New
York City Mayor Ed Koch (pictured) averted
the mess that hit his predecessor once removed, John V. Lindsay, when a 12-day strike by the Transport Workers
Union (TWU) Local 100 ended in April 1980.
It
was not an unalloyed victory for Hizzoner—warnings were immediately issued
about yawning deficits in transportation funding that could only be met with
subway and fare increases, after all.
But it was a far cry from January 1966, when a strike by the union on the very day Lindsay took office signaled to many that the forces of dysfunction were gathering in the city.
And it was probably as good a settlement as could be reached, given the countervailing pressures among the major parties in the dispute: for Koch, a fear that a cave-in to union demands would undercut the city’s negotiating posture with other municipal unions, just as New York was emerging from insolvency; for New York Governor Hugh Carey, a desire to prevent massive disruption; and for John Lawe of the TWU, a hundred-member negotiating committee, many taking a hard-line stance.
But it was a far cry from January 1966, when a strike by the union on the very day Lindsay took office signaled to many that the forces of dysfunction were gathering in the city.
And it was probably as good a settlement as could be reached, given the countervailing pressures among the major parties in the dispute: for Koch, a fear that a cave-in to union demands would undercut the city’s negotiating posture with other municipal unions, just as New York was emerging from insolvency; for New York Governor Hugh Carey, a desire to prevent massive disruption; and for John Lawe of the TWU, a hundred-member negotiating committee, many taking a hard-line stance.
As
a student commuting from New Jersey to Columbia University, I found the strike
to be enormously inconvenient. But I was able to stay with a friend in his dorm
during the period, and felt, in fact, glad to put extra time in at my college
paper and to enjoy the early spring days that begin what are, in many ways, the
most wonderful time of the year on that urban campus.
In
a small way, my experiences mirrored that of many of the city’s 5.4 million other
commuters in how we managed to make accommodations to get through the
crisis. That, no doubt, gave a stronger hand to Koch than Lindsay had.
In
length, little separated the two work stoppages by public employees, since the
one in 1966 lasted only a day beyond the later one. But there were four
differences between the strikes that were crucial:
*Season. Fiery union head Michael J. Quill led his men out on
January 1. Not only was this the time of year when everyone was returning from
the holidays and were unlikely, because of snow and cold temperatures, to want
to be outside, but the Lindsay administration had not even gotten used yet to
the elementary routine of running the city. In contrast, in 1980, schools were
off for several days because of the Passover / Easter break; other area
transportation services helped to mitigate the inconvenience of the TWU strike; and the Koch administration had been in office a couple of years, giving them time to learn the levers of power.
*Personalities. The 1966 strike occurred
in no small measure because of the two fire-and-ice figures at its center. The
fire was supplied by Quill, who, over the prior three decades, had won the
fierce allegiance of his union’s rank and file (including my grandfather)
through wage gains that lifted their standards of living. Despite a reputation
for radicalism indicated by his nickname “Red Mike,” he had secured many of
these gains through canny dealings with Democratic mayors (e.g., agreeing to
back Mayor William O’Dwyer’s desire for a fare increase in 1948 in return for a
generous labor contract). The “ice” was supplied by the Republican Lindsay, who,
coming into office, was intent on reining in what he saw as excessive giveaways
to labor. The WASP, patrician-looking mayor “looked down on blue-collar
workers,” admitted Edward Herlihy, who later served in his administration as a
labor aide. Understandably, the mayor’s high-toned calls for the union to
exercise “civic responsibility” endlessly enraged the Irish-born Quill, who
intentionally mispronounced the name of the new occupant of Gracie Mansion as
“Lindsley.” In contrast, while the TWU disliked Koch, the mayor also did not exhibit
toward Lawe the condescension that fairly oozed from Lindsay
toward Quill.
*Mood. The timing of the 1980 strike put
a spring, so to speak, in many New Yorkers’ steps. They had survived just about
anything thrown at them in the last five years—a brush with municipal
bankruptcy, the Son of Sam serial killer panic, a blackout—and they were still
standing. By comparison, a transit strike, called at a time when the weather
was improving, was nothing. Many took to riding bikes to work; many women took
to wearing sneakers on the way to the office, a fashion trend they continued
when the dust settled. The newspapers took to printing photos of crowds
crossing the Brooklyn Bridge on foot. Through it all, Koch did not so much play
chief decision-maker (particularly at the start of the strike, he stepped back,
allowing Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA) head Richard Ravitch to
take the lead in negotiations) as chief cheerleader. When a heckler accused him
of being a strikebreaker, the mayor shot back, “And you’re a wacko!”—and
countless numbers cheered his give-as-good-as-you-get style. Nearly a quarter
century later, Koch laughingly told AP reporter Larry McShane that the strike was “the high point of my 12 years as mayor." The 1980 strike took place about 10 days after the start of
spring, and it was about to turn warmer; the 1966 strike occurred a comparable
time after the start of winter, and the climate, meteorological and otherwise,
was about to worsen.
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