Dame Louise Richardson is president of Carnegie Corporation of New York, former vice-chancellor of the University of Oxford in England and of the University of St. Andrews in Scotland, former executive dean of the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study at Harvard University, and former professor of government at Harvard.

I am sure that I am not the only Harvard graduate who, finally, feels a sense of pride in their alma mater for standing up to the Trump administration’s demands to eviscerate the autonomy of the institution. This pride is, of course, tinged with concern for the well-being of the university that has contributed so much to the country, and to me personally.

I arrived at Harvard in 1981 as an impecunious Irish graduate student on a scholarship that was larger than my father’s salary, a salary that supported his wife, mother, and seven children. The career I have had since was made possible by those exhilarating, demanding, stimulating years studying with some of the great intellectuals of 20th-century American life.

We have, of course, seen governments move against universities in an effort to quell critical voices. The modern examples of Hungary and Turkey are regularly invoked. I served on the board of the Central European University in Budapest when we were forced by the Orban government to move the university out of the country, so I am familiar with the playbook.

While acknowledging that any other response would, no doubt, have landed them in the gulag, the craven statement issued by the leaders of all the Russian universities after the invasion of Ukraine, declaring their support for the war and their president, is a frightening example of what happens when universities are controlled by government.

As vice-chancellor, or in American terms, president, I led the University of St. Andrews at a time when the Scottish government tried to dictate our position on independence from the United Kingdom. I led the University of Oxford during the Brexit referendum when the prime minister, an alum, and the cabinet, mainly alums, sought our support for what many of us believed was a colossal act of self-harm.

Oxford, in fact, has a long history of governments trying to control the university. In the words of emeritus Oxford professor Laurence Brockliss, a historian writing of the 16th and 17th centuries: “It was impossible … for a revolution in church or state to be effected without first establishing the loyalty of the universities.” The means of doing so was a “visitation.” There were four visitations by the monarchy in the 16th century, then three by Parliament under the Commonwealth in the 17th century, and finally one more by the restored Charles II in the 1660s.

The goal of the visitations was to weed out opponents of the government of the day and impose loyal persons of the right caliber. The visitation of 1535 focused on getting rid of canon law and the scholastic tradition. The visitors reportedly rejoiced in seeing the front quad of New College covered in the pages of medieval texts, which were carted off for use as scarecrows by a Buckinghamshire farmer. Another visitation was sent to purge Catholics.

In the first visitation under the Commonwealth, 10 of the 12 most senior professors, 14 of 18 heads of college, all the canons of Christ Church, and the majority of the college fellows were replaced. The third Commonwealth visitation abolished the use of caps, gowns, and hoods as academic dress and sought to strip the powers of the faculty and the colleges in favor of a strong central executive of godly and prudent men. Oliver Cromwell personally appointed the vice-chancellor.

Then, when the monarchy was restored, a new visitation undid all the actions of the previous 13 years. Caps and gowns persist!

All of this goes to show that governments have long sought to bring universities to heel. They have often been successful in the short term, and universities have suffered greatly as a result. But in the longer term, universities survive. The universities I have led — one more than 600 years old, one about 900 years old — are older than most countries, most businesses, and most other organizations.

Universities have lasted as long as they have because of the enduring value of what they do. They are engines of the economy and drivers of social mobility. They are the very foundation of our democracy. They are guardians of our culture, and above all, they are generators of new ideas. These ideas form the basis for medical, technological, and artistic innovations that have done so much to enrich all our lives.

Even those of us who love universities should acknowledge that in recent years, many of our universities have failed to live up to their ideals. They have embraced an ideological orthodoxy at variance with the universal openness that the name “universitatis” requires. They can fix this, and they must. They do not deserve to be put into receivership, nor does the American public deserve to lose the benefits of the life-saving and life-enhancing research that takes place daily within their walls. Nor do bright, ambitious students from around the country, and around the world, deserve to miss out on the extraordinary opportunities we graduates have enjoyed.

I am very glad that Harvard, as the richest and one of the best universities in the world, has taken a stand and taken the lead. It will make it easier for others to follow. If history is any guide, this will be painful in the short term, but Harvard and our other great universities will survive, and they will grow from the experience.