A question to the silent academics: How did we get to this?

On July 15th 2025 in the salubrious English town of Canterbury grave acts of terror were unfolding. Local woman, Laura Murton held aloft a sign that read: ‘Free Gaza’ much to the chagrin of the local Kent constabulary, two of whom rushed to the scene of the crime. Ms Murton was quickly warned that if she didn’t take down her sign, lower her flag, her actions could be misconstrued as supporting a proscribed ‘terrorist organisation’. 

How did we get to this?   

Many of us will be familiar with the powerful poem by German Lutheran pastor Martin Niemöller, a man of conscience whose famous prose chastised those who stood silent in the face of unspeakable atrocities being committed against the Jewish population of Europe during the Holocaust. 

‘First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out because I wasn’t a socialist… etc., etc., etc.’

Niemöller’s intervention makes it clear that, for those who opt for silence, when the harm comes to reach your own doorstep, it will be too late to find your voice. 

Penned in the aftermath of the second World War when Europe was coming to terms with the realities of defeating fascism, at a time when, amidst the revelation of unspeakable crimes, so many were asking – ‘how did it come to this?’ –  the significance of Niemöller’s words in the present day cannot be understated. 

Against the backdrop of the UK government’s crackdown on free speech and the widespread assault on a whole host of civil liberties that so many took for granted, the ‘until it is too late’ moment to which Niemöller refers, is now. 

During the last 21 months of utter devastation, it is the silence of so many including many of our colleagues in the academy, that has been utterly deafening. 

From the outset, those of us committed to seeing a liberated Palestine and an end to the Genocide in Gaza implored colleagues and friends to find whatever voice they could muster, to use every platform they had, to speak loudly and determinedly, for the time to do so had long since reached tipping point. 

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We asked politely, we screamed loudly, we marched on the streets, we occupied buildings, we disrupted meetings, we held teach-ins, we organised encampments, we did online interviews, we spoke on the media, we used every platform and every opportunity we had. We warned of hypothetical harms in the future, borrowing from the words of the Manic Street Preachers, and said ‘if you tolerate this, then your children will be next’. 

And yet so many remained silent… ‘First they came for the… etc., etc., etc…’

When the Israeli army massacred over 500 civilians, including patients and medical staff in the Al Ahli Hospital, we screamed louder still. We said (foolishly) that surely this is the moment that those in the academy, those who teach international law, political science or who profess to be engaged in ‘Peace Studies’, those who up until now won’t engage, won’t sign a letter, won’t stand with us, those who continue to hide behind their liberal refrain of ‘it’s all so complicated’; surely this was the moment when they would speak up and out. 

So many did not.   

When their fellow academics were assassinated, including the late Refaat Alareer – targeted for having the bullish bravery to call out the hasbara we were being fed on a daily basis – we asked if now was the time they would be able to find their voice of conscience. When we witnessed all 12 of Gaza’s universities being reduced to rubble, library books turned to ash and students scrambling to finish their studies under the barrage of bombs paid for and provided by governments of the West, we thought, surely the silent educators will speak up. 

So many did not. 

When Hind Rajab’s last moments were relayed on every platform over and over again, when the bullet holes in the car where she spent those last terrifying hours of her short life were revealed to the world’s media via courageous Palestinian citizen journalists, we again asked the very same people to speak, sign, teach – to share the burden as an ally of humanity, as a colleague, and as someone who has a platform to influence and share their educated views. 

When the oxygen slowly drained from lifesaving glass boxes designed to protect premature infants born into a horrible world of suffering, leaving them to all die, we thought, surely this is the moment when people scream, collectively, enough is enough. 

Silence.

Time and time again, massacre after massacre, tipping point after tipping point, nothing appeared sufficiently despicable that would bring along those who had the capacity and responsibility to speak up. 

And so, in returning to the question… how is it that we have got to the stage whereby standing with a Palestinian flag in a posh English town in Kent, calling for an end to Genocide, is tantamount to endorsing terrorism? 

READ: UN says more than 737,000 newly displaced in Gaza since March amid Israeli strikes

The answer is that we got here because so many in the academy whose role and responsibility as an academic is to hold the government to account, to critique public policy, and to provide checks and balances, opted for silence as opposed to speaking out.

The vacuum created by their cowardice and, I would suggest gross negligence, has been filled by the most flagrant abuse of power and brazen assault on all of our collective civil liberties. 

And of course, for so many, these attacks and defamations, the accusations and experiences of being labelled a ‘terrorist’ will be nothing new. Our sisters and brothers in the Muslim community, people of colour and those who have long felt the strong arm of British policing and judicial bias, will see the attacks on civil liberties pertaining to protest for Palestine as par for the course. 

They have long experienced the violence of the weaponised ‘Terrorism Act’. They have known the scourge of constant surveillance, they have mourned their community members who have been harassed, smeared, incarcerated and killed. 

They could well be forgiven for calling out the crocodile tears of many in the white middle class who now cry ‘foul’ but who never once spoke up at an anti-racism rally, or stood side by side when the scourge of islamophobia continued to wreak havoc. More power to them for choosing not to. 

And so, as the silencing – the chill effect many of us warned about – comes crashing down on the front doors of all of us working in the academy (and beyond) I wonder will those who thought silence was a wise course of action, reflect on the long-term impact of their self-censorship? 

How will any legal academic, peace studies scholar, political scientist or those teaching international relations, ever truly be able to reconcile the fact that the work they can only ever do in the future, is work that safely aligns with the values of the government of the day? 

Are these silent types aware that their failure to speak has, in effect, provided a smokescreen and a veneer of respectability for a state that stands accused of aiding and abetting war crimes, crimes against humanity, including the worst of all – a Genocide?

Returning to the sentiment of Niemöller’s poetic intervention, even if they now choose to find their voice as the attacks on their own civil liberties become ever more apparent, it is too late 

So, in answering, how did we get to this? We got to this because so many chose silence and self-preservation as opposed to standing together and shouldering collective responsibility to do all they can, within their power, to speak up and out against a Genocide. 

I hope the people of Palestine will forgive them.  I for sure, will not.

OPINION: So many in the academy will say, ‘We were with you all along…‘

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.