Leiden University is not talking about Palestine nearly enough. Indeed, it is reluctant to even use the word “Palestine”. Its failure to condemn Israel’s actions is shameful. And yes, it shares this failure with most major political and academic institutions in Europe and in the world; but this does not make it any less shameful. If anything, it makes it worse.
When it comes to Palestine, our university has never been much of a bastion of freedom, and even less a bastion of courage. Its double standards on the matter have always been quite clear. We all remember the controversy of March 2022, when the university canceled Students for Palestine’s panel discussion “Apartheid, Racism, and Intersectionality” on the grounds that its moderator and speakers were not “neutral” enough.
Yet, a month prior, the university had hosted a talk called “Uyghur Human Rights Crisis: a Conversation”, during which both its speaker and moderator had unequivocally denounced China’s actions in Xinjiang as a genocide of Uyghur people. That time, the university had not felt the need to invite a “neutral” speaker presenting China’s side of the story.
Much more recently, this September, our university organized a livestream with Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky. He was warmly greeted by Rector Magnificus Hester Bijl herself, who said it was “an honor” to have him speak to LU students. The university’s official website has an entire article dedicated to the event. One particularly interesting passage reads:
“In his speech, Zelensky focused on the students and urged them to look outside their own bubble. He gave Russia trying to normalise genocide as an example. If, inside your own bubble you are told, day in and day out, that this is normal and the right thing, you will no longer be able make your own judgements about right and wrong, according to the President. ‘Form your own opinions, make your own choices, but do so together with others.”
Try to imagine anyone pronouncing the same words about Israel and Palestine within our university and not only not be silenced, but be applauded: it is unthinkable. Why is that? Our political and social bubble is very much trying to normalize Israel’s genocide of Palestinians; yet, our university definitely does not encourage us to think critically about that.
Why was the university able to take a clear stance on Ukraine, but not on Palestine? Surely both topics are incredibly sensitive and complex; yet, for Ukraine they were able to embrace that complexity, make a distinction between the oppressor and the oppressed, and speak up for the oppressed. Leiden University was able to condemn Russia and cut ties with its institutions while keeping the university a safe environment for its Russian students and staff by making it clear that they do not represent their government. Why can’t the same be done about Israel?
When the war in Ukraine broke out, the university found the words to sympathize with all affected while acknowledging that Russia was the aggressor and Ukrainians were the ones disproportionately suffering from that aggression. It probably wasn’t easy to find the words, but they managed. Where is that empathy now? I encourage you to read Leiden University’s statement on the “violence in Israel and Gaza.” There is not a single mention of Palestine or Palestinians, let alone their ongoing ethnic cleansing by the Israeli government. All there is is a vague couple of sentences about violence in “Israel and Gaza”, followed by a generic expression of wish for peace: “We hope that the hostilities will end soon.”
The “hostilities” will not end soon. They won’t, because no one is doing anything to stop them. The “hostilities”, at this rate, will only end with the complete destruction of Palestinians and their land. Hope will get us nowhere. Do you, as an institution, seriously want the “hostilities” to end? Start by calling for a ceasefire. That is the bare minimum; it doesn’t even require openly calling out Israel, as many cowardly politicians using the hashtag #ceasefirenow as a shield against accusations of inaction will tell you. It is the bare minimum, and yet it appears to be too much for our university.
The rest of the statement is not much better. After successfully avoiding taking any stance through the above-mentioned generic phrases about violence and peace, the text cuts right to some dry practical information for students and staff currently in the area, which by the time of the last edit there was none of. After that comes a paragraph on “different opinions”, which remarkably manages to police the tone of the discussion about Palestine and Israel without even clarifying what it is exactly that we are discussing. Finally, the statement closes with a “support” section that points those struggling to a series of mental health services which appear to individualize the issue. While for Ukraine a support group was set up almost immediately, for this crisis the university initially only encouraged us to process our emotions privately.
All in all, the statement is deeply disappointing, and provokes many questions. Where is the empathy? Where is the explicit calling out of the party that is disproportionately inflicting harm onto the other party? Where’s the space for collective reflection, discussion, and action? Why is it that while I’m reading words meant to reassure me that my university cares about academic freedom, I feel like I’ve just been told to watch my mouth? Why is it bad that my emotions are running high?
A genocide is happening, maybe emotions should be running high. Maybe instead of having a private conversation with a stranger to make my unpleasant emotions go away, I should go to a protest about them, or write publicly about them, or discuss them openly, with as many people as possible. Maybe instead of suppressing my anger, I should channel it into something constructive, something that will at least try to change the situation that is causing those negative emotions, not just distract me from it. Because it is okay to be angry about this, right?
The section about “different opinions” is especially troubling. It does not do much more than listing a series of good norms for ensuring healthy dialogue and yet, something in its tone feels different than the warm invitations to stay united as a community contained in the communications about Ukraine. The section’s content, at its core, is sensible: please respect each other. Yet, it reads as very tone deaf and, honestly, vaguely threatening.
It comes off as tone deaf because it chooses to emphasize the tone of the discussion, while completely disregarding its topic. When the topic is genocide, that is very disturbing. We are watching children die daily, and our university’s priority, before even acknowledging what is happening, is to make sure that we don’t argue with each other?
It comes off as vaguely threatening, too, because it once again takes a securitizing approach to the discussion of Palestine. Of course conversations should never turn verbally or physically violent, especially at university. However, while for most topics this either goes without saying or is mentioned briefly, for Palestine it hijacks the entire conversation. While the discussion of such a sensitive topic can indeed benefit from that disclaimer, the disclaimer should precede the discussion, not replace it. The whole statement might be intentionally ambiguous, but one thing is made crystal clear: whatever it is that is happening in Gaza, do not dare become argumentative about it. If you do, you’ll turn from an opinionated student into a security threat, and will be treated as such.
Overall, the takeaway message I get from Leiden University’s response is: when it comes to Palestine, it is better to not have emotions or opinions. Sure, we can have them, but they must be mild, and mildly expressed, even better if in private. We can conduct a scientific debate about it, that’s encouraged; but we should not be confrontational about this, we should stay neutral. We should calmly debate history as one of its bloodiest pages is written before our eyes. “Why can’t we all just get along?”, Leiden University’s statement seems to cry out, frowning upon these young, emotional students who get oh so heated up about politics.
While this remains the only official statement from the university, there have been some initiatives regarding the “Israel-Gaza crisis” since its publication. On October 18th, two professors held a meeting called “Understanding the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict” in Schouwburgstraat. On October 27th, Minister Robbert Dijkgraaf (Education, Culture and Science) met with some students and staff to discuss “the impact of the Israel-Hamas war”. On the same day, the university announced they are setting up “special mental health support groups for students who are negatively affected by the ongoing crisis in Israel-Gaza.” These are all good things, but until the university unambiguously condemns Israel’s ethnic cleansing of Palestinians, they are meaningless.
Providing students with the historical background necessary to understand a specific current event is very useful, but when that current event is a genocide, this cannot take precedence over actually recognizing what is happening, and doing everything in our power to stop it. How can I trust an institution that is failing to acknowledge an ongoing genocide to teach me something about it? This is also particularly aggravating in the case of Palestine because much of the reason why Israel is able to do what it is doing with very few people speaking up against it is that we are constantly told that we are not qualified enough to have an opinion about Palestine, because this matter is too complex. Leiden University, by organizing a lecture about the “history of this conflict” before it has even gathered the courage to use the word Palestine, let alone stand up for Palestinians, does exactly that. It tells us, once again, that this is not the time to take sides: we must study some more first. When will the time come? When will you deem us knowledgeable enough for our opinions to be taken seriously? How many Palestinians will there be left by then?
Also, it speaks volumes that the university is proactive about organizing events targeting students who feel like they do not know enough about Palestine and Israel, but has been avoiding having a dialogue with a group of students who is more than prepared on the topic, Students for Palestine. For an institution that takes pride in stimulating critical thinking, the university sure seems to babysit us a lot when it comes to Palestine: we can either meet to learn about it almost from scratch, or to take comfort in endlessly repeating the same platitudes: the situation is very sad and very complex. Very sad and very complex.
That, indeed, seems to be the summary of what was said during Minister Dijkgraaf’s visit to Leiden University. Most of us can’t be sure of what was said, actually, because we weren’t aware of the event in the first place. Judging from the pictures, it seems like only a handful of students and lecturers joined. How did they come to know about the event? If they were selected, what was the criteria? This lack of transparency, too, is part of the problem. People from different faculties and programmes are receiving different information. The university’s response to this crisis has been highly compartmentalized: everyone hears about some events and statements, but no one really knows what is going on outside of their bubble. At best, this is a symptom of disorganization. At worst, it can be read as a strategy to protect the university from accusations of immobility, by allowing the administration to say that they are doing something about this! We simply aren’t paying enough attention.
One initiative I did hear about, as an IS student, is the support group called “Global crisis mental health support programme of Leiden University.” This, so far, seems to be the only truly constructive, non-performative action taken by the university. Judging from the wording, it seems to come from a place of care. While this cannot be verified, it also seems to come from a personal or otherwise quite isolated initiative of some staff members. This is another problem: staff are not speaking out either. The silence of our professors is particularly disappointing.
Speaking up about this is undeniably a very hard thing to do, but it is also a necessary one. There are many excellent, well-established professors who could and should speak up: many of them tick all the boxes that make their shoulders broad enough to bear this task without life-altering consequences. To this group I say: if there is anyone who can change things in this university, it is you. Don’t leave this to your younger colleagues with more precarious positions, or to your colleagues of color, or your Muslim colleagues. Don’t leave your students alone, either. This institution as a whole is failing us all, and it is very late now to do something about it. But it is not too late.
– Bia
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