That Damned Library

Some Harvard administrators call it the Kennedy School Library. Some say the Engelhard Library. Others just mutter, "That damned library!"

They are all talking about the same place--the Public Affairs Library at the Kennedy School of Government. The proposed naming of the library after Charles W. Engelhard, who built a financial empire through his investments in South Africa, touched off a controversy that administrators wanted to die fast. Protests and meetings with both undergraduates and K-School students kept the issue alive, however. When the end finally came, all the issues dovetailed like the plot of a fairytale; rarely in the real world do controversies have a happy ending.

This one came close. Negotiations between student members of the informal K-School gifts committee and the Engelhard family produced a compromise acceptable to students, the Engelhard Foundation and family, and hence to administration officials. Though no party was ecstatic about the outcome of the compromise, in the words of Ira A. Jackson '70, associate dean of the Kennedy School, the agreement brought "institutional relief."

K-School administrators said they were unaware of the extent of Charles Engelhard's connections to South Africa when they accepted a $1 million contribution from the Engelhard Foundation early last year. A feature in an October Crimson detailed Engelhard's involvement in South Africa: as chairman of the board of Rand Mines, he had encouraged Americans to invest in that country and had made public statements condoning apartheid.

Students already protesting the University's connection with South Africa jumped on the issue. Claiming that Engelhard had made his money by exploiting black South Africans, the Southern Africa Solidarity Committee (SASC), the Democratic Socialist Organizing Committee and the Black Students Association began to protest the proposed name of the library--just days before the celebrity-packed K-School dedication ceremony October 21. The administration was both surprises and embarrassed by the controversy. They were even more chagrined when 400 protestors turned up at the dedication and chanted throughout President Bok's speech because all-night negotiations had failed to guarantee them a chance to speak. Only when Sen. Edward M. Kennedy '54 (D-Mass.), unaware of the controversy, encouraged the audience to listen to a student spokesman, did the K-School administrators acquiesce.

Nobody left after the closing prayer. They stayed to hear Mark Smith '72-4 charge the K-School administrators with violating a moral obligation by honoring a man whose actions contradicted the philosophy of a school of public affairs. The protesters demanded that the K-School renounce its agreement with the Engelhard Foundation and return the $1 million gift. Students argued that since the University would probably not name a library after Adolf Hitler, it should not dedicate one to Engelhard.

The point seemed valid to those who could see a similarity between Engelhard and Hitler's characters. Graham T. Allison Jr. '62, dean of the K-School, did not buy the argument, however. Part of his job is to take into account the interests of alumni and donors to the K-School--in this case Engelhard's daughter, Sophie (MPA, '77)--and those of K-School students. He says protesters have shrouded the issue in rhetoric. "It was a triumph of symbolism over substance. It had no impact on anybody who lives in South Africa or who might have been a victim. In that sense it has been an inflated debate."

The nature of the controversy appeared to change after the initial protest. K-School students--many of them mid-career bureaucrats studying areas involving problem-solving--began to debate the controversy through meetings and discussions rather than protest. Their position had initially mirrored that of the undergraduate protesters. But to many students in the one-year MPA program, resolving the controversy within the year became a matter of pride. The K-School students went out of their way to negotiate the issue.

Early in February, Thomas C. Schelling, Littauer Professor of Political Economy, recommended, as Allison had previously suggested, setting up an ad hoc committee of students and faculty to study the Engelhard controversy and develop guidelines for accepting gifts and naming facilities. The committee was plagued by internal rifts, with two of its members dropping out, but it did release tentative guidelines on April 11--the same day 300 demonstrators called for the library to be named after Steven Biko, the slain leader of the South African Black Consciousness Movement.

The student committee members who had been negotiating with the Engelhard Foundation accomplished their goal when in mid-May they helped to bring about a satisfactory compromise. The agreement involved compromise on both sides, with the students sacrificing more of their original demands. The students had wanted the school to renounce its agreement on the library's dedication with the Engelhard Roundation and to return the money. The foundation had wanted the K-School library to stand in honor of Charles Engelhard. However, it offered to modify its original request, and accepted instead a plaque stating the library was given in Engelhard's memory. John Huyler Jr., a K-School student committee member, praised the foundation for its flexibility and strength in the face of allegations both "inherently offensive and difficult."

However, the compromise retains the foundation's initial objective, what Allison describes as "the public expression of what was privately expressed--gratitude and public recognition that the library is given in honor of Engelhard. "I have always been happy to make just that," Allison adds. But he worries that the resolution is vulnerable to misinterpretation. Allison cautions the community to remember that the name of the library wasn't dropped since the library had never officially been named after Engelhard.

Just what Harvard will officially call the library is not clear. Existing records, such as the Corporation's minutes in January and this year's Treasurer's Report refer to it as the Engelhard Library; those will never be changed, Daniel Steiner '54, general counsel to the University, says. But he adds he is not sure how--or if--the different members of the Corporation will refer to the library in the future. Since the Engelhard Foundation, the K-School administration and the students all appear satisfied with the resolution, the Corporation will probably consider the library issue closed.

So what effect has the whole controversy had on the K-School? "I learned that as dean of the school I need to be more sensitive to the feelings and concerns of all the school's constituencies so as to avoid actions of such offense that parties can be harmed," Allison says, adding, "This is not to say all parties will approve of all actions the school will take. This is also not to put my finger into the wind and follow wherever prevailing sentiments lie."

Allison says he blames himself for the intensity of the controversy, and the consequent pain suffered by the Engelhard family. "I suspect that if the resolution that emerged had been the proposition at the outset that the controversy would not have emerged," But such a compromise would probably not have been possible last fall, when both the ad- ministrators and the students appeared adamant and the controversy looked as if it might blow over.

Now that the controversy has ended the K-School can return to its basic educational goals. The Engelhard controversy, in the eyes of many administrators, was simply an overblown and unpleasant diversion from their academic duties. Jackson says the issue kept faculty members from research, developing courses, and in one case, writing a book.

The debate over the library does not appear to have harmed the school. It dissuaded one speaker, an industrialist, from coming to the K-School, but many other controversial figures disregarded the commotion and spoke at the school anyway, Allison says. And Jackson points out that the school does not appear to have lost any donations because of the controversy. Two years ago, the K-School adopted a more organized fundraising method to raise $25 million, and has already raised about $16 million, much of it during this controversy-filled year.

But Allison points out that the issue has not helped the fundraising efforts at the K-School. "For the administration, faculty and students not to recognize the importance of external donors to the University and to be appreciative of their generosity and to recognize that this generosity can be given or taken away is very short-sighted," he says. He adds, "One of every three dollars on education spent at Harvard comes from the generosity of some donor, either directly or from endowment income." There is a widespread syndrome among students and faculty at Harvard to be ungrateful, while expecting the world to be deferential, Allison says.

In the end, the controversy may have benefitted the community. Allison plans this summer to form a group to consider how the K-School can use what it has learned from the Engelhard controversy to protect the interests of donors while simultaneously taking into account the positions of all members of the community. This gifts committee will draw from not only members of the ad hoc committee, but also experienced fundraisers. Allison says he doubts it will ever come up with a definitive statement on gifts. Such a statement coincides with President Bok's position on the ethical implications of gifts, which suggests that investigating donors might be too formidable a task.

The Engelhard issue demonstrates the ability of students and administrators to resolve major conflicts. Students, especially those on the SASC who advocated total dissociation from Engelhard, are slightly disappointed. Nevertheless they consider the issue closed. The Engelhard Foundation is releived that the publicity and the resulting innuendos have died down. And since the two sides are satisfied, the K-School and the Corporation likewise are happy with the compromise.

Allison sums it up when he says, "If you ask if Engelhard's name is prominently and honorably displayed in the library, the answer is yes. If you ask if the books of Harvard carry the original name of Engelhard, the answer is yes. But if you ask if Harvard will force anyone to recite any particular formula as a name, the answer is no, as it would always be.