The Closing of the Academic Mind. By M.G. Oprea.
The Closing of the Academic Mind. By M.G. Oprea. The Federalist, April 21, 2014.
Let’s Give Up on Academic Freedom in Favor of Justice. By Sandra Y. L. Korn. NJBR, February 26, 2014. Published in The Harvard Crimson, February 18, 2014.
Oprea:
Harvard
student Sandra Y.L. Korn recently proposed in The Harvard Crimson that academics should be stopped if their
research is deemed oppressive. Arguing that “academic justice” should replace
“academic freedom,” she writes: “If our university community opposes racism,
sexism, and heterosexism, why should we put up with research that counters our
goals simply in the name of ‘academic freedom’?”
In
other words, Korn would have the university cease to be a forum for open debate
and free inquiry in the name of justice, as defined by mainstream liberal
academia.
Unfortunately,
this is already a reality in most universities across America, where academics
and university administrators alike are trying, often successfully, to
discredit and prohibit certain ideas and ways of thinking. Particularly in the
humanities, many ideas are no longer considered legitimate, and debate over
them is de facto non-existent. In
order to delegitimize researchers who are out of line, academics brand them
with one of several terms that have emerged from social science theory.
The
first term, “hegemonic,” is frequently used in history courses, literary
criticism, and gender studies. Hegemony, of course, is a legitimate word that
is often useful in describing consistency and uniformity. However, most people
outside academia are unaware that being called “hegemonic” is the insult du jour. It strongly implies that you
are close-minded and perhaps even bigoted. This term may be applied to offences
ranging from referencing the habits or dress of a cultural group to discussing
the views held by a religion (and daring to question them—so long as the
religion in question is not Christianity).
To do
these things is to “essentialize” those people by speaking about them broadly
and being so bold as to imply that they may share a practice or belief in a
general sense. It is the insult of those who would have every department in
academia broken down into sub-departments ad
infinitum in order to avoid saying anything general about anything,
resulting in verbal and intellectual paralysis.
This
strategy of labeling has been particularly successful in its application to
middle-eastern and Islamic studies. Any author, or student, who does not join
in the liberal narrative about Islamic culture—which includes unwavering
support for Palestinians, the absolute equality of men and women in Islam, and
an insistence on the peaceful nature of the religion despite any violent
tendencies in its foundation— will find themselves labeled an “orientalist.”
Edward
Said popularized this term in his 1978 post-colonial work Orientalism. According to many of my colleagues, an orientalist is
a person who writes about the Middle East from a “western perspective,” which
is when one does not unquestioningly support and affirm Middle Eastern and
Islamic culture. This does not mean that westerners are excluded from writing
about the Middle East and Islam. A westerner can do so successfully so long as
their research is void of criticism. Write anything else and you will find
yourself labeled an orientalist and no graduate course will touch your work
with a ten-foot pole.
Sadly,
this is precisely what has happened to the work of Bernard Lewis, one of the
world’s most renowned Middle East scholars. Because he has written about
clashes between Islam and the West, and is willing to look at the Middle East
outside the utopian academic optic, Lewis has been “dis-credited” and replaced
with authors like Tariq Ramadan in college or graduate course syllabi.
Similarly, Michael Oren, a former Israeli ambassador to the United States and
visiting professor at Harvard, Yale, and Georgetown universities, has been
dismissed as “not a historian” by some academics, presumably because of his
pro-Israeli stance. Kambiz Ghanea Bassiri, an associate professor at Reed
College, strips the scholar Daniel Pipes of his status as a historian, writing
that he is a “historian of Islam turned pro-Israel activist,” implying that the
two are mutually exclusive.
The
effect of discrediting one’s opponents in this way—rather than engaging and
debating their ideas—is to create an academia where there is only one right way
to think. If you dissent, you will be blackballed and labeled as hegemonic or
orientalist.
Nowhere
has this been more evident than in Brandeis University’s withdrawal of an
honorary degree to Ayaan Hirsi Ali recently because of her “controversial”
stance on women’s rights in Muslim society, which mostly consists of objecting
to things like female genital mutilation, forced marriages, and honor killings.
Rather than defending Hirsi Ali, or at the very least welcoming the debate that
her presence would bring, Brandeis chose to shut her out. This was done at the
behest of Brandeis faculty, students, and the Council of American-Islamic
Relations, all of whom claim she is Islamaphobic.
The
censorial climate of academia extends beyond tenured professors and touches the
students, both in undergraduate and graduate school. They are being taught what
is and is not an “acceptable” way of thinking rather than being encouraged to
think through difficult questions on their own.
(I
recently met a fellow graduate student from a Muslim-majority country who
confessed that she is disgusted with the way women are treated in her home
country. She finds the inequality unacceptable. However, she felt the need to
make a caveat: “I know as an academic and a Muslim I shouldn’t say this…”)
The
trouble is, very few in academia will even engage supposedly orientalist and
hegemonic views. How can one argue against a room full of graduate students—and
a professor—who dismiss such views out of hand and label dissenters with
epithets that are tantamount to “racist” in academic parlance?
Korn’s
dream of a “just” academic utopia is already being realized. But like many
utopian visions, there is a dark underbelly. Anyone who does not ascribe to the
dogma of “academic justice” can expect to be shunned and muzzled—as Brandeis
demonstrated recently. The irony is that in its effort to eliminate allegedly
close-minded and bigoted views, the university itself has become illiberal,
dogmatic, and intellectually hegemonic.
If we
shut the doors on academic freedom, the acceptable territory of research and
discourse will continue to shrink over time, and the self-censorial dogma of
the academy will inevitably trickle out beyond the boundaries of the university
campus, threatening freedom of speech—and thought—in society at large.