Only two types of people give a damn about the piss-poor relations between the Harvard of the Midwest and the little town it likes to call home. And most of us aren’t either of ‘em.

One breed is the Evanston aldermen, led by Arthur Newman, a man whose name appears seven to 12 times a day in the daily campus newspaper. These guys are bitter that Northwestern has stepped its way around paying taxes since 1851 – back when Noyes and Hinman were university presidents, not streets.

The other is the up-and-coming scoops from the Daily Northwestern who actually spend their Monday nights at the Evanston Civic Center covering the aldermen’s long, boring meetings. I know, I’ve been there. These cub reporters have limited options about what stories they can bring their editors. And, even in a town starved for news, no one wants to read about the sanitation department’s budget.

And thus comes the local twist on the age-old cliché, town-gown relations.

It’s a similar story in college towns across the country. Sure, thousands of kiddies with money to spend do wonders for a local economy, but they also crank Eminem too loudly and puke on front lawns.

So what makes Northwestern’s situation different?

Here, the worst beefs usually aren’t between students and residents. Lawn pukings aside, NU kids seem to have a good-to-quite-good relationship with Evanstonians. (Still, it doesn’t help that people like Lucile Krasnow, Northwestern’s community liaison with E-town says things like this, as quoted by the Daily in November: “We have a problem with students drinking, and we will always have them.”)

What makes this town-gown affair unique is that it’s become a war between NU administrators and local aldermen.

Think ‘war’ is taking it a little too far?

In a court document filed in 2001, Evanston’s lawyers claim NU official Eugene Sunshine threatened a “cold war” if City Council passed an ordinance unfavorable to the university.

The animosity between local politicians and university suits is nothing new.

When the university’s charter was written, it included a clause allowing Northwestern to not pay property taxes on its huge chunk of land. So, despite all your late-night Burger King runs, Evanstonians make a good argument that NU is mooching its way through a very parasitic relationship.

So, while all this official back-and-forth grumbling went for dozens of years, most students who put in their four years and got out of Dodge never even noticed. Except, of course, for the Daily’s city-desk reporters and the aldermen who got their names in the paper because of them.

Then, sometime in Spring 2000, things got nasty.

The City Council – overriding longtime Mayor Lorraine Morton’s veto – passed an ordinance outlining the so-called Northeast Evanston Historic District.

In a move that can most closely be described as Gerrymandering, the Historic District is basically an imaginary box drawn around NU’s campus: From Emerson to Lincoln, and from the lake to Sherman. That includes 49 Northwestern-owned buildings.

So what does this all mean?

According to Alderman Newman, it creates a safeguard for some of the early 19th century buildings Northwestern owns. Now, Northwestern can’t decide on a whim to knock one down and build a diversity fountain in its place.

According to NU’s Sunshine, it’s an act “motivated by vindictiveness.” Northwestern officials now must get approval from the city before making any changes to the “design or exterior appearance” of the designated historic buildings – things like replacing a window or re-shingling the roof.

Plus, a month before City Council voted on the district, NU President Henry Bienen said the ordinance would be a “serious impediment” to the school’s ability to keep its status as a leading research university.

No big whoop, right? Sounds like any other small-city ordinance protecting old places.

Except when you look at some of the newly recognized historic buildings at NU, including the Foster-Walker Complex and Blomquist Recreation Center.

So, for every architectural aficionado who would whimper at the thought of changes being made to the 130-year-old University Hall, there must be some Evanstonians out there who are scared shitless about the new coat of paint NU wants to put on Blomquist’s roof.

Now, step out of the Historic District box for a moment, and take a look at other examples that could appear to be the city clenching a tight fist around Northwestern and its students (who happen to be about 10 percent of Evanston’s population).

Every so often, Evanston’s code inspectors go around and enforce the sometimes trite and outdated laws that remain today. Although their visits are unpredictable, two factors you can bet on: They will come either Fall, Winter or Spring, but not Summer Quarter, and they will do their work at buildings inhabited mostly by students. Do they make sure the structure is sturdy and no one’s safety is in jeopardy? Sure. Do they dish out citations and threaten evictions if people are breaking the no-more-than-three-unrelated-people-living-under-one-roof ordinance? Absolutely. Does the first example benefit everyone? Yep. Does the second seem to cast its dragnet only on students? Definitely.

And, in a city with needle-in-a-haystack parking opportunities and no bike lanes on the streets, who came up with the idea to have a law that prohibits bicycle riding on sidewalks?

In recent years, City Council has tried to pass ordinances that were blatantly anti-NU. One such flop was a resolution to charge NU $2 million a year for emergency services – the same year the city announced it was facing a $2 million budget deficit. Another time, the city proposed a water tax, but only for institutions of a certain size. Guess what was the only place in Evanston that fit that criterion? That’s right, NU.

Still, NU-Evanston relations stayed somewhat smooth through several years of this.

Until, of course, the Historic District was passed. Then all hell broke loose.

The ugly saga came to a head in November 2000, when Northwestern filed a lawsuit in federal court. The suit alleged that Evanston overstepped its authority and was discriminatory when it passed the Historic District.

Almost a year later, before any ruling was made, Evanston fought back with an 88-page rebuttal motion, calling NU’s lawsuit “frivolous” and lacking substance.

Interestingly enough, the one politician in this town who doesn’t get much press is Mayor Morton, a Northwestern alum. In this case, she may very well have been the voice of reason.

When casting her “no” vote against the historic district in 2000, Morton said she thought the passing of the ordinance would lead to lawsuits and would “stymie or eliminate” NU-Evanston relations.

It’s distinctly possible the solution to the whole NU-Evanston squabble could lie in the words of dear Mayor Morton, always an unbiased representative of both sides.

Here’s her view: There’s no question that the college students here make the most of the cozy town they call home for four years. And what do the residents get in return? Puking, loud parties, and, if they’re lucky, a membership to SPAC?

Doesn’t have to be that way, Morton says. Just think of pies. Delicious pies.

“Northwestern is like a delicious pie that needs to be eaten, and the community doesn’t always take advantage of all the University provides.”

No one listened, and today, the lawsuit remains unsettled.

Maybe Lorraine’s on to something, although it’s doubtful that the lure of an occasional lecture series speaker is going to feel like adequate reparations to Evanston residents. After all, for those of you who have never been in Evanston for the Fourth of July parade down Central Street, some people hold flags in one hand and anti-NU posters in the other. Seriously.

The fact is, yeah, the university got a pretty sweet deal when the city signed off on the charter back in 1851. Get over it, Evanston.

There are hundreds of NU professors, staff and students who live in Evanston and do pay property taxes. And there are thousands from the same groups who fill more Flattop booths, place more Papa John’s orders and get more Great Clips haircuts than Joe and Jane Evanston ever will.

Like fighting spouses trying to make the best of a quickly souring marriage, both sides have met with a court-appointed mediator to try and hash out their concerns. So far, they’ve come up with bubkus.

If an agreement isn’t reached by June, the case will go to trial.
If and when it does, rest assured that you’ll be able to read all about it next fall in the Daily.

There may be a new set of city-desk reporters on the “Historic District” beat, but Art Newman will surely be happy to get them caught up to speed and his name in the paper.

But if Northwestern v. Evanston ever becomes a landmark 14th Amendment case for the U.S. Supreme Court, you can say you knew all about it.

More than likely, you still won’t care.

Evan Benn could be the next NUcomment editor-in-chief. He’s also damn sexy, so tell him you want his body at e-benn@northwestern.edu.