Understandable, But Not Defensible

A few nights ago, University President Drew Faust released a statement on the Michael Brown and Eric Garner cases that reads as follows:

“Black lives matter. It has taken far too long to make that fundamental truth a living, essential part of the fabric of our society, our government, and our lives. Martin Luther King Jr. made clear a half century ago why we can’t wait. What was urgent then is imperative now.”

Immediately after the statement’s release, my Facebook newsfeed filled with justified indignation from my fellow students. President Faust’s statement utterly fails to do justice to the situation, to the sensitive and important issues these two rulings bring to the forefront, to the tension that the current state of race relations in America rightfully engenders—and has engendered since well before the cases in Ferguson and Staten Island—in much of the student body. Since then, Dean of the College Rakesh Khurana has weighed in with a far more complete response; still, I wonder how President Faust considered her woefully inadequate statement an appropriate reaction.

In particular, a classmate pointed out the enormous disparity between this paragraph and President Faust’s much longer, more detailed response to the controversy regarding an Extension School group’s planned “Black Mass” last semester. I do not object to the length of the latter by itself. Though I did not find the Black Mass personally offensive, I recognize why others did, and the University was justified in providing a thorough response. But if that situation merited four paragraphs, how do Michael Brown and Eric Garner merit only four sentences?

To me, this incident conforms to a pattern of behavior from the University that I have come to term “understandable, but not defensible.” It is understandable, but not defensible, that the administration is reticent to divest from fossil fuels and eschew legacy-based admissions. This kind of institutional inertia is unsurprising even as both fact and opinion move away from Harvard’s positions. It is understandable, but not defensible, that the University hesitates in reforming its sexual assault policies. One need only look at current controversies at University of Virginia and within the University of California system to see the pressure against meaningful action, however sorely that action is required.

And it is understandable, but certainly not defensible, that President Faust’s statements on the two controversies—on the Black Mass and on black lives—differ so greatly. The former directly involved Harvard and happened on campus. The latter is, at least to those of us not dealing daily with systematic racism, tangential to the University. The former arguably required more explanation such that students on the two sides of the issue could better understand each others’ ideological foundations. The latter is more cut-and-dry, with an eminently hashtaggable three word phrase—“black lives matter”—that summarizes the conflict and one’s stance on the subject. These justifications are understandable, but not defensible.

But what makes this disparity truly problematic is the power dynamic involved. When President Faust wrote an extensive response to the Black Mass, the offended group was the empowered one. While claims can perhaps be made to some historical mistreatment of Catholicism, it still represents the larger, more mainstream voice compared with Satanic rituals, even Satanic rituals performed in the interest of historical inquiry. The same cannot even remotely be said of the current situation, in which a clearly oppressed group attempts to speak out against its oppressors.

President Faust’s response in March established that she could use her statements to make substantive comments on controversial subjects. This makes the inadequacy of her recent statement even more glaring. Six months ago, she chose to exercise her power to support an empowered group with which she could likely identify. This would not be offensive if not for the fact that Faust has now chosen not to exercise the same power to support a marginalized minority, a decision that sadly conforms to the administration’s pattern of understandable, but not defensible, behavior.

I do not allege conscious mistakes on President Faust’s part, only oversight arising from the deeply flawed system and society of which she is a part. Indeed, I hope I am misinterpreting her short statement. Perhaps the intent was to be more powerful through brevity. But the complete failure to mention any of the reasons the current situation is so urgent—the proximate causes of the Michael Brown and Eric Garner cases, the campus context of this month’s protests and “I, Too, Am Harvard,” the greater problem of race in America—precludes this optimistic interpretation.

As I write this, I am fully aware that I do so from a position of extreme privilege. As a white man from an upper-middle class suburban home, I will never experience the kinds of injustice that have led to this month’s protests. I can neither pretend I comprehend how it must currently feel to be an African American watching and experience these events nor attempt to speak on behalf of those who do. I can only express my own disappointment and offer my voice for direction towards its greatest use.

Jeremy Y. Venook ’15 is a social studies concentrator in Winthrop House.