Pusey apparently tells his friends that there have been three major failures in his years at Harvard. The first was the Faculty's decision to let the 1967 Dow protesters off with minor punishment. The second was the Faculty's emergency vote last April to give students a greater role in the Afro-American Studies Department. And the last is the continued existence of Jack Stauder-the Instructor who was arrested in University Hall-within Harvard's confines.
OBVIOUSLY, most students and many Faculty members would draw up a different list of calamities, probably including Pusey's use of police at University Hall. But it is also obvious from any exposure to the diversity of Harvard opinion that quite a few people would agree with Pusey. Even if they did not, the president of a university should not be forced to conform to prevailing thought as a condition for further employment.
The problem is a more basic structural one. If
the surface upset of the last year is going to have any curative effect here, there will have to be some changes in the way Harvard's power blocs are arranged. That at least is the premise of the groups which have been working on "governance" and "restructure" since last Spring.
As the most powerful single officer of the University, the president will undoubtedly be affected by the changes. Pusey realizes that; he probably even thinks that the re-examination and re-arrangement are healthy.
The difficulty arises because of a gap in timing. By all accounts, Pusey-while never a personally vain man-is very concerned about protecting the dignity of the Presidency. He will not agree to sweeping changes in the waning years of his term-not because he wants to hoard power for himself, but because he wants to be sure that the next President does not land in a game where the rules have just been rigged against him. Before there is "restructure," the man who will have to lead the restructured university will have to be available for consultation.
That is a laudable stand. But in practical application, it puts the University in a dilemma. Either Pusey leaves before his allotted time is up, or else Harvard endures the next two or three years without the changes it thinks it should make. Surely Pusey realizes the danger of such protracted inflexibility.
Fortunately, there is a happy opportunity ahead. Pusey has fulfilled his responsibility to Harvard's long-term health by pumping three new and competent members into the Corporation in the last two years. With that task out of the way, he can now think of his own departure. A singularly graceful retirement might begin with his announcement sometime soon that he is ready to leave as soon as the Corporation can find a successor.
On those terms, Pusey might still serve until retirement age. He may, for all I know, already have told the Corporation that those are his plans. If he has, he should tell the rest of the University quickly. The difference between the private agreement and the public announcement is only stylistic, but it is huge. It is the difference between a grudging Lyndon Johnson hanging on in the face of dissent and a gracefully aging president serving his last days. Those political comparisons may not appeal to Pusey the classical scholar, but perhaps the love-which many of us share-for his University will.