COLLEGE STATION, Tex. — The most dangerous young man on campus stands about five and a half feet tall, covers his fiery red hair with a modest ball cap, drawls sir and ma’am at his elders, and seems well on his way to establishing a fine medical practice someday. First, he has the weekend to get through.
The young man, Justin Pulliam, 19, the chairman of the Texas A&M University chapter of the Young Conservatives of Texas, has been asked to attend a forum featuring two presidents of the United States, one of them the current officeholder.
“I actually did get an invitation,” Mr. Pulliam said, “but I had to decline due to our protest.”
All across campus, from the large-animal veterinary clinics to the storied Military Walk, students, professors and administrators have been bracing for the arrival on Friday of President Obama, an admitted Democrat and, here, a suspected socialist. For an institution often cast as country cousin to the University of Texas at Austin, a turn in the national spotlight will present the chance to put on a display of diversity, hospitality and achievement. Or not.
Founded during Reconstruction as a men’s technical college, A&M (which stood for Agricultural and Mechanical) has nurtured a stoic brand of conservatism steeped in the tradition of its Aggie farmer nickname and the Corps of Cadets.
Public service is a serious proposition typified by the annual Big Event, a sort of latter-day barn-raising that deploys thousands of students in College Station and across the nearby city of Bryan to mow lawns, pick up litter, paint and perform odd jobs. In recent years, the university has established an international presence with a robust student exchange program and centers in Mexico, Italy and Qatar.
Still, this is no Berkeley. The university last made national news in 1999 for the collapse of a pep rally bonfire tower that killed 12 people. A walk across campus remains a quiet, almost solemn idyll, where cadets march in formation, the most provocative T-shirts feature slogans in favor of Jesus and the destination signs on shuttles flash “Bush School.”
The first President Bush (“Forty-one” to his admirers), for whom the school of government is named, bears responsibility for inviting his less-conservative successor to the campus. On Friday afternoon, Mr. Obama is to join Mr. Bush before an invitation-only audience of 2,500 at Rudder Auditorium to commemorate the 20th anniversary of ”Points of Light,” the presidential call to volunteer service.
“Surely everyone, almost everyone, anyhow, will take pride in a visit by a sitting president,” said George C. Edwards III, a distinguished professor of political science at the university.
For his part, Mr. Bush has been taking no chances. After a summer of contentious nationwide protests culminating in an outburst during a Congressional address, Mr. Bush issued a call for decorum on the front page of the student newspaper this week.
“Howdy,” his letter began, going on to renounce politics for the occasion and conclude: “I cannot wait for Obama to experience the open, decent and welcoming Aggie spirit for himself. This will be an important national moment, and a moment for Texas A&M to shine in the national spotlight as it always does. I hope and believe it will serve as a point of Aggie pride for many years to come.”
But among the great Aggie traditions, few outshine the spirit of the Twelfth Man, a reference to the stadium crowds at Kyle Field taking an active role, by force of volume and sheer will, in the outcome of events.
Unchecked fervor, of course, can be a raw and fearsome thing. Last year, the Young Conservatives embarrassed the university by throwing eggs at a picture of Mr. Obama (“He’ll throw away your nest egg,” was the topical message lost to history) on national television. T-shirts bearing the legend “Beat the Hell Outta Obama,” an ad hominem twist on a football slogan, did little to improve matters.
“He’s the president, and I respect him and I respect the office, but I’m afraid students may not get that,” said Hayden Paul, 19, a sophomore student government official. “We’ve got student groups on campus that may do something stupid, and that scares me to death.”
Mr. Pulliam, the leader of the Young Conservatives, was raised on a 100-acre cattle spread near the North Texas city of Sherman. He counts 90 followers paying $20 for an annual membership, which includes a maroon T-shirt depicting the school mascot, a purebred collie, Reveille, and the slogan “Don’t Tread on Me.”
Believing his fellow students have lost their conservatism to a mix of apathy and professorial indoctrination, he has planned a rally for Friday afternoon involving costumes like Dr. Obama (a jab at the president’s stance on health care), the Grim Reaper (a less subtle jab on the same topic), and Uncle Sam (?).
Since the egg-throwing episode, Mr. Pulliam has grown determined to keep protest signs focused on policy messages. But he has little control over the nonstudent groups, the likes of the Tea Party chapters of Dallas and Houston, that have announced plans to join his protest. Though he submitted a request for space across from the auditorium, Mr. Pulliam anticipates being pushed across campus.
“It seems that maybe the university administration,” he said, “has been letting the White House be their main client.”
Interesting. Strange blend of politics. It's like taking a sleeping bag rated to -40 degrees to a campout in Death Valley in the middle of July.
ReplyDelete