ANNANDALE-ON-HUDSON, N.Y.

The United States is still reaping the benefits of the 1956-57 session, which the refugees ended with a torchlight parade.
They
were refugees of a failed uprising, most of them
arriving penniless and alone, baffled by the
language, knowing that returning home could mean
jail or death.
But for eight weeks in the winter of 1956-57,
roughly 300 Hungarians fleeing the Soviet tanks
that crushed their startling revolt found a life
raft in a small college 90 miles north of New
York City.
Even if they could scarcely stop chatting in
Hungarian, they learned enough English to manage
the road ahead. Young men and women who served
time in labor camps for being “class enemies”
learned some of the peculiarities of a new
country where police need not always be feared
or bribed. They learned of scholarships that
vaulted them to schools like Princeton and
M.I.T. And, it’s worth noting,
two refugees married each other.
Those eight weeks at
Bard College so many years ago
generated dividends that the United States is
still collecting. Out of that passel of adrift
newcomers emerged doctors, engineers, and
scientists, including two leaders in the
treatment of eye disease, Laszlo Bito and Frank
Holly; a third, Sandor Holly, who developed an
early laser; and a fourth, Charles Legendy,
whose theories contributed to plasma generation
used in making computer chips.
Over the weekend, when 30 of these onetime
rebels got together here for a 50th anniversary
reunion, bear-hugging onetime classmates,
visiting dormitories where they had roomed,
reminiscing about that strange interlude with a
tart Mitteleuropean humor, there was also talk
of some lessons that the United States needs to
remind itself of in a post-9/11 world.
At a time when too many immigrant scholars are
greeted with suspicion and often discouraged,
the former refugees found it worth remembering
that opening America’s unmatched university
classrooms harnesses the zeal and quicksilver
intelligence of the world’s best minds, and that
a proper balance with security must be struck.
“One reason we organized this is to show that
not all immigrants are a burden to the United
States and not all immigrants are to be feared,”
said Mr. Bito.
After declining for several years, the numbers
of foreign students enrolled in higher education
last year rebounded to 565,000, the levels of
the 2001-2 school year. America, it seems, is
more dependent than ever on immigrants for its
scientific skills. With Wall Street exerting an
ever greater pull, one of every four doctors is
foreign-born and half of all patents are issued
to foreigners, according to Allan E. Goodman,
president of the Institute of International
Education.
Still there are repeated cases of professors and
students who are humiliated or deterred by the
visa gantlet. True, the United States happily
gave more than 30,000 Hungarians sanctuary
because they viewed them as freedom fighters in
the same anti-Communist cause that was consuming
this nation at the time. Today, many of the
scholars and students challenged are from Middle
Eastern countries, and some college officials
question whether all are genuine security
threats.
Leon Botstein, Bard’s
president and the son of Nazi-era refugees, told
how a lengthy visa processing prevented his
school from gaining entry this semester for
Youssef Yacoubi, a scholar in Arabic literature
and British citizen of Moroccan descent, even
though he taught at Bard in the fall.
Joanne Moore, a spokeswoman for the State
Department, said, “We generally don’t talk about
individual cases because of the issue of
privacy.”
Mr. Botstein argued that rather than seeking to
keep people out, the nation can use colleges to
nurture habits of academic freedom, open
argument and unbridled research that students
can take back to their closed countries.
“This reunion is a reminder of how important it
is for the American university to be responsive
and open to students coming from abroad and
seeking asylum,” he said.
Americans are obviously ambivalent. Last year
the Bush administration pledged to continue
reducing visa restrictions imposed after the
Sept. 11 attacks, in response to complaints from
universities about the first drop in the number
of foreign students in the United States in more
than three decades.
These days, in sharp contrast with cases where
bureaucrats seem ready to bar the door, stand
programs like one run by the Institute of
International Education, with financing by the
State Department, which provides fellowships for
eight Iranians to study here while teaching
Farsi. “When they go back to Iran they will have
an image of Americans which is totally different
than what Iranians are getting on their
television,” said Margot Steinberg, the
institute’s chief development officer.
Bard’s treatment of the Hungarians a half-century ago was in this vein, offering what Victor Johnson, a public policy official at the Association of International Educators, said was “a sense that welcoming these people said something important about our country.”




