September-October 2006

 http://www.theacademyvillage.com

Reflections


We invited discussion of the Committee A report “On Academic Boycotts” to encourage broader understanding of our perspective and not with the expectation that we would materially change our recommendations. We also anticipated disagreement and hoped that careful attention to counterarguments would assist us in clarifying our conclusions and making them more persuasive. Though we regret the lack of opportunity for dialogue the planned conference would have provided, we believe that the exchange of views in the papers we have received, including the papers of those who asked that we not publish their essays, contributed to both objectives.

The political contention surrounding our efforts to hold the conference arose from differences regarding the competing claims of Israelis and Palestinians, not over the issue of academic boycotts. We certainly do not disagree with those who contend that faculty should engage the Israeli-Palestinian debate. One reason for our support of academic freedom is that it enables faculty and students to express their views on contentious moral and political issues. I do not, however, focus these reflections on the Middle East, because, in writing on behalf of the AAUP, my primary concern is academic freedom and, although the principle of academic freedom provides an important foundation for the free exploration of contentious issues, it does not in itself offer guidance for their substantive resolution.

Limitations on Academic Freedom

One counterargument, explored in some of the papers, maintains that the principle of academic freedom does in itself offer guidance in those instances in which academic freedom has been violated. In these instances, the argument continues, academic freedom may rightly be denied to those who deny academic freedom to others. We understand clearly that academic freedom may be denied through state or corporate as well as institutional actions, and we agree that academic freedom cannot fairly be invoked to protect those who so abuse it. Advocates of academic freedom should, on the contrary, expose and criticize or censure those, including academics and their institutions, who deny academic freedom to others. We disagree only with regard to the remedy. As an organization fundamentally committed to academic freedom, the AAUP cannot, consistent with our principles, adopt a remedy such as the academic boycott that directly curtails academic freedom.

Our rejection of this specific sanction certainly does not mean, as some suggest, that we recognize no limits to academic expression. Although Europeans understandably associate our view of academic freedom with American individualism and the unusually broad latitude the First Amendment affords to individual political speech, the AAUP has never maintained that academic freedom is the unrestricted right of individuals to teach, research, and communicate as they please. In the words of our founders in 1915: “There may, undoubtedly, arise occasional cases in which the aberrations of individuals may require to be checked by definite disciplinary action . . . . It is, in short, not the absolute freedom of utterance of the individual scholar, but the absolute freedom of thought, of inquiry, of discussion and of teaching, of the academic profession, that is asserted by this declaration of principles.”1 The limitations imposed by our professional responsibilities and subject to review by professional colleagues do not, however, include limitations based upon political, moral, or religious differences—including even such highly offensive statements as those referenced in the preceding papers. AAUP members can and do take positions on many such matters, but the AAUP as an organization recognizes only those limits on academic freedom that are inherent in our professional responsibilities and would impose no others.

Several critics assert that the AAUP perspective entails the untenable view that academic freedom is more important than broadly recognized fundamental human rights and moral principles. This argument again confuses our view of the problem with our view of the remedy. As our critics note, we ourselves defend academic freedom on the basis that it benefits society. So, of course, we recognize the priority of broadly applicable human rights and obligations in identifying social goods and problems. We simply argue that it is unnecessary, and therefore wrong, to violate the principle of academic freedom to achieve such social goods. When, for example, we refer to academic boycotts as a tactic, not a principle, we do not mean to imply that academic boycotts are one of the legitimate means to achieve higher ends. We mean rather that academic boycotts, because they are merely tactics and not inherently required to achieve higher ends, should be rejected in favor of alternative tactics that do not entail unnecessary violations of basic principles.

We believe further that the use of academic freedom to expand rather than to curtail academic freedom is not only principled but effective in practice. The universities did contribute to the critique of apartheid in South Africa. The actual limits on expression in Israeli and Palestinian universities are here in dispute, but thoughtful critique is evident on both sides. We would seek to encourage rather than circumscribe expression. Two recent articles offer pertinent examples of the benefits of encouraging even the limited range of academic discourse in Chile during the Pinochet dictatorship and in China today.2 These essays, though describing radically different circumstances, agree in their observation that academic settings provide opportunities for political discourse unavailable in the larger society. Both emphasize as well the benefits realized through scholarly exchange that would not exist were an academic boycott effectively enforced.

Several critics suggest that we fail to recognize that universities are subject to and, indeed, themselves contribute to the various political and economic controversies or abuses of the societies in which the universities are deeply enmeshed. But this notion of the “corporate” university is not novel, and AAUP policy is rooted in the recognition of such dangers. The authors of the 1915 Declaration observed, “In the political, social, and economic field almost every question . . . is more or less affected by private or class interests; and, as the governing body of a university is naturally made up of men who through their standing and ability are personally interested in great private enterprises, the points of possible conflict are numberless.” Nor do the authors fail to observe the equal threats that arise from “strong public feeling” and the “tyranny of public opinion.”3 These dangers are, of course, the very reasons why systematic protection of academic freedom is necessary. Restraints on academic freedom, on the other hand, will far more often reflect the prevailing powers than curtail them.

This argument responds as well to the contention that the principle of academic freedom does not ensure the rights of those denied its exercise by reason of the disadvantages of class, race, gender, or colonial or military domination. Mere assertion of formal rights may indeed fail to remedy and may even serve to cloak such domination. But, once again, curtailment of academic freedom will more likely benefit the powerful than the powerless. Where more powerful interests are prepared to support the disadvantaged, they can better accomplish this purpose, and avoid setting a dangerous precedent, by extending academic freedom to those who lack it than they can by denying it to those who have it. For this reason, AAUP policy rejects the argument that academic freedom should be curtailed through limitations on hateful speech, while supporting policies against discrimination. Indeed, AAUP policies with respect to investigation and censure assign complaints of discrimination the same status and invoke the same procedural resolution as complaints of direct violations of academic freedom.

Others argue that the academic boycott has the virtue that it may be invoked, like a strike, by a substantial proportion of those who will be subject to its effects. So, it both provides a weapon for those whose rights have been curtailed and rests on self-determination. We reject this argument, and not only because of the obvious fact that it constrains their colleagues and denies their selfdetermination. We reject it also because we do not believe that the faculty have the right to waive even their own academic freedom. Faculty at institutions subject to censure investigation are all too often prepared to acquiesce in, and to seek to justify, the practices that have occasioned investigation. The AAUP has always sought in such cases to act based on the principles of academic freedom, not the interests of the specific faculty, even where these faculty are our members. If faculty have sufficient freedom to advocate a boycott, we believe they might better employ that freedom to expose and work against the abuses they seek to correct.

International Complexities

The issue of international academic boycotts does add complications beyond those that arise in the case of domestic academic boycotts. First, some argue that in the international setting the academic boycott is not only commendably nonviolent but the best tactic specifically available to faculty in circumstances where strong violations of rights oblige action. We think rather that the use of academic freedom to identify, publicize, and condemn violations of human rights is a better course. We believe that academic freedom is given us not so that we may deny it to some but so that we may encourage it for all.

But how are we to do so? The AAUP lacks the knowledge and resources requisite to the conduct of international investigations comparable to the careful inquiries that we require prior to approving censure resolutions affecting institutions (including some overseas universities and academic programs) accredited in the United States. Were we to have this capacity, however, we would still opt for censure rather than boycott as we do domestically. Moreover, although we cannot do so with the same authority we strive to bring to domestic matters, our staff and members do speak out from time to time regarding perceived violations of academic freedom abroad. Further, we vigorously encourage international academic exchange and oppose those domestic policies that impede it.

Second, the South African example persuades some that the academic boycott has been and can be used by the relatively empowered in some countries to assist those who are in need in other countries. This argument, and not the controversial contention that Israeli policies materially approximate apartheid, led us to include substantial discussion of South Africa in our report.4 Empirically, we find the case that the economic and cultural boycotts contributed to the end of apartheid more persuasive than the case for the academic boycott. We know of no one who would seriously argue that apartheid would have persisted absent the academic boycott. We are also mindful of the evidence presented to us that the academic boycott did do harm to some South African universities and students.

Third, some look beyond South Africa to propose the general principle that boycotts may be appropriate when a regime so affronts humankind that it creates a nearuniversal consensus in support of a boycott. This is a dangerous concept because, as I think is manifest in a few of the assertions in the papers here, it encourages boycott advocates to demonize their opponents, in order to try to create the consensus necessary to legitimize the boycott. Nor is there a clear and universal principle on which to base such a finding. The primary suggested principle, the breadth of international consensus, ignores the complex politics that shape votes in the UN General Assembly and other such bodies. Moreover, the most persuasive example, especially compelling for those who oppose a boycott of Israel but are unwilling to abandon the tactic entirely, is Nazi Germany. The difficulty with this example is its history. When the democratic powers had the opportunity to engage in an economic and cultural boycott of Nazi Germany, they chose instead to participate in Hitler’s Olympic spectacle and simultaneously to impose an embargo on an elected Spanish government then under attack by military insurgents armed and assisted by Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy. The point of this example is not simply that the Western powers erred but rather that the geopolitical considerations of powerful political realists are more likely than academic principles to determine the effectiveness of international boycotts.

Conversely, those who have supported the concept of an academic boycott, with a view to its application to Israel, should note that within a year the weak and abortive effort by some English academics to mandate an academic boycott of two Israeli universities was replaced by a far more robust Western alliance to curtail funding to the Palestinian Authority. This example, as well as that of Nazi Germany, suggests that the unusual circumstances of the South African case do not provide a reliable guide to the likely direction of influential boycotts. The acquiescence of powerful interests in the boycott of South Africa depended on unique factors including the history of imperial contention between English and Afrikaner, on the one hand, and cold war contention for influence in tropical Africa, on the other. Universal support for academic freedom seems to us, in general, a more reliable principle than a selective denial of academic freedom that is at least as likely to be misapplied in the interests of the powerful. We think, for example, of the U.S. government’s restrictions on academic exchanges with Cuba or of the readiness of authoritarian regimes to weaken international statements on academic freedom and human rights in the interests of protecting their domestic power.

Alternatives to the Academic Boycott

We reject without qualification the contention that academic boycotts against specific institutions may be employed as a sanction to protest the actions of a regime. But what response is appropriate when an institution uses the opportunities afforded it by academic freedom to contribute to the oppressive activities of its country’s regime? We have thus far encouraged exposure and censure rather than academic boycott, but are there also forms of noncooperation short of the academic boycott that might be acceptable?

In our original statement we recognized that individuals might choose on personal or professional grounds not to cooperate with institutions whose practices offend them. Encouraging others to join in systematic noncooperation would clearly constitute a boycott. On the other hand, alerting others to the unprofessional conduct of the institution or its denial of academic freedom would certainly remain within the bounds we refer to as censure. When the AAUP invokes censure, we do not call upon individuals to take specific actions against the offending institution. Rather, we leave it to individuals to decide for themselves, based upon their understanding of the specifics of the case, what consequences the censure should have upon their own professional decisions. We do so with the understanding that this might lead some individuals to choose to avoid cooperation with the censured institution, but we do not seek to enforce or even encourage noncooperation. This voluntary system depends upon our provision of a reliable and comprehensive report that individuals may consult in making their own decisions. Opponents of boycotts fear that the right to individual noncooperation opens the way to boycotts. Nonetheless, we cannot argue that faculty should not act on or express their professional concern about offending institutions or warn colleagues or prospective students of possible academic or professional failings. Censure has always entailed both the warning and the prospect that some individuals will act on it. Regardless, censure differs sharply from political boycotts in that we have employed censure only in support of academic freedom and professional standards. Disguising a political critique as an academic or professional one would be as unacceptable as prevarication in professional matters generally. Finally, censure is directed at the administration or governing authority of an institution and not directed at the faculty individually or collectively.

Some boycott advocates take our argument a step further and suggest that, even when granting that an academic boycott is unacceptable, the denial of membership by academic associations and consortia for certain universities would be acceptable. This argument is difficult to resist since we can no more deny a consortium’s freedom of association than an individual’s freedom of speech and most academic consortia are, in fact, selective. Accordingly, we have recognized that groups of academics need not cooperate with others with whom they disagree. We would caution, however, that the use of political rather than academic and professional criteria for such selection will likely violate academic freedom just as would the use of a political litmus test in determining whom to boycott. Moreover, we are more inclined to recommend reaching out to include those whose rights have been curtailed than risking politically compromised exclusion.

We have rejected the argument that academic boycotts may be legitimate in extreme cases. But what of the related argument that the boycott may be necessary to prevent wars of aggression, genocide, and other crimes against humanity? Clearly, more than an academic boycott is required in such circumstances, but might not such a boycott play a role? In fact, many regimes, as well as international agreements, limit the exchange of information, including academic information, that might contribute to the development of weapons of mass destruction. The AAUP has long understood that certain research procedures or findings need to be kept secret, as in the manufacture of nuclear weapons. We have also maintained, however, that restrictions of this sort should be applied only in exceptional circumstances. These limitations should not extend to so-called dangerous ideas. The best academic response to such ideas is wellconstructed counter argument.

Finally, we have been asked repeatedly why we accept economic boycotts, which may have much broader repercussions than academic boycotts and may, in practice, constrain academic opportunities and exchange. The simple answer is that the AAUP’s concerns are academic and we do not presume to legislate beyond our mandate. The more complex and principled response is that the distinction between academic and economic boycotts is a subset of the difficult but necessary distinction between speech and action on which arguments for free speech depend. Our purpose is not to endorse economic boycotts, but simply to urge that, even when such boycotts are found necessary, continuation of academic communication should be maintained to the extent possible. Nor do we counsel inaction in the face of great wrongs. We believe rather that, even in circumstances that call for punitive action, academics can contribute more by preserving and exercising than by curtailing the free exchange of ideas.¨

Notes

1. AAUP, “1915 Declaration of Principles on Academic Freedom and Tenure,” Policy Documents and Reports, 9th ed. (Washington, D.C., 2001), 300.

2. Jorge Heine, “Democracy, Dictatorship, and the Making of Modern Political Science: Huntington’s Thesis and Pinochet’s Chile,” PS: Political Science and Politics 39, no. 2 (April 2006): 273-80. Daniel A. Bell, “Teaching Political Theory in Beijing,” Dissent 53 (Spring 2006): 9–17.

3. 1915 Declaration of Principles, 297.

4. I found the following two critical assessments of the application of the terms apartheid to Israel comprehensive and thoughtful: (1) John Strawson, “Zionism and Apartheid: The Analogy in the Politics of International Law,” Engage, Issue 2 (May 2006): http://www.engageonline.org.uk/journal/index/php?journal_id=10&article_id=34 and (2) Suzie Jacobs, “On Israel = Apartheid,” http://www.engageonline.org.uk/archives/index.php?id=12.