There’s a common misconception in Italy that ‘the Law’ states police can only enter universities with the Rector’s prior approval. In reality, this is a well-established practice rooted in respect for academic autonomy, certainly not a legal norm. This all has medieval origins, when the University was a community with its own statutes, internal courts, privileges, and even immunities. Just consider that professors and students could only be judged by ecclesiastical or internal courts, and not by city courts. It therefore seems obvious that much has changed since then. Yet on several occasions, the police remain outside universities (at least until they perceive that the irreparable is about to happen), merely asking the academic authorities (Department Director or Rector) if they’ll take “responsibility” for any potential incidents. A recent example of this happened in Turin on May 15th, where the organizers and speakers of a conference on antisemitism and the right to education were confronted, assaulted, surrounded, insulted, and beaten with spitting, kicks, punches, slaps, torn shirts, and Palestinian flagpoles used as clubs. Police? As recounted by two of the organizers, lawyer Cristina Franco and the student Pietro Balzano, it was held outside the classroom, 300 meters away (and then intervened, fortunately in a timely manner, only to prevent the worst and help the speakers — who hadn’t been able to present — leave the university). The Director of the Department of Cultures, Politics, and Society assumed responsibility, reportedly guaranteeing the peaceful nature of the demonstrators. And here, we must question at least four aspects of the issue: 1) The right to study and freedom of speech; 2) The right to protection of physical safety; 3) The concept of peaceful demonstrators, and 4) The role of academic authorities.
First of all, in our universities, at least as far as I can remember, discussing Israel has always been very difficult. Unfortunately, in recent years, even addressing topics related to the right to education (denied by recurring occupations of university buildings) or antisemitism has become problematic. And make no mistake: this is not about defending the right of the State of Israel to exist or the right of Jewish students to attend classes without receiving threats, though that too should be taken for granted. It’s not even about Israeli speakers to be boycotted in the name of a supposed right to criticize Netanyahu. The speakers were all Italian, some Jewish, others not: should that make a difference?
It was only about the right of students to speak up and demand—especially given the upcoming change in the university’s leadership—another right: to attend classes and take exams in a calm study environment, not in a political arena. This arena, under the guise of fighting alongside the Palestinian people (only those close to Hamas; I’ve never seen a demonstration supporting the Palestinian partisans fighting against Hamas), distorts these spaces and disrupts normal academic activities. Unfortunately, even wanting to propose a day of reflection on these topics became a source of clashes and misunderstandings. Many journalists reported the attacks as ‘pro-Palestinians against pro-Israelis,’ showing they didn’t understand the purpose of the event. On the other hand, how could they have? The meeting couldn’t take place, as has happened many times before, because the classrooms, which were repeatedly changed, were packed with demonstrators who had no intention of listening or allowing others to speak and be heard. It was enough to see a kippah to label the initiative: they’re Jews, they’re pro-Israelis. No one paused to reflect on the fact that, for the umpteenth time, the right to freedom of speech was denied. A right to speak which, it’s regrettable to say, in the same university, was in the past guaranteed only thanks to the police forces.
Unfortunately, the events of May 15th—as told to me by the organizers and as clearly seen in videos shared by many newspapers and various social media platforms—endangered the safety of both speakers and the interested audience. I can understand there might have been good faith on the part of the academic authorities, but if one of the protesters had pulled out a weapon, or even if a simple slap had caused someone to fall dangerously, how quickly could the police have intervened? The Department Director and the Rector took on a significant responsibility by adhering to a medieval practice that’s no longer current. The police—at least plainclothes Digos officers—should have been allowed to position themselves between the speakers and the demonstrators to ensure not only freedom of speech, but above all, physical safety. One question remains: Is the police truly obligated to respect a “ban” expressed by those whose profession is intellect, but who lack expertise in public order? My esteem for the State Police is well-known, and my gratitude is, and always will be, undying. My memories go back twenty years when it was clear that among the duties of Digos, to give just one example, was to prevent and suppress all conduct that could disturb public order and safety during public events. It’s no coincidence that the term “repress” is placed in the second position, behind “prevent.” It’s a huge mistake to think that the police only serve to use batons. Their greatest and noblest function is prevention and, consequently, the protection of people’s safety. Also in universities.
Thirdly, what distinguishes peaceful demonstrators from thugs? I live in Bremen, Germany, and I’m used to seeing demonstrations: pro-Israel, pro-Palestine, pro-Ukraine, pro-Caliphate, pro-bike paths, pro-life, pro-LGBTQ, and so on. Almost always, a counter-demonstration is also present. More often than not, it’s a square divided in half, with police officers in the middle. Everyone with their own slogans and flags (without burning others’), never with expressions of physical violence. How it’s possible to define demonstrators who spit, kick, and punch as peaceful is a mystery to me. Does it seem normal to let about twenty people (speakers and interested attendees) into a classroom already packed with over a hundred furious individuals, clearly not interested in listening respectfully, or, for that matter, raising their hands to speak at the end of the conference? This was my idea of a university: a place for discussion and exchange, a place of culture and for challenging every prejudice. A place designed to build bridges. Some claim it was just angry students because it was May 15th, the anniversary of the Naqba (meaning the Arab aggression against the newly formed State of Israel, which resulted disastrously for the Palestinians who, more than their own state, dreamed of throwing the Jews into the sea). Unfortunately, May 15th doesn’t just commemorate the Arab countries’ disastrous own goal, but also brings to mind the Ma’alot massacre. Indeed, it was May 15, 1974, when Palestinian terrorists took over 100 Israeli schoolchildren on a field trip and their teachers hostage, ultimately killing 22 children and 4 adults. Every day, in this sick world, can recall a massacre: wouldn’t that be reason enough to suppress hatred instead of feeding on it?
On May 28th and 29th, we will be called to elect the new Rector of the University of Turin: a demanding task. I wish whoever is elected to be able to carry out their duties with conscience, serenity, and justice. Above all, with courage, without forgetting—as Hannah Arendt wrote—that evil “is a challenge to thought” and “can invade and devastate the entire world, because it spreads on the surface like a fungus.” Let’s not allow it to happen again. Never again is now.