Evolution to Activism Falls Short in the End

memorable achievement of the council two years ago was persuading dining halls to serve chocolate milk. Current undergraduates tended to associate the council with series of failed concerts, high-schoolish election campaigns and irrelevant debates.

But beginning with the election of Kenneth E. Lee '89 as council chair, the stage seemed set for an "activist" revolution--or, at least, evolution.

"I am for an active, progressive Undergraduate Council." And with that Lee kicked off his campaign for chair last September, and the council's leap into the real world.

Lee, in remarks targeted at the council's conservative skeptics, insisted that a mature body could handle both the gritty details of student life and the philosophical debate of campus politics. "Service issues, political issues--we can do them both," he promised.

Indeed, events seemed to bear Lee out. More than half the candidates for council ran on platforms opposing Harvard's nine all-male final clubs--an issue which the council had straddled the year before--as the election for chair essentially became a race to the campus' political left. In fact, Lee--now often identified with the council's liberal agenda for his leadership on a variety of outspoken resolutions--at first represented the conservative alternative in the final election for chair.

But with Lee at the helm and his election opponent, Frank E. Lockwood '89, leading the council's Services Committee, the council embraced its new activist image. In a matter of weeks, the council rattled off a series of resolutions which framed its progressive agenda in no uncertain terms.

"I think what I wanted to show first semester was that the council could actually get things done, because the one word attached to us was 'ineffectiveness,'" Lee says. "If we could plan ourselves so that we had something coming every week, and make a definitive statement and take definitive action on something every week, then we were showing we weren't ineffective."

Lee's schedule wound up fulfilling the campaign promises of many new council members, and almost no one's as conspicuously as the liberal Lockwood. Together, the two worked out council positions on the confrontational issues of final clubs, a 17-year-old union drive on campus, minority faculty hiring and many other student issues.

Carefully toeing a middle line, however, the council frequently found ways not to isolate any constituency. Its final club resolution, for example, passed the week after elections, stopped short of calling for the abolition of the clubs, as many anti-final club activists urged. Instead, it explicitly recognized the clubs' right to exist while urging them to eliminate discrimination.

Meanwhile, further stepping out of its traditional role as provider of student services, the council next urged the University to accept the Harvard Union of Clerical and Technical Workers (HUCTW) and "to end legal attempts to invalidate election results to begin contract negotiations."

The resolution did not mark the council's first stand on HUCTW. Only the spring before, the body endorsed the union's goals. But the precedent did not curtail opposition from representatives last fall who felt strongly that the council should not address issues which did not directly affect students.

This question of whether the council should continue to address "non-student" issues seldom gained explicit mention last year, but it underscored debates on activism throughout the year. But the silence was taken as acceptance, and for the most part, the council embraced its activist image with no apologies.

With such a mandate, the council took its jabs at the Harvard administration, calling for a rejection of a Board of Overseers plan to change its election procedures, saying it was a "transparent attempt to disenfranchise the alumni."

The plan, set forward in the Young Report, broadened the administration's role in selecting University-endorsed candidates to the Overseers at the expense of activist alumni.

But the first-semester project which best captured student sentiment took form in the council's effort to urge Harvard to increase the number of minority and women faculty.

Led by Lucy H. Koh '90, who chaired the council's ad-hoc committee on the issue, the council collected more than 2300 petition signatures and held several rallies in front of University Hall before the Verba Report was released.

"It's really important that we show that it's not just the exclusive interest of certain minority groups of certain cultural organizations," Koh said at the time. "It concerns everybody."

And with that the council seemed well on its way to a new legitimacy on campus.

A Troubling Pattern

But underneath the popularity of many council policies, a curious pattern was taking shape. While the body had grown deft at latching onto high-profile issues, it had failed to show initiative in breaking new ground. Its contribution to the faculty recruitment issue, in fact, came more than a year after the Minority Students Alliance and other minority groups began the movement.

The same sequence characterized the council's protest of proposed changes in the freshperson housing lottery. At first centered on the Yard, opposition to partial randomization of house assignments soon became a council issue. The council was likewise quick to take partial credit when the plan was overturned.

By the end of the semester, riding a wave of public support including praise by campus news publications, Ken Lee had apparently achieved the highly improbable. Through a careful strategy of tackling high-profile, short-term issues on consecutive weeks, he had transformed the council's image into a can-do body.

The council responded by unanimously reelecting Lee and the rest of its leadership to a second term. But Lee's team would find that somehow, without their knowledge, the terrain of campus politics had altered. Gone was the pool of quick liberal causes, in its place was a morass of longer-term projects and underlying institutional questions.

"When you attack many different issues in one semester, then you have less left over for the second semester," Lee says. "And on top of that there are some issues which simply take longer. Just because you pass a resolution doesn't mean that our role is ended."

In the new term, the council first turned attention to its own structure, holding a student referendum on whether the office of chair, currently elected by the council, should be replaced by a president elected by the student body. Proponents believed the move would give a stronger mandate to the council leader, while opponents felt such a move would split the governing body.

To the surprise of many, students resoundingly rejected the change, and council leaders quickly interpreted the defeat as another vote of confidence for the "activist" council.

But gains would grow fewer as the semester proceeded. Many projects either proved too ambitious to finish before year end, or fell victim to the paralysis of the April controversies.

One move, begun in the fall, represented the council's attempt to reinvigorate the South African divestment movement.

In the second semester the council struggled to reestablish its ties to the Endowment for Divestiture (E4D), an alternative gift fund which holds seniors' donations in escrow until Harvard divests from South Africa. But interest in the fund was minimal, and work began so late in the year that E4D essentially disappeared from campus for the year.

The council also tried to address campus security by calling for better lighting on the Yard, more police protection and a program to distribute alarm whistles to all students.

But although the whistles were purchased, they have not been distributed. Harvard has also not said if it will improve lighting. However, the Cambridge City Council endorsed the Undergraduate Council's efforts, and while the tangible effects of the council's security efforts remain to be seen, their impact may extend beyond paper goals.

A similarly ambiguous fate met the council's attempt to address poor College advising. This indeed represented a new, important concern for students, but the council could not decide how broad to make its plans for "student advocates," alternatives to the College's existing advising structure. Ultimately, a concrete proposal was delayed until fall.

If the council's activist agenda seemed to progress more slowly in the second semester, it ground to a complete halt when, three weeks before the end of the year, a seemingly innocent proposal shook the campus and all but paralyzed the council for the rest of the year.

The council voted by a wide margin to call on Harvard and the military to negotiate the return of Reserve Officers Training Corps back to campus--without academic credit--after a 20-year hiatus.

The issue touched a raw nerve, coming within a week of the 20th anniversary of the student seizure of University Hall--an event which led to ROTC's withdrawal from campus.

The council passed the resolution despite protestations that endorsing ROTC violates both council and Harvard policy, both of which prohibit affiliation with organizations that discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation.

In the week that followed, hundreds of anti-ROTC activists protested daily, while ROTC students retorted with claims that training Harvard students for the armed forces will eventually help to reform the military.

When the council convened the next week to consider overturning the ROTC resolution, they were met by hundreds of students, eager to have their say in the controversial debate. The council voted to overturn the call for ROTC's return on the basis of unconstitutionality, but when Lee closed debate on another ROTC resolution before allowing anyone to speak, chaos ensued: the crowd began chanting and approaching the podium and a frazzled Lee adjourned the meeting.

Although the council has since officially voted to postpone all debate on ROTC until next year, the week-long controversy has caused many to question the council's legitimate right to represent the student body.

"By closing itself down, the Undergraduate Council made itself illegitimate," Felicia Kornbluh '88-'89, an anti-ROTC activist, said after the meeting. "By voting the resolution unconstitutional and then continuing debate, the Undergraduate Council made itself illegitimate," she added.

But, to many, the political problems created by the ROTC affair paled in comparison to the financial problems in which the council enmeshed itself.

Throughout its seven years, the council has had only spotty success in scheduling big-name concert appearances. In 1988, the council drew criticism for announcing and then cancelling two separate concerts.

Last fall, a successful appearance by reggae artist Jimmy Cliff lost the council several thousand dollars, but nonetheless encouraged students to expect another concert in the spring.

In secret negotiations throughout the second semester, Lee tried to secure a concert and, only weeks before the end of the academic year, announced an appearance by pop-folk artist Suzanne Vega which would cost the council over $60,000.

The council was counting on a sell-out show to earn back Vega's hefty fee. But the ROTC affair prevented council members from publicizing the event, and when the concert fell far short of a sell-out, the council suffered losses that may exceed $35,000.

The council is likely to seek a loan from BayBanks and will still have to drastically cut next year's social budget. But Treasurer Michael R. Kelsen '90 said that the deficit will not affect grants to student organizations.

The ROTC and the Vega affairs, both now dubbed fiascos by many council members, will certainly influence next year's council. Observers have noted that many respected council members will not run for reelection, and that the election of new council representatives will focus on ROTC and financial issues.

Other council members have said that the council may revert to its pre-activism days and focus more on student service issues.

But whether the council overstepped its bounds at year's end or whether the body's fiascos merely reflected its coming-of-age, the council's fast start and its financial and political losses leave a legacy that will not be ignored by councils to come.