There can be little debate or doubt that universities are integral to the production and maintenance of systems of power. Our work and practice is heavily interwoven with the interests of state and class elites, all the more so as public funding systems prioritise specific forms of research and teaching programmes, and as we become increasingly dependent on the private sector for research funding. Yet the institutions hold fast to their status as a place of critique, for the expression of dissent, and a willingness to engage with new or critical ideas – which explains their attachment to academic freedom. For many of us in the sector and beyond, therefore, there is shock or dismay when universities act to maintain systems of oppression, while the attachment to academic freedom and a liberal image of education and university practice means we also often fail to see that abandonment of critique. It is this attachment and this blindness that makes Maya Wind’s excellent unpacking of the Israeli university system so powerful and so unsettling.
Wind starts for a clear and disruptive premise: that Israel is a settler colonial state, and that the Palestinian campaign for the political, economic and cultural isolation of Israel as seen in the Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions campaign is a legitimate demand. She explicitly notes the call for the isolation of Israeli universities and develops the argument in its light. Her case is built on two principal strands. The first is the place of the Israeli university system in day to day circumstances of Palestinian life. Here she considers the ways particular aspects of scholarly activity sustain their subjugation – focusing on archaeology, legal studies (principally criminology), and Middle Eastern studies as narrowly constructed and constrained by state ideology and policy. This line of analysis also explores the Israeli university system as the physical manifestation of the state, including explorations of campus design and location. This is then extended through her consideration of the way the state and the university sector are so comprehensively interwoven, such as the role of state security forces in the provision, management, and leadership of academic programmes. Here Wind demonstrates convincingly that not only is the state and its universities closely interwoven (that is not uncommon) but that the state ideology and its security and military services shape and determine what takes place in the sector; that there is no place for that critique we celebrate as essential to academic life and practice, calling into question claims to academic freedom.
The second strand is more subtle but just, if not more, powerful. Here Wind continues to explore academic freedom but shifts focus from the interweaving of the state and university sector to look at the active role the universities play in Palestinian subjugation. This aspect of her case considers the ways that the adherence to the ideology of the state limits the kinds of approaches to scholarship that are seen and legitimate as well as the kinds of issues and questions that may be explored – so here she looks at cases and systemic evidence that points to the undermining of the integrity and legitimacy of scholarship that addresses the adverse effects of military occupation on Palestinian life. This discussion also looks at the ways the state has sought to limit Palestinian access to higher education, at the denial of educational opportunities in the Occupied Palestinian Territories (written before the 2023-4 war in Gaza where every Palestinian university has been destroyed, this is disturbingly prescient), and the active complicity of the university sector in the Israeli far right’s attacks on Palestinians – both those in the Occupied Territories and Israeli citizens.
Wind approaches this project from a distinct position – as a Jewish-Israeli scholar (she is an anthropologist now based in Canada). This position gave her access to people and sources that it would be difficult if not impossible for many Palestinian researchers, partly because the ideology of the state and university sector means she is presumed to be less of a threat (as a Jewish-Israeli), but also because she is embedded in different networks with assumptions about access to and use of knowledge. Even so, she makes clear that there are many people she has interviewed who cannot be named – in most cases we get first names or the use of a nom de plume – both these approaches are common and legitimate in scholarly practice of this kind. Even so, the openness of the interweaving of the sectors and place of the university sector in denying Palestinian freedom (to evoke the title) means that many leaders in the sector are quite open in their public statements, making much of what she explores akin to what the US anthropologist Michael Taussig calls the ‘public secret’. As a Jewish-Israeli scholar Wind has constructed a text as a remarkable example of ally-ship.
That this is a ‘public secret’ reinforces the power of the analysis. My scholarly work for the last 30 or so years has included a significant strand that explores international campaigns focused on cultural and social boycotts and other sanctions, alongside many years work exploring the dynamics of settler colonialism. There is little in that time I have read that is as clear and convincing, and that relies on the words and explicit public actions of state authorities to make it case as Wind’s argument here – at least, that is, since the fall of South African apartheid in the 1990s. Wind’s evidence and case is compelling – meaning that although in some places this presents hard to deal with evidence, it is an essential piece in making sense of one of the most significant and demanding political questions of our current era.