There is a profound difference between criticism and negation. Criticism seeks to change reality. Negation seeks to erase it. This distinction is increasingly blurring in contemporary academic discourse surrounding Israel, to the point where it is sometimes difficult to tell whether we are dealing with political analysis, a moral stance, or a closed belief system that does not allow questions.
In recent years, a nearly uniform narrative has been constructed in many universities. Israel is not presented as a country with a complex conflict, moral failures, and controversial decisions. It is presented as the essence of evil. As an entity that has nothing worthy in it, no complexity, no moral right to exist. This is a discourse that does not seek resolution but decisive victory. Not correction but cancellation.
The problem is not the existence of criticism itself. Criticism of Israel exists within Israel as well, often far sharper. The problem is selectivity. The same academic space that emphasizes context, history, power relations, and complexity in almost every other conflict abandons all of these when dealing with Israel. Here it is permitted to speak in slogans. Here it is permitted to use absolute terms. Here it is permitted to collectively accuse an entire people and skip over facts that do not fit the story.
Thus emerges a discourse in which Israel is always the initiator, always the aggressor, always the guilty party. The conflict is detached from its regional context, from the history of the Middle East, from the internal Palestinian divide, from the violence directed at Israel by actors uninterested in any compromise. Reality is reduced to a simple moral tale: oppressor versus oppressed. Absolute good versus absolute evil.
Within this framework grows a culture of boycotts. Boycotts of academic institutions, collaborations, researchers, and students. In the name of justice, collective punishment is applied. In the name of human rights, academic freedom is restricted. In the name of peace, channels of dialogue are blocked. The boycott is presented as a moral tool, but in practice it is a means of disconnection. It does not change policy but hardens positions. It does not promote understanding but strengthens hostility.
One recurring claim is that the boycott targets institutions, not individuals. This is a convenient but detached distinction from reality. Academic institutions are not walls. They are people: lecturers, researchers, students. Boycotting an institution means boycotting those who work within it. Canceling collaboration harms research. Preventing student exchanges narrows knowledge. These are not merely symbolic actions. They have real consequences.
At the same time, an alarming erosion of academic standards themselves is occurring. Serious and far-reaching claims are accepted without sufficient scrutiny. Terms like apartheid, genocide, ethnic cleansing are sometimes used without solid factual grounding, without serious historical comparison, without intellectual responsibility. Anyone who tries to challenge them is seen as defending evil. Criticism itself becomes suspect in advance.
Thus the academy loses its basic role. No longer a space for inquiry but an arena of loyalty. No longer a search for truth but the production of ideological consensus. Students are exposed to a single narrative. Courses are built around a predetermined conclusion. Complexity is perceived as evasion. Doubt as a moral problem.
Within this discourse arises a sensitive but unavoidable question: why is the right to self-determination denied to only one collective? Why is a Jewish nation-state seen as illegitimate by its very existence, while dozens of other nation-states do not provoke the same opposition? Why is Jewish history presented as a foreign colonial project while the context of persecution, refugeedom, and lack of sovereignty is almost never told?
This is not a claim that all criticism is antisemitic. But there is a pattern here: of dehumanization, of attributing unique evil, of demanding moral purity not applied to any other actor on the international stage. This is a discourse that refuses to see Jews as a legitimate political subject, only as a moral object to be judged.
The deepest absurdity is that this discourse also harms those it claims to represent. Boycotts and rejection of normalization weaken Israeli-Palestinian collaborations. They silence Palestinians who promote dialogue. They damage educational and economic initiatives. They reduce opportunities for movement, study, and research. In the name of an abstract struggle, they create tangible harm.
Against all this exists a quieter, less glamorous alternative: not boycott but responsibility. Not disconnection but engagement. Not absolute morality but partial steps. Strengthening moderate forces, encouraging collaborations, education for empathy, gradual diplomatic measures. This is not a magic solution. It is not a story with a clear ending. But it is a path that recognizes that two peoples live here, that both have fears, wounds, and rights.
The real choice is not between justice and injustice but between seductive simplicity and responsible complexity. The academy can choose to be an arena for hurling accusations or a space for courageous thinking - one capable of holding contradictions, asking hard questions, and recognizing that reality does not surrender to slogans.
Because the moment we stop seeking truth and start manufacturing an enemy, what remains is no longer academia. It is propaganda with a degree.
Comments
Post a Comment