With this edition of Turfing we say goodbye to our friend John Beresford, and touch on some of the ideas that he talked to me about over the years. May I be as brave as he was, and bring about such change and compassion into the world!
On The Menu:
Memoriam: Dr. John Beresford
I Support The Troops
The Nazi Comparison- Dr. John Beresford
Excerpts from the Tao Te Ching
John Beresford, Psychedelic Pioneer passed on September 2nd, 2007. Co-Founder of the Agora Scientific Trust, John, Michael Hollingshead, and Jean Houston helped to launch the modern movement with ‘the magic gram’ that John purchased from Sandoz.
Born in England, he had moved to the US and took US citizenship, later moving to Canada. I think John was perhaps one of the kindest persons I ever communicated with. Always thoughtful, considerate and concerned with the well-being of others.
His work with the Commitee On Unjust Sentencing/Tallahassee Project is perhaps what he will (or maybe would of liked) to be remembered for. He developed the Tallahassee Project to publicize, and to remedy the plight of non-violent drug war prisoners. He campaigned tirelessly in many POW’s (prisoners of the drug war) behalf.
He will be missed, and he was one of the real ones!
Good Voyage John, be at peace.
I Support The Troops
THE NAZI COMPARISON – Dr. John Beresford
(thanks to erowid.org for this!)
Drug War prisoners that I correspond with call themselves POWs. Some write “POW in America” in the corner of an envelope under the writers name and prison number. “Political prisoner” and “gulag” are terms that enter conversation. Solzhenitsyns The First Circle and The Gulag Archipelago are works sometimes referred to.
Americas vast network of prisons, boot camps, and jails invites comparison with the detention machinery of former totalitarian regimes. The certainty of conviction that an accusation of a drug law violation brings — through confession ( 95 percent ) or trial and a finding of guilt ( the remaining 5 percent ) — matches the idea of automatic conviction that goes with popular belief about the nazi and communist systems. “Nazi” is a term used by Drug War prisoners and non-prisoners alike, as though it were a given that the mentality behind Nazi behavior a half-century ago and the operation of today s Drug War is no different.
The comparison is an uncomfortable one, and ones first inclination is to reject it. A US judge has objected that nothing in the conduct of todays Drug War resembles the terror tactics in Nazi Germany where SS troops could storm into a persons home and no one saw or heard of that person again. The objection is understandable, but it rests on a false premise. The Nazis were not a bunch of crooks, operating outside the confines of the law. Everything they did had legal backing, and if on some occasion a law was needed they composed one.
Flat out, it will be objected that a world of difference separates a prison from a death camp. Drug War prisoners are not intended for a holocaust. Ominously for our peace of mind, however, until the last minute neither were the people held in concentration camps. They were held there to protect the health of society. Moreover, with the obsession with death that gains ground daily, it is probable that death is in the cards for people accused of drug law violations in the future. A questionnaire is making the rounds in Congress that has Yes and No boxes for questions which include: “Do you favor the death penalty for drug trafficking?” Who in their right mind in Congress, I wonder, will check No to that question, “trafficking” being the loaded term for what most people call dealing?
Someone will point to the absurdity of thinking that America would ever tolerate a “Fuhrer,” a wild man with a funny mustache and a way of haranguing crowds burlesqued by Charlie Chaplin. The point, though, is that the Nazi comparison refers not so much to rhetoric, inevitably different in two quite different places and at different times, as to the dehumanization and trashing of large numbers of people for lifestyles and practices that violate the norms of mainstream society. For this we do not need a Hitler. We can do it the American way.
Myself, I am sympathetic to the Nazi comparison. I was in Nazi Germany as a child.
In the summer of 1938, when I was 14, my parents sent me on a two-week vacation with a family in a village in north-west Germany. There were Mr. and Mrs. Otting, their daughter Irmgard, and the youngest son Wolfgang, who wore his Hitler Jugend uniform at Wednesday night meetings. The two older sons I never saw. One was in the army. The other was doing two years of voluntary farm labor, which excused him from army service.
Mr. and Mrs. Otting were old-time Christians, and had the family bible on display in the china cabinet in the dining room. On the shelf above the Holy Bible you saw the red and white dust jacket of Mein Kampf, Hitlers version of scripture. No one said anything about it, but there had to be a copy of Mein Kampf on display for two reasons. Every five or six houses or apartments had an informant who could sift through mail, collect gossip, and pay a visit to make sure the householder did not have suspicious material lying around. Also, schoolchildren were taught to report suspicious behavior to the police.
There wasnt any TV, but there was plenty of entertainment — parades, outdoor concerts, Hitler on the radio, sports.
The economy was great. Everyone had a job. Germany was strong. Hitler wanted peace. New construction was going up everywhere. The trains ran on time. You didnt see beggars in the street, hanging around. Undesirables had been rounded up, got out of the way.
The newspapers were full of praise for the Nazi system. A weekly periodical with pictures showed who the Untermenschen were, the underclass of people who had no place in decent society. In those days the underclass consisted of gypsies, Jews, homosexuals, the wrong sort of artists, trade unionists, and communists. They were described in terms we now call demonization and scapegoating.
The universities had their share of academics who endorsed Nazi policy. Doctors, engineers, race specialists, and others spelled out theories which gave the Nazis a green light.
At 14 I was barely aware of all this. Yet by the end of my two weeks with the Ottings I had a feeling that to this day remains hard to describe. I took this feeling home to England, where I promptly forgot it. It wasnt the sort of feeling you had there. I didnt have it during the war, which started the next year. I didnt have it when I studied medicine, emigrated to America, became an American citizen, and lived in New York for 20 years. I didnt have it in Canada, where I practiced psychiatry for 15 years. I didnt have it when I retired from practice and spent time in a Buddhist monastery.
On and off, I would read about Nazi Germany, but the feeling that I had when I was briefly in Nazi Germany as a child had gone.
In the fall of 1992 an ad appeared in the personal column of High Times Magazine, sent in by Brian Adams. Brian wrote that he was 18 years old, just out of high school, when he was arrested and sentenced to ten years of imprisonment for passing out LSD to his friends. If a High Times reader was interested in LSD sentencing methods, the reader could write to Brian and learn something.
I wrote to Brian, who introduced me to Tim Dean, who introduced me to other LSD prisoners and soon I was in the thick of a correspondence which has not stopped growing. In 1993 I began to visit Drug War prisoners in prison. I drove to the Canadian border, crossed into the United States, and talked with Pat Jordan in County Jail in Nashville, Tennessee. I drove to Michigan City to talk with Franklin Martz, sentenced to 40 years in the Indiana State Prison in that city. I drove to other prisons to speak with Drug War prisoners, paying attention to the information they provided. That started my Drug War education.
One day something happened. I realized that every time I left the monastery and entered the United States I was struck with a weird feeling that left as soon as I re-entered Canada. I couldnt put my finger on it, but it was as real as day. When the meaning of this realization dawned, it hit me like a ton of bricks. The feeling I had acquired in Nazi Germany and forgotten more than half a century before was back. My Drug War education had clicked in.
The feeling told me everything. The exponent of democracy had fallen on hard times. America was treading the same path as Nazi Germany. The War on Drugs and Hitlers war on anyone he took exception to — the symptoms in the two cases were identical.
One thing I had to accept was that I could not stay on in the monastery. I could not sit back and watch disaster unfold. I had to get out in the world and become an activist, whatever becoming an activist entailed. Even if no one else saw the War on Drugs in the same light I did, I had to do what might lie in my power to stop it.
I wont go into what has happened since, except to mention a friendship with Nora Callahan and a tie to the November Coalition. It is a relief to know that others share the perception that hist
orically we are in big trouble, without their having once glimpsed life in Nazi Germany.
Where it will end, no one can say. But there is reason for hope. In 1938 people in Germany did not know the price they would soon pay for subscribing to Nazi policy. We, looking back, do know. With the benefit of hindsight and with concerted effort we may still halt the juggernaut, free Drug War prisoners, reverse an unsalutary policy, and restore meaning to the words “liberty and justice for all.” If we dont, we will have no one to blame for the disaster that lies just around the corner but ourselves.
From The Tao Te Ching…
Without taking a step outdoors
You know the whole world;
Without taking a peep out the window
You know the colour of the sky.
The more you experience,
The less you know.
The sage wanders without knowing,
Looks without seeing,
Accomplishes without acting.
If you offer music and food
Strangers may stop with you;
But if you accord with the Way
All the people of the world will keep you
In safety, health, community, and peace.
The Way lacks art and flavour;
It can neither be seen nor heard,
But its benefit cannot be exhausted.
The Way is a limitless vessel;
Used by the self, it is not filled by the world;
It cannot be cut, knotted, dimmed or stilled;
Its depths are hidden, ubiquitous and eternal;
I don’t know where it comes from;
It comes before nature.
Men flow into life, and ebb into death.
Some are filled with life;
Some are empty with death;
Some hold fast to life, and thereby perish,
For life is an abstraction.
Those who are filled with life
Need not fear tigers and rhinos in the wilds,
Nor wear armour and shields in battle;
The rhinoceros finds no place in them for its horn,
The tiger no place for its claw,
The soldier no place for a weapon,
For death finds no place in them.