But with liberal historiography often goes another sentiment--that today's students are somehow at fault for not taking to the streets, that the persistence of various oppressions suggests the need for similar militancy, and, perhaps even occupations. On the national level, protest certainly remains an effective tool for drawing attention and, occasionally, sparking reform. That President Reagan had to delay some of his planned draconian cuts in student aid certainly stems in part from the mobilized student response to his austere budget proposals.
At the University level, though, it's worth remembering that ours is a different era from that in which the early '70s heroes acted. The class of 1972, a mere six weeks from Commencement at the time of the Mass Hall occupation, was the last class to remember the bloody University Hall bust. That tragedy marred their freshman years, it no doubt left a legacy of antagonism towards Harvard's Establishment which led to the occupation of Derek Bok's office that April morning. Bok, however, was an inappropriate object for their vituperation. The Corporation's kingmakers picked Bok--then dean of the Law School--as President in 1971 in part because then-president Nathan M. Pusey had stirred up such outrage by permitting the University Hall bust to occur.
And, in all fairness, the calm approach to crisis management that so recommended Derek Bok 11 years ago has helped him defray crises as President. Not that experiences like the 1972 takeover didn't accelerate his practical education in coping with troubled students Shortly after that event, Bok formed the part-student Advisory Committee on Shareholder Responsibility (ACSR); though he said he'd been planning to create the ACSR for some time, it took an event like PALC's takeover to shock him into action.
Once formed, though, Bok's ACSR has proved a convenient tool with which to pacify students upset with Harvard's investment policies. Of course, on occasion, working within the system through the ACSR has worked. This winter's unanimous ACSR vote clearly helped pressure the Corporation to maintain its absolute ban on investments in banks that loan to the South African government. A decade ago, the Corporation couldn't have been pressured into adopting such a policy in the first place. You've got to wonder if it would have been retained this winter without the formal opposition of a recognized body like the ACSR.
But the reluctance of today's students to protest militantly, to occupy buildings, stems from more than the realization that the current, somewhat retooled system occasionally can work. Skepticism of once-unassailable liberal solutions like divestiture has rightly set in. Harvard continues to own shares in Gulf, and Gulf continues to operate in Angola. But today that company is alive and well in Angola at the behest of the nation's Marxist government. That alone should cast some doubt on protesters' assertions that Gulf was hell-bent on maintaining the existing, repressive regime.
TIMES HAVE CHANGED. Two days after the Class of 1972's June 15 Commencement, the Watergate Era began, as several Republican cat-burglars rifled through the offices of the Democratic National Committee in Washington. Eventually, the grossly overextended presidential power that had allowed Vietnam to occur was scaled back by Congress and by public pressure; only now has the backlash set in, with a strong presidency returning to vogue.
At the university level, decentralization and rule-by-committee have become institutionalized. In addition to guaranteeing red tape and innumerable Mass Hall staff members, they have assured the existence of organs (like the ACSR) through which students can seek change within the Harvard system. If that system ceases to allow the modicum of student influence it does now, April 1972 may cease to be just a dim memory--and instead become a blueprint for a new generation of activists.