morning and followed me back to Cleveland. That is a terrible waste of the taxpayers' money."

Strangely, of all the heinous charges that have been leveled against Gus Hall in American courtrooms, the only ones that bring a flush of anger to his fair Scandinavian face are that he is not a fit person to drive a car in New York State, and that he had plastic surgeons work him over in Mexico in 1950, when he was on the lam from the FBI. At the time of the alleged face job, Hall had jumped bail of $80,000 after drawing 5 years from Judge Harold Medina under the Smith Act and another 3 years for "vicious" contempt of court. When he was caught and returned, "I came into court with hospital records proving I'd had a birthmark removed two and a half years before. That was why I had the scar. Not from plastic surgery."

When Hall talks about his prison days, his speech takes on a curious, punchy quality, like that of an aging prizefighter. "They took one look at my record and stamped me in the most dangerous category, and that is how you are handled from then on in. They put me to work in the shoe factory, and in a cellblock where most of the men were lifers. They talk about those Russian cells, but there was barely room to walk around my bunk."

You hear that same, punchy rhythm from one of Hall's top aids, Robert Thompson, a lean and crewcut man who, as an American Army sergeant in New Guinea, won the Distinguished Service Cross by leading his point platoon across a river and knocking out three Jap pillboxes on the other side.

And
Gus

Hyman Lumer, a mild-mannered little man who holds a doctorate in biology and is presently editor of Political Affairs, starts talking about his own term in a Federal penitentiary, lapsing into the same curious, punchy speech. then you remember that you are talking to America's political ex-cons. Hall did 61⁄2 years at Leavenworth, Robert Thompson did 5 years, 4 months at Alcatraz and Atlanta, Hyman Lumer did 18 months at a Federal pen in Milan, Mich. In those years when McCarthyism managed to turn the real Communist threat abroad against its ineffectual advocates at home, these men paid for the Communist victories in Czechoslovakia and China. "If you go up against the power structure," says Hall, "you learn that American democracy is not quite what it looks like on paper. Britain managed to survive this same period without putting any Communists in jail."

Any assessment of the potential of the left in America must begin from the rockbottom position that radicalism reached in the 1950's. "Just in the last few years we have seen a flurry of criticism of American society, the Vance Packard books for example, which sold a lot of copies," says Paul Sweezy at Monthly Review. "So far it has been criticism rather than solutions. So far the left, numerically, still doesn't amount to a hill of beans." Speaking a trifle sadly because he is talking about his own age group and its lost dreams, James Aronson at the National Guardian says, "I'm afraid history is passing by a lot of the traditional left." The relative weakness of American radicalism at present, says James Weinstein at Studies on the Left, is due "not only to the Communist mistakes of the 1930's and 1940's but to the successes of capitalism. American businessmen have proven themselves far more flexible and far cleverer than those anywhere else in the world.

"The time is right for the emergence of a new left," says Weinstein. "I am hopeful that it may grow out of the civil rights movement. It should not be afraid of being called Communist because any radical group is bound to be smeared."

Aronson expressed the same hope that "the action groups of the civil rights movement will become politically motivated." "The point we are reaching," says Kissinger at SDS, "you have heard about before. It is a cliché of the left. It is the point where a man wins the right to eat at a hotel in Birmingham but doesn't have a job and the money to pay the check." Kissinger and a lot of other radicals were worried while Kennedy was in the White House. "We on the left saw the emergence of a liberal corporate state-the intellectual hipsters and the General Motors vice presidents settling everything and reaching a consensus after a good dinner and a performance of ballet." Kennedy, in other words, was preempting part of the left. Radicals say that while the corporation executives are more at home with Johnson than with Kennedy, the hipsters have departed, and the radical left is thereby strengthened.

The pattern of left action in America is fairly clear by now. Its leadership group is the American graduate student. He is strongly encouraged to continue his studies by the fact that his parents can afford it, by the fact that if he drops

out he will be drafted into the Army as a buck private even though he holds a master's degree, and by the fact that at 25 or so he is the intellectual superior of the personnel officer who offers to hire him in an apprenticeship position with one or another of the Nation's great corporate enterprises. He is at this point a professor and executive manqué and is apt to drift into full commitment to the left.

"Where we went around to the campuses a few years ago we practically wore bulletproof vests," says Lumer at Political Affairs. "Now they really want to listen." Party leaders have spoken before 100,000 students on 100 campuses in the past 3 years.

The new working method on the left is to form organizing committees in slum areas and in the South, in much the same way that the CIO began by building dedicated factory corps in the 1930's. The graduate student moves in and, working overtime for a subsistence salary, organizes a troubled, low-income neighborhood around certain basic demands: heat and hot water in their tenement apartments, elimination of the rats that bite their children, a traffic light on the corner where their children play. What the left envisions is the emergence of a vast network of these community clubs outside the established American political parties, all of them demanding basic social change.

Translation of these community projects into major political power still seems far away. But the new strength of the American left begins with these two disparate but potentially powerful groups-the graduate-student intellectual who does not care to enter the establishment, business or academic, on the terms it currently offers, and the slum neighborhood to which he can give service and get power and prestige in return. Marx called these slum dwellers the lumpen proletariat and thought they would be of no use to the revolution. This term is now being batted around in the radical press-since Marxists prefer a catechistic base from which to theorize-and the revolutionary potential of the group is being sharply upgraded. The lumpen proletariat of the slums-the Negroes, the Puerto Ricans, the disadvantaged and unwanted-exists just as surely as did the unorganized industrial class in the beginning days of the CIO. Its allegiance is being bid for by everyone from President Johnson and Sargent Shriver to the Communist Party and Progressive Labor.

Out of this peculiar union of the disaffected-the student and the slum dweller-could emerge a strong new American left and, say the radicals, a new form of American society itself.

[From the Saturday Evening Post, May 8, 1965]

WHY I QUIT THE EXTREME LEFT

(By Philip Abbott Luce)

"If the cops allow you to speak, then afterward try to get the kids to follow you out into the center of Broadway and stop traffic. This will force the cops to come after you, and we will have our confrontation." With these orders from the leaders of a hard-core element in the far-left Progressive Labor Movement, we moved a crowd of nearly 200 young people into Times Square on August 8 to demonstrate against U.S. involvement in Vietnam. The demonstration had been called by the May Second Movement, a radical student group named for the date of its first demonstration and dominated by the Progressive Labor Movement. The police did not allow us to hold our rally. They broke it up with clubs and horses and 17 of our people were arrested for disorderly conduct.

The next week we headed into Times Square again. I was one of the two people in charge of this demonstration and, after seeing the huge squad of police officers in the square, I agreed to their suggestion that we move our 300 demonstrators to the United Nations under police supervision. As we started east on 47th Street, some of the Progressive Labor members, who had given us orders to create an incident the week before, came screaming up to me and demanded that we turn back and stay in Times Square and "fight it out with the cops." When I refused, some of them began to try to turn the marchers back and, en route to the U.N., 47 demonstrators were arrested.

These two incidents marked the beginning of the disillusionment that led to my recent decision to leave the Progressive Labor Movement. Quitting, however, wasn't easy. Progressive Labor, for its members, becomes a way of life, a life of excitement and direct action, of union with other young people who believe in taking risks for common goals. It took a conscious effort to pull against the magnetism of Progressive Labor, and even the knowledge that my choice was correct

hasn't made me feel any better about being cut off from former friends and "comrades."

Like many radicals of my generation and unlike the radicals of a generation ago, I have never been particularly interested in theoretical politics and the fine points of ideology. What moves me is a sense of frustration at the specific abuses of power and privilege in American society, especially the curtailment of human rights. When someone suggests to me that a citizen should work within the social system to correct its flaws, I recall a remark made by Henry David Thoreau more than a century ago: "How should a man behave toward this Government today? I answer that he cannot, without disgrace, associate himself with it."

I feel that instead of becoming a part of the system-and inevitably becoming an accomplice in its crimes-a man should take direct action on his own. By publicly protesting, he can call wide attention to these abuses, whether they are local, as when academic freedom is violated on some college campus, or national, as in this country's interference in the civil war in Vietnam.

I first met members of the Progressive Labor Movement in April 1963. At that time I had never actually belonged to any extremist organization. I had, however, associated with various leftwing groups and had already made something of a name for myself as a political rebel while attending Mississippi State University, where I fought the State's position on racial segregation, and later as a graduate student in political science at Ohio State University. In 1961, during the Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba, I had led a demonstration at the statehouse in Columbus, Ohio, and encouraged other "radical" activities on the campus. And in the spring of 1962, although I had since moved to New York, a Liberal student group at Ohio State invited me back to speak against the House Committee on Un-American Activities. The president of the university refused to let me speak on campus, and this in turn set off the largest free speech battle in the history of the State of Ohio.

When the State Department banned travel to Cuba and a student group formed to defy that ban I joined with 58 others-mostly college students-in going to Cuba. I went to Cuba 2 years ago with the express purpose of testing the legality of the so-called travel ban, and we came a step closer to this test when the Government indicted four of us for defying the ban. After a second trip this past summer, which I helped organize, the Government again indicted me, and I now face a possible 25 years in jail and fines of nearly $15,000 if convicted. No trial date has been set.

Cuba was a milestone in my political progress toward the left and away from the middle-class Taft Republicanism of my parents in Ohio. For me and my contemporaries, Cuba had the same revolutionary appeal that Russia did for young radicals in the 1920's and 1930's. When Fidel was still in the mountains, and I was a student in Mississippi, I eagerly identified with him and, after the revolution I endorsed the Cuban form of communism.

Fairly certain before I went to Cuba that Fidel Castro and his government represented the future for the Americas, I was convinced by the time I returned; and although I have rethought much of my earlier uncritical support, I still feel drawn to the romantic image of Fidel and the Cuban revolution. After I had thumbed my nose at the American State Department, seen the revolution at first hand and become filled with new enthusiasm, there was no doubt that when I got back to the States I would formally join a revolutionary group.

The more members of the Progressive Labor Movement I met, the more impressed I became with the group. At first appearance and even later, I was attracted by the apparent openness of the movement. Here for the first time in my life I met a group of young Americans, many of whom openly called themselves Communists and forcefully preached the need for a revolution to end the evils in the United States. (Many had been members of the old Communist Party and had left or been expelled when the CP disapproved their direct-action methods.) In addition, nearly all of the members and leaders that I met were young, vital, dynamic, and extremely personable. They seemed to have a freshness of approach to political problems and a frankness with each other that I had not seen or heard of in other far-left parties. Many of the younger people in the organization held widely conflicting views on political and social subjects, and there seemed to be little regard for set formulas and pat answers.

After our return from Cuba, our indictments and our appearance before the House Un-American Activities Committee, I spent considerable time touring eastern universities with several of the Progressive Labor members who had

been on our trip. We spoke to students about the travel ban and the Cuban revolution, and we told them about the proposed second trip to Cuba.

Throughout the country, working under the direction of the Student Committee for Travel to Cuba, people were organizing for the second Cuba trip. The Student Committee was formed by the original Cuban travelers and was headed by what seemed to be a cross section of the group. The executive committee was composed of five people, of whom only two were known members of PL. But as the year progressed, all of us on the exec grew closer to the movement and, by the time of the second trip, another member and I had joined PL. However, it was decided, for public relations, to retain the fiction that the leadership of the SCTC was not completely dominated by Progressive Labor. So those of us who had recently joined remained secret members.

While we were arranging for the second trip to Cuba, the problem of Vietnam took on more and more importance. When a conference of Socialist students took place at Yale in March of 1964, the national chairman of PL proposed to the assembled 400 students and young people that they hold a demonstration sometime in May opposing the war. The conference was the kickoff for what later became the May Second Movement (M-2-M).

We set up the national executive committee of M-2-M in such a way that Progressive Labor controlled it from its inception. At present a majority of the national controlling body of 12 are members of PL. But, as with the Student Committee for Travel to Cuba, most of the PL members on the national governing body of M-2-M are kept secret members.

We decided last January that M-2-M, although set up as a radical peace organization specifically concerning Vietnam, should also join in other campus protests; such as, the one that led to the riots at the University of California, in Berkeley. Although emphasis is still laid on the need for American withdrawal from Vietnam, the organizers for M-2-M are now busily trying to stir up student grievances on various campuses including Brooklyn College, Adelphi, Harvard, University of Cincinnati, and City College of New York. The agitators claim that since the college administrations are the logical extension of the power structure (the Government), every student grievance should be the cause for a student demonstration à la Berkeley. Progressive Labor speakers advocate student strikes, rallies, sit-ins in the administration building, and picketing as ways to get the students in a mood in which they can be led into a campus riot. Any issue, they insist, must be used to stir up trouble.

The philosophy behind all of this action among students and actually PL's basic tactic-is to involve students in a direct confrontation with the power structure on any and all levels. Progressive Labor contends that any young person can be made into a revolutionary if he is led into a fracas with some authority symbol, especially the police. If he is arrested, or better still, beaten and jailed, the chances are then good that he will begin to hate the police and the court system. The members of PL are constantly told that all police are the same and that all police are enemies.

This concept of confrontation has involved the members of Progressive Labor in various campaigns that almost inevitably created trouble. Although the press has exaggerated the role of Progressive Labor in the Harlem riots of last summer, there is no doubt that PL did everything possible to attempt to enlarge and extend the riots once they began. At this moment a grand jury is considering the role of Progressive Labor in Harlem, and indictments may soon be issued against the PL leadership, charging conspiracy to riot.

As I worked for Progressive Labor and closely observed its leadership, I become more and more disturbed over what was actually going on. Considered a part of the leadership, I rapidly discovered that one element in the organization was making decisions and taking actions of which the rank and file had no knowledge. This especially bothered me because many of my friends had become members of PL as a result of my urging and example.

I know that many young people join Progressive Labor because they believe in the philosophical concept of revolution. They are rebels and feel that only a complete change in the status quo can achieve real freedom. Most are idealists, but few have read much Marx and Mao, and fewer still are prepared to take any violent action against the Government. The fact that these young people could go to jail or to be injured or even killed as a result of secret decisions was a fundamental reason why I left Progressive Labor.

In my early, unquestioning enthusiasm for Progressive Labor, I had not wondered about such matters as the organization's finances. The movement publishes two weekly newspapers, a monthly magazine (of which I was editor)

and various pamphlets, and none of these is self-sustaining. Progressive Labor rents five clubhouses and three offices in New York City and is in the process of buying a school (for Marxist-Leninist studies). Salaries ranging from $50 to $90 a week are paid to nearly 20 people in New York City. One of the leaders, whose Progressive Labor salary is $50 a week, lives in an apartment that costs $125 a month and has a wife in college. Eventually, however, I began wondering where the money came from. Although Progressive Labor is closely alined with the Communist Chinese political line, I found no evidence that the group actually received financial support from the Chinese. Unfortunately, I still do not know the source of the funds.

While I was wondering about the question of finances, I discovered something that disturbed me even more. It had not bothered me that a group of us was actively training in the violent "defense" technique known as karate; this, we were told, was to "defend ourselves" against the police and other "enemies." But last fall I learned that without the knowledge of most members a small group had conducted extensive target practice on Long Island shortly before the Harlem riots.

Then I discovered two other things-unknown to all but a few memberswhich made me leave Progressive Labor and forced me to rethink my own political philosophy. The first was that Progressive Labor has a secret arms cache in New York City, presumably to be used by a special group in terrorist activity. My second discovery concerned Progressive Labor's plans to create just such a special group. In December I was invited to join a small number of the members-about 10-who would train to "go underground"—that is, to shed their present identities, leave home and family, and take on totally new identities. The people chosen for this project were to receive extensive training in disguise techniques, karate and the forging of papers, and some were told that they would be sent abroad to complete their training before they take up their new lives.

Ostensibly this group is "going underground" only in order to perform such functions as hiding the organization's leaders if they are being hunted by the police. But two inconsistencies are apparent: Why is it necessary to prepare to hide people who are supposedly not involved in subversive activities? And why should it be necessary to receive any training abroad? It is a known fact that various Communist countries run schools to train foreign comrades in espionage and terrorism.

I ultimately decided to do the obvious. Although Progressive Labor seems to be frank and open, I concluded, part of it is secretly planning sedition. It was not, however, until late January that I took out time from the frenetic life led by all Progressive Labor members to stand back and consider all the facts. Actual membership in this organization keeps you busy day and night with meetings, demonstrations, meetings, picketing, meetings, etc. And it is not until you put the pieces together that you see the picture as a whole. After I put all of the evidence together I decided that I had to leave the organization, and that I should try to warn unsuspecting members-and other young people who might consider joining Progressive Labor-about what is really involved. A month or so after I left, the Progressive Labor leaders heard that I intended to write a magazine article. Furious, they decided to expel me (even though I had already quit; I was the first Progressive Labor member ever to be expelled) and issued a press release accusing me of a variety of improbable sins. I still consider myself a political rebel, and I still support the development of a democratic leftwing in the United States. Moreover, I think that people who share these beliefs have a right to make their views known by public, peaceful demonstrations, among other ways.

But membership in a group such as Progressive Labor can only jeopardize the life, the reputation and the effectiveness of an honest leftist in a democracy. No government and no individual should tolerate an organization some of whose members secretly plan to launch a reign of terror.

Mr. PossoNY. And finally, I have two letters from the Stanford Daily. This is the Stanford newspaper. One letter is by a student who attacked Professor Craig in moderate language in connection with a set of speeches which were made on the Vietnam policy. Professor Craig, who is one of the country's foremost historians, supports present U.S. policy. I would like to insert this letter because it summarizes some crucial confusions as to fact.