Young people, in and out of college, should have a say and stake in our common and public affairs. They have so much to contribute, as we declare incessantly. University students, touted as our raison d’etre, must be able to deliberate openly and freely on matters concerning their own institution and society at large. They often raise points and offer perspectives that older generations might overlook and even disparage.

It should go without saying that senior constituents — faculty, staff and administration — must defend students’ unhindered rights to participate in reasoned, moral and empirically-based debates and to dissent and protest against dominant establishment-endorsed policies. Even less contestable should be students’ obligations and prerogatives to make democratic decisions without interference from unjustifiable pressure from donors, politicians or lobbies.

On Tuesday, April 16, 2024, the Binghamton University Student Association (SA) adopted a resolution expressing support for the nonviolent Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) campaign which seeks to pressure Israel to meet its obligations under international law. In practical terms, the resolution aims for BU administrators to sever the University’s partnerships with the defense industry, particularly companies like Lockheed Martin and BAE Systems.

Broadly speaking, the resolution, which passed 14 to 11, should not be contentious. It reflects a clear and longstanding global consensus, unequivocal recommendations by the United Nations and a growing majoritarian position in the United States. But even if the resolution were controversial in our narrower context, it should not be censured and overturned as commanded by intrusive state legislators. The University must not succumb to demands for extraordinary processes and authoritarian intimidation that would reverse our students’ fair and transparent vote. Giving into these external pressures entails irreparable costs that might not be fully perceptible.

An obvious cost of subverting the SA’s democratic process is that broad swaths of the campus population, from diverse backgrounds and political traditions, will lose faith in the civic institutions we never tire of encouraging them to participate in. The student body and its representatives will reasonably conclude that these forms of engagement and the spirit animating them are shams.

But overturning democratic student decision-making matters beyond the dulling of civic participation and the cynicism it would breed. Censuring and invalidating the SA resolution, even if achieved through regulation procedures, costs the University, and society more broadly, a valid and useful evaluation of the Israel-Palestine quandary, the ethical and practical clarity of which present-day fog prevents us from appreciating. A recent historical example illustrates the danger and detriment of paying this price.

Over 40 years ago, college campuses across the country were engulfed in a student rebellion advocating for sanctions against and divestment from a foreign state whose policies they deemed violated international law and the human rights, self-determination and dignity of an entire people. As global outrage against apartheid came to a head, student unions and assemblies, from Maine to California, called for universities to boycott South African government and institutions and divest from companies that did business in the country. One might be forgiven for expecting that university administrations immediately complied with a demand that in retrospect appears self-evident. In fact, student demands were stymied.

As the following examples show, instead of adhering to basic and universal principles of equality and democracy, university presidents panicked, demurred and repressed. They vilified students, persecuted activists, closed down common spaces and delayed meaningful action, much as we are seeing today. Columbia accused its students of criminal and civil violations, taking disciplinary measures against and threatening to expel activists. At Berkeley, police raided a student sit-in, arresting over 150 student activists. A few years prior, Harvard’s president opposed divestment for being “legally questionable [and] widely disputed on its merits.” Across the country, students were accused of fomenting tension and disrupting learning. From one campus to another, in sweeping escalation reminiscent of the current spread of protest — students intensified and deepened their democratic and civic engagement only to be disqualified, dismissed and criminalized by their administrators with the backing of state and national politicians.

Eventually, students — alongside allied community and church groups — stirred the conscience of university leaders. Their governing bodies finally embraced sanctions against and divestment from South Africa, helping to deliver a mortal blow to the globally reviled apartheid regime.

Imagine if universities had successfully suppressed and ignored campus activists and assemblies. Students’ principled and democratic activities would have been prevented from contributing to morally grounded debates about how to approach an agitated and oppressed society like South Africa. In short, their engagement made a valuable contribution to our common affairs. Today, lest our lofty pronouncements shrivel into empty verbiage that only serves to alienate our students, the SA resolution must be allowed to stand and generate urgently needed discussion on the destruction and carnage resulting from the conflict between Palestine and Israel.

Overturning the resolution is a price we cannot afford to pay.

This guest column was written by the following guest authors. Mary Albanese, an associate professor of English, general literature and rhetoric, Sandra Casanova-Vizcaíno, an associate professor of Spanish, Tina Chronopoulos, an associate professor of Middle Eastern and ancient Mediterranean studies, Robyn Cope, an associate professor of romance languages and literature, Carl Gelderloos, an associate professor of German, Thomas Glave, a Professor of English, general literature, and rhetoric, Gladys Jiménez-Muñoz, an associate professor of sociology, Claire Kovacs, the curator of collections and exhibitions at the BU Art Museum, Monika Mehta, an associate professor of English, general literature and rhetoric, Joshua Reno, a professor of anthropology, Kelvin Santiago Valles, a professor of sociology, and Leo Wilton, a professor of human development.

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the views of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial.