The Red Army Faction, a Documentary History, Volume 1

by J. Smith

  It is not very important, but I have put it out today anyway because it refutes Buback’s filthy lies—“the conflict”—and because this is what Ulrike was working on last.

  It must only be published in its entirety, accompanied by the two letters to Hanna Krabbe and the one to the Hamburg prisoners.

  These documents were intended to refute allegations that Meinhof had committed suicide by showing her to be as committed and determined as ever. Ironically, this makes them amongst the least interesting of the statements from the captured combatants. Meinhof’s praise for the RAF’s collective process and for Baader as an individual, taken out of context, may seem naïve, while her letters to other prisoners, which were not written for broad publication, would strike many as unduly harsh.

  The prisoners were aware of this, and their reticence is noted by Raspe, but countering the suicide story was clearly viewed as being of greater importance. After all, the state had shown that it was prepared to incorporate the death or even murder of prisoners into its psychological warfare campaign. How could countering this campaign not assume the highest priority?

  Apart from releasing Meinhof’s last documents, the defense attorneys arranged for a collective interview with the prisoners, meant to be published in Le Monde Diplomatique, one of France’s most important newspapers. Here, the prisoners put forward their view of the murder, the state’s propaganda campaign, and the way in which their broken former comrades were used against them. (Although this interview was widely circulated within the radical left, to the best of our knowledge it was never in fact published in Le Monde Diplomatique, although the information was parsed into a series of articles that appeared at that time.)

  The state’s psychological warfare campaign failed in its attempt to turn Meinhof’s death against the prisoners. The story it floated—that she had had a “falling out” with the others, supposedly as a result of the Springer bombing four years earlier1—was simply not credible.

  Meinhof’s death may have traumatized the RAF and its prisoners, but it certainly did not lessen their resolve. The stakes now seemed higher than ever, and West Germany’s “fascist drift” seemed well nigh indisputable.

  As never before, circumstances cried out for action.

  The cry would not go unanswered.

  Meinhof: The Suicide-Murder Debate

  As strongly as we can, the editors of this book are putting forth the thesis that Ulrike Meinhof was murdered, while in no way presenting any information that we do not firmly believe to be true.

  The history of the RAF and its support scene is only comprehensible if one appreciates that there was—and is—real evidence with which to dispute the state’s suicide thesis. The belief that the state had murdered a revolutionary leader is based on neither paranoia nor flakey conspiracy theories, but on an abundance of inconsistencies and irregularities in how it dealt with her death, and on its culpability in the deaths of several other RAF combatants—Katharina Hammerschmidt, Holger Meins, and Siegfried Hausner.

  In the years immediately following her death, progressive commentators would always refer to Meinhof’s death as having occurred “under suspicious circumstances,” a phrase which indicated skepticism regarding the state’s claims that she had committed suicide. The radical left was in near unanimity about her murder, despite the lack of hard proof one way or the other.

  It was enough that the government’s story simply did not add up, and the onus was felt to be on the state to explain these inconsistencies.

  Over the years, this position has reversed itself in scholarly, historical, and journalistic accounts. Although the many inconsistencies in the state’s story remain, it continues to be said that these are more likely evidence of “incompetence” or “mistakes” than of a cover-up. As Meinhof’s biographer Jutta Ditfurth explains it,

  The suspicion that Ulrike Meinhof might have been murdered continues to this day, and this has much to do with the careless, unprofessional, and hasty way that the responsible authorities mishandled the corpse.2

  According to most people, including many on the left, the onus now lies with those who disbelieve the suicide theory to come up with incontrovertible evidence—perhaps a signed confession or a secret service memo—proving that Meinhof was murdered.

  This principle of trusting the state and being skeptical of its adversaries says far more about the political culture in which we are living today, than about any proof or evidence of suicide that has ever come to light, for the essential facts known remain the same now as they were thirty some years ago.

  Without a shadow of a doubt, the decline of the murder thesis is a direct consequence of the decline of the RAF and its support scene. It is a chilling example of how, once a revolutionary tendency disappears, the state’s version simply wins the contest by acclamation, no actual facts required.

  Unlike the state, we do not claim there is a “correct position” on a question of fact that has yet to be proven. But we find it singularly unhealthy—and dishonest—when authors boldly state that “special investigations… amassed overwhelming evidence that Meinhof committed suicide,”1 all the while failing to provide any of this “overwhelming evidence.”

  To understand the RAF’s history, it is necessary to appreciate the shadowy and bizarre behavior of the state’s functionaries in this matter, behavior for which the easiest explanation remains that they had something to hide.

  As a matter of respect to a fallen revolutionary, it is necessary to remember that this question remains on the table.

  Jan-Carl Raspe: On the Murder of Ulrike Meinhof

  I don’t have much to say.

  We believe Ulrike was executed. We don’t know how, but we understand the reasoning behind the method chosen. I recall Herold’s statement, “Actions against the RAF must primarily be developed in such a way as to undermine the positions held by sympathizers.”

  And Buback said, “State security is given life by those who are committed to it. People like Herold and myself, we always find a way.”

  It was a cold, calculated execution, just like with Holger, just like with Siegfried Hausner. If Ulrike had decided to end it all, to die, because she saw this as her last chance to save herself—to save her revolutionary identity—from the slow destruction of her will in isolation—then she would have told us—or at least she would have told Andreas: that was the nature of their relationship.

  I believe that the execution of Ulrike now, at this moment, is a result of developments—an initial political breakthrough in the conflict between the international guerilla and the imperialist state in the Federal Republic. To say anything more about this would require getting into things I don’t wish to discuss.

  This murder is consistent with all of the state’s attempts to deal with us over the past six years—the physical and psychological extermination of the RAF—and it is aimed at all of the guerilla groups in the Federal Republic, for whom Ulrike played an essential ideological role.

  Now I want to say that as long as I’ve been witness to the relationship between Ulrike and Andreas—and I’ve witnessed it for the past seven years—it was marked by intensity and tenderness, sensitivity, and clarity.

  And I believe that it was precisely because of this relationship that Ulrike was able to survive the eight months in the dead wing.

  It was a relationship like that which can develop between siblings, oriented around a common objective and based on shared politics.

  And she was free, because freedom is only possible in the struggle for liberation.

  There was no breakdown in their relationship during these years. There couldn’t have been, because it was based on the politics of the RAF, and when there were fundamental contradictions within the group, they were addressed concretely through praxis. No reason for such a breakdown can be found in the course of our theoretical work, the only kind that remains possible in prison—nor can it be found in the shared nature of our struggle or the history of the group.


  This can be clearly seen in the discussions and Ulrike’s letters and manuscripts in the period leading up to Friday evening. They show what this relationship was really like.

  It is a crude and sinister smear, a bid to use Ulrike’s execution for psychological warfare purposes, to now claim that “tensions” and “estrangement” existed between Ulrike and Andreas, between Ulrike and us. This is Buback in all his stupidity.

  So far all such efforts have simply further exposed the fascist nature of the reactionary forces in the Federal Republic.

  Jan-Carl Raspe

  May 11, 1976

  This is a fragment about the structure of the group, which Ulrike insisted on presenting in Stammheim, in order to destroy the leadership theory around which the BAW wanted to build this trial. Andreas was opposed, and we all wanted to write it differently. It is not very important, but I have put it out today anyway because it refutes Buback’s filthy lies—“the conflict”—and because this is what Ulrike was working on last. It must only be published in its entirety, accompanied by the two letters to Hanna Krabbe and the one to the Hamburg prisoners.

  Jan

  May 11, 1976

  Fragment Regarding Structure

  Concepts developed by Habermas provide a starting point, from which we can draw conclusions about proletarianization in the metropole: isolation resulting from the alienation which exists throughout the entire system of production. Isolation is the basis for manipulation.

  Freedom in the face of this system is only possible through its total negation, that is to say, through an attack on the system as part of a fighting collective, the guerilla, a guerilla that is necessary if a genuine strategy is to be developed, if victory is to be had.

  The collective is a key part of the guerilla’s structure, and once subjectivity is understood as the basis of each person’s decision to fight, the collective becomes the most important element. The collective is a group that thinks, feels, and acts as a group.

  The guerilla leadership consists of the individual or individuals who maintain the open and collective functioning of the group and who organize the group through their practice—anti-imperialist struggle, based on each individual’s self-determination and decision to be part of the intervention, understanding that he can only achieve what he wants to achieve collectively, meaning within the group in all its dimensions, military and strategic, and as the embryo of the new society, developing and conducting the anti-imperialist struggle through the group process.

  The line, which is to say a rational and logical strategy geared towards a single purpose—action—is developed collectively. It is the result of a process of discussion informed by everyone’s experiences and knowledge, and is therefore collectively formulated and serves to draw people together. In other words, the line is developed in the course of practice, through an analysis of conditions, experiences, and objectives. Coordination is only possible because there is unanimity regarding the goal and the will to achieve it.

  Once the line has been developed and understood, the group’s practice can be coordinated according to a military command structure. Its execution requires absolute discipline, and, at the same time, absolute autonomy, that is to say, an autonomous orientation and decision-making capacity regardless of the circumstances.

  What unites the guerilla at all times is each individual’s determination to carry on the struggle.

  Leadership is a function that the guerilla requires. Leadership cannot be usurped. It is exactly the opposite of what psychological warfare describes as the RAF’s leadership principle. Andreas has stated that if he had in fact acted in the way described by the baw, there would be no RAF and the political events of the past five years would not have occurred. Simply stated, we would not exist. If he assumed leadership of the RAF, it is because from the beginning he has always had that which the guerilla needs most: willpower, an awareness of the goals, determination, and a sense of collectivity.

  When we say that the line is developed in the course of practice, through an analysis of conditions, experiences, and objectives, what we mean is that leadership falls to the individual who has the broadest vision, the greatest sensitivity, and the greatest skill for coordinating the collective process.

  Leadership must have as its goal the independence and autonomy of each individual—militarily speaking, of each combatant.

  This process can’t be organized in an authoritarian way. No group can work this way. The idea of a ringleader is out of the question.

  The goal of the BAW’s smear campaign against Andreas is clear: they are laying the groundwork for the pacification of public opinion in the event he is murdered. They present the entire issue as if it is only necessary to snuff out this one guy, Andreas, and that would solve the whole problem the urban guerilla poses this state—according to Maihofer, the only problem this state does not have under control.

  We doubt that. Over these past five years, we have learned from Andreas—because he was the example we needed—specifically, someone from whom one could learn to struggle, struggle again, always struggle.

  What he and we are doing is in no way irrational, involves no compulsion, and is not evil.

  One reason that the BAW hates Andreas in particular is because he makes effective use of all available weapons in the struggle. It was from him that we learned that the bourgeoisie has no weapons that we can’t turn against them—a tactical principle drawn from the observation that revolutionary contradictions can be developed within capitalism. So Andreas is the guerilla about whom Che said, “He is the group.”

  Of us, he is the one who has consistently and for a long time now made the function of rejecting individual possessions clear. It was he who anticipated the role of the guerilla and of the group and who was able to direct the process, because he understood that it was necessary. It was he who understood the complete dispossession implicit in proletarianization as it exists in the metropole. It was he who understood that the guerilla’s isolation required the development of strength, subjectivity, and willpower in order to build a guerilla organization in the Federal Republic.

  Once again, we must not forget that all revolutionary initiatives are initially instinctive processes—for us, the massive wave of strikes in Russia in 1905 and the October Revolution come to mind—direction, coherence, continuity, and political power encouraged individuals to develop their resolve and willpower.

  For Gramsci, willpower was the sine qua non; strength of will as the motor force of the revolutionary process in which subjectivity plays an important role.

  Ulrike Meinhof

  1976

  Two Letters To Hanna Krabbe

  Krabbe, along with the other members of the Holger Meins Commando, was to go on trial in May 1976 on charges relating to the Stockholm action. (M. & S.)

  FIRST LETTER (MARCH 19, 1976)

  The politicians’ drivel is not what the people think, but what the politicians need them to think. And when they say “we,” they are only trying with their drivel to mold what the people think and how they think it. The state wouldn’t need opinion polls, nor would it need the Verfassungsschutz, if indoctrination by psychological warfare was as simple as that.

  As Gramsci said, the legal country is not the real country; or more plainly stated: the dominant opinion is not the opinion of the dominated. What you say is bullshit. You reason in the realm of the imaginary, as if the enemy is the ideology which he sputters, the drivel, the platitudes that they’ve drummed into you from their bag of tricks with the politicians’ cadence of consensus, as if the media and the people whom they pour all this shit on were one and the same thing. It is not real; it is the product of the counterinsurgency machine constructed by the BKA, the BAW, the Verfassungsschutz, the government, the media, the secret services, etc.

  Just as the enemy is non-material, rather than material.

  You don’t ask yourself what the condition that Brandt calls “normal” really is—and you don’t recognize in Bu
back’s statement that he has determined the conflict—war and its dimensions—to be international, and that he speaks as a representative of U.S. capital’s international interests. You only find it “absurd,” and instead of analyzing it, you offer a single word—“CIA”—which is a metaphor for Buback’s morally decadent policy—and which is gratuitous. You thereby incriminate yourself, because, in practice, you whine about the fact that this is war, after having clearly stood on our side in this war and having begun to struggle.

  Your text resembles that of the legal American civil rights movement, which begs the question, if that is how you see things, why are you in here and not out there?

  In any event, you are here.

  The internationalism that you have struggled for and which the RAF represents is not that of international, inter-state organizations like the United Nations or Geneva; it is the internationalism of the war against imperialism being waged by the liberation movements in the Third World and in the metropole.

  War—that is all. You won’t find your bearings here by relying on rumors, but only by studying the facts and their connection to the class struggle.

  If in isolation you do not make an effort to persistently and continuously analyze reality by understanding it on a material basis, in the context of the struggle—class struggle understood as war—it is because you’ve lost touch, you’re coming apart, you are sick, which means you are starting to have a sick relationship with reality. That constitutes a betrayal in the face of the reality of torture and the effort that resistance demands if it is to be more than just a word.

  It is not acceptable—in isolation you can’t permit yourself, on top of everything else, to torment yourself. That, as Andreas has said, doesn’t mean that you can avoid certain experiences in the process of liberation from alienation. But it is one thing to be destroyed because of trying to understand politics, the facts and how they relate to each other, to understand the group so as to act—and quite another to be destroyed because isolation strips you of all illusions about yourself, which can be a very hard pill to swallow.