[This is Chapter Fourteen of Murphey's book Liberalism in Contemporary America.]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The New Left III

The New Left's Methods

              One of the issues that have fragmented the Left for a century and a half has related to which methods are both justifiable and effective in bringing about social change. It is not surprising that a variety of methods were used by the different factions of the New Left. We will discuss the Dadaist method; the "non-violent" method that was derived from Thoreau and Gandhi; and violence. We have already seen a fourth method: protest by withdrawal.

              1. Most Americans are not aware that the "comical" method that was used so effectively, especially among the young, by many New Left militants has had a long history within the Left. I will refer to it as "the Dadaist method."

              Before I trace its origins, we should first see how it was used by the New Left. The following examples, even though they will only cite specific instances, represent an extensively-used style. They should be sufficient to illustrate both the method and the intentions behind it:

              . A New Republic article in 1964 reported that Lenny Bruce "turned up in court looking like a bearded rabbi in the garb of the concentration camp."1

              . The Free Speech Movement at Berkeley asserted a right to use obscene language, which in turn became useful for its shock value and its symbolic shattering of what the Left likes to call "bourgeois" norms. Stanley Kauffmann reported in 1968 that the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation refused to carry an item "because it contains – often -- the words 'fuck' and 'bullshit.'"  [It is relevant to my later discussion of the complicity of liberalism with the New Left that Kauffmann went on to say -- in The New Republic -- that "I hope that at least some members of the CBC felt that this decision was a fucking disgrace."]2

              . In early November 1970, David Sanford reported from Kent State University that "last Saturday the Yippies staged a carnival on the famous Kent commons to raise bail money. They sold commie pinko bubblegum for a penny, fished for fake dope, threw painted rocks at paper pigs, and built a 10-foot penis out of papier-mache."3

              . The entire "movement" was seen as part of an on-going "happening" of "guerrilla theater." It consisted not only of startling behavior, but of a complete cultural identification. The outspoken Jerry Rubin stated the rationale: "We were a religion, a family, a culture, with our own music, our own dress, our own human relationships, our own stimulants, our own media... Long hair is communication... We longhairs recognize each other as brothers in the street... Man was born to let his hair grow long and to smell like a man... We even smell our armpits once in a while." He showed how much of this was acting for effect
when he said that "an event happens when it goes on TV and becomes myth... The presence of a camera transforms a demonstration."
4

              In his 1934 book Exile's Return, Malcolm Cowley traced the development of the Dadaist technique. "Tristan Tzara says that Dada was born in 1916... He wrote the Dada Manifesto in March, 1918... All over Europe Dadaist groups had sprung into being, and everywhere they spread the same pattern of childishness and audacity... But the history of Dada was in reality much longer. Its existence was rendered possible by a succession of literary schools beginning before the middle of the nineteenth century." It was then that Cowley quoted Edmund Wilson about the episode in which the French writer Flaubert had made love to a prostitute in front of his friends "without removing his hat or taking the cigar from his mouth." Flaubert's purpose, Wilson had said, was to "announce a furious contempt for everything held sacred by society."5

              Kenneth Coutts-Smith's book Dada gives the history of the post-World War I Dadaist movement. "The most obvious aspect of Dada... was a savage anarchism, a deliberate programme designed to undermine the moral and social assumptions of existing middle class society." Among many examples, he cited a 1920 art exhibit in which patrons entered through a public lavatory and were then confronted "by a young girl dressed as for her first communion who suddenly began to recite obscene verses."6

              Oddly enough, American precedents include Huey Long. A 1935 New Republic editorial commenting on Long's assassination said that he "used the manners of a clown to achieve his ends... He concealed his furious energies and hatreds beneath... an act of deliberate buffoonery." We have already seen the influence that the I.W.W. (Wobblies) had as a source of the New Left. It is pertinent that in 1948 in The New Republic Wallace Stegner described Joe Hill, a "folk hero" of the Wobblies, as having had "the poet's knack of self-dramatization. His whole conduct during his trial was dramatic...." In my discussion of the origins of the counter-culture, we saw the importance of Jean Genet's influence. Those of us who recall the tumultuous "revolutionary theater" of the 1960s will know what Robert Brustein had in mind when he spoke of "the boiling 'total theater' of Artaud."7

              All of this lent itself to an ideological characteristic of the New Left about which I have not yet commented. I have in mind the role that exaggeration played in the ideology -- a super-inflation of every American defect.

              Marcuse, for example, was capable of describing American society as one "which compels the vast majority of the population to 'earn' their living in stupid, inhuman, and unnecessary jobs; obedience and compliance from the victims of violence and repression...." Robert Theobald said in 1968 that "we have something like six to nine months to make visible the beginning of a change... If trends continue to develop as they are presently developing, we will move into a fascist police state in this country." Also in 1968, William Barrow reported in The New Republic that "the so-called 'militants' long ago gave up expecting anything other than efforts at genocide from the white majority." And the journal's own Robert Brustein, in 1964 before he eventually turned against the more extreme elements of the New Left, had described the United States this way:
"What has been the most characteristic pattern of American history? The commission of some crime, paid for with a hundred years of remorse."
8

              As a result of its method, alienation and ideology, the New Left, with a great deal of liberal complicity, built a fantasy-world which it then projected onto American society. The amazing thing is that it was all granted a prima facie plausibility at the time by the media, academia and public acquiescence. Those who opposed it had few avenues of expression.

              2. The Civil Rights movement made extensive use of the technique of "non-violent protest." The same method was later used in the anti-Vietnam War movement in the sit-ins and lie-ins.

              There is obviously a broad continuum of possible activity within what might be called non-violent protest. It can range from the normal processes of speaking-up in a free society to the mass seizure of public and private property. When it is carried to the extent of mass action that involves the seizure of property and the building of intense emotions within large numbers of people, it is properly considered a revolutionary technique.  This is, in fact, precisely what David Dellinger considered it, as we see from the title of his book Revolutionary Nonviolence.

              This militant, revolutionary form of non-violence has a long history. It is usually attributed to Gandhi, although Gandhi is said to have drawn inspiration from the United States' own Henry David Thoreau, who wrote his "Essay on Civil Disobedience." Sorel's "General Strike," in which all of a country's workers would go on strike simultaneously, was certainly in the tradition. The United Auto Workers' sit-down seizure of the General Motors plant in Flint, Michigan, in 1936 is another example.

              I have already discussed "non-violence" in detail in my chapter on liberalism's attitudes toward methods of social change. (See Chapter 8.) I made the point there that the advocates of non-violence are often willing to create the setting in which violence is bound to occur. In the context of the New Left, we can see that the seizure of university administration buildings, sometimes by people with weapons, is "non-violent" only if we are willing to accept the sophistry, which we heard voiced in connection with the Columbia seizure, that it is the police who, by responding on behalf of the larger society, commit the violence.

              The hypocrisy of so much of the "non-violent" movement is seen when we consider, too, that Dellinger's book Revolutionary Nonviolence was published in 1970 -- after the bombings had started and after a large number of American cities had undergone riots and mass burning. To extend one of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.'s, analogies, this is like continuing to shout "Fire!" even after the crowd has started to stampede in a theater. Thus Tom Hayden told how activists planned a "demonstration" the day after the Newark riot.9

            "Non-violence" is widely misunderstood by many who praise it as a method. The term suggests that the method is a mild one consistent with the framework of a free and orderly society. When "non-violence" is used on behalf of revolution against a free (albeit imperfect) society, however, and involves substantial coercion, violation of law, denial of public and private property rights, and a building of mass emotions to a pitch at which it is foreseeable that violence will result, it should be seen in a very different light. It then bears the same relationship to violence that gross negligence (defined in law as "doing something highly dangerous to others without caring") bears to intentional harm.

                  3. On March 28, 1970, The New Republic reported six bombings, of which three "were unmistakably revolutionary." A month later, Robert Brustein told how "recently, three young people blew themselves up on W. 11th St. with bombs, said to be intended for Columbia University." Brustein, who by that time had become an opponent of the extremists, spoke of "the atrocities being prepared by Americans in the name of 'revolutionary idealism'" [although, to show that he wasn't letting such thoughts go too far, he was careful to point out that the atrocities were no more than on a par with "atrocities" Americans were committing in Vietnam].10

              In September 1970, Stephen Solomon reported an "18-month wave of fire-bombings" at the University of Wisconsin. This had culminated in the now-infamous terrorist attack in which "an explosives-laden truck destroyed [a] building, [and] killed a young physics scholar." In the same issue, Albert A. Eisele wrote from Minnesota that there was "a deep insecurity and even fear about violence." "This was sickeningly brought home when dynamite bombs smashed the federal office building... and a downtown department store." Significantly, he pointed out that Senator Hubert Humphrey called on "true liberals" to "condemn criminality."

              Fortunately for Americans, the violence ebbed away, instead of building, during the 1970s. Terrorism, including truck-bombings, became  common in Europe and the middle-East during the 1980s, largely from the same types of leftist guerrilla organizations -- such as the Red Brigades in Italy -- that were beginning to form in the United States. A significant portion of this terrorism came from Soviet client-states such as Syria and Lybia. This informs us that it is a technique that is not unique to the Bakuninist-style Left but is also one of the weapons in the arsenal of the Soviet bloc. Although terrorism is also used by individuals and groups outside the Left, and is thus a commentary on the general level of civilization in the way that Jose Ortega y Gasset considered so important, it is a mistake to think that much of it is not related to alienation and Leftist ideology. We saw this in 1970 when Eldridge Cleaver, in a book published by McGraw-Hill, declared that "we have to fight a revolutionary struggle for the violent overthrow of the United States government and the total destruction of the racist, capitalist... power structure."12  

Liberalism's relationship to the New Left
              One of the factors that killed the New Left was that eventually even a good many American liberal intellectuals turned against it. Certain individuals and parts of the "liberal coalition" had been against it all along.  And yet, one of the more important facts to note in an analysis of the New Left, especially in a book about liberal thought, is the liberal intellectual culture's complicity with it. (The word "complicity" is not value-free and is not intended to be.)

              The New Left received vitally important institutional support from liberal sources. It is likely that without this support the movement would have been severely limited.

              Dell Publishing Company and McGraw-Hill published the book Conversation with Eldridge Cleaver from which I just quoted Cleaver's revolutionary comment. Ballantine Books published The Environmental Handbook. Simon and Schuster published Jerry Rubin's Do It!, and Warner Communications Company published his Growing (Up) at 37. Beacon Press published Herbert Marcuse's An Essay on Liberation. Doubleday & Company, Inc., published Theodore Roszak's The Making of the Counter Culture. The Left may argue that these are just examples of "capitalist publishers' being so venal that they are willing to profit from the attack on their own system," but a Marxist interpretation of that sort would be only partly true. It was the intellectual culture even more than the investors of capital in publishing companies that determined what was published -- and that then provided much of the readership, and consequently the market, for such books to make them financially feasible.

              We have seen how the Council of Churches put up $100,000 in Rochester to support Saul Alinsky's activities there. Jerry Rubin boasted about how much financial support he was receiving from what was probably university "forum board committees" as well as student government associations: "After some of my speeches on campus, the students would close down the school with a strike, or blow up the ROTC building, or riot. Meanwhile, I was being paid $500 to $1,000 from the official student organization for giving the speech." I myself resigned from the Wichita State University Forum Board Committee in protest over its funding of an on-campus showing of revolutionary films featuring Angela Davis. In July 1968, Paul Marx told
the readers of The New Republic that many of the "community action organizations" established by the Johnson administration as part of its War on Poverty "have on their payrolls radicals who advocate tearing down the whole society."
13

              But even more important was the moral support given by the liberal intellectual culture. This is readily seen in the The New Republic. Following the seizure of the chief administration building on the Berkeley campus in December 1964, a New Republic editorial applauded the students. In July 1965, D. W. Brogam reported in a review of Michael Harrington's The Accidental Century that "Mr. Harrington is afraid not that we will be faced with a revolutionary situation, but that we won't, that the unemployed... will be... docile." After The New Republic ran a series of "personal statements" by "young radicals" in late 1965, Harrington commented that "whatever their shortcomings, the New Leftists hold out the hope for a renewal of
American social criticism and action." In January 1967, Stanley Kauffmann wrote that "a good deal of the Young Generation's behavior is admirable and promising, much of it is at least comprehensible, and most of it is preferable to the torpor that prevailed in the Eisenhower years."
14

              The first strong denunciation in The New Republic appeared in an editorial on August 5, 1967, which said that "'Burn this town down' is the shout of the angry, exalted young Brown Shirt… it leads to madness.”  Thereafter, we might expect to have seen a consistent opposition by the editors to at least the more extreme part of the New Left. This is especially so since the editors clearly perceived the danger; in July 1968, they said that "as in the pre-Civil War period, the American political system may not be able to withstand the strains put upon it. One can foresee the possibility that our major parties may again be incapable of containing violent pressures from below, that the government elected in November may be impotent and our internal conflicts irreconcilable."15

              Despite this awareness, it was just two months later, in September 1968, that Kauffmann made his statement about a decision by the Canadian Broadcasting System being a "fucking disgrace," language that must certainly have been intended to show his and The New Republic's "solidarity" with the very movement the editors saw threatening civil war. In the following issue, an article by Marcus Raskin bitterly denounced Democratic liberalism as having "transformed the society into an authoritarian one which stood on the legs of the labor bosses, the large corporations, the military and the city bosses."16

              In April 1969, an editorial described the seizure of University Hall at Harvard. It followed the usual line of blaming the police for the ensuing violence, saying they "went berserk." A few pages later, an author wrote that "even when they strike out in apparently un-American directions -- tribal living and doped mysticism ...-- they do so in the pioneer spirit of discovery." Then a couple of weeks later the editors supplied their apologia for "the decision of black militants at Cornell to bring guns into Willard Straight Hall," saying, as we saw earlier, that they "had their reasons for thinking they might need to defend themselves...."17

              Even after the editors began to denounce the revolutionary movement with somewhat more genuine feeling, as they finally did in November 1969, and they said that "those who preach or practice violence in this country are nihilists and fools," they were willing to run an advertisement for Ramparts in April 1970 that said that "the students at Santa Barbara who burned down the Bank of America probably did more to save the environment than all of the Teach-Ins and Survival Fairs put together." And in 1972 the editors were appalled that "there is persuasive evidence that the FBI undertook a massive surveillance program to keep tabs on most of the dissident political groups...." They thought it reprehensible that the main society should protect itself, even by surveillance, against what they themselves had thought was an impending civil war.18

              The relationship of the intellectual culture to the New Left, as illustrated by these examples (and by countless others that could be given from many sources and from the memories of those who lived through the period), was similar to its relationship to the Communist Left during the 1930s. During both periods there was just enough ambivalence to allow liberal intellectuals to keep a foot planted at least shakily in the American context. But both decades provide windows into the depths of the alienation and of the liberal intellectual culture's identification even with totalitarian forms of socialist thought. Jane Fonda's trip to Hanoi while American forces were fighting in Vietnam was more than the isolated action of an opinionated but talented
actress; it symbolizes how profound the complicity became. This is magnified by the fact that even today most liberals do not acknowledge it as complicity.

The host culture
              We cannot fully understand the New Left, however, unless we fathom the weakness of the main culture. A medical analogy is appropriate: If the antibodies had been strong enough, the disease would never have become virulent.   The series of books of which this is the final volume has largely been an effort to explain that weakness. I have elaborated upon both the peculiar nature of modern intellectual culture and upon the essential "infancy" and "immaturity" of humanity even during the modern age. As I grow older, I see nothing to contradict the analysis I made of that immaturity in Understanding the Modern Predicament. (I would remind the reader, of course, that I hold to a mixed, rather than to an Augustinian or Hobbesian negative, view of human nature.)

              One of the more important weaknesses of American society during the period was, of course, the continuing failure of a "bourgeois" culture to generate a sufficient intellectual culture to (a) give its fundamental values a voice and (b) provide it with the constructive criticism that it will always need. It is this void that created the "silent majority." Tens of millions of people had no bent toward, nor means of, articulating ideas in support of American society during the years of the onslaught.

              This gave rise, in turn, to several additional phenomena: One was that, hearing only the exaggerated drumbeat of the Left, a great many average Americans, including especially the young, grew spongy in their commitment to values that have been of the utmost importance to the classical liberal underlay that has sustained American freedom. Another was the mechanism I have already mentioned: that the New Left could count on an articulated moralistic response from the media and academia even for the worst outrages, while the representatives of the main society were subject to derision. Much of the activity of the New Left would have fallen totally flat without this mechanism.

              A third effect was the impact on American foreign policy and the conduct of the war in Vietnam. Fifty-five thousand young Americans died in a war for which the true purpose, which was anti-Communist, was not articulated even by American presidents until it was almost over. It was the division internally within the United States, and not the prowess of the North Vietnamese on the battlefield, that caused the United States to lose the war. (I say "lose the war" advisedly. The delay from 1945 to 1975 that the French and American resistance caused in Communist expansion almost certainly prevented a victory by Communism throughout Southeast Asia. It was during that period that the Indonesians overthrew a Communist-dominated regime, and the delay gave Thailand and India many valuable years of respite. Unfortunately, the "dominoes" did fall in Laos
and Cambodia, leading to a holocaust which in terms of percentage of the population outdid the enormities of Hitler, Stalin and Mao. When liberals even today point out how "the dominoes didn't fall" after the collapse of South Vietnam, seeking thereby to prove how right they were in their condemnation of the war as an unnecessary intervention by the United States, they are guilty of the most unspeakable moral obtuseness, since they are willfully ignoring this holocaust.)

              In addition to the failure of "bourgeois" society to generate an intellectual culture appropriate to itself, we must look to the spiritual-intellectual weakness of the average person in American society. (A book could be written, of course, about the splendid qualities of this same average person, since weakness is only part of the story; but it is weakness that is relevant to an analysis of problems.)

              The counter-culture in particular drew upon the hedonism, the moral shallowness and the lack of roots in twentieth century America. It was a strange mixture, this combination of drugs and sex, overweening moral sensibility and outrage, and pretentious mouthing of Leftist cliches and slogans. These were people to whom it meant nothing that the raised clenched fist had been a Communist symbol in countless parts of the world for half a century or that the slogan "All power to the people" was a direct pick-up of the Leninist slogan "All power to the soviets." It turned out that shallow hedonists make bad revolutionaries. What is very little acknowledged is that they also make bad citizens of a free society.

              This is the mentality that has lent itself to the many fads of ideology. Nothing has been able to stand in their way, thus verifying Alexis de Tocqueville's observation a century and a half ago that there is nothing quite so omnipresent and suffocating as majority opinion in a democracy. The fads have been both large and small, and have usually been formed of a mixture of fatuous ideology and hedonistic self-interest. While a fad is "in" there is no truth that can be put up against it; everything outside it is written off as outmoded and, worse, as a sign of bigotry. (It is now considered "sexist" -- a new slogan -- to use the pronoun "he" to designate a person of unspecified sex.) It is no wonder that Ben Wattenberg could exclaim in 1970: "Crisis. Crisis. Crisis. That so very much of this is preposterous... should come as no real surprise to those who follow the fads of crisis
in America."
19

              The spring of 1970, when Wattenberg made his remark, was no doubt among the worst periods for it. But in general we can say that we breathe a neurotic atmosphere. Public discourse is reduced to what will fit the fixation of the moment, and the media so penetrate our lives with all of this that the content of private existence is profoundly discolored. What is worse, the great positive values of high civilization are all but forgotten in the ubiquitous wash of mediocre music, mediocre theater, mediocre television, mediocre writing, incomprehensible art. Technique is everywhere valued, but without aesthetic judgment. The intellectual culture's anti-bourgeois values come together with the public's disregard for taste to produce, what? -- the zoot-suiter of the 1940s, the beads and bell-bottoms of the 1960s, the shaved temples of the punk-rockers of the 1980s, and a public that smiles indulgently upon it all.

              Our affluence makes possible an ever-increasing quantity of everything, and productions of all kinds are done on a scale that would have dazzled earlier generations. Fortunately, a lot of good work, and even some great and memorable work, is done as part of the sheer volume. It would be an amazing fact that would itself require explanation if so many millions of people, trained so highly in technique, were not to allow some real sensibility to shine through a certain fraction of the time. And, too, there are individuals who separate themselves from the flood. It is not, however, the good or the great work that sets the tone of contemporary culture.

              This vacuity translates, too, into a willingness of Americans to allow themselves to be "used" by movements that they do not bother to understand. Irving Howe spoke of "a kind of complicity [that is] set up between the outraged and/or amused urban middle class and the rebels of sensation." This lays the foundation for political and social instability such as we saw during the 1960s and could see again.20
The continuing residuals and effects of the New Left

              Virtually all the factors I have discussed are present, some of them at a muted level, today. The great question is what is happening within the intellectual culture. The alienation still burns within a good many, especially among the academic Marxists, but in the 1980s the overall tone was quieter, more accepting, than it was at any time in my lifetime. (It is a mistake to think the intellectual culture was quiescent in the 1950s; it wasn't.  It burned with alienation while I was on the Colorado University campus between 1951 and 1954.)

              The New Left's slashing attacks on the "Establishment" and on "interest-group liberalism," together with the "do your own thing" combination of hedonism and anarchist ideology, set the stage, paradoxically enough, for liberalism's loss of faith in itself, for the questioning of the assumption that a government program is the solution to all problems, and for the success of conservatism in the 1980s (a success that was probably delayed by Watergate). What no amount of conservative warning and exhortation could accomplish, the New Left brought about in a flood. It would be too much to say that the Reagan and Bush administrations were "residuals" of the New Left, but they are certainly among the "effects."

              The main "residuals" we see today are cultural. There has been an evangelical Christian movement against pornography, say, but it has barely been able to dent the public's apparent desire to acquiesce in, and even to encourage, the cultural slide. Dress and entertainment continue to show the influences of the 1960s.

              There are conservative authors who purport to see a great conservative intellectual resurgence. If there is one, I (writing first in 1986 and then in 1991) do not see it, other than marginally.  [Note in 2002: By the turn of the century, “free market” thinking had come to prevail as a worldwide ethos among the leadership.  At the same time, a heavy blanket of ideological “political correctness” hangs over everything, and most significantly over any expression of opposition to the flood of immigration that bodes well to doom Euro-American civilization.  “Conservatism” itself has ceased to be a “movement,” being fragmented into many pieces.  If indeed there is any intellectual renaissance, it remains less than visible.]   And the failure of
conservatism, most particularly in the form of a renewed classical liberalism, to light a fire in the minds especially of the young means that the problematic nature of "bourgeois civilization" remains uncorrected. Without intellectual ferment on behalf of the values of the main society, the Reagan presidency is almost certainly bound to have been an interregnum based upon circumstance and a remarkable personality. Where we are going is an open question formed out of the weakness of both the Left and the Right and the indifference of a practical, life-absorbed people, a people that is rapidly changing in its composition. This is a theme upon which I have touched before, but that deserves reiteration.

              During the years since the first edition of this book appeared, liberalism's multiculturalist attack on mainstream society has grown in force. It is especially dangerous since long-term demographic trends offer to strengthen it during the years ahead. The alienation may yet win by swamping out the culture it hates so much.    

ENDNOTES

1. New Republic, September 12, 1964, p. 13.

2. New Republic, September 21, 1968, p. 42.

3. New Republic, November 7, 1970, p. 17.

4. Jerry Rubin, Do It! (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1970),  pp. 55, 93, 97, 107.

5. Malcolm Cowley, Exile's Return: a Narrative of Ideas (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1934), pp. 148, 151.

6. Kenneth Coutts-Smith, Dada (New York: E. P. Dutton and Co., Inc., 1970), pp. 22, 116-117.

7. New Republic, September 18, 1935, p. 146; New Republic, January 5, 1948, p. 24; New Republic, January 22, 1966, p. 24.

8. Herbert Marcuse, An Essay on Liberation (Boston: Beacon Press, 1969), p. 62; Robert Theobald, An Alternative Future for America (Chicago: Swallow Press, 1968), pp. 47, 48; New Republic, April 20, 1968, p. 13; New Republic, October 31, 1964, p. 85.

9. Tom Hayden, Rebellion in Newark (New York: Random House, 1967), pp. 24-25.

10. New Republic, March 28, 1970, p. 5; New Republic, April 25, 1970, p. 30.

11. New Republic, September 19, 1970, pp. 12, 19.

12. Lee Lockwood, Conversation with Eldridge Cleaver/Algiers (New York: Delta Books, 1970), p. 54.

13. Jerry Rubin, Growing (Up) at 37 (New York: Warner Books, 1976), p. 90; New Republic, July 6, 1968, p. 31.

14. New Republic, March 27, 1965, p. 6; New Republic, July 24, 1965, p. 26; New Republic, February 19, 1966, p. 20; New Republic, January 28, 1967, p. 26.

15. New Republic, August 5, 1967, p. 6; New Republic, July 27, 1968.

16. New Republic, September 21, 1968, p. 42; New Republic, September 28, 1968, p. 17.

17. New Republic, April 26, 1969, pp. 6, 21; New Republic, May 3, 1969, p. 5.

18. New Republic, November 15, 1969, p. 9; New Republic, April 18, 1970, p. 5; New Republic, January 29, 1972, p. 11.

19. New Republic, April 4, 1970, p. 18.

20. Irving Howe, Steady Work: Essays in the Politics of Democratic Radicalism, 1953-1966 (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1966), p. 59.