Universities cannot examine themselves on Jew hatred
In a few weeks, first-year students will begin their university studies, while others return to Australian campuses. For Jewish students and for their parents the question is immediate and unavoidable: what kind of campus are they walking into?
Will it be more of the same? Encampments that single out Israel and Zionism as uniquely illegitimate. Posters and slogans that frame Zionism as a crime. Lectures and tutorials, online and in person, where Israel is labelled genocidal and Jewish identity is treated as something to be interrogated rather than respected. These are not isolated incidents. They reflect institutional double standards.
These questions now carry additional weight. With the announcement of a Royal Commission into antisemitism and social cohesion, universities will inevitably come under scrutiny for their policies, complaints processes, staff conduct, and training frameworks. That scrutiny is overdue. But it will only be meaningful if it is genuinely independent.
And that is where the problem lies.
A Royal Commission cannot credibly be advised on antisemitism in universities by bodies that are themselves embedded within the university sector, particularly when those bodies explicitly treat Zionism as an open or contested question.
In January, the Australian Jewish News reported that the Monash Initiative for Rapid Research into Antisemitism (MIRRA) is positioning itself as a key source of evidence and guidance into the Royal Commission. Its project lead, Professor David Slucki, described MIRRA as “the most comprehensive research program looking into antisemitism in Australian society.”
That claim requires careful scrutiny.
Only weeks earlier, the same academic set out his position in a Guardian opinion piece, arguing that:
“But ‘Zionism’ is also a contested label: for many Jews it signifies safety, continuity and belonging; for Palestinians – and for many others – it denotes dispossession and ongoing domination. It’s clear that for different people, the word Zionism means very different things, which leads to people talking past one another – with real-world consequences.
There is no consensus though on what that self-determination ought to look like, and Zionism has always encompassed a spectrum of meanings.
Because Zionism carries multiple and often conflicting interpretations, recognizing this diversity is essential to fostering informed dialogue, empathy and intellectual honesty.”
But on Australian university campuses, Jew hatred is not theoretical.
Jewish students are not encountering abstract discussions about Zionism; they are being targeted through it. When Jewish self-determination is treated as debatable rather than foundational, anti-Zionism is easily reframed as legitimate critique rather than recognized as discrimination. This outcome is not accidental. It is the predictable result of a framework that treats a core component of Jewish identity as unsettled.
Zionism is the belief that the Jewish people have the right to live as a people in their own country, where they govern themselves and determine their own future. It is not a political party, a government, or a set of policies.
Yet on university campuses, Jewish self-determination is increasingly positioned as an open-ended academic debate.
And this is precisely why university-embedded initiatives cannot advise a Royal Commission on antisemitism in universities. A body that begins from the premise that Zionism is conceptually indeterminate cannot then be asked to assess discrimination that overwhelmingly presents through hostility to Zionism.
The dominant form of Jew-hatred on campus today is not the antisemitism universities learned to recognize decades ago. It is not primarily expressed through racial caricatures or conspiracies. It is expressed through anti-Zionism: the denial of Jewish peoplehood and the rejection of the Jewish right to national self-determination.
On campus, this is now routine. Israel is treated as uniquely illegitimate among the world’s nations. Zionism is framed as inherently racist or criminal. Jewish students are pressured to denounce Israel to be accepted, or told that their discomfort is irrelevant because the discussion is merely “political.” When they object, they are accused of attempting to shut down debate.
The issue, then, is not that universities are confused or incapable. It is that the frameworks being elevated to define Jew hatred actively exclude the form Jewish students are actually experiencing.
When advisory bodies embedded within universities, staffed by academics who explicitly treat Zionism as contested, are positioned as authorities, the outcome is difficult to avoid. Jew hatred that presents as anti-Zionism is explained away before it is even examined.
This is why independence is not optional.
Any credible examination of antisemitism in universities must be conducted by people with no institutional stake in defending university culture, no professional incentive to preserve academic abstractions, and no commitment to redefining Jewish identity as a matter of debate.
Universities do not need reassurance. They need external scrutiny.
So what must happen?
First, Jew hatred must be recognized as it is actually experienced on campus, with anti-Zionism understood as its dominant contemporary form.
Second, the Royal Commission must seek evidence from genuinely independent experts, not from university-embedded initiatives that are, in effect, being asked to examine themselves.
Third, Jewish students and staff must be heard directly, without their testimony being filtered through frameworks that relativize or neutralize the harm.
As a new cohort of students begins university life, this issue can no longer be deferred. Will Jewish identity continue to be treated as an academic proposition to be debated, or will anti-Zionism, the contemporary form of Jew hatred, finally be addressed as a real, lived form of discrimination?
The answer will determine whether Jewish university students are protected or once again left to fend for themselves.
