THE HARVARD CORPORATION with Derek Bok as president will never sell the University's holdings in companies doing business in South Africa. It is unlikely ever to sell ever, its shares in one such firm for avowed "ethical purposes. That's not undue pessimism or a self-fulfilling prophecy it's realism. And if there were ever any doubts about the inflexible attitude of the governing body on this subject they have been dispelled this spring.

The most flagrant indication, of course, was the comment of senior Corporation fellow Hugh Calkins '45 to members of the Advisory Committee on Shareholder Responsibility (ACSR) that Harvard does not take ethical considerations into account in the initial decision to buy shares in a company. While it sounds unduly harsh, this statement probably represented little more than a semantic change in the University's South Africa policy. As it is, Harvard says it checks up on companies already in its portfolio to make sure they are in some way working for "constructive change" in South Africa Calkins statement simply means Harvard won't make the minimal effort to check a company's progress before buying shares.

But Calkins' words had a greater symbolic importance, confirming once again just how low a priority the South Africa issue is for the Corporation. It was, for one thing, an unabashed slap at the ACSR, which has been struggling recently to erase its image of powerlessness. ACSR members wondered: just how important can our advice be, if the Corporation won't make the cursory effort to screen companies out of its portfolio that fail to meet the minimum standards of behaviour in South Africa? But even more distressing was the way Calkins, in commenting to the ACSR made clear just how narrowly the Corporation limits the possible range of Harvard actions on South Africa investments.

WHEN THE CORPORATION rejected divestiture back in 1978 in favor of a case by case review of companies operating in South Africa a lot of people thought it was serious about playing the inside game." Let's pressure companies in the country to introduce progressive employment and social policies, the Corporation argued, surely working within the system for positive change is better than simply cutting and running. Not prima facie, an unreasonable argument.

But what has become clear is that the 1978 policy was, if not a smokescreen then certainly a much less than candid appraisal of the course the Corporation was to follow. The Corporation evidently sees to South Africa policy not to much as a rigorous set of guidelines in both meaning and spirit but as something to be gotten around. Something that has to be dealt with, not because it really ought to be dealt with, but because students and some other crazy adults get upset about it. Calkins' statement was merely the last indicator of how little tooth the governing board has meant to give its effort to work for "constructive change."

The Corporation, for instance, has opposed shareholder resolutions such as the one last year calling on IBM to halt its South Africa operations. It ignored that the nature of the computer company's operations--providing some hardware for the South African security apparatus--would surely seem more to strengthen apartheid's grip on the country than to contribute to the welfare of its Black workers. Last year the Corporation tried to water down its policy even more by ending its automatic ban on investing in banks that make loans to the South African government. Only student protest and a unanimous ACSR recommendation opposing the change forced it to back down from abridging the one concession it gave to activists in 1978.

Finally the Corporation has for a year effectively ignored the ACSR's recommendation to divest from the Carnation company which for three years running has failed to meet the basic requirements of the Sullivan Principles a set of fair labor and equal opportunity guidelines for U.S. firms in South Africa. The Sullivan guidelines are far from perfect, they have been widely attacked as a figleaf to cover up the sins of corporate involvement in the country. But they are the closest thing there is to reasonable standards of behavior for U.S. firms, and Carnation has not shown the least indication of concern or attempts at improvement. Here is an ideal opportunity for Harvard to pressure indeed for positive change, but the Corporation has effectively stonewalled the issue so far.

UNDERSTANDING the Corporation's intransigence on following through meaningfully on its 1978 policy helps to explain the recent break to the left of the heretofore acquiescent ACSR. For most of its 10 year history the ACSR has deliberated how to tell the Corporation to vote on specific shareholder resolutions, which come to Harvard in the number of 30 to 50 a year. But in the last year or so, the ACSR has begun to consider ways of expanding its mandate--advising the Corporation on ethical issues in investing.

The fundamental problem has been how to approach the Corporation with recommendations. Should the ACSR try to give "realistic" advice to the Corporation--advice within the realm of what the seven fellows might conceivably consider? Or should it talk to the Corporation with its heart--tell it exactly where it stands on issues, knowing full well that Calkins et. al. will laugh in its face?

These are not easy questions, because the ACSR itself is extremely divided on many of the issues. But after initially firing with the former strategy, the ACSR seems to have chosen the latter. The strong recommendation that emerged from the committee on Friday that Harvard divest from companies not abiding by the Sullivan Principles is a case in point. A year ago, the committee would never even have considered such a resolution.

What's more, the committee narrowly defeated a recommendation that Harvard divest totally, the first full divestiture motion ever to reach the ACSR's table. In other words, the committee is finally working itself around to the conclusion that the Corporation can't be reasoned with on this topic. Even so-called moderate positions on the subject hold no water with the governing board, which has so sharply limited the realistic terms of debate that anything beyond discussing innocuous shareholder resolutions is on the radical fringe.

COMPOSED AS IT IS of students, faculty, and alumni, the ACSR has traditionally lagged politically behind the rest of the campus on the South Africa issue. That it has moved as sharply as it has would seem to suggest a growing polarization on the subject on campus. The sad thing is that such a polarization does not bother the men of Massachusetts Hall, who sit pretty as waves of students and ACSR members shuffle through Harvard's revolving door. Next fall, the excitement of this spring's divestiture drive will have died down, a whole new batch of ACSR members will have to start the long process of learning the issues, and the Corporation will act as if this spring's recommendation had never happened.

That leaves only hope as a realistic option for those who disagree even slightly with Harvard's investment policies. But activists have to be ready for when the mindset in Mass Hall cases even a bit. That means continuing their symbolic opposition to the Corporation's line as long as it remains so adamant. The hunger strike and Endowment for Divestiture this spring were perfect reminders of that opposition and served to focus attention once more on the way Harvard is dragging its feet on this issue, even by its own avowed standards. This is not an issue the Corporation likes to deal with year-in, year-out; at the very least, students--who can bring new blood to the old issue yearly--can force it not to forget.