The Undergraduate Council: Hold The Politics, Please

Over the years, Undergraduate Council representatives have earned a reputation for being political wannabes whose primary goal is to gain attention.

But for an alleged assembly of budding politicos, this year's council representatives were surprisingly apolitical. To its credit, the council seemed to demonstrate a true commitment to student services. But its reluctance to act as a student voice made the ninth Undergraduate Council nearly invisible to most students.

So invisible, in fact, that the student governing body recently spent $275 of its student-funded budget on a self-promotion campaign to poster the campus with the lists of the council's accomplishments over the year. The posters, like the Council, went largely unnoticed.

No Respect

Student disregard for the council affected not only its reputation, but also its pocketbook. The council's budget--much of which gets funneled directly to student organizations--was hurt by a large increase in the number of students who chose to withhold council dues from their tuition checks.

Representatives speculated about the reason so many students were reluctant to fund the council's bank account. Many suggested that it was the organization's diastrous attempts to deal with political issues, such as the much-protested attempt to bring ROTC back to campus in 1989. Others thought it might be botched council projects, like the financially disastrous 1989 Suzanne Vega concert. Still others suggested the council's institutional ineptitude, exemplified by its failure to achieve a quorum at several meetings in the spring of 1990.

Regardless of the reasons, it was clear to council members that Harvard's only umbrella student government was getting no respect.

And too many years of serving as a campus laughing stock forced council members to consider which was preferable: to be a loud and active campus voice and risk ridicule, or to keep a low profile and work with little recognition. Hence the age-old council debate of services vs. politics.

Tame from the Outset

At the outset, the council seemed to have the potential for a tame year on the campus political scene.

In the fall, the council elected as its chair Evan B. Rauch '91-'92, the former secretary who distinguished himself through his careful note-taking and dry sense of humor. Rauch was chosen over more ideological candidates such as Randal S. Jeffrey '91, a leading force on the council's ad-hoc committees on divestment and minority-women faculty hiring, and Joel D. Hornstein '91-'92, who favored the abolition of all of the council's political committees.

Rauch, who emphasized the importance of a "grass-roots council," said he stood for a modest political agenda with a strong commitment to student services.

After leading the council through a quiet semester, Rauch ran again in the spring, but was outsted by Robert C. Rhew '92, the co-chair of the fall semester's services committee. Rhew said the council should stay away from "pointless" political issues over which the council could have no effect.

And as Rhew stepped into his new role, Jeffrey-- who had been the council's only active political voice in the fall--bid the student government an unexpected goodbye. Jeffrey told council members he resigned because of time constraints. Several weeks later, he founded the Progressive Students Association.

Rhew made an attempt to tackle politics early on, when he called for a committee to work with the Administration-appointed date rape task force. His idea was nixed by the executive board before it could reach the council floor.

"I was willing to deal with a very delicate issue with the date rape task force," Rhew said in an interview last April, after he attended a conference with representatives of Ivy League student governments.

Rhew said that students at other colleges thought the council's ROTC debate--which was widely protested by groups who decried the military's anti-gay policy--was one of the Harvard student government's greatest accomplishments.

"Dartmouth people complimented me on that issue," Rhew said, adding that the Dartmouth students congratulated the council for initiating campus discourse.

Rhew marveled at the amount of attention students and administrators at Brown and Columbia paid their student governments, and conceded that Harvard's council, too, has the potential to make a difference.

"It's incredible how much voice they have in student government," he said of Brown students, adding that the council should attempt to assert itself in a similar way. "It's such a silly thing to just run away from political things because they can be labeled political. If they can help students, we might as well tackle it."

But Rhew's eagerness didn't lead to any noticeable change in his organization's actions. Back in its Canaday basement office, the council remained committed to services, and services alone.

Rhew attributed the council's silence on the political front to the disappearance of activist movers and shakers, most notably Jeffrey. "No one was willing to fill his shoes," Rhew said.

Not So Exciting

One of the spring council's few heated debates took place in March, when the council voted to release a statement about the Confederate flag Bridget Kerrigan '91 hung from her Kirkland House window. Although the flag controversy sparked fierce campus debate, it had become an old issue by the time the council considered taking a stand, and Dean of the College L. Fred Jewett '57 had already issued a statement voicing the administration's standpoint.

Much of the council's debate that evening focused not on the organization's position about free speech, but on whether the student government should enter the campus flag discussion at all.

Representatives' few other attempts to address political issues such as the Gulf War and the oppression of Kurds in Iraq met with overwhelming opposition from the bulk of the council.

Due to the lack of serious debate, council meetings this year were shorter than usual. Even the most articulate representatives couldn't come up with witty dissent to milk-and-cookies study breaks or congratulatory letters to President-designate Neil L. Rudenstine.

"We don't do much controversial stuff," observed former council Secretary David L. Duncan '93 at the council's April 21 meeting. "In some ways it's good. In other ways may be...it makes me less excited to come to meetings."

Invisible Council?

So the council's $275 publicity list includes shuttlebus service to the airport, a modest calendar change resulting in two extra days of intersession, and a number of milk-and-cookies study breaks. And although council members claim that students have benefited from these services, they concede that Harvard's undergraduate student government has not served as a form for student opinions and concerns.

"We're not going to attract anyone to come to our debate on whether or not we should fund Quadfest, but people have clearly been interested in UC debate on political issues," says spring term Vice Chair David A. Aronberg '93.

"I think it's important for the UC to maintain at least a little bit of interest among students." Aronberg adds. "If we don't get into political discussion at least occasionally then students will begin to forget the UC even exists."