By Pamela Geller
It was clear from the outset, that the “student revolution’ violently ushered in at Berkeley in the mid-sixties would come to this. The left is evil and they mean to destroy our way of life, our freedom and us.
Apparently the left have picked up on their Muslim supremacists partners calls for beheadings.
“Various pieces of campus property have been vandalized with death threats against BCR. The graffiti, which has been found in spaces like the Unit 1 Housing sign and a pole by Crossroads, includes messages such as “KILL BCR,” “BEHEAD THE B.C.R.’s” and “LYNCH the B.C.R.’s.” Recently, the group has had its contact list stolen a nd signs destroyed. Members of the BCR contact list have also been sent harassing emails by anonymous senders. (Daily Californian)
VANDAL CALLS FOR BEHEADING OF BERKELEY COLLEGE REPUBLICANS
New Berkeley motto: where free speech was born and where it’s going to die.
By M. J. Randolph, April 18, 2017:
At the University of California at Berkeley, it’s common to see fliers, stickers, and advertisements for various political events and social gatherings. Over the past few months, however, stickers have started appearing around campus with a less-than-festive purpose: they’re calling for members of the college Republican group to be beheaded or lynched.
And the threat is not limited to mere stickers. Members of the club have been “pepper sprayed, sucker-punched and verbally and physically assaulted for voicing their opinions and beliefs,” according to one spokesperson for the group. Two months ago, when Milo Yiannopoulos spoke at their request, vandals came out and caused over $100,000 worth of damage. The group invited Ann Coulter to speak, so you can expect more fireworks.
It’s been a long time since the 1960s, hasn’t it? While UC Berkeley loves to call itself “the birthplace of the Free Speech Movement,” it’s now an unbearable monolithic community that can’t even tolerate dialogue on controversial topics. The L.A. Times agrees.
The cancellation… of a speech by right-wing provocateur Milo Yiannopoulos at UC Berkeley was, according to a university spokesman, “not a proud night for this campus, the home of the free speech movement.”
That’s putting it mildly. Even if the cancellation was justified by concerns about public safety after an outbreak of violence and property destruction, the fact that Yiannopoulos was prevented from speaking to a willing audience of campus Republicans should make supporters of free speech shiver.
Ayn Rand wrote this at the time:
Ayn RandThe Objectivist Newsletter, 1965
reprinted in The New Left: The Anti-Industrial Revolution, New York, Signet, 1971
The so-called student rebellion, which was started and keynoted at the University of California at Berkeley, has profound significance, but not of the kind that most commentators have ascribed to it. And the nature of the misrepresentations is part of its significance.
The events at Berkeley began, in the fall of 1964, ostensibly as a student protest against the University administrations order forbidding political activity — specifically, the recruiting, fund-raising and organizing of students for political action off-campus — on a certain strip of ground adjoining the campus, which was owned by the University. Claiming that their rights had been violated, a small group of rebels rallied thousands of students of all political views, including many conservatives, and assumed the title of the Free Speech Movement. The Movement staged sit-in protests in the administration building, and committed other acts of physical force, such as assaults on the police and the seizure of a police car for use as a rostrum.
The spirit, style and tactics of the rebellion are best illustrated by one particular incident. The University administration called a mass meeting, which was attended by eighteen thousand students and faculty members, to hear an address on the situation by the University President, Clark Kerr; it had been expressly announced that no student speakers would be allowed to address the meeting. Kerr attempted to end the rebellion by capitulating; he had promised to grant most of the rebels demands; it looked as if he had won the audience to his side. Whereupon, Mario Savio, the rebel leader, seized the microphone, in an attempt to take over the meeting, ignoring rules and the fact that the meeting had been adjourned. When he was — properly — dragged off the platform, the leaders of the F.S.M. admitted, openly and jubilantly, that they had almost lost their battle, but had saved it by provoking the administration to an act of violence (thus admitting that the victory of their publicly proclaimed goals was not the goal of their battle).
What followed was nationwide publicity, of a peculiar kind. It was a sudden and, seemingly, spontaneous out-pouring of articles, studies, surveys, revealing a strange unanimity of approach in several basic aspects: in ascribing to the F.S.M. the importance of a national movement, unwarranted by the facts — in blurring the facts by means of unintelligible generalities — in granting to the rebels the status of spokesmen for American youth, acclaiming their idealism and commitment to political action, hailing them as a symptom of the awakening of college students from political apathy. If ever a puff-job was done by a major part of the press, this was it.
In the meantime, what followed at Berkeley was a fierce, three-cornered struggle among the University administration, its Board of Regents and its faculty, a struggle so sketchily reported in the press that its exact nature remains fogbound. One an gather only that the Regents were, apparently, demanding a tough policy toward the rebels, that the majority of the faculty on the rebels side and that the administration was caught in the moderate middle of the road.
The struggle led to the permanent resignation of the Universitys Chancellor (as the rebels had demanded) — the temporary resignation, and later reinstatement, of President Kerr — and, ultimately, an almost complete capitulation to the F.S.M., with the administration granting most of the rebels demands. (These included the right to advocate illegal acts and the right to an unrestricted freedom of speech on campus.)
To the astonishment of the nave, this did not end the rebellion: the more demands were granted, the more were made. As the administration intensified its efforts to appease the F.S.M., the F.S.M. intensified its provocations. The unrestricted freedom of speech took the form of a Filthy Language movement, which consisted of students carrying placards with four-letter words, and broadcasting obscenities over the University loudspeakers (which Movement was dismissed with mild reproof by most of the press, as a mere adolescent prank).
This, apparently, was too much even for those who sympathized with the rebellion. The F.S.M. began to lose its following — and was, eventually, dissolved. Mario Savio quit the University, declaring that he could not keep up with the undemocratic procedures that the administration is following (italics mine) — and departed, reportedly to organize a nationwide revolutionary student movement.
This is a bare summary of the events as they were reported by the press. But some revealing information was provided by volunteers, outside the regular news channels, such as in the letters-to-the-editor columns.
An eloquent account was given in a letter to The New York Times (March 31, 1965) by Alexander Grendon, a biophysicist in the Donner Laboratory, University of California:
The F.S.M. has always applied coercion to insure victory. One-party democracy, as in the Communist countries or the lily-white portions of the South, corrects opponents of the party line by punishment. The punishment of the recalcitrant university administration (and more than 20,000 students who avoided participation in the conflict) was to bring the university to a grinding halt by physical force.
To capitulate to such corruption of democracy is to teach students that these methods are right. President Kerr capitulated repeatedly.
Kerr agreed the university would not control advocacy of illegal acts, an abstraction until illustrated by examples: In a university lecture hall, a self-proclaimed anarchist advises students how to cheat to escape military service; a nationally known Communist uses the university facilities to condemn our Government in vicious terms for its action in Vietnam, while funds to support the Viet-cong are illegally solicited; propaganda for the use of marijuana, with instructions where to buy it, is openly distributed on campus.
Even the abstraction obscenity is better understood when one hears a speaker, using the universitys amplifying equipment, describe in vulgar words his experiences in group sexual intercourse and homosexuality and recommend these practices, while another suggests students should have the same sexual freedom on campus as dogs
Clark Kerrs negotiation — a euphemism for surrender — on each deliberate defiance of orderly university processes contributes not to a liberal university but to a lawless one.
David S. Landes, professor of history, Harvard University, made an interesting observation in a letter to The New York Times (December 29, 1964). Stating that the Berkeley revolt represents potentially one of the most serious assaults on academic freedom in America, he wrote:
In conclusion, I should like to point out the deleterious implications of this dispute for the University of California. I know personally of five or six faculty members who are leaving, not because of lack of sympathy with free speech or political action, but because, as one put it, who wants to teach at the University of Saigon?
The clearest account and most perceptive evaluation were offered in an article in the Columbia University Forum (Spring 1965), entitled Whats Left at Berkeley, by William Petersen, professor of Sociology at the University of California at Berkeley.
The first fact one must know about the Free Speech Movement is that it has little or nothing to do with free speech. If not free speech, what then is the issue? In fact, preposterous as this may seem, the real issue is the seizure of power.
That a tiny body, a few hundred out of a student body of more than 27,000, was able to disrupt the campus is the consequence of more than vigor and skill in agitation. This miniscule group could not have succeeded in getting so many students into motion without three other, at times unwitting, sources of support: off-campus assistance of various kinds, the University administration and the faculty.
Everyone who has seen the efficient, almost military organization of the agitators program has a reasonable basis for believing that skilled personnel and money are being dispatched into the Berkeley battle. Around the Berkeley community a dozen ad hoc committees to support this or that element of the student revolt sprang up spontaneously, as though out of nowhere.
The course followed by the University administration could hardly have better fostered a rebellious student body if it had been devised to do so. To establish dubious regulations and when they are attacked to defend them by unreasonable argument is bad enough; worse still, the University did not impose on the students any sanctions that did not finally evaporate. Obedience to norms is developed when it is suitably rewarded, and when noncompliance is suitably punished. That professional educators should need to be reminded of this axiom indicates how deep the roots of the Berkley crisis lie.
But the most important reason that the extremists won so many supporters among the students was the attitude of the faculty. Perhaps their most notorious capitulation to the F.S.M. was a resolution passed by the Academic Senate on December 8, by which the faculty notified the campus not only that they supported all of the radicals demands but also that, in effect, they were willing to fight for them against the Board of Regents, should that become necessary. When that resolution passed by an overwhelming majority — 824 to 115 votes — it effectively silenced the anti-F.S.M. student organizations.
The Free Speech Movement is reminiscent of the Communist fronts of the 1930s, but there are several important differences. The key feature, that a radical core uses legitimate issues ambiguously in order to manipulate a large mass, is identical. The core in this case, however, is not the disciplined Communist party, but a heterogenous group of radical sects.