Stephen
Rosen, Kaneb Professor of National Security and Military Affairs at Harvard
June 6, 2007
I am honored to be here more than I can say. Today is a day of celebration,
but also of leave taking. I would like first to speak to the Harvard students,
soon to be graduates, who are leaving Harvard and entering into active duty in
the armed services of the United States of America. Then, I would like to speak
to your families who are here to see you commence your new lives.
Graduating seniors, four years ago you were chosen by Harvard. The most
intelligent and accomplished high school students in the country, and the world,
competed for entrance into Harvard, and Harvard chose you. Teaching you at
Harvard has been a joy, but you were chosen because we hoped and believed that
you would make a difference in the world when you left Harvard. The fact that
you are here is a sure sign you will fulfill those hopes and beliefs. Four years
ago, Harvard chose you, and four years ago you chose military service. You chose
military service in 2003, in a time of war. You chose military service, knowing
that you could be sent by your country in harm’s way. You did not choose the
peacetime military, but, rather, the life of a warrior. Harvard honors public
service, but is uneasy with national military service, because it is uneasy with
war, and with warriors, and it is no longer comfortable with the idea of Harvard
as an American university, as opposed to an international university. We all
wish to avoid war, none more so than the men and women who must confront the
face of war directly. We welcome students and faculty from around the world. But
the United States is our country. Without the United States, there would be no
Harvard, and we should never forget that. And our country is still at war, and
so I salute your courage, your commitment to national service, and the
sacrifices you have made and will make.
Let me speak now to the families of the graduating seniors. In one way, I have
little right to speak to you. For the past five years, the president of Harvard
has addressed this meeting, and I am not the president of Harvard. I was never
in the military, nor do I have children in the military. But I do have former
students, some of whom I have known since childhood, now in the American
military, and serving in Iraq. I have taught some of the seniors we are saluting
today. I can feel some faint echo of the feelings you have today, your pride,
and your cares, as you enjoy these days with your children before the leave. I
am not a warrior. I read books for my living, and so now I think of the books I
have read. Willa Cather wrote a book, One of Our Own, set in America in
1917. She tells the story of a mid-Western young man who has volunteered to
fight in the world war in France, because France is the country of culture, and
liberty, and Lafayette. He spends his last day before leaving with his mother,
who is old, and almost blind. They have a happy day together, and then, in
uniform, he leaves the house he grew up in. She lingers in the door, trying to
see him, and when he is gone she cries out, “Old eyes! You have cheated me! You
have denied me the sight of my glorious son!” Today, we older people here are
happy not to be denied the sight of these glorious young men and women as they
leave, but, in truth, we will be much happier to see them when they come back to
us, safe and sound.
To you all! This is a serious and splendid day. My congratulations and best
wishes go out to all of you, as well as my thanks for being allowed to be a part
of it.