l.i I 0 o r Zurnberge When James H. Zurnberge accepted the UNL chancellorship one year ago he called the position "the most challenging job" of his life. Three weeks later he found himself, in the midst of a student-administration disagreement over coed visitation. Initially, Zurnberge supported the status quo visitation policy. But, even so, one opposing student leader of the threatened mass violation df visitation standards described the chancellor throughout the crisis as a man who "tried to find out student opinion and to see things from all sides." The visitation problem was resolved when Zurnberge decided to use the authority of his office to modify the old policy. The modifications essentially met all the requests that had been made by students and a potentially damaging confrontation was averted. Zumberge's decision seems now to have been an admirable reflection of what he said when he took office: "universities should get out of the business of playing mamma and pappa." During the much criticized World in Revolution Conference on Justice in America (March, 1972), Zurnberge again found himself between a rock and a hard spot. Although his support of the student-initiated program was less than adamant, the chancellor did defend the concept of free inquiry and free speech, qualified by an explanation that certain kinds of language can impede communication. Zurnberge began his tenure with an expressed desire to close the credibility gap between' the Legislature and the University. Judging from recent events at the State Capitol, including the governor's proposed budget, that desire is thus far unfulfilled. Another of the chancellor's early suggestions was that ASUN devise a method of funding itself which would eliminate i the indirect control currently exercised by,th0 Board of Regents over the ASUN budget. Observing that obtaining revenue from a source other than the regents would end "the annual ball game of seeing what you can get by the Board of Regents." Zurnberge suggested last spring that perhaps ASUN should levy taxes, as a legislative body, on students to pay for ASUN programs. Although such a student tax plan might have trouble gaining student acceptance, the chancellor apparently is aware of the benefits it could bring to the student government and the student body in general. Regent control of ASUN purse strings would be greatly lessened, if not eliminated. Student interest in ASUN, conspicuous historically only in its absence, undoubtedly would increase dramatically. Student senators and ASUN executives would be free to develop their programs. One year ago Zurnberge described the academic situation at UNL as "not all that great." That assessment probably is still considered accurate by a large portion of the UNL student body. But some advances have been made. A commission is in the process of investigating the entire freshman year. Some departments have reorganized their introductory courses. The University Studies program has been established, financed by a grant from the Ford Foundation. The College of Agriculture has initiated several new programs, among them a student-advisor project. Obviously, the chancellor has not been involved directly in these developments. But it must be assumed that under his leadership the chancellor's office has fostered the kind of atmosphere conducive to their evolution. In his first year at UNL, Chancellor Zurnberge has not been a total success. But he hasn't been a failure either. And he has demonstrated an encouraging, although restrained, interest in working with students to maintain freedoms and improve the quality of the University environment. ' Tom Lansworth &Tkiaexptriexv3 of DejaW is the feeling of leaving" iean someplace fceor.l it an eerie sensation ,2nC nob lotx&lTtitg e&tiy&rfollm. Kowsvsr, every experience lilte "this is not necessarily Deja Vv. IL 14 i Draw in ftie Background Ybvr own MK2se"J)ejaW.E3m:Jl3iliBiebgy Ciasj.wc&onalds, or a Television Joe Sikspak's famous end to a glorious war Qithur ' hoppe inftocont Dear President: I, Joe Sikspak, American, take pen in hand to lift my cap to you. I don't know how you done it. I dropped by Paddy's Place the other night. He's got the TV going and there you are, finishing up telling us how the war is over. "Give me a Seven-high, Paddy," says I, "and toss in a beer chaser to celebrate us being out of that mess." i "Wi.'J-.r, I ilk W S? 1 ly-V Jl tjT -rarss.! "Mess!" says Paddy. "You are referring to 'one of the most selfless enterprises in the history of nations.'" "Who says so?" says I. "The President says so," says Paddy. "And furthermore he said three times we all ought to be proud of the glorious role our great nation played in this noble war." "I'll try, Paddy," says I. "You should, Joe," says Paddy, "because at last we got peace with honor. The President said so four times." "For the past couple of years," says I, "I would of settled for any kind we could get." "Shame on you, Joe," says Paddy. "If it were left up to the likes of you we never would have won this famous victory." "Make that a boilermaker, Paddy," says I. "You mean to say we won the war?" "I'm not saying it, Joe," says Paddy. "The President says it. Thanks to our selfless enterprise, the justness of our cause and our dropping seven million tons of bombs on their heads, we have at last forced the heathen enemy to their knees." 'The President said that?" says I. "Yes, sir," says Paddy. "How can you win peace with honor without a victory? We forced them to knuckle under and yield abjectly, the President said, to 'all the demands' he'd laid down." "And they caved in?" says I. 'What else could they do?' says Paddy. "We'd killed a million of them. So in the surrender agreement they signed, they promised to let our troops retreat to Thailand or Hawaii or wherever, leaving only 145,000 of theirs hanging around." "And I thought they'd never give up," says I. "What's more," says Paddy, "they even agreed to holding the free elections they'd been asking for since 1954. Thanks to our spending $140 billion and 45,000 American lives, those people out there are going to get what the President called 'the precious right to determine' their own future." "What's that mean, Paddy?" says I. "It means they'll get a free choice," says Paddy, "between General Thieu's dictatorship and a Communist dictatorship. If the elections are ever held." "I can't help being sorry for the enemy," says I, "getting licked like this." "Don't be, Joe," says Paddy. 'They're claiming they won a famous victory in a glorious war, too." "How can they say a thing like that, Paddy?" says I. "You know these asiatics, Joe," says Paddy. "All they care about is saving face." So my cap's off to you, President, for pulling a famous victory out of the fire. Seeing how much this victory cost us and what it got us, I sure would of hated seeing us get whipped. Truly yours, Joe Sikspak (Copyriflht Chronlct. Publiihino Co. 1973) daily nebraskan friday, february 2, 1973 t v . dkf-G'-" page 4