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Saturday, March 29, 2025

Columbia University Once a Bellwether of Protest



 March 28, 2025
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Photo by Chenyu Guan

When I interviewed a Columbia University student about campus protests (“A Conversation With a Columbia University Undergraduate,”) CounterPunch, September 6, 2024), I had no idea that this citadel of higher education would turn into a subservient gofer for Donald Trump and his dictatorial administration. At stake was $400 million in federal funds to Columbia, but the story of Columbia kowtowing to power has a much longer history, decades longer, than the current debasement by Trump and rightwing political and economic forces.

Critics may complain about the economic piece of this two-part equation, but the reality on the ground is that Columbia is sensitive to its donor base and some of its donor base demands strict adherence to Zionism and a narrow definition of antisemitism. Criticism of Zionism in no way implies antisemitism for the majority of critics, especially Jewish critics like myself.

Columbia University agreed on Friday to overhaul its protest policies, security practices and Middle Eastern studies department in a remarkable concession to the Trump administration, which has refused to consider restoring $400 million in federal funds without major changes. (“Columbia Agrees to Trump’s Demands After Federal Funds are Stripped” New York Times, March 21, 2025).

Columbia University was and is repressive in its relationship with students both in the past and now, and recently with its relationship to both students and their faculty supporters during protests against the Israel-Gaza war (“Police Clear Building at Columbia and Arrest Dozens of Protestors” New York Times, April 30, 2024). During the antiwar movement of the late 1960s and early 1970s, students did not want guns brought onto the Columbia University campus and stored in an existing gym as part of its ROTC program.

Columbia’s students’ opposition to Columbia’s expansion on its property in Morningside Heights brought police onto the campus (“’Gym Crow’: Looking back on the 1968 Morningside Gym protests” Columbia Spectator, February 15, 2022). Columbia’s gentrification of Morningside Heights involved the removal, through campus expansion, of Black community members and others.

Columbia brought in over 1,000 police from the New York Police Department. While the 86 students in Hamilton Hall surrendered immediately to the police, protests associated with the Students for a Democratic Society, a mostly white organization, ended violently, with 700 students arrested and over 100 injured. The spring 1968 semester ended early due to the chaos. (Columbia Spectator, February 15, 2022).

The police presence at Columbia in the late 1960s, at the height of the Vietnam War, was repeated once again during protests against the Israel-Gaza war, this time by a militarized police force from the New York Police Department. The current repression of dissent seen at Columbia is reminiscent of the official crackdown by governments of now-defunct countries in Eastern Europe, China, and the similar crushing of dissent in places such as France in 1968. Repression of dissent is not new.

In 1971, my friend Ron and I rode the subway to the West Side of New York City and got off at Columbia University. Ron was a graduate student at New York University and I had also been a graduate student there. Ron had been accepted into a Ph.D. program at Columbia, and it was exciting to walk on the expansive campus near the classic Low Library and around the campus where some of the antiwar protests had taken place just three years earlier.

I returned to Columbia in 2010 to attend a business school graduation and Columbia seemed a staid place compared to 1971. The keynote speaker told of how as a CEO he had shed jobs to keep his company afloat in the US and seemed proud of his accomplishments.

After I interviewed the Columbia undergraduate mentioned above, I could not walk onto the campus at Columbia, as it was occupied by police following the protests against the Israel-Gaza war. One entrance from Broadway on the upper West Side was patrolled by NYPD police and Columbia security guards were everywhere with no easy access to the campus. These “snapshots” of Columbia University over time tell much about how freedom of movement and speech and protest have been harmed in the US and in New York City in particular over time.

The US has attempted to criminalize speech at Columbia University in the case of Mahmoud Khalil (“Columbia Activist in Detention Was Public Face of Protest Against Israel” (New York Times, March 10, 2025). Yunseo Chung, a Columbia University student, who is being actively hunted by ICE, is suing the government to prevent her deportation for taking part in pro-Palestinian demonstrations. Chung is a legal permanent resident who has lived in the US since she was 7 (“Columbia Student Hunted by ICE Sues to Prevent Deportation” New York Times, March 24, 2025).

Howard Lisnoff is a freelance writer. He is the author of Against the Wall: Memoir of a Vietnam-Era War Resister (2017).



Columbia University’s Profile in Cowardice Is Nothing New

March 26, 2025


Erick Berlanga / Columbia Daily Spectator

A crucial requirement for a dictatorship to take hold is widespread acquiescence. That is being put to test as the United States slides toward right-wing dictatorship with a real possibility of going beyond ordinary dictatorship to outright fascism. With grassroots activists still gaining their bearings after two months of relentless, unprecedented attacks by the Trump régime and Democratic Party leaders not only unable to mount a coherent opposition but, with Chuck Schumer’s capitulation, handing Donald Trump and Elon Musk a blank check, all the more important is that large institutions with the ability to fight back do so.

Yes, bringing a halt to the Trump régime’s plans and ultimately reversing the slide into right-wing despotism is the work of working people on the ground, organizing across lines and linking the many movements and causes into a mass movement of movements. Social movements are what bring about positive change. That has always been so. But it would be helpful if institutions that can resist would stop capitulating. Once one institution capitulates, bullies with a goal of fascism, now emboldened, will go after others. One example is the giant Paul Weiss law firm, one of the country’s largest, a $2 billion operation with lawyers who surely could make winning constitutional arguments while there are still courts to hear cases. But, no, a huge institution that would have the law on its side has chosen craven surrender, going so far as to donate $40 million of pro bono work to the Trump régime. But the example I’d like to discuss is Columbia University.

Paul Weiss is a business concern, one intimately connected to corporate boardrooms across the United States and in other countries. Perhaps it is to be expected that a business that needs connections would choose to humiliate itself as the price to keep business moving. Columbia University, on the other hand, is theoretically something different. But only “theoretically” — in reality, Columbia is a big business, too, which does much to explain its cowardice. Explain, but of course in no way excuse.

Columbia handing control of its Middle Eastern, South Asian and African Studies Department to an overseer under demand by the U.S. government is beyond disgraceful, a self-humiliation. The so-called senior provost installed as an overseer is in reality intended to be a censor. How will the content of courses be changed? What courses will be eliminated? Will whitewashing of Israeli atrocities now be packaged as neutral scholarship?

This is the act of a business seeking to curry favor with powerful officials. Acts that have a long history at Columbia. For Columbia has long been a big business with an accompanying toadying to power.

For example, during the 1920s, Columbia University “was concerned with repelling the ‘invasion of the Jewish student,’ and whatever devices were used, they obviously had the desired effect,” according to the book The High Status Track. The proportion of Jewish students at the university declined from 40 percent to 20 percent.
Protesting Nazi Germany got you banished from Columbia

A true profile in cowardice is Nicholas Murray Butler, who spent 43 years as president of Columbia University. His silence during the Nazi atrocities against Jews in Germany under the Nazi régime — and his de facto approval of fascist anti-Semitism — speaks volumes. Butler was silent when, in May 1933, the Nazis “burned tens of thousands books at universities across Germany”; among those whose books were burned was Franz Boas, a Columbia anthropologist known for his sharp criticisms of the Nazi government.

A December 2021 report by Matthew Wills, published on the JSTOR Daily newsletter, notes that “When the Nazis expelled Jewish faculty members and students from universities, Butler stayed silent, continued sending Columbia students to Germany and welcomed Nazi-approved students in exchange.” But Butler went beyond mere silence. “Butler’s actions spoke volumes when he welcomed the Nazi ambassador the United States to Columbia, months after the book-burnings; when he refused to appear with a notable German dissident when the latter spoke at the university; and when he repeatedly violated a boycott of German shipping,” Mr. Wills wrote.

And, in moves that echo Columbia’s harsh crackdowns on students, Jewish students included, who oppose the Israeli genocide in Gaza, it was those who opposed Nazi Germany who were punished in the 1930s. Mr. Wills wrote, “[S]tudents on campus who protested Nazi barbarism were met with a heavy hand. Faculty members who recognized the necessity of public protest against Nazis were punished as well—Butler ended the careers of two of them. Columbia’s student newspaper noted that the school’s reputation suffered because of ‘the remarkable silence of its president’ about the ‘Hitler government.’ ”

Butler was a long-time admirer of Benito Mussolini, the originator of fascism. The Columbia president’s attitude toward democratic institutions was made clear when he declared that “totalitarian systems” produced “men of far greater intelligence, far stronger character and far more courage than the system of elections.”

Butler’s welcoming of that Nazi ambassador to the United States, Hans Luther, came only seven months after the Nazi book burning that destroyed tens of thousands of works they deemed “un-German.” That welcome came also after Columbia’s Jewish Students Society “collected over 500 signatures on a petition denouncing these outrages [the book burnings],” wrote historian Stephen H. Norwood in a 31-page article published in the Oxford University journal Modern Judaism. Moreover, “Columbia’s advisors to Protestant and Catholic students both signed the petition, which demanded ‘concerted action,’ against Nazi antisemitism.” In response to criticism, Butler replied that he held Luther in “high esteem,” declaring him “intelligent, honest, and well-mannered.”

Dr. Norwood noted in his article that Butler refused to make an appearance at a rally featuring an escapee from a Nazi concentration camp, former Social Democratic parliamentary delegate Gerhart Seger, who was on a tour publicizing the barbarity of the Nazi régime. As to Mussolini, Dr. Norwood wrote that Butler, a “longtime admirer of Benito Mussolini,” sought to deepen ties between Columbia and Fascist Italy. “He aggressively defended the university’s Casa Italiana, which housed the Italian department, when charges by liberals and anti-Mussolini Italian exiles that it constituted a principal center for the dissemination of Fascist propaganda in the United States received national attention in late 1934 and 1935.”

Butler’s anti-Semitism was nothing new; during the 1910s he introduced methods to “to screen out academically qualified Jewish students.” Nor was Butler less reactionary in other matters, according to Dr. Norwood. “President Butler’s distaste for campus anti-Nazi protestors, and the extremely harsh punishment he inflicted on some of them, was reinforced by his disdain for the labor movement, which conservatives associated with picketing and public protest. Sociologist E. Digby Baltzell stated that Nicholas Murray Butler ‘loved the rich with a passion.’ ” Nor was Butler alone — a Columbia dean, Thomas Alexander, was a defender of Hitler, declared “unqualified approval” of the Nazi sterilization program and tried to publish a translation of Hitler’s speeches.

Nor was Butler’s kneeling before power an isolated series of events. Rashid Khalidi, the Edward Said professor of Arab studies at Columbia, has noted that the university was an eager participant in McCarthyism. “In 1953 its president signed a letter pronouncing communists unfit to teach,” Dr. Khalidi wrote. “Columbia trustees fired two faculty members for opposing the first world war on pacifist grounds, while student conscientious objectors were arrested and jailed.” Columbia, as an institution, “is a place where trustees, donors and powerful professional schools dictate its policy, not the rest of its faculty.”
Is it necessary to spell out what appeasement leads to?

Fast forward to today. Not only has Columbia University acted toward pro-Palestinian students in the same manner that the university acted toward anti-Nazi students in the 1930s, it has gone further, capitulating so thoroughly to the Trump régime’s reactionary thugs that it has ceded control of its curriculum. Despite repeated capitulations to, first, Republican Party no-nothings in Congress and then to the Trump administration, more demands are made. What should Columbia administrators have expected? Appease a bully, and the bully will only demand more. Worse, not only has Columbia disgraced itself, meekly allowing the Trump régime to dictate the content of academic courses, but now that the White House has succeeded in humiliating one of the wealthiest universities in the United States, it will only be emboldened to make similar demands of other universities. We can be certain that Columbia will not be the last target.

The university agreed to create a force of three dozen “special officers” empowered to arrest protestors, ban the wearing of face masks, adopt the right-wing definition of anti-Semitism under which criticism of the Israeli government is declared to be anti-Semitic and appoint an overseer over its Middle Eastern, South Asian and African Studies Department, what the Trump administration calls “academic receivership.” This last item can only mean censorship. In response to this extraordinary appeasement, the Trump administration’s secretary of education, the spectacularly unqualified Linda McMahon, called them a “positive first step” but said these actions were only the beginning of negotiations to restore the $400 million in federal research grants that had been cut off. How many more hoops will Columbia have to jump through? What more academic censorship will be asked? Columbia’s cowardice will undoubtedly lead to more demands, more surrendering of academic freedom to Trump no-nothings who have only contempt for knowledge and scholarship.

The damage has only begun. Not only is there the saga of Mahmoud Khalil, kidnapped and thrown into a Louisiana prison without due process on the mere whim of Secretary of State Marco Rubio, there is Yunseo Chung. Ms. Chung wasn’t even a leader or spokesperson for the pro-Palestinian demonstrations on campus; she merely participated in a sit-in. For the “crime” of participating in a demonstration, the Trump régime is attempting to deport her despite her being a legal resident with green-card status. Ms. Chung is currently in hiding after ICE agents attempted to arrest her; we will see if a judicial order prohibiting her arrest is honored. She has been a resident of the United States since age seven, when her family immigrated to the country; ICE agents told her lawyer her status as a permanent resident is “revoked,” something that Secretary Rubio can not legally do unilaterally. Legal statutes have hardly been a barrier for Trump and his minions in these first months of his second term.

Reaction to the capitulation has been swift, even if voices for academic freedom are likely to be met with indifference by Columbia Interim President Katrina Armstrong, who in an outrageously gaslighting statement had the nerve to say she is “putting academic freedom … at the fore of every decision we make.” Faculty and students, however, would beg to differ.

Todd Wolfson, the president of the American Association of University Professors, said in an interview with Inside Higher Ed, “This is not the outcome we wanted to see. We wanted to see Columbia stand up for their rights for academic freedom and freedom of speech on their campus and we did not expect for them to not only capitulate to the demands of the federal government but actually go beyond the initial demands as far as we can tell.”

The program director for campus free speech at PEN, Kristen Shahverdian, said, “Columbia’s concessions today strike at core principles of academic freedom and self-governance in the higher education sector. This is hardly business as usual. The Trump administration’s demands go far beyond the typical requests the federal government might make to address issues of discrimination and harassment. And the cancellation of $400 million in federal contracts and grants to Columbia was a clear attempt to intimidate the university into complying—which it now has.” A Columbia history professor, Karl Jacoby, noted that “Trump et al. are only getting started.”
As in the 1930s, one-sidedness prevails at Columbia

In an echo of Columbia’s shameful 1930s expulsion of anti-Nazi students and firing of anti-Nazi professors, the same upside-down one-sidedness has prevailed since the unrestrained Israeli assault on Gaza began following the Hamas attacks of October 2023. The full range of this one-sidedness was compiled by Amba Guerguerian, writing for the Indypendent, a community newspaper in New York City that had its origins in the Indymedia movement of the first years of the 21st century.

Several Columbia students demanding Columbia divest from investments that support Israel’s imposition of apartheid that has morphed into ethnic cleansing and genocide have been expelled and the campus remains on lockdown. More punishments are on the way — even an announcement that degrees will be rescinded! (It remains unclear how a university could declare someone to no longer be a degree holder. Do they intend to send police to the homes of graduates to confiscate their paperwork?) Mere participation, even passive actions like sit-ins on the central plaza, is enough for suspensions and expulsions. In contrast, pro-Israel students have carte blanche to carry out violence against pro-Palestinian demonstrators.

Ms. Guerguerian reports on an attack by pro-Israel students who unleashed a chemical attack on pro-Palestinian students that resulted in a horrid stench that couldn’t be removed. She wrote, in the February issue of the Indypendent, “Protesters say the smell clung on to their bodies, clothes and even the sheets they slept in after multiple washes. ‘I tried vinegar, bleach, Dawn dish soap, plain laundry detergent, and I just could not get rid of the smell,’ said Layla Saliba, another student who was at the protest. ‘I was in the shower just scrubbing myself for hours and could not get rid of it.’ ”

Video footage showed “two students, both former Israeli soldiers disguised in keffiyehs, spraying a substance out of a small bottle among the pro-Palestine protesters,” Ms. Guerguerian wrote. “At least ten of the protesters ended up seeking medical care, with symptoms such as burning eyes, breathing problems, nausea, extreme fatigue and long-term vaginal bleeding.” At least one person had to be hospitalized with what was diagnosed as “chemical exposure.” A weapon used by the Israeli military, called Skunk, is believed to have been the agent used, Ms. Guerguerian reported. Skunk is routinely used against Palestinians, who have to throw out all their furniture after coming under Israeli attack because the stench is so intense and not removable with any amount of washing.

Amazingly, one of those two, who was initially suspended for the attack, not only had all charges dropped but Columbia gave him $400,000 as part of a legal settlement! A law professor who denounced the attack was fired. A farce of an “investigation” by the Republican Party-controlled House Committee on Education and the Workforce concluded that a chemical agent wasn’t used but rather was a harmless “fart spray,” although none of the Columbia students on which the agent was used were contacted. Columbia University officials, responding to a request for comment from the Indypendent, agreed with the Republican “investigation” that the substance was a harmless “legal, novelty item,” without providing any evidence for its conclusion.

Meanwhile, the student who had to go to the hospital after being attacked with the spray has been suspended for two years and had her scholarship revoked, which she called an “effective expulsion.”
Declaring a “thought crime” easier than dialogue

All this has been done in the name of “combatting anti-Semitism,” which, in the right-wing and Israel-apologist conception, means criticizing Israel, now apparently a thought crime. A group of Jewish Columbia faculty members sharply challenged the second report of the university “Antisemitism Task Force,” writing in an open letter:


“The report is marked by conspicuous neglectful omissions of context and climate that cast the real challenges it discusses in a political vacuum. A research method that conflates feelings with facts and uses conveniently slippery definitions of important central concepts – not just antisemitism, but also Zionism and anti-Zionism – also fails to represent with any nuance the complex motives and commitments of many parties on campus. In some cases, outright factual misrepresentations of specific incidents or speech call into question not only the report’s central narrative but its seriousness in confronting the problem of prejudice and bias. Finally, its policy recommendations in some cases threaten to damage the fabric of our community further, and seem unlikely to address the real needs of all parts of our campus affected by the conflict in Israel-Palestine. Nuance and precision matter as we seek to restore trust, openness, and free speech in a climate of open inquiry. Intellectual honesty and respect for all parties affected matter if we are to protect community members in a time of armed conflict. We cannot achieve these crucial goals with the blunt instrument of the Task Force’s report.”

We should instead be at a point where terming Israeli actions toward the Palestinian people genocide is an accepted part of serious discussion, given how common the terminology has become in reports by human rights organizations. Amnesty International, a throughly mainstream organization and perhaps the world’s best known mass human rights group, has stated that “Israel has committed and is continuing to commit genocide against Palestinians in the occupied Gaza Strip” and that “Israel has treated Palestinians in Gaza as a subhuman group unworthy of human rights and dignity, demonstrating its intent to physically destroy them.” Human Rights Watch, an organization that has subtle biases toward U.S. foreign policy, nonetheless said, “Israeli authorities are responsible for the crime against humanity of extermination and for acts of genocide,” pointing to the intentional destruction of water and infrastructure supplies and concluding that “Israeli authorities have intentionally created conditions of life calculated to bring about the physical destruction of Palestinians in Gaza in whole or in part.” Doctors Without Borders/Medecins Sans Frontières has also declared Israeli destruction of Gaza as a genocide, pointing out the blockade of food, water and medical supplies and of humanitarian assistance.

Finally, the Israeli human rights organization B’Tselem said that “mass killings” and “ethnic cleansing”are being perpetrated in Gaza and that “All international bodies and institutions must act now to compel Israel to stop the war and end the carnage.” Israel’s leading newspaper, Haaretz, has published an article stating that what Israel is doing to Palestinians is “precisely what genocide looks like.” Is B’Tselem anti-Semitic? Is Haaretz? Is Jewish Voice for Peace?

What ultimately is behind the furious campaign to silence criticism of Israel? A forceful attempt to silence dissent, of course, and to criminalize not simply criticism of the Israeli government but to criminalize opposition to U.S. foreign policy and imperialism, without which Israeli’s sustained human rights abuses would not be possible. The two are intimately connected, and right-wingers, with the full force of the U.S. government now behind them, have decided this is their chance to eliminate dissent once and for all. But the situation at Columbia is emblematic of larger issues, not only the opening Columbia has given to the Trump régime and the enemies of education.
Sharpening the attacks on education and what education does

What corporate leaders of the United States have long wanted, and even industrialists and financiers who feel squeamish at the more extreme antics of Trump but nonetheless salivate at the giveaways he will shower on them, is to create a world of drones. Their desire is to mold children to be proficient in narrow technical skills without the ability to think originally. Thus the never-ending attacks on liberal arts education, and higher education in general, and the mania for standardized testing. If courses that teach philosophical concepts and creative, independent thinking are eliminated, and students are simply given only a series of technical courses as if university is nothing more than a training program for corporate jobs, then the ability of newer generations to comprehend their world and act upon it is reduced. That is the point. Such a world might be fine for corporate elites wishing for a compliant future workforce, but is no benefit to the students themselves.

This dovetails with not only the Trump régime’s intention to eliminate the U.S. Department of Education — that a government department can only be eliminated by congressional vote and not White House diktat seems to be of little concern in the White House — but also with the corporate push for charter schools. That push in turn dovetails with the drive to destroy public education. A powerful lesson in how to fight back was provided by the public school teachers in Chicago in 2012. As part of the “war against teachers,” then Chicago Mayor Rahm Emanuel (the infamous “Mayor 1%”) and the hedge-fund managers funding him and the privatization of schools via charters apparently believed that the teachers, primarily African-American women, believed they would be easy targets. But the teachers had worked hard at organizing community support.

The successful 2012 strike demonstrated that democracy and community involvement are indispensable. Chicago teachers and their union worked with the community ahead of time to explain the stakes, and to prepare parents for the possibility that they would be forced to go on strike. When the inevitable attacks came in the predictable form — “the teachers are greedy,” “the teachers only care about getting more of your tax money” — they did not have the usual impact. Mayor Emanuel had clearly expected the community to be on his side; instead the people were with the teachers.

The Trump régime has launched an all-out war on the working people of the United States and begun an intensified renewal of U.S. imperialism; no diplomatic niceties now. Yes, of course the U.S. has imposed a highly exploitative imperialism on the world regardless of what party is in power and has long imposed a particularly vicious brand of capitalism at home and abroad. But the Trump régime has drastically upped the stakes. Its coalition of far-Right ideologues, White supremacists, misogynists and Christian fundamentalists seemed determined to undermine what few safeguards ordinary bourgeois formal democracy remain with an ultimate goal of imposing a fascist dictatorship. The first Trump administration did not succeed in going beyond those formal democratic bounds but is more organized and determined for this second term.

Once again, it is necessary to ask when does a bourgeois formal democracy tip over into a fascist dictatorship? This question is not necessarily separable from asking if the current phase of capitalism, known as neoliberalism to most of the world, is coming to an end. Fascism, or some somewhat less severe right-wing dictatorship on behalf of capital, would be one way for industrialists and financiers to keep their party going, at our expense. Any social base for such a movement would, in the U.S., prominently include the Christian fundamentalists, White supremacists and misogynists already emboldened by the rise of Trump’s “MAGA” movement. The hostility of this noxious coalition is unavoidable, and the attacks on Columbia University, and its administration’s capitulation to those attacks, are but one manifestation of an all-out assault on what democracy remains in the plutocratic United States. The pushback against this needs to be much stronger and more systematic, connecting and linking movements, or we will see worse.

Demonizing opponents to the point of calling those who participate in pickets against Tesla dealerships “terrorists” is dangerous language that has begun to, and will, have consequences. Dehumanizing people for their ethnic, racial or immigration status, or for disliking their politics, has consequences. History is clear about this slippery slope, as noted by Henry Giroux, who has been sounding the alarm bells:


“Under Trump, the treatment of dissenters does not mirror exactly what we saw under Hitler, Pinochet, or the Argentine dictatorship, but it bears what Martin Wolf has called “authoritarianism with fascist characteristics.” As history teaches, repression begins with language before it becomes law, and law before it becomes violence. The Nazis labeled dissenters as terrorists, with Heinrich Himmler making clear that students who defied the Reich had no place in its vision, likening them to pests that needed to be eradicated. Pinochet branded universities as breeding grounds for terrorists, justifying mass arrests, torture, and executions. Argentina’s military regime abducted students, hurled them from planes and murdered over 30,000. Trump’s administration has not committed such atrocities, but the rhetoric and policies are in place. The machinery is being built, and history warns us: once the conditions are set, the horrors we thought belonged to the past can return in forms we failed to imagine.”

Let’s have no more pretending we can’t tell the difference between bourgeois formal democracy, deeply constricted and repressive as it is, and actual fascism. We are not having this conversation in a concentration camp. Yet.


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Pete Dolack is an activist, writer, poet, and photographer. He has been involved in various activist organizations, including Trade Justice New York Metro, National People’s Campaign, and New York Workers Against Fascism, among others. He has authored the books "It’s Not Over: Learning from the Socialist Experiment," which examines attempts to create societies outside of capitalism and explores their relevance to the present world while seeking a path to a better future and "What Do We Need Bosses For: Toward Economic Democracy," which analyzes past and present efforts to establish systems of economic democracy on a national or society-wide basis. He authored the book "It’s Not Over: Learning from the Socialist Experiment," which examines attempts to create societies outside of capitalism and explores their relevance to the present world while seeking a path to a better future.

Tuesday, March 25, 2025

Abducting Bodies, Silencing Dissent: Mahmoud Khalil and the Rise of State Terror


 March 21, 2025
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Photograph Source: SWinxy – CC BY 4.0

Introduction

The abduction of Mahmoud Khalil is not an isolated event—it is a chilling testament to the authoritarian turn in the United States, where dissent is met not with debate but with brute force, and the machinery of state terror moves with ruthless precision. In his own words, Khalil, a Columbia University graduate, an activist for Palestinian freedom, and a permanent U.S. resident, was seized by ICE agents without warning—handcuffed, dragged from his apartment lobby, shoved into an unmarked black car, and disappeared. In minutes, his rights were violated and his body made vulnerable and disposable. Khalil instantly became another casualty in the Trump administration’s escalating war against those who refuse to kneel before its politics of white supremacy, settler-colonial violence, ominous threats, and unchecked lawlessness. His disappearance is both a precedent and a warning—a stark reminder that in regimes built on repression, silence is coerced, and resistance is a crime.

What happened to Khalil echoes through history, from the Gestapo’s pursuit of political dissidents to the “Dirty Wars” of Latin America, where students, intellectuals, and activists were labeled as terrorists and made to vanish without a trace. The equating of dissent with terrorism is a central feature of authoritarian regimes. The end point of which is the torture chamber, prisons, concentration camps, and the death of any vestige of human rights, civil liberties, and democracy. Today, those same logics of power are being reanimated under the guise of national security, as Trump’s government systematically dismantles the right to protest, the sanctity of citizenship, and the democratic ideals that once stood as a bulwark against tyranny.

To understand Khalil’s abduction is to confront the broader assault on dissent in an era where the state wields the power to disappear those who refuse to conform or be complicit. The illegal abduction of Khalil is not only about the attack on free speech, but also about the gutting of historical memory, civic literacy, and the institutions that provide a culture of critique that creates informed citizens. The state terrorism on display in Khalil’s case is not just about one student, one protest, or one administration—it is about the fate of democracy itself. The question now is not whether we recognize these warning signs, but whether we act before it is too late.

The Nightmare Returns

Trump’s return to the White House has unleashed a full-scale assault on civil liberties, democratic institutions, and the very possibility of holding power accountable. No longer constrained by those who once sought to temper his worst impulses, Trump now governs with open contempt for the rule of law, emboldened by a movement that thrives on cruelty, grievance, and unrelenting violence. His language has always been a weapon—honed by fear, sharpened by menace, and wielded to incite violence against immigrants, Black Americans, and anyone who dares to challenge his rule.

For years, the mainstream press dismissed Trump’s rhetoric as nothing more than bluster—an act designed for entertainment or spectacularized provocation rather than a genuine call to power. His declaration of wanting to be a “dictator for a day” and a subsequent quote, “He who saves his Country does not violate any Law,”  were met with little more than a shrug, treated with barely a flicker of concern. Many assumed his fascist threats were nothing but empty theatrics, comforted by the belief that handlers and legal restraints would keep him in check. But that illusion has now been shattered.

As his second presidency unfolds, the machinery of authoritarianism is no longer emerging—it is fully operational. The punishing state now stands boldly, criminalizing dissent, weaponizing the justice system, dismantling public and higher education, abducting individuals, embracing corruption, and executing mass deportations with a cold, calculating efficiency that evokes some of America’s darkest historical chapters. This legacy echoes in the Palmer Raids of 1919-1920, when thousands of leftists, anarchists, and immigrants were arrested without cause, often enduring brutal treatment. The Red Scare, especially during the McCarthy era of the 1950s, marked another grim chapter, as government-sanctioned witch hunts destroyed lives and careers on the flimsiest of accusations. In the wake of the Vietnam War, opposition to the conflict was labeled un-American, culminating in the tragic deaths of students at Kent State. More recently, the Bush administration’s War on Terror after 9/11 extended this grim tradition, with mass surveillance, indefinite detention, and the widespread abuse of prisoners at Guantanamo Bay—all justified in the name of national security.

 From the Palmer Raids and McCarthyism to the abuses of the Bush era, these events form a brutal continuum, each rooted in the criminalization of dissent and the targeting of marginalized communities. They expose the long-standing tradition of the state using its powers of repression to quash opposition and enforce ideological orthodoxy. Trump has not only laid bare this dark legacy of state violence and the war on dissent, he has also modernized it, appropriating tactics honed during the “Dirty Wars” in Argentina, the deadly repression of students under Pinochet in Chile, and the Gestapo-like methods employed by Nazi Germany in service of racial cleansing and the politics of disposability. In doing so, he has reinvigorated a dangerous historical playbook, turning it into a weapon against those who dare to resist and those who support the notion of universal citizenship.

History Matters

History—and the dangerous memories it carries—matters because it exposes the lingering shadows of authoritarianism, offering warnings essential to recognizing and resisting its return in new forms. As Paul Gilroy reminds us, “Those horrors are always much closer to us than we like to imagine. Preventing their recurrence requires keeping them in mind.” Fascism today is not a replica of the past, but its mobilizing passions remain dangerously familiar. Primo Levi’sprescient warning echoes in our time: “Every age has its own fascism, and we see the warning signs wherever the concentration of power denies citizens the possibility and the means of expressing and acting on their own free will.”

Under Trump, the treatment of dissenters does not mirror exactly what we saw under Hitler, Pinochet, or the Argentine dictatorship, but it bears what Martin Wolf has called “authoritarianism with fascist characteristics.” As history teaches, repression begins with language before it becomes law, and law before it becomes violence. The Nazis labeled dissenters as terrorists, with Heinrich Himmler making clear that students who defied the Reich had no place in its vision, likening them to pests that needed to be eradicated. Pinochet branded universities as breeding grounds for terrorists, justifying mass arrests, torture, and executions. Argentina’s military regime abducted students hurled them from planes and murdered over 30,000. Trump’s administration has not committed such atrocities, but the rhetoric and policies are in place. The machinery is being built, and history warns us: once the conditions are set, the horrors we thought belonged to the past can return in forms we failed to imagine.

It is crucial to emphasize that the abduction and state persecution of Khalil and other students fighting for Palestinian freedom, along with their defense of the university as a democratic public good, is not merely an assault on free speech and academic freedom—it is a direct embodiment of what  G.M. Tamas identifies as the core feature of fascism: “hostility to universal citizenship.”  As part of his grab for uncontested power, Trump views citizenship as only something he can grant rather than a constitutional right. Tamas views this rightly as central feature of what he calls post-fascism.

This reveals something even more insidious and deadly: Trump’s relentless tirades against communists, trans people, immigrants, Black people, Jews, and LGBTQ individuals are not just acts of ideological aggression—they are attempts to strip these groups of their very humanity. As Tamas notes, framing them “as non-citizens,“ Trump casts them as non-human, relegating them to a status beneath recognition and rights. This dehumanization is the very linchpin of fascism, paving the way for the violence that inevitably follows—violence framed as justified, even necessary. The barbaric actions of ICE and other elements of the punishing state, function as “a racial police force”—engaged in often illegal, sensationalized arrests and abductions of students, and grotesque chain gang marches of immigrants—carry a dark racial undertone. The defense of these actions are laced with the poison of racist police brutality and emboldened vigilantism, poisoning communities and revealing the deep, dangerous roots of racialized violence that is spreading to every corner of American society.

Domestic Terrorism as the Organizing Principle of Politics

For Trump and his morally vacuous sycophants, war has become the negation of democracy, if not politics itself. With its focus on the elimination of dissidents, critics, and those considered disloyal and disposable, the militarization of all aspects of society moves from the margins of society “the very heart of governance. As Theodore Adorno and othershave illuminated, Trump’s actions echo long-established patterns of domination, crystallizing into a chilling celebration of hierarchy, power, cruelty, and the cult of masculinity, all underscored by a profound disdain for those deemed weak. In his alignment with authoritarian figures, Trump not only venerates dictators but also threatens to unravel alliances forged over generations, launching trade wars and territorial aggression in his wake. His regime is not merely lawless—it is a deliberate and systematic dismantling of democratic norms, reshaping the United States into a fascist order where power is consolidated, the billionaire class is enriched, and opposition is silenced through fear, repression, and the chaos he himself stirs. This is not governance, but a descent into a state of perpetual turmoil, designed to secure control at any cost.

This brand of authoritarian governance is most evident in its assault on higher and public education, waging a relentless campaign to ban books on gender, Black history, and courses addressing transgender issues and pressing social injustices. But it doesn’t stop there. As Jason Stanley notes, Trump’s plan to dismantle the Department of Education is a brazen attempt to strip funding from Title I, a program that provides essential federal support for students in underfunded urban and rural schools, special education programs for disabled students, and a host of other vital educational initiatives. Weaponizing a fabricated charge of antisemitism, Trump has also threatened to withdraw federal funding from 60 colleges as a means of coercing universities into submission. In doing so, he has targeted faculty, students, and entire academic programs deemed incompatible with a white nationalist, Christian fundamentalist vision of education. This is not just an attack; it is an attempt to remake education as a tool of ideological indoctrination and authoritarian control. Disturbingly, a growing number of universities are capitulating to these demands, with Columbia University among those enabling them.  Unfortunately, too many university presidents and academics remain silent, “refusing to make a firm public defense of democracy”—rendering themselves complicit in an educational model that bears an alarming resemblance to the historical precedents of Nazi Germany and the current reality of Orban’s Hungary.

Clearly the gravity of this moment demands more than the usual analyses of corruption and political overreach. What we are witnessing is not just the dismemberment of constitutional protections or the expansion of a violent state—it is domestic terrorism orchestrated from the highest levels of government. This is not simply the erosion of rights but the calculated deployment of fear, a homegrown machinery of repression that transforms governance into an instrument of terror. It is a malignant legality, waging war on the American public under the guise of law and order, where power no longer merely punishes but seeks to invoke a living death on those it marks as enemies. The arrest of Khalil and others—both Jews and non-Jews—who stood in solidarity with Palestinian freedom, has been smeared as antisemitic violence. This framing blurs the line between state repression and the broader attack on critical thought itself. Under the Trump regime, thinking is viewed as a form of moral cowardice and as Umberto Eco insightfully observed in his critique of fascism, critical thinking is also smeared as a form of emasculation.

The Politics of Annihilation and Disappearance

This is a politics of annihilation—one that does not always kill outright but keeps entire populations in a state of unrelenting precarity, caught between survival and disappearance. As Judith Butler warns, this is the logic of governance that “produces precarity, sustaining populations on the edge of death, sometimes killing its members, and sometimes not.” It is a form of slow violence, where existence itself is made tenuous, where immigrants, dissidents, the poor, and the racialized are left in a state of permanent vulnerability, their lives dictated not by the rule of law but by the whims of power.

Trump’s ceaseless torrent of lies, his relentless branding of dissidents as “terrorists,” “Hamas supporters,” and “enemies from within,” along with his call for brutal retribution and the imprisoning of his foes—journalists, judges, politicians, and prosecutors—forms an insidious architecture of terror and lawlessness. This system is designed to silence, disappear, and annihilate those who resist. We must pause and reflect when Attorney General Bondi claims that a judge supports terrorism merely because he ruled against the Alien Enemy Act’s use for mass deportations. Or when, under the guise of  a restraining government order, Dr. Rasha Alawieh—an esteemed Lebanese kidney transplant specialist and Brown University professor who holds a valid H-1B visa—was illegally deported. However, it is crucial to consider the racialized and religious context of this action. Dr. Alawieh, as a Muslim Arab woman, is not being targeted not for any criminal wrongdoing, but more than likely because of her identity.

The persecution of Khalil is not an isolated injustice but part of a broader, systemic pattern of state-sanctioned repression—one in which individuals of Muslim or Arab descent are disproportionately targeted, not for any crimes they have committed, but for who they are. As Jeffrey St. Clair aptly observes, Khalil is now facing deportation despite never having been charged with a crime. In reality, his only “offense” is daring to exercise his right to free speech—denouncing, with moral clarity, what countless international organizations and human rights groups have recognized as Israel’s genocidal war against Palestinians.

This is precisely why authoritarian white nationalists like Donald Trump, Marco Rubio, and Stephen Miller have seized upon Khalil, transforming him into a high-profile political prisoner. Their attack on him is inseparable from their broader war on dissent, on youth resistance, and on the right to condemn state-sanctioned atrocities. Khalil’s crime in their eyes is not violence, nor extremism, nor any violation of law—it is his refusal to be silent in the face of the illegal and morally depraved slaughter of innocent women and children in Gaza by Netanyahu and his far-right government.

What unnerves Trump and his enforcers is that Khalil, like so many other young people, refuses to bow before their authoritarian rule. His activism stands in direct defiance of the ideology they seek to impose—an ideology that demands obedience, that criminalizes resistance, that seeks to erase the very possibility of solidarity between oppressed peoples. Nowhere is this clearer than in the Trump administration’s willingness to wield the full force of a lawless, punishing state to crush those who dare hold power accountable.

The government has branded Khalil a threat, falsely accusing him of siding with terrorists, of making Jewish-Americans “feel unsafe,” of aligning with Hamas. Yet, as St. Clair makes clear, Khalil’s statements on Israel are strikingly diplomatic, rooted in a vision of justice that recognizes the inextricable ties between Palestinian and Jewish liberation. St. Clair quotes Khalil to make this point clear.

“As a Palestinian student, I believe that the liberation of the Palestinian people and the Jewish people are intertwined and go hand in hand, and you cannot achieve one without the other.” He described the movement as one “for social justice and freedom and equality for everyone.” Khalil told CNN during an interview in 2024: “There is, of course, no place for antisemitism. What we are witnessing is anti-Palestinian sentiment that’s taking different forms and antisemitism, Islamophobia, racism [are] some of these forms.”

Khalil’s case is not just about him. It is about the Trump administration’s broader assault on democracy, on protest, on the very right to resist injustice. He has become a symbol of a state determined to silence its critics, a state that punishes the young for their refusal to submit to its dictates. And in that, he stands as both a warning and an inspiration. Because if Khalil’s persecution tells us anything, it is that the struggle for justice is far from over—and that those in power will wield every instrument of state violence to suppress it.

Yet his fate is not an isolated tragedy; it is a harbinger of a deeper, more insidious transformation—the descent into a lawless regime that openly defies the courts, weaponizes ancient statutes like the Alien Enemies Act of 1798, and erases due process with impunity. Trump’s brazen push to expel hundreds of Venezuelan immigrants, without legal justification, is not an anomaly; it is a template, a warning shot for a future in which dissent itself is criminalized, where anyone—Palestinian, immigrant, student, protester—can be branded a “terrorist” and exiled from the nation’s conscience. As Norman Ornsteinno radical, warns with chilling precision: This is American Gestapo. But history has shown, time and again, that movements born in truth do not die under repression. They only grow stronger.

Weaponizing Terrorism

Trump’s tendency to label any dissent as terrorism is both absurd and dangerous. His words on the White House lawn, stating that people protesting at Tesla dealerships across the country “should be labeled domestic terrorists” illuminate this perfectly. Branding dissenters and anybody who is critical of the Trump administration as terrorists is a hallmark of fascism—not just a weapon against free speech, but a means of erasing their humanity. It casts them as evil, irredeemable, and a threat to be crushed, legitimizing state violence in the process. The reckless expansion of this charge is the mark of a state that mutilates bodies, justice, democracy, and the very notion of humanity itself.

This politics of deceit, lawlessness, abduction, and disappearance reveals the mechanisms of white supremacy at work by which people of color are rendered disposable. At loss here are not just political and legal rights, but the dispossession of bodies thrust into zones that accelerate the death of the unwanted in what Robert Jay Lifton has described as a “death-saturated age.”  The danger here is not simply that Trump and his political officials criminalize opposition and eliminate free speech, but that they are laying the groundwork for horrors of the past, once thought unimaginable in the United States. These include: the widespread use of state-sanctioned violence, mass arrests, disappearances, death squads, and the slow, methodical erosion of any space where truth, justice, and dissent might still survive.

Conclusion

To understand Trump’s reign of terror, we must move beyond conventional political analysis. We must historicize it, trace its roots, expose the cultural forces that make it possible, and refuse to look away from the totality of his repression. The normalization of fascist politics in America is not just a function of law or policy—it is a war over meaning, over memory, agency, over the capacity to imagine a different future. What we are witnessing in the current historical moment is the final evolution of neoliberal violence with the appearance of a criminogenic state that criminalizes social problems and dissent, repackaging them as a war on terrorism. Salvation comes with blind loyalty, the normalization of a politics of disposability, erasure, and the bold face emergence of a police state.

State engineered violence, cruelty, and rise of organized terror as the governing principle of the Trump regime is not a mere aberration; it is an intentional distortion of governance—a calculated shift in how the state wields power. This is a moment when state-engineered violence and cruelty are not just actions but guiding principles, tearing at the fabric of justice, and embedding terror into the very essence of what was once an unassailable democracy. This crisis—the systemic violation of civil rights, the suppression of free speech, and the targeting of political activism—must be understood as part of a historical rupture. It is part of what Nancy Fraser once called “a crisis of the social totality, one in which conscience, ethics, and politics are yoked together in a struggle to retain our collective humanity.”

Khalil’s story is not merely an anomaly—it is a stark warning. His suffering, like that of countless others, illuminates the brutal consequences of a society where those who challenge power, or who refuse to conform to the narrow confines of white Christian nationalism, find themselves not only stripped of citizenship and dignity, but disappear into the black hole of social and political abandonment. In an era overshadowed by rising totalitarian fascism, the very fabric of American society is being redefined by reactionary ideological closures that determine who is deemed worthy of belonging, who is silenced, and who is subjected to state violence. These actions are not random or isolated; they are part of a chilling, systemic effort to expunge history, destroy the capacity for critical thought, criminalize dissent, disappear the bodies and identities of those deemed ‘other’ by race, ethnicity, or religion.

This is the fascist machinery of control in motion—an apparatus designed to reshape the world in the image of those who hold power, leaving in its wake a landscape where justice is no longer governed by the rule of law, but by the dictates of global authoritarianism. It is the nightmare of a capitalism that has reached its terminal point, now ruling through terror, force, a reactionary culture, and a machinery of death. The promises of equality, social mobility, the redistribution of rights, and justice have crumbled, facing a legitimacy crisis and all but dead in their appeal. What remains is a brutal form of gangster capitalism, a technofascism where the ideologues of Trump and Musk boldly and unapologetically proclaim not merely that the U.S. has become a more recognizably authoritarian state, but that an endpoint has been reached where the U.S. if not the world “can belong only to a few.” This is no longer the promise of democracy, but its death knell.

Trump’s assault on civil rights, his war on free speech, and his crackdown on political activism do not mark the beginning of authoritarianism in America—they are its continuation, its escalation. This playbook is not new. It echoes the brutal tactics of countries such as Saudi Arabia, Israel, and India, where dissent is silenced, resistance is rebranded as terrorism, and critics of the state disappear without consequence. What we are witnessing is the slow but deliberate dismantling of the legal and democratic guardrails that once restrained power.

Arwa Mahdawi’s warning in The Guardian is both urgent and undeniable: “We are sliding toward an authoritarian future at alarming speed.” But this is not some distant horizon. Repression is not creeping—it is here. Freedoms are not eroding—they are being stripped away in real time, before our very eyes. And as Mahdawi reminds us, “All of our freedoms are intertwined.”

To defend one is to defend all. The fight for justice cannot be compartmentalized, parceled out to the persecuted few. When one of us is silenced, shackled, imprisoned, deported, or erased, it is not just a student, an activist, or an immigrant who suffers—it is democracy itself that is wounded. The struggle is not solitary; it is shared. The stakes are not theoretical or abstract; they are existential, lived, drenched in a painful assault on the body. Resistance is no longer an idea—it is an imperative. It is the fault line between democracy and tyranny, between freedom and subjugation, between life and death. Silence is complicity. Now is the time to rise. This is not a moment for half-measures or polite appeals—it is a battle that must be waged collectively by workers, educators, students, cultural workers, unions, minorities of color and class, and all those who refuse to live under the yoke of gangster capitalism and its brutal machinery of exploitation. This is not a plea for reform—it is a call for radical transformation, a decisive break from the obscene inequalities, entrenched power, and suffocating grip of financial elites. The future cannot be a mirror of an authoritarian present; it must be seized, forged in struggle, and built from the ruins of a system that has long served only the powerful. The shadows of fascism are thickening, spreading across the globe. We either resist—or we are consumed. The struggle against a capitalist future will be difficult, but there are no other options as the death march of fascism increasingly encircles the globe.

Henry A. Giroux currently holds the McMaster University Chair for Scholarship in the Public Interest in the English and Cultural Studies Department and is the Paulo Freire Distinguished Scholar in Critical Pedagogy. His most recent books include: The Terror of the Unforeseen (Los Angeles Review of books, 2019), On Critical Pedagogy, 2nd edition (Bloomsbury, 2020); Race, Politics, and Pandemic Pedagogy: Education in a Time of Crisis (Bloomsbury 2021); Pedagogy of Resistance: Against Manufactured Ignorance (Bloomsbury 2022) and Insurrections: Education in the Age of Counter-Revolutionary Politics (Bloomsbury, 2023), and coauthored with Anthony DiMaggio, Fascism on Trial: Education and the Possibility of Democracy (Bloomsbury, 2025). Giroux is also a member of Truthout’s board of directors.