Author: Martin Kramer

Moving Over at the Middle East Quarterly

On By Martin Kramer

At the end of June, I will no longer edit the Middle East Quarterly. My departure is my decision, and the date on which I began the job tells it all: September 1, 2001. I came to the task just before 9/11, in very different circumstances. Today the Middle East is central to U.S. policy and world politics in ways I couldn’t have imagined when I became editor.

In the Middle East Quarterly, I worked with many authors to give our readers the most accurate assessments of tumultuous changes. While I have had plenty to say myself, I’d like to say still more, and there’s no getting around it: more writing demands more time. A journal also benefits when new eyes look in new directions. Daniel Pipes, publisher of the Quarterly, has announced the search for my replacement.

The need for the Middle East Quarterly is greater than ever. The journal was founded by Pipes to promote diversity of views. His objective, as he told me when I took over, was to publish outstanding pieces that might not be published elsewhere because they cut against the grain of conventional thinking in Middle East studies. The Quarterly has indeed become the foremost alternative voice for specialist information on Middle Eastern affairs. I’ve needed that platform—I wrote for the Quarterly before I became its editor, and again while I was editor—and so have hundreds of expert writers on the Middle East who have something different to say. So it is vital that the journal continue its mission, and I’m delighted it will.

Pipes set a high standard in eight years of editorial work prior to my coming on board. Having edited the journal myself, I stand in awe at the achievement of his doing this work for that long. I tried mightily to maintain the standard, and I like to think that during my stewardship of the journal, I didn’t fall too far short. If I didn’t, I owe it to two people.

First, Pipes himself. Although I’ve known Daniel for almost thirty years, I didn’t know this one thing about him: he is gifted with editorial judgment. He and I have long had lively debates over politics and people. But I can’t think of one instance since I became editor that I didn’t eventually agree with his fine editorial discretion. Even when I thought I had achieved a pinnacle of perfection in tweaking (or, sometimes, truth be admitted, rewriting) a piece, he would make it a little bit better. He did not impose his own views but sharpened the author’s own ideas. Editorial acumen of this caliber combines arts and skills that have to be learned and acquired. I was editor, he was publisher and book review editor, but we really worked as a team.

Second, Judy Goodrobb, managing editor. Each issue of the Quarterly involves back-and-forth with at least six authors, maybe ten book reviewers, finalizing 43,000 words of text, laying out 98 pages with illustrations, and getting it all off to the printer in a timely way. We called it the “miracle on Walnut Street,” and Judy Goodrobb is the miracle-worker. Her skills saved me from countless errors, and since I tend to miss deadlines, she gracefully and quickly made up the lost time. The amazing thing is that during these three years, we never spent more than a few hours in the same room together. We did it all by Internet. If I have any regret, it’s that I can’t take her with me to my next projects.

As for our content, there is a lot in which to take collective pride. The Quarterly has run outstanding pieces again and again, on militant Islam, terrorism, Iraq, Palestinians and Israelis—the entire gamut of difficult issues that face the United States. Looking back, I derived my greatest satisfaction from editing the work of young and hitherto unpublished authors. In these instances, I tried not just to edit but to educate. No author ever forgets a first publication, and I hope I’ve left a lasting and positive mark on these younger scholars, whose importance I expect will grow with time.

I’m pleased to report that I’ll remain on the Quarterly team. Daniel Pipes has invited me to join Patrick Clawson as a senior editor. That’s no sinecure: I’ll continue to be involved in the assessment of manuscripts and to beat the bushes for the finest submissions. And my byline will also appear in the journal from time to time. After all, I’ve got to earn my gratis subscription.

Title VI: A Majority for Defunding

On By Martin Kramer

Above are the results of the month-long Title VI poll, conducted at this website and at Campus-Watch.org. And here are the usual caveats: it’s not scientific, it’s only the opinions of people who visit these websites, people might have voted twice (though they couldn’t from the same IP address), etc. Now, having said all that, let’s jump to some conclusions.

A decisive majority of those polled favor defunding Title VI altogether. It’s a surprising result, since I’ve never advocated defunding on this website. My preferred option has been reform through the provisions of H.R. 3077. Apparently there are a lot of people who think that reform of Title VI is a waste of time, and that the program itself is a waste of money.

My message to the academics who have agitated against H.R. 3077 is simple: this majority is waiting for you around the corner. So far, no one has tried to mobilize them in a campaign for defunding. But if the reform bill gets mauled in Congress, someone will tap into this reservoir of discontent and distrust to deprive Title VI of funding, probably by proposing an alternative. It’s an entrepreneurial country, and if someone comes to Congress with a better idea, it’ll get a hearing.

The demand for an alternative will only deepen if things get worse in Iraq—that is, if it really does become a “quagmire.” The public hasn’t yet fixed blame for the on-the-ground problems that have beset the United States. But some of it could easily settle upon the academy, for failing to prepare this country for its mission despite almost fifty years of federal subsidies for area studies. That would make Title VI a tempting target for retribution. Lots of people in the academy have rushed to compare Iraq to Vietnam. Whatever you think of the comparison, remember this outcome of the Vietnam war: Richard Nixon zero-budgeted Title VI. In his 1970 budget message, Nixon called the program “outmoded.” It was saved by Congress, but its budget was halved.

Paradoxically, a campaign to cut Title VI funding would meet less resistance than the present campaign on behalf of H.R. 3077. The academics have framed their agitation against the bill opportunistically, as a defense of academic freedom against the alleged horrors of an advisory board. This has gotten them the support of a whole range of off-campus activists who just love to pose as champions of free speech. After all, that’s how the ACLU justifies its existence and raises its own funds. But you can be sure that these same activists wouldn’t lift a finger to defend academe’s subsidies against appropriations cuts, if there were no matter of supposed principle at stake. After all, Harvard and Princeton aren’t starving. Title VI now supports seventeen federally-funded Middle East centers, more than at any time in history. If Congress decided to cut that number to twelve or ten, would the ACLU send an impassioned letter to the Hill (as it did against H.R. 3077)? The answer is a pretty obvious “no.”

But surely, you say, Congress wouldn’t cut budgets for international studies at a time of growing American need. I don’t think Congress would completely defund Title VI, but that’s where alternatives come into play. Take the National Security Education Program (NSEP), which was established following the Kuwait war. It gives scholarships to students in return for a commitment to government service. It’s now running a pilot of the National Flagship Language Initiative, a new approach to producing graduates with advanced levels of language proficiency. Until now, the NSEP has operated out of a trust fund created by a one-time appropriation in 1991. But the fund is depleted, and the NSEP will have to go to annual appropriations if it’s going to survive. The figure that’s out there is $20 million a year. That could easily be shaved off the $90 million that now go to Title VI; such a cut would only set Title VI back to where it was before 9/11.

I could go on and on with other alternatives, but you get the idea. Title VI is vulnerable. Paradoxically, an advisory board appointed by Congress could provide the program with a built-in tripwire against defunding initiatives, and lock Congress into the reform approach. But many academics, especially the more radical ones, either can’t see it, or think they can kill the board but keep the money. To judge from our straw poll, that’s a very risky assumption. Were H.R. 3077 to be defeated or gutted, it’s easy to imagine Title VI with no board, less money, and an uncertain future. And if Iraq turns out badly, it’s easy to imagine a Congress angry enough to create alternatives at the expense of Title VI, so that America will be ready next time.

Boycotting Israel at NYU?

On By Martin Kramer

The habitual academic petition-signers against Israel are out in force, in a letter to Hebrew University president Menachem Magidor. They charge that Israel “makes it difficult or impossible for Palestinian teachers and students to reach their universities,” and that Israeli troops are responsible for “harassment, arrests, random shootings and assaults” on Palestinian campuses. The occupation itself, they write, “disrupts the necessary framework for any successful educational structure.” The signatories of the letter call themselves “defenders of Palestinian academic freedom and supporters of the academic boycott against Israel.” And they ask “the Israeli academic leadership where it stands on the issue of current Israeli policy, and to share with us what Israeli academic institutions are doing to challenge the behavior of your government.” (For more, see this article in the Chronicle of Higher Education.)

Now I don’t speak for anyone else, but I know where I would lay the blame for the plight of Palestinian academic institutions. (By the way, there wasn’t even one such institution in the West Bank and Gaza in 1967, and every one of them was established under the Israeli occupation.) I would lay the blame on the Palestinian Authority for choosing war, and on the violent militias that use campuses as recruitment stations for terrorists.

Nevertheless, Israeli academics have never boycotted Palestinian professors, even in the worst days of terror. To the contrary: if you’re organizing a conference in Israel, it’s almost obligatory to have a Palestinian professor on the podium. Free exchange is what academic freedom means, and Israeli universities have done an admirable job of upholding it in trying times. In contrast, the academic boycott against Israel is itself a gross violation of academic freedom, because it explicitly imposes a political litmus test on Israeli scholars. It’s radical-style McCarthyism.

Among the American signatories, there are a handful of Middle East academics. Only one stands out: Professor Zachary Lockman, who identifies himself as director of the Hagop Kevorkian Center for Near Eastern Studies at New York University. He stands out because he’s the only signatory with any academic clout. In fact, not only did he become director of NYU’s Middle East center last fall. His center simultaneously became a self-standing Title VI National Resource Center for the Middle East. Its activities enjoy a federal subsidy of around $400,000 a year.

Now that Lockman has announced himself as a “supporter of the academic boycott against Israel,” the question for New York University and the U.S. Department of Education is a simple one. Is it Lockman’s intention to implement the boycott that he supports, in the National Resource Center that he administers? If the answer is yes, then New York University’s provost should insist he step down. It’s unthinkable that a comprehensive center for Middle Eastern studies would boycott Israeli academics. (Tell the provost yourself if you agree.) And it’s unthinkable that the U.S. government would subsidize such a center. If Lockman is going to walk the boycott walk at the Kevorkian Center, its federal subsidy should be revoked immediately.

Now it may be that Lockman supports the boycott only in principle, and has no intention of acting on his principle. But having signed the petition as the director of the Kevorkian Center, and not simply as an NYU professor (which would have sufficed for identification purposes), he has to clarify that point. Specifically, he must reassure New York University and the U.S. Department of Education that no boycott, in any form whatsoever, open or tacit, will be implemented at the Kevorkian Center. Anything less than an explicit reassurance will leave a cloud of suspicion hanging over the place.

When I was a center director, in the 1990s, I was careful to stay clear of political controversy, so as not to drag my colleagues down my own alley. Professor Lockman seems to feel no comparable obligation. His colleagues might ask themselves whether they can afford this sort of academic “leadership.” They should affirm that Lockman doesn’t speak for them or the Kevorkian Center, whose name he has deliberately put on a political statement. If they feel otherwise, they should announce that as well. (Professor Timothy Mitchell, previous director, also signed the boycott letter.) So Lockman wants to know where every academic in Israel stands? Let’s first find out where every member and affiliate of the Kevorkian Center stands.

Update: I’m pleased to report that Professor Lockman has clarified his position to the provost of NYU, repudiating the boycott. “Neither I nor NYU’s Hagop Kevorkian Center for Near Eastern Studies, which I direct, advocate or implement such a boycott,” Lockman writes in a letter dated April 2. And he adds:

I signed the letter as a supporter of academic freedom for Palestinian scholars and academic institutions, not as a supporter of a boycott against Israel. However, the wording of the letter was such that it could have led people to construe my support for the defense of the academic freedom of Palestinians as an endorsement of a boycott of Israeli scholars and academic institutions, which is not the case. In reality, neither the Kevorkian Center, nor I as an individual, advocates or practices a boycott of Israeli scholars or academic institutions. In fact, the Center regularly hosts visiting scholars and professors from Israel and maintains ongoing relations with Israeli academic institutions, and issues related to Israel are part of the Center’s program.

NYU provost David McLaughlin has accepted Lockman’s assurances. The boycott letter that Lockman signed, McLaughlin adds, “was poorly constructed, its wording inadequately precise, and so his signing of it unclear as to his intentions.” Actually, I thought it was pretty straightforward. And as Lockman says he signed the letter via the Internet, I wonder how he failed to notice that the web address of the letter is www.academicboycott.org, and the title of the webpage is “Boycott Israeli Academic and Research Institutions: Open Letter.” That’s not exactly subtle. Even so, I will not dispute the assurances he’s now given.

The main thing, however, is that the provost has added his own assurances:

The University’s position on calls for a boycott is clear. It stands firm against any such boycott, which by its very nature runs counter to the essence of the University, and to the values to which New York University in particular is committed. Our view is that the University is a space that encourages open, free and continuous dialogue free from fear of recrimination.

That’s an important statement by the university’s leading academic official, it binds the entire university, and I’m delighted to have elicited it.

If there is a lesson here, it is that academics, who make their livelihood by the crafting of written and spoken words, should be discriminating in what they sign. I’ll continue to keep a sharp eye on the doings of the Kevorkian Center and its director. But from my point of view, Lockman has done the right thing. I hope the other signatories will follow suit.

Further update: Lockman obfuscates: Professor Lockman now writes a letter to the New York Sun, which ran the above Sandstorm entry on April 1. He reaffirms that he does not support a boycott of Israeli academics (NYU’s provost, in a letter to the newspaper, says the same), but Lockman then makes this claim:

The open letter never calls for or endorses a boycott. To label me as a supporter of a boycott of Israeli scholars and academic institutions, Mr. Kramer therefore has to seize on a single phrase in the letter—”we the undersigned, defenders of Palestinian academic freedom and supporters of the academic boycott”—and twist it into the false allegation that I endorse such a boycott. I am in fact a defender of Palestinian academic freedom (and of everyone else’s academic freedom, including Israelis’) but not a supporter of an academic boycott, and I signed this letter based on the understanding that it is possible to be one but not the other.

It certainly is possible to be one but not the other, but that’s not the point of the letter Lockman signed. I remind him again that the website that published the open letter is at www.academicboycott.org, and the webpage is entitled “Boycott Israeli Academic and Research Institutions: Open Letter.” The letter also takes the form of a challenge to Israeli academics who have organized against the boycott, and ends thus: “We are prepared to join you and other parties in public debate of the academic boycott of your institutions at any time and in any neutral venue.” What’s the point of signing such a challenge to opponents of the boycott, if your own position is also opposed to the boycott?

In fact, the drafters and promotors of the open letter are Lawrence Davidson and Mona Baker, the leading advocates of the academic boycott in the United States and the United Kingdom. When the London Guardian ran a story on the open letter on March 25, it had no doubt as to its meaning. Under the headline “Academic boycott of Israel gathers momentum,” its correspondent wrote: “Leading advocates of an academic boycott of Israel have stepped up their campaign calling for an ‘outing’ of Israeli universities which support their government’s policy on the occupied territories.” Professor Lockman’s failure to see the obvious difference between the position he now professes and that of the open letter, even after it has been pointed out to him, leaves his judgment in question.

But beyond the test of common sense, it’s fairly simple to determine whether I am twisting the letter’s intent, or Professor Lockman is twisting it. If Professor Lockman is right, then among his 450 fellow signatories, there must be others who oppose the boycott. I call upon them to come forward. If there aren’t at least a few dozen signatories who read the letter as Professor Lockman did, then it would seem that he’s the one with the problem of reading comprehension—one shared neither by me nor by the hundreds of his co-signatories who understood exactly what they were signing.

Another update: Lockman scolded. The Washington Square News, NYU’s campus newspaper, has run a story and editorial on Lockman’s signing of the boycott-Israel “open letter.” Lockman, in yet another lapse of professorial judgment, dismisses the controversy as “a bunch of crap.” He also admits he has no idea who drafted the letter he signed, or to whom it was intended. It’s pretty damning stuff, and the accompanying editorial scolds him: “It is clear that [Lockman] did not put enough effort into weighing the possible meanings of the letter before attaching his—and NYU’s—name to it. In the future, it would be very wise for NYU professors to seriously consider the ramifications of any academic petition they sign.”