Opposition to War

The burgeoning defiance against the Vietnam War in the dynamic 1960s found its roots entangled with the civil rights movement that had surged in the previous decade. Despite the formal end of slavery in 1865, America continued to be a land divided by segregation until well into the 1950s. The Southern states clung to discriminatory regulations, infamously known as "Jim Crow" laws, which denied African Americans access to the same public facilities that their white counterparts freely used, encompassing transport, housing, and education. Emerging in 1957, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), under the revered guidance of Reverend Martin Luther King Jr., united African American churches and clergy to orchestrate peaceful protests against systemic racism. The movement opened its doors to northern whites, predominantly daring young college students, who stood shoulder to shoulder with southern blacks at marches and voter registration events, even at great personal risk.

By 1965, the SCLC redirected its efforts towards combating northern poverty. This shift alienated many white participants, including the notorious Abbie Hoffman, who felt sidelined. Utilizing the protest skills honed in the civil rights arena, they redirected their energies towards voicing discontent over the escalating conflict in Vietnam.

The conflict between North and South Vietnam simmered unnoticed by most Americans since 1949. The United States, gripped by the dread of communist expansion, provided South Vietnam with financial and military assistance. The initial deployment of U.S. troops by President John F. Kennedy in 1961 escalated under President Lyndon Johnson, who leveraged the Gulf of Tonkin incident—a reported attack on a U.S. ship by North Vietnamese forces—to secure Congressional approval to intensify military action. By the close of 1965, the number of American troops stationed in Vietnam swelled to 200,000. As the years dragged on, with relentless bombings of Vietnamese villages and the mounting toll of American casualties, the rationale of halting communism began to crumble in the eyes of many. University campuses became hotbeds of dissent, their disillusionment with the war morphing into a broader distrust of government, fueled by activists like Hoffman who had earlier championed civil rights.

The Chicago Seven Trial

In 1968, a clarion call echoed through antiwar circles, urging members to converge upon the Democratic National Convention in Chicago. Their mission: to vocalize their opposition to President Johnson and his vice president, Hubert Humphrey, both staunch proponents of the war. However, they were met with overwhelming governmental resistance. Faced by 5,000 protesters were 12,000 police officers, bolstered by 6,000 army troops and 5,000 National Guardsmen. From August 25 to 29, the streets adjacent to the convention center became battlegrounds, with police under Mayor Richard Daley's command brutally clashing with unarmed demonstrators. The chant "The whole world is watching!" resonated powerfully, and indeed, through the lens of television, the American public largely empathized with the battered protesters rather than their aggressors. A government-commissioned inquiry later dubbed the violent crackdown a "police riot."

Following Richard Nixon's election on a platform of law and order, the Justice Department pursued charges against the protest organizers, accusing them of conspiring to cross state lines to incite a felony, even though many of the accused had never met before Chicago. Abbie Hoffman and Jerry Rubin, founders of the Youth International Party or "Yippie," were among the charged. Their movement was famed for using provocative and humorous antics to spotlight issues, like nominating a pig for the presidency. Other defendants hailed from the Black Panther Party, the Students for a Democratic Society, and the National Mobilization to End the War.

As autumn 1969 unfolded, Hoffman and Rubin turned the trial proceedings into a spectacle,...

Zeitgeist

The evocative term zeitgeist, hailing from German origins, encapsulates ‘‘the spirit of the time.’’ It frequently allows us to weave the threads of an author's era with the prevailing moral and intellectual currents that colored their writing. Take, for instance, the opulence and indulgence of the jazz age—a crucial lens for deciphering The Great Gatsby. Meanwhile, the essence of 1960s America is inseparable from Hoffman's Steal This Book, as its vibrant style mirrors the chaotic energy of its time. The book’s fragmented structure, replete with redundant advice and whimsical diversions, reflects the author's capricious nature. Consider the odd inclusion of a ‘‘knife fighting’’ section, which tangentially touches on police oppression; it's more a reflection of Hoffman’s personal experiences than a direct commentary. The era's spirit—unbridled and rebellious—permits the book's meandering into digressions that might be dismissed as extraneous in other contexts.

Tone

Equally as vital as the guidance offered in Steal This Book is the distinctive tone Hoffman weaves throughout the narrative. It is this tone that vividly illustrates his viewpoint. While the practicality of many suggestions may provoke skepticism, there is a steadfast attitude that permeates the text. Some of its counsel proved beneficial, though numerous notions were far-fetched even upon its initial release. Over the years, many of the corporate entities Hoffman rallied readers to ‘‘rip off’’ have bolstered their defenses, shielding themselves from the mischief he incites. Nonetheless, the book remains a valuable artifact, capturing a worldview emblematic of the 1960s and 1970s through its tone.

The tone is vividly defined by the recurrent use of the term ‘‘pig.’’ While this term has evolved into a derogatory slur aimed primarily at law enforcement, Hoffman employs it to paint a broader portrait of those he views as avaricious, lethargic, and narrow-minded. These, in his eyes, are the hallmarks of the powerful, casting anyone entangled in the economic machinery as a ‘‘pig,’’ and thus a justifiable target for theft, ‘‘trashing,’’ and aggression. Though often directed at the police, this is more due to their role as potential enforcers of the system should readers heed the book's call to action. More broadly, police, corporate operatives, politicians, and business magnates all populate what Hoffman dubs the ‘‘Pig Empire.’’

1971: Stirred by the fiery winds of discontent over U.S. actions in Vietnam, a significant number of American citizens ignite with defiance against the established social norms, sometimes resorting to forceful measures.

Today: An anxious society, shadowed by the looming threat of terrorism, seeks solace and security under the vigilant watch of the American government.

1971: The nation experiences an unprecedented surge in economic prosperity, allowing the youth to embrace financial assurance with casual indifference, often dismissing the morally hollow chase for wealth.

Today: A treacherous economic landscape leaves financial stability elusive, making reliance on community sharing or generosity increasingly difficult.

1971: Steal This Book boldly declares that towering, unfeeling corporations deserve to be pilfered.

Today: With leaps in travel and communications, corporations have evolved into sprawling global entities, more detached than ever. Echoes of the 1960s resonate in protests targeting the G-20 Conference and the World Trade Organization, bastions of corporate domination.

1971: Abbie Hoffman pens a manual that extends a hand to those outside the hippie circle, offering them the clandestine wisdom usually transmitted through whispers and shared tales.

Today: Such informal wisdom is now widely accessible online, a digital network of shared insights.

1971: The world is a stage dominated by two superpowers: America, championing capitalism and private enterprise, and the Soviet Union, epitomizing communism and state control.

Today: In the aftermath of the Soviet Union's collapse in 1989, the American capitalist model casts a broad shadow over global economics.

The 2000 cinematic creation, Steal This Movie, often mistaken for an adaptation of the book, is in fact a vivid portrayal of Hoffman's life. Under the direction of Robert Greenwald, this biographical film brings to life the performances of Vincent D’Onofrio, Janeane Garofalo, and Jeanne Tripplehorn. For those eager to experience this journey, the film is accessible through Trimark Home Video.

Sources

Hoffman, Abbie, Steal This Book, Four Walls Eight Windows, 2002.

Hoffman, Jack, and Daniel Simon, Run Run Run: The Lives of Abbie Hoffman, G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1994, p. 179.

Rader, Dotson, Review of Steal This Book, in the New York Times Sunday Book Review, July 15, 1971.

Further Reading

Becker, Theodore L., and Anthony L. Donaldson, Live This Book: Abbie Hoffman’s Philosophy for a Free and Green America, The Noble Press, Inc., 1991.
This is one of the few sources that seriously considers the philosophical and spiritual bases for Hoffman’s brand of media manipulation. Written after his death, the book takes into account his whole life, including his post-sixties political organizing under an assumed name.

Farber, David, Chicago ‘68, University of Chicago Press, 1995.
The events in Chicago of 1968 were important in American history and in understanding the full significance of Abbie Hoffman’s place in it. This book is a scholarly explanation of the dynamic forces involved, including a detailed explanation of Hoffman’s Yippie philosophy.

Isserman, Maurice, and Michael Kazin, America Divided: The Civil War of the 1960s, Oxford University Press, 2000.
The authors take a balanced, scholarly look at the political turmoil of the decade, careful to avoid common mistakes of romanticizing the hippie movement or unfairly blaming it for society’s ills.

Sloman, Larry, Steal This Dream: Abbie Hoffman and the Counterculture Revolution in America, Doubleday, 1998.
This oral history compiles hundreds of interviews from people who knew Hoffman and presents their impressions of him in their own words.