Cultic Studies Journal, Vol. 9, No. 1, 1992, Page 40
community norms, an individual will find that community standards become the only
standards available for self-evaluation. (pp. 3-4)
Even though the WDU was, in a sense, an “old-style” communist cadre organization, it went
beyond the kind of training attributed by Ofshe and Singer to first-generation programs. The
WDU fits more appropriately with the second-generation organizations because of the depth
and intensity of the incessant criticism and the total immersion of one’s life, the complete
deployability of the member at the disposal of the leader-ship. “Second-generation programs
of coercive influence and behavior control appear to directly attack the core sense of being --
the central self-image, the very sense of realness and existence of the self. ...Alter the self
or perish is the motto” (Ofshe and Singer, 1986, p. 18).
In the WDU it was the same: “Those who do not change should be expelled,” pro-claimed
Doreen Baxter.
“We Own Her Now”
WDU members were led to believe that they were the best that there was, and, therefore,
they had to do their best. Nevertheless, in the party’s eyes, whatever they did was never
enough, or never good enough. There was no praise, only criticism. Members were taught
that cadres thrive on criticism, that cadres miss criticism if they don’t get it. Cadres don’t like
it, but they love it, the party leadership said. On the rare occasion when someone tried to
raise the idea that perhaps a comrade was being treated too severely, he or she was quickly
blasted as being a wimp and a liberal and reminded of one of Baxter’s favorite sayings:
“Criticism can’t make you bleed. Get on with it!” It was a complete double-bind situation. In
the name of building a more just and humane world, we proceeded to create a brutal and
dehumanized little society.
Anyone in the WDU’s orbit literally was dissected from the minute he or she entered the
recruitment process (even when only a name on a list). Once a member, each person was
targeted by leadership for “breaking,” “testing,” “induced cadre crises,” whatever would work
to get that person to “submit.” Members’ identities were erased, their roots torn out from
under them, the entire fabric of their lives previous to the party called into question by an
unsparing elitist moral code. Members gave their everything in return, they were subjected
to hours, days, weeks, months, and years of endless, insufferable criticism, demeaning
judgments, and attitudes of scorn from leadership. Foul and deprecatory language was used
both to militants’ faces in criticism sessions, as well as behind their backs in leadership
meetings. Leadership generated the most vicious stereotypes of each member caught in a
party-created mold. Members were scrutinized, badgered, crushed, manipulated, and hence
molded into a party image --until the only reality to hold onto was the narrow and highly
controlled internal reality of the party. It became an environment of denial, disgrace, and
obsequiousness to corrupt leaders.
One former member recalled being in a high-level leadership meeting with Baxter, where they
were boasting that a prized new member (a woman of color with great leadership potential)
had just decided to break her engagement to a man who was never likely to join the party.
This was understood to be a sign of her increasing commitment to the party. “Hah, we own
her now!” Baxter exclaimed triumphantly. And all the others nodded in agreement and
laughed along with her.
Control as a Mechanism
Although the entire organization did not live communally, everyone was encouraged to live in
a house with other members (a “party house”). Since militants lived on poverty-level incomes
or less, this quickly became a necessity. Anywhere from three to eight members shared a
house or an apartment. Each house had a code name and a house captain (chosen by
Staff/Security), whose job was to ensure that party regulations were being followed and to
community norms, an individual will find that community standards become the only
standards available for self-evaluation. (pp. 3-4)
Even though the WDU was, in a sense, an “old-style” communist cadre organization, it went
beyond the kind of training attributed by Ofshe and Singer to first-generation programs. The
WDU fits more appropriately with the second-generation organizations because of the depth
and intensity of the incessant criticism and the total immersion of one’s life, the complete
deployability of the member at the disposal of the leader-ship. “Second-generation programs
of coercive influence and behavior control appear to directly attack the core sense of being --
the central self-image, the very sense of realness and existence of the self. ...Alter the self
or perish is the motto” (Ofshe and Singer, 1986, p. 18).
In the WDU it was the same: “Those who do not change should be expelled,” pro-claimed
Doreen Baxter.
“We Own Her Now”
WDU members were led to believe that they were the best that there was, and, therefore,
they had to do their best. Nevertheless, in the party’s eyes, whatever they did was never
enough, or never good enough. There was no praise, only criticism. Members were taught
that cadres thrive on criticism, that cadres miss criticism if they don’t get it. Cadres don’t like
it, but they love it, the party leadership said. On the rare occasion when someone tried to
raise the idea that perhaps a comrade was being treated too severely, he or she was quickly
blasted as being a wimp and a liberal and reminded of one of Baxter’s favorite sayings:
“Criticism can’t make you bleed. Get on with it!” It was a complete double-bind situation. In
the name of building a more just and humane world, we proceeded to create a brutal and
dehumanized little society.
Anyone in the WDU’s orbit literally was dissected from the minute he or she entered the
recruitment process (even when only a name on a list). Once a member, each person was
targeted by leadership for “breaking,” “testing,” “induced cadre crises,” whatever would work
to get that person to “submit.” Members’ identities were erased, their roots torn out from
under them, the entire fabric of their lives previous to the party called into question by an
unsparing elitist moral code. Members gave their everything in return, they were subjected
to hours, days, weeks, months, and years of endless, insufferable criticism, demeaning
judgments, and attitudes of scorn from leadership. Foul and deprecatory language was used
both to militants’ faces in criticism sessions, as well as behind their backs in leadership
meetings. Leadership generated the most vicious stereotypes of each member caught in a
party-created mold. Members were scrutinized, badgered, crushed, manipulated, and hence
molded into a party image --until the only reality to hold onto was the narrow and highly
controlled internal reality of the party. It became an environment of denial, disgrace, and
obsequiousness to corrupt leaders.
One former member recalled being in a high-level leadership meeting with Baxter, where they
were boasting that a prized new member (a woman of color with great leadership potential)
had just decided to break her engagement to a man who was never likely to join the party.
This was understood to be a sign of her increasing commitment to the party. “Hah, we own
her now!” Baxter exclaimed triumphantly. And all the others nodded in agreement and
laughed along with her.
Control as a Mechanism
Although the entire organization did not live communally, everyone was encouraged to live in
a house with other members (a “party house”). Since militants lived on poverty-level incomes
or less, this quickly became a necessity. Anywhere from three to eight members shared a
house or an apartment. Each house had a code name and a house captain (chosen by
Staff/Security), whose job was to ensure that party regulations were being followed and to
