Unveiling the Chilly Climate: How Pro-Palestine Speech is Suppressed in Canadian Universities

Sheryl Nestel

None of us could have known when we submitted our proposed presentations for the first meeting of the Institute for Critical Studies of Zionism that we would be gathering in the wake of a seismic upheaval in the geopolitics of Palestine/Israel unleashed by the events of October 7, 2023. While we cannot know where this will ultimately lead, it is a fair bet that Israel will carry out unimaginable violence against the inhabitants of Gaza as retribution for Hamas’ actions. It is also likely that we can expect an intensification of repression of speech and activism on behalf of Palestinian liberation and a concomitant escalation in the weaponization of antisemitism against the Palestine solidarity movement. What I am able to contribute in this uncertain moment is a snapshot of the baseline measure of pre-October 7 repression. Needless to say, we will need to monitor how this repression will be expanded and accelerated in the days, months and years to come. 

In early 2021, as the intensification of harassment, intimidation, and even litigation against Palestine solidarity activists intensified in the wake of the Israeli attack on Gaza, Independent Jewish Voices Canada (IJVC) undertook a major research project documenting how these tactics were creating a “chilling effect” on advocacy for Palestine, particularly in academia.¹ The motivation to do this research was also sparked by the aggressive campaign being carried out by pro-Israel groups in Canada for the adoption of the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance Working Definition of Antisemitism (IHRA WDA), a document that has come under vigorous attack by defenders of academic freedom and activists for Palestinian human rights.² While its proponents argue that the IHRA definition does not threaten freedom of expression or inhibit criticism of Israeli policies, IJVC’s research findings demonstrate that this claim is far from the truth.

IJVC was inspired by a 2016 study by 100 American anthropologists whose work focuses on societies in the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) – a notable exception to the dearth of ethnographic research in that area. In their study, MENA anthropologists Lara Deeb and Jessica Winegar describe the impact of “compulsory Zionism”³ as the normative political stance expected of academics.⁴ 

We are seeing a proliferation of research of this kind by civil society organizations, such as the work of Palestine Legal and two recent reports issued by the European Support Centre on the uses of the IHRA in Europe, including their most recent publication produced with The British Society for Middle East Studies (BRISMES).⁵  

In Canada we have seen dozens of high-profile attacks on activists and academics who have spoken out about Israeli violence and Palestinian dispossession. However, public recrimination represents only part of the story. What has emerged from our research is evidence of the vastly consequential and largely obscured “chilling effect” upon teaching, knowledge production and activism related to the struggle for justice for Palestine. 

While the “chilling effect” is interpreted in law as the act of self-censorship in response to a fear of legal reprisal or harm, in this report we embraced a broader interpretation of this term which concludes that the chilling effect is not just a deterrent but actually shapes public speech and research in ways that guarantee conformity to social norms, in this case, compulsory Zionism.⁶

THE DATA

Our research model draws on decolonizing methodologies of social science research which seek to challenge institutions, academic and otherwise, that prioritize colonial forms of knowledge production and maintain institutional commitments which impede indigenous self-determination. We followed the direction of queer, feminist, and antiracist research methodologies which entreat us to consider how our positions in social hierarchies of gender, race, class, sexuality, and citizenship mediate our experiences.⁷ We also felt the imperative to bolster the report’s credibility by soliciting endorsements for the report from prominent pro-Palestine academics worldwide.

In all, we collected 77 testimonies from 40 faculty members, 23 students, 7 activists and 7 representatives of organizations. Testimonies came from participants working at 21 universities in 7 provinces. They represented eleven disciplines and 82% occupy tenured or tenure-track academic positions. 

Approximately half of the participants submitted an anonymous online  questionnaire, while the remaining testimonies were gathered from interviews conducted on Zoom. In analysing the data, we identified the following categories which reflected respondents’ experiences:  

• Political intervention into hiring 
• Restrictions on academic freedom
• Self-censorship in relation to Palestine
• The potential impact of the IHRA WDA 
• Harassment by pro-Israel advocacy groups and media outlets
• Attacks from academic colleagues
• Ethnic/racial identity and the experience of harassment
• The emotional impact of self-censorship, harassment and suppression of speech
•  Political interference by university administration
•  Classroom and social media surveillance
• Sexist and homophobic slurs
• Anti-Palestinian and anti-Arab racism and Islamophobia
• Threats of violence including death threats and threats of sexual violence

I want to highlight here some selected bits of the data we collected from our academic respondents.  

HIRING

Incidents involving hiring are of particular interest in the wake of the Azarova scandal at the University of Toronto, in which pro-Israel university alumni attempted to thwart the appointment of pro-Palestine human rights legal expert Valentina Azarova to a position at the University of Toronto Law School.⁸ In response, the Canadian Association of University Professors (CAUT) imposed a censure of the University of Toronto that lasted six months and saw the cancellation of speaking events by numerous academics in solidarity with the censure. During this period, CAUT unanimously adopted a resolution rejecting the adoption of the IHRA on Canadian campuses. 

Four of our respondents reported participating in or witnessing hiring processes where the candidates’ political position on Palestine was used as evidence that they could be predisposed to discriminate against students who did not share their views. Candidates who had expressed critical views on Israel were seen as potentially “divisive” for the department where the hiring was taking place. In some instances, Jewish department members expressed that they would feel “unsafe” if a candidate perceived to be pro-Palestine were to be hired. One candidate was advised by a senior colleague not to use the example of inviting a Palestinian speaker if a question about potential classroom controversies arose. The candidate was told:

“No, no don’t do that. Palestine is controversial at the university where you are applying and it is not a good idea to mention it. Choose a different example.” If this advice has been given once, I bet it has been given a hundred times. And yet for most, it seems unnecessary. Nearly everyone knows to avoid the “controversial” topic of Palestine in a job interview.

A Palestinian scholar summed up the perils of their job search this way:

The toughest part, of course, was making 130+ job applications and not knowing if the reason you’re not getting anything is because of how bad the job market is, your publication record, or Palestine.

ACADEMIC FREEDOM

Eight faculty reported that submissions to academic journals and book publishers were met with negative reviews citing the author’s critical stance on Israeli human rights violations. Three interviewees disclosed that articles that they were told had been accepted for inclusion in journals or edited collections did not appear in the final publications. In several incidents, submissions critical of Israel were withdrawn by the editors from the publication at the last minute or were reported to be “lost.” 

Academic respondents also reported incidents where research funding had been affected by their focus on Palestine-related issues. In one case, a national pro-Israel advocacy group intervened with the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council (SSHRC), a major government funder of academic research in Canada, in an attempt to defund the work of a professor who introduced the issue of Palestine into a research report. The respondent was subsequently deluged with Freedom of Information and Protection of Privacy Act (FIPPA) requests from the pro-Israel advocacy group and has had to seek legal support.

SELF-CENSORSHIP

Reports of self-censorship figure prominently in the research findings. As one respondent commented: 

I purposefully would avoid discussing Israeli settler colonialism in my classes (even when relevant to our studies) in fear of being labelled as an anti-Semite and of not being promoted to tenure. To me, this is an effective campaign to censor critics.  

Another respondent quipped, “I’m not gonna lie to you. I don’t teach about Palestine, and that’s an intentional risk aversion.” 

Several of those interviewed reported removing Palestine-related material from their work in order to satisfy reviewers or avoid controversy early in their academic careers. As one Palestinian academic reported:

These are strategic decisions. For example, my first book included a lot more material on Palestine–Israel than in the [original] version. A reviewer suggested that I remove most of that for my own career’s sake. I decided this was sage advice from a reviewer who genuinely was interested in seeing the book published. As a result, my first published book was much heavier on theory than I had planned. Also, I made a strategic decision to not publish opinion articles (about Palestine) until after tenure. I have followed that plan. 

As is clear from that quote, another reason that respondents self-censored was their precarious academic status as pre-tenure faculty or as academic job seekers.  The impact of precarity on the practice of self-censoring on issues related to Israel/Palestine should not be underestimated.  Several interviewees reported that as pre-tenure faculty they avoided teaching, researching or speaking publicly about Palestine.

Other interview subjects talked about the emotional toll of self-censoring and the danger that the practice might become a habit: One respondent told us:

I and other academics, other activists, the media, are always looking over our shoulders whenever we deal with Israel-Palestine issues. This constant apprehension takes a professional and emotional toll. For example, in the period when I was untenured, I was very careful not to be publicly active on the issue. For some, it is too easy to continue this learned activity once they receive tenure. Thus, the chilling effect is successful. 

SURVEILLANCE

Twenty-one out of 40 academics interviewed reported being targeted by campus pro-Israel student groups and/or by external pro-Israel advocacy groups which have attempted to shut down or forcefully disrupt campus events about Palestine, launched public slander campaigns against pro-Palestinian faculty, or lodged complaints with university administrators against faculty. In addition, we identified 128 Canadians, including 89 students and 34 professors who have been targeted by Canary Mission,⁹ a site which publicly identifies and vilifies hundreds of Palestinian human rights activists. For some of those targeted there have been serious professional and social consequences. The use of Canary Mission to deny entry to Israel was cited by the 2020 United Nations Report of the Special Rapporteur on Contemporary Forms of Racism, Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia and Related Intolerance¹⁰ as a form of digital border technology that violates equality and non-discrimination rights, as well as freedom of expression protections, and leaves those whose rights are violated with limited avenues of redress. Irish scholar David Landy characterizes sites like Canary Mission as a “virtual panopticon,” to put all academics on notice that they will be observed and attacked should they criticize Israel.¹¹ 

To be clear, Jewish supporters of Palestine in academia are not protected from these forms of attack. Rather, we also face defamation, ostracization and targeting from our community.

As one Jewish professor told us: 

Members of the institutional Jewish community have attempted to get me fired (but I had tenure) and/or reprimanded and/or my activities on behalf of the Palestinian cause curtailed.  They warned my university administration that the university was becoming known as “the antisemitic university” because of my activities.

Concerns about surveillance have grown as universities increasingly embrace online platforms, particularly in the wake of the global COVID pandemic. One racialized academic who has had to deal with career-threatening attacks by pro-Israel organizations observed:

I am more cautious of what I say in my classes, especially if they are recorded and can be shared via remote teaching. I know I am being monitored by the lobby groups that have targeted me. 

One Palestinian professor told us:

I showed a picture of Haifa pre-1948 in class to make the point [that] the land was not empty before then. Although I had explicitly noted that the power point presentation was strictly for students enrolled in the class, and not to be shared or publicized, it was sent to the Hillel Foundation and in turn they sent it to the History Department and to Jewish Studies. The Acting Chair then sent it to the Dean with a complaint. I was contacted by the Dean and had to meet with him to explain. Luckily the Dean didn’t take it further.

A white-identified professor who is active in pro-Palestine politics outlined their experience with student complaints:

When presenting materials critical of Israel, I am constantly harassed by students who claim that I am antisemitic in class. This usually results in many emails and extra time holding discussions defending my position in office hours. In an introductory class, one of my students listed Israel as an example of a settler colonial state (I had asked students to give examples of settler colonialism, in a lecture largely focused on Canada). I received a flurry of emails and several comments claiming that I had allowed an antisemitic remark to go unchecked in my class. Anytime Israel is mentioned in a critical tone in my classes, I am immediately charged with disseminating antisemitic tropes, even blood libel. The charges amount to defamation – and the threat hanging over professors is that they will be targeted by an active harassment campaign. 

EMOTIONAL IMPACT

Pro-Palestinian professors who have been targeted for their views described to us the emotional toll on them of smear campaigns and incidents of harassment. Here in Canada, as in other countries, racialized individuals appear to bear the brunt of this targeting. A racialized faculty member who has been the subject of personal and professional attacks related that:

The emotional toll has been heavy…. When things were at their worst, I was dealing with anxiety and high levels of stress. Even responding to this questionnaire is emotionally triggering.

We were not surprised to learn that scholars who identify as Palestinian reported having been profoundly affected by harassment and intimidation. As might be expected, these incidents were saturated with anti-Palestinian and anti-Arab racism and Islamophobia. One Palestinian respondent described the emotional impact of working in an academic setting where scholarship on Palestinian human rights is unwelcome: 

The threatening environment is always there. Just being of Palestinian origin turns my life into a constant struggle to validate that there is such a thing as a Palestinian with a past, present and future.

Another Palestinian interviewee described being made to feel like a biological threat: 

The emotional impact is I feel that I am like a bacteria. I don’t really know how else to describe it. I feel like I am this dirty existence. Like, I’m a dirty word, I have a dirty identity. And if I talk about it, it ruins everything. Like it ruins the department, and it ruins their PR, and it ruins the university.

Yet another Palestinian academic summed up their experience in a way that reflected the sentiment articulated by several other participants: 

The most common [expression] is that Palestinians are violent and backwards, and they’re the root cause of the conflict. This is so prevalent. The level of dehumanization is really high. It’s the reality of the structure as a whole, that you can stereotype, demonize, and dehumanize Palestinians and that would not only be acceptable but agreeable.

And another Palestinian academic told us :

Emotionally it is a daily trauma waking up in a society where the dominant narrative erases you, and recognizes your colonizer as the legitimate owner of your land, that you are stereotyped as a terrorist instead of a victim, that teaching about it becomes akin to a battle that you might lose any time.

CONCLUSION

The issue of Palestine has been described as a “poisoned chalice” – inasmuch as the imperative to educate about the region and about the role played by local and global power hierarchies coexists alongside the awareness that doing so poses significant personal and professional risks.¹² Attacks on pro-Palestine speech must also be understood in the context of a growing crisis in academia around issues of democratization and governance, precarious employment, debates over harmful speech and the influence of private interests on consistently underfunded universities. The devastating impact of the chilly climate on advocates for Palestinian human rights gives us legitimate cause to worry about freedom of expression and dissent and about the growing toxicity of discourse around Palestine. However, as Nick Reimer reminds us, “the normalization of violations of academic freedom means that the case for Palestine in universities should be made first with reference to the scandal of Israeli apartheid and only secondly on more ‘procedural’ academic grounds.”¹³ The chilling effect, as destructive and appalling as it is, is largely a stratagem designed to foster denial of the unendurable reality of settler colonialism in Israel/Palestine. Surely, we must oppose this on many of the grounds delineated in this report. However, the ultimate goal should be to break through the discourses of denial in order to champion and amplify the Palestinian experience – a history and a present that urgently cry for justice.