When Discussing Israel and Palestine, Universities Must Do Better

What are universities for?

This seemingly simple question was the focus of a recent international conference hosted at the University of Regina, where I am a professor. The gathering, organized by my friend and colleague Marc Spooner, included a panel discussion, later broadcast on CBC Ideas, framed around the following questions: Where have universities gone wrong? What are they doing right? And what do they owe the public?

Ontario Justice Markus Koehnen invokes such questions in his recent decision about the legality of the former pro-Palestinian encampment at the University of Toronto.

While Koehnen acknowledged that the protest had caused some reputational harm to Canada’s largest university, he also noted that:

To the extent that these harms arise because the protest has focused attention on a divisive issue, that is something all residents of a free and democratic society must be prepared to live with. That is all the more the case in a university whose mandate it [is] to explore difficult issues.

As students return to campus in September, we must ask ourselves how well the academy is faring in its exploration of the polarized issue of Palestine and Israel, and how we can do better.

Universities are falling short

While responses have varied, overall universities are falling well short of fulfilling their core mission when it comes to the “conflict” in the Middle East.

And we’re not alone. Businesses, unions, media outlets and faith communities continue to be tested about how and even whether to engage in conversation. But given the core mandate of the university — teaching, learning, research and public service — and protection for academic freedom and the tradition of freedom of expression, shouldn’t we be setting an example for dialogue and learning?

Isn’t that a big part of what universities are for?

Just over 20 years ago, I graduated from Simon Fraser University with a major in history. My courses focused on 20th-century international history, but I cannot recall Israel and Palestine ever being discussed. The subject didn’t come up in graduate school either.

And so when I started my academic career in 2009, I had very little knowledge of the region and the political, ideological and religious fault lines.

Ten years ago, I began a process of self-education about Israel and Palestine, learning which has accelerated in the past year, and is ongoing.

I teach a leadership class in the University of British Columbia’s school of population and public health. The course focuses on different approaches to leadership and self-reflection. Early this year, I reflected on what had been missing from my undergraduate education. I felt a sense of responsibility to students to open space for them to ask tough questions and seek answers.

‘No open discussion’

But as the semester unfolded and Israel’s war in Gaza intensified with heartbreaking consequences (loss of life, destruction of hospitals, spread of disease and rise in malnutrition), there was no open discussion in UBC’s public health school despite the obvious link between the humanitarian emergency and public health.

In response, a group of public health students with support from a small number of faculty organized an event in February called “Global Health and the War on Gaza: Starting the Conversation in the SPPH [school of population and public health] Community.” Unfortunately, the organizers were not provided with access to the school’s newsletter or email listserv to promote this important event.

We had a similar experience in April with advertising a webinar with a speaker from Save the Children called “The Impact of War on the Children of Gaza.” Every UBC department that was invited to sponsor this event did so except the public health school.

Writing in The Tyee, Spencer Izen recently cautioned, “Don’t be afraid to read or hear ideas you think you’ll dislike.” Further, he encouraged people to be “grounded in reflectivity and intellectual humility” and rightly notes that “conversation is the best way to confirm your own perspective or become convinced of another.”

This is sage and timely advice that dovetails with Justice Koehnen’s: the university community must be prepared to live with discomfort that comes from exploring divisive issues.

Let’s rise to the challenge

So what needs to change?

First, as faculty members, we need opportunities to openly share and discuss our experiences in the classroom, to learn from each other. Looking ahead, we should anticipate and, where appropriate, create space inside and outside the classroom for discussion about Palestine and Israel.

We can also identify ways to support students in searching for and finding answers for themselves. And we can model Izen’s advice, seeking out ideas and perspectives that we as faculty members may not completely agree with.

Effective leadership of these discussions may require faculty members and student event leaders to develop new facilitation skills that equip them with tools to productively hold space for challenging, often polarizing conversations that, handled poorly, could result in communities breaking apart. This is not an area that I have expertise in, but approaches such as inter-group dialogue and other pedagogies exist. Universities should make facilitation training widely available. I for one would register for a workshop.

Being up front about norms for dialogue in the classroom and at public events is essential: no racism, no discrimination; no antisemitism, no Islamophobia. Although it should go without saying, criticism of state policies and practices is not racism against a people.

Consistent with their mandates, universities should sponsor and promote events that advance learning and understanding about Israel and Palestine, and the impact of the war on Palestinians and Israelis.

The university should defend the academic freedom of all faculty members, especially those, for example, who work in health professions that carry additional obligations to speak out against human rights atrocities.

We have work to do to overcome apprehension in exploring critical questions about an issue that some have come to believe is “too complex” and “too divisive.” But we must rise to the challenge.

The university owes nothing less to its students, faculty and the public. This, after all, is what universities are for.