Review of Public
Enemy: Confessions of An American Dissident
Bill Ayers
(Beacon, 2013)
Bill Ayers and the Radical ‘Spark’ – Past and Present
“They just don’t get it.”
Yes, the phrase is overused, yet, all too appropriate when addressing
the continuing critiques, from both the left and the right, of Bill Ayers. The
recent publication of the second phase of his memoir, Public Enemy: Confessions of An American Dissident, was followed on
the “SDS and ‘60s Leftists” page of Facebook
by an un-thoughtful conversation on Ayers, his comrade and wife Bernardine
Dohrn, and the Weather Underground (WO).
Facilitated by George Fish and responding to a negative book review by
Jon Wiener, 43 comments followed Fish’s post.
Mostly sour, bitter, and ahistorical in tone, the comments provide the
antithesis of Ayers’ book and life, that of learning from the past and
continuing, in a human and life affirming way, the ongoing struggle that began
for Ayers in the civil rights movement, antiwar movement, Students for A
Democratic Society, and then the Weather Underground.
When confronted by a radio interviewer who referred to the
sub-title as snide, Ayers softly replied that the entire title was chosen for
its irony. Missing both the breadth and
depth of Public Enemy, the
interviewer as well as Wiener and other critics fail to acknowledge the thoughtfulness
and energy that Ayers brings to struggle, both past and present. In this particular book, we alternate between
the author’s recollections of first, his experience in the 2008 attempt to
demonize Barack Obama because he “palled around with terrorists,” and, second,
the years after he surfaced from underground beginning in 1980 from where Ayers
left-off in his previous book, Fugitive
Days. There are both multiple and
complex events, issues, and ideas presented in Public Enemy. A sampling
will be discussed in this review.
Recently, South African anti-apartheid struggle leader and
Constitutional Court Justice (comparable to the U.S. Supreme Court) Albie Sachs
spoke at Pacific University in Forest Grove, Oregon. Talking about his country’s Truth and
Reconciliation Commission (TRC), Sachs emphasized the importance of acknowledgement for both personal and
political healing. Acknowledgement causes me to return to the radio interviewer’s
portrayal of Confessions of An American
Dissident as snide. In fact, irony aside, Ayers responded by talking about acknowledging one particular flaw
during his time in WO. He asserted that
neither he nor his comrades ever doubted their positions and that by not being
skeptical they were arrogant and without reflection. Doubt is discussed in Public Enemy and Ayers also talks about apologetics within a
conceptual framework of an American Truth Commission. In both the book and current media interviews,
Ayers has continually repeated that neither he nor the WO ever killed anyone in
the bombings of buildings.
Not only did I never kill or injure
anyone, but in the six years of its existence, the Weather Underground never
killed or injured anyone either. We
crossed lines of legality to be sure, of propriety, and perhaps even of common
sense, but it was restrained, and those are the simple, straightforward facts.
The correct term for Weather Underground bombings, in
correspondence to the armed struggle in South Africa, is “armed
propaganda.” And like Umkhonto We Sizwe
underground soldiers in South Africa, Ayers would welcome the opportunity to
answer queries about his WO activities at an American TRC. In Public
Enemy Ayers writes:
America, it seemed to me, was in
urgent need of some kind of truth and reconciliation process… We needed a
process to understand the truth of the past in order to create the possibility
of a more balanced future… Everyone together would have the opportunity to tell
their stories of suffering, and the victimizers would be asked why and how they
created that misery. Society would have
the opportunity to witness all of it in order to understand the extent and
depth of the disaster as a step toward putting it behind us and moving
forward. In that setting and standing
with Kissinger and McCain, McNamara and Kerry, Bush and Cheney, I’d be happy to
say exactly what I did, take full responsibility, and bow deeply. But without any chain of culpability
whatsoever, I’ll stand on the record, or just stand aside.
While five chapters in Public
Enemy present the threats and black listing Bill Ayers experienced during
and after the 2008 presidential campaign, I will address the topic with brevity
as it has already been explored in other reviews. An in-depth description and analysis is
portrayed in Maya Schwenwar’s Truthout
review, “Bill Ayers Weighs in on Democracy, Selfhood, and His ‘Unrepentant
Terrorist’ Alter-Ego.” Besides endless
email threats and having someone actually come to his office at the University
of Illinois-Chicago, Ayers was banned from talking on college campuses
throughout the country. At the time my
colleague at the University of South Carolina, Craig Kridel, the Curator of the
Museum of Education, posted a page titled “The Bill Ayers Problem” on the
Museum webpage. The page title, like Public Enemy, is ironic and at the time
I wrote:
The inequality,
unfairness, violence, and global greed are what Bill Ayers has fought against
for many years. The fight is every bit as important today as it was during the
Civil Rights Movement and the Viet Nam War. And while some people might call me
insensitive because I refuse to enter a debate on Bill Ayers as a terrorist, I
choose not to speak back to the cries of O’Reilly, Hannity, and Colmes and
their nameless comrades because the work Bill Ayers is doing does not need
defenders but, rather, supporters and allies that fight for a more just world.
Finally, as an academic who works with teachers who fought against apartheid in
South Africa, I can’t help but think that the same people who define Bill Ayers
as a terrorist would have given that label to Nelson Mandela and his less known
comrades during the struggle against the apartheid regime. We know now what
history says about that – we can only hope that Bill Ayers and many other
people continue their work as progressive educators and activists.
But Bill Ayers does not rail against
his detractors in his writing. Rather,
while he is critical in a political/personal way of their harassment and
silencing and analyzes their actions, his emphasis is a celebration of people
who continue the struggle. While the
story of the cancellation of his talk at the University of Wyoming is
politically important, from Ayers we learn more about the woman who fought for
his right to speak. More accurately, she
fought for her own free speech.
‘I’m going to sue the
university in federal court,’ she told me during our first conversation. ‘And I’m claiming that it’s my free speech
that’s been violated – I have the right to speak to anyone I want to, and right
now I want to speak to you.’ She was
young and unafraid, smart and sassy, her dreams being rapidly made and used –
no fear, no regret. I liked her
immediately. Meg’s approach struck me as
quite brilliant – students (and not I) were indeed the injured party.
The University of Wyoming student won
the case and Bill Ayers spoke on democracy and education with over 1,000 people
at the University. In discussing the
event, he also honors his sister’s father-in-law, a retired United Church of
Christ minister who drove a couple of hours to Laramie for the talk and told
Bill: “‘The Lord moves in mysterious ways,’ he said with a wink and a smile
gesturing with his Bible. ‘If any of the
crazy Christians get out of hand, he wants me to set them straight.’”
Ayers writes of other cancellations at
places throughout the country. The
University of Nebraska stands out but only because he was in Tapai at the time
and was woken with the news from a dean at three in the morning. In contrast to Nebraska, there are brave
academics at Millersville University and Georgia Southern University where
Ayers was welcomed. At Millersville
administrators explained that it was their “duty and honor” to have him
speak. “It’s not about you personally,
it’s about the mission and the meaning of the university.”
Honoring people throughout Bill Ayers’
journey is the stuff of Public Enemy. One of the funniest yet potent tales is the
reaction of Ayers’ comrade and friend, Michael Klonsky, when he was invited to
give an education conference keynote address.
The organization told Klonsky that they had intended to invite Bill
Ayers but that he was “too controversial and too radical.” Klonsky scolded the inviter saying: “How dare
you ask me to scab on Bill Ayers?” When
Ayers thanked him, he replied: “Defending you?
I wasn’t defending you, I was defending myself – I was deeply and
personally offended when they said that your were too radical, and by implication that I wasn’t too radical. I’m as radical as you are, motherfucker.”
Bill Ayers’ book is about issues,
ideas, actions, and people – it is not solely about Bill Ayers. Epsie Reyes was a colleague at the University
of Illinois-Chicago. She supported
Hillary, not Barack, in the 2008 democratic primaries, and she was one of many
people who consoled Bill Ayers after Hillary Clinton first demonized him in a
primary presidential debate. Reyes sent
strong emails to both Clinton and the Democratic National Committee “detailing
how much money she’d donated and how many weekends she’d devoted to organizing
on her behalf, explaining who I really was in her ‘humble opinion,’ and
encouraging, then demanding that the campaign apologize to me personally and
denounce the smears – or else she would have to rethink her commitments.”
Close friends and colleagues, of
course, also came through in both 2001 and 2008. Mona and Rashid Khalidi were both supportive
and insightful as were dozens of others.
In 2008 there was a surprise call from Edward Said: “Of course it’s
painful for you personally, but cringing and going quiet is the worst thing you
could do at this moment. Your kids are
watching you and your students too and a lot of others. Don’t let them down.”
Said’s
message corresponds to the entirety of Public
Enemy. Ayers celebrates political
struggle and the people who try to sustain the fight. Two quotes come to mind, the first from a
speech by Paul Potter referred to in the book. “Don’t
let your life make a mockery of your values.”
Margaret Meade’s words correspond to Potter’s connecting the personal to
the collective. “Never doubt that a
small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever
has.” In addition to the 2001, 2008, and
more recent stories, Public Enemy
includes portraits from the time Bernardine and Bill came up from underground
in 1980. Ayers writes admiringly about
his childrens’ pre-school teacher at the time, BJ, whom he refers to as “an
inspired early childhood educator.” “She
was one of a kind, and everyone knew it.” Ayers’ portrait of BJ brought a response in
Ron Jacobs’
Counterpunch article, “Get Bill Ayers,”
“Indeed,
the truest hero in the book is the family’s New York child care provider, BJ.”
On Bill’s journey we meet Bernardine’s lawyers Eleanora
Kennedy and Michael Kennedy and various other people including Ellie and Robby
Meeropol who were Bill’s friends at the University of Michigan. Robby was the son of Ethel and Julius
Rosenberg and he was three years old when his parents were executed. Bernardine and Bill had just adopted Chesa
Boudin whose parents, Kathy Boudin and David Gilbert, had been sentenced for
murder in the Brinks Robbery in Nyack, New York. Robby explained that there was no road map
and that times would be rough for Chesa – honest responses are very much a part
of the many vignettes that Ayers presents throughout Public Enemy.
The real heart of the book, however, within the context of
continuing struggle, is the authentic portrayal of the Dohrn/Ayers family –
Bernardine Dohrn and their sons Chesa, Malik, and Zayd. The book depicts seriousness and humor and
mostly respect and admiration. There is
a story from the early above ground days that I must include in this review.
Leaving swim class one day, we were
swept up into a raucous women-led march heading from Broadway and Fifty-ninth
Street toward Times Square. ‘No more
porn! No more porn! No more porn!” we
chanted ecstatically, fists pumping and voices rising as we entered the
pornography district. It was a feisty
and colorful crowd, our attendance just a happy accident, but with Zayd
cheerfully perched on my shoulders we were in high spirits and quite pleased to
be in cahoots. Soon we spotted a pizza
stand along the route, and Zayd was famished from swimming and ready for a
slice, so we settled into a booth. Zayd
reflected on the parade we’d just left: ‘That was fun,’ he said. ‘Why don’t we want more corn?’
Ayers tells the story of all three sons advising him during
2008 and the respect appears to go both ways. Pages 129 to 131 serve as an illustration as
Malik, Zayd, and Chesa join Bernardine in coaxing Bill not to speak with the
media – a disposition alien to his being.
Malik warns him of ambush and it recalls Mailer’s self-admonitions of
never talk to the press – they control the story.
The consensus from them, in line
with Bernardine’s steady and consistent basic instinct, was that whatever
happened on the web or in the press, we should simply turn away. No comment, no elaboration, no clarification,
no response. ‘Be completely quiet,’ they
said, ‘and stay calm.’ ‘It’s harder then
it sounds,’ Zayd added, looking right at me, ‘especially for you.’ True, too true: I tend to have a lot on my
mind – who doesn’t? – and I’m genetically wired to speak up and speak out, and
not always with considered judgment. My
default position, no matter what, is to say something… ‘You’ll get flattened,’
they now said in unison.’
Bill Ayers remained silent through 2008, but of course,
“palling around with terrorists” quietly lives on. There is an ethos throughout Public Enemy, consistently present in
the ideas, issues, actions, and people portrayed in the book, amidst everything
else – this book is homage to Bernardine Dohrn.
Her strength, thoughtfulness, commitment, and humanity is the spirit of Public Enemy: Confessions of An American Dissident. Whether it is gently chiding Bill with their
children or being warmly welcomed back by the judge in Chicago when she
surfaced from underground – her humanity is ever present. Political commitment is obvious in Dohrn’s
first above ground statement: “This is no surrender. The fight against racism and war continues,
and I will spend my energy organizing to defeat the American empire.” Ayers writes of her actions and dispositions when
she was imprisoned at the Metropolitan Correctional Center in New York for
refusing to give Grand Jury testimony on the Brinks Robbery. The emotion of being away from her kids but
at the same time focused political commitment.
There is also a great story of her mother passing on contraband when she
visited the prison – a chocolate chip cookie!
There is much more to Public
Enemy than the samples that I present.
Bill Ayers critiques the Weather Underground and provides much more
breadth to the ideas, issues, actions, people, and events he portrays. He also pushes his story to the present and
therein lies the further message. Ayers,
Dohrn, and many of their WO (and beyond) comrades continue to work for the same
issues they have pursued beginning in the sixties. For Ayers it is education and more and the
latter includes working with young activists who continue the fight for the end
of racism, class disparity, and imperialism. First in the civil rights movement, then SDS
and WO, Ayers was part of the “spark” for a just world. His book is a partial story of continuing to
keep that “spark” alive today.
Alan Wieder
Alan Wieder is the author of Ruth First and Joe Slovo in the War Against Apartheid (Monthly
Review Press, 2013)
