lflDlCALISM

WHY RADICALISM, is one of the hardest questions the

radical student is constantly confronted with because the answer f

is usually personal, very involved and constantly being refined.

The Port Huron Statement, from which the following article is extracted, is generally agreed to be one of the best answers to this question. Originally published in 1962 the document acted for a long time as the manifesto of the Students For a Democratic Society in the United States. The principle author of the state-

ment was Tom Hayden.

e are people of this gen-

eration, bred in at least

modest comfort, housed

now in universities, look- ing uncomfortably to the world we inherit.

When we were kids, Western So- ciety was the wealthiest and strong- est in the world; the only one with the atom bomb, the least scarred by modern war, prime mover of the United Nations, and we thought that we would distribute Western influ— ence throughout the world. Freedom and equality for each individual gov- ernment of, by, and for the people—— these democratic values we found good, principles by which we could live as men. Many of us began ma turing in complacency.

As we grew, however, our com- fort was penetrated by events too troubling to dismiss. .

First, the perm-eating and victim- izing fact of human degradation, symbolized by the struggle against racial bigotry, in the United States, compelled most of us from silence to activism.

Second, the enclosing fact of the Cold War, symbolized by the pres— ence of the Bomb, brought aware ness that we ourselves, and our friends, and millions of abstract “others” we know more directly be- cause of our common peril, might die at any time. We might deliber- ately ignore, or avoid, or fail to feel all other human problems; but not these two, for these were too imme- diate and crushing in their impact, too challenging in the demand that we as individuals take the respon- sibility for encounter and resolution.

We witnessed, and continue to witness, frightening paradoxes. With nuclear energy, whole cities can eas- ily be powered, yet the dominant nation—states seem, more likely to un- leash destruction greater than that incurred in all wars of human his- tory. Although our own technology is destroying old and creating new forms of social organization, men still tolerate meaningless work and idleness. While two—thirds of man- kind suffers under—nourishment, our own upper classes revel amidst sup erfluous abundance.

Uncontrolled exploitation governs the sapping of the earth’s physical resources

Although world pOpulation is ex- pected to double in 40 years, the na tions still tolerate anarchy as a ma-

jor principle of international conduct and! uncontrolled exploitation governs the sapping of the earth’s physical resources.

Not only did tarnish appear on our image of Western virtue, not only did disillusion occur when the hypoc— racy of Western ideals was discover- ed, but we began to sense that what we had originally seen as the Ameri- can Golden Age was actually the de- cline of an era.

The worldwide outbreak of revo— lution against colonialism and imper- ialism, the entrenchment of totalitar- ian states, the menace of war, over- population, international disorder, supertechnclogy — these trends were testing the tenacity of our own com- mitment to democracy and freedom and our abilities to visualize their application to work in upheaval.

The message of our society is that there is no viable

alternative to the present

The vast majority of our people regard the temporary equilibriums of our society and the world as etern- ally-functional parts. In this is per- haps the outstanding paradox; we ourselves are imbued with urgency, yet the message of our society is that there is no viable alternative to the present. Beneath the reassuring tones of the politicians, beneath the common opinion that Western society will muddle through, beneath the stagnation of those who have closed their minds to the future, is the per- vading feeling there simply are no alternatives, that our times have wit- nessed the exhaustion not only of utopias, but of any new departures as well.

Feeling the press of complexity upon the emptiness of life, people are fearful of the thought that at any moment things might be thrust out of control. They fear change itself, since change might smash whatever

invisible framework seems to hold.

back chaos for them now. i

For most Western people, all cru— sades are suspect, threatening. The fact that each individual sees apathy in his fellows perpetuates the com- mon reluctance to organize for change. The dominant institutions are complex enough to blunt the minds of their potential critics, and entrenched enough to swiftly dissi- pate or entirely reform, thus limit- ing human expectancies. Then too, we are a materially improved society,

1 <

and by our own improvements we seem to have weakened the case for further change.

Some would have us believe our fellow citizens f e e1 contentment amidst prosperity —— but might it not better be called a glaze above deeply- felt anxieties about their role in the new world? And if these anxieties produce a developed indifference to human affairs, do they not as well produce a yearning to believe there is an alternative to the present, that something can be done to change cir- cumstances in the school, the work- places, the bureaucracies, the govern-

, ment ?

It is to this latter yearning, at once the spark and engine of change that we direct our present appeal. The search for truly democratic al- ternatives to the present, and: a com- mitment to social experimentation with them, is a worthy and fulfilling one which moves us today. '

Making values explicit — in-

itial task, in establishing alternatives ,

— is an activity that has been; de- valued! and corrupted. The convention moral terms of the age, free world, people’s democracies —- reflect real- ities poorly, if at all, and seem to function more as ruling myths than as descriptive principles. But neither has our experience in the universities brought us moral enlightenment. Our

‘ professors and administrators sacri- ‘fice controversy to public relations;

their curriculum‘s change more slowly than the living events of the world;

their skills and silence are purchased ’

by investors in the arms race; pas— sion is called unscholastic. The ques— tions we might want raised—what is really important? Can we live in a different and better way; we wanted to change society, how would we do it? — are not thought to be questions of a “fruitful, empirical na-

ture,” and thusare brushed aside. -

It has been said that our liberal

and socialist predecessors were plag- ‘

ued by Vision without program, while our own generation is plagued by pro- gram without vision. All around us there is an astute grasp of method and technique —— the committee, the ad—hoc group, the lobbyist, the hard and soft sell, the make, the projected image—abut if pressed critically, such expertise is incompetent to explain its implicit ideals. It is highly fash- ionable to identify ones-elf by old categories, or by naming a respected political figure or by explaining “how we would vote” on various issues.

Theoretic chaos has replaced the idealistic think-ing of old +— and, un- able to reconstitute theoretic order,

men have condemned! idealism itself.

Doubt has replaced hopefulness— and men act out a i efeatism that is labelled realistic. The decline of Uto- pia and hope is in fact one of the dew fining features of social life today.

The reasons are various; the dreams of the older left were per- verted by Stalinism and never recre- ated; the parliamentary stalemate makes men narrow their View of the possible, the specialization of human activity leaves little room for sweeps ing thought; the horrors of the twen- tieth century, symbolized in the gas- ovens and concentration camps and atom bombs, have blasted hopeful- ness.

To be idealistic is to be consider- edl apocalyptic, deluded. To have no

serious aspirations, on the contrary,

is to be “tough-minded.”

Perhaps matured by the past, we have no sure formulas,

no closed theories

In suggesting social goals and values, therefore, we are aware of entering a sphere of some disrepute. Perhaps matured by the past, we have no sure formulas, no closed

, not with image of popularity but with

L thinkineg adopts status values, nor

.willingness to learn.

\ interdependence i s

'man today

ABmL_5.. 19.70

theories — but that does not mean values are beyond discussion and ten tative determination. '

A first task of any social move- ment is to convince people the search for orienting theories and the crea- tion of human values is complex but worthwhile. We are aware that to avoid platitudes we must analyze the concrete conditions of social order. But to direct such an analysis we must use the guideposts of basic prin- ciples. Our own social values involve conceptions of human beings, human relationships and social systems.

We regard men as infinitely pre- cious and possessed of unfulfilled ca- pacities for reason, freedom and love.

In affirming these principles, we are aware of countering perhaps the dominant conceptions of man in the twentieth century — that he is a thing to be manipulated, and that he is inherently incapable of directing his own affairs. We oppose the de- personalization that reduces human beings to the status. of things. The brutalities of the twentieth century teach that means. and ends are in» timartely related, that vague appeals to “posterity” cannot justify the mu- tilations of the present.

We oppose, too, the doctrine of human incompetence because it rests essentially on the modern fact that men have been “competently” mani- pulated into incompetence -— we see little reason why men cannot meet withaincreasing skill the com l-exities and responsibilities of their sltuation, but for majority participation in de- cisionsmaking. ,

Men have unrealized potential for self-cultivation, self -direction, self-

understanding and creatiVity a

Men have unrealized potential for self—cultivation, self - understanding and creativity. It is this potential we 5,, regard as crucial and to which we appeal, not to- the human potentiality for violence, unreason and submission of authority. _

The goal of man and society should be human independence —— a concern

finding a‘ meaning in life that is per— sonally authentic; a quality of mind not compulsively driven by a sense of powerlessness, nor on-eywhich un-

one which represses all threats to its habits. Rather one which has full, spontaneous access to present and past experiences, one which easily unites the fragmented parts of per- sonal history, one which openly faces problems which are troubling and unresolved; one with an intuitive awareness of possibilities, an, active sense of curiosity, an ability and

This kind of independence does not mean egotistic individualism —— the object is not to have one’s way so much as it is to have a way that is one’s own. ‘Nor i c we defy man—- we merely have faith in his potential.

Human, relationships should in- volve fraternity and honesty. Human contemporary fact; human brotherhood must be willed, however, as a condition of future survival and as the most ap— propriate form of social relations.

Personal links between man and man are needed, especially to go be y-ond the partial and fragmentary bonds of fun-tion that blind men only as worker to worker, employer to employee, teacher to student, Ameri- can to Russian. '

Loneliness, estrangement, isolation describe the vast distance between man and

. . i . H l Loneliness, .estrangement‘, Isolan',