Seventy.nine years of editorial freedom Edited and managed by students of the University of Michigan Maynard St., Ann Arbor, Mich. News Phone: 764-0552 Editorials printed in The Michigan Doily express the individual opinions of staff writers or the editors. This must be noted in all reprints. JRSDAY, JANUARY 8, 1970 NIGHT EDITOR: JIM NEUBACHER Anti-war movement: The road forward kST SEMESTER at the University was, anything but encouraging for radi- S. 'he Moratorium/Mobilization became primary vehicle with which the left tg of the Establishment attempted to e the anti-war movement back into mainstream of "legitimate" two-party itics. Following up on Eugene Mc- thy's professed goal of saving Amer- s youth from radicalism, corporate rals offered to anti-war youth the fol- ing bargain: "place your faith in lib- , Democratic politicians, and we will e you our support and leadership." e bargain was consummated. And not prisingly. .e radical wing of the movement had ed to demonstrate clearly enough to dents that anti-war sentiment w a s d-end unless it grew into anti-imper- sm. This pedagogic failure plus the ently-executed suicide of the main ,onal organization of student radicals )S) placed the liberals' offer in an at- etive light for the student body., o the Mobe took everyone to Wash- ton, marched them around a little, and !n took them back home. And in the cess it began to abort the develop- at of a single-issue anti-war m o v e- at into a movement mnore insightful, re militan~t, and more determined to orce fundamental social change in. -erica. iE REVIVAL of student's faith in the Mobe's "moderate" politics was felt the anti-ROTC campaign. Believing war's end to be imminent and never ing been won over to anti-imperial- , students logically looked askance at anti-ROTC campaign which (in their w) seemed anti-climactic and politi- ly extreme. fistaking these political reservations mere faint-heartedness, anti-ROTC ders tried a series of vanguard "exemp- r" actions designed to restore t h e Ipus' courage and resolve. It became ir that political isolation could not :ured by tactical daring. 1E THIRD principal campaign 1 a s t semester was over the bookstore is- It focused on a legitimate grievance. vas aggravated by the predictably nar- -minded, petty-business orientation Editorial Staff HENRY GRIX, Editor STEVE NISSEN RON LANDSMAN City Editor Managing Editor V'E ANZALONE...........Editorial Page Editor IS STEELE...............Editorial Page Editor NY STILLER............Editorial Page Editor CIA ABRAMSON ...Associate Managing Editor IE LIPPINCOTT.....Associate Managing Editor LIE WAYNE .................. Arts Editor N GRAY .............Literary Editor L BLOCK... ........6.Contributing Editor W BOGEMA.............Contributing Editor of the Regents and Administratin. It moved large numbers of people into mili- tant action in their own interests. All this was good. But the aftermath - specifically the inability to transform the Bookstore Coordinating Committee into an ongoing student power union - demonstrated the price radicals p a y when they begin (as they did here) to postpone their own job of persistently raising the political implications and in- adequacies of a movement in order to insure that movement's short-term vic- tory. In other words, a bookstore was won, but the degree to which the conscious- ness of the campus was raised in the course of fighting for it is not breath- taking. WHAT ROAD now for the movement? To save itself from isolation (on the one hand) and adsorption/cooptation (on the other), the movement must raise its political sights and broaden its social base. These are not mutually exclusive. For example, anti-war sentiment must become anti-imperialist on principle: it must be opposed to all authoritorianism. And that same principle will lead us into supporting the struggles in the U.S. of those who fight their own authoritarian institutions. Specifically,' the movement must ally itself with workers who confront the stratified, hierarchial institutions which run their lives (e.g., it must support the GE strike). Demands raised by students, blacks, the poor must be broadened in order to make clear to other disenfranchised groups that the sharp edge of our movement is di- rected not against them but at the social order which oppresses us all. Students should raise a demand f o r low-income housing in Ann Arbor. But instead of limiting demands simply to student housing needs, the movement should embrace the housing needs of the whole Ann Arbor community. This is especially realistic now since a full 50 per cent of the American people are now effectively priced out of the housing market (according to the Wall Street Journal!). Similarly the movement must demand that this construction be financ- ed in such a way as to remove the burden from wage-earners and put it on those corporations and individuals-higher up the income ladded. A COMPLETE PROGRAM for revitaliza- tion of the movement clearly deserves more extensive discussion than can be given here. But the general direction in which it must move is clear: radicalize the politics, extend the social base. -BRUCE LEVINE See the Z By RICK PERLOFF 2 A.M. NEW YEARS DAY. A man with a narrow b vn tie and slightly wrinkled white shirt stirs coffee. He sits alone in a crowded restaurant, facing an empty chair and packed parallel to couples who look happier than he. I fill the seat. He eyes me, twists his head leftward and says softly, nervously, and qute suspiciously "Tell me, look to my left, is that blonde looking at me?" I see a tall blonde-haired woman issuing a Miss America smile in conversation to the gen- tleman opposite her. She is not looking at the man with the narrow brown tie. I tell him so buthe is not surprised. He had little luck at a dance hours before and as his gradually balding hair dips into his forehead he says blandly that he did not score tonight. Some other guys did, but he concedes that these affairs are the getin, get out of bed sorts that are devoid of meaning. But he hasn't been scoring lately and - alone - it has begun to bother him. HE NUDGES a woman next to him, ex- plaining that he had asked her to dance, she had refused him, but that the idark of a ballroom makes people look different and less handsome. She smiles, mechan- ically, and returns to a conversation. He sips the coffee and says he wanted to be a lawyer once, but now sells insur- ance. "It's dog eat dog out there andrdon't you forget it." Two women sit beside us, and he imme- diately compliments a tall brunette on a "stunning" thin black outfit. Her friend laughs under her breath and the brunette says only thank you. The man has been turned down again. Having finished my drink, I rise and he wishes me good-bye. It may have been the first time in awhile that he scored with anyone. THE DODGE DART has left that res- taurant in Los Angeles and drifts quietly along U.S. 66 back to Ann Arbor. It has passed from the Waynesville, Missouri's to the Santa Rosa, New Mexico's, along a route that is lined with motels, hotels, and customers who glare no matter what their location at a male companion whose hair shags around his neck. The Dart has made Las Vegas whose slot machines pour out money like chyme and whose glittery greed promises "hap- piness" to the men with the narrow brown ties. It moves on the icy roads of Indiana, the dusty grounds of Texas and the curves of California, but finds a highway is fund- amentally a highway and suspects t h e s a m e for the people it encounters in America. * * * THREE PAINTERS, all about 30 "years ol, are on a coffee break in McLean, Tex- as, a town of about 1500 close to the Okla- homa border. Corduroy shirts, proletarah pants and slightly oily black hair, the three are small town men and proud of it. One says several truck drivers hollered out their windows at him for driving his truck too slowly on an Amarillo highway. He laughs at this, brags that he couldn't make it, not with the city fellows Their town, one mentions, does not have the city's problems of ghettos and the con- tinuing threat of riots because "there aren't any of them to riot in McLean." McLean, it appears, used to operate a selective admissions policy in regards to race. Now, however, there are no rules pro- hibiting blacks there as long as "the nig- gers mind their own business." Of course no one will purchase f r o m their stores or talk with them; but they are free to stay just the same. One black gentleman apparently operated a cafe but none of the whites dare entered, and his food was rumored to be poor quality be- sides. And sure enough, they all laugh, he left fast. -Daily-Thomas R. Copi But doesn't the town have one of them left? Indeed it did, said one gentleman. "Old Nigger Dave" is still around, but they guessed he was about ready to die. He lives -on a farm, they explained, and when he goes into town no one says any- thing to him, but they don't kick him out, no sir. JUST OFF Route 66, outside Waynes- ville, Mo., sits a souvenir store selling ani- mal skins, pottery and fireworks. A man, who speaks of killing wolves on a bounty. also notes he saw some black panthers near his farm. I smile, is this a pun? No. Apparently they are the live-animal panthers, for he does not return my grin. His life is detached from militant blacks and police harrassment; it is as delightful- ly simple as the rustic hippies who live in New Mexican communes. * * * THE PURPOSEFULLY efficient r i n g- ring of the telephone has always disturbed the woman who nurtured a baby with her visible, ample breast. She smiles continually, pats the child and talks with Spencer, a bearded lad who hitched w i t h us to the red-white-blue mailbox that leads down a hill and into the first commune established in New Mex- ico, outside Placita and 20 miles from Al- buquerque. When we arrive, we are greeted by a; heavily bearded man, originally from Ann Arbor, who gulps swigs from a bottle of red wine and calls himself none other than Gen. Ulysses S. Grant. We are offered some and drink it while we observe the commune: a s e r i e s of thatched huts, on a slope of sandstone rock. The shacks overlook a hill and con- tain several dogs, a cat and a fair amount of geese and chickens. Spencer tells the woman with the baby that he tried to go straight o n c e, but couldn't. Everyone told him he was crazy and maybe, he says, hoping for a person- ality different than the rest, maybe he is. SPENCER then figured he was destined to be a hippie - like, the McLean truck driver who believed himself also destined for a simple, independent life. The commune people seem to have an, antipathy to anything massive or t h a t fosters competition; a woman asks why anyone should like to attend a rock con- cert in a city - with so many people. WE WALK OVER to Grant who tells us of his attempt in a city to weasle some cigars off some men. They wouldn't give him any, he said, and Grant walked away figuring that if they weren't going to of- fer cigars to Gen. Ulysses S. Grant, they weren't worth his bother. He mentions a lawyer who was award- ed Grant's army jacket as an initiation in- to the new world when he dropped out of the legal - and straight - profession. No one says much else. Some pick ber- ries off a tree while another chops wood. Now it is time to return to the road and we tell Spencer we may return. He affec- tionately waves goodbye. AND THERE IS a continuity of con- trasts. The ghost towns, plastic mountains and patched-together slums sit sedately at the Universal City Studios. They are but half an hour from reality. In the alleys of Watts lie ripped mat- tresses, on the sidewalks lie grimy beer cans. In the stores hobble cane-clutching men clinging to life yet groping for death. On the gravel pony-tailed children ride bikes and on the corner militant youths with purple shades sell papers., This is Watts, a sunshine slum t h a t breathes bitterness. There are few tene- ments, but the frame houses and the peo- ple are both condemned. One boy is immediately hostile to ques- tions. He identifies the pigs as the police for me and glares It isĀ° the s a m e response a long-hair receives along the road; he is someone different. In both cases one is a stranger, an intruder into a closed culture with alien values and modes of living. America, the land of image and status. The radio station in Los Angeles says if you want to improve your image, you can buy a square foot of land in England. If you're clever, you can deceive people by telling them you're important when you're not. And outside Tulsa, on Route 66, we pass the Governor's car. with the "Oklahoma - 1" inscribed. After the Governor pays his money at the toll booth, the man rec- ognizes him. "I just gave a nickel to the Governor," he beams. But his enthusiasm seems somehow mis- directed. He is excited at the fact that he, a lowly person, is fraternizing with a governor, someone of awesome status. The man at the toll booth has been American- ized: he worships prestige at the expense of his own liberty. ON THE ROAD again. Cars pass us and somehow the road looks friendlier than the slums-it shields one from the America of the narrow-minded small town and makes the country into an impressive in- stitution. One of these rare moments of abstract unity came at the Painted Desert in Arizona, where Americans of differing backgrounds and automobile models call the barren splendor either "wonderful," "beautiful," "groovy," or "tres magnifique." The non-human grandeur inspires the common, monetone humanity in tourists. On the road, they are united by the com- mon experience of overcoming other cars, waiting tensely at stop lights, blinking at glaring headlights. Perhaps, the American people are united under the cliches they cherish and by the experiences they share, as de Tocquevill indicated in 1830. Then, he described the American as a "rootless conservative," dependent on no one and to be found anywhere in the country. THAT IS THE WAY it appears today. Bound by the same traditions and insti- tutions a large group of Americans does indeed share values, although they often have different ways of implementing them. The people in McLean and Waynesville yearn for independence and simplicity, but, as Tocquevile also observed, are con- tent in their Americanism and distrust anyone different than they. They are also united in their adulation of material pos- sessions and status and their beings often reak with emptiness as a result. One passes their lives on the Las Vegas Strip and in the streets of small town Oklahoma. It is quite often one independ- ent dog against another and it seems that few, despite their admirable yearnings for simplicity, stop to care for anyone else. They care for the American Dream's hol- low goals of status and wealth and believe that happiness somehow ansues the. at- tainment of the ideal. They sit alone, stir coffee and watch their lives overtake them every New Years Eve. 1~ I' LETTERS TO THE EDITOR Mayor Harris: Totalitarian Left dictatorship leaves him c old To the Editor: I HAVE opposed State Sen. Robert Huber's politics ever since I first crossed his path during the Senate's consideration of fair housing legislation in 1967. However, I believe Sen. Huber has a right to say what he thinks, even if I disagree with it. If the account in the Dec. 10 Daily is correct, Sen. Huber's right to free- dom of speech was deliberately and systematically denied by a group of students at this campus who disagree with Sen. Huber's politics. IT IS A SAD thing for the cam- pus and the country if any col- lection of intellectual bullies who want to close off freedom of speech on campus can do so at will and with impunity. There isn't much sense in having a campus if un- popular views can't be aired there. I hope that SOC and SACUA will address themselves to this problem of swiftly and effectively. More important, I hope the mass of students and faculty members will discuss and then come to grips with the issue, which is serious and current: are we to stick by Thomas Jefferson's idea of free- If we believe in the equality of man; it is hard to deny -the equal claim of all men to express what they deem to be truth. There is a terrible arrogance in the assumption that you already have so secure a grip on all truth worth knowing that you can afford to suppress those who disagree with you. -Mayor Robert J. Harris Dec. 10 shoddy business To the Editor: (The following was sent to Mr. Fred Ulrich of Ulrich's bookstore.) ENCLOSED YOU will find the halves of my credit card with your store. That card has been so destroyed for two reasons. The first is to prevent its misuse should it fall into the wrong hands. The second reason I cut my card in half is to demonstrate my dis- pleasure with the manner in which you conduct your business. In a seeming conspiracy with the other book stores in town, you charge outrageous prices. I know of two well-documented instances Student Book Service when it was founded. If you were a legitimate businessman, you would not find it necessary to stoop to such actions. I was always lead to believe that capitalism was based on the prin- ciple that there is always plenty of business for a legitimate enter- prise that provides good service. Obviously Ulrich's Books, Inc. doesn't make the grade. I there- fore regard it as highly foolish to vontinue doing business there. I only hope that actions such as mine will mare you realize that it is in your educated best interest to improve your service to the col- lege community or that the col- lege community will get wise to the shoddy way in which you con- duct your business. -David L. DeMarkey, '72 Engineering Dec. 14 health care To the Editor: THE MICHIGAN DAILY of Dec. 5 carried an article on Wal- ter Reuther's talk the previous evening on universal health in- and present material related to the place of medicine in the serv- ice to society. This was the first time medical students were given complete responsibility for' plan- ning and carrying out a portion of the official Medical School cur- riculum. Mr. Reuther's speech was one of this excellent series, pre- sented not just as an evening Uni- versity lecture, but as part of the required curriculum of a Medical School course. AS WE ARE in a period of serious discussion on this campus regarding the role of students in participating in decisions regard- ing curriculum, it seems to me that the auspices under which Mr. Reuther spoke should be of great interest to the University com- munity. The Medical School, in- cluding faculty and students, are pleased with this particular de- velopment, and thought your read- ers might be interested as well. -Robert A. Green, M.D. Associate Dean for Student Affairs School of Medicine Dec. 17 the gym closes), the gym is open only to foreign students. Why does anyone wish to segre- gate the foreign students in this manner? I believe that this pro- cedure inhibits the assimilation of foreign students. Furthermore, I can't see why American students should be prohibited from using these facilities on Friday night, a prime time. I am fully aware that the IM building is available, but it is very inconvenient to make the long trek down there. If "International S t u d e n t Night" is to be continued, I wish to suggest that the management's policy be changed, due to the great inflexibility of at least some of those presently in charge. This inflexibility is demonstrated by a personal experience I had with one individual. ON A RECENT Friday night, I walked into the gym with five friends. The gym was completely empty, except for the manager, one other student, and a janitor. The manager informed us that we could not use the gym, because it was strict policy that the gym was only for international stu- . rrrriwr r nrra r ur. r .. r - - . .. r. r _ - ni r r r w +nrr/w , i 1 r ::u mill-t ME PAW i { i j v , tt I. 4 t I '.1. 11 1 '9 0 X5 1 I L~~7 I~ a m I -F