIU has fomented the split by providing funding and support for the fledgling Workers United. In fact, Rykunyk is working out of the offices of SEIU Healthcare Minnesota as she seeks to build the union. Among the alleged tactics utilized by Workers United in wooing workers: sending misleading fliers to their homes promoting the new union and recruiting workers at their job sites.

Martin Goff, organizing director for Local 17, says Workers United is also promising workers lower dues in its campaign to solicit members. “That’s the kind of dirty little game they’re playing,” he says. “It just disgusts.”

Rykunyk, however, denies that Workers United is engaging in any such tactics to recruit workers. “We are not going into their shops soliciting their workers,” she says. “That just is not true.”

Sorting through the rabble of accusations is extremely difficult. But what’s clear is that the contentious dispute is doing little to further the supposed missions of labor unions: improving the lives of workers. At a time when organized labor believes that it has the most friendly administration in decades in the White House, and when the passage of the Employee Free Choice Act is supposed to be the chief priority, the infighting has become a burdensome distraction.

“Nobody’s going to come out of this stronger,” says Bernie Hesse, an organizer with United Food and Commercial Workers Local 789 and a veteran labor activist. “UNITE’s going to get damaged and HERE’s going to get damaged. The only group that’s going to benefit is the employers.”

There doesn’t appear to be any end in sight to the dispute. Other unions have stepped in to try and mediate a settlement, but with little success. Litigation continues to wind its way through the federal courts and could drag on for months. UNITE HERE officials continue to insist that the merged union will eventually live up to its name.

“We believe that the merger has worked very well, thank you very much,” Luneberg says.