The year 1967 is famously known as the “Summer of Love,” a period when San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury district became a magnet for young people. Between 75,000 and 100,000 individuals flocked to this 25-block neighborhood, transforming it from a local hub for art and bohemian culture into a global symbol of countercultural revolution. For many, the Summer of Love embodies a hopeful, albeit idealistic, moment when American youth championed ideals of peace, love, and freedom of expression.
Even five decades later, the romanticized vision of the Summer of Love persists in popular culture. However, delving into underground newspapers from that era, such as those in Reveal Digital’s Independent Voices Collection, reveals a more complex and less idyllic reality. A June 1967 edition of the Berkeley Barb, for example, featured an advertisement from the Berkeley PROVOS, a group formed to manage the overwhelming influx of people. While aligned with the Summer of Love’s spirit, the advertisement was essentially a cry for help, stating the urgent need for “food, clothes, places to stay, beds, sheets, soap, blankets, coat hangers and HELP.”
Contrary to the popular image of universal acceptance, the rise of hippie culture and the demonstrations associated with the Summer of Love were met with considerable controversy. Even within the movement, participants held diverse understandings of its meaning and purpose. While there was a palpable sense of change and excitement, it was far from a straightforward embrace of peace and love by mainstream American culture.
The Unintended Role of Mass Media in the Summer of Love
A significant factor in the Summer of Love’s emergence was the pervasive influence of mass media – music, television, and magazines. As media outlets began documenting the burgeoning counterculture in Haight-Ashbury, particularly following the Human Be-In event, they inadvertently amplified its reach. Chet Helms, a key figure in the San Francisco scene, noted that after the Human Be-In, a small group of counterculture enthusiasts in Haight-Ashbury extended an invitation to young people nationwide to join them in San Francisco. This group formed the “Council of the Summer of Love” to organize activities in Golden Gate Park.
Articles in prominent magazines like the New Yorker, alongside Scott McKenzie’s hit song “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair),” solidified the idea that San Francisco was the epicenter of something significant in the summer of 1967. The massive influx of young people was largely an unforeseen consequence of this media attention, rather than a planned outcome by the Council.
As the Summer of Love unfolded, many dedicated members of the counterculture realized that the media was shaping the narrative of the “hippie” and the entire movement. This realization led to growing suspicion and even hostility towards journalists, photographers, and documentarians. Joan Didion, a columnist, recounted being labeled a “media poisoner” by leaders within the Diggers, a radical activist group.
Jef[f] Jassen of the Berkeley Barb reflected nostalgically on the pre-Summer of Love atmosphere of Haight-Ashbury, noting, “Nowhere was a camera visible.” Perhaps the most telling example of media’s complex role is the “Death of the Hippie Parade,” intended to mark the end of the Summer of Love. Documented in underground papers like the Berkeley Barb, this event featured a funeral procession through Haight-Ashbury. Participants carried a coffin filled with hippie symbols – beads, mandalas, and hair. A funeral notice circulated in the neighborhood declared: “Funeral Notice / HIPPIE / In the Haight Ashbury District of this city, Hippie, devoted son of Mass Media…” The parade was a direct critique of the media’s role in creating a stereotypical image of the hippie, aiming to replace it with the concept of a “free man.” Jassen wryly commented,
I didn’t appoint the Chronicle to label me a ‘hippie.’ Similarly, I didn’t appoint the Oracle, Happening House, the Diggers, or anyone else to free me from whatever plastic coating society is trying to seal me in. If precious time has to be spent now to release people from the name of ‘hippie’ then I can only wonder about those same people who spent countless hours telling me that there is no such thing as a ‘hippie’.
Jassen’s remarks highlight not only the counterculture’s distrust of mass media but also the internal disagreements about the very definition and significance of being a “hippie.” The media, as perceived by counterculture participants, was instrumental in both creating and becoming a target of criticism during the Summer of Love. Underground newspapers from this period provide invaluable insights into the evolving and often conflicted relationship between the counterculture and mass media. For those studying the cultural impact of media, the Summer of Love offers a rich case study.
Performance and Protest: Guerrilla Theater
The counterculture’s complicated relationship with media was further nuanced by their embrace of guerrilla theater. During the Summer of Love, the San Francisco Mime Troupe utilized street performances to convey political messages. Known for their provocative and thought-provoking theater, the Mime Troupe, led by figures like R.G. Davis and Peter Berg, regularly voiced social and political critiques, often documented in underground publications.
Following the Summer of Love, R.G. Davis collaborated with Abbie Hoffman, who also understood the power of media, on various demonstrations. These actions were strategically designed to leverage mass media to advance countercultural goals. The Summer of Love, therefore, became a pivotal moment when counterculture participants began exploring innovative ways to utilize media for their own purposes.
The Commercial Turn: Late Capitalism and the Counterculture
Many argue that the counterculture’s decline began when corporate America started capitalizing on hippie culture. This perspective suggests that businesses, driven by profit, recognized the financial potential in marketing to countercultural sentiments. Entrepreneurs and advertisers co-opted the symbols and practices of the genuine counterculture, stripping them of their revolutionary essence. According to this view, the Summer of Love’s perceived failure wasn’t due to the Haight-Ashbury community’s inability to handle a large influx of visitors, but rather because those visitors attracted commercial interests that prioritized profit over community ideals.
Chester Anderson’s pamphlet, Uncle Tim, fiercely criticizes these entrepreneurs, blaming “HIP merchants” for the Summer of Love’s darker aspects. While Anderson’s pamphlet may be exaggerated, it provides a scathing critique of figures like the San Francisco Oracle, the Council for the Summer of Love, and even LSD advocate Timothy Leary, accusing them of commercializing the movement. The passionate, hyperbolic tone of the pamphlet reflects the deep internal divisions within the counterculture regarding their movement’s direction, community identity, and the true meaning of the Summer of Love.
Editor’s note: The original article incorrectly named Rennie Davis as a member of the San Francisco Mime Troupe, rather than R.G. Davis.
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