Punished at Princeton
For fighting antisemitism & DEI
IF the words “diversity, equity, and inclusion” mean anything, it’s that hatred is unacceptable no matter what form it takes. Yet the past two months have made clear to me that institutional DEI tolerates — and thereby encourages — the particularly awful hatred of antisemitism. What else could explain what’s happening at Princeton University?
Nothing prepared me for Oct. 7. I stayed up all night watching the horror Hamas terrorists were perpetrating in real time. The next day, my family was in anguish, and my friends were devastated, especially those with loved ones in Israel.
Nothing prepared me for the days and weeks that came after, either. I made the mistake of logging onto X and our Graduate Student Government Slack channel. While I always knew antisemitism found a home in higher education, I still expected my peers to express shock and sympathy — the natural response to obvious evil. Instead, I found an explosion of Jew-hatred, mere days after Israelis were slaughtered, burned, kidnapped and raped.
The comments were as heinous as they were numerous. Some particularly disturbing examples: “They called Nelson Mandela a terrorist too”; “Jews have naturally developed something of a victim complex”; “you know you’re the one . . . committing terrorism, killing innocent people on a daily basis” to a professor and alumnus who served in the Israel Defense Forces; “you’re a racist who would love to see as many Palestinians dead as possible”; “What was your body count today? . . . did you end up orphaning more than twenty children today alone?”; and “Respecting people’s heritage” means “standing in solidarity with the oppressed as they resist the oppressor.” That one came Oct. 7, before Hamas had finished its murder spree.
At first, I felt sick — a combination of shock, anger, grief and disgust rolled into one. After I calmed down, I felt resolved. I compiled a list of the most horrific comments and sent them Oct. 18 to Princeton’s DEI office. I asked it to discipline Princeton students spreading hate. I got a response Nov. 7: It would take no action because the comments “constitute political (and therefore protected) speech.”
I could understand that reasoning, despite the naked hypocrisy of Princeton faculty members having been disciplined for speech before. But what happened next was far more baffling. I asked the DEI office to meet with me — not to discuss my report but rather the problem of antisemitism more broadly. I hoped we could devise a plan to combat this hatred in Princeton’s student body. The DEI office’s response was swift and simple: No because “campus community members are not entitled to personal meetings.”
I kept trying, including by getting more influential members of the Princeton community to reiterate my request. But the DEI office held firm, even as antisemitism became prominent amid campus protests, walkouts and everyday interactions. To this day, the DEI office has not met with me, though I have been punished for pushing back on antisemitism in the Slack channel.
A student obtained a “no communication order” against me. For subsequently “liking” with a greencheck emoji a Slack message a friend wrote replying to that student with some facts, I was put on disciplinary probation Wednesday, “the most serious admonition a student can receive while being permitted to remain at the University.” The Graduate Student Government also temporarily suspended my Slack account for “stigmatization of mental health and religious affiliation,” according to a newly updated code of conduct. I had tried to explain particular drivers of antisemitism by drawing on my own psychological training and discussing religious fundamentalism in general.
DEI ideology has been weaponized against me — and Jews more broadly, as groups like Do No Harm have documented across higher education. I should have known. For all its talk about justice and the importance of oppressed lives, DEI cares about neither — at least, not in a consistent or holistic way. It divides groups of people based on superficial characteristics, then assumes they can do no right or do no wrong depending on their identity and relationship to other groups. Jews, it turns out, are forever damned, deserving no support when victimized. If silence is violence, then silence about antisemitism at Princeton is driving ongoing calls for violence against Jews.
Someone needs to fight this hatred, which threatens more than just Jews. On Dec. 26, Princeton graduate students will elect a new DEI officer who will interact with the university’s DEI office and set the tone for the Graduate Student Government. I’m running for the position. While I have no illusions about fixing the DEI enterprise as such, I believe in applying diversity, equity and inclusion in their distinct and positive forms. In fact, my approach to these concepts will be the same as my approach to medicine, giving every individual the best possible treatment regardless of identity. That means condemning antisemitism while treating everyone equally, based on their innate human dignity and worth.
This unifying vision stands in stark contrast to the divisive DEI that I’ve encountered. I believe that’s what most of my fellow graduate students want — a DEI officer who respects diversity, practices equal treatment and includes the excluded. Surely it’s time to confront hatred instead of condoning it.