In the early evening hours of Nov. 18, 1978, around 900 people made their way to the main pavilion. It was a Saturday in northwestern Guyana, and Jonestown seemed fairly reserved despite the emotional and violent events that had transpired earlier.
The previous day, U.S. Congressman Leo Ryan and an entourage of aides, members of the press and concerned relatives had arrived in the remote settlement established by Jim Jones and his Peoples Temple four years prior. After narrowly escaping a stabbing attempt and less than 24 hours after first walking through the gates of Jonestown, Ryan and four others would be dead, gunned down by Jones’ security force while attempting to depart the area from a small airport nearby.
What transpired next would go down as the largest religiously-motivated mass murder-suicide in modern history.
Fearing retribution from the U.S. government and with mounting criminal accusations of fraud and abuse increasing his ever-growing paranoia, a drug-addled Jones convinced his devout followers that their only escape was to leave this world by drinking a concoction of grape Flavor-Aid (not Kool-Aid, despite popular belief) mixed with a myriad of medications, and topped off with cyanide. Nine-hundred and nine people – a third of them children – were found dead the next day by Guyanese officials. Considering all facets of what is now known as the Jonestown Massacre, the final number dead was 918. The staggering death toll represented the largest single-day loss of American civilian life until Sept. 11, 2001.
Jonestown happened 44 years ago, six years before I was born. Regardless of not being around when these horrible events unfolded, I don’t think I’ve ever cringed more writing about any other topic here in my bi-weekly column. While perusing potential subjects for a milestone history piece this issue it was easily the most prominent of what I found for the week, and I felt that I had to write about it despite the discomfort it inflicts.
I’m not sure how old I was when I happened across Guyana Tragedy: The Story of Jim Jones one Sunday afternoon (likely on CTV or Global), with Powers Boothe playing the title role. I do know that I definitely wasn’t a teenager at that point. But I remember being fascinated and horrified by the story, with the closing scene of bodies strewn around that main pavilion haunting me for the nights that followed. I only saw it once, and it’s still vivid in my mind over 25 years later.
From a peripheral sense, in its early days the Peoples Temple was a complete rarity during a time when racial unrest was at the forefront of the U.S. Founded in Indiana in the mid-1950s, Jones didn’t discriminate when its came to members of the Temple, and in fact the majority of its followers were African-American. This alone of course would have captured the gaze of the government and its various security agencies given the time period, but the fact that Jones preached a strong affiliation for socialism and a distinct fondness for the Soviet Union, China, North Korea and Cuba really got them paying close attention. Perhaps (sadly) more so than the numerous accusations of physical and sexual abuse directed at Jones and his most devout inner circle, as well as the fact that members were literally signing over all of their financial assets to the Peoples Temple.
Facing increasing media scrutiny and worried that he may be apprehended by the authorities at any time, Jones set in motion an exodus of the Temple to Guyana, ultimately gaining a lease for a large agricultural commune in 1974; Jones himself relocated to Jonestown in ‘77. One of the big reasons that Guyana permitted the mass migration of nearly 1,000 U.S. citizens – aside from the alleged bribes – was that Jonestown’s relative proximity to the Venezuelan border might deter that country from taking any hostile action towards Guyana. Apparently relations between the two South American nations weren’t great at the time.
From the beginning, daily life was tough in Jonestown. The soil that the Peoples Temple depended on to grow their crops wasn’t of the highest quality, and regular rations were not robust. Members worked long hours in the fields, and then their sole form of entertainment at night was listening to Jones roll off one of his hours-long sermons. The tedium of the latter would have only increased as Jones’ physical and mental health deteriorated, due in part to multiple drug addictions.
It’s true that you really can find anything on the internet. While researching this piece, I came across a 40-plus minute audio recording containing excerpts of the last couple hours of Jonestown. I listened to the entire thing, and it’s easily the most disturbing thing my ears have heard in their 38 years.
Without getting too graphic, the majority of it is Jones’ often slurred voice calmly coercing his people into what he calls ‘revolutionary suicide.’ The decision to finally act (Jones had conducted periodic ‘drills’ in the months leading up to Nov. 18, 1978 to prepare the people for the possibility of having to commit mass suicide) came quickly after Congressman Ryan’s murder. He saw no other way out, knowing that no other communist nation would accept the group.
“You think Russia’s going to want us with all this stigma?” Jones said on the tape. “The choice is not ours now, it’s out of our hands.
“We must die with some dignity.”
After convincing his congregation that ‘the medication’ as he called it wouldn’t cause pain or convulsions, just a peaceful passing into the next world, Jones evidently knew better and he would have seen the full effects firsthand. He was the only person in Jonestown to die of a self-inflicted gunshot to the head.
On paper, the Peoples Temple belief system wasn’t what you’d expect from most cults, which is what it is generally now accepted to be. Jones’ primary messages outlined elements of Christianity combined with socialist ideologies that placed an emphasis on racial equality, economic parity and general peace. It sounds reasonable at its core values, but extremism can take many shapes.
At the Temple’s very core was a systematic basis of control, fear and unwavering love and support for its supreme leader, who in actuality was as despicable as they come. Followers considered Jones a prophet and a healer, and even affectionately referred to him as ‘Dad.’ He was one of the modern age’s most effective manipulators, solidified by the fact that most of those under his control were willing to give up their lives and the lives of their children at his command.
“For me, death is not a fearful thing,” he said. “It’s living that is treacherous.”
Thanks for reading and I’ll see you back here in a fortnight.
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This is a bi-weekly opinion column; for question or comment contact Dan McNee at dmcnee@midwesternnewspapers.com.
