Discussion and debate have been the hallmarks of American college and university campuses for more than a couple of centuries, until now.  Where different philosophies and points of view could be examined and expounded, usually safely despite raised voices in sometimes tense surroundings, today’s public and private institutions of higher learning are under attack by the Trump Administration.  Threats include loss of federal funding grants for schools that uphold diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) as core principles, as well as questioning the endowments that alumni and supporters contributed to establish financial stability for future generations.  Independence of thought, and respect for that independence, can be challenging to all sides; without it, education fails.

I was a freshman at the University of Oregon in 1962 when controversy hit the campus during winter term, testing the First Amendment and tolerance of other opinions.  In the first instance, preacher Homer Tomlinson invited himself to college campuses as the self-styled “King of the World,” and planned to crown himself “King of the University of Oregon.” His platform opposed war and sin and lauded the “rain (sic) of righteousness.”  He set up a lawn chair on the steps of the Student Union and used a bullhorn to speak to students who jeered, threw tomatoes, and sprayed him with shaving cream. It was not the university’s finest hour, but shortly after, the student body created a free speech platform in front of the Student Union which invited speakers to share their opinions or beliefs with anyone who wanted to listen. The wooden structure later was replaced by a sturdier brick lectern still in use.

That February, Gus Hall, former general secretary of the Communist Party in the United States, was invited to speak at the university.  Who invited him is unclear, but Arthur Flemming, Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare in the Eisenhower Administration, was in his “freshman” year as president of the university and made the final decision to allow Hall to speak.  Flemming bore the brunt of outside opposition, but the faculty and University community, including those who had opposed Hall’s coming, stood behind his decision.  Hall’s appearance was slated for Mac Court, the basketball arena, but the venue was switched to Hayward Field, the football stadium, after a bomb threat.  Rain didn’t dampen the turnout; between 7000 and 10,000 people showed up for what might be called today a “nothing burger.”  His speech wasn’t violent, wasn’t stimulating, and wasn’t long, but was disappointing in its lack of any food for thought.  An item in the 1962 yearbook noted that “whatever else is said about Gus Hall, he caused a sense of unity in the University which was a wonderful thing to behold in the time of such intense emotion.  Gus Hall left the University of Oregon better than he found it.”   

More than 60 years later, the principles that undergirded the University community’s response and adherence to free speech can be both a support and a warning in today’s educational atmosphere.  The same 1962 yearbook pointed out that “the willingness to listen to differences of opinion serves as a stimulus to creative and intelligent thinking.  In the educational process, this stimulus is vital to development of the individual…controversy is often the seed of great achievement.”  Isn’t that what higher education should teach us?