If the Harvard presidency worked anything like the American presidency, Larry Summers would be nearing the end of his first term. Instead, he may well be in the embryonic stage of a reign that could eclipse that of Queen Victoria—in years, if not significance. Since his ascension to the post in July 2001, Summers has consolidated his status as one of the most powerful men ever to take the helm of the world’s most powerful university. In so doing, he has asserted his influence far beyond the gates of the Yard.

I’ve come to think of Summers as a kind of despot, benevolent or not depending on who is asked. Like any respectable emperor, he has concerned himself with territorial expansion. He has a precise vision of where Harvard and academia should be headed. Summers seems to shy from criticism, even though it tends to be preemptively muted out of concern for job security or good standing.

Often, the President’s resolve is admirable, a welcome asset. Observing a troubling drop in the presence of international students at American universities, Summers sprung into action, emerging as one of the most prominent figures in favor of a reevaluation of post-9/11 student visa policy. He has also proven willing to voice his own beliefs even when they are less popular within the Harvard community. In 2002, Summers called attention to an apparent spike in anti-Semitism on college campuses, and a slew of international coverage followed.

His characteristic steadfastness has produced definitive results: Summers should be lauded for his leadership in the new financial aid initiative, which significantly eases the tuition burden on low-income and middle-income Harvard families. We can fairly assume that he was similarly instrumental in the University’s recent decision to match the contributions of Harvard affiliates for tsunami relief in Southern Asia. All the while, Summers has presided over an endowment increase to the tune of several billion dollars.

But Harvard’s president is notoriously unflinching in the face of ideological or personal opposition, and his perceived distaste for compromise and diplomacy has alienated many. The Cornel West ’74 debacle is a case in point; the former Fletcher University Professor has maintained that Summers was the catalyst of his well-publicized 2002 departure for Princeton, saying Summers treated a delicate situation “like a bull in a china shop.” The truth of the messy row probably lies somewhere between the he said/he said accounts offered by the academic giants, but it is certainly Harvard that paid the ultimate price. The Af-Am department still hasn’t recovered, and West laughed all the way to central Jersey.

This was not the last time Harvard was to suffer for Summers’ alleged doggedness. Despite heavy protestations from faculty, alums and students, Summers refused to add Harvard to a long list of law school plaintiffs challenging the shameful Solomon Amendment. Passed in 1996, the law allowed the federal government to withhold funding from institutions that denied the military on-campus recruiting. Harvard, like other schools, had declared the military’s anti-gay stance out of step with its internal non-discrimination policy. When Washington threatened to cut hundreds of millions of dollars from Harvard, the Law School was left with little choice but to capitulate. But why not contest the amendment in court? Perhaps Summers didn’t want to ruffle any feathers; this from a school that prides itself in a tradition of trailblazing and standing against intolerance. Meanwhile, a federal appeals court recently struck down the amendment as unconstitutional, making Summers’ reluctance to challenge it look pretty foolish.

But while political squabbles come and go like fashion, buildings tend to last an awfully long time. Accordingly, Summers is equally (if not more) dogmatic when it comes to the science-centric Allston expansion, his pet project and real-life Sim City. In February 2004, this editorial page hit the nail on the head, charging that “the [Allston] discussion between Mass. Hall and everyone else has indeed come to seem more and more like a monologue.” Faculty members have claimed repeatedly that they have not been kept au courant with the Allston initiative. Meanwhile, students were appeased with an online survey while being left mostly in the dark about mammoth decisions, like whether or not to shut down the Quad.

One can’t help but wonder: Is it right for one person to have so much power at Harvard? Probably not—a university shouldn’t be an autocracy. But this is a rather moot point, as the future of Harvard is bound to look a lot like Larry Summers’ plan.

With power comes responsibility: foremost, a responsibility to listen to people, even critics. Furthermore, as Harvard’s public face, the president is obligated to put the University before personal pride. We have seen that acting alone, Summers has demonstrated his capacity to sully relationships between individuals or entire constituencies and the University. Fortunately, he also has the ability to build them. Let’s hope he goes with Option B, because the world—not just Harvard—is watching.

Jared M. Seeger ’05 is a government concentrator in Pforzheimer House. His column appears regularly.