Campus Silence About Antisemitism is Loud and Clear

Thinking about the Torah portion Shemini earlier this month, I was struck by a single sentence commenting on Aaron’s behavior after his two sons were killed: “And Aaron remained silent.” This led me to Elie Wiesel’s famous statement: “Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented,” which motivated me to use my voice here, to speak up.

I have a colleague—a fellow professor at CSUN—who routinely shows up at department meetings, candidate interviews for faculty positions, and student award ceremonies wearing a keffiyeh, the garb worn by terrorists who committed the 10/7 atrocities among other acts of destruction in Israel and abroad for decades. Not one person has ever spoken up about this clear support for anti-Jewish intimidation and violence, about the harm she causes Jewish faculty and students when she chooses to wear her keffiyeh in public facing events.

This same colleague was teaching a class on Oct. 7, 2024 while an anti-Jewish demonstration was occurring outside her classroom. This colleague sat quietly when her class began a “free, free Palestine” chant and then encouraged her students to leave class to attend the demonstration. When two Jewish students in her classroom commented on the pain and harm this caused them, my colleague publicly silenced them. Attempting to file a complaint about this incident, these two students were told by the administrator in charge that if they filed their complaint, their names would be made known to their professor. Thus, fear of being identified and targeted inhibited their attempt to speak up for themselves and other Jewish students. Their voices were silenced and no other voices—neither the administration nor other faculty in my department—were used to help.

I have not chosen silence. I have written—as both a faculty member and a representative of CSUN’s Faculty and Staff Resource Group, Matadors Against Antisemitism—approximately 18 email messages to our university president. Over the past two years, I have asked her to comment publicly in support of Jewish students in the face of disheartening news of harassment, intimidation, and attacks on other campuses. I have asked our university administrators to enforce extant Time, Place and Manner policies when protestors have held walkouts and loud, disruptive rallies and events on campus. My requests have gone unanswered by our university president, and she has rarely offered any meaningful statement of support.

More silence.

Last Spring, I published a personal piece in the Jewish Journal about my experiences at our university graduation ceremonies in 2025. Three students deliberately withdrew the hands they extended for me to shake after they saw Stars of David on my regalia. In response to me sharing the article link with my department, there was no public discussion or comment.

More silence.

In January of 2025, I was selected to participate in a year-long academic fellowship with the Academic Engagement Network or AEN. At a 4-day gathering in Florida, I met two dozen other academics across the United States who were in similar predicaments. We were all academic faculty in university settings where silence was our common adversary. We spent four days learning about each other and how best to use our voices in very difficult places. In short, we all learned how NOT to be silent.

My AEN colleagues on campus have written op-ed columns and emails. We have challenged the status quo with the support of the Anti-Defamation League and, at times, challenged the ADL when they have held an overly optimistic view of the environment on the CSUN campus for Jews. We have found our voices in the still, abhorrent silence of the administration and they now know that we will speak up whenever they are silent. We attend faculty senate meetings and challenge the antisemitic screed that masquerades as otherwise progressive tropes. We handed out hamantaschen on Purim on the main quad of campus while administrators avoided us and walked away from our table. We have hosted Jewish and Zionist scholars and activists for campus events, and we have called for increased security on campus when the world has become more difficult to be openly Jewish.

In short, we have NOT been silent.

We have followed more wise words from Elie Wiesel, who swore “never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim.”

But there are reasons people choose silence: It’s an easy way out, and speaking up has a cost. This battle over the past two and a half years has resulted in my opting for an early partial retirement from my academic career. The physiological stress of confronting antisemitism in my academic home and the failure of my department, college, and university to hold anyone accountable is overwhelming.

In an email I wrote to my colleagues this past week, I noted that what we need is more voices and less silence, more action and less complacency. We need more allies to ask tough questions about why antisemitism is allowed to flourish in the silent condoning of administration and we need to speak up when it occurs, specifically with my keffiyeh-wearing colleague. The response I received from this email was angry, dismissive and hurtful. Much like most Jewish faculty members across the country, I too encountered invalidation, denial and indifference from my own colleagues, some of whom I have supported and worked with for more than 25 years.

With a university filled with silence from administrators, as well as anger and indifference to the plight of persecuted Jewish students, we Jewish academics need to shift our focus. We need to find out how much Jewish university donors really know about what life is like on campus for Jewish students, staff, and faculty. And we need alumni allies to speak truth to those in power in university administrations.

Listen and speak up about what you are hearing. As your children and grandchildren return home from college this summer, please listen to what they have to say about campus life as Jewish students. Know that you may be one of their strongest allies. As such, you don’t have the luxury to be silent. If you are a college alum, speak out. When I was called on Giving Tuesday this past fall from my alma mater, I told the eager student that I would not be donating to Cornell this year until they took a more assertive stance on protecting Jewish students on campus. Instead, I made a donation to Cornell Hillel. And I asked the student caller to let her supervisors know of my choice.

Make sure that college administrators know that you are an advocate for Jewish life on campus. Speak up. Silence—in a time of record antisemitism on college campus across the planet—is not a viable choice. If universities are to be truly safe and inclusive places for learning, they need to be safe and inclusive for Jewish students, staff, and faculty as well.

Gary S. Katz is Associate Professor of Psychology at California State University, Northridge; a proud member of Matadors Against Antisemitism (MAA); and the incoming International First Vice President of the Federation of Jewish Men’s Clubs.