Did the mullahs stand behind the campus pro-Palestine protest movement?
By Rachel Avraham
When Kent Syverud, the chancellor of Syracuse University, told a congressional committee that “Iran has encouraged and possibly facilitated” some of the anti-Israel protests on U.S. campuses, the statement reverberated far beyond upstate New York. It was more than a local university controversy—it became a flashpoint in the growing debate over whether foreign governments are shaping the political and moral climate of American higher education.
For months, protests linked to the Gaza conflict have rippled across American universities. They began as demonstrations against Israel’s military actions, but in many places, the message widened—and darkened. Calls for boycotts and divestment gave way to openly antisemitic slogans, intimidation of Jewish students, and attempts to justify terrorism as “resistance.” For many Israelis and Jewish observers abroad, these were not spontaneous eruptions of conscience but signs of a deeper ideological campaign.
Syverud’s testimony confirmed what Israeli analysts have long warned: that Tehran has learned to export influence not only through militias and missiles but through narratives. The Iranian regime’s media arms—such as Press TV and affiliated social accounts—have for years amplified campus activism, framing it as a global struggle against “Zionist oppression.” Intelligence assessments in both Washington and Jerusalem suggest that Iranian-linked networks have funded or coordinated some activist organizations through intermediaries.
The chancellor’s remarks drew fierce debate in the United States. Some academics accused him of “politicizing” campus dissent, arguing that student protest is a legitimate expression of free speech. Others countered that free expression ceases to be legitimate when it becomes an instrument of intimidation or when it carries the fingerprints of foreign influence. As one Jewish student at Syracuse said, “You can tell the difference between a protest and a performance.”
In Israel, Syverud’s statement landed with grim familiarity. For years, Israeli intelligence and diplomats have tracked Iran’s global “soft power” campaigns—an effort to delegitimize the Jewish state not through war but through narrative warfare. Tehran’s proxies no longer rely solely on rockets or drones; they invest in narratives that erode Western moral confidence, particularly on university campuses where future policymakers are shaped.
Israeli commentators noted that the Iranian regime’s encouragement of U.S. campus unrest fits a larger geopolitical strategy. Iran understands that public opinion can be a strategic weapon. By framing Israel as a colonial aggressor and casting Hamas as resistance, Tehran positions itself as a champion of the oppressed—a rhetorical inversion that appeals to Western students unfamiliar with Middle Eastern realities.
The result is a dangerous paradox: universities, meant to cultivate critical thinking, risk becoming echo chambers for propaganda. The intersection of moral outrage and manipulation is precisely where authoritarian regimes thrive. “Iran doesn’t need to convince American students to love it,” wrote one Israeli columnist. “It only needs them to hate Israel enough to forget what Iran really is.”
American lawmakers have begun to take note. The congressional inquiry that included Syverud’s testimony is part of a broader investigation into foreign influence in U.S. academia, including funding streams, visiting scholar programs, and student organizations. The goal, according to committee members, is not to suppress dissent but to ensure transparency—so that free speech remains free, not rented.
Still, the issue is complex. Universities operate in a culture that prizes openness and global exchange. Surveillance of ideas can quickly become censorship, and no democratic society wants to mirror the tactics of its adversaries. Yet, as Israeli analysts point out, there is a distinction between open dialogue and weaponized ideology. The challenge is to defend freedom without allowing it to be exploited by those who despise it.
Among Jewish and Israeli observers, the episode has also sparked introspection. If Iranian influence finds traction among Western students, it is partly because Israel’s narrative has lost its emotional vocabulary in the West. While Tehran appeals to justice, liberation, and resistance, Israel’s defenders often speak the language of security and survival—terms that fail to resonate with younger audiences raised on moral causes. The battle for hearts and minds is not only about information; it’s about inspiration.
In Jerusalem, policymakers watched the Syracuse controversy with a mix of concern and validation. It confirmed what Israel’s intelligence community has been saying privately: that the next front in the ideological war with Iran runs not through borders but through classrooms. The weapon is not a missile but a message.
The lesson, as one Israeli scholar put it, is simple but urgent: “If Israel and the West do not defend the moral clarity of their own story, someone else will rewrite it for them.”
Syverud’s words may fade from the headlines, but their echo will persist. The question is no longer whether Iran seeks to influence Western discourse—it clearly does. The question is whether the West, and especially its universities, are willing to see it.
Photo from Matt Hrkac: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gaza_war_protests#/media/File:Palestine_Rally_End_The_Siege,_Stop_the_War_on_Gaza_(53264633371).jpg
