Abstract
Protest and open discussion are under attack in Israeli universities.
Over the past few years, the attack on Israeli academic freedom has taken two main forms: threats to students’ freedom to organise politically-oriented activities on university premises and attacks on faculty who voice their criticism of government policies. The Democracy Project of the Association for Civil Rights in Israel (ACRI), one of the leading civil and human rights groups in the country, published a report covering 2010-11, warning of severe threats to academic freedom; arguably the situation is getting worse.
In recent months, the debate has centred on acknowledging – be it through political action or classroom discussion – the Nakba. The word means ‘catastrophe’ in Arabic, and it refers to the events leading up to and immediately following Israel’s formation as a state in 1948 and the impact on the Palestinian community residing there at the time of its formation. The events range from exile from land and homes to violence and even massacre. The mere use of the word ‘Palestinian’ is met with criticism by many defenders of Israeli government policies, as the assertion that these events were immoral, illegal or even real. Rather than allow a healthy debate on the wealth of facts and information available on the subject, the Israeli government and Israeli academic institutions have chosen to shut down the debate entirely, going so far as to levy sanctions on those who engage in it.
The ‘Nakba law’, which was passed in March 2011, is the culmination of efforts by various lobbies and members of the Knesset, Israel’s parliament, to erase the subject from public discussion. It amends the national budget law to allow the minister of finance to reduce government funding to any institution (including schools and universities, community centres and local governments) that commemorates either independence day or the anniversary of the establishment of the state of Israel as a day of mourning (‘Nakba day’), rejects the existence of Israel as a Jewish and democratic state, incites racism, violence or terrorism, supports armed struggle or terror activities or terrorist organisations against the state, or that vandalises or dishonours the state flag or its symbols. The minister may reduce funding by several times the cost of the activity that is deemed to be in violation of the law.
The law that was eventually passed represents a far more moderate version of the original one proposed in July 2009, which, among other things, would have made participation in events commemorating the Nakba punishable by three years’ imprisonment. Still, the original law was clearer and more comprehensible. One of the most damaging aspects of the current law is its utter vagueness and broadness, so that it is difficult to anticipate what types of activities the minister of the treasury could interpret as a rejection of the ‘Jewish and democratic’ character of the state, or as dishonouring state symbols. One can imagine that the minister, should he choose to impose sanctions, could find a violation of the law in virtually any critique of the state, whether it be political or artistic expression. The act would not need to constitute vandalism, encourage violence or support terror in order to be compromised.
This vagueness causes a severe chilling effect among Israeli educators, leaders and students and creates uncertainty around what constitutes prohibited speech, leading to self-censorship. It is precisely the sort of law that the United States Supreme Court, in the 1950s, identified as curbing free speech – even speech that is permissible – for fear of breaking the law.
In May 2011, the alumni association of an Arab high school in Haifa, the parents of students at an Arab-Jewish school in the Galilee and a university professor, all of whom commemorate the Nakba, organise events or publish literature critiquing the ‘Jewish and democratic’ nature of the state, petitioned the Israeli High Court of Justice with the assistance of human rights NGOs Adalah and ACRI. They claimed that they were all at risk of losing funding and that the minister of finance could deem their activities to be in violation of the law. They also claimed the Nakba law was unconstitutional and its implementation would violate their freedom of expression, right to equality and free choice in education, right to freedom of occupation and the right to group dignity. Furthermore, they argued that as long as the grounds for implementation of the law remain unclear, it chills all speech critical of the state and its policies, which renders it even more dangerous to free speech in a democratic society. The court, however, dismissed the petition in January, leaving the law intact and citing the fact that the petitioners had not brought a specific case of implementation before it and thus it could not rule on its constitutionality.
An Israeli Arab student commemorates Nakba day at Tel Aviv University, 14 May 2012
Credit: Jack Guez/AFP/Getty Images
Although the law has yet to be implemented by the minister of the treasury, the chilling effect is evident. Academic institutions have used it as justification for censoring faculty and students. In May 2012, during the week of the anniversary of the establishment of the state of Israel, several student groups at major Israeli universities planned events acknowledging Nakba day, some of them featuring poetry recital and prayers. Tel Aviv University granted a permit for an event to take place on university premises. However, it gave permission on the condition that event organisers pay the six security guards hired for the occasion, citing the Nakba law as grounds for placing the financial burden on the students rather than on the institution. From a civil rights perspective, forcing students to bear the costs of protest was inappropriate given that their actions were legal, even under the law. The commemoration should have been treated the same as any other event where views are freely expressed: the protection of staff and students would normally be funded by the university, or, if the event took place off campus, handled by the police. This event should not have been an exception.
Following the university’s approval, a heated debate in the Knesset education committee ensued and the university was subjected to immense pressure from the minister of education, Gideon Saar, who personally called the Tel Aviv University president, requesting him to put a stop to it. In fact, the debate continued even as the event had already begun on 14 May. It stirred such emotions that the 400 students and faculty attending were met by about 200 right-wing protesters. The counter-protest included the use of a megaphone, whereas the Nakba event participants were prohibited from doing the same. Angry right-wing protesters held up signs that read ‘Nakba Harta’ (Nakba bullshit), called demonstrators ‘traitors’, shouted ‘death to terrorists’ and attempted to tear their signs and otherwise disrupt the event.
The censorship on Haifa University’s campus was even more severe. On 16 May, it cancelled the Nakba day event organised by university students and scheduled to take place on campus, despite the fact that the necessary permits had been granted. Prior to the decision to cancel, the university administration had begun placing various restrictions on the event, which was to include a performance by artist Saleem Dou from the play Sagh Saleem, together with left-wing student activist Saar Saqali. The university banned the distribution of flyers with the word ‘Nakba’ and forbade Saqali from participating or even coming on to campus. According to the event organisers, the university’s last-minute cancellation was influenced by pressure from both the minister of education, similar to that levied on Tel Aviv University days before, and from the National Student Union.
Student unions on university campuses have become a source of censorship themselves in recent years, as right-wing student groups have risen in popularity and strength, mirroring and encouraged by the expansion of extreme right-wing parties in the Knesset, especially since the 2009 election. One group in particular, Im Tirtzu, which has made a lot of noise both on and off campuses, is backed by substantial external funding and other resources (particularly from the Jewish Agency for Israel, according to Calcalist newspaper). The group was established in 2006, following Israel’s second invasion of Lebanon, and purports to ‘combat’ the de-legitimisation of Israel and ‘renew’ Zionist discourse and ideology in order to ‘ensure the future of the Jewish nation and the State of Israel’. Im Tirtzu has a presence on every major campus in Israel, lobbies the Knesset and publishes reports, attempting to discredit the work and funding sources of Israeli human rights NGOs and expose the ‘anti-Zionist bias’ among academics in Israeli institutions. The group has been successful in gaining media attention and public support, at times even through unorthodox or aggressive means, and it seems university administrations now find themselves kowtowing to its pressures and demands, particularly given the group’s political leverage among Knesset members and vocalised backing by such politicians as Minister Saar.
For instance, in March, Im Tirtzu launched a campaign against Tel Aviv University philosophy professor Dr Anat Matar for her participation in a demonstration against Israel’s administrative detention of Palestinian prisoners. The group initiated a student petition and organised dozens of students to file complaints against her to the university, after which the university announced that it would conduct a full investigation into her conduct. A similar campaign was launched earlier in the year against Professor Yehuda Shenhav, also of Tel Aviv University, for statements he made in his anthropology class.
In December 2009, an organisation calling itself Academia Monitor published a list of Israeli academics who supposedly wish to ‘destroy the state of Israel’, including academics who support the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement against Israel or who work with civil and human rights organisations such as B’tselem. In 2010, Im Tirtzu, among others, waged a campaign against politics and government professor Neve Gordon at Ben Gurion University in Beer Sheva, primarily in response to his August 2009 Los Angeles Times opinion piece expressing his support for BDS. The Israeli consular general accused Professor Gordon of having crossed the line of academic freedom and of joining a campaign against the state of Israel. Only when Professor Gordon received a death threat did the Ben Gurion University president come to his defence.
Although right-wing views and support of Israel’s policies are mainstream in Israeli society today – both in thought and practice – groups like Im Tirtzu behave as if those voices are silenced while left-wing and critical views dominate. At best, they believe that the opposition’s discourse must be balanced, and, at worst, quashed entirely. The government seems to share this warped perception: in June, a new version of the Nakba law was proposed by a member of the extreme right-wing secular party Yisrael Beitanu. Under the proposal, the authority to implement the law would be transferred from the minister of finance to the minister of education. The bill is a clear attempt to transfer authority to a minister who will be more active in his implementation of the law, including against universities, as the minister of education also serves as the chairman of the Council for Higher Education.
Avigdor Lieberman, leader of Yisrael Beiteinu, left, and Likud parliament member and minster of education Gideon Saar at the Knesset, Jerusalem, 30 March 2009
Credit: Sebastian Scheiner/ AP Photo
This is the same education minister who just weeks earlier declared his intention to punish Israeli academics who support a boycott of Israeli academic institutions as part of the BDS movement, despite a petition signed by over 540 Israeli academics demanding that he refrain from taking actions which would curb their academic freedom. This is the same minister of education who publicly supports Im Tirtzu and who vehemently opposed Tel Aviv University’s decision to allow the ceremony commemorating Nakba day on 14 May. The bill was proposed against the recommendation of the Knesset legal advisor, who advised that it was unconstitutional and that it negated the democratic values of freedom of political speech and academic freedom. If passed, the newly revised bill would grant the minister the authority to reduce funding from academic institutions that allow any activity that negates Israel’s existence as a ‘Jewish and democratic state’.
In fact, the Nakba law does not stand alone. Over the past two years, right-wing parties, with the support of the government, have managed to pass a number of new laws which openly violate the rights of the Arab-Palestinian minority and infringe the freedom of speech and academic freedom rights of Arab and Jewish citizens, lay people, students and professors alike; others are still in draft form or have reached the preliminary stages of the voting process. This includes the ‘boycott law’, which makes it possible to launch a civil suit against anyone in Israel who calls for a boycott against the state, or even against settlements or their products – whether or not any damages can be proved. This law, too, has yet to be used but has effectively chilled speech related to boycott. Other laws set additional barriers: for example, laws pertaining to ‘admissions committees’ that decide whether Arab-Palestinians can purchase houses in certain towns or a law that allows citizenship to be stripped from anyone who commits ‘treason’ or ‘aids an enemy state in a time of war’, part of a series of what many Knesset members dub the ‘loyalty laws’. Israel’s political majority is exploiting its numeric advantage to infringe on the rights of the minority and, consequently, is creating an atmosphere of tyranny of the majority.
Today right-wing politicians are busy politicising what can be published and said in universities, yet little attention is paid to what is not expressed. It is hardly more political to discuss the events leading up to the formation of the State of Israel and its impact on the Palestinian-Arab community than it is to refrain from acknowledging such an impact entirely. In June 2011, a mandatory curriculum introducing a focus on former Israeli prime ministers Menachem Begin and David Ben-Gurion as national leaders was introduced for all schools, including Arab schools. Yet no Arab leaders are included in the mandatory curriculum, despite the fact that Arab-Palestinians comprise nearly 20 per cent of Israel’s population.
What to teach and what not to teach in higher education can be a profoundly political choice across a spectrum of disciplines, from law to psychology to literature, and censoring the minority opinion, particularly in the ostensibly democratic institution of academia, can never be the answer. When academics start being fearful of expressing their views in the dark shadow of political pressure and the threat of delegitimisation, academic freedom is at serious risk. Moreover, the absence of a full presentation of all perspectives of historic and present events not only silences segments of society, but it hinders the realisation of the full potential of the minority, thereby stunting the growth of society as a whole.