Abstract
In recent years, a campaign run by the BDS movement to boycott and silence Israeli academics has gained some support worldwide. Academics choosing to take part in the boycott are often accused to be moved by a new form of anti-Semitism – an allegation they fervently deny. A recent case in Australia saw Jake Lynch, a professor at the University of Sydney, taken to court and accused of breaching Australia's Racial Discrimination Act for rejecting an application from an Israeli academic for a visiting professor position. In this paper, we want to analyse such situations from a philosophical and legal perspective. We will argue that apart from being anti-scientific and counterproductive, such boycotts are also unlawful and – indeed – anti-Semitic. Boycott supporters often replace a person’s nationality with a person’s “institutional affiliation” to avoid being accused of racism and discrimination. We argue that this terminological disguise does not succeed in hiding the fact that often such boycotts illegitimately discriminate against individual Jews.
Last year, there was an important legal case in Australia with regard to the academic boycott against Israel. 1 The case involved Jake Lynch, a professor at the University of Sydney, who rejected an application for a visiting professor position from Dan Avnon, an Israeli academic. Lynch refused the application on the ground that he wanted to make a statement of disagreement with the current policies of the Israeli government. 2 Lynch later claimed that his actions had nothing to do with the academic being Jewish. Despite this, an International Jewish organization filed a complaint against Lynch, claiming that his behavior was discriminatory against a class of people – Jewish Israelis – and constituted an unlawful breach of the Australian antidiscrimination law. Eventually the case was dropped due to a technicality, without any hearings on the merits of the case. 3 Due to personal reasons, Avnon decided not to press charges or get involved in the legal case, making it impossible for the accusation to be heard due to lack of standing (i.e. the absence of a directly damaged party). 4 However, the supporters of the Boycott, Divestment and Sanction (BDS) against Israel did not pay much attention as to why the case against Lynch was dismissed and inaccurately portrayed it as a success for their campaign against Israel. 5
Here, we want to speculate over what should have happened had the legal process proceeded to the merits. We will do so by analyzing the situation from a philosophical and legal perspective.
The Australian case
Section 15 of the Australian Racial Discrimination Act 1975 (Cth) states that it is unlawful for an employer or a person acting or purporting to act on behalf of an employer to refuse or fail to employ a second person on work of any description which is available and for which that second person is qualified by reason of the race, color or national or ethnic origin of that second person. 6
There is no dispute that Lynch refused to employ Dan Avnon based on his Israeli nationality. It seems like the case should be decided and closed without much trouble, that is, the law bans discrimination against someone because of his/her national or ethnic origin, and Lynch confessed to discriminating against Avnon because he is an Israeli. However, Lynch denied that his action in relation to Avnon was racially based and argued that it only reflected his center’s policy of not engaging with Israeli academic institutions. 7
The first question one should ask when attempting to evaluate the strength of Lynch’s claim (not being moved by anti-Semitism but only being critical of Israel) is the following: Would his behavior be different had the scholar in question been an Arab Israeli (a Palestinian citizen of Israel if you like)? This option seems extremely unlikely, as it would be rather bizarre to discriminate against someone in order to show how the very same person is discriminated against (based on their religious, ethno, and geographical origins) in another context. 8 It would be absurd, for example, to refuse to cooperate with a Saudi woman who is active in promoting women’s rights in Saudi Arabia, in order to protest against women’s rights abuse in Saudi Arabia. It appears sensible to assume then that the discrimination took place because the person was a Jewish Israeli and that this factor was considered by Lynch. If this is the case, however, the rejection of the visiting application was based on at least two factors, namely, being Israeli and being Jewish, with both factors being decisive. This conclusion suggests that Lynch’s action was not merely anti-Israeli discriminatory behavior but that anti-Semitic motives were present as well.
It is possible that people who hold anti-Semitic attitudes are in search of a “hook” or a “rational cause” for them to be expressed. In line with the ever evolving nature of anti-Semitism, those negative feelings will not be expressed against all Jews but only against Jewish Israelis – under the guise that the feelings are political rather than anti-Semitic. The fact that the discrimination only applies to Israeli Jews does not make it any less discriminatory or acceptable. A person who discriminates “only” against Black Americans is no less of a racist than a person who discriminates against all Blacks. 9 Speculative or not, our discomfort wants to point out that it is up to the one who decides to discriminate against a person solely on the basis of this person’s national or racial identity to explain why such discrimination is not related to the person’s ethnic features.
Lynch counterargued our speculation of anti-Semitic motives, claiming that the outcome would have been exactly the same if an Arab Israeli would apply for the same fellowship, that is, “It is the fellowship scheme to which I object, as an institutional link with an Israeli university, and with which I refuse to collaborate, on principle.” 10
However, this position seems to prove the illegality and unreasonableness of Lynch’s policy. If he would indeed discriminate against an Arab Israeli student, it would be only based on his/her nationality – only on the fact that he/she was born, raised, and graduated in Israel. Even if the discrimination was based on nationality rather than anti-Semitism, the law prohibits both forms of discrimination; in clear words, it sanctions discrimination “by reason of the race, colour or national or ethnic origin” (Section 15(1) of the Australian Racial Discrimination Act 1975 (Cth)).
Further, Lynch claimed that his objection was not to the Israeli nationality but to the Israeli institution that the applicant was affiliated with. Again, this appears to be a weak argument. Lynch did not elaborate why the specific institution Avnon was affiliated with (the Hebrew University in Jerusalem) is different than other Israeli academic institutions (in fact, the Hebrew University has one of the highest percentage of Arab students among Israeli universities). 11 Lynch has made his position clear that all Israeli universities and institutions should be boycotted. 12
Thus, it seems that the “institutional” excuse is being used simply as a replacement for “nationality” or “race” justifications. Since Lynch, and others, knows very well that excluding someone for their nationality is illegal (and possibly immoral), they found a different term to describe the same thing – namely, they replace the person’s nationality with the person’s “institutional affiliation” to avoid being accused of racism and discrimination.
However, this terminological trick can be exposed in a few ways. To begin with, if the discriminant factor is indeed something that is different from nationality or race, then the person should be able to control it. Lynch, for example, could have offered the applicant a way to get the position without collaborating with the “original institution.” Such an offer never took place however, nor did Lynch tell the applicant that should he disassociate from the Israeli institution, he would then employ him. Lynch simply rejected the application. As Avnon had stated in an interview, rather than to treat him as an individual academic and find out what his beliefs, values, and work entailed, Lynch had treated him as a faceless symbol of Israel and had not discussed his sponsorship application – he simply rejected it. 13
As we said, Lynch has denied the allegations that he discriminates against Jewish Israelis, saying that his boycott is not directed against Israelis but against policies and actions of the State of Israel. Therefore, Lynch targets academic institutions that he claims have links with the Israeli military–industrial complex. 14 Again, this justification is problematic for a number of reasons. The dubious statement about the ties between Israeli academics and the Israeli army will not be analyzed in depth here. Nonetheless, it is important to stress that it is irrelevant that Lynch does not mean to hurt the Israeli academia but to protest against the Israeli government. What he actually does is clearly hurting a person, a Jewish Israeli. Even if not a perfect analogy, Lynch’s argument is similar to a person who says that he does not employ a woman not because he has any problem with women or because he wants to hurt them but because he disagrees with feminist theories and some feminist organizations. The flaw in Lynch’s argument is clear, that is, one can disagree with policies and ideas but one cannot hurt a person simply because of one’s disagreement with the policies of other people who happen to share the same denomination or race as he/she does.
Boycotting Israeli academia
Lynch’s actions are not isolated. They are part of a larger campaign run by the BDS movement to boycott and silence Israeli academics. 15 Moving on from the weakness of Lynch’s position, let us try to understand more in depth his anti-Israeli supporters. So, what exactly are the justifications and aims of this academic boycott?
Let us examine, for example, the position of Judith Butler, one of the most fervent supporters of the BDS. Butler has had particular visibility due to her popularity within some parts of international academia and for being a Jew (whichever way one wants to look at this variable, it is hypocritical to deny its added value in the specific context considered). Butler’s statements give rise to some of the ambiguities and questionable positions presented by the movement. On the one hand, Butler supports the BDS movement but on the other hand she writes, “what is needed is a public space in which such issues might be thoughtfully debated, and to prevent that space being defined by certain kinds of exclusion and censorship.”
16
Boycotting is censorship, especially in certain instances (like that one against Israelis) where dialogue is intended to be stopped tout court. Take, for example, the case of Mona Baker. Baker, a professor of translation studies and director of the Centre for Translation and International Studies at the University of Manchester, dismissed two Israeli colleagues from the board of her academic journal in an effort to boycott Israeli institutions. She argued that there was no way to distinguish between individuals and institutions, that is, “This is my interpretation of the boycott statement that I’ve signed […] I am not actually boycotting Israelis, I am boycotting Israeli institutions.”
17
Apart from the problems of this position as discussed above, such an approach appears to be judging and treating a person according to his/her ethnicity/nationality, without relevance to who he/she really is, treating him/her not as an end in himself/herself, but as means.
18
This clash with a version of the Kantian categorical imperative that is widely accepted through the Universal Declaration of Human Rights leaves room for speculation over that moral legitimacy that BDS supporters praise to be having. Interestingly (and perhaps related to the same criticism we are raising), Butler also wrote that she does not support boycotting individuals: I myself oppose any form of BDS that discriminates against individuals on the basis of their citizenship. Others may interpret the boycott differently, but I have no problem collaborating with Israeli scholars and artists as long as we do not participate in any Israeli institution or have Israeli state money support our collaborative work.
19
(Emphasis added)
Ironically, when Jewish institutions in the United States decided to boycott Butler because of her support of the boycott, she signed a petition in which she condemned the “censorship” of certain viewpoints and asked for educational institutions “to have the courage and the principle to stand for, and safeguard, the very principles of free expression and the free exchange of ideas that make those institutions possible.” 20 Without expanding on this point, we want to underline how this disparity of treatment between active and passive censorship seems conveniently inconsistent – and thus unconvincing. 21
How should we deal with Israel’s academic achievements?
To highlight the lack of clarity surrounding the ultimate aim of BDS and other forms of boycotts against Israel, it might be relevant to consider a specific example that caused heated debate within the non-monothematic Israeli academia that of Ariel University. 22 Boycotting this specific institute (for being in a contested geographical area in the West Bank) could be seen as a more direct engagement with a specific situation. By working in such an institution, Israeli (and non-Israeli for that matter) scholars decide to take a clear political stand that can be condemned by a boycott. In this case, people are judged for what they do directly and the choices they make, including the political ones. When it comes down to cutting ties with the entire academic world in Israel, it is harder to understand how it can be legitimized (scholars might have voted against the current government and be in strong disagreement with its policies). What is to be achieved?
Yet even more polarized cases like that of Ariel University do not escape dilemmas concerning the ultimate goal of academia, for example, sharing knowledge. Recently, researchers from Ariel University were invited to present their work in London but were asked to keep their academic affiliation hidden. 23 Is academia trying to combine the practical outcomes with preserving some kind of pseudoethical facade? This case brings forward two side issues worthy of attention. First, in contrast with any moral conduct normally expected within a workplace, no relevance has been given to the researchers’ loyalty toward their employer (in this case Ariel University). Second, in more practical terms, standard applications for research funds strongly rely on one’s reference to past results. Not acknowledging to the public one’s achievements creates a paradoxical situation in which the same people who value the research and want it to proceed directly jeopardize the opportunity for this research to get funds necessary for its continuation. How would (or should) the academic community behave if, say, a group of Israeli scientists from Ariel University was to discover an immediate cure against the spreading of Ebola? The London situation appears to suggest that the results would be used but the source would not be clearly (if at all) acknowledged. Outside of professional contexts, academia is the one arena in which anyone who has dealt with the struggle of publishing one’s work would hardly agree to such an option – even if deeply moved by the principle of sharing knowledge as much as possible. More importantly, Israel’s contribution to global science and technology is significant and Israeli scientists are at the forefront of medical and technological innovation. 24 This is one of the reasons Israel has been included as the only non-European member in European research and innovation programs since 1996. Between 2007 and 2013, for example, Israeli public and private institutions contributed their scientific expertise to over 1500 European scientific projects. 25 Are the BDS supporters suggesting that we should stop using our laptops and cell phones containing Israeli technology or refuse medical treatments developed in Israel? 26
On more practical and immediate terms, the boycott seems to exacerbate tension and contribute to the conflict. It is quite expected in fact that only those in agreement with the most extremist scholars will continue to invite and be invited by Israelis, feeding each other’s polarized ideas. However, is academia not supposed to enlarge our spectrum of opinions? There is something very antiacademic and counterproductive about boycotting other academics. Scientific method as well as democratic and humanistic values require argumentation rather than exclusion. It is exactly in the academic context – usually abroad – that people from across the divide can meet and build bridges through common interest. Also, this move is exceedingly patronizing from the Western world (to our knowledge China and India, among others, have not subscribed to any of these moves). Israeli academic institutions are the only ones in the region that foster cooperation between Israelis, Palestinians, and other Arab researchers. 27 Boycotting such institutions shows a lack of respect toward all colleagues (Atheists, Christians, Druze, Jews, and Muslims alike) who work daily to preserve the democratic ethos present in Israel.
Final remarks
We offer a final and very relevant consideration concerning the method suggested by the BDS movement. It seems that the argument of the supporters of the boycott is that they do not want to cooperate with Israeli institutions because of their affiliation with a state that commits wrongs. This line of argument assumes a strict form of collective responsibility, a problematic approach that is much contested in the literature. 28 Discussing collective responsibility is beyond the scope of this article. We only wish to point out that if one endorses such a position, it becomes quite easy to justify boycotting any institution in any country, since no country commits no wrongs. Israel is not the only state that commits wrongs, and – especially in the Middle Eastern context – it seems disingenuous not to acknowledge its positive role in a region suffused by dictatorships, oppression of women, homophobia, and religious fanaticism. The fact that the boycott supporters focus only on Israel and ignore other countries that commit major wrongs indicates that it is not the wrongs that are at the root cause here but something else. Is it a coincidence that the only Jewish state in the world is being singled out in such a manner? We think not, and we believe that this fact reveals something deeply disturbing about the motivations of the boycott supporters.
If indeed BDS supporters suggest we should boycott all those organizations that are somehow linked to a rogue government, it is hard to see how “refusing to participate in any Israeli institution” can be justified by academics such as Butler who are happy to be employed and affiliated with many US institutions. After all, would Butler suggest that the United States is not involved in many dubious military adventures around the globe? In an even more direct parallel, how should one consider the affiliation of scholars like Butler with Palestinian institutions? 29
Applying the BDS logic, it seems one should boycott all Palestinian students affiliated with any Palestinian institution. First of all, the connection between Palestinian universities and Palestinian terrorist groups is more apparent than the link between Israeli universities and the Israeli army. Hamas military parades are held frequently in Palestinian universities, with public displays of missiles used to be launched at Israeli cities. 30 Unlike the State of Israel or the Israeli army, Hamas has been labeled by many representatives of the international community as a terrorist group. 31 Nevertheless, Hamas enjoys large support among Palestinian students and is officially represented in Palestinian student councils by its affiliated student political parties. 32
Moreover, Palestinian universities exercise direct racial discrimination against Jews. While the Israeli government and its education institutions encourage Arabs to study in Israeli universities, 33 Jews are not allowed to enter Palestinian universities, not even as speakers. A recent example was the expulsion of Amira Hass, a far-left Jewish Israeli journalist, from a conference at Birzeit University. 34 The phrasing used in this case by the Palestinian university closes the circle with Lynch’s statement, that is, she was expelled because “Israelis (Jewish Israelis that is) are not allowed on the university grounds,” and it does not matter how supportive these Israelis are of the Palestinian cause. 35 This should constitute a sufficient proof of the level of discrimination present in the Palestinian academia, but what is important to underline again here is that Hass was expelled because she is Jewish Israeli. Arab citizens of Israel who teach at or visit Palestinian universities are not subject to the same policy and are allowed to enter Palestinian campuses. In other words, she would not have been expelled had she been an Arab Israeli. Luckily, an Arab Israeli who attended the conference left it in protest of Hass’ expulsion, leaving us with some hope that not all academic integrity have been lost yet.
Footnotes
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.