The People’s Republic of Berkeley

But isn’t it nice,” coos the warmhearted lady from the League of Women Voters, who’s never read Marcuse, of course, but has discussed him. “They’re finally working within the system.” “Sure they are,” you mumble. “They’re working within the blasted system to get control of it so they can dismantle it.” And then there’s a polite uncomprehending silence, a withdrawal of recognition, as if you’d done something unmentionable, like pouring ketchup all over your cottage cheese and fruit salad and then shoveling the whole mess in with your fingers. And the talk turns to the evils of leopard skin coats or the higher level of consciousness in Charles’ Third Green Reich. And everyone simply refuses to see the significance of the April municipal elections in Berkeley.

In Berkeley, the cultural and political capital of the New Left, the movement has reached a crucial point in its seven-year history. For the past two years it has been weakened by internal ideological bickering, ripped by the suicidal drives of such factions as the Weathermen. “The period of ‘beautiful spontaneity’ is over,” said Herbert Marcuse at Berkeley in February, “because the movement is growing broader, and because the establishment is now immune to shock, ego trips and Stalinist political actions.” (And this last point is well taken if you consider, for instance, how little coverage the media establishment gave to the widespread violence on the Coast following the Laotian invasion.) The solution? “The center of the movement should be in local and regional committees organizing around popular rather than ideological issues,” said Marcuse. “Temporary alliances with certain liberals seem to be on the agenda for us.”

JR

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John R. Coyne Jr.

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But isn’t it nice,” coos the warmhearted lady from the League of Women Voters, who’s never read Marcuse, of course, but has discussed him. “They’re finally working within the system.” “Sure they are,” you mumble. “They’re working within the blasted system to get control of it so they can dismantle it.” And then there’s a polite uncomprehending silence, a withdrawal of recognition, as if you’d done something unmentionable, like pouring ketchup all over your cottage cheese and fruit salad and then shoveling the whole mess in with your fingers. And the talk turns to the evils of leopard skin coats or the higher level of consciousness in Charles’ Third Green Reich. And everyone simply refuses to see the significance of the April municipal elections in Berkeley.

In Berkeley, the cultural and political capital of the New Left, the movement has reached a crucial point in its seven-year history. For the past two years it has been weakened by internal ideological bickering, ripped by the suicidal drives of such factions as the Weathermen. “The period of ‘beautiful spontaneity’ is over,” said Herbert Marcuse at Berkeley in February, “because the movement is growing broader, and because the establishment is now immune to shock, ego trips and Stalinist political actions.” (And this last point is well taken if you consider, for instance, how little coverage the media establishment gave to the widespread violence on the Coast following the Laotian invasion.) The solution? “The center of the movement should be in local and regional committees organizing around popular rather than ideological issues,” said Marcuse. “Temporary alliances with certain liberals seem to be on the agenda for us.”