I don't feel safe as a Palestinian UCL student with IHRA
The IHRA definition of antisemitism allows for the harassment and intimidation of Palestinian students and activists. UCL should replace it.
Source: Unsplash
University College London’s Academic Board is demanding the university replace the controversial IHRA working definition of antisemitism amid fears that it would silence criticism of the Israeli regime and infringe on freedom of speech. Hearing this brought me relief. UCL was one of the first UK universities to adopt the definition in a rush, since the Secretary of Education has threatened to cut funding to universities that fail to adopt the definition. As a UCL student, I was fuming. The definition had been popularly rejected by a 70 per cent student vote, and what I saw was a clamping down on student demands due to the government’s improper interference with universities’ autonomy and right to free speech.
The University and Colleges Union (UCU), UCL's academic trade union, welcomed the decision and described it as an "important moment" in its history. It’s important to understand the context behind this: the Board’s demand followed the publication of the most comprehensive report yet on the definition in December by a group of UCL academics who warned the definition conflates anti-Jewish prejudice with support for Palestinian rights and criticism of the Israeli regime, which may have “potentially deleterious effects on free speech, such as instigating a culture of fear or self-silencing on teaching or research or classroom discussion of contentious topics.”
Over a hundred pages long, a year’s worth of work, and containing detailed assessments of the definition’s various flaws, the major report is the latest example of many worldwide documented failures of the definition.
Incidents of the definition’s weaponisation for the harassment and intimidation of Palestinian rights activists continue to increase in UK universities. In my first month as a fresher at UCL, my friends and I walked through into the Octagon Gallery only to stumble upon an exhibit called “Moving Objects: Stories of Displacement”, showcasing possessions of Palestinian refugees and studying the meaning behind them. As a Palestinian grandson of refugees, my heart filled with appreciation. That moment was when I first felt home at UCL.
But it was also the moment I felt unsafe as a Palestinian student.
We met an organiser of the exhibit who mentioned the exhibit is facing a smear campaign for allegedly being “antisemitic”. My heart fell. I asked why and she pointed to one of the items in the exhibit; a traditionally embroidered map of historic Palestine with the Arabic names of Palestinian towns and cities, including one my family hails from. It reminded me of a similar embroidered map my grandparents — who themselves were refugees after being expelled by the Israeli government decades ago — had hanging in our kitchen back home. The allegation was that the map named the land Palestine, thereby “erasing” the existence of the State of Israel, which is allegedly antisemitic.
If you can’t even exhibit a refugee’s traditional possession of a map showing their love for their homeland without facing a campaign of harassment, intimidation, and blackmail, then, my mind wondered, what else could I not do? Was identifying as a Palestinian antisemitic? I mean, after all, identifying as Palestinian insinuates that I come from a land called Palestine. But if saying so “erases Israel” and is antisemitic, is my existence then a hate crime?
Looking back, this might have subconsciously informed my decision to introduce myself as Jordanian whenever someone asked where I’m from — probably the most common question asked at UCL. While I had Jordanian citizenship and lived most of my life in Jordan, it was a lie. I appreciate and love Jordan, but it’s not my homeland. Where I truly felt like I belong is Palestine — the land of my ancestors and people.
What does the IHRA definition have to do with this? The campaign targeting the refugee exhibit relied on a section of the definition classifying claims that “the existence of the State of Israel is a racist endeavour” as inherently antisemitic. I’m not writing this to convince you of a stance on the Palestinian Struggle. I do believe that Israel, like all colonial states in the world, is fundamentally racist, but that’s not what this is about.
It’s about a policy that demonises refugees, that harasses human rights advocates, that intimidates academics, and that, most of all, silences my family’s experiences. Because I cannot look at that exhibit without seeing my grandmother as a little girl at the UN schools in Tulkarem. I cannot look at that map without picturing my great-grandfather being thrown out of our family home in Ramlah by soldiers. And till today, I can’t walk through the Octagon Gallery without thinking of the life my grandfather was promised, as a boy in the emerald green hills of Atarah, that he never lived.
I genuinely feel compassion for my Jewish siblings. Antisemitism is rising. There have been too many antisemitic incidents at UCL — in my opinion, one incident is too many. And I know that when a fellow Jewish student is attacked, they also think of their ancestors, like I think of mine. It’s necessary we tackle antisemitism head-on and ensure all Jewish students and staff are safe. But we can never protect one community by making another feel unsafe. We can’t protect Jewish students by leaving Palestinian students vulnerable. That is why I was relieved to hear that UCL may be moving to create a new definition of antisemitism that protects our Jewish students without marginalising its Palestinian students.
After a year highlighting the necessity of social justice, in which UCL renamed buildings named after eugenicists, the recommendation to replace the IHRA definition is confirming UCL’s leading position as a global university home to disruptive thinking. It is unacceptable to protect one community by throwing another under the bus — a principle UCL seems to be embracing as other universities fail to do so. It is promising to see that in Dr Michael Spence’s first month as the newly appointed Provost, UCL is propelling principles of tolerance, academic autonomy, and freedom of speech.
Our movement is growing. Several progressive Jewish groups have become wary of Palestinians’ concerns and have suggested alternative definitions. On our side is the Reform Movement, representing the largest Jewish denomination in the U.S. and which has opposed the institutionalisation of the definition, and even the IHRA definition’s lead author, Kenneth Stern, who has said it “was never intended to be a campus hate speech code.”
UCL's Council will be voting on the Board's recommendations on February 18th. For the sake of my people, I pray they make the right decision.
Pi Opinion content does not necessarily reflect the views of the editorial team, Pi Media society, Students’ Union UCL or University College London. We aim to publish opinions from across the student body — if you read anything you would like to respond to, get in touch via email.