An
editorial in the Detroit Free Press thundered against the love-in: “It was not
the love which got out of hand on Belle Isle Sunday. It was the hate. The
outcasts of a decent society, the organized motorcycle gangs like the Outlaws,
revel in harm and destruction. …The love-in was invaded by the greasy-haired,
filthily dressed hoodlums who would probably come unglued in a bathtub. Instead
of soda pop, pretzels and garlands of dandelions, they brought beer, wine,
motorcycles and an itch for a rumble.” Yet again there were calls to get tough
on crime. Letters to the papers encouraged the police to be less lenient on the
city’s youth and their belligerent subcultures and for the hippies to join the
real world. Many commentators dismissed
the love-in as part of a wider malaise of a society that had no respect for
authority. Earlier in the month, Vice-President Hubert Humphrey had traveled to
West Berlin, where his visit was disrupted by hippies carrying what appeared to
be a bomb. On inspection, the incendiary device was nothing more than a pie. The
European new left understood that stunts, pranks, and spectacles generated
disproportionate amounts of free publicity. In Germany the left-wing journalist
Ulrike Meinhof wrote in the underground magazine Konkret, “It is thought rude
to throw custard pies at politicians, but not to welcome politicians who have
villages wiped out and cities bombed. …Napalm yes, custard no.” The slogan
Custard Yes, Naplam No became one of many used to demonstrate against chemical
warfare in Vietnam.
