A Chair Under Wraps

AROUND HERE, when you put together a story from several sources a little gossip seems routine. As the core of fact grows, the gossip usually sloughs away. It was only trivia.

A Program of Modern Greek Studies is in the making at Harvard and administrators answer questions about the amount of money it has received cryptically, if at all. Last spring, when there were no funds for the program in sight, the same people at Mass Hall or Holyoke Center would talk about Greek studies calmly and with a brave hint of enthusiasm in their voices as they ventured that a professorship in Modern Greek Studies might become a reality in five or six years. Now that a chair has actually been endowed with the necessary $1 million, inquiries about the program seem to grate on official nerves. As usual, you can wrangle some gossip here and there. But the aura of intrigue surrounding this story is definitely not routine.

It seems the University has been toying with the idea of a program in modern Greek studies for nearly ten years. More than 30,000 modern Greek books line Widener's shelves--probably the best collection of its kind outside of Greece. But reams of books aren't enough to goad Harvard into spending money. Dean Rosovsky recommended a professorship in the field to the Corporation last winter after he was petitioned from outside the University.

A slim blue brochure that falls open like an accordion to reveal a thumbnail photo on each of its rectangular faces (among these are Bok, the chair's namesake George Seferis and an ancient Greek coin labeled "The Cost") was printed this summer. Apparently, that's about the extent of Harvard's participation in the campaign for funds. When asked if the University Development Office was actively arranging for the chair, Charles D. Thompson '48 replied that "actively is a funny word; my office is handling a lot of programs at this point" and conceded that, unlike with other programs, no one in his office had solicited funds personally.

The strategy applied to fund-raising is tinged by psychological considerations. Thompson feels that a campaign gains momentum if it can already boast of a donation when it goes into full sway.

At least psychologically, a vigorous push to finance the Program for Modern Greek Studies seems like a pretty shrewd move right now. Reliable sources contend that Constantine A. Trypanis, the Greek Minister of Civilization and Culture, spent two days in Cambridge last July to clinch an agreement on the chair between Harvard and the Greek government. Trypanis left a check for $1 million to endow the George Seferis Professorship in Modern Greek Studies. A lump sum of $2 million will make the entire program feasible by providing for an assistant professorship, two graduate student fellowships and library funds.

YET THERE is a hitch to Trypanis's generosity: Harvard has had to keep the grant tightly under wraps. It's not hard to guess why, but it is impossible to be sure of the reasons. Trypanis is vulnerable to adverse reactions from Greeks on a couple of points.

Greece is bolstering its military strength in case of an armed confrontation with Turkey over Cyprus and over territorial rights in the Aegean sea, where oil has been found. Funneling money to an American university doesn't jibe with political priorities and could hurt the Caramanlis government.

Second, Trypanis caused a furor last spring by giving a roving theater group almost a third of a million dollars because he happened to choose a company whose choreographer is the daughter of President Tsatsos. His latest gift can be linked with the president's family also, since Mrs. Ioanna Tsatsos is the sister of the late George Seferis.

Harvard's willingness to cover for the Greek government is more mysterious. It may simply be a symptom of the ambivalence that has marked the administration's approach to modern Greek studies all along: The program was initiated from outside; it was designed at a slow pace; and according to President Horner, it has not even been discussed by the Faculty Council yet.

Sticking by the agreement not to talk threatens to damage the credibility of members of the administration--if not their integrity. The donation from Trypanis seems to be an open secret and fragments of the deal are seeping out of many quarters.

The latest report from the Recording Secretary's office is that an endowment of $1 million for the George Seferis chair was submitted to the Corporation and approved by it on Sept. 8. But this information is confusingly pitted against the word of another official source, President Bok.

Bok says the Corporation does not ordinarily approve such endowments. The only way this could have happenend, he says, is "If a special exception were being made by funding a chair that didn't have the normal amount necessary or for which the full amount would be delayed," or if "a certain gimmick" were involved. When pressed for assurance that a "gimmick" did not figure in this case, Bok limited himself to a slightly ambiguous last remark: "The Corporation would very rarely approve a gift of money, and I was present at that meeting and I do not remember any such issue being discussed."

Other scraps that might fit into the whole picture include a tip that Trypanis is promoting a personal favorite for the chair--Speros Vryonis, Jr., Professor of Byzantine History at the Near Eastern Center of the University of California in Los Angeles--and a statement form the Harvard University Press that a book of Ioanna Tsatsos titled My Brother George Seferis is "under consideration."

At some time the partners in this compact shrugged off accountability to their respective communities--perhaps with the simplistic kind of rationale offered by a source in Holyoke Center: "If this were the government of South Vietnam, let's say, we might have something to be ashamed about."