By Angelique Talmor
Wednesday, June 05, 2024
The hypocrisy of Harvard’s first-ever Jewish
affinity celebration was encapsulated by the fact that the university’s chief
DEI officer, Sherri Charleston, had the gall to give the closing remarks.
Charleston also gave closing remarks at a concurrent Arab affinity celebration,
which her office funded, where student speakers praised the “student
intifada” and vilified the “normalization
of Zionism” as well as the Arabs who “distanced themselves from the radical
Palestinians” after October 7.
When the administration announced that it would be
holding an affinity celebration for Jewish students, I suspected it would be a
feeble attempt to redress the unwillingness of Harvard’s leadership to combat
the hostility to Jews on campus. I also fundamentally rejected the idea that
including Jews under the DEI umbrella could help — DEI drives inter-group
division by design. Nonetheless, I decided to go. I was driven by curiosity and
the slight hope that the celebration would prove to be a rare pleasant moment:
an opportunity to celebrate my accomplishments without hearing jeers against
the Jewish state.
But far from being comforting, the experience left me
deeply unsettled. About 300 people, students, friends, family, and faculty,
filed into a room in one of Harvard’s libraries. It was intimate — too
intimate. There were only about 100 graduates and very few teachers — though
this did include prominent professors Jason Furman and Steven Pinker, who gave
the keynote speech. It was a stark reminder that Jewish enrollment at the Ivy
League has plummeted in recent years, and that few people on Harvard’s
payroll are willing to support us, at least in public.
I was also bothered by many of the presentations. The
speakers did little to address antisemitism on campus, instead attempting to emphasize
unity and solidarity within the Jewish community. The underlying message, it
seemed, was that Harvard is still a great place to be a Jew. This could not be
further from the well–documented truth: Today at Harvard, Jews are harassed, intimidated,
ostracized, and even assaulted if they support Israel. At the end of the
celebration, when I was given a stole that seemed designed to look as different as
possible from an Israeli flag, my dejection was cemented. That night, I ordered
an Israeli flag from Amazon to wear at graduation — and felt a sense of dread
for what was to come during those festivities.
That intuition turned out to be even more correct than I
imagined. Harvard’s specially selected student speakers were open about their
antisemitism. In the undergraduate English address, Shruthi Kumar disingenuously cast herself as a victim
by claiming that she and other “black and brown” students were doxed last fall, leaving
their “jobs and safety” uncertain — as if it hadn’t been the result of their
choice to serve as members of one of the student organizations that signed on to a vile letter on October 7 claiming that “Israel was
entirely responsible” for the worst pogrom since the Holocaust. Kumar also
received enthusiastic applause when she denounced the decision to not allow 13
of the leaders of Harvard’s campus encampment to graduate. She was apparently
unbothered by their significant disruption of campus life or their countless
calls for violence against Jews. There was also applause for her disingenuous
bemoaning that “freedom of speech and expressions of solidarity had become
punishable” on campus. Of course, the encampment was allowed to go on for
weeks, and the numerous pro-Palestinian demonstrations on campus that parroted
Hamas talking points went on with impunity all year.
In the following address, Harvard Law School
student Robert Clinton called for a cease-fire in Gaza — an
act that would allow the terrorist organization Hamas to stay in power and make
it impossible for Israel to guarantee that events like those of October 7 will
not happen again, as is Hamas’s ambition. Harvard’s keynote speaker, Maria Ressa,
who previously compared Israel to Nazis, was no better. She received hearty
applause for highlighting that Claudine Gay — the disgraced former Harvard
president who affirmed in congressional testimony that it was okay to call for
the genocide of Jews at Harvard — invited her. The Nobel laureate continued to
play into antisemitic tropes, claiming “I was called antisemitic by power and
money because they want power and money.” To top it all off, she parroted
the lie that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza,
ironically all while making the central point of her speech the importance of
seeking truth in an age of disinformation.
As I sat in my chair listening to these speeches, I was
simultaneously disgusted and horrified. Until then, I had elected to wear my
Israeli flag as a cape on my back. At that moment, however, I decided not to
cower as a weak-kneed Jew and unpinned my cape to hold the Israeli
flag high in protest. Of all the students in the Class of 2024,
I was alone in doing so.
In those moments of holding up the Israeli flag in
defiance, I felt relieved that I could stand for what I believed in, but I also
felt terribly outnumbered. I held up the sole Israeli flag; there were hundreds
of students and professors wearing keffiyehs and donning the Palestinian flag.
As I sat in my seat next to the main aisle watching them walk out in protest,
coming within a foot of me, I realized just how little I had in common with
these people who were supposed to have constituted my intellectual community. I
wasn’t thinking just about Israel or the Jews, but about those who have elected
to align themselves with forces who wish to destroy Western civilization. A
significant plurality of those around me who walked out and cheered at the
deplorable statements I described have worked tirelessly to ensure that Harvard
is a centerpiece in the effort to undermine the West. The silent majority
around me who watched without resistance are complicit in allowing Harvard to
devolve from one of the gems of our civilization to an active engine of its
destruction.
As the ceremony ended, an older Harvard alumnus serving
as a marshal came up to me and thanked me for standing up with my Israeli flag.
Before walking away to return to his duties, he told me that “goodness will
prevail.” But will it? At Harvard, I am not convinced. As I contrast my
graduate experience at Harvard with my undergraduate experience at the
University of Florida, I am even less sure significant resources should be
expended attempting to revive “goodness” at Harvard when better alternatives exist.
Schools like the University of Florida have the requisite leadership, moral fortitude, and resources to serve as
training grounds for our nation’s leaders. As a graduate of both universities,
I believe investing in and supporting the ability of institutions like UF to
compete with Harvard through initiatives such as the Hamilton Center make
it more likely that goodness will prevail in our society — even if it doesn’t
survive at Harvard.
I remember my acceptance to the Harvard Kennedy School
like it was yesterday. It was 11:00 p.m. and I was exhausted, having
worked late at my consulting job in Paris. As soon as I read the first line
with the word “congratulations,” I shrieked with joy, forgetting my fatigue. I
celebrated into the night. As with every ambitious girl who had perhaps watched
Legally Blonde too many times, attending Harvard had been my lifelong
dream, and I had made it. Three years and a joint MBA later, I can’t begin to
muster even a hint of enthusiasm for my Ivy League alma mater— but it’s still
great to be a Florida Gator.
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