JEFFREY HERF
247
to be kept from political scrutiny, just as no aspect of political life
was to be saved from assessment by existential criteria. The best
political position became one which manifested the greatest commit–
ment and authenticity, measured by willingness to sacrifice career
and comfort. Those who were most willing to sacrifice for the cause
-often those who were wealthiest had the most to sacrifice-had the
potential for the greatest power over others. What was a sensible and
cogent political argument worth compared to the reality of someone
dropping out of school, living on next to nothing, and then being
willing to risk one's life for the revolution?
In
addition to the power of this totalitarian conception of com–
munity, Weatherman and the mystique surrounding it made us feel
guilty, small and self-serving by comparison. One of its most power–
ful aspects was its intense moralism which presupposed that the truth
had been revealed and that any who failed to follow were immoral.
The outward expressions of unbounded confidence, the ease with
which complexity collapsed into a coherent program, a camaraderie
between people who shared basic ideas and common dangers all com–
bined to place the rest of us on the defensive. Weatherman said to us,
come join and be in the vanguard of the revolution, if, that is, you
have the courage to do so . End your pointless, alienated life of on–
again-off-again political activity for a "total" commitment. To con–
tinue your career while the revolution is beginning is simply coward–
ice and greed . Start a new career as a full-time revolutionary and be
successful and win with us rather than lose with the cowardly rear
guard. As I said, I resisted the call, but I was not unmoved and felt
considerable guilt over not joining up. Were my intellectual argu–
ments against the Weather statement a rationalization for simple
lack of courage?
It
was a question thousands of people who did not
join the Weather Underground asked themselves in 1969.
More so than we were willing to admit in Chicago in June 1969,
Weatherman was a cult of violence . The first thing to be said about
this was that it was not at all the product of increased "repression."
In
spite of having caused havoc at major universities, no SDS members
or leaders were spending any considerable time in jail. On the con–
trary, it cannot be overemphasized that the incipient leaders of the
Weather Underground were flushed with success and self-confidence .
The process was one Tocqueville would recognize . Radicalization
grew at the point at which civil rights for blacks had improved; the
.united States was very slowly beginning to leave Vietnam; and the
intellectual and political climate on the campus ranged from the vio-
