"Teach thinkers to think,--a needed knowledge in a day of loose and careless logic; and they whose lot is gravest must have the carefulest training to think aright.... [T]he thinker must think for truth, not for fame." --W.E.B. Du Bois

As Harvard prepares to send another class of college graduates out into the world, these seniors will inevitably be told--by their peers, their parents and Harvard faculty and administrators--that they are America's future leaders. Currently, Harvard graduates are extremely well-represented among the nation's elite in government, business and education, and there is little reason to assume that this trend will not continue. Ostensibly, Harvard pushes its undergraduates to embark on a rigorous search for veritas, thus molding a new generation of men and women fit to run the country. This conception of the Harvard education is not only accepted within this ivory tower; most of America also seems to believe in the Harvard mystique.

There is little doubt that Harvard graduates are among the most academically and intellectually astute people in the country. And Harvard is certainly one of the most renowned universities in the nation, if not the world. Yet, is Harvard doing all it can to challenge its students to think critically? Does the Harvard experience really teach one to distrust authority and tradition? Or do crucial aspects of our education encourage us to value superficial myths over unvarnished truth and to honor America's entrenched institutions more than America's citizens and democratic ideals?

I must admit that these are very serious allegations. My doubts and misgivings about the pursuit of truth at Harvard spring mainly from three years of taking Core and department courses in history, government and economics--three of the most important areas of study at the College. These areas seem to be the most plagued by reactionary ideology and a myopic view of America, problems that do not affect other fields of study, such as physics or fine arts, quite so directly.

The prevalence of "loose and careless logic" at Harvard is actually quite shocking. Much of the sloppy thinking at Harvard is the result of a reliance on American mythology--the assumption that this nation is the bastion as well as the exporter of freedom, democracy and unquestionable moral superiority. However, this mythology ignores the troubling fact that America has in many ways failed to live up to its lofty ideals. One particularly problematic aspect of American history is our nation's legacy of racial conflict, injustice and exclusion. These issues are frequently glossed over or ignored.

For example, in some courses, professors and students will blithely speak about the great achievements of the civil rights movement and will claim, without a hint of irony, that heroes like Martin Luther King Jr. pretty much cured white America's racism. Yet, even the long-suffering King (everyone's favorite nonviolent martyr) became increasingly disillusioned and frustrated with America's persistent racism throughout his career and came to believe he had underestimated the hatred in America. Despite the success of the 1960s, America's legacy of white supremacy is still palpable--for example, neighborhoods in this country remain overwhelmingly segregated by race. However, this more nuanced perspective on race relations often makes some people at Harvard surprisingly uncomfortable, especially when it is injected into a discussion about the egalitarian triumphs of our nation.

Race is not the only wild card that contradicts the soothing platitudes of the American mythology. America's foreign policy record, which is full of dubious achievements such as conducting illegal invasions, training death squads, engaging in economic sabotage and toppling democratically-elected governments, is frequently presented in a much different light. Professors or instructors who speak frankly about such incidents are scarce--most will parrot government propaganda about America's valiant struggle to promote democracy and free markets overseas. For instance, in discussions about the Vietnam War, students are asked to view the situation from the perspective of American leaders--many of them Harvard men--and to see how these men had almost no choice but to escalate the conflict. More disturbing facets of the Vietnam War, such as the widespread murder of civilians in South Vietnam, the CIA's political assassination program and the instruction in torture techniques provided by U.S. army personnel are mentioned in passing or not discussed. Simply reading the Pentagon Papers would give students a more accurate and less biased view of the war.

Some examples of ideological blinders at Harvard are even more disturbing. I have heard the CIA coup that replaced Guatemala's democratically-elected government with a despotic military junta in 1954--all for the benefit of U.S. business--described as an example of Cold War tensions. The U.S. invasion of the Dominican Republic in 1965 is frequently discussed in the same manner. A teaching fellow for a class about economic development told me that he graded harshly a paper that I wrote about U.S. economic warfare against Nicaragua because I had not included a moral justification for such action. When I asked how this sabotage could be morally justified, this buffoon actually told me that because the U.S. had defeated Hitler and Stalin, America had paramount moral stature.

The callousness and materialism of students is almost as irksome as the ideological straitjacket that binds much of the Harvard curriculum. In another economics class, students were asked what a business should do if its products were found to be unsafe for the environment and were banned in America. Most immediately responded that the company should try to take it business abroad where environmental standards were looser or nonexistent, and the teaching fellow agreed that this was a smart recommendation. Is it any wonder that some American companies still use dangerous pesticides such as DDT in Latin America?

Sadly, instead of challenging undergraduates with candid accounts of America, Harvard treats its students to more sophisticated variants of the pleasing fables they learned in high school and absorb from popular culture and the media. When they graduate, these students are unprepared to promote serious change or defy the status quo because they are not even aware of serious American dilemmas. Thus, each year, Harvard produces a bumper crop of graduates ready to climb the ranks on Wall Street or in Washington, but blind to the glaring gaps between American ideals and American reality. These graduates are committed to preserving the flawed institutions they will inherit from older Harvard alumni. They will also stomp on others in pursuit of the almighty dollar, and the myths they were told at Harvard will salve their consciences.

However, not all courses at Harvard reinforce the American mythology. Some criticize it effectively, such as Carswell Professor of English and American Literature and Language Sacvan Bercovitch's Core literature class, aptly titled "The Myth of America," or the Afro-American Studies classes taught by Professor of the Philosophy of Religion Cornel West '74, or Professor of Sociology Christopher Winship's class on poverty. Unfortunately, such perspectives are difficult to find at Harvard. This University will not fully embody its motto, veritas, until it "found[s] Right on righteousness and Truth on the unhampered search for Truth," principles of education that were advocated by W.E.B. Du Bois. Only then will Harvard graduates be prepared to be the bold and unflinching moral leaders that America so desperately needs.

David W. Brown '97 is associate editorial chair of The Crimson.