The West Virginia Teachers’ Strike Is the Rebirth of American Progressivism Made Manifest

West Virginia had enough. Everything which followed grew from that single fact. You can rewrite and reframe the debate in a thousand different ways, but that’s what it finally comes down to: the teachers fought back, and the teachers won. Strikes get the goods.
Their victory is wonderful news, and welcome tidings in a cold season. Already, the Right is trying to shift the debate: the teachers winning means we have to take money away from Medicare. It’s bullshit, and they know it. They’re using the same old playbook: divide and conquer. They are preaching the same moth-eaten sermon: “There’s a limited amount of money for the plebs to share.” It won’t work anymore. The lie is falling apart, like the pieces of a dying octopus. Capital can only grind so hard and so far before it hits a spine. There’s a limit to how far you can push people before they become militant. That moment was reached in coal country last week.
The importance of West Virginia represents more than union power, as remarkable and special as that is. It also illustrates the failures of the Corporate Democratic establishment, and heralds the possibility of a new, hopeful Democratic Party, one which will represent working people.
Of course it happened in West Virginia. The state was reliably blue until very recently. When the big-money crowd turned the Dems into the party of well-heeled professionals, all of the old Democratic constituencies fell by the wayside. No wonder the state voted for the Republicans. What choice did they have? But with a popular movement, the tide will turn. West Virginia shows how a non-Hamptons-based Democratic movement could be built.
The fact that newspapers were so surprised by the strike demonstrates a shallow understanding of history. The American story is a long saga of labor battles, bloody and violent. There is a reason this chronology is not taught in schools: such notions are dangerous. And the people in charge figured it didn’t matter. After all, in the Nineties, victorious neoliberalism told us all that the age of ideas was dead. The End of History had arrived. There was simply nothing to fight about. If there was exploitation, it was simply the market working out the kinks. Austerity was a law of nature. Everything would be better in a few years.
When I was growing up, there was one answer to any social problem. That answer has been replaced by questions: What happens when the old world wakes up? What happens when people rediscover the old ideas? What happens when people discover the consensus no longer holds? The farce is over.
In plain truth, West Virginia is an act of remembering. In Greek drama, there is a term called anagnorisis, or “recognition.” It’s basically a fancy old term for what M. Night Shyamalan does in every movie. Anagnorisis is the name for the moment when tragic hero Oedipus realizes the stranger he killed on a dusty road was his own father. Wikipedia says anagnorisis “originally meant recognition in its Greek context, not only of a person but also of what that person stood for.” West Virginia is the anagnorisis of the Democratic Party. A rediscovery. The Pelosi wing of the Democrats forgot who built the party. They are remembering now.
Chesterton once suggested the English commonwealth did not “rest on the kindness of the rich to the poor. It rests on the perennial and unfailing kindness of the poor to the rich.” And so it is in modern America.
Civilization depends on the tolerance of working people for their incompetent overclass. Seen in this light, austerity is a fragile, silly thing. It is brittle like a silence, which vanishes when a single person happens to sneeze.
Physical might, physical power, is always on the side of the ruled. It is simply impossible, even with a great military, to rule millions of people, unless you have their cooperation. And that cooperation is coming to an end. If the teachers can strike, anyone can strike. The teachers of West Virginia do not exist by the grace of the state; the state exists by the grace of the teachers.
The success of the West Virginia strike leads us to a second question: When do mass movements turn a corner? Why do some ideas seem silent as the grave, only to jump to life a moment later? Three years ago, would this strike have seemed possible?