Over the past year, his first as university president, Lawrence H. Summers, Harvard’s own “Ariel Sharon of higher education,” found a way to infuriate just about everyone. With the new school year barely a week old, Summers has acted again in what is now his signature style: commenting publicly on a taboo subject and inciting debate both on campus and across the country. Good for him. And in a move that is less likely to garner national headlines but may be just as important for Harvard undergraduates, Summers last weekend broke with recent presidential tradition to host an event solely intended to give students a few hours of enjoyable recreation.
Last Tuesday’s speech on anti-Semitism and Sunday night’s showing of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off may seem to have nothing to do with one another, but both contrast favorably with the distant and aloof tenure of Summers’ predecessor, Neil L. Rudenstine. As president of Harvard, Rudenstine was well-known for increasing the university’s endowment. That’s it. His presence at the freshman barbecue in the fall of 2000 served only to highlight his complete absence from campus life throughout the rest of that year. He merely made token appearances at home football games; whether he stayed past half-time—or even arrived before it— is anyone’s guess. Even during the Living Wage sit-in, at a time when his comments would have clarified and enriched the debate over Harvard’s labor policies, Rudenstine remained typically and irresponsibly silent.
Summers, by contrast, has had no qualms about stating his beliefs, even when those beliefs put him at the center of controversy. Such was the case last week when, speaking at the year’s first Morning Prayers at Memorial Church, Summers condemned anti-Israel activities that are “anti-Semitic in their effect if not their intent.” He was quickly and roundly chastised for stifling debate on Israel, allegedly the consequence of equating anti-Israel demonstrations and fundraising with anti-Semitism. The irony, of course, is that the critics who denounced Summers’ speech on these grounds only vindicated him and contradicted themselves: Far from silencing the opposition, Summers has ignited debate on a sensitive but vital topic. In a year when the administration of San Francisco State University stood idly by while pro-Israel demonstrators were surrounded and subjected to chants of “Hitler did not finish the job,” it would be remiss for the president of any university not to comment on latent anti-Semitism in American higher education. That Summers is thus far the only university president to speak publicly on the subject is alarming.
On a considerably less serious note, Summers also recently differentiated himself from his predecessor through hosting Sunday’s Tercentenary Yard screening of Ferris Bueller. Over 750 votes were cast for either Ferris Bueller or its rivals on the “It’s Movie Time” ballot, and the film was attended by more than 3,000 members of the Harvard community. Rudenstine’s MIA approach to participation in campus life was reflected in the cynicism with which some students, unaccustomed to presidential involvement in student activities, greeted the event, but the screening itself proved that well-organized social events will draw large, enthusiastic crowds.
His ideas may not garner universal support; they are not intended to. Rain dispersed the crowd watching Ferris Bueller long before the hero triumphed and Mr. Rooney limped home defeated. However, outspoken and outgoing, Summers has already outdone Rudenstine in his contributions to Harvard’s intellectual and social vitality. Long may he continue to do so.
