Do not submit to Europe
Last month, I attended a
meeting of political science researchers in Washington who were
concerned about current trends in American academia, and especially
about the efforts to sideline Jewish researchers.
They described
incidents in which there were no keffiyehs, no Palestinian flags.
Rather, in homegrown American accents and proper liberal terminology,
the second generation of Middle Eastern immigrants declared that the
time has come for those who grew up in the United States to take over
the position that the Jewish community has been enjoying.
And the Jews? They
react by quietly running away, gathering together and discretely cutting
ties with their Israeli colleagues. Why should they invite a researcher
from Tel Aviv as a partner to a study when the invitation alone will
turn into a completely preventable political argument? These thoughts,
which put Israeli researchers in a compartment alone, happen secretly,
almost unconsciously, and they have a single outcome: academic boycott.
When I returned from
abroad, and talked about the worrying issues discussed at the meeting, I
was dismissed and told to calm down. Most of my Israeli colleagues were
in complete denial. Some made the extra effort to tell me about their
great relationships with colleagues overseas. And indeed, for a moment,
even I began to waver and to ask myself if this meeting had really taken
place or if it was merely a bad dream.
I was reminded of the
meeting recently, when I read about the European Union's plans for
sanctions to impose on Israel if it, God forbid, acts in a way that
Brussels interprets as hurting the chances of a two-state solution. For
example, construction in the area between Jerusalem and Maale Adumim or,
God forbid, construction in Har Homa or Givat Hamatos, would result in
economic punishment for a rogue Israel.
What could be the
benefit of an academic boycott at American campuses and research
institutions or of the EU's approach? Although I did not find an
intelligent person to justify what is happening in American academia,
some of my best friends explained to me that in the case of settlement
construction, European intervention actually promotes the peace process.
The issue of boycott affects us all, I was told, and if my impressions
from the meeting in Washington are correct, we must think about how the
issue relates to this us. The issue of sanctions for the settlements,
however, relates only to a specific sector of Israeli society, and maybe
it is good for all of us that an external body is doing the work for
us.
This mistaken
distinction between the academic boycott and the settlement sanctions
reminds me, indirectly, of an event from my father's life. He spent his
childhood in Berlin, before the noose tightened around the Jews. One
day, he went out with his grandmother and they saw a Jewish beggar on
the side of the road. The beggar asked for a coin, but my
great-grandmother took my father's hand and dragged him away. "Those are
Ostjuden [eastern Jews]," said his grandmother, who was born in the
Ukraine, "Keep your distance from them, so people don't think we are
like them."
Sometimes it seems to
me that some of my colleagues are afraid of being seen as related in any
way to the settlements. They prefer to keep a certain distance. They
feel that perhaps cooperating with Europe and agreeing to the sanctions
for the settlements will distance the threat of the academic boycott --
but there is no difference between one boycott and another.
And for those who
correctly understand that the Brussels sanctions and the American
academic boycott are one and the same and that they evoke a mental
connection to a dark period in the history of the West, here are the
closing words uttered by one of the participants at the meeting in
Washington. The speaker is a scientist who recently completed decades of
service at the Pentagon. "We the Jews have never been more than honored
guests in this land," he said.
As the meeting
dispersed, I approached him and asked, "What, if anything, is the
difference between today's Washington and the Berlin of the 1930s?" He
looked at me, thought for a moment and said, "Here we are honored
guests, there we were simply guests."
Dr. Eyal Levin is a lecturer in the Israel and Middle Eastern Studies Department at Ariel University.
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