SOAS: A Zionist in Enemy Territory

The School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London (SOAS) has an interesting association with both traditional establishment institutions and radical political activism. Foreign Office staff, diplomats and members of the intelligence community have graced its halls. Since the post-colonial era, SOAS has also been an intellectual hub for Marxist thought and Arab nationalism. These two disparate groups would seem like an odd coupling, but somehow they coexist rather harmoniously in this academic and social setting.

Back in the day, when I read law at SOAS, the campus was drunk on the pervasive promotion of Palestine. Riding on its coattails, the anti-war movement against Iraq also loomed large. It wasn’t as if this facilitated an environment for spirited debate. There was an irrebuttable presumption that Zionism was a diabolical ideology and that Israel was therefore an illegitimate state, born in sin. It was an intimidating atmosphere for those who secretly held contrary views.

I was a young whippersnapper bent on transforming this enemy outpost, much as Saint Patrick probably felt when he set sail to convert the Irish heathens. The student union office was ground zero for my evangelism. Curious, hostile, friendly, funny and interesting Palestinian and Arab students would congregate around me, directing their inquisitions and suppositions towards my precious pink ears. Soon enough, I became a fixture there. Usually, discussions took on a polemical tone, but occasionally there were moments of levity, as well as touching occasions when a genuine human connection was made. I fondly remember a Palestinian student telling me that I had a good heart despite our disputations. I also benefited from being introduced to a host of authors and ideas. Edward Said stood out, and in subsequent years his book Out of Place brought some comfort to my own identity issues.

My clandestine efforts to resurrect a Jewish Society that endorsed Zionism were really beyond the pale for this Mecca of Palestinian activism. But they had little choice but to approve the paperwork, as it was a publicly-funded institution. I collaborated with a much older graduate student to get things rolling. Thanks to his established contacts, experience and New York swagger, we were able to organise a host of interesting guest speakers and events. Memorable figures included a Jewish member of Thatcher’s Cabinet and a high-ranking diplomat from the Israeli Embassy. The degree of animus and commotion surrounding this latter event was unprecedented. A saboteur triggered the building’s fire alarm, and the glass front doors were smashed. In anticipation of controversy and the suppression of free speech, the government’s Equality Czar, Trevor Phillips, made an impassioned speech concerning antisemitism, democracy and the rule of law. That memorable evening, on the steps of SOAS, I got into a fierce debate with an Egyptian student that almost descended into a physical altercation. He later became a senior correspondent with Al Jazeera.

All my involvement with the cause took its toll on my university experience. Apart from becoming alienated from a fair chunk of the student body, my studies also suffered as a result of the time and emotional energy invested in these activities. My own initiative went largely unrecognised, as I was overshadowed by the well-connected mature graduate student with whom I had collaborated. A welcome departure from all this was the Hanukkah party I organised, which was sheer joy. I booked a DJ originally from Tel Aviv, and Jews and Arabs danced and got shikker together on red wine, if I remember correctly.

Perhaps my missionary ambitions were not entirely misplaced after all. I hadn’t succeeded in converting SOAS to Zionism, but I had managed to get a few of its inhabitants thoroughly intoxicated at a Jewish celebration. That was probably as good a result as I could have hoped for. I would have made Mel Brooks proud.