President Jonathan Levin, do not sign the Loyalty Oath.

My field is the history of ancient mathematics, which has existed in America since Otto Neugebauer’s arrival in this country. Neugebauer taught at the mathematics department at the University of Göttingen — the leading institution of his time. He was already widely appreciated for his contributions by 1933, when the Nazis came to power. He was not Jewish, but he would not sign the Loyalty Oath. He gave up the most valuable lectureship in the world for his field, instead relying on temporary positions outside of Germany until finding safe harbor at Brown University.

A modern government is a massive beast. Everyone, sooner or later, bumps up against it. The government would fund an initiative – inevitably, scholars would rush to produce research related to this new source of funding. The government would enact its myriad laws – administrators would circulate emails (which nobody would read) detailing limits on what is allowed and not allowed on campus grounds. This, too, would have consequences for research and education. The government, by virtue of its overarching power, inevitably would affect a university’s core functions. 

And so, as the government gets involved in our business, we do not necessarily need to be alarmed. Some degree of involvement is natural, as long as the government is not motivated by the desire to impose its ideas. When does it become necessary to resist the government influencing what we teach and research? The moment it becomes clear the government wants to. This moment is now. 

The government now assumes, in an apparent lie, the appearance of normalcy. It acts as if it merely enacts the law as it always did. Title VI of the Civil Rights Law is the crack in the door through which the government now inserts itself into our universities and – most galling of all – the government cloaks itself in the noble guise of fighting antisemitism. To be clear:  I believe that calls for dismantling the state of Israel, both explicit or implicit, are a form of hate. Whichever way we wish to classify such calls within the long and variegated history of antisemitism, universities should handle this specific form of hateful speech the way they treat hate’s other forms. And while the fight against antisemitism is now tainted by the hypocrisy of those who picked it up as their blunt instrument against higher education, it is not simply a fight we can give up. 

And yet, the government’s professed interest in fighting antisemitism is evidently pretextual. We are faced with a lie, and we should respond by telling the evident truth. Those now in government wish to coerce universities according to their will for two reasons. First, they want to change how we study subjects like race and gender, equality and the environment. In this sense, the goal is to coerce academia. Second, they subscribe to a worldview tinted by conspiracy and hate, where we, academics, deliberately set out to corrupt the nation. This hate is directed towards anyone who stays true to their beliefs. In this sense, they seek not to reform us, but to ruin us. I’m Jewish; I know hate when I see it.

It is appropriate that we should each hold different beliefs concerning gender,  race, equality or the environment. Indeed, if we in academia erred, it’s in that we did not have enough internal debates concerning such issues. But let’s be clear: does the current government wish to encourage intellectual debates? Don’t make me laugh. The current government seeks not to foster debate, but to impose its own positions. Now, then, is the time to resist it.

Shockingly, when faced with this choice, Columbia University, just now, chose not to resist and instead, so to speak, to sign the Loyalty Oath. 

The power of the government is enormous, and resisting is costly. Neugebauer had to give up his position. He did end up in Brown but he was, at the time, adrift, risking the end of his career. He gave up his Göttingen position nonetheless. If we resist, now, the cost we pay will be smaller. These are not exactly the Nazis, yet, nor are we as heroic as Neugebauer – nor, yet, as cowardly as the majority of his colleagues. But the principle stands: a government, wishing to superimpose its views, must be resisted. Indeed, all the more reason to resist now rather than later. We were willing to pay a cost to flatten the curve of Covid-19. Now is the time to flatten the curve of fascism.

Universities must spell out this commitment to a core principle: whatever the costs, they will not submit to a government that tells them what to teach. I write in the language of defiance. This is a florid essay; these times do not call for level-headedness. I recognize the discrepancy between my stance and the style of a university administration and do not expect you, President Levin, to cut and paste this letter and send it to President Donald Trump. But I am sure that most of my colleagues share my sense of urgency. We will read your communications with an eye to that sense. We want to see how you react to those who try to  tell us what to teach. We want to remain proud of Stanford, and we want the world to think of Stanford with admiration. I have been impressed with the university’s approach over the last couple of years and encouraged by the most recent statement signed by you and Provost Jenny Martinez. Neugebauer would have approved of your conclusion, recalling our motto: “Die Luft der Freiheit weht.” It was such winds of freedom that brought scholars such as Neugebauer to American universities and, indeed, laid the foundation of their greatness through the twentieth century. This is the legacy we must preserve. President Levin, do not sign the Loyalty Oath.

Reviel Netz is the Suppes Professor in Greek Mathematics and Astronomy. He is a Professor of Classics and by courtesy of Philosophy.