by Craig A. Butler
Daily Lobo Columnist
As this semester draws to a close, the end of an age is coming to UNM; after 30 years of teaching, Richard Berthold is leaving the University.
After his monumentally regrettable comments on Sept. 11 of last year, it was only a matter of time before Berthold left UNM. Some, like Rep. William Fuller, even called for his termination. In the patriotic fervor of the time, a harsh national spotlight pinned him down for examination before the court of public opinion.
Despite Berthold's long history of being a political troublemaker with a wisecrack up his sleeve for every occasion, his Sept. 11 comment came as a devastating shock to the community. People who had never taken a class from him were suddenly demanding his head. That's got to be a tough position to be in.
Of course, the wayward profesor was quick to rescind his remarks and express his deep regrets for having uttered such blasphemy. The horrors of Sept. 11 were too real and too omnipresent to joke about. That such a thing could be uttered by a supposedly learned professor to his students was unbelievable.
Get content from The Daily Lobo delivered to your inbox
Berthold always did have a problem with drawing too many parallels between modern politics and the world of ancient Rome he knows so well. He allowed his personal politics to come into his daily lectures and in doing so, sowed the seeds of his own destruction. If asked about his own situation, he might see himself as a modern-day Ovid, driven into exile for unpopular political leanings.
But in all the furor over Berthold's inflamatory comments, few seem to have questioned his skill as an instructor or his knowledge of the subjects he teaches. As a professor of Roman history, Berthold has no equal at UNM. He knows the history of the classical world better than anyone. No one is suggesting that he is not capable of continuing his work, only that he once chose the wrong way to express himself.
Before the infamous Sept. 11 comment, Berthold was always jovial and controversial in classes. Wildly bizarre commentary about the modern political world would fly from his lips during discussions about the gravest moments in Roman history. In a way, this added political sharpness added to the excitement of attending his class.
Anyone who has ever taken a history class can tesitfy that oftentimes history lectures are difficult to stay awake through. In copies of the Lobo found littering the floor after history classes, the crossword puzzles have all been meticulously completed.
Berthold's contemporary comments may have started as a way of drawing helpful analogies. In many ways the cutthroat world of Roman politics mirrors our own and the backstabbing tactics of one era are all too easily duplicated in another. If making references to well-known modern events helps convey the sense or import of a historical event, then pointing out the similarity may be a legitimate teaching tool.
After his comments on Sept. 11, the tone of Berthold's classes changed dramatically. The razor-edge wit was gone, replaced by a nervous caution. The bite that had previously helped make his classes interesting was gone, replaced by a meager and uninteresting bark.
Berthold's retirement should not be seen as punishment inflicted upon an infidel or as an admission of unworthiness. Instead, it is the end of the long and visible career of a history professor who had grown too comfortable in his habit of speaking every random thought that crossed his mind.
It feels appropriate that Berthold's retirement coincides with my own graduation. As a columnist at the Lobo for two and a half years, I often sought to spark debate by putting forth opinions and thoughts that angered many. That is the very soul of lively and meaningful debate. A university in which all opinions were bland would be a poor excuse for a learning institution.
It is in the creative fires of passionate disagreement that the most enduring lessons are learned. If there is anything I would wish for the University after I leave it, it would be that its broiling crucible of differing viewpoints should never diminish in intensity or vigor. As long as there is always room for contention here, great minds will find in it a place to grow.
