Finding our center, staying the course: A Message from FAIR ED Monica Harris

In these highly polarized times, nonpartisan organizations and institutions often face no-win situations

Photo by Sora Shimazaki

This piece was originally published in Monica’s Substack, The Bigger Picture.

Helming a nonpartisan organization isn’t easy, even in the best of times, but taking charge in one of the most highly polarized periods in history is especially daunting. It’s a reality that’s greeted me on an almost daily basis since stepping into my role as Executive Director of the Foundation Against Intolerance & Racism (FAIR) a little more than two months ago.

I’m a lawyer, an author, and TEDx speaker. I’ve always had strong opinions, and I’ve never been shy about sharing them. On October 7, I watched the carnage in Israel unfold with horror and disbelief. Forty-eight-hours after digesting and discussing these events with my family, I assumed my ED role at FAIR and was called upon to do something I was not accustomed to doing: make a statement on behalf of an entire group of people — some of whom I knew well, others whom I had only met briefly, and many of whom I did not know at all.

Yet in an instant, I was called upon to “speak” on their behalf.

I joined FAIR, and ultimately took on this role, not because I wanted to be part of this organization, but because I needed to. After wandering an ideological desert for nearly a decade, politically adrift from a party I no longer recognized and alienated from friends, family, and colleagues I had increasing difficulty connecting with, finding FAIR was like stumbling upon an oasis in a wasteland. It brought a sense of relief, safety, and hope.

I found kindred spirits. Sensible, intelligent minds who were alarmed by the growing divisiveness in our country and passionately committed to taking action. People who believe, as I do, that what we have in common is far more important than what separates us. People who embrace our shared humanity and regard it as the key to fulfilling Martin Luther King Jr.’s vision of a united and hopeful America. People who cherish the founding principles of this country, even when those principles make us uncomfortable, and believe that true equality can never be selective.

In the past ten weeks, I’ve come to appreciate the immense challenges of keeping a group of people together, even when they believe they’re on the same page and are working toward the same goals, and especially when they’re part of an organization that strives to remain above the political fray.

FAIR is dedicated to advancing civil rights and liberties for all Americans and promoting a common culture based on fairness, understanding, and humanity. This is our mission, and it’s one we can’t fulfill without honoring the law and defending those whose legal rights have been violated.

Yet fulfilling our mission also has a moral component. We often seek to advance broader moral principles that are not always guaranteed by the law. Defending the legal rights of Americans to be treated fairly in schools and workplaces is only half the challenge; trying to change hearts and minds to encourage people to embrace our common humanity, above and beyond the law, is a far bigger one. This is the unspoken duty of many nonpartisan organizations: the careful and thoughtful balancing of legal rights against moral considerations. This is the tightrope we walk.

As a nonpartisan organization, FAIR faces an additional challenge: we don’t have the luxury of taking “sides” — and make no mistake, choosing a “side” in the current climate is the easiest decision and the most simple of solutions. Resisting the call of tribalism requires a strength of mind and heart that’s often difficult to muster, and my staff and Board of Directors struggle with these issues in our attempt to balance legal and moral considerations.

In the aftermath of October 7, we endured criticism from some supporters when we did not immediately issue a statement regarding the brutal attacks by Hamas. We received vitriolic emails when we’ve given voice to those who support Palestinian liberation. We’ve spent the past two months carefully curating our Substack submissions and Weekly Roundup with painstaking diligence and meticulous detail, always bracing for the inevitable blowback. It shouldn’t be this way in an organization dedicated to engaging thoughts all along the ideological perspective, but it is. Because these are the times we find ourselves in.

Recently, we have wrestled with FAIR’s “position” on the scope the First Amendment and the limits on freedom of expression, particularly as they relate to protest on college and university campuses. Free speech now stands as one of the most politically charged issues in our country. Supporting the rights of students to advocate for Palestinian freedom can, in certain circumstances, be perceived as a threat to the safety of their Jewish peers; restricting the rights of students to advocate for Palestinian freedom can, in certain circumstances, be perceived as a threat to freedom of speech that is vital to the protection of all citizens in a democratic society.

Like the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, FAIR has held fast in its belief that while the First Amendment protects hate speech, it provides no protection for speech that incites violence. Unfortunately, the line between hate speech and hate speech that incites violence is often thin, indeed, and attempts to make this distinction invariably invite criticism and judgment.

FAIR is not alone in facing this dilemma. While colleges and universities are institutions, not organizations, they, too, are intended to function in a nonpartisan capacity and must weigh legal and moral considerations. Yet these schools are unique environments, and the challenges they face vividly highlight the difficulties of this balancing act and why nonpartisan organizations and institutions must not rely solely on the law in navigating America’s existential crisis.

Unlike people who live and work in a mixture of public and private spaces, institutions of higher learning are responsible for students who find themselves in a confined environment with limited power to filter their exposure to others in that space. There is often little opportunity to “escape” and find safety if they feel threatened. Whereas a person who passes a group of aggressive protesters on a public street can easily avoid them by going to another part of town, a Jewish student who needs to access a campus library that’s blocked by pro-Hamas protesters may not have this option. Ditto for a Jewish student who lives in a dormitory on the same floor with peers loudly chanting for the elimination of the Jewish state.

And here’s where the balancing act gets tricky: even if speech doesn’t technically incite violence and is therefore legally protected, it may nevertheless pose a moral peril.

It’s one thing to be forced to confront an idea that you disagree with; it’s something entirely different to be harassed, bullied, and told that your very existence is unwanted because you disagree with the person advocating that position. Under these circumstances, regardless of whether a student has the legal “right” to express a controversial opinion, colleges and universities nevertheless have a moral obligation, via their code of conduct, to ensure the safety and equal access to facilities for all students.

Institutions of higher learning were designed to create environments that force students to confront ideas they vehemently disagree with — without putting them in harm’s way. As Van Jones eloquently opined, “[t]he point of college is to keep you physically safe, but intellectually unsafe.” Unfortunately, this is no longer the case at America’s top universities.

On December 5, three university presidents testified before Congress about the limits of free speech on campus and insisted — in almost coordinated fashion — that there is a “context” in which calling for the genocide of Jews would be an appropriate exercise of free speech. Beyond the hypocrisy of this statement (would there ever be an appropriate “context” to call for the genocide of black Americans or transgender Americans?), the event was a striking illustration of a sentiment that, post October 7, has become increasingly prevalent among leaders in higher education: a slavish adherence to legal considerations with no regard to morality. When leaders of nonpartisan institutions make this calculation, they choose a “side.” They violate their duty to students who have entrusted them with their minds and their lives.

Upon reflection (and enormous pressure from astonished alumni), University of Pennsylvania president Liz Magill apologized for her testimony and acknowledged that she had been focused on Penn’s “longstanding policies aligned with the U.S. Constitution which say that speech alone is not punishable” and disregarded the fact that calling for the genocide of Jewish people is “evil — plain and simple.” In other words, she was reminded of her duty to balance legal and moral considerations.

It remains to be seen if, and to what extent, colleges and universities will re-examine codes of conduct on their campuses. The balanced, common sense solution that we in FAIR would recommend is a consistent standard that carefully contemplates both the legal rights of students to speak freely and the moral obligation of administrators to keep all students safe. Regardless of race, creed, sex, or any other immutable or mutable characteristic, students must always feel welcome and protected in their place of living and learning.

What’s happening on campuses speaks to something much greater that affects all Americans. Increasingly, we are being forced to reckon with events and issues that challenge our foundational principles. As a country, we’ve reached an inflection point. It may be no exaggeration to say that the choices and decisions we make now will determine the course our nation takes and what it looks like, not just in the immediate future, but for decades to come. In many ways, we face an existential crisis.

I am fully confident that we will ultimately find the strength and moral courage to work through this crisis together and come out stronger on the other side, and I believe that organizations like FAIR will play an important role in this process. The work we do is extremely hard, and the longer I remain in this role, the harder this work becomes.

We in FAIR will continue to do our job, as best we can. Like everyone else, we are only human, and we will make mistakes. Our statements on events and issues may not come as swiftly as some want or expect, and our thoughts may offend others who thought they were on the same page and suddenly question whether we’re reading from a different chapter. But I hope our supporters will understand that while patience, diligence, and thoughtfulness receive little credit in a society that thrives on instant gratification and regret, they are vitally important to fulfilling our mission and efforts to help steer our country through this crisis.

Sincerely,

Monica Harris

Executive Director, Foundation Against Intolerance & Racism