£4t Sfri"an Dad1
Eighty-one years of editorial freedom
Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan

JAMES WECHSLER
Looking backwards... to autumn,

1972

420 Maynard St., Ann Arbor, Mich.

News Phone: 764-05521

Editorials printed in The Michigan Daily express the individual opinions of staff writers
or the editors. This must be noted in all reprints.

FRIDAY, APRIL 7, 1972

NIGHT EDITOR: ZACHARY SCHILLER[

The verdict at Harrisburg,

PHILLIP BERRIGAN and Elizabeth Mc-
Allister were convicted of carrying on
an illegal correspondence Wednesday, 16
months and thousands of headlines aft-
er they were first formally charged with
conspiring against the U.S. government.
Thus, barring a reversal on appeal,
Sister McAllister will soon join Father
Berrigan in prison. Berrigan, guilty on
four counts of letter smuggling, gets a
maximum of 40 years while McAllister
got by with only a 30 year maximum sen-
tence.
It is not enough to say that the con-
viction is unjust because an FBI inform-
er actually carried the letters between
Berrigan - then, as now in prison for de-
stroying selective service records - and
McAllister outside.
Likewise it is inadequate to point to
the fact that all Harrisburg seven defend-
ants escaped conviction on the conspir-
acy charges against them, which includ-
ed allegations that the group planned to
destroy draft records, bomb government
facilities in Washington and kidnap
Henry Kissinger.
REAL SIGNIFICANCE of the ver-
dict is that it in no way challenges
the government's tactics used to stop
those who challenge its legitimacy. In-
stead, it leaves all the defendants in a
position where they can be tried again

for conspiracy since the present jury
reached no verdict.
If the government and courts so choose,
they can seek the same conspiracy
charges with another jury and more of
the defendants' time and money will be
spent in defending themselves.
In cases that havetheir origins in such
far-ranging political questions as this
nation's involvement in Southeast Asia,
it is hardly sensible to pretend that the
issue is whether illegal mail was ex-
changed. Naive though they might have
been, the Berrigan group was militating
for immediate withdrawal and the gov-
ernment was trying to stop such action.
The government set a grand jury after
the Berrigans, spent thousands for in-
formers and dragged the Harrisburg sev-
en into - court for what amounts to
"thoughtcrime."
Q0 THE RESULT is that all that is prov-
able is that an activist prisoner was
taken in by an informer into using his
services as a courier, a rather incomplete
conclusion for a court of law. Perhaps
nothing more will ever be proven against
the Harrisburg seven, but their govern-
ment still seems willing to harrass those
who dissent.
Thatisnthe lesson of the Harrisburg
seven.
-MARK DILLEN
Editorial Page Editor

The convention
(Excerpt from a future
history book)
BY THE TIME the Democratic
convention assembled in
Miami Beach in early July, 1972,
the prospect of a bitter, intermin-
able deadlock had clearly depress-
ed and demoralized many of the
delegates.
In the long succession of pri-
maries none of the aspirants had
been able to assume a command-
ing lead. There were intervals
when Senator Ed Muskie of Maine
seemed to regain his early role as
front-runner but suffered new re-
versals in the latter stages. While
Hubert Humphrey edged forward
in some of the primary tests, the
threat of his eventual nomination
had intensified preparation for a
bolt under the leaership of Eu-
gene McCarthy.
George Wallace seemingly held
a key to breaking the stalemate.
He had steadily amassed a signi-
ficant delegate bloc - far insuffi-
cient to give him a serious chance
for the nomination but probably
large enough to swing it to one of
the other major contenders. He
insisted, however, that he would
release his supporters only in re-
turn for the Vice Presidential
place on the ticket.
AS THE DELEGATES converg-
ed on Miami. the long speculation
that they would eventually turn
to the man who had remained
aloof from the primaries - Sena-
tor Ted Kennedy of Massachusetts
-became feverish.
Kennedy,eunder mounting pres-
sure, then issued a startling an-
nouncement; it was a "Sherman
statement" in which he declared
his unequivocal unwillingness to
accept the nomination.
In that setting began a conven-
tion that some feared might last
as long as the conclave at Madi-
son Square Garden in 1924 in
which the roll calls continued for
10 days and nights, with John W.
Davis, a. conservative corporations
lawyer, finally emerging as ±h
"dark horse" choice on the 103rd
ballot.
Now, in 1972, the same situation
appeared to prevail after Ken-
nedy's declaration of unavailabil-
ity. All the candidates who had
participated in the long, gruelling
primary exercises were visibly fa-
tigued, irritable and in varying
degrees, intransigent.
While Muskie was able to pull
together most of the McGovern,
Lindsay, and Chisholm delegates,
the Humphrey, Jackson and San-
ford forces maintained their al-
liance. And Wallacessteadfastly
refused to modify his price --
the Vice-Presidential nomination
-for his troops.
IT WAS in that atmosphere of
frustration and frenzy that the
candidacy of journalist Jack An-
derson was born.
Many were later to claim credit
for originating the idea but the
most authoritative inquiries indi-
cate that it grew outof a bibulous
discussion among a group of news-
paper correspondents assembled in
a bar at the Fontainebleu Hoel.
And those present were later to
differ angrily about who first.
uttered Anderson's name.
In any case, what apparently
began as a saloon fantasy increas-
ingly took hold of the participants,
its fascination perhaps increasing
with each round. Before 1.mg it
had been agreed that the thought
would be transmitted to such var-
ied personages as Larry O'Brien,
'Chicago's Mayor Daley, ADA's
Joe Rauh, Sen. Kennedy, George
Meany, Julian Bond, Gloria Stein-
em and many others.
* * *

AT THAT POINT the conven-
tion had been in session for eight
days and nights, five of them de-
voted to futile, inconclusive roll-
calls. The TV networks had aban-
doned any semblance of full-time
coverage. Desolation and discord
had long been the dominant mood;
Washington dispatches reported
gaiety at Mr. Nixon's W h i t e
House.
Then, at a news conference on
late Monday afternoon of the can-
vention's second week, the diverse
Democratic personalities previous-
ly mentioned, augumented by a
large crowd of new recruits, join-
ed in announcing their sponsor-
ship of Anderson.
ALTHOUGH THE move at first
seemed the bizarre, almost capri-

"Do they really think the Amer-
ican people would entrust all our
secrets to that man?" Spiro Ag-
new asked.
The coolness was echoed by
some Washington journalists
whose dinner parties had often
been distracted by reports of An-
derson's latest revelation. "With-
out denying Ande:son's zeal as a.
reporter, it must be said that he
has never established any creden-
tials as a student of world affairs,"
one of them wrote.
President Nixon initially re-
frained from public comment; his
aides said he planned to campaign
without any reference to Anderson.
But one of them confided to re-
portersythat Mr. Nixon seemed
strangely upset, adding:
"He thinks this a whole new ball
-,.".*.-4':-,............
game -- and he isn't sure he
knows what game-plan this guy
mnay have."
The President was reported to
have summoned the Rev. Billy
Graham - rather than his usual
political counselors - for an ex-
tended conference.
** *
IT BECAME swiftly apparent
that' the Anderson caper w a s
neither frivolouis nor aberrational.
Ahs his runningmabeyAndero
assent the spirited young Gover-
nor of Flor'ida, Reubin Askew. It
was widely regarded as a shrewd
choice.
On the one hand Askew had
acquired large esteem among the
party's prgressives by resolutely
resisting the racist overtones of
the George Wallace campaign in
his own state. At the same time
the designation afforded recogni-
tion for the Southern wing of the
party, and especially for new, mo-
derat forces min many paces.
h.eimove clearl undermined
Solid South for himself. When Gov.
Wallace soon asserted that he
would "sit this one out." it was
assumehethat he was covertly pro
vidngthelp orNion.Askew em-
bodied a serious counterthrust to
the GOP's Southern strategy and
simultaneously won wide approval
among black Democratic consti-
tuencies.
THE NATURE of the Anderson
campaign, deftly supplemented by
Askew, quickly rattled the Nixon-
Agnew forces.
In his first major speech, An-
derson announced that, if elected,
he would serve for only one term.

Pointing out that his personal as-
pirations remained those of a cru-
sading journalist, he said, he
would be liberated from the pres-
sures besetting a Chief Executive
"who becomes obsessed, as Mr.
Nixon has, with the prospect for
his own reelection."
In an era when "politicians"
were help in deepening disrepute
among voters of all ages and sec-
tions, the declaration confirmed
Anderson's image as a wholly new,
different and independent species
of candidate.
His speeches further sustained
the portrait of freshness, novelty
and excitement. They bore little
resemblance to conventional ora-
ory; in his TV performances lhe
produceda series of exposures
rivaling some of those that had
made him a national celebrity.
(He had, of course, suspended his
column for the duration of the
campaign).
At one point, for example, he
unfolded secret Pentagon docu-
ments detailing plans for a contin-
ued U.S. "presence" in Vietnam-
on the day after Mr. Nixon had
pledged "total withdrawal" by
Jan. 1.
THE PRESIDENT could no long-
er ignore his adversary as the
crucial campaign weeks bore on.
Instead he began accusing him
of "irresponsible transgressions
that give aid and comfort to the
enemies of the American way of
life."
But many Americans apparently
saw nothing "unAmerican" in the
sptctacle of a candidate who vow-

ed "to keep telling the people
what they have a right to know"
and who pledged, if elected, to
end "the secrecy that has masked
the behind-the-scenes influence ex-
erted by special interests and the
military-industrial lobbies on pub-
lic officials."
By late October the Red Scare
had become Mr. Nixon's domin-
ant theme, and J. Edgar Hoover
was enlisted in the assault: But
Hoover's attempt to link Ander-
son with "alien conspiracies en-
gaged in a drumfire criticism of
oor institutions" was marred by a
mirthless reference to Anderson as
a man "lacking in respect or the
sacred American right of privacy."
Twenty-four hours later Ander-
son took to the air to rea0I confi-
dential FBI files that described
surveillance of several members
of - Congress.

ANDERSON had finally estab-
lished a commanding lead in the
polls in the final tw6 weeks of
the campaign. His climactic flour-
ish, however, occurred on Election
Eve when he went on TV for half
an hour to read - and 'rebut -
large excerpts from the unreleas-
ed, carefully-guarded text Mr. Nix-
on was to deliver, later that night.
It was a spectacular close to
an unprecedented campaign. Mr.
Nixon lamely and hastily revised
his remarks (feigning ignorince of
Anderson's coup) but he seemed
a beaten quarterback wildly fight-
ing last-minute passes. On Elec-
tion Night he conceded at a few
moments after 11.
O New York Post

*

The latest action plan

AFTER MORE than a year and a half
of dealing with the .ins and outs of
affirmative action plans, the administra-
tion has come up with their answer to
the maze.
President Robben Fleming announced
Wednesday that he will appoint a single
Affirmative Action Director to monitor
the University's equal employment oppor-
tunity programs for women and minori-
ties.
The present Commissions for Women
and Minorities would become advisory to
the director or could chose to act as om-
budspersons, Fleming said in a memo to
the heads of the commissions.
While the employment of a full-time
person with the sole responsibility to im-
plement and monitor the University's
equal employment plans might give some
long-needed direction to those schemes,
the form proposed by Fleming raises some
doubts.
THE CONCEPT of an Affirmative Action
Officer comes from the Department of
Labor's Revised Order No. 4, which sets
the compliance guidelines all federal con-
tractors except public institutions must
meet.
Editorial Staff
ALAN LENHOFF
Editor
SARA PITZGERALD ................ Managing Editor
TAMMY JACOBS .................. Editorial Director
CARLA RAPOPORT................ Executive Editor
ROBERT SCHREINER...............p. News Editor
COSE SUE BERSTEIN...............Feature Editor
PAT BAUER. .......Associate Managing Editor
LINDSAY CHANEY..............Editorial Page Editor
MARK DILLEN................Editorial Page Editor
ARTHUR LERNER .............. Editorial Page Editor
PAUL TRAVIS .. . .................Arts Editor
GLORIA JANE SMITH .........Associate Arts fditor
JONATHAN MILLER ......... Special Features Editor
TERRY McCARTHY............Photography Editor
ROBERT CONROW..............Books Editor
NIGHT EDITORS: Linda Dreeben, Chris Parks, Gene
Robinson, Zachary Schiller.
COPY EDITORS: Robert Barkin, Jan Benedetti, John
Mitchell, Tony Schwartz, Charles Stein, Ted Stein.
DAY EDITORS: Dave Burhenn, Daniel Jacobs, Mary
Kramer, Judy Ruskin, Sue Stephenson, Karen Tink-
lenberg, Rebecca warner, Marcia Zoslaw.
ASSISTANT NIGHT EDITORS: Mark Allshouse, Susan
Brown, Janet Gordon, Meryl Gordon, Scott Gordon,
Lorin Labardee, Diane Levick, Jean McGuire, Jim
O'Brien, Martin Porter, Marilyn Riley, Linda Rosen-
thal, Marty Stern, Doris waltz.
ASSISTANT DAY EDITORS: Dan Biddle, John Glan-
cey, Nancy Hackmaier, Cindy Hill, Jim Kentch, John
Marston, Nancy Rosenbaum, Paul Ruskin, Ralph
Vartabedian.
Sports Staff
JOHN PAPANEK
Sports Editor
ELLIOT LEGOW
Executive Sports Editor
BILL ALTERMAN............Associate Sports Editor
AL SHACKELFORD ..........Associate Sports Editor
BOB ANDREWS..............Assistant Sports Editor
SANDI GENTIS................Assistant Sports Editor
MICHAEL OLIN..........Contributing Sports Editor
RANDY PHILLIPS ....... Contributing Sports Editor
NIGHT EDITORS: Chuck Bloom, Dan Borus, Chuck
Drukis, Joel Greer, Frank Longo, Bob McGinn.
ASSISTANT NIGHT EDITORS: Mark Feldman, Rob
Halvahs, George Hastings, Roger Rossiter, Rich
Stuck.
Business Staff
ANDY GOLDING

The University is therefore not required
to appoint such a person, but seems 'to
have found it convenient to do so. The
plan would get the vocal Commission for
Women off the University's back and en-
able it to deal with just one person hired
by the administration.
Given that dealing with one person
would be better, it is still questionable
whether the individual would be placed
where he or she could be most effective.
Fleming chose not to give the position
the status of a vice president, saying
there is sentiment at the University that
there are already too many vice presi-
dents.
However, putting the Affirmative Ac-
tion Officer at tht level would give the
individual the clout a mere assistant to
the president doesn't have in dealing
with people and problems.
At the vice presidential level, such an
officer would have multi-pronged control
of many areas of the University. Affirm-
ative action officers have worked well in
industry, but experts have questioned
their effectiveness at Universities-which
are very diversified and, as is the case
here, do their hiring through many dif--
ferent offices.
THE PROPOSED ROLE of the commis-
sions is not very different from what
they do now - advise and act as ombuds-
persons for women and minorities.
But Fleming's plan should insure that
they'll have a direct pipeline to him -
and do not have to go through such an
officer.
All the work the commissions have ac-
complished thus far in studying the prob-
lems of discrimination could be for
naught if the new person is not willing
to listen or use their help. The special in-
sights of these groups should be given
the weight they now have,
Perhaps more questionable than the
plan itself is the way in which it was
proopsed. Fleming told the chairpersons
of the commissions about the plans, but
instructed them not to tell the commis-
sions.
Women and minorities have studied
the University's affirmative action plans
for quite a while; and they certainly
would have had ideas Fleming might have
heeded on how the new position should be
set up, if at all.
IT IS INDEED sad to think that the af-
firmative action officer may only be
more window dressing for an affirma-
tive action plan the University seems only
trying to get over and done with.
-SARA FITZGERALD
Managing Editor
Ttr -u

cious act of lost political soul;;;
some observers quickly noted An-
derson's assets. He was not only
the most widely read journalist
in America; he had become a
frequent, articulate TV perform-
er; he was more written about
and intervitwed than most public
figures.
And, of course, his name had
been associated with a long series
of, sensational exposures, ranging
from the "Anderson papers" -
the inside recordsof high govern-
ment floundering in the India-Pak-
istan crisis of 1971 - to the pres-
sures exerted on the Administra-
tion by the powerful ITT conglo-
merate.
At a time when public skepti-
cism about government credibility
had reached major proportions,
the 49-year-old Anderson was ob-
viously a voice of that unrest. He
was also a family man (nine
children) and a diligent church-
goer; he neither drank nor smok-
ed; hiscrusades against big busi-
ness machinations and Pentagon
lunacies made him at once accept-
able to the party's progressive
wing and to "populist" elements
in the Wallace movement.
The other candidates, by t h at-
time angrier at each other than
anyone else, capitulated without
a major struggle. While Wallace
voiced some displeasure, evenrhe
said he would "think things over."
The cam paig;n
THE NEWS that the Democrats
had finally broken their op-
pressive convention deadlock by
nominating journalist Jack Ander-
son evoked public disdain and pri-
vate bewilderment among the Re-
publican high command.

Candidates tryngto
u the organization
By TED STEIN
"IT'S THE YEAR for the politician who least seems to be a poli-
tician," Frank Mankiewicz was saying Monday as he flicked his
cigarette ashes onto the plush Milwaukee Inn carpeting.
"Right now, the voter is getting screwed. They key to winning
is understanding his alienation."
The results of Tuesday's Wisconsin primary proved that Mankie-
wicz - former press secretary for Robert Kennedy now in charge
of Sen. George McGovern's campaign - had accurately perceived the
state's political situation.
The primary showed that not only could McGovern's anti-establish-
ment protest in-the-Fred-Harris-mold could win, but that the organiza-
tion is the message.
McGoverneandgAlabama Gov. George Wallace were the two win-.
ners in 'Wisconsin because while politically opposite, they both came
across as sincere advocates of the "little guy."
WALLACE'S campaign
slogan of "Send them a
message" provided the
central focus for the pri-
mary. "Them" stood for
any of the forces respon-
sible for higher taxes and
unemployment, -and in .
general a mal-distribution
of income which the can-
didates all decried.
For Wallace; the Wis-
consin primary establish- .
ed that he could poll well
in the North, and must
be considered a contender
for the Democratic presi-
dential nomination.
McGovern's primary
win proved what he con-
tended throughout his
Wisconsin campaigning-
that his support reached
beyond t h e so-called
white liberal establish-
ment and embraced blue
collar, suburban, a n d
farm or rural segments
of the electorate as well. McGOVERN
On Milwaukee's South Side, for instance, McGovern beat Muskie
soundly in one of the erstwhile frontrunner' s supposed strongholds.
Muskie finished fourth. 12,000 votes behind McGovern. Only a
few weeks before the primary, political observers had conceded the
heavily Polish, Roman-Catholic' neighborhood to Muskie.

4

#i

1

WHEREAS WALLACE charmed Wisconsin voters with his charis-
matic folksy style, McGovern relied for support at his low-key rhetoric
on his tightly-knit organization.
Mankiewicz and his staff started a year ago to intensively canvass
and leaflet Wisconsin voters, many of whom were unfamiliar with
the South Dakota Senator.
"We did here in Wisconsin what we did in New Hampshire and
Florida," said Tom Southwick, McGovern's national youth coordinator.
"We took a survey of voters, and then sent a position paper to them
depending on what issues they were interested in."
According to Southwick, McGovern's organization aimed most of
its literature at voters who had indicated they were either "leaning"
toward McGovern or "undecided."
Why Muskie collapsed in Wisconsin perhaps can best be explained
in his failure to create this kind of grassroots organization. Muskie
had hoped to carry the rank and file by bagging top political endorse-
ments. But Wisconsin- merely confirmed the impossibility of this
strategy.
Muskie could not overcome in Wisconsin his reputation for being
vague and not providing concrete solutions. As Mankiewitz said, "The
problem with Muskie is that he doesn't have any focus. He's not the
peace candidate or the civil rignts candidate. Who is . he?"
And while his lackluster rhetoric failed to generate excitement
or support for the Muskie bandwagon, his organization could not
take up the slack.
IN SHEER NUMBERS of workers, Muskie was greatly outdistanced
by McGovern's organization. About 1500 volunteers - or ten times the
number of Muskie recruits-from outside the state campaigned for
McGovern in the final days before the primary. Muskie himself only

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