DOWN AT CRAIGIE ARMS, a group of once strong-willed but now politically-cornered tenants are learning a couple of hard but all-too-common lessons about their landlord.

Lesson number one: you can almost never beat Harvard at its own game.

Lesson number two: you've almost always got to try.

AFTER A SERIOUS ASSAULT near their 122 Mt. Auburn St. homes more than six months ago, the tenants began to worry about security in their own building. And as they looked around, their concern turned into outright fear for their safety.

The tenants learned in the course of security checks that several of the building's apartments had been kept empty and that at least one other had been converted, seemingly, for other uses. In the face of Cambridge regulations prohibiting the removal of rent-controlled units from the housing market without special permits, the University's actions seemed at least strange and quite possibly illegal. In the face of the threat to safety that permanently empty apartments could present, Harvard's action seemed plainly dangerous.

Fear led the tenants to more research into their own surroundings, research that brought them to the conclusion that Harvard had little intention of continuing over the long term to rent the Craigie apartments. They presented their discoveries at a rent control hearing last November.

The tenants found several of the apartments stripped of appliances and fixtures--toilets were missing. With heaps of garbage accumulating in certain units there seemed no signs of a landlord trying to rent empty apartments. Unusual, for a city whose greatest problem is perhaps its housing crisis.

The University managed by early November to come up with a plan for capital improvements on the building. The plans were selected in time for Harvard to give a green light for the renovations from the city rent control board, but not nearly early enough for the tenants to defend themselves adequately against the University's request. The completed plan gave the tenants a long list to inspect, calling for repairs, which, if approved by the rent board, would send the rent at the Craigie Apartments soaring to more than $700 a month.

Three days into the rent control board's hearing on the tenants' complaint of illegal removals and on the University's petition for approval of the renovation, the tenants agreed to attempt to resolve the dispute through private negotiations with Harvard representatives. The decision was understandable, if perhaps somewhat hasty; the hearing had been going poorly for the tenants with two high-priced and high powered Harvard attorneys consistently besting the residents' ill-prepared and bumbling lawyers. And then there is Harvard's long history of getting what it wants from a five-man board that consistently draws criticism from tenant activists.

YOU DON'T NEED advanced calculus to figure out why Harvard was--and is still--anxious to change its rental structure at the 80-year-old Craigie Arms. Rents in the building currently average about $175 a month--far below the open market level for non-rent controlled units. And under the rent control guidelines, Harvard may only increase rental charges when the rent control board approves capital expenditures on the building.

Neighborhood representatives point to a possible motive for Harvard exceeding the amount of necessary repairs and the level that current tenants could afford. University Place, a $25 million Harvard development, is under construction next door to Craigie Arms. Aging low-and moderate-income apartments along side luxury condominiums and offices might constitute an eyesore and scare away potential clients and devalue the entire project.

In the negotiations with tenants, Harvard has agreed to provide some room--25 per cent--in a refurbished Craigie Arms for low and moderate-income earners who qualify for state and federal subsidies. But considering Harvard's clout with the state housing agency--a member of the Corporation served as chairman during the Dukakis administration and an attorney for Harvard's Craigie Arms veloper served as general counsel to the board for several years--this concession is little more than a token gesture. And if one wishes to compare the deal offered to tenants with the mortgage arrangement offered to Faculty members--who can receive funding for Cambridge housing at an incredible 6 percent interest rate--Harvard's position seems almost an insult to any tenants with self-respect.

THERE'S NO GUARANTEE THAT the University is seriously interested in settling the dispute through private negotiations. Harvard has been promising a "final" offer to tenants every since Christmas, and it has yet to arrive. In the meantime, about 10 residents, not members of the tenants' association, have moved out. More may be on their way.

The remaining tenants have been through a physically and emotionally draining fight with the Goliath of the Square's landlords. They seemingly had a strong case to present to the rent board, and yet it was not solid enough to give them confidence that the rent board would lend its support to the battle. Now the tenants are tired--a perfect state of mind, from Harvard's point of view. Little will may be left to keep them to their original demands of Harvard admitting guilt for keeping units off the market intentionally, and guaranteeing to modify its treatment of low-and moderate-income tenants in the future. Living with the fear of losing your home is not easy, so it's understandable it tenants find Harvard's offer of cash compensation for moving expenses attractive. A new and different fear for security from the one that originally prodded the tenants into action may now lead them to reluctantly back down.

Only 60 or so rental units are at stake in the Craigie Arms controversy. But in a larger context, it is the University's entire policy towards its extensive property that are at issue. The Craigie tenants tried--most likely unsuccessfully--to modify that policy to better respond to the necessities of tenants who cannot afford more than $8000 a year in rent. That is a hard thing to do when the University maintains that it in fact plays only a minor role in the Square and in fact cannot be reasonably expected to have a great effect on improving conditions there. "We don't have big control over the Square," an official in the office of community and government affairs said last spring.

While the function of public relations officials may be to deny that a clear policy towards the future of housing in the Harvard community even exists, the Craigie Arms dispute has proved the contrary to be true. A policy does exists, and it closely resembles that of any successful conglomerate. Grab the bucks while you can, and don't lose sleep over anything--or anyone--that gets in the way.