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Unsafe at MIT : A Chronicle of a Campus War on the Jews
For Jewish and Israeli students at MIT, the days and months following October 7 profoundly changed campus life. Campus corridors, which once reverberated with the voices of researchers discussing problems and sharing solutions, became an echo chamber of hostility and intimidation. For many students, the experience reshaped not only their education but also their sense of belonging at one of the world's leading universities.
Based on dozens of interviews and drawing on administration correspondence, social media posts, and television footage, this book tells the story of that transformation through the voices of those who lived it. Some of these events made national headlines, while others unfolded quietly in classrooms, residence halls, and student spaces. Together, they reveal how a global conflict reverberated through a campus community.
This oral history chronicles the multiple fronts that Jewish and Israeli students faced, including the fight for the truth, the fight against delegitimization, the fight against the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) campaign, and the fight against the erosion of law and order on campus. Their stories illuminate a broader institutional the erosion of MIT’s commitment to prioritizing innovation above dogma and the consequences that follow when a university abandons the standards that define it. Offering a firsthand account of a pivotal chapter in MIT's history, the book also explores the responsibilities institutions bear when the conditions necessary for learning, inquiry, and intellectual freedom are undermined.
Based on dozens of interviews and drawing on administration correspondence, social media posts, and television footage, this book tells the story of that transformation through the voices of those who lived it. Some of these events made national headlines, while others unfolded quietly in classrooms, residence halls, and student spaces. Together, they reveal how a global conflict reverberated through a campus community.
This oral history chronicles the multiple fronts that Jewish and Israeli students faced, including the fight for the truth, the fight against delegitimization, the fight against the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) campaign, and the fight against the erosion of law and order on campus. Their stories illuminate a broader institutional the erosion of MIT’s commitment to prioritizing innovation above dogma and the consequences that follow when a university abandons the standards that define it. Offering a firsthand account of a pivotal chapter in MIT's history, the book also explores the responsibilities institutions bear when the conditions necessary for learning, inquiry, and intellectual freedom are undermined.
226 pages, Kindle Edition
Published July 7, 2026
About the author
Yossi Sheffi
28 books24 followersProfessor Yossi Sheffi is Director of the MIT Center for Transportation & Logistics (MIT CTL), and Director and Founder of the Master of Engineering in Logistics Program. He is a faculty member of the MIT Civil and Environmental Engineering Department, as well as the Institute for Data, Systems, and Society. He is an expert in systems optimization, risk analysis and supply chain management and is the author of a text book Urban Transportation Networks: Equilibrium Analysis with Mathematical Programming Methods (1985) and four award-winning management books: : The Resilient Enterprise: Overcoming Vulnerability for Competitive Advantage (2005); Logistics Clusters: Delivering Value and Driving Growth (2012); The Power of Resilience: How the Best Companies Manage the Unexpected (2015); Balancing Green: When to Embrace Sustainability in Business (and When Not to) (2018). His latest book is The New (Ab)Normal: Reshaping Business and Supply Chain Strategy Beyond Covid-19 (October 2020).
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
October 24, 2026
A dear friend of Greek descent mentioned this book to me, and I knew immediately that I had to buy it. I vividly remembered the pro-Palestinian encampments at MIT and the astonishing congressional hearings during which the presidents of MIT, Harvard, and the University of Pennsylvania struggled to give unequivocal answers about whether calls for the genocide of Jews violated their universities’ codes of conduct. I remember watching in disbelief.
Now, having finished Yossi Sheffi’s UNSAFE AT MIT, I find myself even more disturbed—not merely by what happened on one of America’s most prestigious university campuses, but by the astonishing naïveté of some of the students, the failures of academic leadership, and the disturbing ease with which political ideology can overwhelm intellectual curiosity, historical understanding, and common decency.
Sheffi chronicles the atmosphere at MIT following the horrific Hamas terrorist attacks of October 7, 2023, and the subsequent campus demonstrations. What I found particularly troubling was the apparent inability—or unwillingness—of some student activists to distinguish between advocating for Palestinian rights and excusing, minimizing, or rationalizing atrocities committed against Israeli civilians.
One of the book’s most compelling accounts concerns Talia, the daughter of a Muslim Afghan father and a Jewish mother. She condemned the murder and kidnapping of civilians at the Nova Music Festival, only to encounter classmates who reportedly insisted that “everyone was guilty” simply for attending a celebration on what they called stolen land.
Talia’s response was profoundly moving:
“When this girl told me, straight-faced, that she believed it was acceptable to murder innocent people, I thought: there’s no more room for talking.”
How does an institution dedicated to scientific inquiry, logic, and intellectual excellence produce students capable of such extraordinary moral confusion?
Another observation captured my attention:
“Many protesters were stupid kids who didn’t know what they were chanting.”
Harsh words, certainly. But the underlying question deserves serious consideration. How many students chanting political slogans genuinely understand the historical complexities of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? How many have studied the competing national narratives, the wars, the failed negotiations, or the distinction between the Palestinian people and Hamas?
A Facebook commentary by Jerome Abrahamson, which I read while finishing this book, raised a question that stayed with me: What does “Free Palestine” actually mean?
For some, it means freedom, dignity, and self-determination for Palestinians. For others, it carries the far more troubling implication that Israel should cease to exist as a Jewish state.
Those are two fundamentally different propositions.
I believe Palestinians deserve freedom, security, dignity, and a future without oppression. Their suffering is real and cannot be dismissed. Likewise, Israelis deserve to live without terrorism, hostage-taking, and the constant threat of violence. Supporting Israel’s right to exist does not require defending every decision of its government, just as supporting Palestinian self-determination does not require supporting Hamas.
Abrahamson expressed one principle particularly well:
“Freedom shouldn’t require the destruction of another people.”
That sentiment should not be controversial. Yet reading Sheffi’s account, I was struck by how frequently moral distinctions seemed to disappear beneath slogans, intimidation, and ideological conformity.
Another passage that resonated with me concerned the purpose of attending MIT:
“What we want is peace. We did not come to MIT for any political reason; we came to do science.”
Imagine that! Students enrolling at one of the world’s great scientific institutions because they actually want to study science, pursue discoveries, and contribute something meaningful to humanity.
And yet the campus atmosphere described in this book left some students and faculty feeling intimidated, ostracized, or pressured to explain their identities and political beliefs.
Sheffi also examines the role of university leadership, particularly during moments of crisis. One passage deserves to be framed and placed in every university president’s office:
“Effective leadership, especially in moments of crisis, requires shaping the room before the room shapes you.”
Leadership is not simply accommodating the loudest voices. It requires judgment, moral clarity, consistency, and the courage to enforce standards even when doing so is unpopular.
The book also raises provocative questions about foreign financial influence in American higher education, particularly connections involving Qatar. Sheffi describes investments, institutional relationships, and concerns about transparency. These allegations deserve careful scrutiny rather than automatic acceptance or dismissal. The broader question is legitimate: Can universities remain intellectually independent when enormous financial relationships potentially create competing institutional interests?
One especially troubling theme was the apparent selectivity of campus outrage.
Why did certain atrocities ignite massive demonstrations while other humanitarian catastrophes—the persecution of Uyghurs in China, the suffering of Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar, the slaughter of Syrians under Assad, and violence against civilians elsewhere—receive comparatively little attention from the same activists?
Of course, students cannot be expected to protest every injustice in the world. But the inconsistency invites examination, particularly when demonstrations targeting Israel sometimes cross the line into hostility toward Jewish students and faculty.
As Sheffi observes, antisemitism has historically been a warning sign of societies losing their moral bearings. His comparisons with darker chapters of history are unsettling, but they challenge readers to consider how prejudice can become normalized when institutions fail to confront it.
Perhaps one of the saddest observations concerns young people who join movements without questioning their motives or consequences, seeking camaraderie and belonging rather than knowledge. There is nothing wrong with youthful idealism or peaceful protest. Indeed, universities should encourage principled disagreement. But idealism without critical thinking can become something far less admirable.
I was particularly taken by the sentiment of a biotechnology doctoral student who wanted nothing more than to concentrate on science rather than be consumed by the political turmoil surrounding him. His frustration felt painfully human.
Another passage offered a remarkably simple perspective on coexistence:
“In Massachusetts, when someone asks me where I’m from and I say Israel, I can see the tension in the other person’s face. I don’t know what to call it—this thing in the air. But I don’t want it to be part of my life.”
Neither would I.
The book also recounts the experiences of Jewish and Israeli faculty who found themselves repeatedly defending their identities, their positions, and their right to participate fully in academic life. Academic boycotts and collective suspicion do not advance peace. They undermine the very principles of scholarship and intellectual exchange.
One Israeli father, speaking about his son’s experience at MIT, offered a memorable observation about confronting antisemitism:
“The other solution to antisemitism is to be so good that you can’t be avoided.”
There is dignity in that sentiment, although no one should have to prove exceptional worth merely to be treated with respect.
What ultimately troubled me most was the suggestion that the pursuit of truth had become subordinate to political allegiance. When students stop asking questions, when administrators hesitate to enforce their own rules, and when intimidation replaces debate, something essential to higher education has been lost.
Universities should teach students HOW to think, not WHAT to think.
That, for me, is the central lesson of UNSAFE AT MIT.
I recognize that Sheffi writes from a particular perspective, and this book is not intended to be an exhaustive, neutral history of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Readers should approach its interpretations and allegations critically, as they should any politically charged work. But that does not diminish the seriousness of the experiences he documents or the questions he raises.
The final sentiment I underlined was one of hope:
“We must take the outrage and the heartache as an opportunity to revitalize our community and flourish.”
I hope that is possible.
I give UNSAFE AT MIT 4½ stars because it is an illuminating, disturbing, and often heartbreaking examination of what can happen when academic institutions lose their moral compass. Above all, I was astonished by the naïveté of students who appeared so certain of their righteousness while displaying so little curiosity about the complexities of the conflict they were protesting.
I closed the book thinking about the difference between education and indoctrination, between protest and intimidation, and between genuine compassion and ideological performance.
And I was left with one conviction:
The pursuit of justice must never require the abandonment of truth, compassion, or our common humanity.
Now, having finished Yossi Sheffi’s UNSAFE AT MIT, I find myself even more disturbed—not merely by what happened on one of America’s most prestigious university campuses, but by the astonishing naïveté of some of the students, the failures of academic leadership, and the disturbing ease with which political ideology can overwhelm intellectual curiosity, historical understanding, and common decency.
Sheffi chronicles the atmosphere at MIT following the horrific Hamas terrorist attacks of October 7, 2023, and the subsequent campus demonstrations. What I found particularly troubling was the apparent inability—or unwillingness—of some student activists to distinguish between advocating for Palestinian rights and excusing, minimizing, or rationalizing atrocities committed against Israeli civilians.
One of the book’s most compelling accounts concerns Talia, the daughter of a Muslim Afghan father and a Jewish mother. She condemned the murder and kidnapping of civilians at the Nova Music Festival, only to encounter classmates who reportedly insisted that “everyone was guilty” simply for attending a celebration on what they called stolen land.
Talia’s response was profoundly moving:
“When this girl told me, straight-faced, that she believed it was acceptable to murder innocent people, I thought: there’s no more room for talking.”
How does an institution dedicated to scientific inquiry, logic, and intellectual excellence produce students capable of such extraordinary moral confusion?
Another observation captured my attention:
“Many protesters were stupid kids who didn’t know what they were chanting.”
Harsh words, certainly. But the underlying question deserves serious consideration. How many students chanting political slogans genuinely understand the historical complexities of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? How many have studied the competing national narratives, the wars, the failed negotiations, or the distinction between the Palestinian people and Hamas?
A Facebook commentary by Jerome Abrahamson, which I read while finishing this book, raised a question that stayed with me: What does “Free Palestine” actually mean?
For some, it means freedom, dignity, and self-determination for Palestinians. For others, it carries the far more troubling implication that Israel should cease to exist as a Jewish state.
Those are two fundamentally different propositions.
I believe Palestinians deserve freedom, security, dignity, and a future without oppression. Their suffering is real and cannot be dismissed. Likewise, Israelis deserve to live without terrorism, hostage-taking, and the constant threat of violence. Supporting Israel’s right to exist does not require defending every decision of its government, just as supporting Palestinian self-determination does not require supporting Hamas.
Abrahamson expressed one principle particularly well:
“Freedom shouldn’t require the destruction of another people.”
That sentiment should not be controversial. Yet reading Sheffi’s account, I was struck by how frequently moral distinctions seemed to disappear beneath slogans, intimidation, and ideological conformity.
Another passage that resonated with me concerned the purpose of attending MIT:
“What we want is peace. We did not come to MIT for any political reason; we came to do science.”
Imagine that! Students enrolling at one of the world’s great scientific institutions because they actually want to study science, pursue discoveries, and contribute something meaningful to humanity.
And yet the campus atmosphere described in this book left some students and faculty feeling intimidated, ostracized, or pressured to explain their identities and political beliefs.
Sheffi also examines the role of university leadership, particularly during moments of crisis. One passage deserves to be framed and placed in every university president’s office:
“Effective leadership, especially in moments of crisis, requires shaping the room before the room shapes you.”
Leadership is not simply accommodating the loudest voices. It requires judgment, moral clarity, consistency, and the courage to enforce standards even when doing so is unpopular.
The book also raises provocative questions about foreign financial influence in American higher education, particularly connections involving Qatar. Sheffi describes investments, institutional relationships, and concerns about transparency. These allegations deserve careful scrutiny rather than automatic acceptance or dismissal. The broader question is legitimate: Can universities remain intellectually independent when enormous financial relationships potentially create competing institutional interests?
One especially troubling theme was the apparent selectivity of campus outrage.
Why did certain atrocities ignite massive demonstrations while other humanitarian catastrophes—the persecution of Uyghurs in China, the suffering of Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar, the slaughter of Syrians under Assad, and violence against civilians elsewhere—receive comparatively little attention from the same activists?
Of course, students cannot be expected to protest every injustice in the world. But the inconsistency invites examination, particularly when demonstrations targeting Israel sometimes cross the line into hostility toward Jewish students and faculty.
As Sheffi observes, antisemitism has historically been a warning sign of societies losing their moral bearings. His comparisons with darker chapters of history are unsettling, but they challenge readers to consider how prejudice can become normalized when institutions fail to confront it.
Perhaps one of the saddest observations concerns young people who join movements without questioning their motives or consequences, seeking camaraderie and belonging rather than knowledge. There is nothing wrong with youthful idealism or peaceful protest. Indeed, universities should encourage principled disagreement. But idealism without critical thinking can become something far less admirable.
I was particularly taken by the sentiment of a biotechnology doctoral student who wanted nothing more than to concentrate on science rather than be consumed by the political turmoil surrounding him. His frustration felt painfully human.
Another passage offered a remarkably simple perspective on coexistence:
“In Massachusetts, when someone asks me where I’m from and I say Israel, I can see the tension in the other person’s face. I don’t know what to call it—this thing in the air. But I don’t want it to be part of my life.”
Neither would I.
The book also recounts the experiences of Jewish and Israeli faculty who found themselves repeatedly defending their identities, their positions, and their right to participate fully in academic life. Academic boycotts and collective suspicion do not advance peace. They undermine the very principles of scholarship and intellectual exchange.
One Israeli father, speaking about his son’s experience at MIT, offered a memorable observation about confronting antisemitism:
“The other solution to antisemitism is to be so good that you can’t be avoided.”
There is dignity in that sentiment, although no one should have to prove exceptional worth merely to be treated with respect.
What ultimately troubled me most was the suggestion that the pursuit of truth had become subordinate to political allegiance. When students stop asking questions, when administrators hesitate to enforce their own rules, and when intimidation replaces debate, something essential to higher education has been lost.
Universities should teach students HOW to think, not WHAT to think.
That, for me, is the central lesson of UNSAFE AT MIT.
I recognize that Sheffi writes from a particular perspective, and this book is not intended to be an exhaustive, neutral history of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Readers should approach its interpretations and allegations critically, as they should any politically charged work. But that does not diminish the seriousness of the experiences he documents or the questions he raises.
The final sentiment I underlined was one of hope:
“We must take the outrage and the heartache as an opportunity to revitalize our community and flourish.”
I hope that is possible.
I give UNSAFE AT MIT 4½ stars because it is an illuminating, disturbing, and often heartbreaking examination of what can happen when academic institutions lose their moral compass. Above all, I was astonished by the naïveté of students who appeared so certain of their righteousness while displaying so little curiosity about the complexities of the conflict they were protesting.
I closed the book thinking about the difference between education and indoctrination, between protest and intimidation, and between genuine compassion and ideological performance.
And I was left with one conviction:
The pursuit of justice must never require the abandonment of truth, compassion, or our common humanity.
September 18, 2026
Twenty five years after 9/11, it's crucial to remember that extremism can have horrific consequences. This sobering book reminds us that hate can spread quickly through groups of seemingly intelligent people.
The protests that erupted on college campuses across the U.S. after October 7th were hard to watch. Though some of us looked deeper than the curated narratives that most news channels showed, no one really knew what went on behind the scenes. Now, thanks to the brilliant reporting of MIT professor and entrepreneur Yossi Sheffi, the details of one university's disturbing management of the conflicts are revealed.
Sheffi draws on interviews of dozens of students. He documents every claim he makes with evidence, adding footnotes on each page. His analysis of the testimony of MIT president Sally Kornbluth is grim, as are his interactions with colleagues and other campus personnel. Sheffi's analytical skills are impeccable; it's clear that he has worked in research for over 50 years.
As we continue to mourn the thousands of lives lost on 9/11, we also hold the victims of 10/7 in our hearts. All were murdered by monsters who did not value life. The two tragedies happened thousands of miles apart but are tied to the same toxic ideology.
We must continue to fight for truth in a world where it's not always easy. This remarkable book is a validation of the ways academia failed our students, teachers, and anyone affected by the awful aftermath of 10/7. It highlights the courageous people who continue to stand up to evil.
The protests that erupted on college campuses across the U.S. after October 7th were hard to watch. Though some of us looked deeper than the curated narratives that most news channels showed, no one really knew what went on behind the scenes. Now, thanks to the brilliant reporting of MIT professor and entrepreneur Yossi Sheffi, the details of one university's disturbing management of the conflicts are revealed.
Sheffi draws on interviews of dozens of students. He documents every claim he makes with evidence, adding footnotes on each page. His analysis of the testimony of MIT president Sally Kornbluth is grim, as are his interactions with colleagues and other campus personnel. Sheffi's analytical skills are impeccable; it's clear that he has worked in research for over 50 years.
As we continue to mourn the thousands of lives lost on 9/11, we also hold the victims of 10/7 in our hearts. All were murdered by monsters who did not value life. The two tragedies happened thousands of miles apart but are tied to the same toxic ideology.
We must continue to fight for truth in a world where it's not always easy. This remarkable book is a validation of the ways academia failed our students, teachers, and anyone affected by the awful aftermath of 10/7. It highlights the courageous people who continue to stand up to evil.
August 4, 2026
Important Eyewitness Account
Yossi Sheffi, a 50 year professor of engineering at MIT and founder and head of its Center for Transportation Logistics, has written an important eyewitness account of the demonstrations and discord that roiled the MIT campus after the events of October 7.
This is not a detached, academic account. Sheffi is an unapologetic defender and partisan of Jewish and Israeli students and faculty at MIT. But his account is an important piece of the story and illustrates how American campus protests over the Israeli invasion of Gaza acquired antisemitic overtones.
Readers will no doubt counter Sheffi’s narrative, contending that he got the MIT story wrong and that Arab, Palestinian and Muslim students on U.S. campuses suffered as a result of October 7. These are legitimate reactions, and I hope that supporters of pro-Palestinian students and faculty at MIT publish their own accounts. Such narratives are the first draft of history and provide valuable perspectives on the repercussions of October 7 and its aftermath.
Yossi Sheffi, a 50 year professor of engineering at MIT and founder and head of its Center for Transportation Logistics, has written an important eyewitness account of the demonstrations and discord that roiled the MIT campus after the events of October 7.
This is not a detached, academic account. Sheffi is an unapologetic defender and partisan of Jewish and Israeli students and faculty at MIT. But his account is an important piece of the story and illustrates how American campus protests over the Israeli invasion of Gaza acquired antisemitic overtones.
Readers will no doubt counter Sheffi’s narrative, contending that he got the MIT story wrong and that Arab, Palestinian and Muslim students on U.S. campuses suffered as a result of October 7. These are legitimate reactions, and I hope that supporters of pro-Palestinian students and faculty at MIT publish their own accounts. Such narratives are the first draft of history and provide valuable perspectives on the repercussions of October 7 and its aftermath.
September 7, 2026
A bleak survey of hate and violence at a once great institution
MIT could have responded to hate against Jewish and Israeli students and staff by enforcing its rules and striving to educate. Instead it allowed encampments, occupations, and targeting of students and staff for their identities. This vital book documents the campaign of intimidation and the weak and ill-organized response by President Kornbluh. Thanks to her fecklessness, hate has a home at MIT
MIT could have responded to hate against Jewish and Israeli students and staff by enforcing its rules and striving to educate. Instead it allowed encampments, occupations, and targeting of students and staff for their identities. This vital book documents the campaign of intimidation and the weak and ill-organized response by President Kornbluh. Thanks to her fecklessness, hate has a home at MIT
August 17, 2026
Written with care, factual without exaggeration or hyperbole. I found this illuminating, courageous and so sad.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews