Susan Webb
I don’t know where we’ll be with the state of our many wars by the time you read this. The geopolitical picture is incredibly disheartening, and it doesn’t look like it will improve much anytime soon. But whether we’re talking about the war in Ukraine or the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, one thing is certain: Institutions are making statements. They’re sending out press releases and newsletters and posting to social media to ensure that their position is known. And yet, it has become increasingly unclear how useful it is to take a position.
In the wake of the gut-wrenchingly awful attacks by Hamas, some students at Harvard University wrote letters in support of Israel while others wrote a letter condemning that country’s violent actions in Gaza. The condemnation letter garnered a backlash that even the president of Harvard joined in on. Larry Summers, a former Harvard president and U.S. Treasury Secretary, jumped into the fray, demanding that the university make a stronger statement in support of Israel.
But if Harvard were to make some kind of definitive statement, is it possible that it would ultimately limit speech among students and faculty? What role does a university, a business, or any other kind of organization have in this kind of statement-making? Should Harvard take a position, as Summers would have it, or should students independently air their opinions on the quad in their chaotic but potentially educational manner?
If a university doesn’t want to take a clear stand, they can do what my alma mater did and say something that’s hard to disagree with. Barely anyone is pro-violence, so for President Martha Pollack of Cornell University to say that “our community must, as it always has, stand against hatred of all forms” sounds utterly unobjectionable. As I read it, I thought that it goes without saying, although I suppose it’s nice to be reminded that such an august school is against hatred.
Some students might wonder why there are statements about Ukraine and Israel but none about Yemen. Are we creating a slippery statement slope in which some wars are “statement-worthy” while others aren’t? If you don’t make a statement about Yemen but do make a statement about Ukraine, does it mean that the university doesn’t care about the lives lost in Yemen? Obviously not, but we live in an era of Internet nitpicking, so this kind of critique is sure to emerge.
A statement without heft might just be adding to a cacophony of statements.
Then there’s the University of Chicago and its Kalven Report, which sought to determine which position the university would take in the midst of simmering domestic tensions in the late 1960s. The report’s conclusion was neutrality: The University of Chicago “is the home and sponsor of critics; it is not itself the critic.” This also makes sense; let the students protest, speak out, and formulate an ethos that might alter public sentiment.
This gets to the question of impact. A statement’s effect is murky. A rare occasion when a statement could have a serious impact is when divestment and endowments are concerned. That’s when a university is literally putting money where its policy is. Divesting from fossil fuels, for example, can have real consequences. But a statement without that heft might just be adding to a cacophony of statements.
Then, of course, there is the question about to what degree an institution should be making a statement at all. Justin Krebs, of MoveOn.org, noted on my podcast, Fake the Nation, that his elementary school PTA had grappled with making a statement on Israel—everyone wanted to take an anti-violence stand, but it also felt weird to include it in between bake sale announcements and reminders about class photos. If the PTA is supposed to make a statement, does that mean the dentist and local bowling alley need to make statements, too?
We have entered an age of statement-making where their frequency and directionless spread have somehow neutered the power of the statement in the first place.