We go to Harvard, a school that claims to prize its students as its strongest asset—as the young people who will inherit the future. Recently, four Harvard undergraduates were arrested at a recruiting station in Maine for protesting the military’s “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy, which prohibits those who “demonstrate a propensity or intent to engage in homosexual acts” from serving. While its students are trying to change their future for the better, Harvard University claims to champion that same goal—by banning a student organization from its campus and grandstanding at its commissioning ceremony. We cannot be content to excuse the University’s mistreatment of ROTC students in an effort to make a political statement
At the end of the year, the Undergraduate Council passed “Supporting ROTC,” a jointly-proposed bill by the Harvard Republicans and Democrats. The bill aims to allow the ROTC courses Harvard students take at MIT to be printed on their school transcripts. Furthermore, it recommends that Harvard add that it is “proud” of the ROTC students’ service to the country in its description of the organization in the Student’s Handbook. Yet while this measure is a step in the right direction, it doesn’t go nearly far enough. If we, the students, are truly our college’s most important asset, how can it conscientiously ignore those who choose to take part in something greater than themselves?
Students in ROTC have to wake up at six in the morning for Physical Training. They cross-register for an extra class at MIT which, UC legislation aside, still doesn’t show up on their transcripts. Many spend their summers away simulating missions and training rather than “swanking it up” in a New York City sublet. Some of these extraordinarily dedicated young people are my friends, and I’m privileged to know them. But because of the culture Harvard has fashioned through its ban of the ROTC, these students’ biggest extracurricular is also their biggest source of separation from the University. If it weren’t for the few vestiges of their commitment that we see—Army fatigues worn every Tuesday or that sleek white Navy uniform—the rest of the Harvard Community wouldn’t even know they were involved.
At Harvard, it’s been this way for a long time. Our university initially banned ROTC from campus in protest against the Vietnam War in 1970. But that war ended more than three decades ago, and ROTC was never re-instated. Instead, the University has simply shifted the justification of the ban to its protest over the military’s controversial “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy. “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” is profoundly discriminatory, no doubt. Nevertheless, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” was not passed by the Armed Forces, but by a Democratic Congress under Bill Clinton, a Democratic President.
The political benefit Harvard University derives from banning ROTC is trivial compared with the detrimental effect the ban has on the selfless students involved. Instead of scapegoating a group of students, Harvard ought to make the bold political statement it pretends to be making, by publicly decrying the Government’s discriminatory policy. Maybe the University could even demonstrate its dissatisfaction with the policy by giving back the hundreds of millions of dollars in federal funds it has received over the last 15 years and refuse to take any more in the future. Instead, by punishing ROTC cadets, Harvard is redirecting the responsibility unto its students, taking not only the most convenient, but also the least effective, way out.
This casual injustice has directly affected the ROTC program itself. Banned from promoting or recruiting on the Harvard campus, the program’s participation rate in the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines ROTC has dropped drastically. Whereas ten or fifteen years ago, it wasn’t uncommon for 80 students to participate in the program, today there are fewer than 25.
Awareness has dropped significantly as well. Compared with campuses around the country where ROTC is a significant feature of student life and adds greatly to the diversity of student organizations, at Harvard it’s hardly a blip on most students’ radar. Without the ROTC presence, we are missing out on exposure to a potentially valuable and fulfilling experience that is entirely different from what most of us are used to. Whatever you believe about the war in Iraq or the role of the military at universities, these are topics that should be open to discussion. Banning ROTC effectively puts an end to the conversation.
As a world-renowned institution, Harvard shouldn’t support any discriminatory program. But, as an institution of higher learning, it must always prioritize its students. Harvard proudly advertises students who do social work, why should those that serve our nation in the military be treated any different?
So what’s the next step? The Faculty of Arts and Sciences should pass a resolution reversing their position and welcome ROTC back to Harvard’s campus. At the same time, they must also push every other Ivy League University to join them in issuing a statement publicly condemning “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” They should even urge President Drew Faust to take the issue to Washington and use her position to lobby for an end to this discriminatory practice.
As for students? We should take it upon ourselves to do what that our University won’t. We shouldn’t accept the excuse that the current ROTC ban is an effective form of protest against “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” Instead, we should work together with the University to persuade the Government to abandon “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” At the same time, we also have to embrace, respect, and learn from our fellow students in ROTC.
Derek Flanzraich ’10 is a government concentrator in Currier House.
Read more in Opinion
My So-Called Senior Year