
Issue of
June 14, 2000
 

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'The joy and sadness of
last days'
These are the prepared remarks of
President Gerhard Casper at the 109th Annual
Commencement, Sunday, June 11, 2000, at Stanford Stadium.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I warmly welcome each and all of
you to the 109th Commencement Exercises of Stanford
University.
A special welcome to the seniors and to the graduate
students from Stanford's various schools. Today, we shall
award 1,799 bachelor's degrees, 2,094 master's degrees,
and 922 doctoral degrees. That will bring the total of
degrees awarded while I have served as president of
Stanford to the rather incredible number of 36,506.
The college class of 2000 includes 314 seniors
graduating with departmental honors, and 260 graduating
with university distinction. 162 students have satisfied
the requirements of more than one major, 79 are
graduating with dual bachelor's degrees, and 318 with
both a bachelor's and a master's degree. 318 students
have completed 329 minors.
Many of you know that I am fond of saying that, at a
university, all days are first days. And yet today--there
is no getting around this--it is a last day for many of
us--myself included. Today, we share the joy and sadness
of last days. As we look back to our first Stanford days,
and all that has happened in-between, there is one
adjective that comes to mind--I learned it from you, it
is your favorite: these years have been awesome!
They have also been the final years of the 20th
century, "the age of extremes," according to
one historian. Centuries and millennia are, of course,
wholly arbitrary fictions of calendar makers. Yet, it is
convenient to divide up the past and place ourselves into
a context of events. This is especially appropriate
today, with the Secretary-General of the United Nations
as our honored guest.
Politically, the 20th century has been the century of
the first World War, of the Russian Revolution, of the
Stalinist evils, of the horrors perpetrated by Nazi
Germany, of the second World War that was followed by the
third, the cold, world war. Its second half has seen
decolonization, Mao, and the emergence of the People's
Republic of China as a major player. It has seen the
increasing significance of the global economy with Japan
and the world's second most populous nation and its
largest democracy, India, and other Asian countries as
important factors. It has seen the increasing
impoverishment and human devastation due to AIDS of large
parts of Africa. In the second half of the 20th century,
Western European nations have joined together in ways
that are breathtaking if judged against the history of
the entire second millennium. Finally, in what has
probably been the most significant political event of
your lives so far, with the Berlin Wall fell the Soviet
Union and its dominance over Central and Eastern Europe
and parts of Asia.
During all of this, the United States increased its
influence, while also undergoing significant internal
evolutions, most importantly the extension of civil
rights protection. The United States has seen many
aspects of the "American way of life,"
constitutional, cultural, and material, embraced abroad,
as we have come to think of the Earth as a global
village.
What would that village look like if we could shrink
the population of the Earth to a village of precisely 100
people with all existing human ratios remaining the same?
It would look something like this:
- there would be 60 Asians, 14 villagers would be
from the Americas (North and South), 13 from
Africa, and 13 from Europe
- 34 would be Christians and 66 would have other or
no religious affiliations
- approximately 54 would be unable to read and 3
would own a computer
- only 1 would have a college education
As that 1 in 100 with a college education, much will
be asked and expected of you in addressing the problems
of the world you now enter. If I may repeat what I said
to the Seniors at Class Day yesterday: As you attempt to
lead truthful and moral lives, and as university
graduates, remember what an unidentified French
theologian once said: The most corrupting lies are
problems poorly stated. It is hard to get things right
but, with a sense of intellectual probing and moral
humility, it can be done.
All of you, seniors and graduate students, in the
class of 2000 have done your best. And, your families are
justifiably proud of you.
So, let me invoke a wonderful Stanford Commencement
custom. Graduates, in the stands are many of those who
have made your Stanford years possible: parents and
grandparents, spouses and children; siblings, aunts, and
uncles; mentors and friends--whoever played a role in
supporting you, encouraging you, sticking with you. I
invite you to please turn to the stands and join me in
saying: "Thank you!"
Now it is my pleasure to introduce Provost John
Hennessy, who will present awards recognizing outstanding
teaching, research, and service to the university. This
will be one of the last formal occasions at which he will
be referred to as provost. Beginning September 1, he will
be President Hennessy. I am indeed fortunate to have
worked so closely with John; first during his three-year
tenure as dean of the Engineering School, and then,
during his short but definitely productive term as
provost. During that time, I have come to know and
appreciate his many qualities, not the least of which is
his deep commitment to Stanford. He is a gifted scholar
and respected teacher; he possesses a generous spirit and
fine sense of humor. Please join me in welcoming
Stanford's current provost and next president. John....
[Award presentations]
Thank you, Provost Hennessy, and my warmest
congratulations to those who have been honored.
It is now my great privilege to introduce this year's
Commencement speaker, the Secretary-General of the United
Nations, Kofi Annan.
In 1960, I had occasion to visit Mr. Annan's home
town, Kumasi, the capital of the Ashanti region, in
southwestern Ghana. 1960 was a pivotal year in Ghana's
history. Having gained independence from Britain three
years earlier, Ghana that year became a republic and
Kwame Nkrumah, one of the era's most prominent African
leaders, its first president. It is not easy to
reconstruct for you the sense of promise, even
excitement, that pervaded much of Africa in the immediate
post-colonial period. Though even then, as western
constitutional models were adopted, there were the
continuing puzzles over historical allegiances that did
not easily fit modern notions of legitimacy. In Kumasi,
my group was received by the Asantehene, a king whose
Golden Stool continued as the symbol of Ashanti unity.
Mr. Annan himself studied at the University of Science
and Technology in Kumasi and, in 1961, completed his
undergraduate work in economics at Macalester College in
St. Paul, Minnesota. He pursued graduate studies in
economics at the Institut universitaire des hautes
études internationales in Geneva. As a Sloan Fellow at
MIT, Mr. Annan earned a master of science degree in
management.
As a Minnesota college student, he is rumored to have
refused to wear earmuffs until an unfortunate midwinter
outing nearly froze his ears. He later explained the
lesson he had learned: "Never walk into an
environment and assume that you understand it better than
the people who live there"--a sentiment that has
served him well during almost forty years as an
international public servant.
As the seventh Secretary-General, Mr. Annan has been
instrumental in restructuring the United Nations
organization and in formulating approaches to the complex
uncertainties of maintaining peace in a post-Cold War
world. He has done, probably, more than any other person
to define multinational peacekeeping and to respond to
devastating regional and ethnic conflicts.
Mr. Annan's long tenure at the United Nations has also
been marked by a strengthening of its traditional work
for economic development, human rights, the rule of law,
and the values of equality, tolerance, and human dignity.
We particularly welcome him to Stanford for his
support of education as a means for increasing global
understanding. In 1998, Mr. Annan said--and I
quote--"Civilizations have always been enriched, and
not weakened, by the exchange of knowledge and arts, the
freer and more peaceable the better. In the relations
between nations, it is rather the lack of education, and
the dearth of knowledge which is a chief source of
dispute and conflict. Never the opposite."
Upon recommending to me that I invite Mr. Annan to
speak to us today, the senior class presidents said that
they hoped--and I quote--"that Mr. Annan's speech
will carry with it a message of wisdom and optimism about
what it will mean to be a citizen of the world in the
next millennium."
I ask you to join me in extending a warm welcome to
United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan.
[Secretary-General Kofi Annan's Commencement Address]
Thank you, Secretary-General Annan.
[Conferral of degrees]
Graduates, on behalf of all members of the Stanford
community, I congratulate and commend you.
Today, you join a worldwide body of remarkable alumni.
Permit me, for the last time, to conclude by singling out
one of them and relating him to my own life. In the
persons of these two Stanford people who overlapped but
never met, my very short tale spans the entire 20th
century, indeed it spans all of Stanford's history from
1891 to the present. At one level, it is a simple tale
about generosity, but on another level, it is a complex
story about the challenges our world poses, about human
suffering, and about the values of our country and our
university.
At the beginning of World War I, when Belgium, under
German occupation, faced famine, it was Herbert Hoover--a
member of Stanford's first entering class, a celebrated
mining engineer and, later, a less celebrated president
of the United States--who organized, from London, a
private relief agency to deliver food for the beleaguered
Belgians. Stanford faculty, students, and alumni took an
active part. Hoover's wife, Lou Henry Hoover, also a
Stanford alumna and one of the very first women in the
United States to major in geology, made urgent pleas for
the cause. Herbert and Lou Henry Hoover were following
the example of Jane and Leland Stanford who, having lost
their son, established this university to do something
for "other people's children."
The cause of helping "other people's
children" and the fact that after the second World
War, President Truman had placed Herbert Hoover once
again in charge of famine relief in Europe, bring us to
the other person in my story. At the end of World War II,
I was a 7-year-old living in the devastated port city of
Hamburg. There and then, I heard the name Hoover for the
first time as the label attached to American food
supplies that reached our schools. They were known as
"Hoover foods."
Certainly neither I nor anybody present here today
could possibly have predicted in 1945 that the American
wind of freedom, the American Luft der Freiheit, that
liberated Germany along with her victims, would one day,
through a number of way stations, lead me into the
presidency of Hoover's alma mater. Nor could anyone have
imagined that my wife, Regina, and I would one day reside
in the Lou Henry Hoover House, the Hoovers' family home
on campus that Herbert Hoover had given to the university
in 1945, the very year that World War II ended.
Less than half a century after my first exposure to
Hoover's name during the Allied occupation of Germany,
Stanford chose me as its president and thus made it
possible for me, at these occasions, to express the
gratitude of countless children in remembrance of a
Stanford alumnus, who on behalf of a merciful nation
helped alleviate the scars of war and hunger twice in the
course of the 20th century.
When we arrived at Stanford eight years ago, I was as
keen about the future as you are today. It has been a
challenging, intense, and greatly rewarding undertaking
for both, Regina and me. It is my deepest hope that, as
you travel to unforeseeable destinations, your
undertakings will be every bit as challenging and
rewarding.
Remember as you leave here today that Stanford stands
for common purpose, for fortitude, faith, and good cheer.
It stands for perseverance in adversity. Stanford stands
for the wind of freedom. It stands for diversity. It
stands for generosity, for doing, as Jane and Leland
Stanford did, something for "other people's"
sons and daughters. It stands for understanding the
importance of higher education and its support. And,
first and foremost, it stands for a continuous commitment
to the power of reason and the unceasing process of
inquiry.
To quote our first president, David Starr Jordan:
"It is said that Rome was not built in one day, nor
Stanford in a century; but it is being built, quietly,
honestly, steadfastly, stone after stone."
As you yourselves continue to build your lives
"stone after stone" on the foundation in part
laid by and at Stanford, on behalf of your university, I
wish you the very best.SR
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