Dad's University: Eduard Schmidt's legacy through the eyes of his daughter
It's been four years since we lost my dad, but he's still with us. For us, his family, he was the center of our lives, a role model we looked up to.
On 11 December, Masaryk University Rector Emeritus Eduard Schmidt would have celebrated his 90th birthday. A prominent figure in Czech physics and a long-standing educator, he was rector of Masaryk University from 1992 to 1998. He left an indelible mark on the university's modern history and on the memories of several generations of students and colleagues.
I had the honour of working with Eduard Schmidt from the early 1990s, when the turbulence of the university’s Civic Forum brought us both into the leadership structures of Masaryk University. After years of adversity, he re-emerged into the spotlight, and it suddenly became clear that his contribution to the university environment was irreplaceable, transcending mere expertise and formal position. His commitment to the essence of university life transcended the usual political and academic strategies. He recognised that a university does not stand on the instructions of this or that ministerial official or on small favours or perks, but on a certain kind of mission that cannot be faked.
“He combined decency and firmness, gentleness and consistency. He could listen and be persuaded, but he could also calmly and without affectation insist on matters he believed to be right”, recalls his successor, Jiří Zlatuška, now Rector Emeritus.
I perceived him – and I was not alone in this view – as a person of integrity, calmness and authority who could stand alongside rectors such as Jelínek, Jařab, Palouš, Černohorský, Kovář and Hančil. They were individuals who derived their influence not only from their position, but also from their inner disposition and a deep loyalty to the university ethos. I miss such figures today; it seems that the generation of that time was united by humility in the face of the tradition of the European university and an idealism that enabled them to look beyond budget tables. Over time, it is precisely this characteristic of Schmidt’s that I remember most: that at a time of transformation, Masaryk University had a leader who could see its mission in the context of a long historical perspective.
His influence on university decisions and state committees was greater than is widely recognised today. The story of the Bohunice land is strong evidence of this. When it was drawn into the privatisation process in the 1990s, the possibility of saving it for the university seemed negligible, as we were not eligible to bid for it as a state institution at the time. Schmidt’s bold manoeuvre, which involved a private partner retaining the land for the university through a complex series of exchanges, was an act of strategic foresight. Without it, today’s campus in Bohunice would remain just a dream. While later phases such as loans, finalising plans and construction were visible and easily measurable, Schmidt’s role was more subtle. It lay in his deep conviction that the university should have room to grow.
Although universities are often discussed in relation to education, science or technology transfer, another dimension cannot be overlooked when it comes to Schmidt. He was a man of extraordinary cultural breadth. He enjoyed concerts, premieres, exhibitions and meetings with artists, not out of a sense of duty, but out of an inner need. His presence in such environments served as a subtle reminder that universities are not merely institutions for producing experts, but also cultural pillars of society. He cared for the artworks exhibited in the university’s public spaces and supported initiatives that connected the academic world with art. In this respect, he was unique and perhaps inimitable. While technical or scientific endeavours may be visible in the rankings, he represented a dimension that is invisible yet all the stronger in the atmosphere that the university creates around itself.
“He would surely be delighted to see how the university is flourishing and how the campus construction is progressing,” says Lucie Janíčková, Head of the Department for Doctoral Studies, Quality, Academic Affairs and Internationalisation at Masaryk University’s Faculty of Science, reflecting on what would please Eduard Schmidt most about the university and the city of Brno today. “He wanted Brno to be a university city, not only in terms of the large number of students, but also in terms of its ability to cooperate and share research and teaching capacities, thus becoming a university city of European stature”. Lucie remembers her father as a visionary whose long-term ideas about the functioning of a modern university gradually came to fruition. Her personal reflection on the legacy and values of Rector Emeritus Eduard Schmidt, which Masaryk University continues to develop to this day, is presented under the title ‘Dad's University: Eduard Schmidt's legacy through the eyes of his daughter’.
He combined decency and firmness, gentleness and consistency. He was a good listener and open to persuasion, yet he could also calmly and without affectation insist on matters he believed to be right. As vice-rector at the time, I recall his quiet yet unwavering defence of the Faculty of Science’s specific interests at an Academic Senate meeting of Masaryk University in 1990, held in the stepped auditorium on Burešova Street. I also clearly remember the year 1992, when we were opponents in the rector election, which took place in the lecture hall at the White House. He won fair and square, and over the next six years he led the university in a way that was decisive for its future direction.
When he supported the establishment of an independent computer science department, he had to go against the wishes of a significant part of his own faculty. He raised the issue with the Academic Senate of Masaryk University twice within a year, not to cause controversy, but because he could see that the university’s horizons were extending beyond the boundaries of faculty customs. Some of his colleagues may never have forgiven him, but history ultimately favoured his vision.
During both of my terms as rector, he was one of my closest collaborators. The management team was small, so mutual trust and the ability to see things in context were particularly important, as was remembering that a university is a living organism, not just a collection of tables. In this respect, Eduard Schmidt was an inspiration, working quietly and steadily even after we had gone our separate ways.
Eduard Schmidt (December 11, 1935 – November 10, 2021)
Eduard Schmidt graduated from Masaryk University's Faculty of Science and obtained his PhD in experimental physics in 1966. Following the social changes of 1989, he was able to habilitate in 1990 and was appointed professor in 1992. His academic, scientific and educational career is closely linked to Masaryk University. In 1990, he was elected Dean of the Faculty of Science at Masaryk University. From 1992, he served as Rector of Masaryk University for six years, followed by a further six years contributing to the development of the university as Vice-Rector for Research and Development. He played a significant role in establishing the Bohunice campus.
As an exceptional scientist, educator and rector, Eduard had a profound influence on many generations of young people, not only in the natural sciences. An active member of a number of cultural and social institutions, he was also a patron of the arts. He initiated the creation and development of a unique university art collection. His work at the university and beyond set an exemplary standard for education, ethics and learning. In 2012, he received the City of Brno Award, as well as the Masaryk University Gold Medal.
It's been four years since we lost my dad, but he's still with us. For us, his family, he was the center of our lives, a role model we looked up to.
On this occasion, the dean of the faculty, Prof. Tomáš Kašparovský, laid a wreath on his grave at the Řečkovice cemetery, accompanied by the incoming dean, Prof. Luděk Bláha, and other representatives of our faculty. Together, they paid a silent tribute to him.