Ex-Terrorist Tells All
I WAS brought up a Catholic. Even as a youth I had a pronounced sense of justice. This was deepened when I studied history at school and learned about the Nazi concentration camps. And being a student in the early 1960’s meant being encouraged to stand up boldly for your convictions. That is what I wanted to do, in pursuit of a better, more just, world.
It was first while serving my apprenticeship as a chemical technician that I came in contact with groups of young people who were active politically. Our long and sometimes heated discussions convinced me that bearing arms was inconsistent with being a Christian.
Leaning strongly toward pacifism, I became loosely associated with a group that was planning an anti-atomic-weapons protest during the 1966 Easter holidays. When a bishop saw my anti-atomic-weapons button at a Catholic Youth meeting, however, he admonished me “not to get involved.” My reaction was swift. I made a clean break with the Church.
The support people gave the Vietnam War was to me the same as approving of burning women and children alive with napalm. Of course, I was against such a thing! I would protest actively! In 1966 I was introduced to the world of protest marches, participating in several.
Came 1967. U.S. Vice-President Hubert Humphrey was scheduled to visit Berlin on April 6. Several days before his visit, about 40 of us gathered together with a group that was planning a protest action. The group was called “Commune One.” At the outset we were warned that anyone taking part might get into trouble with the police. Most left. But I stayed.
After Humphrey’s visit, the police began an investigation of the demonstrations that had taken place. All the members of “Commune One” were taken into custody, as was I. But these were only the preliminaries. Before my case came up for trial, something else happened that proved to be the real basis for the terrorist scene that later developed in Berlin.
It was a Friday—June 2, 1967—and the shah of Iran was coming. We planned a demonstration against what we considered his cruel regime. Until then all our demonstrations—aside from a few firecrackers and tossed potatoes—had been peaceful. But this time some of the protesters were struck with wooden clubs by the Persian secret service, and one demonstrator was shot to death by the police. Now an element had been added that would have to be reckoned with in future demonstrations—violence!
In July I fled the country to escape trial for the Humphrey affair and did not return until I heard that charges against me had been dropped. But I was back in Berlin in time for the “Vietnam Convention,” held there on February 19, 1968, when almost 10,000 persons marched in protest against the war.
Meanwhile the Berlin press was speaking out strongly against us. As the news media continued its campaign, tension mounted. The climax came on Thursday, April 11. Bullets rang out on West Berlin’s most famous street, the Kurfürstendamm, and a student leader lay seriously injured, the victim of an assassination attempt. This sparked a series of violent demonstrations throughout Germany. Hundreds of persons were injured, and in Munich two lives were lost.
In Berlin a protest march was hastily arranged for that very evening. Seeing a certain publishing house as a symbol of the news media and of all those speaking out against us, we marched to its skyscraper home located alongside the Berlin Wall, just yards within West Berlin. While several hundred policemen frantically tried to preserve order, over 2,000 of us marched toward the building. Among the policemen on duty that night was one named Jürgen. I did not know him at the time, but a few years later I would.
Several of us tried to force our way into the building, but without success. Grabbing a heavy brass rod ripped from the demolished front doors of the building, I lifted it, intent on sending it crashing down upon the head of a policeman standing in my way. At the last minute one of the demonstrators, a lawyer sympathetic to our cause, forcibly prevented me from doing it. Where would I be today had he not done so?
By midnight the crowds began dispersing, leaving behind a battlefield strewn with broken glass and overturned and burned-out autos. And it was a battlefield upon which I had fought. I, the idealist who had started out protesting against the use of force, had now ended up using it myself. What was happening?
At the end of the year, a number of us formed a loosely organized group that we called the “Hashish Rebels.” This was an appropriate name, because many of us caught up in the protest movement had begun taking drugs.
Our tactics were to foster hatred for authority and to force people, almost against their will, to resort to violence. Once, for example, about 2,000 persons were taking part in a protest march sponsored by a group of engineering students. But it took only 20 of us “Hashish Rebels” to change the demonstration’s whole complexion. Scattered among the demonstrators, we began throwing stones at the police. Understandably, they tried to defend themselves and not only the guilty ones but also “peaceful demonstrators” became involved. They, in turn, lashed back at what they considered to be “police brutality.”
In order to activate more people for our cause, we held a teach-in at Berlin’s Technical University the evening of November 29. About 2,500 persons were present. First we heard a lecture on what was called “honorable crime.” We also provided our own musical entertainment. One of our bands, in which I played, was called the Vox Dei, Latin for “God’s voice.” It was obviously a misnomer, for the band’s chief purpose was to get our audience emotionally involved and to make them more receptive to our message.
Later in the evening I played a cassette made by a group called the “West Berlin Tupamaros” that defended the murdering of judges. Several years later the president of Berlin’s highest court, Günter von Drenkmann, and the Federal Republic’s chief prosecutor, Siegfried Buback, were murdered by terrorists.
Inflamed by both the music and what the speakers had said, a large crowd spilled out of the university building into nearby Ernst-Reuter-Platz and started breaking store windows, especially those of a business firm we viewed as being a symbol of American capitalism.
Meanwhile, I was having personal problems. My drug habit had led to a circulatory collapse. I had also developed a severe persecution complex. Afraid to wear sandals, I stomped around in heavy boots, thinking they would be useful in defending myself. And I never ventured out without a knife. My life, nearly destroyed by drugs and poisoned by hatred, was serving no real purpose. I began to realize that a person, unless he starts with himself, can do little to change the world, even with violence.
In March of 1970 two of Jehovah’s Witnesses appeared at my door and showed me their book The Truth That Leads to Eternal Life. One of the men, himself a Witness for only a few months, called back and began a systematic study of the Bible with me. Several of my friends, up to 15 at a time, would frequently attend.
I made rapid progress in learning about God and his purposes. Soon I was attending Christian meetings and making profound changes in my life. Then on May 23, 1971, I was baptized in symbol of my dedication to God, just about a year after having told the two men at my door: “I will be happy to listen to what you have to say, but be sure of one thing: I will never become one of Jehovah’s Witnesses!”
But now I had. And who was this young, newly baptized Witness who had played such a major part in rescuing me from a life of drug addiction and violence? Our paths had crossed once before—on an April night back in 1968. Yes, he was Jürgen! To think that, theoretically at least, the policeman I had been so eager to club three years previously could well have been Jürgen!
During my Bible studies, I learned much—for example, that during the first century there were also “freedom fighters,” or “terrorists,” who thought they could bring about a better world. They were Jews and they wanted to liberate their people from Rome. But they could not. In fact, their acts of violence helped to bring about Jerusalem’s destruction by Roman armies in 70 C.E.
The followers of Jesus, however, did not support these liberation movements. They trusted in God to establish a better world by means of his kingdom. They were aware of the Bible’s words: “Do not put your trust in nobles, nor in the son of earthling man, to whom no salvation belongs. . . . Happy is the one . . . whose hope is in Jehovah his God.”—Ps. 146:3-7.
Where would I be today had not Jürgen stopped at my door and helped me to understand this Bible text? Or the one at 2 Peter 3:13? It states: “But there are new heavens and a new earth that we are awaiting according to [God’s] promise, and in these righteousness is to dwell.” A really righteous world—that the Great Creator also wants, and will create!
Many of my former comrades have continued to fight for what they feel will be a better world. Some of the members of “Commune One” and the “Hashish Rebels” went on to form the nucleus of the terrorist group Movement of June 2. Similar groups gave birth to the Red Army Faction and other terrorist groups. Some of the peaceful demonstrators of the 1960’s turned into the bank robbers, kidnappers and murderers of the 1970’s. Examples: Katherine Boudin, etc., who were implicated in the aborted robbery in Nyack, N.Y., Oct. 20, 1981. Is this the better world they had in mind?
I, too, have continued to fight, but not in a violent way. I am fighting hard to live up to God’s righteous requirements for achieving everlasting life in his new system. I am fighting hard to help others, including my wife and two little boys, to do the same. This is a spiritual fight that makes me happy and gives me a worthwhile goal in life. Best of all, it can lead to something that is sure to come—a truly better world.—Contributed.
“Let anger alone and leave rage; do not show yourself heated up only to do evil. For evildoers themselves will be cut off, but those hoping in Jehovah are the ones that will possess the earth.”—Ps. 37:8, 9.
[Blurb on page 6]
Our tactics were to foster hatred for authority and to force people to resort to violence
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I began to realize that a person can do little to change the world, even with violence
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Some of the peaceful demonstrators of the 1960’s turned into the bank robbers, kidnappers and murders of the 1970’s