A

ctivism, no matter the issue 
at stake, entails sacrificing 
resources and effort in 
pursuit of some larger cause. This 
stands in stark contrast to ignorance, 
and an outlook that is of self-centered 
attainment.
By 1968, resistance of the New 
Left had reached its peak, and 
change on a massive scale seemed 
probable. Protests on a seemingly 
unprecedented scale had swept the 
traditional world powers — America 
and Europe. Traditional norms of 
political participation seemed to be 
shifting as well, with students and 
oppressed peoples alike asserting 
themselves like never before. This was 
the work of a new kind of culture: that 
of the New Left. And no American 
institution better embodied the ideas 
and practice of the New Left more 
so than the University of Michigan’s 
very own Students for a Democratic 
Society, or SDS.
I would venture to guess that few 
people on this campus have learned 
about the history of SDS. I would also 
guess that even fewer people know 
of SDS’s founder, former University 
of Michigan student Alan Haber. 
However, the political turbulence of 
a half-century ago and the New Left 
that defined it would be incomplete 
without Haber, whose activist work 
at the national level is typified by his 
founding and leadership of SDS, and 
his presence is still felt in Ann Arbor.
Now in his 80s, Haber has a lifetime 
of 
activism, 
political 
radicalism 
and community involvement on 
which to draw and reflect. But his 
story begins at this very university. 
During an interview with The Daily, 
Haber recounted how, like many 
of us, he entered college confident 
in, or at least accepting of, the 
political values instilled in him by 
his parents. Then, introduced to the 
idea of picketing during a campus 
protest, he commenced his, as he 
puts it, “deviation to the left” by 
helping organize an open discussion 
on a campus whose student body 
was politically dominated by very 
conservative Young Republicans and 
very conservative Young Democrats. 
His knack for presentation was 
undeniable. He claimed to have once 
set up a table in the Fishbowl for those 
interested in the antiwar movement 
right next to the table of a U.S. Army 
recruiter.
Listening to Haber speak, one gets 
the sense that by “conservative” he 
refers less to a set of specific principles 
about economic and social policy as he 
does to a rigid system of prescriptions 
for who should and should not be 
participating in the political process. 
At the turn of the 1960s, Haber’s 
disdain for conservative ideas of 
political participation was realized 
with the formation of SDS on the 
University’s campus. Increasingly, 
SDS became part of the national 
conversation that was repudiating 
much of the staunch conformity of 
the 1950s, and in doing so helped 
bring the idea of counterculture to the 
forefront of that era. 
Needless 
to 
say, 
the 
anti-
intellectuals of the day were not 
pleased 
when 
SDS 
and 
other 
elements of the New Left began to 
rip into America’s status quo. For 
racial segregation and unquestioning 
deference to President Lyndon B. 
Johnson’s foreign policy were, to 
the anti-intellectuals of the time, 
assurances 
that 
things 
would 
continue on as they always had. By the 
1960s, America was unquestionably 
prosperous, as both class mobility 
and wealth from that era reflect. Why 
should anyone impede that spirit of 
continuous material attainment by, 
say, distracting students from their 
work to have them discuss and protest 
the Vietnam War? 
This was the prevailing attitude 
in 1965, when such actions were 
taken by University professors in the 
nation’s first Vietnam War “teach-
in.” Supporters of the Johnson 
administration’s 
newly-escalated 
war in southeast Asia derided the 
professors leading the teach-in as 
neglecting their professional duties, 
while Michigan Gov. George Romney 
sternly issued a similar rebuke to the 
professors involved, claiming “(they 
were) inviting anarchy in saying 
that (they), or any other person or 
group, have the right to decide when 
an issue is important enough to 
halt the regular activity of a public 
institution.” 
Romney was right to defend the 
right of public institutions, including 
education, to be enjoyed by the public 
without significant hindrance. But 
with an attitude toward any dissent 
as hostile as the one unfolding on the 
University’s campus, how could the 
public ever debate the topic freely? 
And without the ability to openly 
debate the war its tax dollars were 
funding, how could the public ever 
claim the power to change its mind, 

to hold the government accountable? 
To change one’s mind, of course, 
is to gain understanding through 
instruction and thought — hallmarks 
of culture, and therefore unwelcome 
concepts to anti-intellectual thought.
In this way, the resistance of 
the 1960s embodied by SDS is best 
characterized as a reorientation of 
political expectations. The America 
out of which SDS had emerged 
could be classified as majority anti-
intellectual, disinclined to join or 
support any active role in dismantling 
traditional inequalities because these 
inequalities served as bulwarks 
against monumental upheavals of 
society. As evidenced by widespread 
views of the late Martin Luther King 
Jr. bringing his assassination upon 
himself and the Chicago police being 
justified in their televised beating 
of protesters, this sentiment had 
survived well into 1968. 
It was not just the public that was 
widely intolerant of dissent, either. 
Those entrusted to protect the liberal 
ideals of rights and civil liberties 
also seemed inclined to mislabel 
the rabble-rousers as unpatriotic, as 
demonstrated by lethal directives 
given to U.S. soldiers leading up to the 
1967 Pentagon protest. These attitudes 
more commonly associated with 
authoritarian regimes found fertile 
breeding ground in a anti-intellectual 
American public willing to trade 
truth for comfort. Subsequently, the 
very notion that the war itself was 
unjust was often eclipsed by the belief 
that those opposing it were the real 
problem. The fabricated myth of “the 
spitting protester,” and the extent to 
which American society accepts this 
myth as fact, is proof enough.
Of course, this is not to say that 
only those Americans occupying 
research fellowships in Ivy League 
philosophy departments or studying 
art history value culture. There are 
many who lead much more grounded 
lives yet still value ideas and embrace 
change that stands to better future 
societies — there is a reason America 
values self-expression more so than 
most places in the world. Nor is it 
fair to label all right-leaning citizens 
as anti-intellectual, for there are 
conservative Americans too whose 
opposition to progressive policies 
stems from ethical principles and 
not necessarily a desire to see all 
attempts at reform made subservient 
to material priorities. 
The 
true 
anti-intellectuals, 
however, were those Americans 
unwilling to see that what King 
exposed was not his own ability 
to instigate, but a deep systemic 
hatred that had long been enabled 
by onlookers who chose to accept 
it. They were those Americans 
unwilling to see that what the 
antiwar protesters had experienced 
in Chicago was not law and order, but 
overzealous use of force that was also 
enabled by onlookers who chose to 
accept it. These Americans, beyond 
those who were truly enthusiastic 
about 
racist 
and 
authoritarian 
policies, believed any sort of support 
for change to be too costly to anti-
intellectual ambitions.
They believed this, in part, because 
they saw their own participation 
in change as minor. You voted for 
the candidate you wanted, and you 
shut your mouth for the next two or 
four years thereafter if you didn’t get 
things your way. What made the work 
of SDS important was not necessarily 
that it fit neatly into what we might 
now label as “politically progressive,” 
but that it sought to challenge these 
traditional limitations on what should 
be questioned and who should be 
doing the questioning. As Americans 
have increasingly recognized since 
the time of SDS, this idea of constant 
political participation is a powerful 
tool in shaping governments to 
be more representative of their 
constituents. And though Haber 
has written off demonstration and 
confrontation as largely expired 
methods of participation, the gun 
control activists of Marjory Stoneman 
Douglas High School that Haber 
frequently praises illustrate how 
direct political involvement need not 
follow the often uncivil model of SDS 
to earn validation.
The incivility of SDS also illustrates 
how, even in activism, moderation is a 
virtue. By no means does moderation 
endanger activists, and others who 
value culture, from drifting toward 
anti-intellectualism. On the contrary, 
it enhances the chance of success 
by binding its adherents to logical 
principles. The tragic and violent 
path taken by some of Haber’s former 
associates in SDS’s late years as part 
of the Weather Underground serves 
as a fine example. Another instance 
is that of distinguished University 
Professor Victor Lieberman, who 
was a dedicated member of the 
antiwar movement while a college 
student in the 1960s and 1970s but 

has moderated his views considerably 
since then. 
Lieberman is not afraid to speak 
about his past radicalism — in an 
interview with The Daily he recalled 
how he held a celebration with his 
wife when Saigon was taken by 
Communist forces in 1975. Even 
deeper than the shared antiwar 
participation of Haber and Lieberman 
during these times, however, is 
the primacy with which both men 
characterized their antiwar efforts. 
Lieberman’s support of antiwar 
Democratic politicians at the time 
can be seen as a reflection of Haber’s 
broad efforts against what he terms 
“the whole system of war,” in which 
opposition to U.S. involvement in 
Vietnam opposed not only the war but 
also cycles of “domination, coercion, 
violence” in other issue areas, such as 
civil rights and gender equality. The 
desired transition from a “system of 
war” to one of peace thus manifested 
itself as support for national liberation 
movements across the board. 
The result, as Lieberman put it, 
was a “highly romanticized, idealistic 
image that many anti-war activists, 
(himself) included, had of the 
Vietnamese Communist movement 
— as well as the allied Khmer 
and Lao Communist parties and 
‘fraternal’ revolutionary movements 
in China, Cuba, Nicaragua, Angola, 
Mozambique and the Palestinian 
territories.” Today, none of these 
countries or territories are considered 
healthy democracies, and many have 
successfully resisted any guarantee 
of civil liberties or basic rights to 
their citizens. Admiration for these 
movements, then, should yield to 
nuanced and unemotional analysis 
if activists are to avoid supporting 
regimes that do without the essential 
liberal institutions we enjoy in 
America.
This does not mean, of course, 
that there is nothing to learn from 
the times of Haber and Lieberman. 
The struggles that activists fight for 
in 2018 may not be the same as those 
that existed in 1968, but the parallels 
are undeniable. There is no great 
overseas struggle uniting antiwar 
activists at home now as there was 50 
years ago, and therefore no universal 
American trust in foreign policy to 
break once more. There are, however, 
unprecedented signs of the U.S. 
president being held accountable for 
foreign policy in an era of rampant 
unaccountability. Images of civil 
rights activists confronted with 
cordons of soldiers do not circulate 
now, but increased attention paid to 
law enforcement abuses has resulted 
in increased scrutiny of police. At the 
other end of these issues, as always, 
are those who care only to resist any 
reform and all the good that may 
entail because staying put is the 
easiest thing to do.
It is clear that the issues and 
dynamics of Haber and Lieberman’s 
college 
days 
have 
not 
simply 
disappeared, and they are well aware 
of it. Their antiwar struggle failed in 
1968, as the Democrats nominated 
a pro-war candidate and lost to an 
ostensibly anti-war Republican who 
would continue the war for several 
more years. The lessons they have 
taken away differ greatly: Lieberman 
reflects on the antiwar movement 
as generating resentment among 
the majority of Americans, while 
Haber’s more hopeful takeaway 
reflects on how much more savvy 
activists are now than they were 
in his day. Lieberman now advises 
politically-inclined 
students 
to 
approach the types of movements 
he so enthusiastically cheered on 
with “neither fawning adulation nor 
unmitigated contempt, but clear-eyed 
intellectual analysis.” Haber speaks to 
how siloed and issue-focused activist 
groups have become nowadays, 
which presents a challenge for 
forming a cohesive multi-issue front 
such as SDS. 
The two men’s markedly different 
takeaways, however, do not take away 
from their respective prescriptions 
for those looking to contribute to our 
culture. Reflecting on their musings, 
current students should realize that 
when important issues arise — issues 
that are important not because they 
stand to bring riches or pleasure but 
because they affect lives — we should 
all resist the kneejerk calls of the anti-
intellectuals to dismiss calls to action. 
Living day-to-day or choosing a career 
based on financial considerations is 
no crime, but ignoring the culture 
we have built and attempts to build 
it further does a disservice to us all. If 
we can take one thing away from the 
tumult and violence and upheaval and 
loss and gain of 50 years ago, it is that 
no matter how we do so, we should 
strive to contribute to this culture any 
way we can.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Emma Chang
Ben Charlson
Joel Danilewitz
Samantha Goldstein
Emily Huhman

Tara Jayaram
Jeremy Kaplan
Lucas Maiman
Magdalena Mihaylova
Ellery Rosenzweig
Jason Rowland

Anu Roy-Chaudhury
Alex Satola
Ali Safawi
Ashley Zhang
Sam Weinberger

DAYTON HARE
Managing Editor

420 Maynard St. 
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

ALEXA ST. JOHN
Editor in Chief
 ANU ROY-CHAUDHURY AND 
ASHLEY ZHANG
Editorial Page Editors

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board. 
All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

Evolution of activism
ETHAN KESSLER | COLUMN

Ethan Kessler can be reached at 

ethankes@umich.edu.

T

he issue of gun violence in 
America is insurmountable. 
Following 
the 
mass 
shooting that killed 17 
at Marjory Stoneman 
Douglas High School 
in Parkland, Fla., in 
February of this year, 
acts of violence and 
their public protests 
have dominated the 
news cycle. To many, 
it may seem like mass 
shootings in America 
are 
increasing 
with 
alarming 
frequency. 
This notion is largely accurate. Of 
the 30 deadliest mass shootings in 
United States history since 1949, 18 
of them have occurred in the last 10 
years. Beyond the mass shootings 
that garner the public’s attention, gun 
violence in its more underreported 
forms casts a long shadow over the 
lives of millions of Americans. In fact, 
every day 96 Americans are killed by 
guns, and hundreds more are injured.
Few topics in American politics 
are as hotly debated as gun violence. 
While most people acknowledge it is 
a serious problem plaguing society, 
there are differing opinions on how 
to best combat the issue. The solution 
to gun violence is likely as complex 
as the issue itself, and there is no 
clear-cut method of putting an end 
to the carnage. Nevertheless, one 
facet contributing to the devastation 
of the gun violence epidemic is 
simultaneously glaringly apparent 
yet often overlooked: its strong 
connection to gender-based violence.
In the confusing and painful 
aftermaths of our nation’s numerous 
mass shootings, the most sought-after 
information is often the perpetrator’s 
identity. Many of these shooters 
appear to have little in common, 
and their motives typically remain 
unknown. However, the common 
thread of domestic violence often 
strings this group together. In 54 
percent of mass shootings, defined 
as an incident in which four or more 
people are killed, the perpetrator 
killed a partner or family member.
Violence against women is a strong 
predictor of mass gun violence. 
Before he opened fire in Marjory 
Stoneman Douglas High School, 
Nikolas Cruz was accused of abuse 
by an ex-girlfriend and of stalking 
by a female classmate. Devin Patrick 
Kelley, who killed 26 in a church 
service 
in 
Sutherland 
Springs, 
Texas, would not have been able to 

purchase a firearm if his domestic 
violence court-martial had been 
properly reported. Pulse nightclub 
shooter Omar Mateen 
allegedly beat his ex-wife 
and held her hostage 
before they eventually 
divorced. Though not an 
intimate partner, Adam 
Lanza was motivated by 
anger toward his mother, 
whom he also killed, in 
his massacre of 20 first-
graders and six educators 
at Sandy Hook Elementary 
School. 
Virginia 
Tech 
shooter Seung Hui Choi, Las Vegas 
shooter 
Stephen 
Paddock 
and 
congressional baseball shooter James 
T. Hodgkinson all had a history of 
violence or hatred toward women 
before their respective rampages. 
Recently, Juan Lopez shot and killed 

his ex-fiancé Tamara O’Neal and 
two others before turning the gun 
on himself at Mercy Hospital and 
Medical Center in Chicago.
A history of domestic violence is a 
troubling yet clear trend among the 
nation’s high-profile mass shooters. 
The connection between violence 
against women and gun violence 
extends far past the shootings that 
capture the attention of the news 
cycle, though. In the United States, 
women are 16 times more likely to be 
shot and killed than women in other 
developed nations. If a gun is available 
to the perpetrator within a domestic 
violence situation, the victim is five 
times more likely to be killed. In the 
average month in the United States, 
about 50 women are shot and killed 
due to domestic violence, while many 
more are injured. Around 1 million 
American women alive today have 
been shot or shot at by an intimate 
partner, while 4.5 million have been 
threatened with gun violence.
Current gun laws are supposed 
to prevent those with a history of 

domestic violence from purchasing 
firearms. One in seven unlawful gun 
buyers deterred from purchasing by 
a federal background check is denied 
because of past domestic abuse. 
Since it began in 1998, the federal 
criminal background check system 
has 
blocked 
300,000 
domestic 
abusers from buying guns. However, 
in far too many cases victims are left 
woefully unprotected from their 
abusers by federal laws. For example, 
federal 
background 
checks 
are 
only mandated for sales at licensed 
dealers. This means that abusers can 
still purchase guns by attending gun 
shows or from unlicensed sellers they 
find on the internet. Furthermore, 
most gun laws only prevent those 
with past convictions of abuse from 
purchasing guns. Many domestic 
abusers who already own guns are 
not required to dispose of them. Only 
15 states currently require abusers 
with restraining orders to turn in 
their guns. 
Gun violence in the United States 
is incredibly destructive. With each 
new mass shooting, Americans 
are reminded of the peril that 
millions in the nation live with daily. 
Beyond those impacted directly, 
the ripple effects of gun violence 
impact everybody. The profound 
psychological effects of living in fear 
of being shot combined with the 
immense financial costs of repeated 
shootings from medical care and 
the criminal justice system have 
made it impossible to ignore the gun 
violence epidemic. The manner by 
which the epidemic impacts women 
is especially harsh. The relationship 
between 
gender-based 
violence 
and gun violence is apparent, and 
it is costing many lives. Keeping 
guns out of the hands of domestic 
abusers would prevent countless 
instances of gun violence. States that 
prevent individuals with domestic 
violence restraining orders from 
purchasing guns and also require 
them to relinquish their firearms see 
a 10-percent lower rate of intimate 
partner homicide overall as well as 
a 14-percent lower rate of intimate 
partner gun homicide. Keeping 
women safe from gun violence is in 
the best interest of society as a whole, 
preventing 
dangerous 
weapons 
from falling into the possession of 
dangerous individuals.

ALANNA BERGER | COLUMN

Gun violence hits home

Alanna Berger can be reached at 

balanna@umich.edu.

A history 
of domestic 
violence is a 
troubling yet 
clear trend 
among mass 
shooters. 

ALANNA 
BERGER

EMILY WOLFE | CONTACT EMILY AT ELWOLFE@UMICH.EDU

