COMMENCEMENT ADDRESS
University of Chicago Law School
June 8, 2001, Chicago, ILL
By Abner J. Mikva

Fifty years ago, almost to the day, I sat where you are sitting to receive my law degree from the University of Chicago Law School. Rockefeller Chapel never looked as good as it did that day to me or this day to you. We had a commencement speaker. It pains me to say that I can't remember his name. Nor can I remember a word that he said. It's with those dismal expectations that I speak.

This blessed place has equipped you with a superb legal education. You are capable of competing with anyone anywhere and doing wondrous things in or out of the profession. The one ingredient that you have to provide on your own is courage -- the courage to do the hard and complicated things that will satisfy you -- the courage to make the most use of those talents that you have.

President Reagan and President Clinton loved to point to people in the gallery, when they were delivering their State of the Union addresses, to illustrate a point or identify with examples of worthy citizenship. Usually, they pointed to courageous policemen or firemen who had rescued a child or servicemen who had performed above the call of duty. I want to talk about a different kind of courage, an intellectual courage, where the action is not popular. So, pretend with me that there is a gallery here in Rockefeller, and let me tell you about who I see sitting there as examples of the kind of courage that I mean.

There sits George Anastaplo, who graduated first in my class of 1951. He was the iconoclast of our class, from not showing up for graduation to dressing super casual when that was not the style. The example of courage that I want to cite is his refusal to tell the Character and Fitness committee of the Bar whether or not he was a Communist, a label which fit him about the way it would fit Dean Epstein, But, it was at the height of the McCarthy era and the bar leaders were most suspicious of the beliefs of graduates from such well-known left wing law schools as the University of Chicago. George Anastaplo took his stance because he believed it was the right thing to do, that he had to resist what he perceived as an interference with his freedom of belief and association. And he took that position at the expense of not ever being admitted to the bar. He took it against the advice of his teachers, his dean, his classmates, and he paid a high price for it.

There sits a teenager from a small town in Illinois. Last month, she graduated as the valedictorian of her public high school class. She thought it was wrong to have prayers said at her graduation ceremony and successfully brought a law suit to prevent the prayers from being voiced. She gave up her right to deliver the valedictory speech to her class. She was the recipient of much criticism from classmates, teachers and friends, including a goodly number of boos when her name was read off at graduation. She displayed great courage to implement principles that she believes are important for society to maintain.

It can be argued that both of my shining examples were very young when they made their tough decisions: so young that they may not have even realized what courage it took to make them, and what the consequences of such decisions would be. Look once more with me to the hypothetical gallery and see a lawyer-politician at the turn of the century. He is Governor John Peter Altgeld of Illinois, and over 50 years old. He is already suspect of having foreign views because he was born abroad, he is a Chicago Democrat, and he is a liberal for his times.. He has avoided most of the pitfalls and pratfalls of the fight against the anarchists that had been waged in Chicago, except that there are three anarchists on death row in a state prison. They have petitioned for a pardon. Governor Altgeld, is told by all his advisers that it is bad policy, bad politics, and bad precedent to even consider a pardon. But John Peter Altgeld thinks that the anarchists were not given a fair trial. He grants the pardons. And his advisers prove right. After the pardons, Altgeld is not only defeated in his reelection bid, he is not even allowed to make the customary farewell speech as governor. "Illinois has had enough of that anarchist" said his successor. Vachel Lindsay honored Altgeld as the Eagle Forgotten, but his constituents not only forgot him, they never forgave him for putting principle above popularity.

Well, that's the gallery. It is unlikely that any of them would have been invited to sit in the gallery at the State of the Union, because their kind of courage is never popular with peers. But, as lawyers, you have the special capacity and opportunity -- and responsibility -- to exercise that quality. It is one of the unique ways that lawyers can give back to their society a quid pro quo for what they have been given. But you should know that when lawyers do exercise that kind of courage, it is especially condemned because the presumption is that the lawyer is hustling in some form or other. (Jury story.)

No, you are not likely to get kudos for your courage. You are not likely to get big fees You probably won't even get any poems. (There aren't many Vachel Lindsays around these days.) The only reason for making such decisions is because you think they are important and you think that they are right. If you do, you will be worthy of the great expectations that are held for you. And you may make it harder for my apocryphal lady juror to pick on the lawyers.

What a beautiful chapel. What a beautiful day. Congratulations on commencing a great and meaningful career.