Columbia University president Claire Shipman would have us believe she snatched academic freedom from the flames of Trump’s higher education dumpster fire, but this is more of the same gaslighting we’ve endured for almost two years. Beginning with the first university administrator’s response to the first campus protest against the war in Gaza, university administrations everywhere repeatedly decried antisemitism while rarely naming what the students were actually calling for—namely, for the harm to the Palestinian people to stop, not for harm to come to the Jewish people.

The words “Palestine” and “Gaza” almost never appeared in university administrators’ statements. That they also don’t appear in Shipman’s announcement of the agreement Columbia reached with the federal government to settle allegations of antisemitism is one tell that protections for academic freedom were not “carefully crafted” over the course of the negotiations but that they were abandoned instead. (For a thorough analysis of the settlement’s many failures that goes beyond the focus of this article, see “An Agreement That Settles Nothing,” by the Columbia chapter of the American Association of University Professors.)

On CNN, Shipman claimed that the resolution “protects our academic integrity,” calling that a “red line” for Columbia. In her announcement, Shipman offers as evidence of this integrity a sentence in the settlement that reads, “No provision of this agreement, individually or taken together, shall be construed as giving the United States authority to dictate faculty hiring.” She glosses this by adding, “The federal government will not dictate … who teaches.”

When reading the official document, one is startled, then, to find that faculty hiring is dictated by its terms:

The government should not be determining which programs Columbia chooses to invest in. I suspect that the slippage in Shipman’s statement from “faculty hiring” (the government cannot dictate faculty hiring) to “who teaches” (the government cannot dictate who teaches) is purposeful. She can always say that no member of the multiagency Task Force to Combat Anti-Semitism that had her by the throat will be personally reviewing candidate files, so Columbia retains control over the who of who teaches. But this is a distinction without substance when the ideological viewpoint of candidates is guaranteed in advance.

The Institute for Israel and Jewish Studies “is dedicated to the academic study and discussion of Israel and Jewish Studies,” we learn from its webpage. “The Institute for Israel and Jewish Studies supports the State of Israel’s right to exist and to flourish,” its webpage also tells us. Can an academic department be a kind of lobbying organization at the same time? And can an academic department on Israel exclude some of the best thinking on its formation, that of anti-Zionist Jewish scholars? Isn’t this combination of the academic and the ideological a bit like the nonsensical liberal platitude calling Israel a Jewish and democratic state? The conjunction “and” does a heck of a lot of spackling work.

By sharing the hires in the Institute for Israel and Jewish Studies as joint appointments with other departments, the work performed by phrases like “Israel’s right to exist” is amplified. In this way, the settlement seeks to multiply a particular, pro-Israel point of view in the university, potentially helping to shield Israel from criticism at the very moment it most needs to be criticized. This is not institutional neutrality. This is an intentional tilting of an already painfully tilted playing field.

If anyone doubts that this tilt is precisely what the settlement seeks to secure, they need only consult No. 12 in the agreement, which stipulates that “the Senior Vice Provost, acting with the authority of the Office of the Provost, will conduct a thorough review of … the Center for Palestine Studies; the Institute for Israel and Jewish Studies; Middle Eastern, South Asian, and African Studies; the Middle East Institute; the Tel Aviv and Amman global hubs; the School of International and Public Affairs Middle East Policy major; and other University programs focused on the Middle East.”

This person will “make recommendations to the President and Provost, in accordance with academic procedures, about any necessary changes, academic restructuring, or investments.” We already know which program on this list will find its fortunes soon improved. It’s not hard to imagine which ones might find themselves impoverished under the heading “necessary changes” or “academic restructuring.”

Columbia did negotiate something wise. As Shipman wrote, “We have agreed on a robust dispute resolution process that includes a mutually agreed upon independent monitor and arbitrator as neutral third parties, rather than ceding authority to the government or a court.” Without this provision, Columbia would face a future of potentially endless arbitrary civil rights investigations.

As more journalists report on the transformation of the federal civil service from a body of mostly nonpartisan experts into one evaluated on loyalty to the president, and as more stories expose the illegitimate tactics and methodologies used to levy accusations of antisemitism, this caveat providing for a third-party arbiter will be one that every institution will want to negotiate before discussing anything else. Columbia’s saga is, after all, only one of the first of many likely to come—last week, Brown University became the second institution to strike a deal with the Trump administration, and Harvard University is reportedly making progress toward one). After the Columbia settlement was announced, Trump posted on Truth Social, “Numerous other Higher Education Institutions that have hurt so many, and been so unfair and unjust, and have wrongly spent federal money, much of it from our government, are upcoming.”

But this third-party provision holding out the hope that saner heads than those in the federal government will adjudicate going forward—a provision that will have to be negotiated individually by each institution—isn’t good enough, is it? Each institution, in this scenario, stanches its own bleeding, but not one of them directly challenges the federal administration’s use of antisemitism as a weapon of intimidation. It’s a rational calculation for each institution, I suppose, but a disastrous one taken as a whole.

“For months,” Shipman says, “Columbia’s discussions with the federal government have been set up as a test of principle—a binary fight between courage and capitulation. But like most things in life, the reality is far more complex.” No doubt Shipman has in mind the real tragedies that would have resulted from a show of courage that might have cost Columbia its federal funding—critical research halted, jobs lost, students’ lives derailed, perhaps even the end of Columbia’s continued existence. The stakes were very high for Columbia, as they remain very high for all but the most financially insulated universities and colleges.

And I suppose the compromises to academic freedom our institutions make, with no end in sight, in order to keep doors open and funds flowing might be forgivable, were it not for the 60,000 people and counting who are now dead—18,500 of them children. Were it not for the “worst-case scenario of famine” now unfolding. Were it not for the “war crimes in plain sight.”

When the presidents of our universities and colleges compromise our academic freedom, they are doing so by playing along with a narrative of widespread antisemitism that they know is a pretext and a deflection. By going along with this narrative rather than challenging it, they co-create with the federal government a culture of fear that makes us scared to use our voices as professors to name and discuss a genocide. When we hesitate to openly address what is morally undeniable, the world begins to wobble. Yes, the reality is more complex than “a test of principle,” because we do not lose an abstract principle when we lose academic freedom; we slowly but surely lose our ability to tell right from wrong.