Part I: THE ASSAULT ON LIBERTY CHAPTER 1
THE WATER BUFFALO AFFAIR
0n the night of January 13, 1993, Eden Jacobowitz, a freshman at the University of Pennsylvania, had been writing a paper for an English class when a sorority began celebrating its Founders' Day beneath the windows of his highrise dormitory apartment. The women were singing very loudly, chanting, and stomping. It had prevented him from writing, and it had awakened his roommate. He shouted out the window, "Please keep quiet," and went back to work. Twenty minutes later, the noise yet louder, he shouted out the window, "Shut up, you water buffalo!" The women were singing about going to a party. "If you want a party," he shouted, "there's a zoo a mile from here." The women were black. Within weeks, the administrative judicial inquiry officer (JIO) in charge of Eden's case, Robin Read, decided to prosecute him for violation of Penn's policy on racial harassment. He could accept a "settlement" -- an academic plea bargain -- or he could face a judicial hearing whose possible sanctions included suspension and expulsion.
The JIO's finding that there was "reasonable cause" to believe that Eden had violated Penn's racial harassment policy for having shouted "Shut up, you water buffalo!" to late-night noisemakers under his window was outrageous in terms of normal human interactions at a university. Loud and raucous festivities had occurred beneath the windows of students since the Middle Ages. For centuries, would-be scholars, disturbed or awakened in the still hours, had shouted their various and picturesque disapprovals at the celebrants. "Water buffalo" would have been one of the mildest such epithets ever uttered.
The JIO's decision also was unconscionable given the history of the debates over speech codes at Penn. In 1987, over the strenuous objections of a handful of professors, Sheldon Hackney, president of the University of Pennsylvania, promulgated the university's first modern-era restrictions on speech, in the form of prohibitions on "any behavior, verbal or physical, that stigmatizes or victimizes individuals on the basis of race, ethnic or national origin...and that has the purpose or effect of interfering with an individual's academic or work performance; and/or creates an intimidating or offensive academic, living, or work environment." In September 1989, to explain the policy to incoming students, the administration gave specific examples of what would constitute the serious crime of "harassment": students who drew a poster to advertise a "South of the Border" party, showing a "lazy" Mexican taking a siesta against a wall; a faculty member who referred to blacks as "ex-slaves"; and students who, in protest of "Gay Jeans Day" (when undergraduates were asked to dress in jeans to show solidarity with gay and lesbian students), held a satiric sign proclaiming "Heterosexual Footwear Day."
There were ironies in this presentation of "incidents of harassment." When Louis Farrakhan spoke at Penn in 1988 over the protests of several Jewish organizations, Hackney issued a statement in which he conceded that Farrakhan's statements were "racist, and anti-Semitic, and amount to scapegoating," but concluded: "In an academic community, open expression is the most important value. We can't have free speech only some of the time, for only some people. Either we have it, or we don't. At Penn, we have it."
Indeed, in the very month that his administration was prohibiting social criticism of Gay jeans Day and posters of sleeping Mexicans, Hackney was campaigning, to great national applause, against Senator Jesse Helms's efforts to deny federal funding, by the National Endowment for the Arts, of works such as Andres Serrano's "Piss Christ," a crucifix immersed in the artist's urine. According to Hackney, it was impossible "to cleanse public discourse of offensive material" without producing "an Orwellian nightmare" or the horror of "self-censorship." We were not, in Hackney's words, "Beijing" (an argument put to him earlier against his own speech code), but the "Land of Liberty," where efforts "to limit expression" deemed "offensive" violated the essence and spirit of "democracy" and made social "satire" impossible.
The debate over the harassment policy had heated up at Penn in 1989-90, however, because of a federal court decision. Despite the university's private status, which placed it outside the sway of the Bill of Rights, the administration always had insisted that its speech code could pass constitutional muster. In 1989, however, a federal district court declared the University of Michigan's code, which was less restrictive than Penn's, to be unconstitutional. It embarrassed Hackney when his critics now pointed out that students at Pennsylvania State University or at local community colleges had more rights of free expression than students at the University of Pennsylvania. Accepting the advice of a professor of law to change Penn's overbroad, vague, and imprecise restrictions, and declaring that they were interested in prohibiting merely "words used as weapons," Penn's admimistration promulgated a "narrower" prohibition of "offensive" speech. The new code specified three conditions which, if met simultaneously, would constitute verbal harassment. This was the definition governing Eden Jacobowitz's case:
Any verbal or symbolic behavior that:
- is directed at an identifiable person or persons; and
- insults or demeans the person or persons to whom the behavior is directed, or abuses a power relationship with that person, on the basis of his or her race, color, ethnicity, or national origin, such as (but not limited to) by the use of slurs, epithets, hate words, demeaning jokes, or derogatory stereotypes; and
- is intended by the speaker or actor only to inflict direct injury on the person or persons to whom the behavior is directed, or is sufficiently abusive or demeaning that a reasonable, disinterested observer would conclude that the behavior is so intended; or occurs in a context such that an intent only to inflict direct injury may reasonably be inferred.
It still was a vague speech code, but it now prohibited epithets, jokes,and derogatory stereotypes uttered solely with the intention "to inflict directinjury." At a meeting of the Faculty Senate, a critic of both speech codes andselective enforcement asked Hackney if it would be racial harassment "ifsomeone called a black with white friends an 'Uncle Tom' or an 'Oreo,'" or"if someone called a white person a 'fucking fascist white male pig'"? Hackney answered, "No."
Eden, however, had not called anyone the officially protected "fucking fascist Uncle Tom." According to Eden, his first adviser, Director of Student Life Fran Walker -- whom he had randomly selected from a list of judicial advisors presented to him by the judicial Office -- advised him to accept the settlement now offered by Robin Read:
- Write a letter of apology to the complainants, in which you acknowledge your inappropriate behavior....
- Plan, develop and present a program for residents of High Rise East regarding some aspect of living in a diverse community environment by the end of the Spring 1993 term...under the supervision of...[the] Program Director, High Rise East;
- Be on residential probation for as long as you live in a University residence. Should you be found guilty of violating any Residential Living policy, rule, etc., you will be immediately evicted from all University housing
- Receive a notation on your transcript, stating "Violation of the Code ofConduct and Racial Harassment Policy," to be removed at the beginning ofyour junior year.
The reason that Eden had been singled out for persecution was particularly distressing. There had been fifteen sorority members celebrating under the high-rise's windows, and in the twenty minutes that passed between Eden's "Keep quiet!" and his "Shut up, you water buffalo!" a large number of students had shouted down to the women to leave them in peace. From all accounts, some few students had shouted apparently racial epithets, from "black asses" to "black bitches." Nonetheless, Eden had uttered nothing but "water buffalo."
Five of the fifteen women now believed themselves, as Penn encouraged through its orientations and diversity programining on racism, to be the victims, of "racial harassment." Within short order, the five women, with the university police in tow, were sweeping the dormitory looking for offenders. Only Eden Jacobowitz, it turned out, of the many students who had expressed their late-might annoyance, chose to come forward into the corridor, and he freely identified himself to the university police as the student who had shouted "water buffalo"; other students were identified by third parties. The next day, all students suspected of shouting were summoned one by one to the university police headquarters and asked if they had known the race of the celebrants. Street-smart Penn students, with one guileless exception, all said the equivalent of, "No, it was dark." Eden said, "Of course. It was bright as day out there. But their race had nothing to do with what I said." The university now had its scapegoat.
Although the other students involved in the case initially claimed that Eden had used racial epithets, they soon recanted. As a result, Robin Read stipulated, in the presence of Eden's advisor, that the only "offensive" comments he had made had been 11 water buffalo" and "zoo."
To be considered "racial harassment" under Penn's policy, Eden's words had to be either clear racial epithets or clear derogatory stereotypes, and they had to be uttered "only" with the intention to inflict direct injury. How could "water buffalo" be a racial stereotype, and how could his motive have been other than to express his anger at the noise? When Read first informed Eden that the women had taken the phrase "water buffalo" as a specifically racial term of abuse, he was appalled, and he offered to explain to the young women that he had meant nothing racial whatsoever and to apologize for any rudeness. The JIO replied, "That is not good enough." When Eden said that "water buffalo" had no relation to race, Read said that water buffalo were "primitive, dark animals that lived in Africa." Eden Jacobowitz is a deeply religious Orthodox Jew, the descendant of Holocaust survivors, and a graduate of a leading yeshiva, a religious Jewish school. When he protested vehemently that everything in his being, his upbringing, and his religious commitments forbade racism, Read inquired, "Weren't you having racist thoughts when you said 'water buffalo'?"
Eden refused to accept any settlement. He wrote a courageous letter to Read, given that she would be his prosecutor at a hearing. He accused her of putting her "political standing" above "the rights of students" and issues of "innocence," because "you simply...did not want to deal with the pressures of vindicating someone of racial harassment charges." He reminded her that both he and his roommate originally had been charged with shouting "non-racial comments at some members of the Delta Sigma Theta sorority on January 13," but that only he had been charged with harassment, because "my roommate claimed not to know the race of the people involved while I was totally and categorically indifferent to the race of the people involved." His words, he reiterated, "referred solely and only to the noise level outside my dormitory window." He characterized her interpretation of "water buffalo" as "the farthest meaning from my mind...your words not mine." He had simply objected to "the noise level produced by sporadic stomping and shouting right outside my window at midnight while I was trying to write a paper." If the noisemakers had been "Orthodox Jews," he assured her, "I would have said the same thing." He challenged Read's claim "that it was important to take the women's interpretation of my words and the pain that they inflicted upon them into account," reminding her that "As you know, I have asked from the very first day...to meet with the women to apologize for shouting in response to their noise and to make it clear that my words had no racial meaning." He accused her of ignoring all the evidence of eyewitnesses, raising in his mind "the terrifying possibility that this has become a show trial for a new policy." He understood the possible dangers of a hearing in the current climate, but, he wrote, "Your conclusion of guilt leaves me no choice but to pursue justice, the most precious of human conditions." He would risk anything to clear his name, because "I would die before shouting racist comments at anybody." He copied his letter to President Hackney, Provost Michael Aiken, Vice Provost for University Life Kim Morrisson, Assistant to the President Steve Steinberg, and the general counsel. No one replied. Read eventually wrote back, a month later, disagreeing with his characterization of their discussions and her motives. The entire weight of the university was coming down on a frightened freshman. Shortly after refusing the settlement, Eden called history professor Alan Charles Kors, who became his new advisor.
In preparing for a hearing, Eden secured a long list of black and white eyewitnesses from the high-rise eager to testify that he was the very opposite of a racist, and that on the night in question, he had merely said "water buffalo" (as the JIO already had stipulated). Because it seemed obvious that Eden was responding to noise, not seeking to inflict injury, Kors spoke to a former general counsel of the university, Professor of Law Stephen Burbank. Burbank termed the case "ludicrous" and "open and shut" (because the charges did not even touch the categories of the university's own definition of harassment) and agreed to testify on Eden's behalf.
Encyclopedias and dictionaries revealed the obvious: that "water buffalo" had no racial connotation. The animals were the "Indian Buffalo...domesticated in Asia" (Britannica), "domesticated Asian buffalo" (Merriam Webster's Collegiate Dictionary), "the common Indian buffalo" (Webster's Unabridged New International Dictionary), and limited "to southern Asia" (Grolier's Academic American Encyclopedia).
The issue now was not the speech code itself, but Eden's innocence even assuming the speech code's legitimacy. Many offered discreet help. Dan Hoffman, a Pulitzer Prize-winning literary critic and poet, spoke to the curator of mammals at the Philadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences, who had consulted Walker's Mammals of the World (the Bible, it turns out, of mammalian zoology). Authorities, Hoffman wrote, gave "the range of the 75 million domesticated water buffaloes as from Nepal to Vietnam." The African buffalo, it turned out, was not a water buffalo, but a Cape buffalo, and "confusing the African Cape Buffalo with the Asian water buffalo is clearly an error." A brilliant black ethnographer at Penn, a scholar who had walked the streets of racial tension, confirmed that he "never" had heard the term "water buffalo" used as a racial epithet or derogatory stereotype of blacks. He provided both a written and a taped deposition for Eden. He also referred Kors to several eminent scholars who worked in black linguistics, African-American studies, African-American folklore, and African folklore. None, a phone call to each revealed, ever had heard of the term "water buffalo" used either as a racial epithet or as a derogatory (or any other form of) stereotype of blacks.
A professor of linguistics at Penn sent an inquiry to an international linguistics listserve: "Have you ever heard 'water buffalo' used as a racial epithet?" The replies revealed that in one Asian country it indicated an overeater and in another a fool. A senior professor in African history further confirmed that "water buffalo" had no African or racial connotation whatsoever, and he agreed to testify at any hearing. Acquaintances provided a bevy of innocuous "water buffalo" references: the humorist Dave Barry, in Dave Barry Does Japan, referred to himself several times as a "water buffalo" when he did something clumsy or out of place; the white cavemen of The Flintstones used "water buffalo" as a friendly term; in the classic film His Girl Friday (1939), Cary Grant called Rosalind Russell "a water buffalo."
The whole case took on a new light, however, when the world-renowned Israeli scholar, Dan Ben-Amos, whose field is African folklore, replied. "What would water buffalo have to do with Africans or African-Americans?" he asked. Informed about the facts of the case, Ben-Amos asked if the student were Israeli or spoke modern Hebrew. Learning that Eden's parents were both Israeli and that he had attended a Hebrew-language high school, Ben-Amos explained that "Behema is Hebrew slang for a thoughtless or rowdy person, and, literally, can best be translated as 'water buffalo.' It has absolutely no racial connotation." When Kors asked Jacobowitz, "What's the first thing that comes into your mind if I say 'behema,'" Eden said, "Wow...that's amazing. In my yeshiva, we called each other behema all the time, and the teachers and rabbi would call us that if we misbehaved." He supplied a list of students and teachers from his school who would be glad to testify about it.
Through Ben-Amos, Penn's speech code now occasioned a sustained scholarship on the term behema. Jastrow's Dictionary of the Targumim, The Talmud Babli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature offered, as the first definition of the term, "water-ox." Brown's Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament translated behema as "ox of water." Dahn Ben-Amotzs (no relation) World Dictionary of Hebrew Slang defined the term behemott in the plural of biblical Hebrew as "water-cows and cattle" and, from modern Hebrew, as people of thoughtless behavior.
Michael Meyers, the visionary black leader of the New York Civil Rights Coalition and a member of the National Board of the ACLU, had worked on race relations for twenty-five years -- in particular, black-Jewish tension. Asked about "water buffalo" as a racial epithet, he said (and wrote), "I have never heard the term 'water buffalo' used as a racial epithet." He also agreed to testify to this. Crucially, he suggested that Kors call Deborah Leavy, the executive director of the Pennsylvania ACLU, who agreed that she and Stefan Presser, the general counsel of the Pennsylvania ACLU, would join the case pro bono on Eden's behalf. Leavy added, "My father-in-law calls people behema all the time." Eden now had two legal teams behind him. After hearing the details of the case, Arnold and Sonya Silverstein, two attorneys of Kors's acquaintance, had offered to represent Eden pro bono, providing the first ray of hope that Penn might be forced by the rule of law to honor its own policies in this case. A similar offer came from the lawyer in charge of the Civil Rights Committee of the Eastern Pennsylvania Anti-Defamation League of B'nai B'rith after an exchange of letters with Penn.
At this point, no one in the mainstream media was familiar with the case, but a growing number of professors were responding with outrage. Kenny Williams, a renowned scholar of American literature at Duke University, had replied to an inquiry about "water buffalo" that if Eden had wanted to use a racial epithet, there was, sadly, a vast lexicon from which to choose. "Water buffalo," she noted, was not one of them. "How in the world," she asked, "can anyone find racism or racial intent in that term?" She put it perfectly: "What is perhaps most disturbing about this matter is the assumption...that a word...will mean whatever a particular thought-control officer will deem language to mean....Language will cease to have any communicative value." Williams, who is black, saw another dimension to the case:
On a personal level, what is more disturbing...is the ability of some administrator...to define (in effect) an entire race and to introduce another racial term into language....This is the real racism....The student did nothing wrong, and if the students who were called "water buffalo" didn't like it, they should have merely stated that fact and in the process taken their noise making activities elsewhere! Young people have a marvelous ability to solve their own problems. Issues of racism are too serious to be treated frivolously by administrators.
By the first week of April, Eden and Kors were doing everything possible to settle the case quietly within the university. The provost, Michael Aiken, though bemused by the thought that "water buffalo" could be considered racial harassment, referred the case to the vice-provost for university life, Kim Morrisson, who referred it to Larry Moneta, the associate vice-provost for university life, to whom the judicial system reported. President Hackney referred the case to his assistant, Stephen Steinberg, who e-mailed Kors about "your wholly appropriate concerns" about Read's decision, emphasizing that "If after talking with Larry [Moneta], you feel things are not satisfactorily resolved, please let me know, and I'd be happy to talk further...thanks for your patience." On April 13, another assistant to Sheldon Hackney, explaining that the news had broken of Hackney's impending nomination as chairman of the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH), and apologizing for the delay in communication that this had caused, wrote: "Sheldon had also been occupied with the latest breaking news, although I have briefed him on our latest conversation....He did ask me to convey his appreciation for your concern about the University's potential to become embroiled in a controversy that appears to offer little gain for anyone." She added, "I would also like to thank you most sincerely for the deep concern and willingness to act upon it that you have demonstrated throughout Eden's case....Eden and others will remember you with gratitude and respect." The next day, however, Moneta telephoned Kors not about "the possibility of progress," but in order to quote from the second college edition of the American Heritage Dictionary, which listed "Asia and Africa" as places where water buffalo rmight be found. That evening, Steinberg called and said that guilt or innocence was for a hearing to decide. With racial anger on one side of the balance and, on the other, one frightened freshman and one eccentric professor, the administration had now decided to prosecute Eden for shouting "water buffalo."
Two months later, testifying before the U.S. Senate during his confirmation hearings for the chairmanship of the NEH, Sheldon Hackney proclaimed himself an enemy of speech codes: They were "counterproductive," he told Senator Harris Wofford of Pennsylvania. One could not get to civility by the wrong means, which he now described as "a speech code backed up by penalties." Pressed about Penn's own code, Hackney said that, although he now opposed such a code, it was nonetheless meant only to cover face-to-face confrontations. Senator Edward Kennedy asked him directly if under Penn's code the water buffalo case, by then dismissed, should have occurred. Hackney, discussing the case for the first time under oath, replied:
No. I think that this was a misapplication of that policy in the circumstances, and, I think, a great mistake to try to pursue it, for several reasons. One, it was not really a face-to-face encounter. The other is a matter of equity, if you will. Eden Jacobowitz was only one of a group of people engaged in this activity, and maybe the least culpable one.
Senator Kennedy asked Hackney to give the committee the "facts" of the water buffalo case. On the issue of why Jacobowitz had been singled out, the nominee was quite eloquent:
The only student who would admit to saying anything was Eden Jacobowitz, who said that he had used the term "water buffalo," and had yelled at the sorority sisters, who were singing, "If you want to have a party there is a zoo nearby." There in fact is a zoo within about a mile of the university...Eden Jacobowitz is an Israeli...and there is a Hebrew term, beheyma, which is frequently used among people; it is a mild reproach, but used quite commonly. It sort of means, Oh, you rude person....There is no other explanation that one can think of.
With Penn determined to continue with the prosecution, Eden and Kors called Robin Read and laid out to the JIO their entire defense. No date had been set for a hearing, and Read still had the opportunity to drop the charges in the face of this new evidence. She was asked, "Will you examine it, talk to the witnesses, and see if it wouldn't be a mistake to continue the prosecution?" "Yes," she promised. Two weeks later, Eden was informed that the judicial Office wished to schedule a hearing, and he discovered that Read had contacted not one of his new witnesses.
The judicial administrator at Penn was John Brobeck, a retired professor of medicine, whose position was described by the Judicial System Charter as wholly "independent" and existing to secure the end of "substantive justice." He set a hearing for Monday, April 26, a date that would force Kors, to cancel a major scholarly meeting. Brobeck, however, was explicit and emphatic: "The hearing will be held on April 26, period. If you can make it, wonderful. If you can't, then Eden will have to be there without his advisor. There is no possible change of the April 26 date." When Hackney was advised that Eden now would take his case to the deeper court of public opinion, he replied, "Do what you have to do."
What Eden "had to do," simply put, was to prevent Penn's administration from continuing the travesty, and to secure some modicum of equal justice. At Penn, however, there was no equality before the law. One incident caught the double standard in all of its hypocrisy. In 1990, several black members of a racially integrated campus fraternity had tried to teach a lesson to a white student in another fraternity, a student named Sheffield, whom they believed to be a bigot. By mistake, they kidnapped a student named O'Flanagan. In Municipal Court that spring the following charges and underlying facts were admitted, uncontested, in connection with the accused kidnappers' plea bargains:
[The kidnappers] played a tape of a Malcolm X speech containing references to violence directed at whites....O'Flanagan believed that no one would be able to hear any possible cries for help....[They] drove [him] to a secluded playground/park area....They encircled [him], whispering to him again the phrase "Sheffield Deathfield!"...They also taunted him by referring to lynchings in the South, in Alabama. [He] remained handcuffed to the metal structure [in an inner-city playground] for a period of time...barefoot and only minimally clothed, and the night was cold and rainy...They then conducted a mock "trial" which consisted in part of [his] being subjected to physical discomfort, emotional distress, and repeated and intense verbal abuse....[They] talked about lynchings...and they shouted obscenities and abusive language at him. Among the phrases used were statements such as (a) "Fuck you!"; (b) "racist"; (c) "You're a neo-Nazi racist fuck!"...[They] then shoved [him] back in the car, recuffed him and drove him to the intersection of 34th and Chestnut Streets. During this 10 to 15 minute ride, they again played the same Malcolm X tape. At the intersection, they pulled [him] from the car, blindfolded. [He] believed he was being left in the middle of a highway or a busy street.
Now, if that was not racial harassment, it was hard to see what might be, yet Penn simply suspended the integrated fraternity from having an active chapter on the campus. No individual punishment. No sensitivity seminars. No stamped transcripts. Reverse the races, and the date of the kidnapping would have become an annual day of shame at Penn.
Eden, in fact, seemed a pawn in a larger game of campus racial politics. In that spring of 1993, Penn was being sued over the number of "Mayor's Scholarships" it awarded. These provided a significant number of Philadelphia high school graduates -- disproportionately black -- with the means to attend the university -- and Hackney was accused of racism. It was the tenth year of his presidency, and he obsessed throughout on racial relations. If some half-wit -- whether racist or provocateur -- scribbled an epithet on a stairwell, the campus would gratify the miscreant by acting as if a fascist night had descended. During freshmen orientations, students were taught at "diversity education" seminars to perceive the campus as a hotbed of racism.
Hackney was a captive of the very perception of endemic racism that Penn had encouraged and of the expectation that had been created that all "disadvantaged" groups had the right not to be "offended." Penn's policies invited students, including the women who had disturbed Eden, to react to ordinary abrasions and, indeed, to disagreeable opinions, as intolerable racism. Hackney's attempt to guide his administration across the dangerous terrain created by those policies severely limited his ability to respond soberly to such reactions. Nothing illustrated this better than the case of Gregory Pavlik, which preceded, and, in the end, energized the water buffalo affair.
The independent undergraduate campus newspaper, the Daily Pennsylvanian (DP), had about fourteen opinion colummists, and it always was hard-pressed to find even one conservative to mix among them. It was not easy being the token DP conservative, who always elicited a flood of accusations of racism, sexism, homophobia, ignorance, and malice, often from administrators as well as from students. For the spring semester of 1993, the DP had found its lone conservative columnist in a transfer student from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, Greg Pavlik, softspoken and retiring in private, but a blunt and outspoken "paleoconservative" in his columns.
Pavlik, in fact, was much more critical of neoconservatives than of the Left. The real Right, for Pavlik, opposed centralized big government, nondefensive wars, and foreign intervention. Pavlik indeed exposed most students to an unfamiliar political point of view. In a February column, "The Price of Intervention," he described neoconservatives as "traitors," and he warned against the New World Order, "the globalists' desire for empire," the loss of sovereignty in foreign affairs to the UN, and young Americans returning "in body bags" during our interventions from Korea to the Balkans. Whatever neoconservatives there might have been at Penn read his columns in peace. Others read some of his opinions with great anger.
Two columns, in particular, elicited a firestorm. In "Rethinking the King Holiday," Pavlik described the civil rights movement as an assault against property and individual liberty, and he attacked King's political and personal ethics, seeing the latter, in particular, as a betrayal of the obligation of Christian clerics to "set a moral standard as consecrated ministers of God." In "Not as Clear as Black and White," Pavlik attacked what he saw as Penn's double standard on matters of race. He claimed that the Onyx Society, an exclusively black honors organization, had hazed its blindfolded initiates in the residential Quadrangle at 2:30