I am Jewish. And I believe in Israel. I am also outraged by its violent behavior in Gaza and the West Bank, but I do not believe Israel is an inherently colonialist or illegitimate entity. Nor do I believe that the Zionist nation — born in the wake of the Holocaust — is behaving like the Nazis who tried to eliminate us. This is precisely why I need to hear from people who think differently from me. I want them to challenge my ideas, which is the only way we ever learn.
Columbia and the Trump Administration
And that’s also why I’m outraged by Columbia University’s agreement yesterday with the Trump administration. There’s no other way to put it: Columbia abandoned free and open dialogue — the most fundamental principle of academic life — to save its own skin.
The Trump administration had canceled $400 million in federal grants to the university, and the rest of Columbia’s $1.3 billion in annual federal scientific funding was at risk, unless it cut a deal. And so it did. Columbia agreed to pay the federal government $200 million for allegedly failing to protect students from antisemitic harassment. It also pledged to abide by earlier commitments to fight antisemitism by improving disciplinary procedures and providing Title VI trainings about discrimination. At first blush, that sounds great. Who wants more hatred targeted at Jews?
Columbia abandoned free and open dialogue to save its own skin.
But here’s the problem: Reasonable people disagree about what kinds of statements and behaviors constitute anti-Jewish hatred. And Columbia has effectively placed that disagreement out of bounds.
Earlier this month, the university adopted the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s definition of antisemitism. According to the IHRA, “claiming that the existence of a State of Israel is a racist endeavor,” “applying double standards by requiring of [Israel] a behavior not expected or demanded of any other democratic nation,” and “drawing comparisons of contemporary Israeli policy to that of the Nazis” are all antisemitic.
So let’s suppose a professor declares that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza, like the Nazis did in Europe. Would Columbia declare the statement antisemitic and subject the professor to disciplinary action? How about a staff member who says that “Zionism is racism”? Or a student who chants, “From the river to the sea, Palestine must be free”?
You might view all of these statements as antisemitic. And depending on who is talking and listening, I might agree with you.
But I cannot — and will not — abide by a university that restricts our discussion of the matter. In the United Kingdom, which adopted the IHRA definition in 2016, a University of Bristol professor was investigated for writing an article that criticized Israel, and a Jewish speaker who had survived the Budapest ghetto was forced to change the title of a talk that compared her experience to that of Palestinians living under Israeli occupation.
All of this leads to censorship. Our entire model of learning is based on the unfettered expression of ideas. Once you start telling people what they can and cannot say, it’s game over. And it’s even worse when we let the government in on the game. That’s what Columbia did by agreeing to a monitor who will oversee the deal and report on the university’s “progress” every six months.
How will the monitor interpret charges of genocide against Israel? If a professor compares Gaza to the Holocaust, and Columbia fails to take action against her, will the monitor declare that the university broke the agreement? And what kind of action will be enough? If Columbia requires the offending professor to undergo mandatory training — an appalling prospect in its own right — might the monitor say it should have suspended or fired her instead?
We don’t know, of course. But here’s what we do know: Columbia has opened the door to all of this, and more.
It is true that the agreement declares that nothing in it “shall be construed as giving the United States authority to dictate … the content of academic speech.” That’s “our North Star,” the acting president, Claire Shipman, wrote in a letter to the university community, “and we did not waver from it.”
Please. We didn’t just waver from it; we threw it under the bus.
Shipman’s letter popped into my inbox last night because I’m a proud graduate of Columbia University. Forty years ago, it taught me how to think. I can recognize sophistry when I see it.