Hands off my boycott

It's not often that one finds oneself torn between two boycotts. This year's inaugural day at University, however, produced more rumblings of protest than I could comfortably consume.

First, there was the general boycott. I must admit that to start off with I wasn't too excited about the decision by academic staff to stay away from the inaugural ceremony. For one, I find it hard to find a rational stand-alone argument why we, rather than, say, permanent secretaries or beach cleaners, deserve higher salaries.

Obviously, I'd love to earn more money for the same work, and I also think that many lecturers well deserve the compliment. I suspect, however, that permanent secretaries and beach cleaners feel much the same about their own services to the planet - and I honestly can't see why they are less and we more right.

That was until I saw the government's reaction. 'Take it or leave it' - the arrogance is breathtaking. Not, it seems, for the army of bloggers who saw madmen in the bus drivers, moaners in the dockyard workers, and gluttons in us academics. But then, we have it from reliable sources that only Labour employs 'elves'. In any case, events quickly dispelled my doubts and I'm glad that I, like my colleagues, boycotted the ceremony.

The catch is that I would have done so anyway, dispute or no dispute. In fact, I have boycotted every inaugural ceremony since I joined University six years ago. What bothers me is the religious bit. As it is, our opening day is a strange concoction of speeches by the people who matter (i.e. the Rector and the Students Council representative), and motions by the people who deem it their business to matter (i.e. priests).

There are three reasons why I so resist the inaugural Mass. All three are as terribly old-fashioned as they are still very valid.

First, I strongly believe that the Church and/or a religious presence of any sort have no place whatsoever at a modern University. Autonomy, from Church and State, should be a central tenet of the academy - which is why I am equally set against the hijacking by politicians of important events on campus. Take away that, and the intellectual freedom that comes with it, and University may as well be called a training college.

It was not so long ago that our University, particularly in the humanities and social sciences, and for historical rather than conspiratorial reasons, was completely dominated by priests. Especially in certain fields, it was next to impossible to find an academic who could say anything without lapsing into a sermon on the wickedness of sex. Not exactly sterling scholarship, shall we say.

Second, religious ritual is only inclusive when the would-be participants are a homogenous group, united in their basic beliefs at least. In a mixed environment it serves the opposite function, namely to exclude.

In other words, planting a Cross as the backdrop to the Rector's speech, and having 'Ite, missa est' as the grand finale, assumes that our institution is a Catholic one where academics and students subscribe to the same beliefs. Well, we don't, and many of us are not happy to take part in Catholic ritual - which does somewhat exclude us from the ceremony. (One might add that the University of Malta these days welcomes hundreds of international students some of whom come from different religious backgrounds.) Of course, one could always stand up and leave as soon as cassock replaces gown, but why be forced to be rude?

Third, I happen to quite agree with Ernest Gellner's quip that a truly civil society is one in which one can 'join the Labour Party without slaughtering a sheep'.

In other words, it is made up of associations and institutions which one joins or leaves freely, and not by birthright or religious tradition. When the institutions of a supposedly civil society resort to 'awesome ritual' for sustenance, there is something wrong. At best, it is an anachronism. Civil society should by all means respect religion, but it should also recognise that there is a time and place for everything. I suggest that the inaugural ceremony of a secular University is not the right time or place for a religious ritual.

One might argue that I'm reading too much into the inaugural Mass, and that it is simply a tradition that serves to foster a sense of continuity with the past - rather like the funny gowns and mortar boards that make up our ceremonial regalia (and that I'm all for, incidentally).

I wish I could agree. I well remember the Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge mumbling something in Latin while I held on to the Praelector's finger (I'm not joking) at my graduation. That was tradition. Last Tuesday's inaugural Mass was not. The giveaway is the use of Latin, and the sheer barminess of it all; with tradition, it is not so much meaning that matters as the repetition of words and actions whose origins are lost in the 'mists of time'.

My wishes for next year's inaugural ceremony are as follows, in order of preference. First, a secular do with no priests and/or politicians attached. Second, a Mass (if we must) in Latin. Third, my traditional private boycott, which hopefully will not be usurped by the Malta Union of Teachers and University of Malta Academic Staff Association.

mafalzon@hotmail.com