The Czech Billionaire, the Union Pact and a Very British Power Play

The Louth-London Royal Mail, by Charles Cooper Henderson, 1820

This story keeps giving—which is why we keep returning. When a billionaire dubbed the ‘Czech Sphinx’ takes control of Royal Mail—Britain’s storied postal service—it’s both a chance for modernisation and a kind of slow-motion national retreat. Add a freshly decorated union leader, a former Tory minister turned company adviser, and a beleagured Labour government clutching a golden share in one hand and silence in the other, and things get murkier. This isn’t just about logistics or labour anymore. It’s a case study in corporate power, institutional compromise, and the fine print of national identity.

The question now: who’s really at the wheel?

The June 9 board meeting was billed as pivotal. Then—silence. An announcement on pay and conditions was expected a week ago. It didn’t come. A weekend statement, meant to clarify, only confirmed further delay. Will a formal union-management framework ever emerge, people were asking? Will these negotiations—if they ever end—steady or destabilise Royal Mail’s future? Or, as some had speculated—without confirmation—is new owner Daniel Křetínský under financial pressure from a potential debt covenant breach elsewhere?

Meanwhile, eyes turn to Greg Hands, former Tory Cabinet minister, now advising Křetínský. And Dave Ward, General Secretary of the Communication Workers Union (CWU)—a man you sense must be obeyed—was just awarded a CBE mid-discussion. Not bad for a ‘Keep Corbyn’ campaigner on £144,635 a year.

The honour, granted via King Charles III, credited Ward’s role in the ‘New Deal for Workers’ campaign and the Employment Rights Bill, along with advocacy across postal, telecoms, finance, and tech sectors. Patrick Roach (CBE) and Sue Ferns (OBE) received similar honours, though some suggest such awards reward cooperation more than struggle. Not everyone was pleased. To think, Danny Boyle and Frank Auerbach, notably, have refused such honours in the past.

‘The oppressor would not be so strong if he did not have accomplices among the oppressed,’ wrote Simone de Beauvoir—though no union leader actually said that. Still, the fear lingers. Ward faced harsh criticism for the pro-company ‘Negotiators Agreement’ reached through ACAS in April 2023. Critics say it blocked strike action, enabled job cuts, introduced two-tier pay, reduced sick leave, and increased workloads. Despite a 96% strike vote in February 2023, CWU leadership chose negotiation over confrontation.

To many, it signalled corporatist unionism: where leaders broker compromises that dampen labour resistance and align with establishment politics. The Employment Rights Bill, once a rallying point, now seems business-friendly and riddled with loopholes. Deputy PM Angela Rayner’s hard stance on strikes, notably in the Birmingham bin workers dispute, deepens concern over a Labour–union axis that sidelines resistance.
Rewind to December 2024. A thick, Dickensian, blast-from-the-past fog hung over Whitehall as the UK did the once unthinkable—handed over its 500-year-old postal service to a Czech energy tycoon in black cashmere. Enter Daniel Křetínský, owner of EP Group. By acquiring International Distribution Services (IDS) for £3.6 billion, he became the first foreign owner of this critical infrastructure.

In a letter to the government, Křetínský spoke of his ‘deep respect for Royal Mail’s history and traditions,’ promising to be a ‘responsible long-term owner.’ The solemn tone felt strangely out of place—even to this government.

‘A man may smile and smile and be a villain,’ wrote Shakespeare. Behind the polite reverence, was this just classic capitalism—consolidate, streamline, automate? His strategy prioritised parcels over letters, lockers over front doors, logistics over legacy. He promised to invest, modernise, and work with all stakeholders: workforce, regulator, government.

To win approval, EP Group agreed to binding commitments: keep Royal Mail’s HQ and tax base in the UK, retain the six-day Universal Service Obligation (USO), maintain ownership of the profitable GLS unit for at least three years, and allocate 10% of future dividends to an employee trust. The government retained its ‘golden share’—a veto over asset sales and restructuring. An emergency brake, at least on paper.

Then came the twist. The CWU—long known for militancy—welcomed the deal.

Yes—welcomed.

‘There are many ways to betray a cause, but none more insidious than to embrace it falsely,’ said Jean Genet.

In December 2024, Ward and Deputy General Secretary Martin Walsh signed a framework agreement with EP Group. IDS Chair Keith Williams told The Standard: ‘We have secured a far-reaching package of legally binding undertakings, endorsed by government.’

Ward echoed the line. No asset stripping. No break-up. No outsourcing. He called it ‘the strongest platform in years’ to influence Royal Mail’s direction.

Key protections included:

The six-day USO stays.

No gig-economy ‘owner-drivers.’

Pensions untouched.

Monthly meetings with EP Group leadership.

A 10% employee dividend share.

Ward framed it as ‘a fresh start.’ EP Group said it was about respecting the workforce and building a sustainable future.

But not everyone agreed. Grassroots activists—especially in Scotland—accused CWU leadership of capitulating. The Postal Workers Rank-and-File Committee (PWRFC) called it a ‘sell-out.’ The World Socialist Web Site called it a ‘stage-managed surrender.’ There was no member ballot. A January pay freeze remained. Surveillance tools stayed.

A key worry: the £1 billion pension surplus. Critics alleged it might fund job cuts or new projects. CWU leadership denied this and reaffirmed its opposition to outsourcing and pension raids.

Still, tension lingered. Some reps called for new ballots, pay restoration, and resistance to service cuts. It wasn’t insurrection—but it simmered.

In April 2025, just after the takeover’s approval, EP Group appointed Greg Hands as a strategic adviser. According to disclosures, Hands would advise on public affairs and regulation in the UK and Germany. Though barred from direct lobbying, his presence signalled EP’s desire for political fluency—especially with GLS active across Europe.

‘He passed like a shadow through the streets,’ wrote Thomas Hardy. Behind the scenes, Křetínský’s strategy sharpened: automation, parcel lockers, NHS deliveries, digital logistics.

‘We believe there is long-term value in the postal sector—if managed properly,’ said a spokesperson. Whether that means fewer postal workers—or just different ones—remains unclear.

The government, still clutching its golden share, watches. TSSA and Unite have voiced concern over potential outsourcing in parcels—raising the prospect of union coordination.

CWU leadership insists the agreement gives them strategic influence. The monthly advisory committee will be the test. From GLS’s fate to NHS logistics, smart lockers to letter delivery—it’s the forum where labour, capital, and logistics collide.

And the 10% dividend trust? If managed well, it could be a rare tool for worker influence in post-privatisation Britain.

Royal Mail under Křetínský isn’t just about a national institution anymore. It’s a live experiment in how labour and capital coexist amid asset acquisition, platform logistics, and so-called ‘post-neoliberal industrial strategy.’

Some see the takeover as pragmatic. Others call it the slow death of public service. What’s clear: CWU is betting on leverage over confrontation.

Last week, on their podcast, the CWU called on Labour to greenlight a select committee on the USO pilot. As if the rebellion hadn’t vanished—just gone underground. Some observers weren’t convinced.

CWU leaders then said they’d reached an agreement with Royal Mail. But that their Postal Executive—including Dave Ward, Martin Walsh, Tony Bouch, Andy Furey, Davie Roberston, and (Interim) Assistant Secretary Bobby Weatherall—had to debate and vote on it. That raised eyebrows. If there was no agreement until the vote, what exactly was just announced? And if it wasn’t shareable until then—was it even real? Then they said they will vote this week, as if to allay such concerns.

‘Has the union sold out? Has someone done a secret deal, now dressed up as hard-earned?’ people were asking, whatever the outcome. The June 26 seven-page bulletin on the USO reform pilots has been described by one person who has seen it as ‘a whitewash,’ seemingly laying much of the blame at the door of ‘CWU Deputy General Secretary Postal’ Martin Walsh. The reforms appear more geared towards slashing £300 million across 1,200 delivery offices—‘profits destined for billionaire Daniel Křetínský’s EP Group,’ as Tony Robson on the World Socialist Web Site reports—than in protecting jobs.

‘The model is a fraud,’ wrote Robson: ‘that three delivery workers can do the job of four with fewer full mail delivery dates.’ No wonder he calls fatigue a recurring theme, one of the reasons why increasing numbers of postal workers are now calling this all out on Facebook. Darkly, some are convinced the mail service will not even survive ‘this vandalism’.

‘I am an Antichrist, I am an anarchist.’ That old punk refusal feels distant now. ‘The test will be what happens when Křetínský tries to cross a red line,’ one former union organiser had said, off the record. ‘Because eventually—he will.’ Well, is this line already being crossed?

Somewhere in Prague, the billionaire at the centre of it all remains quiet, precise, enigmatic. In a 2015 speech to students, he was reported as saying he invests in ‘industries that are dying… because we think they’ll die much more slowly than the general consensus says.’

And maybe that’s the real story: not a hostile takeover, but a slow, velvet one—sanctioned by silence, gilded with honours, cloaked in modernisation. Royal Mail may or may not survive, but in what form if it does—and at what cost? In the end, this isn’t just about postmen or parcels. It’s about what a country lets go of, and who’s left holding the letter when no one’s left to deliver it.

Peter Bach lives in London.