student speakers. The Sundial speakers were three fraternity members dressed as Indians, in old shorts and handkerchief headbands. They were handing out leaflets: vVe, the Indians of Manhattan, feel that because we have a significant minority, we can demand the following: 1. Give Manhattan back to the Indians. 2. Destroy all buildings on Manhattan so the buffalo can roam again. 3. Reserve the state of Indiana for Indians only. 4. Reinstate the Indian head nickel. 5. Halt classes on Sitting Bull's birthday. 6. Grant complete amnesty for Geronimo. If these demands are not met, we will hold l\lark Rudd hostage. Support your local Indian. Injun Pow-
er! P.I.S. (Pupils for an Indian Society)
The leading young man was a freshman football player built like Burt Lancaster, Carl Hillstrom of Corry, Pennsylvania. He was slightly inebriated, but displayed an amazing touch for the comic. With superb timing and deft satire, Hillstrom kept over 400 listeners roaring with hilarity for nearly 20 minutes as he explained the "Indian" position. Said a graduate student in English, "Even Shakespeare would not have injected such a perfect piece of comic relief in the midst of this mess." Saturday night was rather calm, until late in the evening. A few hundred peace marchers, nearly all white, returned to the Amsterdam Avenue gate after the Central Park festivities were over, but it was a disappointingly small group and provided SDS leaders with no dramatic or mass support. Inside Low Library President Kirk and his top aides were thinking about the next day's big faculty meeting. Vice President Truman voiced the opinion that, "The Administration has been responsive-on the gym, on the h'i-partite tribunal, on coming as close to amnesty as possible with mere disciplinary probation, on yielding to faculty opinion, on trying to talk repeatedly with the protesting students. But there has been no response whatever, not one crumb of evidence of flexibility, from the SDS leaders. They no longer recognize any authority at Columbia, and see due process as a show. They even refuse to respect faculty power. It doesn't look good." Shortly after, Professor Alan Westin confessed, "W'e are at a log jam."
56
The Ad Hoc Faculty met at 10:15 p.m. again, only to adjourn in some despair at 11:30. As they adjourned, the Rev. William Starr, Assistant Professor of French Richard Greeman, G. S. English instructor Rubin Rabinovitz, and research assistant David Goodman called for a "radical caucus" to plan for an amnesty push and tactics on how to handle the next morning's all-faculty meeting, from which most of them were excluded. About 35 persons, mostlv under 35 years of age, split off and met in a room in the fifth floor of Philosophy Hall. As the young radical instructors were deliberating separately, SDS leaders and supporters engaged in an extraordinary tactic. Hoping to "radicalize" the faculty further by a dramatic act, about 60 SDS students and true believers decided to storm the faculty line around Low at midnight. While 150 or so faculty members, including SDS sympathizers like Professors Kaplow and Shenton stood guard, they were rushed by the rebel students in an angry, athletic maneuver. About 15 students broke through the line and started climbing into the windows of Low, as Low leader Tony Papert and others aided them from inside Low. The faculty forcibly pulled eight or nine students down from the ledges, but six or seven got through. As some faculty pulled students down, the teachers were booed and shouted at by other rebels. Two students inside Low spat upon faculty members below. "We do not recognize city police. vVe will not recognize faculty police." "You brains ought to be on the barricades with us, not policing against us." And 1ark Rudd denounced the "merely intellectual support" of the Ad Hoc group, and said "It's action that counts." Even the dedicated history teacher Jeffrey Kaplow was shocked. ''I'm through supporting you guys totally. This is an insane tactic," he shouted to the SDS leaders. The rush removed the scales from the eyes of numerous other professors who until that moment had kind of admired the radicals' elan and commitment to social justice. The tactic not only backfired; it presaged the tactics against the police-provocation of violence by the other side by quasiviolent attacks of one's own. Word quickly spread that SDS was
physically assaulting the faculty in front of Low, and within 10 minutes 500 students from the ~1ajority Coalition had gathered at Low, ready to tear into the SDS guerillas. The professors, puffing a bit from the exercise, then had to calm the incensed right wing and moderate students in the semidarkness. Said Assistant Professor of English (in General Studies) Harold Ferrar, a relatively sympathetic supporter of the SDS up to then, "I can't believe it. These guys will really settle for nothing other than total victory or the police dragging them out." (Actually, a few hours earlier, at an SDS meeting, Jonathan Shils, the Strike's press officer, and a few other students tried to urge some form of compromise, but ''J.J.'' Jacobs got up and said, "No concessions. vVe're here to win!" vVe've got to win the whole war." The students from Mathematics applauded vigorously. Compromise was out of the question.) Also, that Saturday night Jay Kriegel, Sid Davidoff, and Barry Gottehrer, riot aides of Mayor John Lindsay, who was very anxious to end the Columbia uprising, talked with SDS chiefs. The city officials were told by the Strikers that a police bust probably would never come because of the liberal sentiments of the faculty, and that if it did it would be a good thing, demonstrating the oppressive nature of University life and radicalizing the campus as nothing else could. All this, the executive committee of the Ad Hoc faculty knew when they reconvened past midnight following the surprising SDS charge on their ranks. However, they decided that the only hope to prevent police action on campus - the main thing in their minds, overriding everything else - was to draw up a third faculty proposal. This one was to be a kind of ultimatum, "a bitter pill for all sides to swallow," that would be the Ad Hoc's desperate, lastdesk attempt to stave off violence and force compromise. Accordingly, the whole group adjourned for the night, but the steering committee stayed up all night hammering out their resolution. By daylight they had it finished, and it was approved at an early morning session bv a large majority of the relatively small Ad Hoc group that was on campus at 9:00 a.m. The proposal was peculiar. \Vhat it COLUMBIA COLLEGE TODAY