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Academic boycotts, activism and the academy
Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997 www.elsevier.com/locate/polgeo
Academic boycotts, activism and the academy David Storey* Department of Applied Sciences, Geography and Archaeology, University College Worcester, Henwick Grove, Worcester WR2 6AJ, United Kingdom Received 23 March 2005
Abstract Recent media controversy surrounding the acceptance and publication of an article from Israeli-based academics in Political Geography raises serious questions concerning academic boycotts and ideas of academic freedom. This short article provides some brief background at efforts to boycott Israeli academic institutions and outlines some of the issues surrounding the appropriateness of such boycotts in general and of Israel in particular. More specifically it examines the issues of academic freedom, and the equity, effectiveness and flexibility of academic boycotts. Ó 2005 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved. Keywords: Academic boycotts; Academia; Israel; Activism
The recent submission and subsequent publication of an article by two Israelibased geographers brought this journal into debates over a boycott of Israeli academic institutions. Issues associated with the submission of the article generated media coverage which was not always accurate (see for example Beckett, 2002). When the journal article by Yiftachel and Ghanem (2004) ultimately appeared, it was preceded by ‘twin’ editorials from the co-editors John O’Loughlin and David Slater. It appears that Slater had initially declined to accept the article due to his support for a boycott of Israeli institutions initiated by the British-based academics Steven and * Corresponding author. Tel.: C44 1905 855189; fax: C44 1905 855132. E-mail address: [email protected] 0962-6298/$ - see front matter Ó 2005 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved. doi:10.1016/j.polgeo.2005.06.007
D. Storey / Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997
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Hilary Rose. Slater appears to have subsequently modified his stance and in his editorial he draws a distinction between Israeli institutions and individual academics. O’Loughlin states that the media coverage resulted in the drafting of an editorial policy statement endorsed by the majority of the editorial board (two people abstained) and confirming that it is not journal policy to refuse manuscripts from Israel. O’Loughlin has invited responses to this and this current piece reflects upon the issues associated with academic boycotts in general and of Israel in particular.
Academic boycott of Israel The call for an academic boycott of Israel was originally initiated in 2002 by Steven Rose (Professor of Biology at the Open University) and Hilary Rose (Professor of Social Policy at Bradford University) and disseminated through organisations such as Academics for Justice (http://academicsforjustice.org/) and the British Committee for Universities of Palestine (http://www.bricup.org.uk/). It calls for the exclusion of Israel from the European Research Area and for individual academics to break their research links with Israel through such actions as refusal to referee papers or grant applications emanating from Israeli academic institutions and refusal to attend conferences in Israel. The UK trade union National Association of Teachers in Further and Higher Education (NATFHE) has endorsed a resolution calling for the severing of academic links with Israel (http:// www.natfhe.org.uk/down/pal10.doc) while the Association of University Teachers (AUT) has called for a moratorium on European funding of Israeli research (http:// www.aut.org.uk/index.cfm?articleidZ122). In April 2005 the AUT voted to boycott two Israeli Universities, a decision which was subsequently overturned. Similar initiatives have arisen in other countries. These calls have been echoed by requests from Palestinian academic, professional and trade union organizations, under the Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel (PACBI), ‘‘to comprehensively and consistently boycott all Israeli academic and cultural institutions’’ (http://www.bricup.org.uk/) and similar calls from individual Palestinian academics (Taraki, 2004). Not surprisingly, these developments have generated considerable discussion about the appropriateness of academic boycotts in general as well as the efficacy of a specific boycott of Israel. As with the Yiftachel and Ghanem case, some incidents have generated heated debate. An example is that of Mona Baker, professor of translation studies at UMIST in the UK who sacked two members of the editorial boards of journals she partially owns and runs on the grounds that they were affiliated to Israeli academic institutions (Elbendary, 2003). This particular episode prompted UK Prime Minister Tony Blair to repudiate what he felt (incorrectly) to be discrimination on the basis of nationality (Elliott & Milner, 2002). Curiously, Blair’s distaste for a boycott in this instance is rather different to his stance on the England cricket team playing Zimbabwe! (Khan, 2003). The boycott has also prompted counter measures such as the emergence of Academics Against Boycott (http://www.aaisc.net/) and the circulation of counter-petitions (http://www.professors.org.il/petition/). There appear
994
D. Storey / Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997
to be a range of reasons employed by those opposing a boycott. Some object to academic boycotts as a matter of principle citing academic freedom, others argue in favour of the benefits of academic contact, while others appear critical of what they see as overly simplistic responses to a complex political situation. Amongst those critical of a boycott are some who suggest such actions constitute anti-Semitism (see for example Alexander, 2003; Gerstenfeld, 2003a, 2003b). In considering an academic boycott, there appear to be a number of issues that need to be teased out. Keys amongst these are issues of academic freedom, equity, effectiveness and flexibility.
Academic freedom While the arguments surrounding academic freedom sound intuitively appealing, the extent to which it can really be seen as an absolute principle that is always and everywhere sacrosanct is open to question. In his editorial, O’Loughlin (2004) upholds the tradition of academic freedom and invokes the International Council of Scientific Unions as justification for not boycotting academics or academic institutions. He suggests that while editors may be unhappy with aspects of the methodology and arguments presented by authors in articles submitted to journals, readers must be assured that ‘‘none was treated in an unfair manner, either favourably or unfavourably. As long as I am editor, this shall be the case’’ (O’Loughlin, 2004: 643). While this is in many respects laudable, and one suspects most academics are keen to invoke academic freedom when it suits, it also needs to be borne in mind that upholding the academic freedom of some, may indirectly at least limit the academic freedom of others. Like any other right or principle, that of academic freedom is likely to clash with other rights. Upholding the freedom of Israeli academics needs to be set alongside the freedom of academics in Palestine. Upholding the principle for some may have a negative impact on others. It might be argued that continuing to treat Israel as a ‘normal’ state implicitly legitimises Israeli state actions including its treatment of Palestinians. Steven and Hilary Rose (http://www.boycottisrael.org/ articles_rosesboycott150july02.htm) and Slater (2004) point to what they see as violations of Palestinian academic freedom. As Slater suggests in his editorial (p. 646) there is a need to ‘‘challenge the continuing transgression of academic freedom by states that fail to comply with international law’’. In other words it might be argued that a limited restriction on Israeli academics could effect positive changes for those in Palestinian academic institutions, not to mention a much larger number of nonacademic Palestinians. Many will argue that the nature of academia means that maintaining contacts is vitally important and may, in fact, contribute to greater understanding of the complexities of the IsraeliePalestinian situation, possibly contributing to positive change. It is almost certainly the case that our knowledge of the IsraeliePalestinian conflict is enhanced through maintaining such contacts. However, whether this has really contributed to positive change is another matter. Knowledge in and off itself does not give rise to change. Assuming that contact will bring about positive change
D. Storey / Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997
995
might be seen as something of an act of faith, similar in its own way to the assumption that a boycott can effect change. Neither boycotts nor continuing to maintain ‘normal’ contact are politically neutral. They both involve in making political judgements, the consequences of which may be difficult to determine. More broadly, however, it might be argued that the defence of academic freedom is built on dubious assumptions. The academy is far from a politically neutral arena and the supposedly free space of academia is continually eroded in a variety of ways due to commercial and political imperatives (Klein, 2001; Monbiot, 2000). In Geography, as for many other disciplines, there is a long history of co-operation with political projects, whether that be imperialism or with attempts to envision an alternative society. The idea that the academy exists in a strata separate from the messy reality of the ‘real world’ is impossible to sustain. The question therefore is not one of separating politics from academia but one of arguing for a particular type of academic politics e one that broadly accepts the status quo (subject perhaps to some minor tinkering) or one that rejects it and seeks to change things through more radical action. This also links into broader debates over activism and the academy, and the actual role played by academics. (Fuller & Kitchin, 2004; Kitchin & Hubbard, 1999).
Equity It could reasonably be asked why Israel should be selected as the target of a boycott rather than other regimes guilty of what many might see as human rights abuses. Certainly Russian policy, particularly in Chechnya, or recent events in Zimbabwe, might give cause to consider a boycott of institutions in those countries. More significantly perhaps, there is surely ample reason to boycott the US or UK academically and otherwise given the invasion and occupation of Afghanistan and Iraq, a point alluded to by Oren Yiftachel in a recent interview (Leibovich-Dar, 2005). Indeed the Pakistani politician and former cricketer Imran Khan (2003) suggested as much in the run-up to war in Iraq. There are a number of issues here, the first of which is a practical one in that there appears to be a sufficient groundswell of support for such actions against a state seen by many to behave in a repressive manner. Additionally, from a European or USA perspective it might be argued there is a particular relevance in that Israel enjoys the benevolent support of the USA and the west generally. Thus, it might be argued there is a particular responsibility on the part of academics in those countries to indicate their disgust, not just with Israel, but also with their own governments’ defence of Israeli actions. While some argue that attempts to boycott Israel are anti-Semitic, it should be pretty obvious that such arguments are pernicious and serve to nullify criticism in a way analogous to the invoking of anti-Americanism in attempts to disarm those critical of US foreign policy. While not denying the disturbing evidence of antiSemitism, it should be clear that criticism of the actions of a state and its government is not the same as racism. If that were the case, US and British anti-war protestors would have to be regarded as ‘self-haters’. Some such as Gerstenfeld (2003a, 2003b) seem to deliberately conflate actions against Israel with actions against Jews.
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D. Storey / Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997
Effectiveness Clearly, from the point of view of those wishing to effect change in Israel or elsewhere, an academic boycott is in itself not sufficient. The world is not likely to stop turning because academics refuse to attend Israeli conferences. Economic boycotts would appear more effective and the present calls for an academic boycott sit alongside campaigns to discourage the buying of Israeli goods (see http:// www.boycottisraeligoods.org/). These economic tactics also involve universities with divestment campaigns urging institutions not to invest in Israel, in Israeli corporations or in companies which invest in Israel (see http://www.divest-fromisrael-campaign.org/ and http://www.columbiadivest.org/). In this way an academic boycott is but one part in a broader campaign. It can be seen as a logical extension of related policies of isolation designed to hurt the target economically and culturally. Flexibility The current call for a boycott makes exceptions for those recognised as being ‘conscientious Israeli academics’ (http://www.bricup.org.uk/) opposed to Israeli policy. While this might appear appealing to proponents of a boycott, it becomes a highly subjective business which raises questions over who makes these decisions and who decides what is being sufficiently critical of Israel? The case of Baker’s dismissal of Israeli-based academics from her editorial boards was seized on in parts of the media because one of them was a critic of Israel. Likewise, the reporting of the Yiftachel-Ghanem controversy in this journal tended to highlight the left-wing and critical credentials of Yiftachel (see for example Lipkin, 2003). Slater’s reported comment that he was not sure how critical Yiftachel had been of Israel (O’Loughlin, 2004) highlights the problem of interpreting a boycott in a flexible manner. All of this suggests that even if boycotts are implemented by groups of academics, grey areas will inevitably remain surrounding the ways in which they may be implemented. Summary The issue of academic boycotts is far from straightforward. While some would argue that academics singly and collectively (e.g. an editorial board) should remain neutral such a concept in so inherently flawed as to be meaningless. Action and inaction both has political consequences. Therefore, the decision to be taken is inevitably a political one. If political change is seen as desirable in Israel, then the issue is one of determining whether a boycott or continuing engagement is the best way of bringing this about. It could be argued that a policy of engagement with Israeli academic institutions has done little to effect positive change. It might be argued that this is a matter for each individual academic but, while this is clearly true at some level, political action best takes place within a framework which enhances its prospects of success. Just as trade union membership serves to
D. Storey / Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997
997
strengthen individual responses through collective action, so a co-ordinated boycott is much more powerful than a series of un-co-ordinated individual responses. While O’Loughlin (2004) argues that a journal editor must set aside her or his own political views, it might be argued that an editor, together with members of an editorial board, could equally adopt a policy of non-co-operation with Israeli academic institutions. Such a stance is no more political than the journal’s current one. Individual academics can still dissent from this by not co-operating with a boycott and by forging their own links. Ultimately, this is a question of trade-offs, rather than the preservation of immutable principles. It is about what individual geographers and other academics feel best accords with their own political views and what actions might then be most in keeping with those views. Maintaining contact and severing contact are both political decisions, the only difference being that one is seen as ‘normal’ and, hence, less controversial than the other. Whatever the view one adopts, it is simply not tenable to see academia as existing above such messy political choices.
References Alexander, E. (January 7th 2003). Boycotting Israel: Back to 1933? The Jerusalem Post. www. frontpagemag.com/Articles/Printable.asp?IDZ5387. Beckett, A. (December 12th 2002). It’s water on stone e in the end the stone wears out. Guardian. http:// www.guardian.co.uk/print/0,3858,4565796-103680,00.html. Elbendary, A. (January 27th 2003). Descending the ivory tower. Al-Ahram Weekly. Available at: http:// www.monabaker.com/pMachine/more.php?idZ78_0_1_12_M5. Elliott, F., & Milner, C. (November 17th 2002). Blair vows to end dons’ boycott of Israeli scholars. Daily Telegraph. http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xmlZ/news/2002/11/17/nisr17.xml. Fuller, D., & Kitchin, R. (Eds.). (2004). Radical theory/critical praxis: Making a difference beyond the academy? Praxis (e)Press. Available at: http://www.praxis-epress.org/availablebooks/radicaltheorycriticalpraxis.html. Gerstenfeld, M. (2003a). The academic boycott against Israel. Jewish Political Studies Review, 15(3/4). http://www.jcpa.org/phas/phas-gersten-fo3.htm. Gerstenfeld (2003b). The academic boycott against Israel and how to fight it. Post Holocaust and AntiSemitism, 12. http://www.jcpa.org/phas/phas-12.htm. Khan, I. (January 24th 2003). Who’s the real villain? Guardian. http://www.guardian.co.uk/zimbabwe/ article/0,2763,881329,00.html. Kitchin, R., & Hubbard, P. (1999). Editorial: Research, action and ‘critical’ geographies. Area, 31(3), 195–198. Klein, N. (2001). No logo. London: Flamingo. Leibovich-Dar, S. (2005). Scholars under siege. http://www.haaretzdaily.com/hasen/pages/ShArt.jhtml? itemNoZ363485. Lipkin, B. (2003). Assisted suicide, Israeli academic style. http://www.think-israel.org/yiftachel.html. Monbiot, G. (2000). Captive state. The corporate takeover of Britain. London: Macmillan. O’Loughlin, J. (2004). Academic openness, boycotts and journal policy. Political Geography, 23(6), 641–643. Slater, D. (2004). Editorial comment: Academic politics and Israel/Palestine. Political Geography, 23(6), 645–646. Taraki (August 22nd 2004). Boycotting the Israeli academy. Palestine Monitor. http://www.palestinemonitor.org/new_web/boycotting_israeli_academy.htm. Yiftachel, O., & Ghanem, A. (2004). Understanding ‘ethnocratic’ regimes: The politics of seizing contested territories. Political Geography, 23(6), 647–676.
Academic boycotts, activism and the academy David Storey* Department of Applied Sciences, Geography and Archaeology, University College Worcester, Henwick Grove, Worcester WR2 6AJ, United Kingdom Received 23 March 2005
Abstract Recent media controversy surrounding the acceptance and publication of an article from Israeli-based academics in Political Geography raises serious questions concerning academic boycotts and ideas of academic freedom. This short article provides some brief background at efforts to boycott Israeli academic institutions and outlines some of the issues surrounding the appropriateness of such boycotts in general and of Israel in particular. More specifically it examines the issues of academic freedom, and the equity, effectiveness and flexibility of academic boycotts. Ó 2005 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved. Keywords: Academic boycotts; Academia; Israel; Activism
The recent submission and subsequent publication of an article by two Israelibased geographers brought this journal into debates over a boycott of Israeli academic institutions. Issues associated with the submission of the article generated media coverage which was not always accurate (see for example Beckett, 2002). When the journal article by Yiftachel and Ghanem (2004) ultimately appeared, it was preceded by ‘twin’ editorials from the co-editors John O’Loughlin and David Slater. It appears that Slater had initially declined to accept the article due to his support for a boycott of Israeli institutions initiated by the British-based academics Steven and * Corresponding author. Tel.: C44 1905 855189; fax: C44 1905 855132. E-mail address: [email protected] 0962-6298/$ - see front matter Ó 2005 Elsevier Ltd. All rights reserved. doi:10.1016/j.polgeo.2005.06.007
D. Storey / Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997
993
Hilary Rose. Slater appears to have subsequently modified his stance and in his editorial he draws a distinction between Israeli institutions and individual academics. O’Loughlin states that the media coverage resulted in the drafting of an editorial policy statement endorsed by the majority of the editorial board (two people abstained) and confirming that it is not journal policy to refuse manuscripts from Israel. O’Loughlin has invited responses to this and this current piece reflects upon the issues associated with academic boycotts in general and of Israel in particular.
Academic boycott of Israel The call for an academic boycott of Israel was originally initiated in 2002 by Steven Rose (Professor of Biology at the Open University) and Hilary Rose (Professor of Social Policy at Bradford University) and disseminated through organisations such as Academics for Justice (http://academicsforjustice.org/) and the British Committee for Universities of Palestine (http://www.bricup.org.uk/). It calls for the exclusion of Israel from the European Research Area and for individual academics to break their research links with Israel through such actions as refusal to referee papers or grant applications emanating from Israeli academic institutions and refusal to attend conferences in Israel. The UK trade union National Association of Teachers in Further and Higher Education (NATFHE) has endorsed a resolution calling for the severing of academic links with Israel (http:// www.natfhe.org.uk/down/pal10.doc) while the Association of University Teachers (AUT) has called for a moratorium on European funding of Israeli research (http:// www.aut.org.uk/index.cfm?articleidZ122). In April 2005 the AUT voted to boycott two Israeli Universities, a decision which was subsequently overturned. Similar initiatives have arisen in other countries. These calls have been echoed by requests from Palestinian academic, professional and trade union organizations, under the Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel (PACBI), ‘‘to comprehensively and consistently boycott all Israeli academic and cultural institutions’’ (http://www.bricup.org.uk/) and similar calls from individual Palestinian academics (Taraki, 2004). Not surprisingly, these developments have generated considerable discussion about the appropriateness of academic boycotts in general as well as the efficacy of a specific boycott of Israel. As with the Yiftachel and Ghanem case, some incidents have generated heated debate. An example is that of Mona Baker, professor of translation studies at UMIST in the UK who sacked two members of the editorial boards of journals she partially owns and runs on the grounds that they were affiliated to Israeli academic institutions (Elbendary, 2003). This particular episode prompted UK Prime Minister Tony Blair to repudiate what he felt (incorrectly) to be discrimination on the basis of nationality (Elliott & Milner, 2002). Curiously, Blair’s distaste for a boycott in this instance is rather different to his stance on the England cricket team playing Zimbabwe! (Khan, 2003). The boycott has also prompted counter measures such as the emergence of Academics Against Boycott (http://www.aaisc.net/) and the circulation of counter-petitions (http://www.professors.org.il/petition/). There appear
994
D. Storey / Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997
to be a range of reasons employed by those opposing a boycott. Some object to academic boycotts as a matter of principle citing academic freedom, others argue in favour of the benefits of academic contact, while others appear critical of what they see as overly simplistic responses to a complex political situation. Amongst those critical of a boycott are some who suggest such actions constitute anti-Semitism (see for example Alexander, 2003; Gerstenfeld, 2003a, 2003b). In considering an academic boycott, there appear to be a number of issues that need to be teased out. Keys amongst these are issues of academic freedom, equity, effectiveness and flexibility.
Academic freedom While the arguments surrounding academic freedom sound intuitively appealing, the extent to which it can really be seen as an absolute principle that is always and everywhere sacrosanct is open to question. In his editorial, O’Loughlin (2004) upholds the tradition of academic freedom and invokes the International Council of Scientific Unions as justification for not boycotting academics or academic institutions. He suggests that while editors may be unhappy with aspects of the methodology and arguments presented by authors in articles submitted to journals, readers must be assured that ‘‘none was treated in an unfair manner, either favourably or unfavourably. As long as I am editor, this shall be the case’’ (O’Loughlin, 2004: 643). While this is in many respects laudable, and one suspects most academics are keen to invoke academic freedom when it suits, it also needs to be borne in mind that upholding the academic freedom of some, may indirectly at least limit the academic freedom of others. Like any other right or principle, that of academic freedom is likely to clash with other rights. Upholding the freedom of Israeli academics needs to be set alongside the freedom of academics in Palestine. Upholding the principle for some may have a negative impact on others. It might be argued that continuing to treat Israel as a ‘normal’ state implicitly legitimises Israeli state actions including its treatment of Palestinians. Steven and Hilary Rose (http://www.boycottisrael.org/ articles_rosesboycott150july02.htm) and Slater (2004) point to what they see as violations of Palestinian academic freedom. As Slater suggests in his editorial (p. 646) there is a need to ‘‘challenge the continuing transgression of academic freedom by states that fail to comply with international law’’. In other words it might be argued that a limited restriction on Israeli academics could effect positive changes for those in Palestinian academic institutions, not to mention a much larger number of nonacademic Palestinians. Many will argue that the nature of academia means that maintaining contacts is vitally important and may, in fact, contribute to greater understanding of the complexities of the IsraeliePalestinian situation, possibly contributing to positive change. It is almost certainly the case that our knowledge of the IsraeliePalestinian conflict is enhanced through maintaining such contacts. However, whether this has really contributed to positive change is another matter. Knowledge in and off itself does not give rise to change. Assuming that contact will bring about positive change
D. Storey / Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997
995
might be seen as something of an act of faith, similar in its own way to the assumption that a boycott can effect change. Neither boycotts nor continuing to maintain ‘normal’ contact are politically neutral. They both involve in making political judgements, the consequences of which may be difficult to determine. More broadly, however, it might be argued that the defence of academic freedom is built on dubious assumptions. The academy is far from a politically neutral arena and the supposedly free space of academia is continually eroded in a variety of ways due to commercial and political imperatives (Klein, 2001; Monbiot, 2000). In Geography, as for many other disciplines, there is a long history of co-operation with political projects, whether that be imperialism or with attempts to envision an alternative society. The idea that the academy exists in a strata separate from the messy reality of the ‘real world’ is impossible to sustain. The question therefore is not one of separating politics from academia but one of arguing for a particular type of academic politics e one that broadly accepts the status quo (subject perhaps to some minor tinkering) or one that rejects it and seeks to change things through more radical action. This also links into broader debates over activism and the academy, and the actual role played by academics. (Fuller & Kitchin, 2004; Kitchin & Hubbard, 1999).
Equity It could reasonably be asked why Israel should be selected as the target of a boycott rather than other regimes guilty of what many might see as human rights abuses. Certainly Russian policy, particularly in Chechnya, or recent events in Zimbabwe, might give cause to consider a boycott of institutions in those countries. More significantly perhaps, there is surely ample reason to boycott the US or UK academically and otherwise given the invasion and occupation of Afghanistan and Iraq, a point alluded to by Oren Yiftachel in a recent interview (Leibovich-Dar, 2005). Indeed the Pakistani politician and former cricketer Imran Khan (2003) suggested as much in the run-up to war in Iraq. There are a number of issues here, the first of which is a practical one in that there appears to be a sufficient groundswell of support for such actions against a state seen by many to behave in a repressive manner. Additionally, from a European or USA perspective it might be argued there is a particular relevance in that Israel enjoys the benevolent support of the USA and the west generally. Thus, it might be argued there is a particular responsibility on the part of academics in those countries to indicate their disgust, not just with Israel, but also with their own governments’ defence of Israeli actions. While some argue that attempts to boycott Israel are anti-Semitic, it should be pretty obvious that such arguments are pernicious and serve to nullify criticism in a way analogous to the invoking of anti-Americanism in attempts to disarm those critical of US foreign policy. While not denying the disturbing evidence of antiSemitism, it should be clear that criticism of the actions of a state and its government is not the same as racism. If that were the case, US and British anti-war protestors would have to be regarded as ‘self-haters’. Some such as Gerstenfeld (2003a, 2003b) seem to deliberately conflate actions against Israel with actions against Jews.
996
D. Storey / Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997
Effectiveness Clearly, from the point of view of those wishing to effect change in Israel or elsewhere, an academic boycott is in itself not sufficient. The world is not likely to stop turning because academics refuse to attend Israeli conferences. Economic boycotts would appear more effective and the present calls for an academic boycott sit alongside campaigns to discourage the buying of Israeli goods (see http:// www.boycottisraeligoods.org/). These economic tactics also involve universities with divestment campaigns urging institutions not to invest in Israel, in Israeli corporations or in companies which invest in Israel (see http://www.divest-fromisrael-campaign.org/ and http://www.columbiadivest.org/). In this way an academic boycott is but one part in a broader campaign. It can be seen as a logical extension of related policies of isolation designed to hurt the target economically and culturally. Flexibility The current call for a boycott makes exceptions for those recognised as being ‘conscientious Israeli academics’ (http://www.bricup.org.uk/) opposed to Israeli policy. While this might appear appealing to proponents of a boycott, it becomes a highly subjective business which raises questions over who makes these decisions and who decides what is being sufficiently critical of Israel? The case of Baker’s dismissal of Israeli-based academics from her editorial boards was seized on in parts of the media because one of them was a critic of Israel. Likewise, the reporting of the Yiftachel-Ghanem controversy in this journal tended to highlight the left-wing and critical credentials of Yiftachel (see for example Lipkin, 2003). Slater’s reported comment that he was not sure how critical Yiftachel had been of Israel (O’Loughlin, 2004) highlights the problem of interpreting a boycott in a flexible manner. All of this suggests that even if boycotts are implemented by groups of academics, grey areas will inevitably remain surrounding the ways in which they may be implemented. Summary The issue of academic boycotts is far from straightforward. While some would argue that academics singly and collectively (e.g. an editorial board) should remain neutral such a concept in so inherently flawed as to be meaningless. Action and inaction both has political consequences. Therefore, the decision to be taken is inevitably a political one. If political change is seen as desirable in Israel, then the issue is one of determining whether a boycott or continuing engagement is the best way of bringing this about. It could be argued that a policy of engagement with Israeli academic institutions has done little to effect positive change. It might be argued that this is a matter for each individual academic but, while this is clearly true at some level, political action best takes place within a framework which enhances its prospects of success. Just as trade union membership serves to
D. Storey / Political Geography 24 (2005) 992e997
997
strengthen individual responses through collective action, so a co-ordinated boycott is much more powerful than a series of un-co-ordinated individual responses. While O’Loughlin (2004) argues that a journal editor must set aside her or his own political views, it might be argued that an editor, together with members of an editorial board, could equally adopt a policy of non-co-operation with Israeli academic institutions. Such a stance is no more political than the journal’s current one. Individual academics can still dissent from this by not co-operating with a boycott and by forging their own links. Ultimately, this is a question of trade-offs, rather than the preservation of immutable principles. It is about what individual geographers and other academics feel best accords with their own political views and what actions might then be most in keeping with those views. Maintaining contact and severing contact are both political decisions, the only difference being that one is seen as ‘normal’ and, hence, less controversial than the other. Whatever the view one adopts, it is simply not tenable to see academia as existing above such messy political choices.
References Alexander, E. (January 7th 2003). Boycotting Israel: Back to 1933? The Jerusalem Post. www. frontpagemag.com/Articles/Printable.asp?IDZ5387. Beckett, A. (December 12th 2002). It’s water on stone e in the end the stone wears out. Guardian. http:// www.guardian.co.uk/print/0,3858,4565796-103680,00.html. Elbendary, A. (January 27th 2003). Descending the ivory tower. Al-Ahram Weekly. Available at: http:// www.monabaker.com/pMachine/more.php?idZ78_0_1_12_M5. Elliott, F., & Milner, C. (November 17th 2002). Blair vows to end dons’ boycott of Israeli scholars. Daily Telegraph. http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xmlZ/news/2002/11/17/nisr17.xml. Fuller, D., & Kitchin, R. (Eds.). (2004). Radical theory/critical praxis: Making a difference beyond the academy? Praxis (e)Press. Available at: http://www.praxis-epress.org/availablebooks/radicaltheorycriticalpraxis.html. Gerstenfeld, M. (2003a). The academic boycott against Israel. Jewish Political Studies Review, 15(3/4). http://www.jcpa.org/phas/phas-gersten-fo3.htm. Gerstenfeld (2003b). The academic boycott against Israel and how to fight it. Post Holocaust and AntiSemitism, 12. http://www.jcpa.org/phas/phas-12.htm. Khan, I. (January 24th 2003). Who’s the real villain? Guardian. http://www.guardian.co.uk/zimbabwe/ article/0,2763,881329,00.html. Kitchin, R., & Hubbard, P. (1999). Editorial: Research, action and ‘critical’ geographies. Area, 31(3), 195–198. Klein, N. (2001). No logo. London: Flamingo. Leibovich-Dar, S. (2005). Scholars under siege. http://www.haaretzdaily.com/hasen/pages/ShArt.jhtml? itemNoZ363485. Lipkin, B. (2003). Assisted suicide, Israeli academic style. http://www.think-israel.org/yiftachel.html. Monbiot, G. (2000). Captive state. The corporate takeover of Britain. London: Macmillan. O’Loughlin, J. (2004). Academic openness, boycotts and journal policy. Political Geography, 23(6), 641–643. Slater, D. (2004). Editorial comment: Academic politics and Israel/Palestine. Political Geography, 23(6), 645–646. Taraki (August 22nd 2004). Boycotting the Israeli academy. Palestine Monitor. http://www.palestinemonitor.org/new_web/boycotting_israeli_academy.htm. Yiftachel, O., & Ghanem, A. (2004). Understanding ‘ethnocratic’ regimes: The politics of seizing contested territories. Political Geography, 23(6), 647–676.