RUSK MEETS THE STUDENTS

UP IN the State Department press room, the Associated Press reporter furrowed his brow as he argued with his editor on the phone about the "so-called student leaders"--42 student body presidents and college newspaper editors--who had met that afternoon with Secretary of State Dean Rusk.

"No Jack, they didn't really criticize anything," he said impatiently, "they just kept repeating this stuff about 'erosion of confidence' and 'misgivings.' No, they said they were just here as individuals, not representatives."

The students, after earning a front page story in the New York Times barely one month before with their letter to President Johnson, may have been bewildered the next day when no major newspaper devoted more than eight inches to the Rusk meeting. The Times ignored it completely.

But the AP reporter, whose job at the State Department consists in a very large measure of assessing the verbal nuances that make news, could have given them the explanation that night. "I guess they just played it too smooth," he said simply as he put down the receiver. "You kept wondering what the hell they were really after."

The failure to draw the newspapers' attention was a critical setback, for it indicated that the press, which had given the student leaders their springboard to the general public in December, was no longer interested in vague generalizations about growing dissatisfaction.

The Real Objectives

Although the students have phrased their discontent in the form of questions, their aim has been much broader than a simple exchange of opinion.

Their objective has been twofold. They have wanted, first and most obviously, to provide a means of expression for broad-based moderate dissatisfaction with the war, an alternative to the strident protest of the New Left. In the belief that student discontent is prevalent and that the Administration may soon decide whether to further escalate the war, they have sought to mobilize a "middle course of opposition."

Their second objective, really an extension, of the first, has related to the methodology of student activism. The student leaders have attempted to prove to their contemporaries on the left that widespread student criticism, brought to bear on the government through the channels of the establishment, can be more effective in changing policy than sensational incidents of protest.

This second objective has led the student leaders to dress their criticism in the establishment's language and manner. Their letters and statements have been moderate and restrained, delicately balanced and qualified. In appearances at press conferences--pipe-smoking and neatly groomed, in striped tie or three-piece suit--they have carried the image of responsibility and reasonableness across the national networks.

Their appeal so far, based primarily on a vague sense of malaise, has not dealt with the specifics of government policy; nor has it taken a position on possible alternatives.

But the apparent rigidity of the government's position--particularly in Rusk's responses last week--is gradually prodding them to be more critical and definite. The middle, as viewed in the perspective of past events, is moving further and further left.

I.

The original letter to President Johnson, which earned a front-page story in the New York Times on Dec. 31, was inspired, quite appropriately, by a debate on methodology, not on substance.

In a plenary session of the National Student Association's annual conference, held at the University of Illionois last summer, former NSA president Allard Lowenstein argued against David Harris, bearded and blue-denimed president of the Stanford student body, on the tactics of political involvement. Harris claimed that extreme action in the form of protest was necessary in support of a moral position. Since the entire society appeared to be unshakably corrupt, he contended, a pragmatic, peicemeal approach to social action was doomed to failure.

'Criteria of Efficacy'

In rebutting Harris, Lowenstein focused on the criteria of efficacy: students, he said, could have a considerably impact on government policy; but they must appeal to the "broad middle" of the American public, accomplishing with large numbers what they might not be able to do with sheer intensity of feeling.

Although an act of conscience--such as burning a draft card--might be respected and admired by some, he said, it certainly could not be considered an effective tactic for changing public opinion. One such tactic, Lowenstein suggested, would be writing a letter to President Johnson, expressing misgivings about the war.

The Johnson letter idea appealed to many students in the audience and, as the debate continued, about 30 gathered in a corner of the Student Union to designate a drafting committee. Four members wrote separate letters, and a fifth student spliced them together--creating, as one put it, a "horrible hodgepodge."

The organizers of the letter, including Gregory B. Craig '67, chairman of the Harvard Undergraduate Council, circulated this letter at a meeting of about 100 students late the following evening. They compiled the names of about 80 students who said they would be willing to sign, and raised $83 to cover costs by passing a hat around. So far as can be determined, however, this draft of the letter was discarded almost immediately.

The real work of drafting began on Sept. 7 in New York City at the home of Abby Erdmann, a student at Smith College. In addition to 12 student body presidents, college newspaper editors, and several elder statesmen of NSA, the group included Norman Thomas, former Socialist candidate for President, who went to dinner with several students before the meeting convened at 8 p.m.

Norman Thomas' Role

Thomas stayed only briefly, but he played a crucial role, according to Miss Erdmann, in "helping us with the idea of the tone." He told the students, according to another participant, that he would die thinking his life spent for nothing, if, at that time, the U.S. were still in Vietnam.

Dividing into two groups--one to draft the letter and another to plan the mailings and cover material--the students worked until I am and met again several days later. At various times in September and early October members of the group suggested revisions and through this "process of evolution" the letter gradually emerged.

By mid-October the draft contained, for all practical purposes, the most important ideas and language of the final letter. It reported that "increasing numbers" of students were dissatisfied with the Administration's policy, and that for every militant dissenter there were many who were "deeply troubled."

The draft noted "contradictions" in official pronouncements, expressed doubt that American interests in Vietnam justified the country's growing commitment there, and repeated that the U.S. might soon find its most loyal and courageous young people choosing to go to jail rather than serve in the army.

No Election Gimmick

The students delayed mailing the letter--first because of the President's Asian trip, then the elections, and the President's subsequent illness. ("We didn't want it to look like an election gimmick," says Miss Erdmann.)

During November and December the tone of the letter was moderated slightly by stylistic changes--some made by long-distance phone calls to Athens, Greece, where one of the student leaders' advisors was traveling on business. But the substance of the letter, expressed in "questions" and "doubts," remained essentially the same.

The signers were recruited by long-distance conference calls, linking student leaders in various parts of the country with those in Boston and New York. Some of the original 80 refused to lend their names because they found even the modified tone too harsh; others said they could not pretend to represent the opinion of their campuses, though very few disagreed with the fundamental premise that discontent was spurading.

There remained important differences in opinion, of course, even among those who signed. Some wanted the letter to be more strongly worded. Others argued that it should be shortened and toned down. The final letter was a compromise, for which no one student leader could claim authorship.

The letter's backers faced a temporary crisis shortly before releasing it in December when they realized that the number of signers had dropped to 85 as a result of withdrawals and miscounting. It took only a few quick calls, however, to restore the figure to 100 names. "The signatures were there," says one student leader. "The problem was not having any central organization."

To maximize the effectiveness of the letter, the students fed it exclusively to the New York Times, which played the story in column one--the second most important spot on the front page--and reprinted part of it. The text apparently appeared in the Times before it arrived at the White House, and caused a flurry of interest.

White House Concern

A top Presidential aide summoned one of the men who was believed to be an advisor to the students, and grilled him about their criticisms and plans. The White House, according to Administration officials, was concerned that the group might provide a rallying point for more broad-based expression of dissatisfaction.

Though the President has never answered the letter--and by all accounts has no intention of doing so--Secretary of State Dean Rusk replied on January 4, inviting the signers to Washington. Likening Communism in Vietnam to the Nazi threat in pre-war Europe, the Secretary wrote the students that there was not a "shadow of doubt" in his own mind about the involvement of U.S. interests in Southeast Asia.

Although the Rusk letter, if anything, only alienated the students with its simplistic and worn-out arguments, the organizers of the letter were puzzled as to what tactic to try next.

They wanted to say something new and forceful; and yet, the tone of moderation and reasonableness was vital to their impact on the Administration and their widespread support among students. If they attempted to include more specific criticisms or options--on the bombing or negotiations, for example-they risked losing their coaltion. And, after all, they lacked the expertise to debate the Administration on military strategy.

Moreover, if they accepted Rusk's invitation, there was the possibility that the State Department might capitalize on disagreement within the group. Thus, when the State Department offered to televise a meeting between Rusk and eight of the students over NBC, the students refused.

They Accept The Invitation

The decision was made, however, in early January to arrange a private interview. The student leaders believed that they would be accused of being closed-minded if they declined; in any case, the visit would present an opportunity to draw national attention to their middle course.

In the next few weeks, the organizers worked again through long-distance conference calls, connecting 10 to 15 student leaders at a time from coast to coast, to arrange an acceptable date. Although the State Department insisted initially that the number of students be limited to 20, they agreed five days before the meeting to allow 45 to attend.

As the date of the meeting neared, the student leaders once again attempted to use the channels of the establishment to publicize their movement and mobilize support. Their plan called for a second letter to Johnson and a reply to Rusk, both to be given to the press Sunday for release Monday, barely 24 hours before the meeting.

The State Department learned of the plan on Thursday only by coincidence, when a reporter called officials to ask their reaction. One official commented that the Secretary would probably regard the move as "playing unfair," and that it "wouldn't go over very well." But he announced on Sunday, after talking to the student leaders over the weekend, that they had a "right to do anything they want." He had been assured, he said, that the letter would merely "continue the dialogue," and that the Secretary would receive a copy before it appeared in the press.

Their Plan Fizzles

On Sunday the plan fizzled. The students failed to finish the letter in time to make Monday edition of the Times. Disagreement and wrangling about the wording of the letter prolonged drafting sessions, which began on Saturday afternoon at Dunbarton College in Washington and lasted late into Sunday night. The delay forced them to shift the delivery date from Sunday to Monday--from a slow news day to a very heavy one. Although they attempted to extend coverage by holding a general press conference, they were swamped by the Monday wave of Washington news.

Aside from these mechanical slip-ups, however, the second letter was far less clearly and forcefully written than the first. Long and rambling, it questioned the government's willingness to accept genuine negotiations that would inevitably produce something considerably short of victory. "We do not know what kind of solution other than 'military' our own government feels it could accept," the letter said.

The students thus appeared to challenge the government to name the kind of solution it would be prepared to see result from negotiations - a pronouncement which no bargainer could be expected to make. But the letter could also be interpreted as calling on the President merely to affirm that he would accept a political solution based on something less than military defeat of the enemy.

The meeting with Rusk the following day strengthened the hand of those students in the group who had argued for a more critical tone. The interview convinced them all, Robert Powell, president of the University of North Carolina student body, said shortly afterward, that "the only way we will accept [peace] is through complete surrender of the goals and /or aims of the other side."

Though the meeting was billed officially as off-the-record, it is known that Rusk rejected the possibility of any coalition government in Vietnam not controlled by groups favorable to the United States. When the students suggested that the U.S. should make the first move toward negotiations, he insisted that the other side must demonstrate its willingness first, and said that Hanoi did not appear to want negotiations.

The students emerged from the meeting angered and frightened by the Secretary's "rigidity." Although they felt he was "concerned" by their criticism, according to Powell, the questions "didn't seem to come across to him." The middle course described in Rusk's letter, he said, "is apparently nothing more than slow but unlimited escalation of the war until the other side capitulates."

III.

Now that the State Department has attempted - and failed-to answer their questions "satisfactorily," the student leaders face a critical set of decisions.

Their letters and statements so far have expressed, very effectively and accurately, the vague sense of dissatisfaction which most students feel toward the war. And their warnings of further "erosion of confidence" have surely had some impact on the Administration's thinking.

But the students' present strategy is likely to diminish in effectiveness with future letters. The President is already well-aware of their discontent, and the questions they plan to pose have been asked before, by more formidable critics.

The "responsible" but vacuous generalizations contained in their past letters can hardly be expected to command the same attention if they appear again above the names of these same 100 or 200 student body presidents and editors. For although the "leaders" have spoken of "constituencies" and have claimed to "represent" opinion, they have stressed that they are participating as individuals, not as representatives of any organizations.

The question is, then, whether the student leaders will alter their present tack in the next letter to President Johnson - either by defining their criticism more clearly, and stating their opposition to further escalation explicitly, or by organizing more broadly on campuses across the nation.

There are considerable risks in attempting to attack specific aspects of the government's policy or to suggest possible options, since any move to treat issues on their merits will open a new source of dissension within the delicately balanced coalition. The student leaders, moveover, have been most successful when they talked about feelings of student, rather than the intricacies of military and political strategy.

The most promising area for further action - and the real test of the new middle - is therefore likely to be in mobilizing larger numbers of students behind expressions of dissatisfaction and doubt.

In taking this course, the student leaders will probably have to sacrifice a large measure of clarity and precision for breadth of support, as they did in writing their letters to the government and it is not clear exactly what mechanisms or institutions will be best suited to organizing this support--public meetings, referendums, etc. But if the standard of success is still efficacy, this approach appears to be the one the new middle will find most promising