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
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