The spring of 1993 was supposed to be Sheldon Hackneys swan song a chance for the departing Penn president to say goodbye to an institution on which he had made a profound and lasting impact during his 12 years in office. Early on in the semester, it had become clear that Hackney was a frontrunner for the National Endowment for the Humanities chairmanship, a nomination that would thrust the southern historian-turned-university administrator onto the national stage. <\/p>\n
Instead, Hackneys final months at Penn became, in his own words, the spring from hell. <\/p>\n
I recall it not only as the worst time of my life, he once wrote, but as an out-of-body experience. <\/p>\n
For all of Hackneys achievements over his first 11 years in office, the former presidents handling of two free speech incidents in 1993, his final year, will remain forever etched into his Penn legacy. For some, the incidents the theft of an entire press run of The Daily Pennsylvanian and the now-infamous water buffalo affair are mere footnotes to Hackneys time at the University. For others, they are headlines. <\/p>\n
The DP theft and the water buffalo affair, both of which had strong racial undercurrents, set off a national debate that brought Penns judicial system, the Universitys speech policies and Hackney himself under fire. <\/p>\n
Related: From water buffalo to BDS, Penn faces free speech questions <\/p>\n
By the time Hackney officially left the University to head up the NEH, he had taken a pummeling in the national media that was unlike what any Penn president had ever experienced. U.S. News and World Report started the tradition of giving out an annual Sheldon Award an honor bestowed upon the college administrator who did the most to look the other way while free speech was being stifled on campus. A Wall Street Journal editorial writer who had penned several less-than-flattering pieces about Hackney told the former Penn president that he had been the leading actor in the darkest moment for human freedom in the history of western civilization. <\/p>\n
The Washington Times dubbed him Mr. Wimp; CNN and ABC covered a Victims of Sheldon Hackney press conference; scores of other outlets labeled him as the purveyor of political correctness run amok. <\/p>\n
Hackneys handling of the 1993 incidents raised questions that today remain largely unanswered. What role does a university president have in balancing free speech and racial inclusivity on a diverse campus like Penns? When is it acceptable for a president to intervene in campus-level judicial proceedings? And in Hackneys case, is it fair to judge a president who, by and large, had done much good at his institution based on actions during his final months in office? <\/p>\n
Sheldon was a man who liked to make people happy, Linda Wilson, who was Hackneys chief of staff in 1993, said. Wilson was also a close friend of Hackneys, who died Sept. 12. If you put yourself in his position back then, it was impossible to make people happy. <\/p>\n
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Read more: The spring of 1993 was supposed to be Sheldon Hackneys swan song a chance for the departing Penn president to say goodbye to an institution on which he had made a profound and lasting impact during his 12 years in office. Early on in the semester, it had become clear that Hackney was a frontrunner for the National Endowment for the Humanities chairmanship, a nomination that would thrust the southern historian-turned-university administrator onto the national stage. Instead, Hackneys final months at Penn became, in his own words, the spring from hell Continue reading
\nA lasting influence under Hackney on free speech rights<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"