Campus unrest over events in the Middle East is not peculiar to the US. The UK, Australia, Germany, France and other countries have seen similar turbulence. Catalysing it has been moral outrage over the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, which has largely overshadowed the atrocities committed by Hamas on 7 October. Students have set up encampments, occupied buildings and disrupted classes to protest what they believe to be Western acquiescence, if not complicity, in Israeli military actions.
What is peculiar to the protest movement in the US, however, is its scale, politicisation and mass arrests. Sparked by the demonstrations at Columbia – themselves a in response to Columbia president Minouche Shafik’s apparent compliance with congressional demands that tenured professors with pro-Hamas views be disciplined – the unrest spread rapidly to other Ivy League schools, private West Coast universities and public institutions in the Midwest, South and Southwest. Republican lawmakers then called on Shafik to step down, while rabbis cautioned Jewish students not to set foot on campus.
The police have been repeatedly called in by US universities to clear the protests, resulting in more than 2,500 arrests so far. Yet although the police have broken up demonstrations in other countries too, the scenes have rarely been anywhere near as ugly.
So, why have events spun out of control at US universities? Aside from strong-willed domestic groups, three factors seem to be at play. The first is that over the past decade, liberal academia has lost favour with populist conservatives, who oversee educational affairs in the House of Representatives. These politicians question not only how university presidents have handled a rising tide of antisemitism, but also the liberal agenda that their institutions seem to be pursuing.
Not surprisingly, many conservatives bent on sacking university presidents are the same legislators who advocate penalising academic institutions for adopting “far left” policies. They have little appreciation for academic freedom, especially where it allows for the propagation of “woke ideology.” Populist conservatives have aggravated the crisis by pressing university presidents to quash peaceful protests, by defending some student victims of reprehensible conduct, but not others; and by advocating the suppression of anti-Zionist views, which they label antisemitic.
Donor activism is another contributory factor to the American rancour. Compared with their European counterparts, US universities are highly dependent on private contributions, which makes them more vulnerable to pressures from wealthy donors. Many such donors believe that their billion-dollar contributions entitle them to dictate how the university should be run. “If suppressing dissent works on Wall Street,” they reason, “the same practice should also work in academia.” What they fail to realise is that the values of academia are fundamentally different from those of business. A university can’t just cave in to external pressure the way a business can because this would undermine academic freedom, free speech and, quite possibly, due process.
A third problem in the US is a decline in civil discourse. Far too many students are quick to attack the proponents of “unacceptable” ideas, as opposed to the soundness of the ideas themselves: a proclivity that has fuelled both antisemitism and Islamophobia and been a factor in the violent confrontations between demonstrators and counter-demonstrators. To self-righteous protesters, moral outrage over the violation of what they deem inviolable principles justifies disregard for the rights of those who seemingly condone the violations.
But, rather than the unpalatable alternative of asking state troopers to intervene, what should American university leaders do to restore civility, order and tolerance on campus?
First, they should strive to establish credibility with conservative lawmakers. This is no doubt a daunting task, but, to begin with, they must demonstrate that they are ensuring the safety and well-being of all members of the university community, regardless of religion, ethnicity or political persuasion. They must also demonstrate the educational value of the peculiar agenda their institution is pursuing.
Second, while resisting interference in academic administration, university leaders should engage activist donors in university affairs in other, more constructive ways. They should not feel obliged to appoint donors to the board of trustees, whose role is management oversight and, to safeguard institutional autonomy, they should condition the memorialisation of philanthropic acts on donor consent to respect the values, governance and independence of the institution. But donors might, for instance, be encouraged to serve on advisory boards, whose role is to tap professional expertise.
Third, while not necessarily acceding to their demands, American university leaders should listen to students. They should make clear that responsibility for formulating university policies resides with the board, administration and faculty, but stress that all of them should take into account student concerns. In addition, students should be taught how to engage in constructive debate, which requires both intellectual acumen and respect for the views of others.
There are lessons to be learned from the current wave of student unrest. It has highlighted not only tragedy in the Middle East but also a higher education crisis in the US. Restoring order and tranquility to American campuses must be based on dialogue and rapprochement, not force or confrontation. A change in approach is urgently needed.
Richard J. Joseph is a senior consultant at the Association of Governing Boards of Universities and Colleges and former president and CEO of Babson Global.
