What is going on at Indiana University at Bloomington? Two recent stories, the first reported by Kathryn Palmer in Inside Higher Ed and the second by Zachary Small in The New York Times, suggest that something like a formal “Palestine exception” to academic freedom is being introduced in Indiana. Palmer reports that Abdulkader Sinno, a political scientist, was suspended for two terms after booking a room for a campus talk by Miko Peled, an Israeli-American activist who advocates for a one-state solution and is critical of Israeli policy toward the Palestinians. And Small reports that Samia Halaby, an 87-year-old Palestinian artist, had her “first American retrospective ... abruptly canceled by officials at Indiana University in recent weeks.”
The political content of Peled’s talk, and the fact that it was hosted by the Palestine Solidarity Committee, a student group critical of Israel, were not the reasons given by administrators for Sinno’s punishment. His official sins were all bureaucratic ones concerning the process by which rooms are reserved at Indiana. Sinno’s not buying it: “The administration couldn’t find a single policy violation to leverage against me, so they made up a hodgepodge of frivolous accusations without merit as a pretext to impose severe sanctions on me,” he told IHE. The university’s actions sound a lot like what Suzanne Nossel, in our pages, called “proxy reprisals,” trumped-up non-speech-based charges used to discipline faculty members who have run afoul of one or another taboo. A petition circulated by Indiana faculty members objecting to Sinno’s suspension likewise finds it to be a “pretextual and unwarranted punishment.”
In the Halaby case, administrators offered no reason at all for the retrospective’s last-minute cancellation, unless you can locate a reason in this piece of gobbledygook produced by Mark Bode, a university spokesman: “Academic leaders and campus officials canceled the exhibit due to concerns about guaranteeing the integrity of the exhibit for its duration.” David Brenneman, director of the university’s Eskenazi Museum of Art, where the retrospective was to have been held, gave Halaby a more specific explanation: Some of the museum’s employees, Brenneman said, had expressed concern about Halaby’s Instagram posts, which include phrases like “HIROSHIMA / NAGASAKI / GAZA” and “GAZA equalls [sic] AUSCHWITZ.”
IU’s treatment of Sinno and Halaby might seem to reflect its leaders’ fear of political reprisals. In November of last year, U.S. Rep. Jim Banks, an Indiana Republican, sent IU-Bloomington’s president, Pamela Whitten, a letter threatening to withhold federal funding “if IU administrators condone or tolerate campus antisemitism.” The letter includes only one instance of alleged antisemitic harassment: A campus “vandal ripped mezuzahs, a Jewish symbol, off IU students’ dorm doors” in 2022. All of Banks’s other objections are to instances of plainly protected political speech having to do with Israel and Palestine.
The darkest irony of December’s congressional hearing on campus antisemitism is that under the sign of a concern for free speech, some Republicans are in fact working to introduce fierce new constraints on what can be said on public college campuses. In response to Banks’s threats, Whitten and her administration might remind him of what his fellow Republican, Rep. Joe Wilson of South Carolina, said during that hearing: “The solution for close-minded intolerance is obvious: to liberate academia from denial of free speech, respecting the First Amendment.”