I Study at CMES. The Leadership Change Is a Good First Step.

For my family, Harvard was the American dream — proof that education could break cycles of struggle and open doors to a better future. My mom, a high school teacher, and my dad, a blue-collar worker, saw my acceptance as proof that anything was possible.

In August 2023, I began my master’s at the Center for Middle Eastern Studies. There, I hoped to study modern Israel and Jewish communities and history in the broader context of the Middle East. I thought that Harvard would be a place where I could wrestle with complexity, ask hard questions, and engage with scholars who welcomed nuance.

Then, October 7th happened. Almost overnight, my place at Harvard, at CMES — and in academia itself — felt uncertain.

The change in CMES leadership is an opportunity — not for suppression, but for renewal. It is a chance to create an academic environment that fosters healthy pluralism, where disagreement is not only allowed, but expected, respected, and praised.

Most CMES events failed to foster open debate, instead becoming one-sided advocacy platforms with strong anti-Israel bias, teetering on ideological indoctrination. Out of the more than 10 CMES-hosted public events on Israel-Palestine this academic year, none seemed to center pro-Israel perspectives.

Events since October 7th have included topics such as “Colonizing Palestine: The Zionist Left and the Making of the Palestinian Nakba,” and “Apartheid: A Quest for Conceptual Clarity,” to name a couple. While these events can certainly fit within a balanced academic framework, the neglect of mainstream Jewish or Israeli voices can hardly be seen as anything but intentional omission — actions antithetical to legitimate academic discourse.

In addition to these center-sponsored events, I was required by CMES instructors to attend a “teach-in” where speakers made statements that sounded to me like justification for the October 7th attacks. I felt discouraged by CMES faculty from exploring my intellectual interests on many occasions, whether it be applying for research grants or when crafting my thesis.

For example, of the courses I expressed interest in about Israel and Judaism, I was informed that CMES would not count these courses toward my degree. Recently, a member of CMES faculty suggested that I omit a chapter of my thesis on Palestinian refugees. This comes after several professors declined to advise prior thesis proposals, forcing me to abandon topics I was interested in. After I mentioned I knew Hebrew, I experienced bullying from classmates.

Harvard, once a symbol of intellectual rigor and diversity, failed me. Instead of fostering dialogue, the University allowed antisemitism to masquerade as activism and ideological gatekeeping to replace academic freedom.

What I expected to be an open-minded environment became a place where my identity and academic interests suddenly made me feel isolated. Protests disrupted classes, political arguments overtook lectures, and posters of Israeli hostages were torn down and repeatedly defaced. Students adopted symbols and rhetoric that went beyond showing solidarity with Palestinians, in some instances chanting threatening slogans such as “there is only one solution: intifada revolution.” In the collective Jewish consciousness, “intifada” brings back horrific memories of suicide bombers targeting innocent Israelis — a romanticized “revolution” that murders innocents, targets Israelis and too often extends to Jews in general.

A “Gaza solidarity encampment” overwhelmed Harvard Yard, an explicitly antisemitic cartoon was reposted by professors, and an Israeli student claimed she was asked by a professor to leave the class because her presence made others uncomfortable. At a vigil for Israeli hostages — including a baby and toddler who had been brutally murdered — passersby shouted at us even as we stood in solemn mourning.

I stayed silent for months, afraid of jeopardizing my grades, social life, and future. But with graduation on the horizon, I can’t stay silent anymore.

The recent announcement that senior leadership at the CMES was dismissed has reignited debate on campus. Their departure follows months of controversy over the center’s direction and credibility. In response, many of my fellow CMES graduate students drafted a public statement condemning the administration’s decision.

These changes are not “attacks on academic freedom,” as it’s being framed, but an opportunity to restore balance to a program. Honest, critical scholarship on the Middle East should welcome dissent, not punish it. The classroom should be a space where complexity is embraced, not suppressed; where competing narratives are examined, not silenced.

Some spaces on campus have provided successful examples of probing debates and honest academic inquiry, such as Harvard Kennedy School’s Middle East Dialogues, sponsored by the Middle East Initiative. Hopefully CMES can follow in their footsteps.

Studying the Middle East at Harvard during this war forced me to rethink everything: my academic path, my career goals, even my belief in the American dream. I once imagined a future in academia or journalism, but I’ve come to realize those spaces are often inaccessible to people like me because of ideological gatekeeping.

My parents believed that curiosity and hard work could open any door. Harvard tested that belief but it didn’t destroy it. I’m still here, speaking, and determined to build a world where no student, Jewish or otherwise, ever feels they must hide their identity or intellectual interests while pursuing higher education.

Danielle L. Greco is a graduate student at the Center for Middle Eastern Studies.