Strange Message from Patty

The Polaroid color photograph might have been the cover of a paperback thriller--or a recruiting poster for the revolutionary left. But the comely, wholesome-looking girl holding a submachine gun was Patricia Hearst, and an accompanying tape recording of her voice carried a bizarre message: Patty, 20, had decided to forsake her millionaire parents and join the fanatics who kidnaped her two months ago.

"I have been given the choice of being released in a safe area, or joining the forces of the Symbionese Liberation Army and fighting for my freedom and the freedom of all oppressed people," Patty announced. "I have chosen to stay and fight."

Patty's statement came just when the bewildering series of events surrounding her abduction in Berkeley, Calif., seemed to be moving toward a happy conclusion. At the direction of the S.L.A., the Hearst family and the Hearst Foundation (which supports medical charities) had given $2 million worth of food to the needy in the San Francisco Bay area. To demonstrate his seriousness, Hearst early last week persuaded the Hearst Corp., which controls eight newspapers and eleven magazines, to put an additional $4 million into an escrow account, where it was to be held for the S.L.A. until his daughter's release.

Within hours, there was encouraging news: the S.L.A. announced that the time and place of Patty's release would be disclosed in the next three days. The Hearsts were elated. "We believe that the communication is genuine," said Hearst. The blow came the next day: the release to a radio station of Patty's picture and her belligerent tape recording.

Stunned Parents. There was a hard edge to Patty's voice as she declared: "Dad, you said that you were concerned with my life, and you also said you were concerned with the life and interests of all oppressed people in this country. But you are a liar in both areas, and I know for sure that your and Mom's interests are never the interests of the people." Attacking white society, she said that she had learned how "vicious the pig really is." She added: "Our comrades are teaching me to attack with even greater viciousness, in the knowledge that the people will win."

Though Patty insisted on the tape that she had not been "brainwashed, drugged, tortured, hypnotized or in any way confused," her stunned parents refused to believe that she had not been coerced into siding with the S.L.A. Nor would they believe that their daughter, who had been genuinely close to them both, could intentionally cause them such grief. Said Mrs. Hearst: "Only Patty in person can convince me that the terrible, weary words that she uttered came from her heart and were delivered by her own free will."

Hearst added that he had assumed that the S.L.A. had been going to release his daughter, as promised. Said he: "I've guessed wrong on the S.L.A. all along. I think they're just cruel people."

Why did Patty make the tape? The most pessimistic view was bluntly voiced by Vincent Hallinan, a 77-year-old San Francisco lawyer for the Hearsts, who said that he feared the kidnapers had forced the girl to deliver the statement, then killed her and fled, releasing the tape as a diversion. On the other hand, the girl could conceivably have spoken out because of fear, or to buy time, or to convince the terrorists that she had joined them so that she could later break free.

No one who knew Patty well thought she had become a dedicated revolutionary of her own free will in just 60 days of captivity. She was hardly a radical. Only a few weeks before the kidnaping, she had been happily picking out china in anticipation of her marriage to Steven Weed, 26, a graduate student at the University of California at Berkeley. But Dr. Frederick J. Hacker, a psychiatrist and expert on terrorism consulted by the Hearsts, does not discount the possibility that she made the tape voluntarily. He theorizes that the enormous psychological pressures of liv ng in danger for such a length of time could have induced Patty to change her opinions, at least temporarily. "Until we have full disclosure of what happened," Dr. Hacker said, "I would urge that the community look at this thing with a great deal of caution and charity."

Both the police and the FBI were proceeding on the assumption that Patty was still alive and being held against her will. One aspect of the case that they were looking into was whether there was any connection between the S.L.A. and the random street killings of twelve whites in San Francisco during the past five months. So far they have apparently found no link, though the FBI has identified most of the S.L.A. members who took part in the kidnaping. In one of their periodic taped messages, the abductors complained that the FBI was so close to them that they "couldn't breathe." That is true. At one time or other, the agents have been just hours behind the kidnapers.

FBI agents think that the S.L.A. spokesman who calls himself "General Field Marshal Cinque" may be only a front man used to divert attention from the cadre's real leaders, who may include Mrs. Nancy Ling Perry, 26, and other radical white women. Mrs. Perry is the daughter of a Santa Rosa, Calif., furniture dealer and a graduate of Berkeley--the same school that Patty was attending when she was seized. Until last fall, Mrs. Perry was living with Joseph Remiro, 27, and Russell Jack Little, 24, two white S.L.A. members who have been charged with the killing last November of Dr. Marcus A. Foster, a black who was Oakland's superintendent of schools.

Shot on Sight. Cinque is believed to be an escaped black convict named Donald D. DeFreeze. The theory that DeFreeze is not the true leader of the S.L.A. is supported by a man with a rare personal knowledge of the man and the organization. Colston Westbrook, 36, a black instructor in linguistics at Berkeley, met DeFreeze while visiting California's Vacaville prison to take part in the activities of the Black Cultural Association. The S.L.A. partly evolved from the group. Westbrook recalls De-Freeze as "a cat submerged in divine blackness and interested in black problems." But now, Westbrook says, "I think the honkies are calling the shots. He'd better wake up."

Westbrook made his comments to TIME Correspondent Joseph N. Boyce, who found the linguist living in a small apartment house near the Berkeley campus. The drapes were drawn, the door was double-latched, and on the kitchen table was an electronic device that Westbrook said could be used to alert the police.

Westbrook had good reason to be holed up. On the same tape with Patty Hearst's latest message was a warning from Cinque that the S.L.A. had named three persons "to be shot on sight" as "enemies of the people." One of the three was Westbrook. The other two: Robyn Steiner, a white girl who used to live with the S.L.A.'s Russell Little; and Chris Thompson, a black resident of Berkeley, who knew several members of the S.L.A. but denies ever having joined.

Westbrook felt that he was marked for execution "because I'm a threat in general to the S.L.A. I know quite a bit about them. I can analyze their moods and see through them." He admitted that he had detailed information about the S.L.A. and that he had talked about the organization to the Oakland police and the FBI.

As the tense week drew to a close, the Hearsts were left to ponder the implications of some final words from Cinque's taped message. "There is no further need," Cinque said, "to discuss the release of the prisoner since the prisoner is now a comrade and fighter for the people's freedom. Therefore there is no further basis for negotiation since the subject may leave whenever she feels that she wishes to do so. This operation is hereby terminated."

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