Democratic Mandate

THE ADVISORY Committee on Shareholder Responsibility (ACSR), established in 1972 as an advisory body to Harvard's seven-man governing Corporation, essentially helps to divert the ever-present and ever-increasing criticism of the Corporation's investment policy. It was not formed, as is believed, to represent the concerns of the Harvard community. That fact became painfully obvious at the end of last week, when the ACSR abandoned any pretense of democratic practice.

The committee is simply an extension of the Corporation, whose investment policy the ACSR has never substantially changed. Any progressive ideas - notably the divestment of deposits in banks loaning to the South African government and "intensive dialogue," designed to improve the human rights record of South Africa-related companies--come primarily as result of community activism.

In effect, the group has simply contributed to the implementation of the Corporation's predetermined investment policy, and advised it on relatively useless proxy votes. Last year, however, the group took a bold, independent step. In a 35-page, thoroughly researched report, the ACSR recommended that the Corporation completely divest, and received a flat rejection. It also recommended that Harvard impose a time limit for conducting dialogue, within which it would require companies to improve their South African operations. Harvard said no again.

The University has responses for all of these issues. And disregarding the arguments about complete divestment, it is clear that the aCSR has been nothing more than a lightning rod. It simply diverts attention from the Corporation, misleading the community by implying that public opinion may be heeded. Moreover, one year after the ACSR voted to recommend that the Corporation divest completely, this year's ACSR, more than half of whom are newly appointed, voted last week to deviate from its recent stance in three major ways, all of which limit its scope of influence.

The group decided not to sponsor an open meeting, as it has in the last several years, in which the public can voice its concerns. It decided not necessarily to take a stand on complete divestment by the end of the year. But it did decide to help the Corporation define "direct involvement," which would distinguish those companies supplying rare goods to South Africa from those only paying taxes or selling readily attainable products. This definition would enable Harvard to remain invested in companies being business in the apartheid state as long as those companies are not applying rare goods. Harvard could then claim that companies in which it invests do not directly support aparthied--a claim which it would use to support its policy of intensive dialogue.

THESE MOVES demonstrate clearly that the ACSR is not interested being a democratic body, representative of community concern. Members argue they are not directly accountable to faculty, student, and alumni groups, from which they are chosen in an undemocratic process controlled by President Bok. Moreover, these three recent decisions also indicate that some members were selected this year more for their interest in finance than for their concern about apartheid. In marked contrast to last year's vote for total divestment, this group has opted to devote itself only to intensive dialogue.

The history of the ACSR is complicated and controversial. But it is clear that concerned activists have relied upon the group as their only legitimate means of voicing opinions on investments. Harvard has benefited greatly from its existence, not because it helps form an ethnical policy, but because it provides a pseudo-representative forum of ideas which take heat off the corporation, diffusing criticism.

It is essential that the ACSR be democratic and representative; without these qualities, it is entirely superfluous. The Undergraduate Council recognized this fact when it threatened recently to remove its member from the board unless the ACSR made democratic reforms. Each group of affiliates must hold democratic elections. Student and faculty votes must be taken campus-wide, and alumni and as-yet-unrepresented staff should be polled. The ACSR's recommendations might ormight not change, but theyw ould at least be fair and representative of the board's constituency, and activists would have a forum to voice concerns without having to resort to Luddite tactics. The University could still dispose of the recommendations as it pleased, but every time it so, it would be fighting the majority of the Harvard community and not just a few selected individuals who "work" for it.

Harvard argues that not enough of the community cares about the University's investment policy to bother voting the election of representative members. Walter Mondale could have made the same claim. Harvard argues that it is self-incorporated, and should not be controlled by outside forces. It shouldn't. But there is a difference between handing over control of the $2.3 billion endowment to the community and recognizing formally the true views of that community. If there is a need to invest ethically, as the Corporation obviously feels there is, the advice it receives should be representative of all those concerned.

The ACSR was created to bolster the Corporation's image of concern for critical opinion. But Harvard must understand that maintaining that image depends upon being honest, and not making token gestures to the community. It must open up the ACSR to popular election and deal head-to-head with popular views.