“In many ways Yale was founded on slavery. It must be saved by
bravery!” Thus did Jesse Jackson, in his usual cringe-inducing
doggerel, rally the striking proletariat against the Robber Barons
of Woodbridge Hall. As summer turned to fall, the theme in New
Haven seemed to be: Let classes, and class warfare, begin!
With a history of labor unrest, Yale has long been a coveted
place for leftists to make their bones. (No, not W’s Skull &
Bones, the secret society — and bête noire of
conspiracy theorists — on High Street.) Like 17-year cicadas, work
stoppages are a normal event in the lives of Yalies. My earliest
memory of the school, in fact, is being shouted at by a truckload
of disgruntled union-types to “Go to Harvard!” while on a campus
visit as a high-school senior.
This year Jackson arrived to stalk the picket lines as Locals 34
and 35 — unions representing clerical/technical and service
workers respectively — struck again, for the ninth time in four
decades. Joining in too on various occasions were Democratic
presidential hopefuls Sen. Joseph Lieberman, Class of ‘64, and
Howard Dean, Class of ‘71. (No sign yet of sometime Yale Political
Union President John Kerry ‘66, but it’s early.) What better
platform could there be to mouth vague platitudes about “economic
justice” and “forgotten ordinary Americans” than a prestigious Ivy
League college, supposedly an aristocratic redoubt of privilege,
wealth, and elitism?
This casts the Yale administration in the surprising role of
conservative bogeyman. As at many of its academic counterparts,
Yale’s faculty and leadership hardly abound with fundraisers for
the Bush campaign. Still, there is a certain institutional
conservatism, born in part of the university’s decentralized
structure, and a proud tradition of upholding free speech against
the shrill, totalitarian demands of PCers. On the whole, the
professoriate, while predominantly liberal, is also admirably
non-ideological, though some teachers have moved classes off campus
to “honor the picket line.”
The student body, too, leans noticeably to the Left. (In the
2000 election, for example, more ballots were cast for Ralph Nader
than George W. Bush.) But ideological indifference is more common
than political passion, and priorities among Yalies tend to be more
grounded and practical than abstract and utopian. Sophomore Daniel
Koffler summarized the undergraduate mood to the New York
Times: “I think a lot of students start with an
upper-middle-class sympathy with the strikers, but when they see
the effect the strike will have on them, it might turn the students
against them.” Although some undergrads pool their meal money for
the picket fund, with the strike approaching its fourth week, most
dining halls closed, and union bullhorns sounding an early-morning
reveille, solidarity may soon reach its limit.
So what is at issue here? The unions’ principal demands are
traditional: higher wages and pensions. (At present, Local 34
workers average $33,000 a year; Local 35, $30,000.) In response to
these worker grievances, Yale has offered a generous package of pay
increases: an immediate raise of up to 14 percent for Local 34 and
a total raise of 44 percent over the life of the contract. Local 35
would get at least 3 percent more a year for six years. Regarding
pensions, the university proposes to boost spending to allow those
who have devoted their lives to the Yale community by working 30
years or more to retire on 83-93 percent of their net salaries,
counting Social Security. Present benefits — including health
care, tuition aide for employees’ children, and $25,000 toward the
purchase of a New Haven home — would continue as before.
The union bosses scoff. According to the Yale Daily
News, “Local 35 President Bob Proto said the University’s
proposals will force people to ‘retire in poverty.’” The
rank-and-file, however, appear unconvinced. While Proto’s service
workers mustered 93 percent participation in the strike (which
began on Aug. 27 — dorm-opening day for upperclassmen), between 40
and 59 percent of their clerical and technical brethren turned up
at their desks as usual. Perhaps they remembered the brief strike
last March, when bosses forced workers to man the lines for long
hours and days in below-freezing temperatures to claim their meager
$150 a week in strike pay. The minority of union-minded graduate
students cannot be happy either: One of the Locals’ first
concessions was to drop their demand to fast-track
teaching-assistant organization.
Even though their position in this case is extreme, no one
begrudges university employees just compensation for their labor.
It is therefore sad when the unions forget with whom they have
their quarrel and instead target civilians. On Thursday, Sept. 4,
the School of Music was set to christen a newly renovated Sprague
Hall with the School’s opening Convocation. In an outburst of
acoustic vandalism, striking workers disrupted the concert with a
cacophony of car horns.
This ugly behavior is perhaps what prompted a thoughtful but
firm e-mail from the University Secretary, Linda Koch Lorimer. With
a hint of Ronald Reagan in her style, the Secretary, in an
exquisitely worded display of quiet strength, reaffirmed Yale’s
commitment to free speech and acknowledged the unions’ right to
picket, but then noted,
The long-standing University policy provides as
follows:
“It is a violation of University regulations for any member
of the faculty, staff, or student body to prevent the orderly
conduct of a University function or activity …
Demonstrations or protests which exceed these limits will
subject the participants to temporary or permanent separation from
the University.”
It is difficult to say how, or when, the strike will be
resolved. Negotiations are stalled. Some fear it will drag on all
semester. The unions insist upon binding arbitration; Yale refuses,
desiring to settle an internal matter in house. In seeking an
equitable settlement, both sides should spare a thought for the
students, without whom there would be no university, and no
jobs.
