Even more clever has been the "logic" the administration has used to explain discrimination against the Afro-American Studies department. One tenured person would not be enough to make recommendations for additional tenured positions; therefore, special sub-committees of the FAS would usurp the responsibility of the department in making such recommendations. In the early years, the standing committee was responsible for the selection and appointment of two tenured faculty in the department. After three years, the standing committee was abolished, and there was only one tenured member of the department, the chairman, Professor Guinier. Next came the sub-committee created by the new dean, Henry Rosovsky, in 1973-74, upon which he and Guinier both sat. That they found no peace together is no surprise: one knew the needs and aims of Black studies, and the other claimed to know. They could not agree on the second nomination. Rosovsky then issued a University-wide decree vesting in all the departments the authority to search for nominees for tenure in Afro. Thus it came to be that all the departments, in pure ignorance of the field, got to decide the direction of Black studies at Harvard.

Meanwhile, the nomination of Ephraim Isaac had been yellowing with age. First proposed in 1971, his nomination passed through all the committees before being acted upon in 1975. Rejected by a committee of scholars alien to his field of expertise, Isaac had been deceived into believing that tenure was a possibility. The assorted rationale offered as an excuse for his rejection underlined the fallacy in his thinking. The committee which judged him said they were not supposed to be considering appointments solely within the Afro department; Rosovsky said that the decision was not necessarily a judgment of scholarship, but of the needs of the department. Either way, the administration was controlling the development of the department. It would either be joint faculty, or a department whose needs were dictated by the administration. Never let it be said at Harvard that a Black man or woman presumed to make a decision about their education. Whites have always known best for blacks. And if Rosovsky cannot have his way entirely, he is determined to keep Black students from having their way. He hasn't been able to remove the department, but his hands are deep in its governance. Which brings us to the present.

As the king goes, so goes the country. With the forced retirement of the chairman, a new phase of the department began. In January of 1975, Eileen Southern replaced Ewart Guinier as the chairperson of the department. Southern was the "logical" choice, since she was the only other person in the department with tenure. Tenure has been a key issue in the development of the department, and a major tool in the University's attempt to shape the department. The creation of a situation where Eileen Southern, jointly tenured in Music and Afro, would be the sole candidate for the chair was hardly accidental. Whether a conscious or willing accomplice, Southern has carried out what is, in fact, the administration's design for the department; several significant changes that have recently taken place in the department illustrate this.

In contrast to the prominent roles which they once played in the department, Africa and the Third World have been de-emphasized in the "new" department. The status of Africa and the Third World has been reduced in terms of both the number and scope of courses, and the general outlook of the department. In her proposals for concentration requirements, Southern has indicated that she does not view these areas as integral in the Afro-American world-view; provisions for African and Third World studies have been retained only in spite of her opposition. The result of this has been an "Americo-centered" perspective on Black studies which ignores Black links between Africa, the Third World, and the Americas. This perspective falls easy prey to the misconception that Black history began on American shores in 1607 in the chains of slavery. Do Afro-Americans have no frame of reference other than North America and the European heritage? Hasn't this "Americo-centered" approach been the same scholastic argument that has been used to stifle Blacks' awareness of their place in the world?

Closely related to this development has been the de-emphasis of the economic and political perspective in the department, and the over-strengthening of the humanities. A glance through the course-book will reveal the relative dearth of political/economic-oriented courses, and the abundance of courses dealing with the arts and the humanities. Certainly the study of Black literature and the arts, is not, in and of itself, open to criticism; these areas constitute an important aspect of the Black experience. However, the Black scholar, in studying the humanities, must view them in the context of the political and economic situation of Black people. The arts are not "separate" from or "above" society--they derive their content not from some cosmic source, but from the society in which they operate. The scholar who does not recognize this merely renders him/herself less able to understand and deal with the social significance of art.

This is what is presently taking place in the Afro Department. The humanities are being presented in a political vacuum; they are offered ostensibly for some type of "pure" enlightenment, while the political and economic issues which have shaped those humanities are ignored, or pushed into the background. Black singers, dancers, and musicians, playwrights and authors receive abundant attention, but what of South Africa, of the civil rights movement, of institutional racism and its ramifications in modern society? Black people, some would have us believe, make great entertainers, but are not seriously engaged in the economic and political struggle of the world. Shades of Amos 'n' Andy!

An issue that has had implications for both the department's scope as well as its political perspective has been the removal of several Africanists and Pan-Africanists, chiefly Ephraim Isaac and Pierre-Michel Fontaine. Isaac's case has been described; Fontaine's contract was due to be renewed when Dr. Southern became head of the department. She denied her support to either, despite the fact that they were both eminently qualified, and that they together taught most of the students enrolled in the department. She gave no explanation for her actions, even when pressed for one. The result is that Isaac, though still at Harvard, cannot teach, and will soon be forced to leave, and Fontaine was told curtly that his contract would not be renewed, and was also forced to leave.

Because of Dr. Southern's silence on this issue, one can only speculate as to what her reasons were for turning her back on Isaac, and firing Fontaine. Perhaps they were too "radical" for her; perhaps she was merely trying to avoid controversy by allowing the University to dispose of faculty members it did not want. In either case, their opposition to her policies would have been a burden to her sooner or later, and for Southern, it is not tension which develops a department, but rather, the sober acquiescence of the faculty and students to the policies of the chair. With the departure of Isaac and Fontaine, the department suffered a loss, and the administration gained a partial victory in its attempt to restrict and re-define the perspective of the department.

The essential common denominator in these shifts in the policy of the department has been the de-politicization of Afro studies, both in its relation to the University, and in its philosophy. A better word might be "repoliticization", for the department has not become politically neutral in the least--one set of political principles has merely been replaced with another. Out with Pan-Africanism, out with Black liberation, out with relevant Black education, in with academic "objectivity", and in with political non-partisanship. Approaching a problem with a definite perspective is "unscholarly", we are told. Partisanship, some say, is the enemy of true research. If this is true, then there has been no "true" scholarship in all the history of mankind. All problems of all times have been approached by all people from one perspective or another. This deification of objectivity brings us no closer to the truth, and serves only to disguise bias and pass it off as fact.

Nowhere is the absurdity of the myth of academic objectivity more apparent than in the development of Black studies at Harvard. Black studies as a discipline not only explores the realities of oppression and liberation, inherently political realities, but also owes its very existence on campuses to political struggle. Prior to 1969, Harvard felt no compulsion to seriously explore the Black experience; where was objectivity then? The University's denial of tenure to Isaac, its emphasis on joint appointments to Afro, and its vigorous criticism of the department all reek of the battle of political perspectives. To divorce Afro studies from politics is the height of absurdity, yet this is what is presently happening at Harvard under Southern's supervision.

Dean Rosovsky, who never wanted the department in the first place, could not but have been pleased to see his old enemies gone(or half-gone), and to see the department affirming the old lies that American Blacks have no past and have no relationship to the rest of the world, and that the Black experience can be evaluated primarily in terms of its cultural contributions. Surely, the direction the department has taken pays tribute to the very political outlook which guided Harvard and the other bastions of American academia to provide academic support for racial oppression. The administration's unceasing battle with the radical and Pan-Africanist faculty of the department has subsided, and it has gained valuable ground. Indeed, the administration is now able to determine policy through a set of "advisors" whom Southern admits help her design departmental policy. The only thing left for Rosovsky to do is assume the chair of the department himself.

Despite strong disagreements with her perspective, concentrators have attempted to work with Southern, but those efforts have met with more frustration than success. After initially refusing to meet with concentrators, she finally did agree, and initial contact was made. Whatever relationship could have developed, however, was eroded by repeated displays of bad faith on Southern's part. Meetings with students were cancelled at the last minute without explanation or notification. Proposals rejected by faculty and students were re-introduced by Southern time after time until they were passed. Agreements reached between students and Southern were conveniently "forgotten" or "misunderstood" by Southern, and were sometimes even retracted for no apparent reason. Students have had to remain vigilant in order to retain the "privilege" (as Southern calls it) of participation in faculty meetings, a right concentrators in the department have had since its inception. Not surprisingly, a general distrust of Southern has developed among concentrators; now, this distrust is openly acknowledged among the students. Southern's paternalistic and condescending attitude towards students has exacerbated tensions; even students in her classes complain about being treated like sixth graders. Many concentrators have been alienated to the point where they no longer wish to be involved in the running of the department. Those who have remained active have not been able to accomplish much of anything productive through dealing with Southern. She rules the department autocratically, and does not take kindly to any questioning of her decisions.

Who, then, will resist the current trend in Afro-American studies at Harvard? The University, throughout its 400-year history of racist scholarship, and its six-year history of abusing the Afro Department, has made its position clear. Southern, after a year as head of the department, has made her position clear. The department's faculty, weeded of "troublemakers," and consisting largely of people newly-hired by Southern, has not chosen to take a side, and is seemingly ignoring the controversy. The one remaining element is the students who are concerned about the future of Afro-American studies. As the department moves backward ideologically, repudiating the world-view and the political principles upon which it was built, one fact stands apparent: it was students who brought Afro-American studies to life at Harvard, and it must ultimately be students who prevent its demise