by Patrick White

Unless your head’s been in a bunny hole, you probably noticed that UVic is “Celebrating 100 Years of Education.” But what the glossy posters and feel-good celebrations won’t reveal are the scandals, prejudices and events worthy of ridicule from this university’s past.

What follows is a brief summary of a few of these events acquired from conversations with unofficial campus historian Peter Smith, a read of his book on UVic A Multitude of the Wise, and a quick poke around the library’s dusty archives.

The first incarnation of UVic was the McGill University College of British Columbia, conceived in 1902 and born in autumn the next year. As a partnership between McGill University and Victoria High School, it was an entirely unimpressive institution despite the long-winded name, attracting just seven students. Administrators with the college decided in 1907 to begin offering second-year courses to bump up enrolment, and their efforts were rewarded when two more students enrolled in second-year courses, bumping total enrolment up by a hefty 20 per cent.

In 1908, the provincial government established the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, much to the disappointment of Victorian backers of the college. When UBC opened in 1915, the little college died. Aspirants to higher education in Victoria were forced to swallow their pride and study at the institution responsible for their beloved college’s demise.

Five years later, the newly-named Victoria College made another go at post-secondary education and by 1927 enrolment was so high that the College moved into the more substantive Craigdarroch Castle.

Craigdarroch Castle was constructed for the coal baron Robert Dunsmuir and his family. Dunsmuir was famous for the poor and unsafe working conditions under which his employees worked. In some ways his legacy lived on into the College-era of his castle. Students listened to lectures sitting in fireplaces and on mantelpieces. By 1946 the castle, which had a capacity of around 150 students, was a sardine tin for more than 600 students, many of whom were returning veterans.

Public outrage was imminent, and on October 8, 1946 the building was condemned by the city’s fire chief. In the school’s annual, Victoria College principal Dr. J. M. Ewing summed up the threat: “At least 50 students would lose their lives in the event of fire…The staff members would undoubtedly stay to try and get the young people out and we’d all perish–God help us!”

As a precursor to Victoria’s now-infamous student activism, college students marched in military fashion through the downtown streets to the Legislature, waving placards and blowing bagpipes.

Unlike so many later marches, this one accomplished something. The government was forced into action, and by mid-November, Victoria College had moved into the Provincial Normal School Building (today Camosun College’s Lansdowne campus).

The war years brought about many disturbances. None were greater than the internment of Japanese-Canadians, many of whom were forced to leave behind classmates at Victoria College. Then College Principal Percy Elliot expressed little remorse with his spring address to students: “Friendship, said Cicero, can exist only between men whose actions and lives leave no question as to their honour, purity, equity and liberality.”

Institutional prejudice of this sort was hardly out of the ordinary at the time, a fact deplored by first-year student Hing Hope in a 1938 letter to the editor of the college annual. Sixty-five years later, UVic remains a troubled institution in terms of equity. Females make up only 17 per cent of total faculty, and a recent report entitled Equity and Fairness at The University of Victoria stated, “There is a host of unanswered questions respecting accountability within the University with respect to fairness and equity…Central offices such as the Office of the Prevention of Discrimination and Harassment and the Office of Equity Issues absolve departmental administrators of responsibility for preventing or resolving complaints of harassment and discrimination.”

By 1959, Victoria College had grown to the point where it had to move once again–this time to its present Gordon Head location, which at the time was a military base. Much discussion followed about what the new university’s name should be–other choices besides the conservative University of Victoria was the racy “Juan de Fuca U,” which in the end was avoided because of its potential for mispronunciation.

The early years of UVic’s Gordon Head campus were without a doubt the institution’s most tumultuous. In January 1966, an assistant professor of English began a five-year period of mass discontent when he alleged “disregard for academic freedom and contempt for democratic procedures” on the part of the Department of English. When three popular professors were denied contract renewals, these beliefs were adopted by the student population. A 25-hour student occupation of President Taylor’s office ensued. He resigned not long after.

Student outrage with the administration was only getting started. Bruce Partridge took over as university president in 1968 on the same day Richard Nixon was elected president of the United States. Both presidents would eventually end their terms under clouds of contempt.

Partridge came highly touted in a press release: “His qualifications are so outstanding that the final choice was relatively easy. He has an ideal blend of ability, youth and wide experience.” Less than three years later, Partridge resigned following non-confidence vote of the faculty, a motion of censure by the Canadian Association of University Teachers and widespread campus discontent with his leadership.

Partridge was initially scorned for coming into office as an American in a time of blossoming Canadian nationalism. Secretive personnel decisions that followed led students and faculty to assume, with whatever justice, that Partridge was attempting to purge UVic of popular and progressive young professors.

Amidst campus-wide gossip, a “clearinghouse for rumours” was established by Nels Granewall of the Financial Aid Office so that students could confirm or deny the chatter around campus. Granewall was soon designated by administration as Minister of Truth at Rumour Central.

Partridge’s days became numbered when the January 28, 1971 issue of the Martlet revealed that the Blackstone School of Law, where Partridge obtained his law degree, was included in a magazine article carried by UVic’s Counselling Office on “phony degree mills.” Partridge had obtained his degree by correspondence, but talk of his “mail-order degree” swirled beyond control. His resignation came on November 15, 1971.

To make matters worse, the Board of Governors appointed new president Hugh Farquhar without any kind of consultation process raising the considerable ire of the UVic Faculty Association. Farquhar would soldier on as president despite a lack of charisma and imagination.

With Farquhar’s resignation in 1974, scandal-ridden UVic had gone through seven presidents in a space of 12 years.

From ’74 up to the present, administrative bungles seem relatively thin, although the recent series of tuition increases could create a rupture between UVic as we know it today and the university’s past.

Throughout UVic’s history, the institution has remained relatively open to students from all walks of life. One passage in Peter Smith’s A Multitude of the Wise referring to the period from 1921-1946 is indicative of the institution’s openness: “A comparison of the class lists with the city directory will reveal that the student population was not drawn from the social or economic elite…The children of the prominent or powerful were far outnumbered by the middle-class sons and daughters of teachers, civil servants, merchants, and tradespeople of various kinds.”

But UVic could undo this reputation with tuition hikes of more than 60 per cent over the last two years. Recent Statistics Canada numbers reveal that 80 per cent of students whose families earn $80,000 per year or more attend university, while the participation rate for students whose family income is less than $55,000 per year falls to 55 per cent.

But then administrative gaffs are as much a part of this institution’s shiny, happy history as the rowdy protests they provoke.