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When SDS began to target military research on campuses, around 1967, what we denounced was “complicity.” You could begin to be free only by acting as if you were already free, and this entailed, as much as possible — and only you knew what was possible — getting out from under all the institutional deadweight that tried to convince you that nothing very much was possible. The movement was, as civil rights activists already called themselves, a freedom movement.
Later, in the 1980s, interviewing people with whom I had worked in those days for my book, “The Sixties,” I was struck by how many brought up the subject of Nazi evil, known then as the Holocaust by even those who foreswore any religious connotation. They brought it up themselves, and in the main they responded vigorously when I asked them whether the slaughter of the Jews had weighed on them, whether they felt it to be a force in their lives. They had felt it to be a force in their lives, and they had set themselves not to see such abominations repeated. True enough, sometimes they were too quick to draw pseudo-precise analogues between Nazi evil and Mississippi, or the Vietnam War, especially as the decade grew more murderous. To me that was a venal sin. The important thing was to understand, as the Port Huron Statement declared, that history was in the process of being made — always.
A high proportion of the radical Jews were secular. (Radical politics was not exactly the reason that T. S. Eliot warned in 1934 that “reasons of race and religion combine to make any large number of free-thinking Jews undesirable,” but he would not have objected to the extrapolation.) To us, Jewish values were the point of being Jewish, and (sorry, neoconservatives everywhere) those were the values of the left. That is, whatever you believed (or not), whether you were bar (or, less likely then, bat) mitzvahed or not, what mattered in Judaism was not dietary laws but what you, in common with others, did in the name of justice.
Much of the Port Huron Statement reads today as obvious, even as most of the desirable economic and social reforms it proposed are still unachieved. What the document had to say about the Cold War is today, of course, obsolete. But what remains luminous, relevant and ongoing (reincarnated now in the Occupy movement) is the insistence that values matter and that head and heart can line up, if imperfectly. SDS’s brainstorm was to place its declaration of values up front, as in the preamble to the Declaration of Independence. The movement would be guided by the crazy, fruitful, dangerous, American, Jewish idea that human life deserved to be less cruel and more lovely, and that anyone could take action, starting right now and right here, to help make it so.
Now, as then, the politics — like the religion — that ignores this imperative is unworthy. “If not now, when?” as Rabbi Hillel asked. And as another, Rabbi Tarfon, said, “It is not given you to complete the task, but neither are you free to abandon it.”
Todd Gitlin chairs the doctoral program in communications at Columbia University and is the author of the just released e-book “Occupy Nation: The Roots, the Spirit, and the Promise of Occupy Wall Street” (HarperCollins).