Carnesale must recognize existence of dissidence

The announcement of Chancellor Albert Carnesale’s
impending retirement has sparked the emergence of a uniformly
positive consensus on his tenure. However, as an undergraduate
activist and the founder and president of the UCLA-focused Bruin
Alumni Association, I count myself among those who hold a more
mixed view of the chancellor’s record.

The portrait of Carnesale that emerges from my personal
experience, and from the experiences of three major donors (who
have given over $1 million total to UCLA), is of a man quick to
anger and slow to forget. Carnesale can compete with the best
Fortune 500 executives in freezing out those he views as disloyal
to his cause ““ anyone who even appears to threaten
UCLA’s fundraising machine.

In 2002, as a third-year columnist with The Bruin, I ended up on
“The O’Reilly Factor” discussing the uproar over
graduate students who were condemning Laura Bush as unqualified to
speak at their School of Education commencement. As someone deeply
concerned about the campus’ expanding problem of political
radicalism, I expressed regret that UCLA hadn’t found itself
on the firing line for something more substantive than harboring a
rump group of radical students. Sure, it indicated a grim future
for thousands of future students unlucky enough to be taught by
these radicals, but UCLA was guilty of worse things, among them
having a corrupt, radical undergraduate student government. When
given the traditional “last word” by O’Reilly, I
urged those watching to withdraw their donations to UCLA and give
serious thought before making any future gifts, given that these
insults to common sense were a daily occurrence.

Bad move. I had unwittingly violated the chancellor’s
cardinal rule: Never, ever, under any circumstances interfere with
UCLA’s fundraising. My first clue that I had been exiled to
Carnesale’s political Siberia was his terse response to my
request that we meet in person to discuss the Laura Bush situation:
“I found neither your comments on TV nor the tone of your
message to be constructive, which leads me to doubt strongly that a
meeting with you would be productive. In short, I see no reason for
us to meet.”

Thus rebuffed, the chancellor and I went our separate ways until
I stirred up another controversy in August 2002 with my column,
“Professor Ripston.” The column, detailing my political
science class taught by Ramona Ripston, executive director of the
Southern California American Civil Liberties Union, circulated
widely, even making the UC Regents’ daily press briefing. One
regent, outraged by Ripston’s endorsement of an
anti-death-penalty petition circulated in the class, called
Carnesale to express his concern. This annoyance earned me another
mark in Carnesale’s black book, as I learned upon e-mailing
him to discuss the issues I raised in the article. He shot back:
“I regret that you have again been disappointed with UCLA;
however, in this instance, as in the case of your appearance on
television, I do not find your approach to issues to be
constructive. Accordingly, I do not share your interest in the
prospect of our meeting to discuss this matter.”

Carnesale’s snide reference to my appearance on “The
O’Reilly Factor” came over six months later. That brief
moment in the sun was but a distant memory for me. But for
Carnesale, the man in charge of the premier public-research
university in Southern California, the incident still rankled. He
hadn’t forgotten.

Despite these rejections, I’m hopeful that past will not
be prologue. Perhaps in his last year of service, the chancellor
will step forward and be the leader this campus needs. If the
chancellor will acknowledge the existence ““ and legitimacy
““ of dissident voices such as the Bruin Alumni Association,
everyone stands to benefit. For my part, I’m extending an
olive branch. I hope Chancellor Carnesale will accept it.