Universities in the crossfire: A reply to Sari Hanafi

Abstract

This article provides a slightly different take on the issue of polarisation and academic freedom than the one proposed by Sari Hanafi. We contend that students and academics, especially within the humanities and social sciences, tend to exhibit increasing cultural and political homogeneity and growing intolerance towards those who have different views. This leaves the universities culturally and politically isolated at a time when they have come under increasing assault, whether political or economic. It also risks intellectual sclerosis – the replication of set formats. I plead for pluralism. In relation to Hanafi’s arguments, I am not convinced by the explanatory power of ‘symbolic liberalism’ nor of ‘neoliberalism’ whilst some of his accusations towards European intellectuals seem contradictory. Finally, I argue that state interference and cancel culture should not be conflated.

In his article ‘Societal polarization, academic freedom, and the promise of dialogical sociology’, Sari Hanafi (2025) makes a variety of stimulating propositions and I will address only some of them here. I will engage with Hanafi's claim that polarisation and cancel culture are rife, especially in academia, and that cancel culture is connected to what he calls ‘symbolic liberalism’ and neoliberalism. I will also reflect on his argument that, in the current context of the war in Gaza, there is a clampdown within Western institutions on attempts to defend the Palestinian cause. As I hope to make clear, I concur with much of Hanafi's argument, but there are some points on which we disagree. Let me first explain briefly where I stand in relation to the theme of polarisation and the academy, before shifting my focus to Hanafi's argument.

There is no doubt that there is increasing polarisation in contemporary societies, a novel form of politico-cultural tribalism where people find it increasingly difficult to communicate in a civil manner across various divides. The divisions are often portrayed in terms of left versus right, or progressive versus conservative, but none of these simple dichotomies capture the complexity and diversity of schisms that we witness today. The topics that divide us are numerous, with some key clusters centred around the politics of migration and national sovereignty, gender and sexuality, and race and decolonising initiatives. Established political juxtapositions have been upended, as is evident in the case of populist arguments against global neoliberalism which mix political concerns about rising inequalities and lack of democratic accountability with a nativist and at times xenophobic language.

I am not entirely convinced by Hanafi's argument that ‘neoliberalism’ is to blame for the increased divisions; it is not clear what, within this context, this term is meant to denote precisely or what its explanatory power would be. Conversely, there is plenty of evidence that social media has played an important role in the polarisation within society, with algorithms set up to gain profit through advertising, thereby providing more visibility for extremist interventions and less for nuanced argumentation (e.g. Van Bavel et al., 2021).

Universities have not been immune to these political and cultural shifts. There have been dramatic and well-documented cases of extreme intolerance towards opposing views: Kathleen Stock, a philosophy professor, was targeted by a group of activists who considered her views on transgender persons as deeply unacceptable. But, oddly, it is the absence of dissensus within the academy that is even more indicative of a growing entrenchment and intolerance towards different views. Especially within the humanities and social sciences there has been an increasing presence of a political and intellectual orthodoxy – a quiet acceptance of a set of intellectual and political positions. Right-wing critics might have overplayed the depiction of universities as uniformly leftist institutions and they have certainly used this stereotypical portrayal strategically to discredit the academy, but the fact that they do so should not detract from the situation at hand. There is indeed evidence that universities have lost some of their erstwhile cultural diversity and political pluralism. There is a narrowing of which political and intellectual positions are regarded as acceptable, and a broadening of what is seen as reprehensible (e.g. Norris, 2023).

Of course, any culture has taboos: things that cannot be done, subjects that cannot be addressed, or positions that are regarded as unacceptable. This poses a unique problem for liberal cultures or liberal communities as they pride themselves on open debate and often use that criterion to distinguish their preferred political cultures (and political systems) from that of others (e.g. Popper's open society, Habermas’ communicative rationality). This ideal of an open debate can never be achieved in its pure form because certain topics are simply out of bounds (Al Azmeh and Baert, 2025). One of the remarkable cultural developments in the last few decades has been the narrowing of what is considered acceptable within liberal cultures such as our universities. In other words, there is an extension of taboo subjects and taboo positioning – things that cannot be discussed or positions that are regarded to be so morally reprehensible that the ‘perpetrators’ deserve to be hounded or excluded from the community.

This phenomenon poses a twofold danger: the possibility of intellectual sclerosis and intolerance within the institutions, combined with a cultural divergence from the concerns and political sensibilities of people outside the academy. As for the internal issues, intellectual sclerosis refers to the replication of set formats, the same type of arguments, similar conclusions, etc. Within social sciences and humanities, academics often position themselves as combating the status quo and being avant-garde, whereas within their institutions they may well (and often do) represent the reigning (and sometimes tired) orthodoxy.

These developments within the academy also affect its relationship to society as a whole: there is a widening gulf between the language and concerns of those within the academy and those outside it. This poses political problems. Higher Education has become a major divider in society; whether someone had gone through college or not was a remarkably good predictor in the last US presidential elections, with the Democrats underperforming significantly amongst the least educated. Likewise, recent attacks by the US administration on universities such as Harvard have been carried out without widespread consternation amongst the broader public, something which, again, might well be indicative of the fact that a large section of the US population feels separate from (and possibly hostile towards) elite institutions of Higher Education. This is not a healthy place to be.

This brings us to the other danger for US universities. Indeed, since early this year (2025) we have observed an increasingly authoritarian stance from the US administration also in relation to universities, curtailing their erstwhile autonomy. Combined with the unprecedented cut in funding for scientific research, this has seriously damaged the workings of the academy in the US. Some broader concerns about anti-Semitism are not completely ill-founded (as can be inferred from, for instance, the Presidential Task Force on Combating Anti-Semitism and Anti-Israel Bias at Harvard). It is, however, difficult to see how these allegations could in any way justify the actions that were taken by the US president, especially as Harvard set out to act on the conclusions and the recommendations of the report. Freedom of speech and campus safety are being used as justifications for interfering with, and deliberately setting out to cripple or destabilise, institutions with a predominantly liberal culture. Even more sinister are the arrests and attempts at deportation of students under the pretext of perceived threats to national security or even due to minor legal infractions. The upshot of all this is widespread fear amongst students and faculty, which is rather ironic given how much this current administration calls upon the principle of free speech, and indeed attempts to interfere in the politics of other countries on the basis of this principle, with the vice-president even having the audacity to use the 61st Munich Security Conference to lecture European leaders on the supposed ‘danger within’.

The developments within the US are part of a broader pattern within Western democracies, with autocratic leaders such as Viktor Orbán clamping down on institutions such as universities, national broadcasting organisations and the judiciary which were, within the context of a check-and-balance system, independent of executive power and able to hold it to account. Orbán famously made it impossible for the Central European University to operate in Budapest, forcing it to relocate to Vienna. Given the unpredictability of the current US administration and the inevitable back and forth with the courts, it is difficult to gauge what the precise state of play will be in relation to American universities at the moment of this article going to print (let alone in a few years’ time), except to say that the damage is already done. Even in the unlikely scenario of a total U-turn on the part of the President, or a complete legal victory for the academy, the ability of top American universities to attract the best students and academics has been undermined substantially and it will take time to undo the damage. Reputation takes decades, if not centuries, to build, but heavy-handed interference by government authorities can undo it within a short time span. This might well be the ultimate aim of the current US administration.

Even leaving the sinister developments in the US and Hungary aside, Western universities have come under greater pressure more generally. First, in countries such as the UK, the Netherlands and Australia, universities have come under tremendous financial strain owing to a mixture of factors, ranging from decreasing government funding to declining international students (the latter brought about partly by governmental policies aimed at discouraging foreign students from attending institutions of Higher Education). In the UK multiple universities are running unsustainable deficits, leading to vast redundancies and closures of whole departments.

Secondly, for several decades now, there has been pressure on the universities to accommodate political goals, notably around diversity and equality, but also in relation to research and teaching assessment. This has ultimately led to a larger university bureaucracy which in turn has contributed further to the financial burden of the institutions. Thirdly, some of the university courses provided, especially in the humanities and social sciences, have come under increased scrutiny. Questions are being asked about whether they are beneficial to the students and society, whilst comparisons are being made with vocational or technical training which seem more immediately ‘useful’. During the twentieth century Higher Education was seen as essential for intergenerational upward social mobility, but this is no longer a given. In contrast, media commentators point out that graduates are saddled with high debt and, so critics claim, leave university with little in terms of technical or transferable skills.

All this has made the landscape for Western institutions of Higher Education immensely challenging, and professors in humanities and social sciences in particular can no longer assume that their teaching and research has broad support. It is therefore all the more important that academics remain in touch with broader societal concerns and sensitivities, and that they ensure that their institutions remain pluralistic endeavours. Intolerance towards views different to ours does not just impede intellectual innovation; it also risks alienating vast groups of people who should be on our side and who value an open society.

Two decades ago, I argued that good social science distinguishes itself by the ability to challenge our deep-seated assumptions, including those held by the researchers themselves or indeed by the broader academic community to which they belong (Baert, 2005). This neo-pragmatist stance requires a commitment on the part of the researchers to be attentive to their own blind-spots and presuppositions, and to learn from those who are being studied. In the context of Hanafi's paper, I would extend this argument further, to plead for openness not just towards the subjects of our study, but more generally towards those with whom we might vehemently disagree and who may hold core values very different to our own.

Sari Hanafi reminds us that there are more pressing issues at the moment than the plight of academics or the future of academic institutions. Our particular concerns pale into insignificance compared to, for instance, the tremendous toll on the Ukrainian people, the Palestinians in Gaza, and the Israeli victims and families of the October 7th attacks.

Now, in relation to Sari Hanafi's arguments, I would like to make a few points

Firstly, after reading Hanafi's (2025) text a few times, I remain slightly puzzled as to what ‘symbolic liberalism’ is meant to mean – a definition would be useful. Similarly, what is meant by ‘Symbolic Liberal Zionism’? (capital letters are Hanafi's) Hanafi suggests that ‘liberal Zionists’ seek security for Jewish people over ‘reciprocal freedom’ and that ‘… the transition from the rational to the reasonable is crucial and this shift is violated by Symbolic Liberal Zionism’. How, and in what way?

Secondly, Hanafi seems to confuse two different issues. First, there is a growing intolerance – also within the academy – towards people who hold different views and increasing polarisation. Second, the state has started to interfere with the workings of the university (e.g. Prevent in the UK, the current US administration in relation to universities). I am not sure how productive it is to combine, as Hanafi does, these two very different phenomena under one conceptual banner. It is, of course, the case that the former can feed into the latter and vice versa, but still it is important to keep the analytical distinction.

Thirdly, some of the accusations towards European intellectuals are pertinent; others less so. There is a tendency to overgeneralise. Some of the evidence provided by Hanafi does not always support his case or is contradictory. On the one hand, Hanafi writes that Western commentators (including sociologists) are surprisingly tepid when it comes to criticising Israel in relation to the war. On the other hand, he points out that ‘… thousands of Western scholars and writers denounce the war on Gaza…’, ‘over 3000 academics’ signed a letter denouncing Israel, and that several academic associations supported Hage when he was sacked for making anti-Israel statements.

Fourthly, the argument that ‘… the neo-liberalism immersed in each sphere, including academia, has reinforced polarization and cancel culture…’ seems rather broad. What type of ‘neoliberalism’ are we talking about, and what is the precise causal link with polarisation and cancel culture? In sociology neoliberalism is often a deus ex machina, a convenient explanatory shortcut and scapegoat. Likewise, in what sense are ‘individualization’ and ‘psychologization’ ‘neoliberal-driven’, as asserted here? In a similar vein, several times throughout the article, this polarisation is portrayed as a ‘hierarchical polarization’ – what precisely is hierarchical about it? Is it inevitably hierarchical?

Fifthly, Hanafi's section on Gaza and the Palestinian case reflects the same polarisation which he otherwise denounces. I do realise the difficulty of maintaining equanimity in the context of the ongoing military assaults on the Palestinian people. I prefer not to fuel this heated debate further except to say that I fully agree that the Israeli military action in Gaza has been horrific (with the death toll now exceeding 50,000 Palestinian deaths), and that the response by most Western governments has been lame. However, this does not mean one should dismiss more generally legitimate security concerns on the part of Israel as well as on American campuses.