"Create two, three, many Vietnams" in order to tear down the capitalist forces around the world. "Trotskv Lives"; "Lenin won, Fidel won, \\'e will win"; and "We'll be back!" read a few other signs. There was not a single slogan referring to Columbia's education program. "These students were cleat'lv not university reformers," said Robert Foster, the Math Department's administrative aide. Some striking students, embarrassed b~' the gross vandalism of the Math students, alleged the next day that "the police did most of it." But Robert Foster, who was in the building on Fridav, April 26, and at least two students who had been in Mathematics Hall, reported that the building looked pretty much that way a few days before the police bust. The police action on College Walk and South Field stunned and shocked most of the University community, many of whom had middle-class sensibilities and had never witnessed violence before. Even numerous undergraduates who detested the SDS seizures became almost sympathetic to the striking students. The blame was placed almost exclusively on Drs. Kirk and Truman, although some persons felt that SDS intransigence and the Ad Hoc Faculty Committee's postponements, protection, and refusal to confront harsh reali ties were contributing factors. The professionally-run College radio station lost its objectivity and perspective too on Tuesday morning, as station president Papper and others editorialized passionately and rounded up shldents to speak, such as College senior Jeffrey Rosen, who said on the air, "All alumni should stop giving money to the $200 million capital campaign." (At 10:25, however, a vVKCR announcer said that the station had received several phone calls about its intense partisanship. He apologized to the listening public, and WKCR students tried to regain a balanced perspective.) Several left-wing faculty members were close to being hysterical. There was a widespread sense of horror at the police aggressiveness. SDS leaders held a 9:00 a.m. press conference, with David Gilbert proclaiming, "The nature of the modern university is now revealed." He called for an immediate student-faculty strike and the virtual abolition of all Admin72
istratlOn and Trustees, who he said were "hopelessly tied to corporate interests." He was very anxious to list all the police "ab路ocities." Asked by the press, who had been through the buildings, about student vandalism, Gilbert replied indignantly: "The amount of destruction is a clear case of press distortion. There was absolutely no vandalism in Kirk's office. It was vacuumed twice a day. Any mess in any of the buildings was a result of police action." A half hour later, J. Michael Nichols, vice president of the student council and an activist, called for an all-student strike against the University, and the immediate resignation of Drs. Kirk and Truman. One journalist asked, "Isn't it true that the University officials had no other recourse?" Nichols responded, "That's a lot of nonsense. Negotiations were going on. There were still a large number of other avenues open." "vVhat were some of the other avenues?" asked a newsman. "\Vell," answered Tichols, "the Administration could have negotiated directly with the students. Something close to amnesty could have been worked for." At 10:00 a.m. the Ad Hoc Faculty group had what might be called its last meeting. It was in the large McMillin Theater, which was packed with nearly 2,000 faculty, students, press members, outsiders. The mood was tense, chaotic, highly emotional. Professor Alan "'estin introduced a motion that he claimed had been drawn up by the Steering Committee, to hold a faculty strike for 48 hours in sympathy. After some heated debate, it became obvious that several members of the Steering Committee had not even seen the statement. Some radical faculty h'ied to have the motion voted upon, but it was evident to many professors that possibly half of the people in :\IcMillin were not faculty members. \Vestin became confused and, looking tired and angry, he stormed off the stage saying "I will not be radicalized by a portion of this faculty." The meeting slowly broke up in turmoil and acrimony. The Strike leaders moved quickly to capitalize on the police action. They set up tables on South Field to explain "the atrocities" to the television cameramen. Several strikers wore their bloodied shirts all day. SDS bullhorns
blared constantly, seeking sympathy and support for a new, bigger effort. (On Low Plaza, about 30 students against the Strike also set up a table, and displayed signs such as "Thank You for the Police Action, Dr. Kirk." Another table nearby had a large sign "Expel all 700.") SDS chiefs spent most of the morning on the phone, calling for reinforcements from C.C.N.Y., N.Y.U., Yale, and other colleges and from all of New York's radical organizations. By 1: 00 p.m. a crowd of perhaps 1,000 angry young people had gathered at Amsterdam Avenue and 116th Sh'eet, outside the Law School. Mark Rudd addressed them from the Law School terrace. "Columbia University is now dead. Columbia is dead!" Rudd called for a massive student strike and shldent takeover. "Only the students know what the University should be and what values it should have." He said he was waiting for reinforcements to arrive before another assault. "Then we're going to go. We're going to win. Columbia is ours!" A second speaker denounced Mayor John Lindsay, who, he said, "deserted the people and sold out to the capitalist interests who run this city and this University." A third speaker called for a "rent strike" bv all residents of University-owned buildings. A fourth person read telegrams from sympathetic students at San Francisco State, Yale, Harvard, Einstein College of :\1edicine, Berkeley, University of Buffalo, and Fordham. By 2:30 other revolutionaries had appeared and the crowd outside the Amsterdam Avenue gate swelled to nearlv 2,000. A contingent from the Socialist \Vorkers Party led a rhvthmic chant of "Fight, fight, fight." A gang from Youth Against \iV'ar and Fascism held a huge orange banner saving "Strike! Against Racist Trustees, Fascist Police, and Imperialist Wars." One sign said, "Adolf Hilter is alive and well at Columbia University." Rudd decided to address the crowd again. With remarkable showmanship, he appeared on the Law School terrace, 20 feet above the mob on 116th Sb'eet, and said nothing for a few moments while the people quieted and concentrated. Then he put down his bullhorn, raised his hands in the air, and barked exultantly, "This is a revolution, baby!" The crowd went wild. Around the COLUMBIA COLLEGE TODAY