News-Letter

City politics can be vicious. Especially in a place like Baltimore, where some of the most serious politicians are trying to duck some of the most serious issues, opportunism is at its worst. Crime, dilapidated schools, drug violence -- none of these present an obvious photo op. So city politicians often turn elsewhere for money and support, such as the affluent neighborhoods where both abound, and where the word "problem" means something quite different altogether.

They pick a pet issue, swoop in and flex their legislative muscle, all with plenty of cameras rolling and microphones on. They champion the simplest (and least important) issues, which are of course the easiest to tackle. In return, the members of affluent neighborhood associations, like that of Tuscany-Canterbury, marshal electoral support and fill campaign coffers, and a political spectacle is born.

The case of the Phi Kappa Psi house is a textbook example. The second-highest-ranking official in the city has decided to target an otherwise mundane neighborly dispute, to extract what political and financial gain she can out of it, because she thinks nobody can stop her. And normally, that would be the case.

But in this rare instance, City Council President Stephanie Rawlings-Blake has stepped into something potentially explosive. The fraternity she has chosen to attack is attached to what is arguably the most important private institution in the state. Its influence is so vast, in fact, that its president has been called the most powerful man in Baltimore. If he and his staff wield such considerable power, then when students are made the victims of political gamesmanship, we ask that they use it.

When the rumblings of this controversy first began to sound, it was understandable that the University was reserved in its response. Involving itself in every petty community squabble would leave the school with time for little else. But now that one of the City's most powerful politicians has resurrected a draconian noise ordinance, and made members of the Hopkins community her political targets, we expect that something will be done.

The first signs that the University might be waking from its slumber came this week, and none too soon. Administrators began to speak out, albeit somewhat more temperately than we would like, about the proposed legislation. We're especially pleased to see that, among other things, members of the administration are concerned that city officials have revived an ambiguously crafted bill with the intention of enforcing it selectively at the expense of students. The fact that they've decided to meet and organize a response is also encouraging.

But it is by no means enough. Rawlings-Blake has decided to send a letter of support on behalf of the community to the city zoning board ahead of a hearing with Phi Psi on April 17. We think the University ought to send a letter of its own and use its considerable political influence on behalf of its students. The consequence of not doing so would amount to no less than standing idly by while the city makes political bait out of our students, and for no good reason at all. The student body is simply not equipped to spar with the city government.

The University also needs to put thorough consideration into the possibility of building a fraternity row near campus. In 2003 the administration sent a letter to community leaders promising to make headway on the issue, but it seems that was only an attempt to grease the wheels ahead of a city council vote on its plans for Charles Commons. In the years since, community leaders have approached the University with all kinds of proposals, and many are willing to host such a fraternity complex in what would essentially be their own backyard. But the University has balked at each attempt.

An empty lot of undeveloped land, which will likely stay that way for some time, currently stretches the block between 32nd and 33rd streets. How about starting with that? The University has invested considerable amounts of money into improving student life on campus, and it has produced tangible results. Building a fraternity row would likely have a similar, perhaps magnified, effect. And it might protect our students from further manipulation at the hands of political opportunists. That in and of itself should be reason enough.

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