What happened on US college campuses on October 8, 2023, recast the way the world's most prestigious universities are perceived. The Ivy Leagues – which attract gifted students from around the world to compete for coveted spots in their most sought-after programs – lost some of their luster in the face of violent, hate-fueled demonstrations, and hard questions began to arise for those who had dreamed of walking the iconic corridors of the schools they knew from the movies, as well as for those already enrolled.
Jewish and Israeli philanthropists began withdrawing their generous donations as a form of protest, seeking to impose real consequences on universities that had become breeding grounds for the anti-Israel narrative. Yet against this backdrop, four young Israelis argue that the real answer isn't withdrawal – it's representation. Tzur Goldin, Ron Kalef, Avi Eisen, and Lev Berman – fellows in the Idan & Batia Ofer Graduate Fellowship for master's studies at the John F. Kennedy School of Government – are bringing the Israeli voice all the way to the prestigious Massachusetts campus, insisting this is not the time "to give up the seat at the table."
"The field belongs to other players"
"I was surprised by how much ignorance there was," Avi Eisen, who had served as a Jewish Agency emissary for about two years before arriving at the Kennedy School, said. He recalled speaking at a prominent university where a violent protest broke out, and the group needed a security escort. "As we spoke, we were interrupted, and behind us sat many people wearing keffiyehs, masks, their hands painted in red paint. But what I remember most is the sheer number of Jewish students who didn't dare to speak up in front of their friends – and that was the moment I decided I wanted to try to apply to these schools, because I understood how important it is." Stressing the importance of Israeli presence on US campuses, he said, "The officers who escorted us out – who aren't even Jewish and have nothing to do with the event – said, 'Thank God the university is also bringing other voices.' That's when I understood that it's not about hasbara – it's about presence. When there are proud Israelis who aren't ashamed of their identity, who speak openly about the good and the bad, that makes an outsized difference that simply doesn't exist there day to day."
According to Ron Kalef, the Kennedy School carries particular strategic importance in this context, unlike other Harvard schools. "These are people who come from around the world in the middle of their careers, some already in positions of influence. Sometimes it's quite literally 'I'm launching a campaign the moment I finish the academic year,' 'I'm going to run for parliament in my country,' or for the presidency. When we talk about our presence as Israelis on campus, it's critical in terms of impact," he stressed.
In a refreshing contrast to the stubbornness that characterizes many anti-Israel protesters, genuine room for dialogue exists here. "I have hundreds of examples of people who came up to me and said, 'I don't know enough about Israel, and I need to know,'" Ron added. "Every week, right up until we finished now, I had conversations with people. I would dedicate several hours each week just so that people would truly have an opportunity to experience a perspective on Israel that doesn't come through the media, but through our own eyes."
To achieve this, Kalef explained, every chance encounter must be treated as a potential conversation on the subject. "We see it every day, whether it's the demonstrations, what's happening on social media, or initiatives being led by other countries. Because the Kennedy School is a very politically aware place, these things immediately find their way into every cafeteria conversation and every class, and if there's no Israeli present in those arenas – and an arena can be a lunch – the field belongs to other players."
"They want us there"
The fellowship covers tuition funding for students from across Israeli society who have leadership experience and a track record of civic engagement, and who wish to acquire the tools to become leaders in Israeli society upon completing the program. Naturally, the four fellows initiated meetings and informational lectures to reflect the Israeli reality – one that is also mirrored in their own personal stories.
Tzur Goldin's presence on campus at this particular moment could not have been more significant. For the Goldin family – whose grief had become a national grief – the Iron Swords war brought closure after a decade-long struggle. Lt. Hadar Goldin, an IDF officer kidnapped and killed by Hamas during Operation Protective Edge in 2014, was finally returned to Israel for burial. "The reality was tough," Tzur said of the atmosphere on campus. Reflecting on the hostile environment, he added, "You're in an environment where the narrative has already been written in advance. Years of time, energy, and talent have gone into building this narrative, and the only way to deal with that is to invest time, energy, and talent in return. There is a certain hostility, but there is also a sizable population that thirsts for information – the way forward is to represent ourselves authentically, without apologizing."
"We had events where ambassadors spoke about diplomatic processes in Israel vis-à-vis the world," he said, adding, "My research focused on hostage-taking terrorism, intending to advance policy both within the US administration and in Israel." He also shared his personal story, saying, "After Hadar came home, I saw it as a victory – Israel had succeeded in bringing all its hostages home." The event, according to Ron, had a significant impact on those who attended. "From the responses I received, there is a great deal of value in these meetings. Usually, we treat talking about the Israeli experience as hasbara, so nobody wants to listen. But the year or two we're here allows us to build genuine trust with people who don't necessarily want that at first," he explained.
An equally important spotlight falls on the people who actively want an Israeli presence on campus. "Professors, faculty – they want us there," Eisen stressed. "The entire school relies on its human capital, and professors really build on classroom discussion to teach. If the Israeli voice isn't in the room, it simply goes unheard. We're not talking about ivory tower academics – these are people who have influenced governments around the world, from Venezuela to the United States, senior officials at every level of government."
A door to change
Even so, they emphasized that despite the dialogue, this is work whose fruits can only be harvested over the long term. "The hardest challenge was dealing with the disappointment," Tzur said. "You take action, and don't get applause. I think this will be our best training as people who will later go on to the public stage and the diplomatic arena facing the world, because that's why we're here – to face the difficulty."
Lev Berman underscored the program's broader significance. "There is a great need for an Israeli presence," he said. "It's very important for strengthening and connecting the Jewish community, and for those who don't know enough – and want to know. I think the Kennedy School is a microcosm of the larger world, and we need to be present here and build a connection. What most people think about Israel is the product of an emotionally engineered worldview built around identification with our wars or our situations. In our strategy, we noted that we're not trying to do hasbara, but rather to shift or reshape perceptions at the personal level. It's an individual challenge and puzzle – but once you bring a person to a place where they ask questions, that's a door to change. The process is gradual – the first time they're willing to say 'hello,' the second time they're already willing to ask a question, the third time they're willing to open their heart, and I think that's exactly what we did here."
