You can always count on a committed revolutionary to stay the course, even when the odds are stacked resolutely against them. Even if the established order is solid and shows no signs of cracking. Even if friends and supporters start drifting away, accusing the revolutionary of going off the deep end, of rejecting logic, of refusing a surer path toward change. In these situations, the true revolutionary doubles down, finding a way to spin their own failures as proof of their righteousness.

So it was with the self-styled revolutionary group known as the Weathermen.

In June 1969, The Weathermen, also known as the Weather Underground or the Weather Bureau, took over Students for a Democratic Society, the vanguard of the New Left. For much of the 1960s, SDS led the fight to expand free speech on college campuses, protest the Vietnam War, fight racism, and raise social consciousness on several issues. All these fronts meant a big plate for an organization run by college kids, but at the height of their popularity, SDS numbered 100,000 members. The organization had a presence on college and university campuses across the country.

The younger and less patient among them were not happy with the leadership of SDS. The radicals wanted change and they wanted it now. What that change looked like depended on who you talked to. Some wanted to support the oppressed blacks in the inner city. Others wanted to eat the rich and redistribute wealth. And most of the rest just wanted to get high, get laid, and smash windows.

It was this fracturing of the left that allowed the Weathermen to take over SDS. They didn’t hold the most popular view; they were just skillful at exploiting the chaos and seizing control.

After SDS buckled, the Weathermen used its organizational structure to move forward with its agenda to support any faction engaged in the fight for liberation from the oppression of U.S. imperialism. This included blacks, the Vietnamese, French students, Greek protestors, Mexican youths and essentially any group that would willingly, or through the subtle convincing of armed insurrection, embrace Marxism.

The Weathermen’s first step was to move beyond college campuses and into the world of working class youth. The group’s leaders, which included National Secretary Mark Rudd, Bernadine Dohrn, and Bill Ayers, believed that the average college student and the white working class of America were already brainwashed by the Establishment.

What the Weathermen were looking for was disaffected white youth who would gladly join the struggle. What they got were hoodlums, outlaw bikers, drug addicts, high school dropouts, and the aforementioned rabble who wanted to get high, get laid, and smash windows. Not exactly a cadre to stir the support of the masses.

The Weathermen took their new revolutionary show on the road, stirring confrontations in Detroit, Pittsburgh, Boston, and elsewhere. They carried red flags, shouted communist slogans, pushed people around, and waited for the locals to get pissed off and beat the snot out of them. This was considered on-the-job revolutionary training. You weren’t worth your salt to the Weathermen unless you were willing to shed blood and get arrested. In their view, this proved their revolutionary bona fides.

Other more seasoned radicals were not impressed. Members of the Black Panthers invented a new term for the Weathermen’s efforts — Custeristic, referring to George Armstrong Custer’s actions at Little Bighorn. The Weatherman disagreed, and then they doubled down.

A nationwide call went out for radicals to gather in Chicago for what the Weathermen were calling Days of Rage on October 8–11. This was meant to be a show of support for the Chicago Eight who were on trial for conspiracy and inciting a riot at the 1968 Democratic National Convention. It was also meant to be a demonstration of the power of the new revolutionary vanguard and a call to arms for others to join them.

The Weathermen expected a minimum of 5,000 young radicals ready to rage through the streets of the windy city. Barely 300 showed up. And, since the Days of Rage rally was well-publicized, Chicago cops were more than ready to meet the challenge in riot gear.

Rudd was admittedly nervous about what to do next. He was ultimately able to convince himself and others that their job was to start the revolution, and that their personal safety didn’t matter.

On October 8, the 300 ragers hit the streets, armed with chains, axes, and hammers. Their goal was to reach the Drake Hotel, home of Julius Hoffman, the judge presiding over the Chicago Eight trial. The first target of the night were the windows of the Chicago Historical Society. Then came more store windows and automobile windshields along the city’s affluent Gold Coast. The glass-breaking spree came to a halt when the ragers ran into a line of Chicago cops. Tear gas was met with rocks, and there were significant injuries on both sides. Three ragers were shot, and 65 were arrested.

The Weathermen regrouped the next day, and continued their demonstrations in and around Chicago’s Loop. Over the next three days, more windows were smashed, and an attack was made on an armed forces induction center. On October 11, the remaining Weathermen who had not already been rounded up met the cops head-on with clubs, bicycle chains, and flares. Needless to say, they didn’t fare any better than on October 8.

Nearly all of the 300 ragers who came to Chicago got arrested. Most were charged with crossing state lines to incite a riot and let off with fines. Rudd got off with probation and a $2,000 fine. Some went to jail for a few months. Personal injury and property loss was tallied at $183,000. Seventy-three police officers were injured, and city attorney Richard Elrod suffered a broken neck and was permanently paralyzed after a confrontation with a demonstrator. Chicago police only admitted to a handful of injuries among the demonstrators, but there were assuredly more than that.

The Weathermen split town after settling their legal troubles and promptly declared victory in their tussle with the Chicago law. Nobody else saw it that way. The miserable turnout for the Days of Rage demonstrated that there were not a lot of people who sympathized with the Weathermen’s worldview. And if they did, they weren’t motivated to show their support by traveling to another city to get their skulls cracked open by a policeman’s billy club. Many Americans of all stripes sided with the good citizens of Chicago who were forced to deal with the lawless menace of disaffected youth two years in a row. Enough was enough.

The Weathermen had utterly failed to start a second American Revolution. They hadn’t even come close. But it wasn’t for lack of trying. Rather than recognize that for all its faults, America was still a good country, the Weathermen did what they did best. They doubled down. Declaring war on the United States, the Weathermen went underground and engaged in one of the largest sustained bombing campaigns ever experienced in peacetime America.