Tom Hayden on the Chicago 8 TRIAL

The Trial by TOM HAYDEN

 

Despite the Walker Commission's report asserting the culpability of the police, Chicago authorities arrested eight antiwar and radical leaders and put them on trial for conspiracy to incite a riot. Tom Hayden, one of those arrested, recounts his experiences during a trial that gained national attention. The courtroom exploded on numerous occasions, defendants shouted at the judge, and lawyers were held in contempt. Black Panther Bobby Seale was gagged and chained to his chair by order of the judge. His case was ultimately separated from the other seven.

 

Our kids don't understand that we don't mean anything when we use the word "nigger" ... they just look at us like we were a bunch of dinosaurs ... we've lost our kids to the freaking fag revolution.

--Prosecuting Attorney Thomas Foran in a speech after the trial

 

Our crime was our identity.

      Even the sympathetic press misunderstood, billing our case as one of "dissent on trial." So did Bill Kunstler [Chicago 8 attorney] in the beginning, when he spoke of repression of "the spectrum of dissent" and implied that we differed from other Americans only in our political opinions. Although there was a certain amount of obvious truth in this claim, it always seemed superficial to us.

     The vague nature of the government's case made us feel we were on trial for something deeper and unspoken. The charges against us made no sense. We spent endless hours trying to comprehend what the case was all about.

Against our common sense the government kept insisting that the trial was not "political," not about the Vietnam war, not about the Black Panther Party, but simply the prosecution of a criminal indictment. It was, for the government, a question of whether we had conspired to cross state lines with the intention of organizing, promoting, or encouraging a riot. To prove its case it relied on evidence from Chicago policemen, undercover and FBI agents, Army and Navy personnel, two Chicago Tribune reporters, and only two civilians with no apparent police connections....

     We became the Conspiracy not because we did anything together in 1968 but simply because we were indicted together. We became closely knit because of the trial, and perhaps the government was relying on this very process for its proof. By intertwining our names through the testimony (as if the words and evidence reflected the reality of 1968) while we sat together at the defense table for five months, it might begin to appear to a jury that we always had been an interconnected unit. But evidently it never convinced the jury, and it certainly made us feel strange, like survivors of a shipwreck getting to know one another because we shared the same raft.

       As for concrete evidence of lawbreaking activity, the government puzzled us further by introducing almost nothing.... Since the evidence of conspiracy and concrete illegal activity was so weak, the thrust of the government's attack had to be carried out against our "state of mind. " As we sat through the months of testimony about our consciousness, we began to realize that the charges against us were really just as total as the changes we wanted to make in American society. On the surface there was evidence of conversations, speeches, and plots hatched in the presence of undercover government agents. Many of these were wholly fabricated; others were twisted accounts. The accurate ones-those recorded on tape-were never difficult to justify legally. But just below the surface of the testimony there was always the implication that we were dangerous and alien to the America of the jury....

      Our underlying crime, the evidence of which was revealed every day in the courtroom, was that we were beginning to live a new life style beyond that of capitalist America. Our defense table was a "liberated zone" right in front of the jury's eyes. The room itself was a sterile horror, shaped like a box, the doors smoothly tucked into the walls, neon lighting casting illumination without shadow, as if people did not exist. Paintings of British and American historical figures hung above the bench and just below the Great Seal of the United States. It was a heavy decorum. As many as twenty federal marshals kept "order," instructing spectators that they could not laugh, fall asleep, read, or go to the bathroom without forfeiting their seats. The government's table, nearer the jury, was impeccably clean, the four-member team invariably dressed in gray flannel or, in the case of Foran, sporty gabardine suits. The jury, dressed neatly as well, obeyed their orders to say good morning to the judge but otherwise remained quiet and expressionless throughout the proceedings. The judge, his old man's head attached to his floating robe like a bizarre puppet, called for respect in his gravely, sonorous, vain tone. And there we were, supposedly the victims but somehow the center of everything: our hair growing longer with each passing month; our clothes ranging from hip to shabby; joking, whispering seriously, passing notes, reading newspapers, and ignoring testimony and the rules of the judge; occasionally looking for friendly jurors' faces but eventually giving up andjust being ourselves. This behavior was the ultimate defiance of a court system that demands the repression of people into well-behaved clients, advocates, and jurors.

 

     The conflict of life styles emerged not simply around our internationalism but perhaps even more around "cultural" and "psychological" issues. For instance, music. When Arlo Guthrie, Judy Collins, Phil Ochs, Country Joe, Pete Seeger, and others tried to sing for the jury, they were admonished that "this is a criminal trial, not a theater." No one, including the press, understood what was going on. From the judge to the most liberal journalist there was a consensus that we were engaged in a put-on, a further "mockery of the court." They seemed incapable of coming to terms with the challenge on any deeper level. The court's concession was that the words to the songs, but not the singing of them, were admissible. But this was a compromise that missed the entire point. The words of "Alice's Restaurant," Ain't A-Marchin' Any More," "Vietnam Rag," "Where Have All the Flowers Gone”, and "Wasn't That a Time" may be moving even when they are spoken, but the words gained their meaning in this because they were sung. To understand their meaning would be to understand the meaning of music to the new consciousness. From the beginning of rock and roll, there has grown up a generation of young whites with a new, less repressed attitude toward sex and pleasure, and music has been the medium of their liberation. When Phil Ochs sang "We Ain't A-Marchin' Any More" in Chicago during the Convention, it provoked a pandemonium of emotion, of collective power, that spoken words could not have done. Singing in that courtroom would have jarred its decorum, but that very decorum was oppressing our identity and our legal defense.

       Or, for instance, sex. Government attorney Tom Foran's post-trial statement about the "freaking fag revolution" merely confirmed what we could see throughout. Foran represented imperialist, aggressive man, while we, for all our male chauvinist tendencies, represented a gentler, less aggressive type of human being. Schultz kept returning to the phrase "public fornication" as though the words themselves were a crime, since the government introduced no testimony to show that Yippies had acted on this threat (except once in a tree, according to an undercover agent). Allen Ginsberg was cross-examined as to whether he had "intimate" relationships with Abbie and Jerry. Physical affection between the defendants and their friends and witnesses was always noted by either thejudge or the prosecution for the record. The scene of Bill Kunsder hugging Ralph Abernathy was particularly offensive to the judge, who declared that he had never seen so much physical affection in my courtroom."

      The conflict of identity on this level was sharpest during Ginsberg's testimony.... The conflict came out into the open during Foran's cross-examination. Instead of questioning Allen about anything he had testified to-such as pre-Convention planning by the Yippies and permit negotiations-Foran asked him to recite and explain three sexual poems apparently selected by the justice Department agent at the table, a young, bespectacled, high-voiced, short-haired, blue-eyed young man named Cubbage. The first was about a wet dream, the second about a self-conscious young man at a party who discovers that he is eating an asshole sandwich, the third about a fantasy of sleeping between a man and a woman on their wedding night. At Foran's request Allen recited each one calmly and seriously and then tried to answer the prosecutor's sarcastic query about their religious significance.... When Allen left the stand we were in tears. Court recessed a few minutes later, and Foran stared at Allen and said, "Damn fag."

         A third example of the cultural conflict revolved around language. The government's case was a massive structure of obscene and provocative language attributed to us by police informers, language that the jury was supposed to imagine coming from our mouths as they stared at us across the courtroom. Some of the language was pure invention; most of it was a twisting of words that had once been used by us. Through the testimony over language, we came to the essence of the supposed "communication gap" between the generations.

       The language of the Establishment is mutilated by hypocrisy. When "love" is used in advertising, "peace" in foreign policy, "freedom" in private enterprise, then these words have been stolen from their humanist origins, and new words become vital for the identity of people seeking to remake themselves and society. Negroes become "blacks," blacks become "Panthers," the oppressors become "pigs." Often the only words with emotional content are those that cannot be spoken or published in the "legitimate" world: fuck, motherfucker, shit, and other "obscenities." New words are needed to express feelings: right on, cool, outta sight, freaky. New language becomes a weapon of the Movement because it is mysterious, threatening to conventional power: "We're gonna off the pig"; "We're gonna freak the delegates."...

       Filtered through the mind of the police agent, language becomes criminal. The agent is looking for evidence; in fact, he has a vested interest in discovering evidence and begins with the assumption of guilt. Any reference to violence or blood, by an automatic mechanism in the police mind, means an offensive attack on constituted authorities. Our language thus becomes evidence of ou@ criminality because it shows us to be outside the system. Perhaps our language would be acceptable if it were divorced from practice. Obscenity has always been allowed as part of free speech; it is the fact that our language is part of our action that is criminal. A jury of our peers would truly, have been necessary for our language to have been judged, or even understood. Or at the very least, our middle-aged jury should have heard the expert testimony of someone who could partly bridge the communication gap  ....

        Finally, the conflict of identities always involved the racism of the court toward Bobby.