Paradox of Stanford's Hoover Institute: Freedom from Communism, but freedom for whom?

A few days ago, we went to San Francisco, ordinarily a six-hour drive from Los Angeles. However, it took us more than eight hours because a fire had broken out on one of the mountains along the highway, forcing us to take another route, part of which ran along the seashore.

It was my second visit to San Francisco, and a very short one. Earlier I visited San Francisco about two years ago during by previous US visit. We called on our friends for a weekend lunch, and they particularly suggested that we see Stanford University.

I had heard of Stanford before, of course, but my knowledge of one of the world's leading seats of learning was not even skin-deep. One of our hosts told us that it had a beautiful campus. Indeed, it does.

We saw newly married couples in their formal wedding attire arriving to have themselves photographed. There was a beautiful garden with a fountain in the middle, where children were happily playing. After taking a few photographs of the lovely campus, we came across six sculptures by the well-known 19th-century French sculptor Auguste Rodin.

The sculptures form a memorial honoring six ordinary heroes, or "burghers," of the Hundred Years' War (1337–1453) between England and France. They are depicted at the moment of their departure from the city of Calais, the closest French town across the English Channel. I found the work particularly interesting because, as the billboard next to it explained, for Rodin it was "an opportunity to celebrate the idea that heroic deeds may be performed by ordinary people."

After photographing the impressive sculptures, we moved on to a place we were told housed one of the most beautiful churches on the campus. We were disappointed to find it closed for repairs until the end of this year.

As we strolled around, we noticed a group of people queuing at the entrance to the tallest structure on campus, the 87-metre-high Hoover Tower. We bought tickets, took the elevator up, and had a glimpse of the Stanford campus spread out around the tower.

When we came down, we discovered two rooms displaying exhibits that seemed to explain the thinking behind the founding of the Hoover Institution, of which the tower is a part, on the Stanford campus.

The exhibits interested me even more than the campus itself.

A huge billboard greets visitors as they enter one of the rooms: "The Road to Freedom."

And what was this "road to freedom"? It was not free exchange of thought, a primary motto of liberal ideology, but, as one of the exhibits prominently stated, "Freedom From Communism" and "Economic Freedom," presented as two vital components of a free society.

Its founder, Herbert Hoover, said one of the opening displays, "believed that a free society was defined by individual liberty, limited government, and private enterprise." It added: "For most of the twentieth century, the founder and Hoover Institution scholars warned that communist tyranny posed an existential threat to the free world."

Another panel said:

"Today, the eminent Fellows of the Hoover Institution continue its mission to improve the human condition by advancing ideas that promote freedom through economic opportunity and prosperity, while securing and safeguarding peace for America and the world. The Hoover Library & Archives continues to collect, preserve, and make available the most important material on war, revolution, peace, and human freedom."

Having lived through one of the most crucial phases of the former Soviet Union, from 1986 to 1993—the period during which that huge country underwent enormous political and economic transformation and ultimately collapsed—I could not disagree with much of the criticism of the Soviet system. There was little freedom of expression, let alone political freedom. Dissent was suppressed, and the free market was largely confined to individual farmers selling their produce in specially designated spaces called rynoks.

Yet I wondered why none of the displays even once mentioned the suppression of dissent within the United States, particularly during the McCarthy period of the early 1950s; the discrimination against Black Americans and other people of color; or the large number of homeless people who can be found in cities large and small.

I am not talking about the slave trade here. But surely, was the horrendous war in Vietnam a "fight" for freedom? Is U.S. support for oppressive regimes in the Islamic world guided by the principle of freedom? And is the U.S. "allowing" India to buy oil from Russia "temporarily" amid the war with Iran—or imposing huge tariffs on imported goods—part of the same concept of economic freedom?

And what about the enormous budget devoted to maintaining the powerful military-industrial complex, or the continued support for Israel amid its devastating assault on Palestinian territories?

Be that as it may, the Hoover exhibits primarily told the stories of those who fought against, or escaped from, the Soviet bloc.

One display described how more than 230,000 Polish Jews survived the Second World War and the Holocaust by seeking refuge in the Soviet Union, only to be "mass deported" by the Soviets to forced-labor camps in the Russian interior, scattered across the vast Siberian territories, sub-Arctic regions in the north, and the desert-steppe zone of Central Asia.

They endured grueling transportation, forced labor, chronic hunger, disease, and extreme weather.

Another display told the story of the family of Judyta Potasz, who fled Poland in 1939. After losing both parents to the harsh conditions, 15-year-old Judyta placed herself and her siblings in a Polish orphanage in Tashkent, in modern Uzbekistan. The orphans were allowed to leave the Soviet Union only in 1942, as part of the evacuation of the Polish Army to Tehran. They finally reached safety in British Mandatory Palestine in 1943.

"These Polish orphans became known as the Tehran Children," the display said, adding: "After arriving in Palestine, Judyta testified about the harrowing experiences her family endured. Her testimony is among many preserved in the Palestinian Protocols and held today at the Hoover Institution."

Another exhibit described how, under the Ba'athist regime of Saddam Hussein in Iraq, repression was a lived reality—it "reached into homes, classrooms, theaters, and even nurseries."

Survivors, the display said, revealed "a landscape of systematic terror designed to extinguish dissent through imprisonment, torture, and execution."

It told the story of Nahida al-Rammah, a pioneer of modern Iraqi theater who survived several assassination attempts by Ba'athist security forces, forcing her to flee the country. She was described as a "foundational figure in cinema and theatre," starring in productions such as The Thirsty Ones, The Pain Tree, and The Neighbours.

Also on display were two "champions" of economic freedom affiliated with the Hoover Institution: economists Friedrich Hayek (1899–1992) and Milton Friedman (1912–2006). Both were Nobel laureates in economics.

One of the displays said:

"When Vladimir Lenin wrote in 1914 that he wished to see the imperialist war transformed into a civil war, it was only a foretaste of the violence Communism would wreak on Russia and later on Eastern Europe and other regions of the world. This violence affected all segments of society, and stories of escape from communist mass repressions united all classes, from the very first days of Bolshevik power to the last hours of the Communist regimes in Eastern Europe."

The exhibits also offered stories highlighting the experiences of four former staff members of the Hoover Institution who had escaped the "oppressive" Soviet bloc.

One of them was Witold Sworakowski, who joined the Polish foreign service while pursuing a doctorate in political science. After the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939, as Poland fell under Nazi and Soviet occupation, he worked as a diplomat for the Polish government-in-exile. The diplomatic recognition of the Polish Communist government as part of the Soviet bloc left him stateless.

The exhibit underlined:

"He found his freedom through a Rockefeller Fellowship which brought him to Hoover in 1947. Initially serving as curator of the Polish collection, his responsibilities expanded to cover all European collections. As collector, archivist, and administrator, Sworakowski played a central role in shaping the Hoover Institution before he retired in 1969."

Then there was the story of Hilja Kukk, a scholar who fled Soviet-occupied Estonia in 1944. After spending time in a postwar refugee camp in Germany, she moved to the United States and completed her studies at the University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA). She later "served as a Slavic reference librarian at Hoover for more than two decades and was an expert resource for Baltic scholars."

Also on display was James B. Donovan, the mastermind behind many difficult Cold War-era spy and prisoner exchanges. He visited Cuba fifteen times over two years, building trust and mutual respect that eventually led to the release of thousands of prisoners from Cuba.

Amid the exhibits, there was a display of opinions written on yellow, blue, and pink slips and pasted onto a large board. One of them seemed to expose a contradiction at the heart of Hoover’s argument about “freedom.” Let me quote it: “Liberty & Justice for All? Even for me, a 62-year-old Black woman?” It struck me: Not one exhibit on display told the story of a Black American, not to talk of American Indians, often called Red Indians.

But does the presence of the Hoover Institution mean that Stanford University itself should be considered anti-left?

I was told that, like many elite private universities in the United States, Stanford's campus culture, student body, and faculty are broadly perceived as leaning center-left or progressive, even though the university hosts prominent conservative institutions such as the Hoover Institution. The campus has also witnessed active progressive and left-wing student demonstrations, including protests and walkouts over geopolitical conflicts and university investments.

Founded in 1885 by Leland Stanford, a former governor of California and U.S. senator, and his wife, Jane Lathrop Stanford, it was established as a memorial to their only child, Leland Stanford Jr. After young Leland died of typhoid fever in 1884 at the age of 15, his parents determined that "the children of California shall be our children."

Legally named Leland Stanford Junior University, the university opened on October 1, 1891. It was built on the Stanford family's Palo Alto stock farm, an 8,180-acre property.

The Stanfords and founding president David Starr Jordan intended their new university to be nonsectarian, coeducational, and affordable. They wanted it to produce "cultured and useful graduates" while combining liberal arts education with training in science and engineering.