In the latest installment of a now-familiar congressional ritual, House Republicans turned their attention to three major universities—Georgetown University, the University of California, Berkeley, and the City University of New York—asking their leaders to answer for what they found to be a permissive, even complicit, approach to antisemitism on campus.
The hearing, hosted by the House Committee on Education and the Workforce, played out with an air of predictability: outrage, sharp splits in partisanship, and moments of political theater. Standing before a deeply divided Congress were university leaders, asked to confront the difficult issue of condemning antisemitism whilst simultaneously defending campus free speech.
Inaction, Tolerance, and Risk
Committee Chair Rep. Tim Walberg (R-MI) depicted the GOP position. “Universities can choose to hire antisemitic faculty, welcome students with a history of antisemitism, accept certain foreign funding, and let the behavior of antisemitic unions go unchecked,” Walberg said. “But they do so at their own risk.”
The implication was clear. To Republicans, colleges have become safe havens for anti-Jewish rhetoric, cloaked in the language of academic freedom. They painted a picture of institutions where protest became hate, where administrators had failed to draw any moral lines, and where antisemitism had both flourished and gone unpunished.
In one of the hearing’s most heated exchanges, Rep. Elise Stefanik (R-NY) grilled City University of New York (CUNY) Chancellor Dr. Félix Matos Rodríguez over a law professor’s past work defending Palestinian activist Mahmoud Khalil. Specifically, Stefanik asked whether a faculty member who defended a controversial protester should remain employed? Though Stefanik expected a yes or no answer, Rodríguez did not oblige. Instead, he reaffirmed CUNY’s stance: antisemitism has no place at the institution, and any violation of university rules would be investigated. But he would not cross into political purging.
Free Speech In a Complex America
On the other side of the aisle, Democrats argued the entire premise of the hearing was skewed. “Republicans continue to use the Education and Workforce hearing room as a kangaroo court,” Rep. Mark Takano (D-CA) said, claiming that Republicans are weaponizing Jewish pain to wage broader culture wars. He pointed to the dismantling of the Department of Education’s civil rights division—ironically, the body tasked with addressing antisemitism—as evidence of bad faith.
For university leaders, the stakes were higher than mere reputational damage. They stood at the complex intersection of free expression and accountability, attempting to preserve one without sacrificing the other. UC Berkeley Chancellor Dr. Rich Lyons made that tension plain. He argued that if somebody is expressing pro-Palestinian beliefs, it is not necessarily antisemitic.
His point—obvious to many academics but deeply controversial in Congress—demonstrated that a broader conflict is occurring. Specifically, the question becomes: Where is the line between protest and prejudice? And who gets to decide?
Georgetown’s Tightrope
Interim Georgetown University President Richard Groves went about discussing the issue from a different angle, emphasizing the school’s Jesuit values and tradition of interfaith dialogue. He emphasized the fact that the school has hosted individuals like Israel Defense Forces
(IDF) soldiers, families of Israelis and Palestinians who’ve lost their lives, and U.S. families of hostages still held in Gaza.
Georgetown had avoided the kind of explosive encampments seen elsewhere since Hamas’s October 7 attacks. But that didn’t mean it was immune from tension. Neither did it mean it was immune from criticism. Groves acknowledged that rules around student behavior had needed “clarifying” in the months since. He highlighted that although Georgetown is not perfect, it is continually committed to exposing students to multiple perspectives.
Is This Déjà Vu?
This week’s hearing was the ninth in a months-long series probing antisemitism in higher education. The first few hearings had sent waves of shock through academia. Back in 2023, poorly handled testimonies from the presidents of Harvard University and the University of Pennsylvania—both of whom refused to categorically state that calling for the genocide of Jews violated campus policy—ultimately led to their resignations.
Since then, the hearings have taken on a more aggressive sort of tone, with Republican lawmakers now combining allegations of antisemitism with concerns over ideological bias, foreign influence, and faculty hiring. Thus, the language has grown sharper. The implications have grown more dire. And the partisan gap has grown more visible.
Protests Inside and Outside the Hearing
Even the hearing room itself couldn’t escape the pressure of the moment. Protesters interrupted the proceedings multiple times, shouting pro-Palestinian slogans before being escorted out by Capitol police. The disruptions were brief, but also telling. The conflict playing out in committee chambers seemed to be a mirrored reflection of the country at large.
If this hearing revealed anything, it’s that college campuses have become proxies for America’s unresolved moral and political battles. Republicans want universities to draw a hard line. Democrats accuse those Republicans of turning a nuanced issue into a blunt instrument of political war. And the universities themselves? They're caught in the middle, trying to protect speech while avoiding empowering hatred.
These hearings are no longer simply about what happens in universities. Instead, they extend further, to who gets to define antisemitism, protest, justice, and, ultimately, who gets to be heard.