March 13 was a watershed day in the annals of American higher education and the history of America’s commitment to freedom and limited government. On that day, the Trump administration issued an edict telling Columbia University, a private institution, how to function.
The people who founded the American republic must be turning over in their graves.
Such a bold assertion of government power would be more familiar to people in many other nations. But in the United States, this is a shocking development and a warning of what is in store, not just for higher education, but for the entire country.
What is happening at Columbia is an initial test of the Trump administration’s ambition to curb institutional autonomy, limit and punish dissent, and make life miserable for anyone who does not toe their line. That’s why each of us, whether or not we work in higher education, has a stake in Columbia University’s fate.
Let’s face it: Universities are what people in the Departments of Defense or Homeland Security might call “soft targets.” Soft targets are easily accessible, relatively unprotected and therefore vulnerable to attack.
A concerted, decades-long campaign against higher education by conservative critics, combined with excesses in universities’ quests to make themselves more inclusive and just, have eroded public support for and trust in America’s colleges and universities, which are now at historic lows.
Public disdain for private, prestigious institutions like Columbia is high and growing. Critics call them snobbish, arrogant and out of touch.
Some have even laid the blame for the rise of the MAGA movement on their doorstep.
Like the successful, decades-long right-wing campaign to take over the courts in this country, which has wreaked havoc in the lives of ordinary Americans, the campaign against Columbia will, if similarly successful, prove costly well beyond that New York City campus.
What is unfolding there is a testing ground for efforts in other sectors of American life.
Acting in a high-handed and arbitrary manner in its dealings with Columbia paves the way for the government to carry out similar abuses of power elsewhere. Attacking academic freedom is a stalking horse for attacking freedom of speech and other freedoms.
It is important to recall that Trump’s campaign against Columbia didn’t start on March 13. It began earlier with the cancellation of $400 million in federal grants and contracts and the move by Immigration and Customs Enforcement to arrest and detain Mahmoud Khalil, a green card holder and recent graduate who helped lead pro-Palestinian protests on campus.
But the March 13 letter took it to new levels.
The first thing to note about that letter was that it came from officials in the Departments of Education and Health and Human Services and the General Services Administration. They joined not only in asserting their right to intervene at Columbia under Titles VI and VII of the 1964 Civil Rights Act but to remind the university of the Trump administration’s power to cripple it financially.
Title VI prohibits discrimination on the basis of race, color or national origin in programs and activities receiving federal financial assistance. Title VII makes it unlawful for employers to discriminate based on race, color, religion, sex or national origin.
Since the act’s passage, it has been clear that alleged violators of Title VI must be afforded due process before federal funds can be withheld. That guarantees fairness and impartiality in investigations and ensures that enforcement actions will not be precipitous.
The March 13 letter, with its demand for “immediate next steps that we regard as a precondition for formal negotiations regarding Columbia University’s continued financial relationship with the United States government,” is a chilling reminder of what happens when a government seeks to wield its formidable power without respecting the due process rights of those it targets.
And if it gets away with practicing what one commentator calls “regulation by intimidation” at Columbia, the administration will be emboldened to do more of the same, and not just in higher education.
The March 13 letter touches on matters colleges and universities routinely determine for themselves. For example, it demands that the university complete disciplinary proceedings against students who were involved in taking over a campus building last year and who participated in encampments in support of Palestinians. And it specifies that penalties of “expulsion or multi-year suspension” should be imposed.
The same day it received the Trump administration’s letter, the university announced that it was expelling or suspending some students involved in the Hamilton Hall takeover and temporarily revoking the diplomas of other students who had since graduated.
In addition, the March 13 letter directs Columbia to “Abolish the University Judicial Board (UJB) and … empower the Office of the President to suspend or expel students.”
The intrusiveness of the letter extends to telling Columbia that it must ban the wearing of masks on campus and “formalize, adopt, and promulgate a definition of antisemitism” (it specifically cites the definition used in Trump’s Executive Order 13899). It even demands that Columbia’s Department of Middle East, South Asian and African Studies be put into “academic receivership” so that its faculty can no longer make hiring and curriculum decisions.
That is the administration’s way of forcing the university to punish the department, some of whose faculty supported the encampment movement. Receivership means someone from outside the department would be appointed to make decisions for its faculty. It is a rarely used and nuclear response to departmental dysfunction.
If Columbia were to do what the March 13 letter asks, it would be waving the white flag of surrender to any pretense that it will respect and protect academic freedom, the most prized and essential aspect of teaching and research in higher education. That would send a powerful and chilling signal about the administration’s ability to ensure freedom means the freedom to say and do what it prescribes.
Taken together, the provisions in the March 13 letter amount to an effort to put the entire university into a kind of receivership. Beyond the world of higher education, receivership involves a court appointing “an independent ‘receiver’ or trustee to manage all aspects of a troubled company’s business. The company’s principals remain in place, but they have little authority over the company for the duration of the receivership.”
The March 13 letter signals that intention when it calls for the development of a plan of “long-term structural reforms that will return Columbia to its original mission of innovative research and academic excellence.”
“Innovation” and “excellence” are the watchwords for colleges and universities, businesses, artistic enterprises and individuals seeking to lead a free life. But since the founding of the republic, this country has been guided by the belief that the government would not be in the business of saying what could count as innovative and excellent in private life.
If Americans stay on the sidelines as the current administration tries to bring Columbia to its knees, we will not only be damaging higher education, we will also be turning the founders’ vision of the relationship between the government and the people on its head.
Austin Sarat is the William Nelson Cromwell Professor of Jurisprudence and Political Science at Amherst College.