Isn’t it Ironic?

This contribution is cross-posted with the Völkerrechtsblog. The entire symposium will be published on the Völkerrechtsblog, with Verfassungsblog cross-posting three selected contributions.

When a group of (early-career) scholars decides to organize a symposium on the alarming global restrictions of academic freedom – set against the backdrop of the “unfolding Genocide“ in Gaza and the egregious violations of core international law norms against the Palestinian people – it would surely be naïve to expect no backlash. After all, in our Call for Contributions (hereinafter “CfC”), we outlined a series of measures aiming to silence critical (academic) voices speaking up against the grave human rights violations and the illegality of Israel’s military actions and presence in the occupied Palestinian territories (“oPt”). Against this silencing – and the deafening silence of some – the project was born out of a deep conviction that we really, truly need to talk. That conviction has not diminished; if anything, it has grown louder and more urgent in light of our experiences since the publication of the CfC in March 2025.

The strategies pursued by different groups aiming to prevent the publication of this symposium do not only speak to the necessity to provide space to talk about the situation in Palestine but also to a general misconception of the role of academics and academic debate. One recent manifestation of such a blatant misapprehension is reflected in the attempt of advocacy groups to push the Freie Universität Berlin to (again) cancel a workshop with Francesca Albanese, UN Special Rapporteur for the Occupied Palestinian Territories, and Eyal Weizmann, the Founder of Forensic Architecture, on “Forensic and Counter- Forensic Approaches to Reconstructing International Law – Cartography and Anatomy of Genocide”, courageously organised and curated by the Interest Group on International Law and Technology as a pre-conference workshop to the annual conference of the European Society of International Law.

Since we do believe in the power of sharing personal experiences and in solidarity, we decided to share ours through this symposium as they highlight the different shapes and forms that silencing attempts and chilling effects can take, as well as the salience of solidarity in academia. They further unearth the hidden costs associated with pursuing publication projects that resist topical normalization and try instead to re-open space for important – yet often uncomfortable – conversations in a highly polarized political environment. At the same time, these experiences contribute to a wider discussion about the systemic difficulties that public academic funding institutions, such as the German Research Foundation (Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft, hereinafter “DFG”) are facing when silencing campaigns exploit a misconstrued notion of Germany’s “Staatsräson” and rely on false allegations of antisemitism and deliberate detorsions of academic work.

The Irony of “Academic Profiling”

Shortly after the publication of the CfC, we were informed by concerned colleagues about a blogpost published by the so-called “Israel Academia Monitor” (“IAM”). On its website, this organization presents itself as supporting “the universal tradition of academic freedom that is an indispensable characteristic of higher education in Israel.” As the website further states, the organisation is also concerned by the activities of a small group of academics – sometimes described as revisionist historians or post-Zionists, among other labels – who go beyond the “free search for truth and its free exposition […] that is the hallmark of academic freedom”. According to the organisation, “[e]xploiting the prestige (and security) of their positions, such individuals often propound unsubstantiated and, frequently, demonstrably false arguments that defame Israel and call into question its right to existence”.

In what proved to be a threefold betrayal of their proclaimed mission, the IAM published the blogpost, “Pro-Palestinians Take Over German Academic Blog of International Law”, in which it provided what could be described as “academic profiling”, i.e. a brief mug-shot-like introduction of the three of us as authors of the CfC, as well as a vaguely articulated and unsubstantiated criticism of the quality of our scholarship and a warning about the potential implications of funding the Völkerrechtsblog, due to our engagement therein. Inferring from one CfC that there is something akin to a “take-over” is already bold, considering the number and range of topics discussed and projects realized on Völkerrechtsblog (see only recently here, here and here). Yet, such an allegation would also require more in-depth engagement with the CfC itself, which brings us to our next point.

Upon noting who “the people behind the Völkerrechtsblog symposium are” (and upon emphasising Khaled’s Palestinian origin), the organisation’s blog reiterated some parts of our CfC ad verbatim. It further marked as worth noting that “the organizers adopted the critical, neo-Marxist paradigm” and recalled that the organization “often discusses the critical, neo-Marxist scholarship […], lack[ing] […] academic rigor”, without however raising any specific points of criticism about the CfC. Delegitimising academics “as biased” due to their Palestinian origin or “as lacking academic rigor”, due to their engagement with critical perspectives clearly exhibits a complete lack of understanding for academic work by the self-proclaimed “Israel Academia (!) Monitor”. The insinuation is that, as a Palestinian, one is not supposed to speak on this subject, since one’s voice is presumed to be disqualified by “emotional involvement”. This disqualification operates precisely through membership in the socially constructed category of “the Palestinian”, which – much like other racialized identities – is produced externally through processes of domination. Thus, Palestinian scholars are racialized as “biased”, “irrational”, or “too emotional” through the very practices that silence and delegitimize their voices in academic and political discourse. This gesture is emblematic of what Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak has termed epistemic violence: the silencing of marginalized voices by construing their knowledge as illegitimate or irrational. It simultaneously delegitimizes the speaker and discredits the very possibility of Palestinian scholarly authority. In Miranda Fricker’s terms, this constitutes a form of testimonial injustice, where credibility is unjustly withheld because of who the speaker is rather than the substance of what is said. The effect is to erase the line between lived experience and intellectual contribution, treating the former as a contaminant rather than, as scholars like Linda Tuhiwai Smith have argued, a vital resource for critical inquiry and decolonial knowledge production.

Such an approach undermines the very premise of academic engagement, which – far from demanding agreement – depends on rigorous confrontation with different premises, arguments, and conclusions in order to test and refine one’s own thinking. The IAM’s response to our CfC did not even attempt substantive critique or engagement according to academic standards. Instead, it relied on unsubstantiated assertions and ad hominem insinuations, functioning less as scholarly commentary than as a deliberate strategy of delegitimization. This raises the question of what truly puts the “A” in IAM? It is surely not the monitoring of academic work, but the monitoring and targeting of academics.

Furthermore, the IAM provided a link of the names of the Völkerrechtsblog’s partners and sponsors. Upon consulting Wikipedia, it stated additional institutions supporting the blog and collaborating with it. Ultimately, the IAM blogpost argued that “since October 7, 2023, Palestinian academics have been emboldened to criticize the Western democracies in which they reside”, disregarding the continuous work of Palestinian and non-Palestinian academics criticising Israel’s wrongful acts in the region throughout the past decades. The blogpost concluded stressing that “IAM has repeatedly pointed out that the academy is the main platform for disseminating the Palestinian narrative on the global stage and bashing Israel”, warning that “[t]he German sponsors and partners of Völkerrechtsblog should be vigilant”. The target was clear. This time, the attack was not directed at us as individual academics, but at restricting our freedom as a predominantly volunteer project by questioning if supporting us was legitimate at all. Soon, we learned that such a strategy should prove attractive to others as well, offering a convenient tool to those who disagree with our positions and see silencing as easier than engaging in debate.

The Irony of Denigration

In early June, we were informed by the DFG that an advocacy group submitted a complaint in the form of a draft press statement to the Federal Ministry of Research, Technology and Space (hereinafter “BMFTR”) and the DFG, accusing the Völkerrechtsblog of promoting anti-semitism and hatred of Israel. It further called the DFG to seek “a noticeable reorientation of the blog” or to subject the blog’s funding to a renewed and comprehensive review so that “the publication of antisemitic or antizionist content is not financed by public funds”. We share the full text of the allegations here in German but redacted the authors of the draft press statement because we do not want them to become a target of some misunderstood acts of solidarity. For reasons of transparency, however, we think there is merit in making the text available to our readers since it displays the pursued strategy.

The allegations were either based on a deliberately distorted representation of our CfC, on a willful misunderstanding of the purpose of academic debate and the specific function of a “Call for Contributions”. Further on a lack of knowledge about the regular (yet, necessarily ex post) judicial scrutiny of restrictive executive measures by the administrative courts (with the abbreviation “FFK” ringing familiar for every German-trained legal professional) and/or on elusive “guilty by association”-type accusations that betray ignorance of the difference between authorship and scholarship. Therefore, we see little that requires substantive rebuttal. Given the space restrains of this contribution, and since both, the accusations of the advocacy group, as well as our CfC are now available online for our readers to consult directly, we will refrain from detailed debunking of each individual accusation. However, we welcome questions and a conversation on specific allegations at any time. In this contribution, we will turn to examine in more depth the details and, indeed, the irony of the advocacy group’s strategy: in its eagerness to discredit and silence, it ends up proving our very point about the mechanisms of distortion and suppression that threaten academic freedom today.

The complaint of the advocacy group, framed as a “press statement”, thus already adopting a “threatening gesture” of being ready to “go public”, concluded by declaring that they “have no expectations of those responsible for the symposium and other problematic articles and statements due to their clearly expressed attitudes”. Instead, the association called the DFG to subject the DFG funding that the Völkerrechtsblog has secured to review so that “the publication of anti-Semitic and anti-Zionist content is not financed by public funds”. It further reminded the professors listed as the blog’s sponsors on our website that “Jewish and Israeli students should also have the right to move around the universities without fear and without being forced to hide their own identity”. Accordingly, they called on the DFG to “either aim for a noticeable realignment of the blog or reconsider the funding”. They also expressed their shock that “not a single member of the [blog’s] ‘Scientific Advisory Board’ […] took offense at such an anti-Israeli thrust of the blog.” The way the advocacy group drafted its “press statement” suggests that it considered all options exhausted and expressed frustration not only with Völkerrechtsblog but also with the Scientific Advisory Board, which supports the blog by conducting peer reviews, thereby ensuring the high quality and adherence to the standards of good scientific practices of all of our publications.

Yet, crucially, the advocacy group had never contacted – nor attempted to contact – Völkerrechtsblog itself, Prof. Riegner or Prof. Thielbörger (our cooperation partners in the DFG-funded project: “Expansion of the Project ‘Völkerrechtsblog’ into an Open-Science-Hub”), or any members of our Scientific Advisory Board before sending the draft press statement to the BMFTR and the DFG. This reinforces the impression of a profound misunderstanding on the part of the advocacy group of what academia and Völkerrechtsblog as an academic blog (no quotation marks required) is about, and what the right to academic freedom under the German Constitution protects. Völkerrechtsblog has long established robust procedures to ensure the academic quality of its publications, a fact transparently set out on our website. The advocacy group’s conduct therefore does not reflect a willingness to engage in dialogue or contest ideas and arguments, but rather a deliberate attempt to delegitimize alternative voices and erase them from academic discourse altogether.

It further speaks volumes about their intentions to target us “through the backdoor” that we have not been contacted since mid-July, even after the DFG sent its response to the advocacy group making it clear that we are open to discussing concerns they may have about the CfC and the symposium, provided that our academic freedom is not jeopardized. There is a bitter irony involved in an advocacy group claiming to represent students demonstrating such ignorance for academic freedom. By invoking the language of protection while working to suppress it, they risk hollowing out the very principle they claim to defend. At the same time, this serves a significant reminder for every one of us that our curricula must embed a robust understanding of academic freedom – not only as an abstract right but as a lived safeguard of open, plural, and critical scholarship. That we do not only have to teach students about law but also on what grounds academic work is conducted and why it is important to protect it, especially in cases where there may be political polarization. The level of misunderstanding (and at times deliberate misconstruction) of the purpose and intricacies of academic work and discourse was only recently displayed in the failed elections of judges for the Federal Constitutional Court.

The Irony of Receiving Public Funding

The second important detail we would like to highlight is the role of the DFG as a public funding institution. Public funding in academia has proven to be more and more a mixed blessing, especially when liberal democracies, such as the United States become more and more polarized. On the one hand, it is intended to ensure high quality and independence of research from capitalist logics; on the other hand, precisely because resources remain public, they sit in closer proximity to political agenda, and in the German case, to the notion of “Staatsräson”. Until now the DFG has taken a strong stance in affirming that their funding will be awarded exclusively on the basis of academic excellence – even after the German Parliament passed a non-binding resolution embracing the IHRA definition for antisemitism and discussions about integrating them in funding guidelines gained more traction. Notably, the DFG has not asked us to change either the substantive orientation of the blog, the organization of this symposium, or our internal workflow. Their support for the project was, in fact, recently reaffirmed in the face of yet another round of (anonymous) allegations directed against us. We cannot stress how important that is.

At the same time, these developments call for critical scrutiny. The very debate about whether political definitions, such as the IHRA, should guide funding criteria demonstrates the fragility of the line between quality-based assessment and political litmus tests. Conflating academic excellence with conformity to political consensus risks instrumentalizing funding decisions in ways that undermine the independence they are meant to protect. Once funding is perceived as contingent on alignment with contested political resolutions – rather than on scholarly rigor and innovation – the space for plural, critical, and dissenting research narrows. The danger is that public funding, designed to shield research from private or partisan influence, becomes a tool for enforcing political orthodoxy, thereby chilling academic freedom instead of safeguarding it. These dangers do not only arise in theory; they also manifest in more subtle, practical ways. Even where an institution such as the DFG reaffirms its commitment to academic excellence as the sole funding criterion, the handling of politically motivated allegations can produce indirect pressures that risk chilling effects.

Despite the DFG’s explicit assurances, closing the gateway to over-restrictions and paternalism and protecting the autonomy of universities and academic freedom, we learned in the context of the advocacy group’s allegation against us that chilling can occur in more subtle forms. That is by agenda setting and vague communication. When the DFG asked us for a meeting, they highlighted that apart from wanting to discuss the allegations, which we understand and think is reasonable, their goal was to arrive at binding solutions that rule out any violations of the law as far as possible. Without talking to us first they seemed to have already decided that it would be necessary to reach “binding solutions.” While this may just have been an unfortunate choice of wording, it put us into an unwarranted defensive position. From their e-mail it remained unclear what stance they would ultimately take. This uncertainty was compounded by the fact that, in the same e-mail and again without awaiting the outcome of our meeting, the DFG requested to be removed from our website as a “partner” – a designation that had been in place for five years – and to be named only as a “funding institution.” While we readily complied, the gesture conveyed a sense of distancing on the part of the DFG before the matter had even been clarified. Such anticipatory distancing, even if intended as a precautionary step, risks contributing to chilling effects. Scholars, especially early-career scholars, may internalize signals of such caution and may begin to self-censor or self-silence, shying away from projects that deserve to be pursued with the full measure of academic rigor, particularly in a politically polarized atmosphere.

Here, Hannah Arendt’s reflections on oppression provide a useful lens. Arendt warned that oppression rarely begins with overt prohibitions, but with more subtle signals that instil fear, encourage conformity, and erode the willingness to speak and act freely. It is precisely this anticipatory obedience, i.e., the internalization of expected boundaries before they are formally imposed, that corrodes public spaces of freedom. Seen through this lens, the DFG’s request may not have been intended as censorship, but its effect risks aligning with what Arendt described as the gradual narrowing of the space for free action and speech. To stand firm in protecting academic freedom, the DFG could send a strong signal by establishing a robust internal procedure that sets out how to respond to such allegations in a transparent, consistent, and principled manner.

Self-censorship and self-silencing are not just hypothetical, but real and growing. As editors at Völkerrechtsblog we can attest having received an alarming number of requests for the retraction of academic publications critical of certain states’s conduct, as well as requests for the removal of academics’ names from our website due to their fear of being denied visas or entry to certain countries, where they had previously decided to continue their academic careers. Under such constant threats to academic freedom, survival instincts would almost inevitably push scholars toward self-censorship than toward speaking openly about restrictions on academic freedom.

This brings us to another layer of the sad irony of the whole matter.

The Irony of Silence

When subjected to such (often personal) allegations, scholars are deliberately singled out as targets. This is an uncomfortable position to be placed in. It is a situation in which one quickly learns who is willing to share that discomfort in solidarity, and who is either unwilling or unequipped to do so. Colleagues, whether more senior academics or institutional hosts, tend to pursue two main strategies to maintain a safe distance from the particularly unsavoury allegation of antisemitism. The first strategy, contrary to our usual commitment to intra- and interdisciplinarity, is a sudden retreat into a narrowly defined expertise. Statements such as “I am not an expert on this, and therefore I do not want to get involved” are increasingly common. Yet this posture sits in stark contrast to the inexhaustible intellectual curiosity that normally drives academic work, where questions outside one’s own immediate area of expertise are treated as opportunities for dialogue and shared inquiry, not as boundaries of silence.

The second strategy bears an uncomfortable resemblance to victim-shaming. Confronted with the harsh and dense allegations voiced by the advocacy group, yet unable (or unwilling) to dedicate the necessary (time) resources to verify them, some colleagues instead sought to discipline us – always with the best of intentions, of course. There have been, admittedly, only a handful of such cases, but they are nonetheless telling. Among them were curious demands that we distance ourselves from Hamas (as if we had ever endorsed it), requests to alter the framing or remove specific sentences in the CfC, accusations that we had been “too political” or “not balanced enough” in our choice of language, and insinuations of a lack of reflexivity on our part. This pattern raises difficult questions. Might such reactions be connected to the fact that we are early-career researchers – and, on top of that, two women and a BIPoC? Would the outcome, and the degree of solidarity shown, have been different if we were already more established, male and white? Would it then appear more plausible that the CfC was indeed the outcome of a lengthy process of collective reflexivity trying to strike precisely the right balance.

It is difficult to shake the impression that trust and credibility are not distributed equally: some voices are automatically granted the benefit of the doubt and the luxury of the most favourable interpretation possible, while others are burdened with suspicion, forced to prove legitimacy (or worse, preach to some elusive idea of neutrality) before they can even be heard. Allegations, in such a climate, do not merely challenge arguments, they also expose those who make them to unequal scrutiny, amplifying vulnerabilities rather than fostering open debate. These dynamics are reinforced by structural imbalances in academia. Senior scholars often enjoy the security of tenure, reputational capital, and institutional backing, which make it easier for them to weather controversy. Early-career researchers, by contrast, depend on precarious contracts, recommendations, and institutional goodwill, factors that can make solidarity more fragile and silence more tempting. The result is a double bind: those who are most vulnerable in academic hierarchies are also the ones most exposed to reputational attacks, and thus more easily disciplined into silence. While those who are (arguably) more powerful seem to have given into an elusive sense of defeat, telling us that we should not overestimate their (or our own) individual power and sometimes even ridiculing our efforts for collective action as illusive.

We find both strategies not only ironic but, in a way, cynical, because both rest on the illusion that there is a “safe place” to occupy or to retreat to, a vantage point shielded from attacks on academic freedom. Such a place does not exist. Defending academic freedom is the collective responsibility of all academics. Some, because of the discipline they work in or because their research touches on politicized issues, may be relatively more exposed or more vulnerable than others at a given moment. For others, strategies of self-censorship may seem to work better, perhaps because of their background or bodily features, which make them less immediate or obvious targets. But who can say what will become the next focus of scrutiny, or whose scholarship will be placed under suspicion in the future? And how can we reconcile the DFG’s general principles set out in the “Guidelines for safeguarding good research practice – Code of Conduct“ with practices of self-censorship? After all, they require all of us to remain committed to “permitting and promoting critical discourse within the research community.” (p.9). To remain silent now may appear to be a pragmatic interim solution, but, in reality, it undermines the very conditions that make academic freedom possible in the first place. Silence, in this sense, risks becoming a form of complicity because every instance in which repression goes unchallenged makes it easier for the next restriction to be imposed. Defending academic freedom has become political, and precisely because of this, solidarity is what we need. Silence cannot be our strategy; only collective resistance and mutual support can preserve the space for critical inquiry and safeguard the future of academic debate.

The Significance of Academic Solidarity

For us, the solidarity we received from the vast majority of colleagues played a significant role. In this context, we felt a heartwarming support from the “Alliance for Critical Scholarship in Solidarity“ (“Krisol”) and are deeply grateful for their guidance in navigating the matter. Having extensive experience in managing the support for academics targeted by silencing campaigns in the past, they shared with us their knowledge and encouraged us to create a strong academic network that could support and protect us against such attacks.

Indeed, although we are early career scholars, we have the privilege of having worked within Völkerrechtsblog for quite some time, which has allowed us to build a strong network reflected also in our Scientific Advisory Board. Moreover, our colleagues at the Verfassungsblog, alarmed about the allegations raised against us and the potential impact that such attempts can have on academic freedom and knowledge production more generally, shared our concerns and organised an academic solidarity campaign to support us. Through a letter signed by numerous German and international senior in only 24 hours and shared with the DFG, the Verfassungsblog urged the DFG to not comply with the demands of the advocacy group and to uphold our academic freedom, while clarifying that they would do everything they can to ensure that the symposium will take place as planned, in case the Völkerrechtsblog was prevented from holding it. Through this profound academic solidarity, we were able to stay vocal, to stand strong against (self-)censorship and to continue working on the symposium that is more topical than ever.

Where does this leave us? We hope that other colleagues facing similar struggles with silencing attempts will be provided with alternatives to self-censorship and that the academic community will surround them with individual and institutional support. We also hope that these dark times for academic development will soon be over, although we are sober enough to recognize that with the rise of political polarization, populism, and the popularization of quick accusations over careful debate, these struggles will likely remain with us. Until then, we express our solidarity to scholars who have been targeted because they take up space in the narrow academic room for critical perspectives and who speak up to address inconvenient truths. We share the view that academics who are lucky enough to have acquired expertise in certain matters, have an obligation to problematise and to share with the broader public aspects that may not always be easy for them to consider, understand or to question by themselves. And we deem the Völkerrechtsblog a safe space for academic rigor, where this can be done and as a space where the academic responsibility to protect academic freedom is fulfilled.

At the same time, these recent experiences have shown us that academic freedom, just like any other fundamental right or liberty, is more fragile than ever. This fragility underscores the urgent need to rethink the role and structure of universities, academic institutes, and public funding systems. We must develop stronger mechanisms that shield these spaces from political repression and ideological conformity. Of course, this work begins at the individual level, with acts of solidarity. But more broadly, it requires a structural shift, moving beyond traditional frameworks toward institutional models capable of withstanding the pressures of a polarized world and safeguarding critical inquiry for the future.