Amira Halperin and Stephen Sussman argue that institutional neutrality within universities can function as a mechanism of avoidance, and how legal protections for speech are being invoked to justify inaction.

In the wake of the 7 October 2023 Hamas attacks against Israel, university campuses across Britain have become sites of intense conflict over Israel, Gaza, Zionism, and antisemitism. Campus protests and confrontations have raised difficult questions about the boundaries between protected political expression and conduct that intimidates, excludes, or discriminates against Jewish and Israeli students and faculty.

At the centre of this debate, academic freedom and free speech are increasingly invoked selectively in ways that can normalise antisemitic expression while allowing universities to avoid institutional responsibility. The problem is not criticism of Israel itself, including severe or controversial criticism. Rather it is the failure to distinguish protected political debate from conduct that targets individuals or groups on the basis of Jewish or Israeli identity.

Drawing on higher education governance, public law, and contemporary scholarship on antisemitism, the article examines how antisemitism is being reframed as legitimate political critique, how institutional neutrality can function as a mechanism of avoidance, and how legal protections for speech are being invoked to justify inaction. Through an examination of university governance and institutional responses in England, the article argues that the central challenge is not simply one of speech or legal constraint, but of consistent institutional judgement and responsibility.

Academic Freedom and Institutional Responsibility

Institutional neutrality is not synonymous with institutional inaction. Universities exercise judgement in regulating conduct and expression when they conflict with the educational mission or violate established community standards. Codes of conduct, harassment policies, and equality frameworks demonstrate that universities already distinguish between protected expression and conduct that may warrant institutional intervention.

The decision not to intervene is therefore not necessarily an absence of governance, but can itself constitute a form of governance – one that reflects institutional priorities and values.

Academic freedom exists to advance the educational mission of the university and the public good it serves. When academic freedom is invoked in ways that enable discrimination, exclusion, or intimidation, it ceases to function solely as a safeguard of inquiry and can instead become a mechanism through which harm is permitted.

The central question, therefore, is not whether universities should regulate political viewpoints, but whether they apply their existing principles and policies consistently when political expression crosses into discriminatory or exclusionary conduct.

Reframing Antisemitism as Political Speech

One of the difficulties confronting universities is that contemporary antisemitism does not always appear as explicit hostility towards Jews. It may emerge within highly politicised debates over Israel, Zionism, colonialism, human rights, and resistance. In such circumstances, determining when political expression crosses into antisemitic or discriminatory discourse requires careful assessment rather than the assumption that political language is either inherently protected or inherently antisemitic.

Brian Klug and David Hirsh both make this distinction. Klug stresses that ‘anti-Zionism, as such, is not antisemitic,’ but stresses that he is well aware that, ‘antisemitism can be hidden behind the mask of anti-Zionism.’ That distinction matters within academic settings because concerns about discrimination should not be treated as either proof of antisemitism or merely as political disagreement.

Describing the 2001 Durban conference, Hirsh writes that ‘some was legitimate criticism of Israel expressed in democratic antiracist forms,’ while ‘some was antisemitism expressed in ostensibly democratic and antiracist language.’ The point is not that criticism of Israel or opposition to Zionism is inherently antisemitic, but that institutions must examine the content, context, and consequences of particular forms of expression.

The International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) working definition of antisemitism provides one framework for making these distinctions. The definition does not prohibit criticism of Israel, nor does it classify all anti-Zionism as antisemitic. It identifies examples that may constitute antisemitism depending on their context, including denying the Jewish people the right to self-determination, applying standards to Israel that are not expected of other democratic nations, and employing symbols and images associated with classical antisemitism in characterisations of Israel or Israelis.

The controversy surrounding the IHRA definition itself illustrates the difficulty universities face. Disagreement over how antisemitism should be defined is legitimate and should remain part of academic debate. But definitional disagreement cannot relieve institutions of the responsibility to examine particular incidents and determine whether political expression has crossed into discrimination, harassment, intimidation, or exclusion. The relevant question is therefore not simply whether speech is described as anti-Zionist, pro-Palestinian, or critical of Israel, but how that expression operates in a particular academic setting and whether university standards are being enforced with the same rigour in every case.

When Political Rhetoric Becomes Academic Discourse

On campus, antisemitic expression may emerge without taking the form of overtly antisemitic language. It can instead be embedded in broader political rhetoric and activism. Once such debates enter academic settings, universities face the difficult task of distinguishing legitimate political and scholarly disagreement from expression or conduct that targets Jewish or Israeli students and faculty.
This distinction cannot be made solely by asking whether a statement is political. Political expression can remain fully protected even when it is controversial, offensive, or deeply contested. At the same time, the political character of a statement does not automatically place it beyond institutional scrutiny when it is accompanied by intimidation, discrimination, exclusion, or harassment.

Freedom of expression and academic freedom are essential principles of university life. Keith Whittington argues that universities should tolerate sharp disagreement because ‘it is through controversy that we can make progress, often in the most unexpected ways.’ The difficulty arises when neutrality is interpreted as requiring institutions to avoid evaluating the context and impact of conduct altogether. Academic freedom protects the exchange of ideas; it does not eliminate the university’s responsibility to apply its own rules governing harassment, discrimination, professional conduct, and access to academic life.

The cumulative effect of failing to make these distinctions can be the normalisation of exclusion. When potentially antisemitic conduct is treated automatically as nothing more than political disagreement, Jewish students and faculty may reasonably conclude that their experiences of hostility will not receive meaningful institutional consideration. Over time, such responses can erode trust in university governance and weaken the conditions necessary for genuine academic exchange.

Academic freedom is therefore best protected not by institutional passivity, but by consistent judgement. Universities must protect controversial political expression while also determining, on the facts of each case, when expression or associated conduct crosses established institutional or legal boundaries.

Institutional Failure in Practice: Governance, Law, and Campus Reality in Britain

The normalisation of antisemitic expression in academic settings cannot be understood solely as a problem of language or conceptual ambiguity. It must also be examined as a question of institutional governance: how universities interpret their responsibilities, apply existing policies, and determine when intervention is warranted.

The discussion that follows therefore focuses on how universities exercise institutional judgement when confronted with allegations of antisemitism, and whether appeals to academic freedom, free speech, or institutional neutrality can sometimes obscure separate responsibilities concerning discrimination, harassment, intimidation, or exclusion.

British Regulatory Authority and Institutional Responsibility

The universities examined in this article operate within an English legal and regulatory framework that seeks to protect freedom of expression while also imposing responsibilities concerning equality, discrimination, harassment, and the prevention of extremism. Yet there are questions about whether those responsibilities hold up when antisemitism is embedded in political or activist discourse.

Universities are subject to the Equality Act 2010, which provides protections against discrimination and harassment. Since 1 August 2025, registered higher-education providers in England have also been subject to strengthened duties under the Higher Education (Freedom of Speech) Act 2023, including duties to take reasonably practicable steps to secure freedom of speech within the law and to promote its importance within higher education. Universities are also subject to the Prevent Duty under the Counter-Terrorism and Security Act 2015, which requires specified authorities to have due regard to the need to prevent people from being drawn into terrorism.

These responsibilities demonstrate that freedom of expression and institutional intervention are not necessarily opposing principles. Universities are already required to make judgements about the boundaries of lawful expression, discriminatory conduct, harassment, and potential threats to members of their communities. Academic freedom does not remove these obligations; it operates alongside them.

The difficulty arises in implementation. When allegations of antisemitism emerge within highly politicised debates concerning Israel, Zionism, or the Palestinians, universities must determine whether the conduct at issue remains protected political expression or raises separate concerns under equality, harassment, disciplinary, or other legal frameworks. The existence of political content does not answer that question by itself.

The examples below therefore provide a test of institutional governance. The issue is not whether universities possess unlimited authority to restrict controversial speech – they do not. It is whether they are willing and able to apply their existing responsibilities across the board when Jewish or Israeli members of the academic community allege discrimination, intimidation, exclusion, or harassment.

Institutional failure does not necessarily require discriminatory intent. It can also arise when universities respond to allegations of antisemitism through delay, procedural caution, or an unwillingness to make substantive judgements about conduct. In such circumstances, the concern is not simply whether an institution intended to discriminate, but whether it took the allegation seriously enough to reach a judgement on it at all.

This distinction is central to the examples that follow. Academic freedom and institutional neutrality remain essential principles, but neither relieves universities of the responsibility to evaluate allegations of discrimination, intimidation, exclusion, or harassment. When institutions repeatedly avoid making those judgements, they risk weakening both the protection of members of the academic community and confidence in university governance.

The consequences extend beyond Jewish students and faculty. A university that cannot make that judgement risks undermining the conditions necessary for open, rigorous, and inclusive intellectual exchange.

Documented Examples: Institutional Responsibility and the Boundaries of Academic Freedom

Oxford University: Stated Commitments and Reported Concerns

Oxford University’s public position on Israel and Gaza affirms freedom of speech within the law, states that discrimination has no place at the university, and encourages students and staff to report discrimination and harassment. The university also states that it has adopted the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance definition of antisemitism as a guide to interpreting and understanding antisemitism.

Against that stated commitment, an open letter from Jewish and non-Jewish Oxford students, researchers, faculty members, and alumni, last updated on 27 May 2024, described more than 100 reported incidents involving antisemitic or anti-Israeli hostility. The letter also alleged failures in the university’s reporting procedures, including complaints that remained unresolved, reports that were dismissed, and uncertainty among students and staff about how incidents would be investigated. Its authors asked the university to strengthen reporting procedures, training, and safeguards for Jewish and Israeli members of the academic community.

The Oxford letter does not establish that every reported incident was substantiated, nor does it prove discriminatory intent by the university. It does, however, provide contemporaneous evidence of a gap between formal institutional commitments and the experiences reported by members of the university community. That gap is directly relevant to the governance problem examined in this article: whether universities that publicly endorse both free expression and equal protection apply those principles with the same seriousness when antisemitism is reported within a politically charged environment.

University of Essex: A Documented Institutional Response

A second documented example comes from the University of Essex. In February 2019, the university confronted allegations of antisemitism after a Students’ Union process concerning the creation of a Jewish Society and social-media posts by a member of academic staff. The university’s subsequent review stated that the large number of votes against the Jewish Society indicated ‘signs of significant antisemitism.’ It also recorded that the university supported the society’s establishment and commissioned a review of the experiences of Jewish students and staff.

The review drew on testimony from students, staff, former staff, and alumni and was scrutinised by an independent external group. That group concluded that Essex had responded rapidly by addressing the discrimination, holding solidarity events, commissioning the review, and changing procedures for establishing student societies. It described the process as a model for how universities should respond to antisemitism or other forms of discrimination.

The Essex example is useful because it demonstrates the other side of institutional responsibility. A university can identify discriminatory conduct, apply procedures, and strengthen safeguards without abandoning commitments to academic freedom or lawful expression. It provides a documented example of the kind of consistent governance this article argues universities should exercise.

Recommendations

The examples and legal frameworks discussed above suggest that protecting Jewish and Israeli members of university communities does not require weakening academic freedom. It requires universities to apply their existing responsibilities consistently and to distinguish carefully between protected political expression and conduct that crosses into discrimination, harassment, or exclusion.

First, universities should articulate clear distinctions among lawful political criticism, controversial or offensive expression, and conduct involving discrimination, harassment, intimidation, or exclusion. Criticism of Israel or Zionism should not be treated as antisemitic merely because it is severe or politically contentious. Conversely, conduct should not escape institutional scrutiny simply because it is presented as anti-Zionist, pro-Palestinian, or part of a broader political campaign.

Second, universities should apply existing equality, harassment, and professional-conduct policies consistently. Allegations should be assessed according to the conduct involved and the applicable institutional standards, rather than the political identity of either the speaker or the individual raising the complaint. Where institutions decide that intervention is not warranted, they should be able to explain how that decision reflects their established policies.

Third, universities should distinguish institutional discipline from criminal enforcement. University administrators are not courts, and controversial political expression should not be treated as criminal merely because it is offensive. Where conduct may raise genuine questions of unlawful threats, incitement, or support for a proscribed organisation, those questions should be referred to the appropriate authorities. Universities nevertheless retain responsibility for conduct that may violate their own rules even when it does not result in criminal proceedings.

Finally, universities should recognise that academic freedom protects disagreement rather than ideological conformity. Students and faculty must be able to encounter arguments they reject, question prevailing political assumptions, and participate in intellectual life without being required to demonstrate adherence to a particular political position. Protecting that principle requires institutions to defend both controversial expression and the equal ability of members of the academic community to participate in scholarly exchange.

Conclusion

Universities possess the authority and responsibility to address antisemitic conduct without abandoning freedom of expression or academic freedom. The challenge is not to suppress controversial political debate, but to apply institutional principles consistently when expression or conduct crosses into discrimination, intimidation, harassment, or exclusion.

Reclaiming academic freedom requires institutional courage and a willingness to identify antisemitism even when it appears within politically charged debates over Israel and Zionism. At the same time, universities must protect lawful criticism of Israel, including criticism that is severe, uncomfortable, or deeply contested. These principles are not contradictory. Both depend upon the ability of institutions to distinguish political disagreement from conduct that prevents members of the academic community from participating fully and equally in university life.

The distinction must therefore rest on evidence, context, and consistent application of established standards. Political advocacy should not be treated as antisemitic simply because it challenges Israel or Zionism. But discrimination, intimidation, or exclusion should not be excused simply because it is presented in the language of political activism.

More broadly, the challenge identified here extends beyond antisemitism. When universities fail to apply their own principles consistently, they weaken the institutional foundations that sustain academic freedom itself. A university that cannot distinguish protected inquiry from discriminatory or exclusionary conduct risks leaving all members of its community more vulnerable.

Reasserting institutional responsibility is therefore not a restriction on academic freedom, but a condition of its survival. Without principled and consistent governance, the university cannot fully sustain its role as a space for open, rigorous, pluralistic, and intellectually honest exchange.

Bibliography

Hirsh, David 2013, Hostility to Israel and Antisemitism: Toward a Sociological Approach, Journal for the Study of Antisemitism, 5: 1401–1422.

Klug, Brian 2013, What Do We Mean When We Say ‘Antisemitism’? Echoes of Shattering Glass, Jewish Museum Berlin, online publication based on keynote lecture, 8 November 2013.

Whittington, Keith E. 2018, Why Universities Must Defend Free Speech, Princeton Alumni Weekly, 15 February 2018; adapted from Speak Freely: Why Universities Must Defend Free Speech.