Among the many attacks on democratic institutions and values launched by the Trump administration, those on universities are exceptionally virulent and far-reaching. In the words of J.D. Vance (quoting Richard Nixon), the government has made it clear that universities are “the enemy” (Nov. 2, 2021, National Conservatism Conference). They have accused universities of promoting a “woke ideology,” especially in connection with “diversity, equity and inclusion” and non-binary understandings of gender. And, of particular significance for the Jewish community, they have aggressively maintained that universities are hotbeds of antisemitism, defined very broadly to include virtually any expression of pro-Palestinian views or criticism of Israel.
As a result, they have withheld research funding (or have tried to do so) from institutions that attempt to diversify the faculty or student body, or whose curricula include courses that acknowledge our country’s history of systemic racism. They have also limited the overhead costs that universities can collect from federal research grants as a way to restrict the flow of taxpayer dollars to higher education and they propose to tax the endowments of those institutions at unprecedented rates to further hamstring them. They have revoked the visas of international students who express political views at odds with those of the administration, charging that they are a threat to national security. And they have gutted, if not quite eliminated, the Department of Education, especially (and paradoxically) its Office of Civil Rights, which is tasked with investigating claims of discrimination, precisely the behavior they claim is at the heart of their concerns about campus climate.
Much has been written about all this, of course, including the observation that authoritarian regimes have historically attacked higher education as a center of independent thought and social power. But to date there have been few, if any, responses to these developments from a Jewish perspective. What resources within our tradition can bolster a defense of higher education at a time when it is threatened and discredited?
First, it must be noted that classic halakhic sources will not be of much assistance here. The world in which those texts were written knew nothing of federal government funding of research, Constitutional protections of free speech, federal regulations about discrimination on the basis of race (e.g., Title VI) or anything remotely like the modern university. There are simply no clear precedents in Jewish tradition for the legal or social institutions that define the current crisis.
But there are a number of broad Jewish values that I believe are applicable in these perilous times. They can provide the building blocks for a Jewish defense of universities, what they do and the ways in which they contribute to our society and to democracy. They can also undergird a less defensive response to the threats posed by resurgent antisemitism.
Makhloket l’Shem Shamayim: ‘Argument for the Sake of Heaven’
The rabbis were deeply devoted to the proposition that we discover the meaning of Torah, the truth embedded in our sacred texts, through vigorous debate and argumentation. The Talmud powerfully testifies to the rabbinic belief in the value of challenging received truths, thereby uncovering their underlying foundations and extending their application to an ever-changing world. No one’s view is exempt from critical examination, and even views that are rejected continue to be taught since they may one day become the prevailing view (Mishnah Eduyot 1:5).
Given this propensity for debate, the rabbis understood the danger of lapsing into argumentativeness or debate motivated by self-interest, rather than by a genuine pursuit of truth. An “argument for the sake of heaven” is one in which both sides share a commitment to uncovering the truth and to the value of respectful disagreement. Such arguments honor God, for God has empowered us to lay bare the meaning of the Torah God has revealed to us.
An “argument for the sake of heaven” is one in which both sides share a commitment to uncovering the truth and to the value of respectful disagreement.
The modern research university is defined by a similar pursuit of new discoveries about our world and new ways of applying received knowledge to the challenges of our time. This mission is sometimes even enshrined in the university’s motto: “Truth, even unto its innermost parts” (Brandeis) or simply “Veritas” (Harvard). To be sure, universities are political institutions, and they pursue this mission imperfectly at best. Often, they stray into “arguments not for the sake of heaven.” But those of us who have spent our lives in higher education know that overwhelmingly academics are devoted to the creation of new knowledge — tirelessly, as objectively as possible, and even when their conclusions and methods are controversial.
Universities are uniquely positioned in our society to pursue knowledge in this way and so contribute to our collective understanding of human nature, social institutions and the natural world. At its core, this is sacred work, for it enables us to more fully appreciate and protect God’s creation. Universities must be free to pursue this work without government interference or political influence. Authoritarians, by definition, want to eliminate any resistance to their ideology and so target those institutions that are committed to free inquiry. As Jews, we must defend the unfettered pursuit of truth, by any means and wherever it leads us.
Kevod Ha’Briot: ‘Human Dignity’
It is a bedrock principle of our tradition that all human beings are created in God’s image and so worthy of respect. This idea is captured in the classic text (Jerusalem Talmud, Nedarim 9:4) in which Akiva and Ben Azzai dispute the most fundamental principle in the Torah. For Ben Azzai, it is, “This is the book of the generations of Adam. On the day that God created humans, God made him in the likeness of God” (Gen. 5:1). This principle of kevod ha’briot is invoked in a wide range of contexts, from criminal law to civil damages to religious ritual practice. In the words of one famous rabbinic dictum, “The value of human dignity is so great that it supersedes any negative commandment of the Torah” (Berachot 19b-20a).
This principle is central to a universalist tendency within Jewish tradition that insists that all people — irrespective of race, class or national origin — are of equal concern to God. By implication, they must also be of equal concern to us. To treat inequitably people who are fundamentally equal to deny them the respect to which they are entitled as creatures of God.
The much-maligned DEI (diversity, equity and inclusion) agenda that has developed in recent years embodies, at its core, an effort to honor this universalist principle. Within universities, this principle is expressed in various ways — in the effort to ensure that hiring and admissions policies do not discriminate against minorities, that students and employees of all backgrounds are welcomed and treated with equal respect, and that the cultural traditions of all people are celebrated and honored. These practices are essential not only because they affirm the essential equality of all members of the community; they also serve to redress the effects of historical inequities within universities, and the larger society of which they are a part.
Attacks on DEI, then, are fundamentally attacks on the ideal of equity itself. To be sure, the current administration would have us believe that they are defending equality, insofar as DEI efforts give special consideration to people from underrepresented groups. But this is to mistake equal treatment for equal consideration. To offer the same meal to two people — one of whom is already well-fed and the other of whom has been starving — is not to give them equal consideration. The essence of equity is that it offers each person what they are entitled to — namely, an affirmation of their human dignity. The problem is that some people in our society historically have been accorded this dignity, while others have not. DEI is precisely the effort to rectify this injustice.
We must stand firm in the face of the current administration’s attacks on those who have suffered from historic injustices.
As Jews, we must recognize the value of this work and defend it against those who seek to preserve current social and racial inequities. It is our mandate to “repair the world,” which requires us to treat all of our fellow human beings as equally deserving of our respect and consideration. It follows that we must stand firm in the face of the current administration’s attacks on those who have suffered from historic injustices.
Savlanut: ‘Forbearance’
The Mussar tradition, in particular, has highlighted the value of “bearing burdens,” in the sense of enduring unpleasant and even “unbearable” circumstances (Alan Morinis, Everyday Holiness, p. 57). Doing so is an exercise in self-restraint and self-discipline. But it is also a recognition that we are sometimes called upon to endure injustice and suffering, both our own and that of our fellow human beings. Many classical texts point out that this is one of God’s own qualities, enduring and forgiving the transgressions of the Israelites, and so a quality that we should emulate.
Much of the current assault on universities has been justified as a response to rising antisemitism and an effort to hold those institutions accountable for countering it. Even allowing for the questionable conflation of anti-Israel rhetoric with antisemitism, there can be little doubt that college campuses have seen an increase in hateful and sometimes even violent attacks on Jews. And, of course, universities are required to ensure that all students can live and study together in a safe and supportive environment.
Yet, as legal scholars have long recognized, highly objectionable, even hateful speech is protected under the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. Even private institutions that are not technically bound by the Constitution’s protections of free speech have generally adopted that principle as consistent with their mission promote an open marketplace of ideas. Of course, within the Jewish community we are quick to condemn such speech, especially insofar as it echoes the rhetoric of Nazis and others who have sought to destroy us.
But the wiser course for us is to recognize the value of savlanut, of bearing the burden of hearing things that offend us. For one thing, suppressing that speech doesn’t make those attitudes disappear. In fact, having those views expressed openly gives us the opportunity to counter them. As Justice Louis Brandeis wrote in 1927, “If there be time to expose through discussion the falsehood and fallacies, to avert the evil by the processes of education, the remedy to be applied is more speech, not enforced silence.” When universities defend the value of unfettered free speech — with the important exception of speech that is directly and imminently threatening — they are embracing the value of such forbearance. We in the Jewish community would do well to follow their example.
These are profoundly challenging times for universities. The Trump administration seems determined to do everything in its power to force higher education to constrain rigorous, open intellectual debate, reject equity and suppress free speech. University leaders will need to exercise extraordinary skill and judgment to defend their educational missions against these attacks. They will also need the support of Americans from all backgrounds who value the role that these institutions play in our public life. For those of us in the Jewish community, that support draws upon values deeply rooted in our tradition.
