I am graduating and, somehow, my school, the University of British Columbia, feels more isolating than ever. This campus prides itself on the ideas of critical thinking and open dialogue. But, right now, it feels like neither is being practised. Instead, I see a culture where misinformation about Israel and the Jewish people spreads easily, where hateful slogans replace dialogue and where Jewish students are intimidated and harassed for expressing their Zionism and connection to Israel as an integral part of their Jewish identity. More than that, it feels like expressing these views comes with a social cost – one that many students quietly calculate before deciding whether it is even worth speaking at all.
I’m a Jewish student at UBC. And I’m done pretending this is normal.
Universities are supposed to be spaces where ideas are tested, challenged and debated openly. My four years at UBC have shown me that certain perspectives are treated as inherently unacceptable before the conversation even begins. If freedom means anything, it must include viewpoints that fall outside dominant campus narratives, including Zionist perspectives.
The role of campus groups and student politics cannot be ignored. UBC Staff for Palestine and the way BDS (boycott, divestment and sanction from Israel) is promoted within spaces like the Alma Mater Society elections are not just frustrating. They reflect a campus environment where hateful and discriminatory movements and campaigns are tolerated and normalized.
While BDS is framed as a progressive, justice-oriented movement, it seeks to end Israel’s existence and strip away Jewish rights to self-determination. If BDS were to achieve its political goals, Israeli Jews would either be killed, ethnically cleansed or forced to live as an oppressed minority. According to an official BDS handbook, campus divestment is merely a “stepping-stone” to larger-scale boycotts and other measures aimed at ending Israel’s existence. This hateful and destructive movement is experienced by most Jewish students as contributing to an environment that marginalizes and endangers the campus community.
At its core, this is where the disconnect becomes impossible to ignore. A movement presented as advancing human rights dismisses the legitimacy of a Jewish homeland altogether. When that position becomes the norm on campus without any serious scrutiny, it is not political activism but the legitimization of hate and exclusion.
It is also worth asking why this issue dominates student political spaces in the first place. In a world full of ongoing conflicts and humanitarian crises, Israel is consistently singled out in student government discourse with false and misleading accusations. It does not feel like a coincidence or a legitimate concern for human rights, but rather a pattern of disproportionate focus that shapes how we are perceived and treated on this campus.
These narratives often leave no room for nuance. There is no space to acknowledge complexity, no willingness to engage with perspectives that don’t fit a predetermined frame, and no recognition that calling for the dismantling of a Jewish homeland has real implications for Jewish students on this campus. BDS, for instance, actively tries to shut down Israeli-Palestinian cooperation and dialogue.
You cannot claim to advocate for justice while erasing the legitimacy of other people’s existence. And yet, that contradiction is increasingly accepted here at UBC.
Students like me are excluded from conversations that directly affect them. Discussions about our own homeland often unfold without any Zionist Jewish perspective present. And, many of us are hesitant to speak up, not because we lack arguments, but because we know how quickly disagreement is shut down or mischaracterized.
And there is one final point that cannot be ignored.
The rhetoric and imagery that have surfaced within anti-Israel activism on this campus go far beyond political critique and cross into something far more disturbing. Slogans, symbols and messaging that frame violence as “resistance” or elevate martyrdom are not abstract ideas. For Jewish students, they are not theoretical – they are deeply personal, and they create a real and growing sense of fear for our safety on campus.
When violence is normalized or even implicitly justified, it sends a message about whose lives are seen as expendable. That is not activism. That is not justice. And it has no place at a university that claims to value safety, inclusion and critical thought. UBC cannot continue to ignore this.
What kind of campus we are willing to accept? One where certain students feel unsafe, unheard and pushed to the margins, or one where difficult conversations happen without crossing the line into dehumanization? Right now, we are closer to the former.
A university should not act as an ideological gatekeeper. Its role is not to decide which perspectives are acceptable, but to ensure that all students can participate in good faith without fear of exclusion or intimidation.
UBC, it’s time to wake up.
Avigail Feldman is a fourth-year student at the University of British Columbia, completing a bachelor’s in political science, and set to begin a master of management. She is also a StandWithUs Canada Emerson Fellow.