How to destroy a fragile university

Last week I was one of the victims of an email dump. Loads of documents, claiming rampant corruption at the University of Fort Hare, landed on my electronic desk courtesy of one “Mark Milton”.

Having studied university corruption intensely over the past five years for a forthcoming book, I have learnt something about the methods deployed in campus politics to destroy a fragile university.

The most common is the malicious rumour.

The political uses of rumour are fascinating as a scholarly problem, but terribly frustrating as a management conundrum.

Malicious rumour has three main functions — to sully the reputation of individuals, to destabilise university management and thereby to enable access to resources, broadly defined.

This kind of mongering is normally carried out by aggrieved individuals or factions, on the one hand, and/or those ambitious for positions in the institution on the other.

The usual target is the head of the university, the vice-chancellor, for if there can be a regular turnover in leaders, the institution remains vulnerable to collapse and opportunity.

In fragile universities, such attacks are unrelenting, sometimes violent and on occasion deadly.

One of the interesting characteristics of malicious rumour is that it often contains a combination of blatant lies and marginal truths. It is this potent mix that raises questions and creeping doubt.

Take the accusation in the UFH papers that the VC signed off two amounts of more than R60m to a company responsible for the student village; the charge is the VC only has authority to sign off up to R20m.

The lie can be dismissed: there is an approved delegation of authority (the VC can act) in place for matters approved by council in excess of the R20m threshold.

The truth should be embraced: It is good management practice to get your council chair to co-sign these levels of payment regardless of the delegation in place.

Is there a “violation” of the rules here? No.

Can the delegation practice be improved? Absolutely.

For much of the rest of “Mark Milton’s” email dumpload of documents, there is one lie upon another.

A junior employee approved a payment of R47m: false.

Employee futures are discussed in private offices: No evidence and what is the crime?

Office secretary was dismissed by previous employer and not declared: No evidence provided and probably false; the company no longer exists. On and on.

The accusers hope that the sheer flood of accusations will be enough to paralyse governance and collapse management, thereby keeping the university in a state of chronic instability.

Malicious rumours are relentless in fragile universities.

In a previous round there was the potentially damning accusation that the VC had a relationship with a newly appointed office manager and that her salary scale was irregularly adjusted upwards.

Social media vented on the issue and protest banners amplified the lie.

It took an independent investigation by governmentappointed assessors to prove that both accusations were patently false.

The result? Long periods of instability. The consequences for the accusers? None.

And that is why rumourmongers stay in business — there is no cost to the constant peddling of lies.

Here is a fascinating question. Why do malicious rumours “stick” in fragile universities but not in established institutions? One, because these institutions have fragile administrative and management systems.

Poor record-keeping. Inconsistent procedures. Weak middle-level managers. Ineffectual communication. Low levels of trust.

Vulnerable IT systems (ask how “Mark Milton” could possibly access all this confidential documentation of the UFH).

Two, an over-politicised higher education environment marked by factions and fissures in the council (governance), the executive (management) and every organised group from unions to students to ordinary criminals.

In such an environment, rumours flourish and do great damage.

One of the oldest higher education institutions in SA and the only black university not created by apartheid, the UFH is desperately struggling to once again get back on its feet.

There are new executives dealing boldly with a long legacy of bad management and corrupted governance.

That kind of courage comes at a cost, especially as court dates come due for corrupt persons.

In April, bullets were fired into the homes of senior university executives living in Alice. That, of course, is a more direct method of destabilising a fragile university. Kill them.

The UFH problem is soluble on a few conditions.

That the executives of management and council stand together as a team to combat malicious rumours; if they fray and fight among themselves, there is no solution and the institution will remain trapped in cycles of chronic instability.

That management and council together fix (and be seen to be fixing) legacy problems in university policy, planning and operations.

That senior leaders act with absolute integrity on all things but especially matters of finances and human resources, setting the highest standards of behaviour for themselves.

And finally, that institutional leaders stand strong against rumours and bullets alike, always and in everything they do, asking the simple question: what is in the best interest of the institution?