I
'uj 4r irhiogan Batlu
Seventy-Sixth Year
EDITED AND MANAGED BY STUDENTS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
UNDER AUTHORITY OF BOARD IN CONTROL OF STUDENT PUBLICATIONS
FEIFFER
Whev Opinions Are ree 420 MAYNARD ST., ANN ARBOR, MICH.
'mutb Will Prevail
NEws PHONE: 764-0552
Editorials printed in The Michigan Daily express the inidividual opinions of staff writers
or the editors. This must be noted in all reprints.
FRIDAY, JUNE 3, 1966
NIGHT EDITOR: MARTHA WOLFGANG
- i
Students Voters Can Still
Make a Difference
P E R 5 T O M AK E * G
THWOJS,
1T60OR A 3 (( t
D~ THE CON N&L/~'
( s r
°TU K
CSCAM61
A W J ' t
y II
TrO MAK6
W& THE KAOWW9V, r.
THAT; W OHAT-
ER HOW HAMp(
HE TRIC
MAN) CAMW /ir '
copRupr
10 MAKEc
C! VI LIAM531,
NUMB-
/tI
AM) J 39J
t OIFRSS-
REGISTER FOR VOTING in Ann Ar-
bor, an applicant must spend his sum-
mers in town.
He must also be 21 and have some de-
gMee of financial independence, but these,
oddly enough, are the more easily attain-
ed requisites.
Proportionately, not very many other-
wise qualified students have the neces-
sary summer or two in Ann Arbor to
qualify for voting.
There are graduate students who work
and study around the year in Ann Arbor.
There are some students who stay in
town to do research. And there are some
who register for semester after semester
with the intent of an early graduation.
But most students leave Ann Arbor for
the summer.
IT WOULD APPEAR that in addition
enabling one to enter the proposed
bar on South University near Washtenaw,
a twenty-first birthday would entitle a
University student to vote in some im-
portant elections coming up later this
year.
But if he isn't in Ann Arbor this sum-
mer, he won't be voting in Ann Arbor
this fall, most likely. And back in his
parents' home town, local officials will
be reluctant to register him in their wards
-a boy who spends most of the year at
some university somewhere.
Blessed are those currently in Ann Ar-
bor, for at the moment of their twenty-
first birthday, they will be able to con-
vince the city clerk of their qualifica-
tions.
AND IT IS THIS GROUP, perhaps very
small, that will be casting the student
vote in future elections. They will join
other students-if, hopefully these have
not graduated and left town yet-who
registered for voting last spring.
It is this group of over 100 which is
historic. It is very likely that their votes
elected at least one city councilman in
the April municipal election. This group
turned out to be a solid third of all of
Ann Arbor's new voters in 1966. And most
of them affirmed their registration by
voting in April, unlike some new reg-
istrants.
It was their very real presence and
the votes they cast which affirmed the
Student Housing Association proposal
that student interests would cease to be
overlooked once students began to win
voting power.
Theirs were efforts opposed by several
municipal figures who saw the student
voter registration drive as an intrusion
into the life of the community. They dis-
puted the residency of potential student
voters.
THE SPRING registration drive has been
written off as a success by the sev-
eral groups which took part in it. Since
then, students have received increasing
attention from government officials and
candidates for political office.
It has been proven undeniable that a
studentry with voting interests in Ann
Arborhas the political skills to demand
attention to the problems with which it
it concerned.
TWO MORE registration drives are be-
ing organized. One, relying on IBM
information gleanings, is scheduled for
the early days of fall registration. It will
be massive and well-directed.
Another will be beginning any day now.
It will be less ambitious, and it will be
aimed at a small group: students 21 or
over currently living in Ann Arbor. But
with only minimal student attention, the
drive will be a success. It is unlikely that
the city clerk will turn down students
summering in Ann Arbor.
The summer residence requirement is
not really just. It is the product of sev-
eral meshing court decisions and some old
laws once in the state constitution and
now in general statutes. A statement
from the Michigan secretary of state
which might have updated things never
arrived as expected in March. Conse-
quently, the registration campaigners
have been bounded by some old rules,
one of which is the summer residence
requisite.
IF SUMMERS in Ann Arbor are dull, per-
haps it is understandable that so many
students leave the campus before May 1.
This may, in fact, make them dull.
But, if in strolling down the June Diag,
a 21-year-old student finds the Central
Campus Quadrangle virtually deserted, it
is really a signal for him to turn around,
walk over to City Hall, and register for
voting.
--NEAL BRUSS
a
'F
AA
JSJ
r
(
t
Spain: Students Lead Democratic Revolt
By FREDERICK BERGER
Last of a 2-Part Series
WHEN CLASSES reconvened in
the fall of 1965, there was no
time for a national strategy meet-
ing. The decision on whether to
participate in the government-
sponsored SEU elections had to be
left up to each center or faculty
individually. Despite lack of plan-
ning, there was a massive boycott
of the October elections, ranging
from 75 to 95 per cent at all ma-
jor universities. The hour had
grown late for a government-con-
controlled student syndicate.
The elected departmental dele-
gates of the year before then or-
ganized unofficial elections. Par-
ticipation was massive. In some
universities, notably Barcelona,
there was no longer even an offi-
cial SEU structure, only the de
facto Council of Delegates elected
by the students.
THE EXECUTIVE Committee
of the National Coordinating
Meeting decided in late 1965 to
begin the process of ratifying a
constitution for the new national
union. A set of principles and sta-
tutes was circulated during the
spring of 1966 among the depart-
mental delegates at the University
of Barcelona, where ten out of
twelve departments were totally
outside the SEU structure.
Finally, a Constituent Assem-
bly of the Free and Democratic
Student Syndicate of Barcelona
was planned for the second week
in March, and invitations went to
foreign national unions of stu-
dents as well as to all other dis-
tricts in Spain.
In the spring of this year, the
Rector denied permission to hold
the assembly at the university. In-
stead, the Capuchin monastery of
Sarria, on the outskirts of Barce-
lona, was chosen as the site. Only
the top leadership of the district
was aware of the site until one
hour before the Assembly was to
open at 5 p.m. on March 9.
T HE TWO FOREIGN observers,
myself and a representative of
the International Student Confer-
ence, went by car to the monas-
tery, where the meeting room was
packed to the ceiling with more
:han 400 elected delegates from
all faculties of the university. Ev-
eryone seemed aware that he was
present at an historic occasion.
Thirty prominent Spanish intellec-
ttrals were present to witness the
wvent. The, mood of the young re-
bels was intense and proud.
Statements from other parts of
Spain and from intellectuals who
dared not come were read over mi-
crophones.The representative of
the ISC addressed the body in
French.
THEN IT IS my turn to speak.
But instead, one of the student
leaders takes the microphone; in
an almost casual voice he speaks
to the hushed delegates: "My
friends, there has been a slight in-
convenience. The police have just
arrived outside and are demand-
ing that we abandon the monas-
tery and surrender our identifica-
tion papers."
A tense and confused debate en-
sues, but no panic. Everyone
knows that the police cannot le-
gally enter the monastery without
the permission of the Church, but
many fear the consequences of a
confrontation with the authori-
ties.
They know that against the mer-
ciless and brutal Spanish police,
peaceful resistance, as we know it
in the United States, simply will
not work. But finally the students
vote to disobey.
People mill about, nervous and
excited by the turn of events.
They sing "We Shall Not Be Mov-
ed"-in English. They organize
kitchen crews to help the rebel-
lious monks prepare dinner for
almost 500 people.
AND SO IT GOES through the
night. The next day, there are
panel discussions by the intellec-
tuals on art and society, on the
two cultures, o n architecture.
Leading Catalan poets read their
poetry. Students with guitars or-
ganize a rock and roll band for the
occasion: Los Constituyentes--un-
translatable, but roughly, the Leg-
islators. Periodically we look over
the wall around the monastery to
see if the police are on guard.
They're always there.
The Church refuses, under
enormous pressure from the gov-
ernment, to allow the police to en-
ter. For the first time since the
Civil War, the Church is openly
defying Franco. The Capuchin
monks are the heroes of the hour.
Word comes that the Bishop of
Barcelona has promised to send
in five truckloads of food, in defi-
ance of the police cordon.
That day, massive demonstra-
tions around the monastery by
students who have heard about
us are broken up by mounted po-
lice armed with 'clubs.
A SECOND NIGHT and the po-
lice are still there. We are becom-
ing resigned to months of siege
and isolation.
Then, suddenly, the police enter
the monastery at noon on March
11, after 44 hours. They have vio-
lated the sanctity of the Church
for the first time.
Everyone files out quietly, hand-
ing over identification cards. The
excitement is over, and the
threat of prosecution looms over
everyone.
The intellectuals and foreign
observers are arrested and carted
off for lengthy and punishing in-
terrogations. Finally, at midnight
two secret policemen accompany
myself and the ISC observer to
the French border, where we are
officially expelled from Spain by
order of the Governor of Catalon-
ia, though more probably by or-
ders from Madrid.
THE POLICE invasion of the
monastery of Sarria has led to
dozens of protest demonstrations,
involving tens of thousands of
students all over Spain. Religious
orders and other sectors of the
Church are now openly backing
the students.
The intellectuals have been fin-
ed a total of $48,000. On May 6,
the police arrested all the leaders
of the Democratic Students Syn-
dicate of Barcelona except three
who are in hiding. The university
there has been closed for weeks,
and students at Bilbao, Sevilla,
Valencia and Pamplona are strik-
ing in sympathy. Newsweek re-
ported on May 16 that "only last
week, Madrid erupted in the worst
riot to date."
THERE ARE THOSE who want
to believe that the Assembly of
Sarria was primarily a result of
the traditional separatism of Ca-
talonia. But the current genera-
tion of student activists is no 4on-
ger separatist, though it retains
a strong awareness of Catalan
culture. The students of Barcelona
are more unified and militant
than those elsewhere in Spain, but
as the events of the past two
months have shown, their achieve-
ments and tribulations catalyzed
student activism in all parts of
the country.
The more the leadership is per-
secuted, the more unified and mili-
tant the movement will become.
Those who are uncommitted at
first join the movement out of
sheer resentment against the arbi-
trariness of the government, and
once involved, become gradually
politicized and militant.
A LEADING FIGURE in the
underground Christian Democra-
tic Party of Spain recently warn-
ed me that unless the American
student community begins to show
an active commitment to demo-
cracy in Spain, the struggle will
fall into the hands of the totali-
tarian left.
"You have just as much right
to claim credit for this struggle as
they do. After all, an American
student was expelled for partici-
pating in the Barcelona meeting.
Will you Americans finally come
to our aid, after years of solitary
struggle? Will you contribute to
the fund for the intellectuals, just
as others in the world are doing,
or will you let them claim all the
credit? There is no time for hesi-
tation-whatever you decide, don't
ignore us any longer."
The 'Equality' of the Draft
You HAVE TO HAND IT to democracy;
equality in all things is its motto. Not
only is the draft a lamentable process in
the light of its discrimination against
poverty-stricken Americans, but is la-
mentable in its discrimination against
foreigners.
Admirable use of the "equal rights for
all" clause. The Melting Pot of nations
and all that rot.
A FRIEND of mine came from England
six months ago and, without a student
visa unless he returns to England, will
be called before his local Selective Serv-
ice Bureau in July. Because he has been
living here for six months and because he
has become employed, the hapless lad
has been classified as an employed resi-
dent who is not going to school.
Colonel Holmes and the rest of us all
know what happens to employed resi-
dents who are not going to school. They
become the employed tools of interven-
tion in a foreign country whose citizens
would sooner burn in a pagoda than die
on the bayonet of the Viet Cong.
The fact that my friend is not an
American citizen, and cannot possibly
become one for five years is of little
consequence.
OR IS IT? The friendly lady I called at
the Ann Arbor draft board didn't
seem to think so. When asked about the
justice of the law, she efficiently clicked
back that it didn't matter because "it's
the law of the land." In answer to my
query as to the justice in the law of the
land, she merely hung up.
Colonel Holmes, Gen. Hershey, Robert
McNamara, President Johnson and all the
anonymous men sitting behind draft webs
across the country evidently don't think
that the matter is of consequence. After
n , 1l 4 n+n n-n mn a 3w, snttnv f h v-ir 4
OR WOULD THEY? The history of that
necessary but regrettable institution
leaves some doubt. The standard set of
operations has not been altered in 15
years, since the days of the lottery. In
1964 a Pentagon Study Commission was
established to investigate the Selective
Service System and make recommenda-
tions on how it could be improved.
However, there was a war going on
which quickly escalated to lunatic propor-
tions. The war is backed by the admin-
istration. The Selective Service System
is the major tool in the war (whoever
heard of a war without men fighting in
it?). The Pentagon Study Commission,
by its very nature, is part of the ad-
ministration. The investigation was de-
layed: after all there is a war going on.
HiOWEVER, THE DRAFT has recently
become the object of harsh criticism
and pending investigation. It is affecting
too many people to be ignored. The bliss-
ful days of ignorance about its opera-
tions are gone. It's going to be a long,
hot summer, a long hard winter, and evi-
dently from official statements, a longer,
harder war.
The results of the investigation of the
study commission will be coming out soon.
There are many speculations as to what it
will contain and ought to contain: a lot-
tery, voluntary service, calling up the Re-
serves, etc.
I would suggest one big improvement.
When American citizens are marching
against a war which their country has er-
roneously waged, when they are marching
against their draftable fate, why should
a non-citizen be drafted? Why should he
fight for another country's mistakes as
the price for visiting and becoming an
"employed resident?" We ask a lot from
our allies, but the bodies of their sons is
A New Perspective on Film Criticism
10
By ANDREW LUGG
1N THIS ARTICLE I wish to in-
troduce the concept of film cri-
ticism as one of polemics. The
majority of film criticism, every-
where, centers around the ques-
tion, "Was the film good?" and
this question in terms of enter-
tainment value or whether or not
the film was "arty."
Film criticism Degenerates in-
to a matter of personal whim.
Hollywood extravaganzas are dis-
missed or praised according to the
role the critic dictates for him-
self. Likewise, criticism of the
American underground cinema de-
pends on whether you are be-
fore it or just with it.
TO GET AROUND this, to cre-
ate a criticism inclusive of all
these strains and exclusive of per-
sonal fantasy, the critic has to
erect an appreciation which de-
pends on a total view of the cine-
ma. That is, how cinema may or
does assert itself, not sociological-
ly, but as an art.
Paradoxically, it becomes more
difficult to announce that "L'An-
nee Dernier a Marienbad" is a
great movie, "art," whereas "High
Noon" may be good entertainment,
but it certainly does not aspire
"haute couture." I am not sug-
gesting that you should make a
point of seeing "High Noon" as
many times as you might wish to
see "Marienbad," On the contrary.
However, I will try to indicate
that it is for the same reasons
that both these movies are clas-
sics, and, further, that this com-
mon base is a criterion, which is
independent of art or entertain-
ment value, from which a criti-
cal appreciation should stem.
IN GIVING the common base,
we engage in polemics, and it is
here that discussion should begin,
most film theorists. The novel and
drama depend on illusion and sug-
gestion. The film works in terms
of free association. It presents an
imitation as does the painting
which requires a response just like
the painting, but now it must be
immediate. To be sure, this pre-
sents problems-for the future,
THE FILM lies in the regime of
feeling. There is nothing to ar-
ticulate. D. W. Griffiths announc-
ed that his cinema was to make
us see. I am suggesting that its
task is to make us "feel."
If this sounds mystical, "see"
it this way. The documentary na-
ture of cinema has been taken
over by the television (film news
is old news). But the cinema still
has things to "say" about social
problems. The point of view of the
camera dictates selectivity and
hinders its objectivity. As the film
cannot emulate the "White Pa-,
per," it must admit its selectiv-
ity and give to its subject matter
an aura of timelessness or, bet-
ter, universality. And, it does this
just by creating moods.
I am thinking of Italian neo-
realism, of Visconti and of Fel-
lini. For example, with Visconti
the plight of the Sicilian fisher-
man is the plight of the world.
It is this approach our film-mak-
ers lack.
BACK HOME, this limiting of
subject matter results in Coe and
Owens making "A Patch of Blue"
and "Nobody Waved Goodby." Bad
films. Self-exposed committed
cinema in North America fails be-
cause, among other reasons, the
directors are awe-struck, hide
bound,
If the cinema can make us
"feel" and it is agreed that un-
derstanding is superior to senti-
mental reaction, then the overtly
committed cinema is not more
committed than any other form
of cinema. Usually less so.
So, whether we are talking about
Hawkes or about Goddard, "Mar-
ienbad" or "High Noon," the es-
sence of these directors' art, or of
these classics is the successful use
of mise-en-scene, i.e., the ability
to create mood. Brunuel, the most
revolutionary of film-makers, and
Renoir, perhaps the most lyrical,
reveal their idea through the
mood, the only variable being the
form of the mood.
IT IS ONLY from such a cri-
tique that the Underground cin-
ema world can be discussed with-
out abject horror or hipster jar-
gon. For Andy Warhol to be in-
terested in bad camera work, be-
comes at least understandable.
Elsewhere, the best in Japanese
cinema, Polish cinema, and so on,
is judged by the quality I indicate,
and the test for the new Brazilian
cinema (there is one) and the new
Hungarian cinema is in the way
directors are willing and free to
handle mise-en-scene. And by
handle, I mean control.
What is mise-en-scene? It is
everything -,it is the complete
film, not only the images but also
the music, the noise. It is like
emotion: either you have it or
you do not. It is the "feel" of the
film. It is the ability of the di-
rector to create what Fellini calls
a new life. If you want to know
where it is, you have to "see" mo-
vies.
THE ANSWER, then, to "What
is a good film?" is another ques-
tion: "What happens to the
mood?" Is it consistent and con-
trolled?" If so, we are interested
in knowing how this was done.
Another Turn of the Screw
NOW EVEN THE semblance of
American aloofness and im-
partiality in the internal affairs
of South Vietnam have disappear-
ed, and the United States is giving
Gen. Nguyen Cao Ky military and
moral support in fighting his op-
ponents at home.
In Washington at least, though
perhaps not in Saigon, the ad-
ministration would have preferred
to keep its hands off the internal
conflict and to be regarded as
waiting dispassionately for the
verdict of the South Vietnamese
voters in the promised elections.
But the administration in Wash-
ington has not controlled what
Today
and
Tomorrow
By WALTER LIPPMANN
Vietnam while the preponderant
military and economic power in
the country is foreign.
INCREASINGLY, it is true that
the United States controls only
the ground on which its soldiers
stand. There can be little question
that in 1nnnrtin- aGen Ky we
ing good government in the thou-
sands of villages of Vietnam.
Although the situation is bad
and our entanglement is deep and
dangerous, it would not be impos-
sible, even now, to regain control
of our intervention to shape events
for a rational solution. But this
cannot be done by a President who
thinks that any course of action
different from the one he is taking
is "abject surrender."In the realm
of statesmanship, to believe that
is to be a defeatist.
LOSING CONTROL of the war
can lead to irresistible demand in
this country to go all out by using
.ir nnu + tora+ctr Noth Viot-
With a limitation of forces there
must necessarily be a limitation
of our objectives. Even if we fix
the military commitment at the
high level of 400,000 men, we
must reduce our present objectives
which are to reconquer the whole
territory so completely that Gen.
Ky's junta is able to govern it.
SUCH A LIMITATION on our
means and ends would not be
abject surrender. It would be hon-
orable in that it would provide
asylum for the Vietnamese who
need it or want it, and it would be
enormously significant in that it
would without fail set in motion
4i