Take off, eh!

What can a president do when the nation is threatened with economic disaster because of a dispute between one of his primary constituencies and big business, and only he has the power to intervene? This past weekend, President Clinton was faced with such an unwelcome situation, and he did what he should have done: He put the interests of the nation first and made the tough decision to end the strike of the American Airlines pilots.

A few minutes after midnight on Saturday, President Clinton invoked his powers under the Railway Labor Act of 1926 and appointed a Presidential Emergency Board to study the dispute. Intended to facilitate a compromise between the warring pilots' union and American Airlines, the board's immediate effect is to impose a 60-day cooling-off period in which pilots are prohibited from striking.

Clinton's order, the first of its kind in 31 years, was met with both relief and frustration. Passengers thanked the president for stopping a strike that would have cost the American economy $200 million a day and created havoc for travelers. Pilots were upset that Clinton robbed them of their leverage, saying that he had "castrated the union" and vowing to strike again when the 60 days expire.

President Clinton was right in intervening. On strike, American Airline pilots have the potential to effect many beyond themselves and the management with whom they are in conflict. Because pilots have such a vital role in the transportation process, their action would interrupt the work of mechanics, flight attendants and every other employee of the airline, none of whom desire to stop their work.

But much more important than that is the effect that the strike would have on the rest of the country. American Airlines is the nation's second-largest airline, carrying over 220,000 passengers and tons of U.S. mail every day. During the course of a long strike, millions would be affected, both by being unable to travel and by being denied the company of family and the attendance of business partners.

It is true that a bright feature of American economic history has been the right of labor to bargain collectively and, if necessary, to strike. For two reasons, however, this strike is different.

First, it is hard for the average American to feel working-class solidarity and sympathy for pilots whose average income is $120,000 a year and who want more. Images of sweat-shop oppression don't instantly come to mind. It is telling that other major unions have issued no support for their supposed comrades-at-arms; in fact, an AFL-CIO spokeswoman issued a statement which reduces to support for Clinton's action.

Secondly, this strike is different because its effects cannot be easily borne elsewhere. An auto-workers' strike, while inconvenient and perhaps deadly to the particular auto company, is not threatening to the American people or the economy; there are always cars to be had and waiting to buy a new one never hurt anyone. But when there is a meeting at 4:00 p.m. in New York, not being there can have disastrous results. Pilots have power over our time, perhaps our most precious commodity and one that can never be regained once lost.