My friend Maarten Boudry, a Belgian philosopher, has been increasingly demonized for his heterodox views, especially on the Hamas/Israel war, since he is sympathetic to Israel (he isn’t Jewish). In the latest post on his Substack site, also published in condensed form in The Jewish Chronicle, Maarten recounts how there is a near-unanimity among European academics that Israel is the Great Satan. Any dissent on this issue is ruthlessly suppressed. Because of this, one gets a false impression, says Boudry, that European academia is united in hating Israel, Zionists, and, by extension, Jews.
Boudry himself, as you see below, has lost his position at the University of Ghent because of his outspokenness. In the article he does a small experiment showing that there is indeed dissent that Israel is committing “genocide”, but academics who disagree about the Israeli “genocide” dare not speak up. This “spiral of silence”, as Steve Pinker calls it, suppresses speech, and is one reason why many American universities are beginning to adopt institutional neutrality—a policy that promotes free expression.
Click below to read the Substack piece. 
Unless you’re in Europe, you have no idea how strong and pervasive the anti-Israel pressure is. In an article in Quillette, Maarten and I described how we and another academic were canceled from giving a talk at the University of Amsterdam on the ideological suppression of science—a talk that had absolutely nothing to do with Israel. And yet we were explicitly told by the student science organization that our talk was cancelled because of our views on Israel. That was my first experience with cancellation, and believe me, it affected me strongly. I couldn’t believe that fellow scientists were blackballing us simply because of our views on the war, and for a talk that had nothing to do with that war. We were, apparently, tainted.
But on to Maarten’s narrative; his quotes are indented below. He begins by describing the academic consensus that Israel aims at genocide in Gaza, and recounts his own demonization.
In Europe, social pressure is even more intense than in the United States. A petition opposing the IAGS resolution garnered hundreds of signatories in the U.S., but only a handful in Europe—primarily in Germany and around a single London-based center for antisemitism research. In the Low Countries, where I live, my stance on the Gaza war has left me increasingly isolated within the ivory tower. In an interview with the Belgian newspaper De Morgen, the rector of my alma mater, Ghent University, declared that any academic questioning the genocide in Gaza can no longer rely on the protections of academic freedom: “This is a line that cannot be crossed.” Five professors have called on the previous rector to discipline me for my “Zionist-tinged” views. I’ve also been deplatformed twice at the University of Amsterdam for my views on Israel, a matter I detailed inQuillette together with my friend and fellow cancellee, the biologist Jerry Coyne.
And yet, for the past two years, I have been receiving regular emails from academic colleagues that can be summarized as follows: “I completely agree with you and am glad that you’re fighting this battle, but please keep it quiet—I don’t want to get into trouble.” The social pressure to condemn Israel, preferably in the strongest possible terms, has become so intense that many dissidents no longer dare to speak out. After a number of such discreet messages of support, I began to grow annoyed. To the outside world, it appeared as if I was the only academic rejecting the official narrative—but in reality, many others agreed with me.
This reluctance to speak up gives rise to what psychologists call pluralistic ignorance: people mistakenly assume that they are alone in holding a dissenting opinion and therefore either remain silent or misrepresent their own views, inadvertently perpetuating the illusion of consensus and raising the social cost of dissent.
Maarten then did a nonscientific experiment (there could have been respondent bias), but one showing there’s a lot more sympathy for Israel than you’d guess from living as a European academic:
In the spirit of the [“Emperor has no clothes”] fable, I wanted to see whether there was a way to break the spell. What if people could anonymously explain why they believed the emperor was naked, without exposing themselves to social or professional risk? To test this, I collected anonymous testimonies from academics with dissenting views on Israel and Gaza, by putting out a call on X in Dutch. The testimonies that landed in my inbox were both sobering and chilling.
Chilling to the reader, but also chilling to speech. Academics in Europe won’t dare to speak in sympathy with Israel, or contest the stupid “genocide” canard against Israel, for fear of professional repercussions. There’s a long list of responses, but I’ll give only a few:
A senior lecturer at a Dutch university writes: “I’m afraid to share my thoughts freely with my colleagues and feel restricted in my freedom to speak openly about this.” A philosophy professor describes academic debate on the war in Gaza as effectively “impossible”: “Critical voices are silenced through exclusion, dismissal, and sometimes even violence. In such circumstances, I don’t feel compelled to express my critical thoughts openly.” Another Dutch lecturer admits bluntly: “I certainly keep my mouth shut about my views to my colleagues.”
. . . . Among the testimonies are also voices with the relevant expertise, rarely heard in mainstream media. A professor of military law stresses that “extreme caution is required” on the question of genocide and warns against “jumping to conclusions.” Some actors, he notes, “automatically assimilate the conduct of hostilities with acts of genocide, but this reasoning seems incorrect to me.” A doctor of law and former advisor to the International Court of Justice, who has pored over previous genocide dossiers for many years, writes in a lengthy email: “I am not convinced that Israel is committing genocide, but I am currently raising capital and will not risk taking this position publicly.”
Dissenting opinions can be found even at the highest levels of academic institutions. A vice-chancellor of a Belgian university observes: “The Gaza mania that is currently prevailing seems to me a collective madness. The call to declare what Israel is doing a genocide is in line with this.” Yet in official communications, universities often strike a different tone, shaping and constraining the debate. A Ghent academic notes that the election of our new rector Petra De Sutter—who is strongly anti-Israel—further worsened the atmosphere: “I saw this tendency strengthen following the rector elections. Either you were outspoken, or else you were better off keeping quiet. The election result and the political convictions of the new rector have reinforced their ideology.”
. . . .Another lecturer’s testimony illustrates how subtle yet pervasive the professional and social repercussions can be, even for tenured staff: “I stopped reposting and commenting about Israel on X after noticing that my university suddenly stopped sharing any of my achievements. While colleagues were receiving retweets and links to their projects, mine went unnoticed, whereas this had never happened before.” The pressure extended to the social realm, with colleagues unfollowing him or no longer responding to messages. Ultimately, he gave up the fight for family-related reasons: “The decisive factor came when my wife asked me to leave the fight to others. We simply cannot afford to lose our jobs.” Several colleagues describe struggling with guilt for remaining silent, scolding themselves as “cowards” or “sell-outs.”
And the understatement of the year:
Several colleagues explicitly argue that the academic hostility towards Israel stems from antisemitism.
This hostility, says Boudry, also obtains largely in Canada, and in Europe can degenerate into threats of violence for those sympathetic to Israel or Jews:
Even before October 7, an Israeli academic working at a European university relates how he moved his tutorials off campus, because the threat of physical violence was constantly on his mind, even though his academic field was completely unrelated to Israel or the Middle East: “I always worried about being known as an Israeli and outspoken about my views that someone could just show up and attack me.” After the October 7 massacre and the ensuing Gaza war, of course the situation became far worse. An anti-Zionist website hosted on a server in the Netherlands even placed bounties for assassination as high as $100,000 on the heads of Israeli academics.
If you think this violence is directed simply against “Zionists”, and has nothing to do with Jews, I have some land in Florida to sell you. People didn’t stop to survey people’s views on Israel before they commit massacres on Australian beaches or in American synagogues.
In the end, Boudry concludes that censoriousness, threats of professional reprisal, and threats of violence have produced an artificial and false consensus about Israel being The Great Satan:
The academic consensus on Israel is, therefore, partly a mirage. Pluralistic ignorance, suppression of dissent and fear of professional and social reprisal have produced an artificial unanimity that is untethered from evidence and reasoned debate. In particular, the “Gaza genocide” accusation has become the Left’s equivalent of the stolen election hoax on the American Right—a baseless claim that signals ideological allegiance precisely because it defies logic and evidence. It functions much like mantras such as “men can get pregnant” or “scientific and Indigenous ways of knowing are equally valid”: deep down everyone understands that it’s nonsense, but that is precisely what allows it to serve as an ideological litmus test. Breaking the spiral of silence will require more people to step forward and call out such nonsense, thereby lowering the social cost of dissent.
Again, the only remedy for this is a tough one; dissenters must be willing to speak out in a climate of hostility. And European universities must do more to allow free speech. I don’t know of any university outside the U.S.—though here I may be wrong—that both promotes freedom of speech and maintains an policy of institutional neutrality, whereby the school takes no official position on moral, ideolotical, or political issues. If we think we have things bad in America, remember that it’s far worse across the pond.
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A poster in Dam Square, Amsterdam, photographed in May, 2024:








