This past Wednesday, Kotlikoff announced that Kehlani’s invitation to Slope Day — arguably the most anticipated event of the school year — would be rescinded. I am not, however, surprised by the outcome of Slope Day. Now, as the school ventures aimlessly through the week after Gunna’s invitation was announced, I have quietly gathered my thoughts into — I hope — an open and comprehensive discussion.
Like many of the other guest and Sun columnists, I believe Kotlikoff has failed to maintain institutional neutrality. While Cornellians For Israel's petition calls for an “apolitical” Slope Day, dissecting Kotlikoff’s language reveals otherwise. The political instrumentation of antisemitism is evident — it consolidates ethno-nationalism amidst a genocide under the guise of discrimination. This, too, has broader implications outside the Israel-Palestine conflict, including democratic backsliding and the lack of political discourse in the United States. Put simply, students — specifically pro-Palestinian voices against genocide and crimes of apartheid across various departments — are being silenced, alienated and othered. Kotlikoff fails to realize that his “apolitical” decision is anything but. Like others have stated, there is an underlying hypocrisy to this executive decision, including a history of shared dissent against Cheyfitz'' AIISP course.
In private conversations with students and faculty, I have repeatedly heard that Kotlikoff’s main concern is safety. However, I see this as a faulty attempt to conceal what Frantz Fanon calls “atmospheric violence” in Wretched of the Earth – the psychological, structural, cultural oppression and strategic erasure of pro-Palestine voices. Cornell’s administration is actively policing bodies by forcing colonized subjects to accept their fate — as Fanon demonstrated in his chapter, “On Violence.” This includes citing antisemitism to justify the rescission of Kehalni’s invitation, the surveillance and deportation of Momodou Taal, and the arrests of pro-Palestinian students who criticized and protested against the state of Israel. Resistance is rebranded as disruption, violence and hate speech because it challenges the status quo. Despite Kotlikoff’s New York Times op-ed promising a future of civil discourse (including discussions of decolonization and Israel's crimes against humanity), Fanon’s atmospheric violence prevails.
As a student who majors in Near Eastern Studies, I understand Zionism to be a political ideology, not a fundamental pillar of Jewish identity. Given that there is a Jewish Voice for Peace chapter on our campus and the American Jewish Committee explains that being anti-Israel/anti-Zionist is not antisemitic, I’d imagine that this discussion entails political analysis. What, then, can be said by faculty in political theory classes that discuss Palestinian indigeneity under the American Indian and Indigenous Studies Program? Why is antisemitism being used as a scapegoat to silence valid critiques against the state of Israel in classes relevant to the conflict? Why is it that anti-Israel sentiment is being used by the Trump administration to silence academic institutions such as Columbia and Cornell, and why is it connected to the rise of extreme right-wing parties in both Israel and the United States?
In my previous article, I expressed that Cornell’s compliance to the Trump administration’s rhetoric against pro-Palestinian voices would cause a wave of militarization in our education. Rescinding Kehlani’s invitation to Slope Day, however, is only the tip of the iceberg. Like I said, our education and free speech are at risk — without criticism and dissent, only an undemocratic status quo remains. And that, President Kotlikoff, is anything but apolitical.
To say that a music festival is an apolitical celebration demonstrates that Kotlikoff knows nothing about politics. The very land this institution is built upon is part of a larger colonial system that stripped away lands from Indigenous nations, the occupation of Willard Straight Hall was a result of the university’s racism, and the 1993 Latino takeover of Day Hall happened in response to vandalism. Everything about this university, including Slope Day artists and music as a medium of expression, has real political connotations. Nothing can be apolitical.
To President Kotlikoff, perhaps it’s time you educate yourself on what the politics of being apolitical means. There is no shame in informing yourself on the complex nuances of politics; however, there is shame in hypocrisy and proliferation of one-sided narratives without proper consultation of the various academic resources on our campus. You want discourse, you want Ann Coulter or the Ku Klux Klan on campus because everyone deserves free speech, but suddenly being anti-genocide is too much? This is inherently anti-American — a “true patriot” would allow for healthy discourse on campus, whether people disagree or not. We — Black, Muslim, and Latino students — engage in the same conversations, expressing discomfort when you bring anti-Muslim, anti-Black and anti-Latino speakers, yet our disturbances are considered riots and disturbances. So I ask again: what, exactly, is the standard? And why does it seem to change when we speak?
