Apartheid in the Student Encampment?

A few weeks ago, a protest camp appeared in the courtyard of the Free University in Amsterdam. As a supporter of dialogue and open conversation, I decided to visit, curious to hear the perspectives of the demonstrators. It was around 9 p.m., and with some time on my hands, I approached the camp. Upon arrival, I was greeted with friendly faces and even offered a bowl of warm soup. Due to dietary restrictions (I eat only kosher), I had to politely decline. I introduced myself, explaining that I support Israel and would appreciate the chance to engage in a substantive discussion.

After a few minutes, two spokespersons approached me. They kindly informed me that after a long day of activism, they needed some quiet time for their “mental-health-hour” and suggested I return the next day during office hours to listen to their scheduled talks. The camp had a pleasant, laid-back atmosphere, and I mentioned that it might be nice to set up a pro-Israel tent alongside theirs. After all, weren’t we both fighting for global justice?

Their reaction was one of shock. A pro-Israel tent in their camp? Absolutely not. One of the spokespersons quickly clarified that their cause wasn’t about global justice but specifically about opposing the actions of Zionists. My suggestion was clearly unwelcome.

Of course, my idea of setting up a tent was merely a thought experiment. To be honest, I’ve never seen the inside of a tent. The closest I’ve come to camping is the annual assembling of the Sukkah, and even that turns out each year to be quite a challenge. But the refusal I received was telling. It exposed the stark reality: those who are quick to accuse others of apartheid seem to be creating their own “safe zones” where Zionists are not welcome. They segregate students into “good” and “bad,” “pro-genocide” and “anti-genocide,” without any room for nuance or understanding.

Let me be clear: it is entirely natural and commendable to be concerned about innocent civilian casualties in Gaza. No one should turn a blind eye to human suffering. But why, then, is there often selective outrage? Where is the attention for the 400,000 civilians killed in Syria, the million Muslims detained in Chinese re-education camps, or the 18 million people in humanitarian crisis in Myanmar?

To my readers, I ask: what can we do? Speak up—on social media, in the workplace, and in the press. We cannot afford to remain silent. Every letter, every conversation, every post matters. And let one thing be absolutely clear: Israel exists, it will continue to exist, and we will continue to stand wit it.