I’m not ready to reconfigure my wardrobe, but I’m impressed that Steve Kerr, coach of the Golden State Warriors, opted to wear a Harvard Basketball shirt to the post-game press conference.
Very successful as a coach, Kerr has a lot going on, although this is the first connection to Harvard University that I’ve heard of.
The t-shirt was a way to open the post-game press talk to other issues, like research and academic freedom. Kerr explained:
“I believe in academic freedom. I think it’s crucial for all of our institutions to be able to handle their own business the way they want to — and they should not be shaken down, told what to teach, what to say by our government. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, but it’s kind of par for the course right now. Yes, this is me supporting Harvard. Way to go. Way to stand up to the bully.”
You’d expect Harvard’s resistance to the Trump administration’s demands to echo, although not necessarily in professional sports.
So many people are angry at Columbia University. For whatever reason, the Trump administration went after Columbia first, pausing government grants and demanding concessions. Columbia complied quickly and appears ready to do more.
Many faculty at Columbia and many more across the nation were critical of the university’s administration’s solicitous response to the Trump Administration. The Faculty Senate published a report contending that the critical occupation of Hamilton Hall could have been managed and ended without resort to New York City Police. It’s not just that university administration energetically responded to all of the Trump Administration’s initial demands, but also that Columbia police helped ICE agent gain access to student residences.
Meanwhile, faculty and some administrators elsewhere are determined NOT to follow Columbia’s compliance. Nothing coordinated has emerged; after all, professors are notoriously bad at coordinating on anything. Still, administrators and others are prospecting approaches to protect their academic independence and their students.
Here’s what I’ve seen so far:
Tufts University president Sunil Kumar issued a statement of support for Rümeysa Öztürk, a doctoral student in psychology who had a student visa, who was picked up by masked ICE officers on the streets of Somerville, apparently for signing an article in the student paper criticizing Tufts’ president’s policies. Kumar filed a declaration in support of Öztürk’s legal team, certifying that she was in good academic standing and had violated no university rules. Kumar demanded due process.
Legally contest and refuse to comply with unlawful demands that threaten academic freedom and university self-governance. Freedom from political interference has allowed American universities to lead the world in scientific and medical innovation, from which our entire country benefits.
Work with other universities and Harvard’s own alumni networks to mount a coordinated opposition to these anti-democratic attacks.
Brown University president Christina H. Paxson, issued a long statement describing the long history of government support for higher education and research more generally, recommitting to “upholding…ethical and legal obligations under…the Civil Rights Act of 1964,” and announcing that Brown would continue to support its international students with resources “in the face of new challenges.” She also promised to protect academic freedom.
President Eisgruber, blessed with resources AND courage, may be the exemplar of the moment. The Trump Administration went after the biggest names in higher ed to intimidate everyone else. But those schools have reservoirs of support to fight back. Eisgruber, apparently, understands this fact.
Larry Summers, former Secretary of the Treasury and former president of Harvard University, understands it as well. Writing in The New York Times last weekend, he excoriated the Administration, underscored the threat to higher education and America, and urged resistance. And, as an aside to today’s Ivy League presidents, whispered,
“They should make clear that their formidable financial endowments are not there to simply be envied or admired. Part of their function is to be drawn down in the face of emergencies, and covering federal funding lapses surely counts as one. Believe me, a former president of Harvard, when I say that ways can be found in an emergency to deploy even parts of the endowment that have been earmarked by their donors for other uses.”
To this point, there are no signs of a unified response; like the Big Law firms, the lack of coordination makes each target more vulnerable. At some point, some of these people who demonstrated brilliance on standardized tests will realize it.
[Note: In 2015, in response to a student occupation of his office, Eisgruber began an examination of the careers of some of the notables Princeton had honored with building names; in 2020, he renamed some of those buildings and programs, stripping former Princeton President Woodrow Wilson’s name. (Wilson also served as president of the United States and left a record of white supremacy that was, in Eisgruber’s judgment, notable even for the time.) ]
Hands Off announced the massive collection of demonstrations long before the stock markets crashed and analysts upped their odds of a national (or global) recession—and increased inflation. Even so, there was room to add yet another grievance to the anti-Trump/pro-democracy protests. Plenty of issues–including migration/rendition, free speech, government layoffs, climate, taxes, and Medicaid cuts–already had signs and picketers, but as long as there were markers and placards, there could be more. Donald Trump and the extraordinarily complaisant Republican Party, united them all..
Activists across the country staged protests everywhere, totaling more than 1,400 events. Many organizations pitched in with the organizing, producing varieties in tone. The inventory of grievances was capacious and inclusive, varying from place to place, but there was a unified message: opposition to the Trump Administration. Pictures from New York, Chicago, and Milwaukee showed impressive crowds–Boston media estimated nearly 100,000 protesters on the Boston Common. Organizers reported a cumulative turnout of more than 5.2 million people participating. That’s substantially more than turn up to watch Fox News nightly, or even CBS News.
Will any of it matter? How? Journalists, like Gal Beckerman at The Atlantic, wondered if the much larger number of smaller demonstrations would be more (or less) influential than the mass turnout events in Washington, DC that started with the Women’s March. Wrong question.
Demonstrations, large and small, don’t often exercise much influence by themselves, but by connecting and intensifying all sorts of other events, most of which never make it into the newspapers.
I saw a big turnout (5,000 people) in Santa Ana, California, with thousands assembled in Sasscer Park, where my new Congressman, Dave Min, aired out a slurry of Trump sins. If the protests worked, Rep. Min will stay committed, meet with constituents who share the concern, and continue his efforts in Washington. Protest stiffens the spines of supporters.
And I’ve been obsessed with Omaha, Nebraska, where thousands rallied in a park with a similar litany of gripes. Their Republican congressman, Don Bacon, didn’t speak at the rally, but he’s been critical about Trump’s policy in Ukraine and angry at the prospect of cuts to Medicaid. And just yesterday, he announced that he would introduce a bill in the House reclaiming Congressional authority on tariffs. Trump lost the city of Omaha in 2024, when Bacon narrowly won reelection. If the protest worked, Bacon will meet with some of those protesters and display at least a little less loyalty to the slight Republican majority in the House.
Demonstrations are the visible exclamation points in the longer stories of social movements, animating all sorts of less visible efforts. Demonstrations everywhere makes it a little bit easier for business leaders to express doubts about the tariff strategy. A local demonstration that a spouse or child attends could well be the last straw that encourages the partner at a large law firm to join 500 other firms and sign onto Perkins Coie’s lawsuit against the president.
Influence is about the accumulation of efforts and actions. If this Resistance grows, there will be a lot of attention to the Hands Off protests, but they’re just a part of the story.
The influence of popular protests at Tesla dealerships is starting to play out as Republicans realize that Elon Musk is a mixed blessing, at best, for their political futures. We can get a good sense of the often indirect ways in which protests play out.
So, people with grievances about Trump administration initiatives–and there are plenty of them–are constantly looking for something meaningful to do. In 2017, during Trump I, the initial wave of opposition assembled in a parade of weekly protests in Washington DC, starting with the Women’s March. This time IS different.
We haven’t seen big national demonstrations on the National Mall, activists have staged more protest events than in 2017, scattered across the United States. (We can follow this with the help of the Crowd Counting Consortium, which has been tracking protest events across all sorts of causes since 2017. Jeremy Pressman and Erica Chenoweth started the project because they wanted to get reliable information on protest events that might escape coverage in mainstream media.) The events aren’t as big, but many people are involved, and they’re working with neighbors in local groups that can continue to stage events, attend candidate forums, and build a vital resistance.
While the logic of a protest in front of the Lincoln Memorial seems obvious: assemble large numbers on a national stage to show popular support for your position and watch everyone else respond.
But at the local level, there are more possibilities and more complications. The first issue is finding a target and a tactic. It’s fine to assemble at a City Hall, but lots of Trump opponents don’t have major grievances with their local governments. They payoff isn’t so clear.
In contrast, Elon Musk has made himself a big target for all kinds of gripes about the Trump presidency, particularly the massive lay-offs executed by the so-called Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE). Supported by some version of Artificial Intelligence and aided by a team of young coders processing spreadsheets, Musk has ended the jobs of tens of thousands of people, making conspicuous mistakes along the way. Maybe it’s even more important that he’s expressed apparent delight with every lost job, and has appeared gleeful and provocative in public. It’s almost as if he wanted to be a target.
Musk’s close association with Tesla, the electric vehicle company that he bought and promoted, made dealerships a particularly attractive target. They’re all over the place and visible. So are the protests. The demonstrators worked to stigmatize the cars, and also to signal Trump’s opponents that there were lots of angry people willing to take action. The protests showed people concerned about layoffs or Ukraine or reproductive rights or the budget or tax justice (and so on) that they were not alone. It matters.
The protests were also a signal to Trump’s supporters that their allegiance could have costs. Tesla’s stock price cratered after a post-election spike, which means that Musk and his investors lost money; a responsible Board of Directors, considering its fiduciary duties, would surely urge Musk to step back from politics a little. (Apparently, Tesla does not have such a Board.) The Secretary of Commerce (illegally) promoted the stock on television, while Trump himself turned the White House driveway into a showroom and himself into a shill for at least one kind of electric car.
Meanwhile, Musk has flexed, mostly with money, politically, attacking opponents and judges while promoting himself. He’s threatened elected Republicans who think twice before supporting whatever Trump wants, promising to find and fund primary opponents for each of them.
And he invested mightily in a high-profile election for the swing seat on the Wisconsin Supreme Court, dropping $25 million on conservative Brad Schimel’s candidacy. Susan Crawford defeated Schimel handily, winning by about 10 points. Even more important, Musk provided focus and publicity for Crawford’s candidacy. His presence in the race, and in a cheesehead, helped Democrats raise money from across the country and turn out voters in Wisconsin. Voting for Crawford was a way to vote against Musk.
This week’s election showed Musk is a political liability. Although Republicans still want Musk’s money, it would be better if they could get it without a personal handoff.
The challenge for Donald Trump and the Republicans is to find some way to push Musk off the stage without giving up access to the hundreds of millions he’s been willing to spend. It’s not clear they’ll be able to pull it off, but Trump has already announced that Musk will be leaving….soon. The question is whether he’ll leave some money in the cushions at the White House.
To hammer the point: The Tesla demonstrations focused attention on Elon Musk, all his assets and liabilities, and exposed the political risks associated with allowing him to front for the administration. That’s a win.
It’s sometimes hard to see a critical moral and political choice even when it lands in your lap. But some people are blessed (or cursed) with the vision to see it way in advance. When Paul Weiss negotiated a deal to provide Trump with $40 million worth of pro bono services, Rachel Cohen, a young associate at another very large and prestigious firm, saw what was coming–intense pressure on the most visible firms to abandon basic principles of legal ethics and responsibility to protect their bottom line. The Trump Administration was determined to punish firms that represented clients and causes that Trump didn’t like, and firms that employed people who had investigated Trump and his, uh, associates.
Cohen, a finance associate with nearly three years in at Skadden Arps and a Harvard Law degree, saw that she was sitting on the tracks with a freight train full of moral dilemma approaching fast. She gave notice–conditionally, along with an explanation, and an ask. Alarmed that lawyers will be reluctant to represent anyone at odds with the administration, and she called upon Skadden and other large firms to stand up for the rule of law. She posted her revocable resignation on her LinkedIn page.
For an associate to threaten to quit is a big deal. Getting hired at one of these large firms is extremely competitive. Associates work long hours and make a lot of money, particularly helpful in paying off the expensive high status law degrees they earned (and paid for). Some work to succeed on a partner track and build a career in corporate law. Others work to develop expertise and make connections that provide the foundation for other legal careers. Giving up such a position is a serious cost.
It’s an ongoing battle, and it’s an open question whether pressure from young associates will affect the large firms’ decisions. A few other associates have left Skadden and other cooperating firms, and other letters of protest are circulating, including one signed by Harvard Law alumni who want to support the rule of law. Anna Bower, a senior editor at Lawfare, has been tracking different strands of resistance on her bluesky feed.
Meanwhile, Rachel Cohen is using the attention of the moment to explain, again and again, why this moment is critical and why lawyers have an obligation to do more. (Read the interview in ABAJournal.) Her resignation letter, recalling the flights of imagination and reflection that good teachers promote when teaching about historical horrors, should evoke a moral reckoning for lawyers, to be sure, but for the rest of us as well. We all imagine that we would have sided with the heroes when we page through texts about evils like slavery or genocide, but most people didn’t.
Most of us wouldn’t have thought powerful resistance would come from a finance associate at a large corporate law firm or, for that matter, an Acting US Attorney in the Federalist Society. But Rachel Cohen and Danielle Sassoon are heroes and exemplars at this point in resistance, even if they’re not marching or carrying signs. Effective activism takes many different forms. But the first step, they realized, is recognizing the moral dilemma that most of us have been able to ignore.
Commemoration of Cesar Chavez Day is an annual ritual in California–and in Politics Outdoors.
The day is a chance to reflect on Chavez, the movement he led, which continues, and the issues he and that movement addressed. (It also seems to be a good opportunity to return to writing here, with the chance to repost, reconsider, and update writing from past years.) Recalling his career, organizing and mobilizing a mostly migrant Latino workforce, is particularly important now…just when the Trump administration wants to purge all the details from public notice.
In 2018, less than a week after Edna Chavez, the charismatic then-seventeen year old high schooler from South Los Angeles, electrified a national crowd with a demand to end gun violence, Californians celebrated the legacy of another Chavez.
On my campus, we commemorated Cesar Chavez Day on Friday, rather than Monday, March 31 (his birthday), by closing. The state established the holiday in 2000, and six other states have followed suit. In California, the legislature calls upon public schools to develop appropriate curricula to teach about the farm labor movement in the United States, and particularly Chavez’s role in it.
A campaign to establish a national holiday has stalled so far (The Cesar Chavez National holiday website seems to have last been updated in 2008), but at one point President Obama issued a proclamation announcing a day of commemoration, and calling upon all Americans “to observe this day with appropriate service, community, and education programs to honor Cesar Chavez’s enduring legacy.”
That feels like a long time ago.
Political figures have many reasons for creating holidays, including remembering the past; identifying heroic models for the future; recognizing and cultivating a political constituency; and providing an occasion to appreciate a set of values. Regardless of the original meaning, the holidays take on new meanings over time. Columbus Day, for example, is celebrated as an occasion for pride in Italian Americans (e.g.), and commemorated and mourned as a symbol of genocide and empire (e.g.).
Cesar Chavez’s life and work is well worth remembering and considering, particularly now. His career as a crusader was far longer than that of Martin Luther King discussed (here and here) and he was far more of an organizer than Fred Korematsu (discussed here). Chavez’s Medal of Freedom was awarded shortly after his death in 1993, by President Clinton, but many of his accomplishments were apparent well before then.
Dolores Huerta, 2009
As a young man, Chavez was an agricultural worker; by his mid-twenties, he became a civil rights organizer, working for the Community Service Organization in California. With Dolores Huerta, in 1962 Chavez founded the National Farm Workers Association, which later became the United Farm Workers. Focusing on poor, mostly Mexican-American workers, Chavez’s vision for activism was right at the cornerstone of racial and economic justice. Establishing an organization, however, is a long way from winning recognition and bargaining rights as a union.
Chavez was a tactician, a public figure, a charismatic, and something of a mystic. Modeling his efforts after Gandhi’s successful campaigns, Chavez was an emphatic practitioner of active nonviolence. He employed boycotts, strikes, long fasts, demonstrations, long marches, and religious rhetoric in the service of his cause. He also registered voters, lobbied, and worked in political campaigns. He was a tireless and very effective organizer for most of his life.
But holidays are best celebrated with an eye to the future, rather than the past.
On Cesar Chavez Day this year, we can think about the large and growing Latino community in the United States. The 2020 Census reports that Latinos now comprise 18.7% of the population nationally. This is the youngest and fastest-growing population in America today, and they are severely underrepresented in the top levels of politics, education, and the economy. The civil rights map is at least as complicated as at any time in American history, but not less important or urgent. The future of American Latinos is very much the future of America.
And Chavez saw the civil rights struggle as a labor issue. When Chavez and Huerta started
their campaign, nearly one third of Americans were represented by unions. The percentage now is now less than 10 percent, and even less in the private sector. Donald Trump has issued an executive order, banning collective bargaining for many federal employees. This probably isn’t legal.
And public sector workers, even if represented by unions aren’t doing so well. In 2018, the Supreme Court issued a ruling in Janus vs. AFSCME,that undermined the capacity of unions to organize and represent members by allowing workers to opt out of membership and paying dues.
Still, organizers and some observers find some encouragement in unionization campaigns at Amazon and Starbucks. Still, the larger picture is dark. In the moment, the Trump administration is vilifying teachers and firing other government workers
We need to remember that you can’t attack teachers, nurses, police officers, and firefighters without hurting the people they serve: us.
Or should I say, US?
We commemorate the past to help guide the future. Edna Chavez, working in an urban setting far from Cesar Chavez’s organizing, carried the legacy forward, and adds more.
The Trump Resistance I featured large numbers of people who went out of their way to confront legal and moral threats. Millions turned out for demonstrations, when they could have stayed at home. Thousands braved traffic or mass transit to mass on airports, demonstrating against the “Muslim Ban” and even offering free legal services to travelers caught in the chaos. They jumped into Resistance they could have easily ignored.
Most of the time most of us can get through our days without having to feel a sense of moral courage or compromise. We work, eat, and sleep, doing our best to navigate the world as it is. Even talk of politics is an add-on, not always connected to day-to-day routines.
But sometimes individuals are faced with an explicit choice about whether to contest injustice, or to comply with authorities. Donald Trump and his Administration have vigorously forced the issue, demanding explicit compliance, often wrapped in extraneous flattery. Recognizing the moment of Resistance and taking risks or losses to do what’s right may look obvious in retrospect, but refusing to comply is never easy or simple.
The University administrators forced to explain away the policies they may have endorsed weeks earlier surely never expected this sort of moment. It shouldn’t be surprising that it’s easier to genuflect to Trump and hope to keep federal dollars coming into the school. Compliance, usually quiet, is what we should expect.
When an individual recognizes the chance to compromise themselves and opts not to do so, it should provide a bit of inspiration to the rest of us–and it happens–sometimes at great cost to the resister. Most of Trump’s early Republican critics renounced their initial evaluations of an orange menace, and were able to flatter their way back into their leader’s good graces, even when it means revising political commitments on short notice. The relative few who did not retreat (e.g., Justin Amash, Jeff Flake, Bob Corker, Liz Cheney, Adam Kinzinger, Mitt Romney) are now way out of politics, living cautions to everyone else about the costs of resistance.
But people continue to resist, often at a serious cost. Danielle Sassoon, Acting Assistant US Attorney for the Southern District of New York, was far along in developing a high flying conservative legal career. But she refused to sign a motion to dismiss a corruption case against New York Mayor Eric Adams, when asked to do so. The obvious and easy thing to have done would be to sign. Sassoon, explicitly considering her professional oath and obligations, resigned instead, writing a long letter to explain why. A member of the Federalist Society, with degrees from Harvard and Yale, and two prestigious clerkships with conservative jurists (J. Harvie Wilkinson and Antonin Scalia), she was putting a lot on the line–but she was also extremely well-positioned to survive even in exile from the Trumpians. Seven young lawyers in the Department of Justice joined her, but there’s always someone willing to do the dirty deed. As Hagan Scotten, one of the lawyers who quit rather than comply, put it:
“Any assistant U.S. attorney would know that our laws and traditions do not allow using the prosecutorial power to influence other citizens, much less elected officials. If no lawyer within earshot of the President is willing to give him that advice, then I expect you will eventually find someone who is enough of a fool, or enough of a coward, to file your motion. But it was never going to be me.”
Every act of resistance–or visible compliance–matters, affecting how hard it is for the next person in line to resist. Sassoon, Scotten, and their colleagues exercised their responsibility with enough integrity–and flare–to make it a little less scary and difficult for someone else to violate their professional obligations in the service of fealty to the Trump Administration.
Don’t expect all lawyers to follow the model.
Trump has forced similar choices upon the largest, richest, and most prestigious law firms, issuing orders to punish three large firms, Paul Weiss, Perkins Coie, and Covington and Burling for offenses that would best be descried as normal legal work for people Trump doesn’t like. Trump’s orders stripped security clearances, banning firms from government contracts, and restricting lawyers in the firms from entering designated federal buildings. All of this makes it harder–or impossible–for the firms to represent some of their clients.
Perkins Coie and Covington and Burling have signaled resistance, with an endorsement from the American Bar Association. Perkins Coie engaged representation from another large firm, Williams and Connolly, and filed a suit against the government. Now Williams also risks Trump’s wrath and wary clients’ flight. Perkins is also posting updates from the case on its website, along with an explanation for its decision. A long expensive and difficult fight now looms.
But Paul Weiss cut a deal with Trump, who reversed the Executive Order affecting the firm in exchange for the promise of $40 million dollars of pro bono services for causes that Trump cares about. Trump rescinded the strictures on the firm.
To be sure, fighting Trump’s initiatives is costly. Some clients will leave or be turned away, and managing partners care about the financial health of their massive firms, hundreds of lawyers and many more other employees.
Other large firms are watching the pressures and the choices as they make their own decisions about taking sides. Some have issued statements of support for Perkins, the traditional obligations of attorneys, and the rule of law–even acknowledging that resistance may have costs. Anna Bower, an editor at Lawfare, has maintained a thread of BigLaw acts of resistance. Meanwhile, Trump has targeted other firms for a shakedown.
It’s a fright night Halloween scene. If you knock on one door and get candy, you’ll keep walking and knocking until stopped.
Choices matter. Recognizing that there are choices is the first critical step.
Columbia University’s surrender to the Trump Administration’s initial demands was unsurprising; its enthusiasm in raising the White flag was. Columbia’s administration announced a raft of new policies on free speech, student discipline, admissions, and academic administration, all in hopes of recovering some of the $400 million the Trump administration holds hostage. The concessions are unlikely to work for Columbia, although they’re sure to encourage the Trump Administration to broaden its own attack.
Columbia’s concession was always the most likely response. Faculty, students, and funders split on many of the immediate issues, as well as an appropriate response to being bullied, and $400 million–the initial cut–is a lot of money. (Apparently, the exact sum represented the amount Trump believed the university had cost him in a failed real estate deal.) Resisting would have been divisive, expensive, and time-consuming; depending on judicial vindication and remedy takes a long time and is never a sure bet. It would have required a commitment to principle and tolerance for confrontation that would get in the way of advancement in any career in academic administration.
Of course, there’s been plenty of blowback from other academics–although not, as yet, many university presidents. Some prospective students and professors blessed with choices will announce their personal rejection of Columbia, while the Trump administration, observing a conspicuous flinch across the bargaining table, will up its demands. Indeed, TheNew York Times quotes a Department of Justice lawyer involved with the case that the university will have to clean up its act in order to get funding again, noting “They’re not even close, not even close to having those funds unfrozen.”
On the other hand, the Trump Administration, buoyed by the humiliation of one Ivy League University, has extended its battle down the Northeast corridor to take on another, announcing a pause in a somewhat more modest $175 million in funds due the University of Pennsylvania. (Apparently, Trump wasn’t trying to sell real estate in Philadelphia.)
The Trump Administration’s ask of Penn isn’t quite so clear. Trump has, however, announced that he’s still angry Penn fielded a transgender swimmer, Lia Thomas, on its women’s team. The controversy about Thomas’s participation made a big splash at the NCAA championship meet in 2022, when she won the 500 yard freestyle, exposing a previously undiscovered audience for women’s swimming.
For what it’s worth, Thomas was in compliance with NCAA rules at the time; so was Penn. Since then, Thomas has graduated and the NCAA has revised its rules. As far as I know, Penn isn’t fielding transgender women in any NCAA sport. What’s being punished now? Still, the legacy of the conflict has its own ongoing impact. Riley Gaines, an accomplished swimmer beaten by Thomas in a big race, was particularly visible in calling Penn and the NCAA out, and translated her efforts into a paid position as a conservative Christian provocateur. She’s nurturing her own political future. (By the way, there were even more accomplished women swimmers who supported Thomas.)
History remains a burden. Without a time machine, Penn can’t comply with Trump’s concerns. Of course, I appreciate the urge to rectify institutional sins of the past. I note that some universities, including Brown and Georgetown, have undertaken reparations efforts for their profits from slavery. Both of those programs look very much like effective DEI efforts that the Trump administration wants to end. What makes the 2022 500 Freestyle championship different?
Taking hostages is an act of terror. Kidnappers hold more and less innocents to gain attention, extort money, and bully others into doing something they don’t want to do. Taking hostages is morally reprehensible and widely recognized as a war crime.
To punish Columbia University and intimidate institutions of researchers, scholars, and students, the Trump administration cancelled $400 million of grants and contracts. Like virtually all research universities, Columbia, depends on grant funding to support its extensive research efforts, as well as the underlying infrastructure that supports research. Although some researchers need little more than time and a good library, lab scientists spend a lot of money on labor (students, postdoctoral felloows, and technicians), equipment (like microscopes and cell counters), and supplies (like gloves). Because lab science costs so much more than anything happening in humanities and social sciences, Columbia’s medical school appears to have taken the biggest hits. Note, however, that the medical school is a subway ride of about two miles north of the main campus–where all the protest took place.
I couldn’t find a list of the canceled research grants, but some scientists posted anguished post-mortems of their projects on maternal mortality, diabetes, or fibroid tumors. I assume the scientists whose research has been taken hostage–if they think about the Middle East at all–hold a broad variety of political opinions. But their culpability is far less important than their vulnerability; without federal monies, jobs are lost and research stalls. Even a limited interruption risks the development of knowledge and the careers of young scientists. Researchers who spent hours and years competing for grants, want their money back and their work to resume. Of course. And Columbia wants the scientists back at the lab bench generating knowledge and indirect costs.
The Trump administration recognizes that it can punish scientists to coerce university administrations to do what they want–mostly, punishing student protesters. The administration describes the offense as antisemitism, but it’s very clear that Donald Trump wants to still pro-Palestinian activism and, more generally, any opposition to his rule. Moreover, the Administration is more than willing to punish third (and fourth and fifth) parties for what it sees as Columbia’s crimes. Standing up for scientific progress within the Administration is an obvious non-starter.
University administrators are among the least likely resisters to the this kind of punishment. A college president’s job is all about mediating differences among student, faculty, and funder constituencies. Presidents must entertain–and be entertained by–would-be funders of medical research, studies of all corners of the world, buildings, and financial aid for students–and so much else. The cultivation of ostensibly arcane knowledge plays poorly in populist politics.
Still, Columbia’s quiescent caving was striking, if understandable.
If Columbia ever wants research money again, the Administration explained, there’s a lot to be done. A letter signed by representatives of the General Services Administration, the Department of Education, and the Department of Health and Human Services issued a set of demands that included harsh and specific punishments of disruptive student protesters, as well as moving campus discipline from a judicial board to the president’s office. The Administration also called for unspecified admissions reforms and putting the the Department of Middle East, South Asian, and African Studies under academic receivership for a minimum of five years. If all of this is done, and quickly, the Administration announced, they would be willing to discuss next steps to allow the University to “return…to its original mission of innovative research and academic excellence.”
Columbia University followed quickly with announcements of expulsions and multi-year suspensions for students associated with the occupation of Hamilton Hall, as well as the revocation of some degrees, unusually harsh penalties, with more to come. Specific punishments for particular student offenses are not public–which is appropriate. (Try to find Donald Trump’s college transcript!) But Columbia clearly communicated to it would jump in response to the Administration’s orders–and vigorously. All of this is understandable–and wrong. (A group of five political science professors explained that the Administration could do better in explaining the consequences of quiescence.)
The problem with negotiating with kidnappers is that you encourage more kidnapping.
The Trump administration will keep demanding more until, at least, the demands stop working. The Department of Education sent letters to 60 other prominent schools, announcing unspecified investigations that could lead to unspecified but easily imaginable punishments. Don’t expect university presidents to lead the resistance.
The Trump administration was very clear that Mahmoud Khalil was an example; ICE officers arrested, jailed, and planned deportation to teach everyone else a lesson. The government intends to deport Khalil, a legal permanent resident (green card), because he had been visible in representing the volatile pro-Palestine, anti-Gaza destruction, encampment at Columbia University.
Khalil, armed with a newly awarded Master of Public Administration degree, isn’t a particularly dangerous threat, but he is a powerful example. Unlike other student activists, Khalil isn’t accused of harassing anyone or destroying property, or of breaking Columbia’s rules or US laws. He did, however, criticize support of Israel’s Gaza War. He’s being punished not for what he did, but for why he did it.
The Trump administration doesn’t want those protests, expressed opposition to its grand plans for a beach resort cleared of Palestinians on the narrow Gaza Strip, or any visible action against the administration. By dispensing with basic free speech protections and any due process, it’s sending that message to everyone–particularly to immigrant and student activists.
The basic principle underlying free speech is that advocacy of unpopular causes doesn’t constitute criminal conduct, and a cause favored by a powerful figure doesn’t justify vandalism or assault, much less greater crimes.
All of this means that Khalil’s case should be the concern of anyone who cares about the Constitution and civil liberties. Mahmoud Khalil serves as a canary in the coal mine; his persecution is a signal and a symptom of a comprised democracy.
Columbia University is a somewhat bigger canary. (More to come)
I'm a professor of sociology and political science at the University of California, Irvine. I've been thinking, and writing about, protest politics for almost ever. This site offers comments on contemporary events, informed (I hope) by knowing something about history and about the academic study of social movements.
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Politics Outdoors 