Not really surprising that a school “branded as “a different kind of law school focused on equity and inclusion” would find itself in this mess. Kind of fitting for a university that changed its name from Ryerson to TMU, because of overly simplistic interpretations of history, activist pressure, and hurt to some students and groups, finds itself underlining its blind spot regarding anti-Jewish attitudes and anti-semitism.
Words matter, as advocates and activists rightly maintain. But now many of the activist law students are discovering this in a real personal sense with real consequences. A teaching moment:
…Public reaction was vicious. On social media, signatories were mocked and insulted in posts featuring their LinkedIn profiles, with photos of their faces. The Jewish advocacy group B’nai Brith put out a press release, calling on the school to “expel terrorist apologist students.” Some members of the legal community advocated for blacklisting all TMU students from the profession.
“I certainly wouldn’t hire any of these students,” one Toronto lawyer posted on X, “and the fact that some choose to ‘show’ their solidarity by keeping their names hidden means I’d have to write off hiring anyone from … the current crop at @LincAlexLawTMU.”
Under intense pressure from all sides, the institution waded in. What school leaders did would only further fan the flames.
The law school issued a statement that “unequivocally” condemned the “sentiments of Antisemitism and intolerance” the petition expressed, but made no mention of any possible action to address the conduct of signatories. That fell short in the eyes of two Jewish criminal defence lawyers. They penned a letter urging the school to impose consequences to “illustrate in no uncertain terms that hate speech and incitements to violence are utterly unacceptable.”
One of several non-Jewish signatories was former Ontario Court of Appeal Justice Harry LaForme, who is an Anishinabe from the Mississaugas of the New Credit First Nation. LaForme read the aspiring lawyers’ petition as a justification for what happened on Oct. 7, which, he said, disregards the rule of law, and is “completely anathema to Indigenous Peoples.”
LaForme hoped the school would create a safe space internally for signatories to distance themselves from the petition. “They (the students) have to be able to change their minds,” he said.
‘New McCarthyism’ decried by lawyers
In November, TMU hired a retired judge to conduct an external review. Former Chief Justice of Nova Scotia J. Michael MacDonald will meet signatories this month to determine whether their words breached the student code of conduct, which sets expectations for how students interact and communicate.
The school’s decision to outsource the job stoked acrimony, both from those who had been pushing administrators to quickly confront what seemed to them to be clear policy violations, as well as those who believed students were now being subjected to a witch hunt.
“A new McCarthyism” is how the response to the student petition was characterized in an open letter, signed by hundreds of members of the legal community, including Sealy-Harrington, Gadea Hawkins and other TMU professors.
Dania Majid, a Palestinian activist and head of the Arab Canadian Lawyers Association, signed that open letter. Majid, who faced intense Islamophobia as a young lawyer in the aftermath of 9/11, said the school’s characterization of the petition as antisemitic is “textbook anti-Palestinian racism.”
Majid said the students are being treated “as criminals.”
The fallout also highlighted divisions within the Jewish community, including at TMU. Shiri Pasternak, an assistant professor in criminology, is part of a group of Jewish instructors who don’t believe the petition was antisemitic and are concerned about the implications of the external review on academic freedom on campus.
“We didn’t necessarily all endorse the letter that the law students wrote,” Pasternak said. “But … we strongly believe that students should have a right to express, even imperfectly, their sense of injustice, and raise their collective voices to intervene when they see injustices.”
A campus turned tense
On campus, the atmosphere turned tense, students say. For the rest of the term, fewer classmates showed up for lectures; when they did, people who used to intermingle seemed to be sitting apart. Sam and Taylor said they felt ostracized by some of their peers, and uncomfortable coming to class.
One law school instructor, who is Jewish, moved her classes online after reading the petition. In a complaint to the university, she alleged the petition violated school policies, and had caused her to “worry for my physical safety as a result of my faith.”
Some of the law school’s roughly 450 students were upset by the timing of the petition, which dropped the week before on-campus interviews for placements at law firms.
At least one Bay Street firm asked TMU students whether they signed the petition, and refused to grant interviews to those who did. Ontario’s Ministry of the Attorney General also required law students working for the province to sign an attestation confirming they weren’t among the signatories, according to a memo from the deputy minister.
Noah Lister-Stevens, a second-year student who participated in interviews that week, was “disappointed” with his classmates for not better contemplating how their words would land. But he said the response of some law firms that seemed to be waging “a scorched-earth campaign,” was “disturbing.”
“None of the students in my school that I’ve ever spoken to are hateful people,” he said. “Everyone that I know who signed that letter is a kind person who deserves to be in that school.”
Sealy-Harrington shared with the Star several statements that he said had been provided to him by anonymous signatories. The statements accuse the administration of defaming the signatories by wrongly characterizing their petition as antisemitic, and of ignoring their pleas for help as they endured Islamophobia and racism from students, staff and the public.
“Nobody condemned the people calling us terrorists, or telling us to die, or describing in extreme detail the vile ways they would harm us or our families,” one statement said. “The school, named for an incredible justice-seeking Black man, acts only when white students complain, not when people of colour are tormented.”
The law school was renamed in 2021 for Lincoln Alexander, who was a lawyer and champion of racial equity. As Ontario’s lieutenant governor, he became the first Black Canadian to serve as a representative of the British monarchy in Canada.
A TMU spokesperson said “we respectfully disagree” with the claims of the signatories.
Administrators and staff have had nearly 200 meetings with students “to listen to their concerns and help them navigate the many available supports,” Karen Benner said in an email. “The university and law school categorically condemn any and all discrimination and harassment directed at our students and faculty, and have taken steps to address them.”
Donors cancel TMU law school scholarships
But the administration’s conversations with donors have been strained.
Criminal defence lawyer Brian Greenspan suspended a $50,000 scholarship. Greenspan said in a letter to the law school’s dean and the TMU president that the school’s namesake would be “appalled” by the petition.
The failure of administrators to categorically denounce the petitioners, Greenspan said, is “a derogation of the responsibility of those who support a civil society and a blemish on the legacy of Lincoln Alexander,” who believed in finding common ground.
The pulling of funding is an inappropriate response, according to Jim Turk, who is the director of TMU’s Centre for Free Expression, and says it takes away opportunities from future students.
Source: Inside the crisis at TMU’s law school: It started with a letter of support for Palestinians. Now students and staff feel betrayed and donors are pulling out
Multicultural Meanderings 