By the time we feel ready to commit, we’ve spent a decade practicing how not to. Credit: Enya Kamadolli The first time that I told my family that I only date for marriage, my father’s eyebrows flew up, my mother had to put her tea cup back down, and my brother’s mouth opened before mine closed. They all found that declaration rather worrying, and for good reason. I’m surprised someone like you would want something that traditional, ventured my father. He may not believe that women should ever pay for dinner, but he’s quietly proud that he’s raised a daughter who demands to, anyway. The little girl intent on conquering the world had grown up into an unabashedly liberated young woman, and dating for marriage seemed to betray the arc of my own becoming. You’re too young for that, admonished my mother. My mother and I are more alike than either of us would like to admit, and I saw in her eyes a longing to tell her younger self to stave off settling down for as long as possible. God, what sort of men are you attracting saying things like that? My brother Aeden looked like he wanted to sprinkle me with spiced kombucha and plaster feminist literature across my forehead to ward off the chino-clad, regular-at-church, trad men he was imagining. He’s holding out hope that one of these days I might actually date a woman. We often equate dating for marriage with a socially conservative outlook—one that upholds the family as the cornerstone of a virtuous life and disapproves of casual dating or sex. To be a social liberal is to have liberal amounts of flings and casual relationships during one’s twenties, apparently. But really there are plenty of young fellow social liberals that do hope to have a happy marriage someday. Anyone who considers marriage an eventual priority should start dating with that end in mind right now. In fact, the costs of not doing so are arguably higher for those of us who seek modern, egalitarian partnerships than for those pursuing more traditional ones. Without the templates of prescriptive gender roles or shared religious doctrines to guide us, identifying a truly compatible partner demands far more trial and error. Divorce rates scream a humbling truth: we’re often not skilled at finding the right person—or at staying right for them. The best way to build conviction that someone is your right choice and the best way to learn how to be their ideal life partner is to date—and date seriously—for several years. Even serious relationships that fail teach us so much about what it takes to live a successful partnered life and determine what we’re looking for (and what we’re hoping to avoid) in a life partner. One of my older cousins recently got married after an eight-year-long relationship. She and her husband have the sort of relationship that even atheists pray for. I asked her once why she had waited so long to walk down the aisle. If someone’s the right person for you, you don’t lose anything by waiting to get married. But if someone’s not the right person for you, there are huge costs to rushing. Wrapped up in all our worries about what we might lose when we commit to a serious relationship at the onset of young adulthood, we ignore the costs that we’re pushing onto our future selves—namely, the risk of committing to a marriage that we are ill-suited and underprepared for, one that is doomed to fail from the start. If you spend your twenties running around the world with people that you know you’re not going to marry, the likelihood that you rush to the altar into your thirties is much higher. If you start dating to marry only when you’re ready to tie the knot, it might be too late. You’re an individual who has yet to learn how to be a serious partner, searching—frantically, if you want to start a family by a certain age—without knowing what you’re hoping to find. It takes years to unlearn the individualistic reflexes that sabotage serious relationships. You can’t spend your twenties perfecting the art of self-prioritization and then expect to abandon self-interest the moment the right person appears. A successful marriage needs far more than two individuals—it needs two people who have learned how to make a union greater than the sum of its parts. Yet, the “flip-switch” mentality is everywhere. There are the people you date for fun in your early 20s—the lore will outlast their stay—and there are the people that you date when you want to start settling down, we’re told. In Privilege, an account of his Harvard undergraduate days, Ross Douthat recalls a college crush telling him “I'm sorry—I could see myself marrying you. I could. But I don't know if I could see us dating right now. Does that make any sense?” We’ve forgotten that the two pools (those you date in your twenties and those you marry) can and do overlap all the time—in fact, finding someone who falls in the middle of the Venn diagram should be the goal. My father and my best friend’s mother are more pessimistic. Even if you’re thinking about your future with someone right now, boys aren’t thinking that way, even if they think they are. While I was healing from my most recent heartbreak, my father advised me that men aren’t emotionally mature enough to have serious relationships until they’re 25, and that perhaps I should just swear off serious relationships until then. Similarly, every corner of the internet warns me that guys just marry whoever they’re with when they’re ready to get married. At least some of the men that I’ve dated are compelling evidence against the above parental wisdom, but many of them prove my father and my best friend’s mother right. What dating for marriage asks of you is hard, no matter your gender or emotional maturity. How do I know who my future self will want to marry when I don’t yet know my future self? We live in a world that increasingly pushes us to make predictions about our future selves earlier and earlier. Many of us try to create ordered lives that are older than we are, including in the romantic realm. When we’re young, serious relationships can look like playing house before we’re actually ready to run a household together. In this way, dating with the future in mind can be dangerous. The imagined idyllic family life ahead can become a mirage that keeps you trudging forward, and in perpetually looking forward, you forget to look down at the ground you’re standing on. The fantasy of a shared future might blind you to the reality of an unfulfilling present. Dating for marriage is not, and should not be understood as, dating for potential. We should not tolerate dissatisfaction in the present for the promise of an uncertain happy future—if only because our present happiness is predictive of the happiness of our future selves. To date for marriage, then, is to honor both your present self and your future self. A relationship worth pursuing is one that makes you happy in the present and holds the promise of happiness and fulfillment years down the line. Don’t waste your time dating people you know you’ll never marry, and don’t waste your time dating people who have promised you the future but can’t show up in the present. Date the middle of the Venn diagram.

Higher education through one-sided narratives has created "closed classrooms." Credit: Wikipedia Professors Jon Shields (CMC), Yuval Avnur (Scripps), and Stephanie Muravchik (CMC) have recently released a working paper analyzing diversity of thought in American college syllabi. The research team examined how three controversial issues—bias in the American criminal justice system, the Israel-Palestine conflict, and the ethics of abortion—were taught in classrooms, with an eye to whether these issues were presented as scholarly debates between good-faith opponents. With op-eds in the Wall Street Journal and the Washington Monthly, alongside coverage from Ross Douthat in The New York Times and Emma Pettit in The Chronicle of Higher Education, the researchers have garnered attention for their study’s bleak results: education through one-sided narratives has created “closed classrooms.” Methodology Through the “Open Syllabus Project” (OSP) database, the researchers had access to 27 million syllabi scraped from university websites dating back to 2008. “The surprising thing about the database is how little it’s been used,” Professor Shields noted in an interview with The Forum. With features tracking how often specific texts are assigned and paired with those expressing opposing views, the team could use this tool in an innovative way—to examine if syllabi fairly assigned both canonical texts and their criticisms. The three focus topics were selected for their disciplinary breadth—criminal justice draws on sociology and law, Israel-Palestine on political science and history, and abortion on philosophy. These issues have also been omnipresent during the research team’s teaching tenure. Criminal justice and the Israel-Palestine conflict have been the two most polarizing campus issues for the past decade, Shields observed, whereas abortion is the most enduring issue in the broader American culture wars. The next step was determining the canonical texts of each debate, with decisions made based on citation counts and the researchers’ own familiarity with the scholarship. The researchers chose Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow (19,000 citations) on criminal justice, Edward Said’s Orientalism (90,000 citations) on Israel-Palestine, and Judith Jarvis Thomson’s “A Defense of Abortion” (3,000 citations) on abortion. All of these authors have provoked pushback, with their critics raising subtle complications and, other times, offering full-throated rejections. The question remains whether these critics are being taught and, if so, at what frequency. Findings Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow—assigned 4,309 times in classrooms since 2012—argues that though formal racial discrimination ended with the Civil Rights Movement, the carceral system has replaced the old Jim Crow. Critics like James Forman Jr., John Pfaff, and Michael Fortner argue that Alexander fails to consider favorable Black attitudes to incarceration and overemphasizes the role of drug convictions in prison growth. Of all the opposing texts co-assigned with The New Jim Crow, Forman’s essay “Racial Critiques of Mass Incarceration” was the most common. However, Forman was assigned only 149 times in the 4,309 syllabi that include Alexander. Simply put, only three percent of students reading The New Jim Crow have also read its top critic. Instead, they read texts that reaffirm Alexander’s thesis; the texts most frequently co-assigned with The New Jim Crow are Angela Davis’s Are Prisons Obsolete?, Ta-Nehisi Coates’s Between the World and Me, and Michel Foucault’s Discipline and Punish. Syllabi that include Orientalism indicate a similar trend. Orientalism—cited 90,000 times and assigned in 16,000 courses—is more popular in classrooms than any “great book” of the Western canon. Author Edward Said, in discussing the ways Western experts (“Orientalists”) misrepresent the East, argues that Israel’s sovereignty can only be justified by embracing a xenophobic Western ideology. Said’s foremost critic is Samuel Huntington, author of The Clash of Civilizations (cited 50,000 times and assigned in 9,000 courses). Huntington argues that Islam presents a dangerous threat to Western ideology. Said has called Huntington’s argument “a gimmick.” Yet students are not made familiar with the heated debate between the two scholars. Huntington is only assigned in 758 of the courses that assign Said—less than five percent of the time. Orientalism’s more commonly co-assigned texts are other works of critical theory, such as Benedict Anderson’s Imagined Communities, Frantz Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth, and Homi K. Bhabha’s The Location of Culture. In a surprising turn, and to the credit of professors assigning Thomson’s “A Defense of Abortion,” the most commonly co-assigned text is Don Marquis’s essay, “Why Abortion is Immoral.” In fact, works expressing pro-life positions are assigned with Thomson more than a third of the time. The researchers note that the department primarily responsible for teaching Thomas—philosophy, which accounts for 90 percent of the occurrences of Thomson’s work across syllabi—may play a role in fostering this openness. Philosophy is a “discipline whose pedagogical aims explicitly include exposing students to competing arguments,” the researchers state. However, during our interview, Professor Shields was cautious to read too much into disciplinary differences. Though philosophy professors assigned Thomson with her critics more often than their non-philosophy colleagues assigned critics for their materials, such professors were in the minority. The “norm was not to assign her with her critics,” Shields observes, remaining uncertain whether other questions in philosophy would be presented any fairer. Interestingly, when critics are assigned in syllabi regarding all three topics, the most commonly co-assigned materials are the mainstream canon. For instance, professors who assigned Forman assigned The New Jim Crow 82 percent of the time. And even if Alexander was not taught with her critics, the research team found that similar—sometimes even more radical voices—were often assigned in place of The New Jim Crow. Reflections Since the paper’s release, critics have questioned whether “closed classrooms” are the norm. Shields says that many higher-education courses are uncontroversial in their subject matters, and often taught without issue. But the measure of a liberal institution is not how it teaches inoffensive issues, but how it prepares its students to grapple with the deeply polarizing ones. By no means should academics avoid teaching certain fashionable thinkers, Shields added. “The academy has always been…faddish and taken with certain intellectuals.” The concern lies in whether they are presented in conversation with critics or presented as infallible. There are also pragmatic benefits to liberalizing these classrooms—even if such “controversial” courses are in the minority. Increasing the rigor of debates in the humanities and social sciences might curb the drift towards STEM. Doing so might also help universities avoid future federal attacks. By presenting more well-rounded syllabi, academics can change the perception that “we’re trying to push a particular political project onto the public,” Shield says. On a final note, when asked how he’d motivate professors to open their classrooms, Shields replied: “it’s more fun.” Presenting these debates certainly makes the world more “complicated and tragic” for these students, but also gives them the sense that something is at stake. They gain the confidence needed to become thoughtful citizens, recognizing the import of these weighty questions. “We must invite students into the drama of truth-seeking.”

The United States must continue to make it clear that we stand with the Venezuelan people, against tyranny, and for democracy. Credit: Matias Delacroix, Associated Press It is no secret that the United States and Venezuela have not enjoyed friendly relations with each other. This fact has become especially apparent under President Trump. The President has on multiple occasions—both publicly and privately—spoken of potential military action against the South American nation across his two terms. This possibility became particularly relevant with the appointment of Marco Rubio—a longtime advocate of intervention in Venezuela—as Secretary of State under the second Trump administration. Catalyzing regime change would certainly work towards America’s best geopolitical interests. And taking such a bold and active step to liberate the Venezuelan people is the morally right thing to do, as well. Nicolás Maduro is not the legitimate President of Venezuela; he is a usurper, holding onto power through illegal means, despite his people making it abundantly clear that they do not support his regime’s continued rule. The 2024 presidential election was suspect from the outset. Maduro blocked his leading political rival, María Corina Machado—who was recently awarded the Nobel Peace Prize—from running. When the election occurred, the legitimate results published by the opposition—which have been independently verified by election experts—showed Maduro losing in a landslide to former diplomat Edmundo González. This result was affirmed by President Biden’s Secretary of State. But the “official” results published by the government (which lack transparent data such as tally sheets) claimed that Maduro had won a third term. The government has since engaged in harsh crackdowns against dissent, forcing the rightful president-elect to seek exile in Spain. Political scientist Steven Levitsky called the episode “one of the most egregious electoral frauds in modern Latin American history.” Since the election, multiple Venezuelan dissidents—including Machado, who has remained in hiding in Venezuela despite the immense threat to her life—have publicly stated that they would welcome American military assistance in deposing Maduro. U.S. military intervention would not be an invasion. It would be a liberation of a people suffering under an illegitimate government—one they have rejected and that refuses to abide by democratic laws. Nor would it necessarily entail boots on the ground. Intervention might instead begin with a naval blockade, air strikes, and the like. This would catalyze action from within the nation, providing support to armed rebel movements without requiring American soldiers to set foot on Venezuelan soil. Any true believer in liberal democracy should approve of such a move. As he has repeatedly shown, Maduro is not interested in any kind of peace. His government’s claimed annexation of two-thirds of the territory of neighboring Guyana, for example, is a gross violation of Guyanese sovereignty and international law. If Maduro does not face punishment for his actions, he will continue to jail and murder his political opponents and intimidate neighboring countries. He will persist in eroding Venezuela’s democracy and will destabilize the democracies of other nations in the region. Indeed, the situation is already dire—almost 8 million Venezuelans have fled because of food insecurity and political persecution since 2014. Fortunately, the Trump administration has demonstrated a willingness to confront Maduro, most recently by shooting down a boat operated by a Venezuelan drug cartel and through other displays of force in the Caribbean. The United States must continue to make it clear that we stand with the Venezuelan people, that we want to see their wishes for self-governance honored, and that we stand against tyranny, against dictatorship, and for democracy. On Oct. 10, following her receipt of the Nobel Prize, Machado posted the following on X: “We are on the threshold of victory and today, more than ever, we count on President Trump, the people of the United States, the peoples of Latin America, and the democratic nations of the world as our principal allies to achieve Freedom and democracy.” Machado’s words amount to a renewed call for U.S. intervention. The United States should listen to the Nobel laureate and restore order, democracy, and self-government to the people of Venezuela.

Attitudes towards the LGBTQ community have regressed because the movement has lost its ability to persuade. Credit: Ted Eytan, The Denver Clarion It’s been over five years since I sat in a corner of my bedroom and forced myself to entertain the nagging thought that I was not straight. I didn’t grow up in a tolerant environment where my realization could have been just another aspect of hitting puberty. And I figured it out far too early for any sort of libertine college experimentation phase. The loneliness was crushing. Yet, looking back today, on Coming Out Day 2025, I’m still thankful I came out when I did. For the past three years, a consistent 64 percent of Americans have considered gay or lesbian relations to be morally acceptable—down from 71 percent in 2022, according to a 2025 Gallup poll. By party, Democrat acceptance currently rests at 86 percent and Republican support is at 38 percent, an 18-point drop from 56 percent in 2022. When asked whether gay marriage should be recognized with the same rights as traditional marriage, Republican support decreased by 14 points from 55 percent in 2022 to 41 percent today. What may seem like a rapid regression in tolerance has actually been years in the making. Over the past decade, the LGBTQ movement has failed to shore up and sustain support for its members. The movement has “lost the art of persuasion” as Representative Sarah McBride—the first openly transgender member of Congress—told Ezra Klein for The New York Times earlier this year. With an era of good feelings post-Obergefell, activists brushed off the doubts and resistance that lingered in parts of the American populace, McBride argues. This hand-waving affected the transgender community most. After marriage equality was won, activists believed that enough of the population embraced the “T” of LGBTQ as part of “the same movement,” seeing no further need to engage and sway their opponents. It’s a classic case of “dead dogma,” a concept introduced by John Stuart Mill in On Liberty. If we unflinchingly accept a view as true, our belief in that view—even if we’re convinced it is the truth—weakens. Thus, we file away the reasoning for our convictions and parrot the formularies—in this case, the “love is love” and “trans people are people” sloganeering. We then forget how to defend our beliefs against dissenters. In part because of this ideological insulation, the movement’s tent no longer includes unlikely coalitions that can secure tangible victories. Consider the Human Rights Campaign (HRC), which, in 1998, supported Republican Senator Alfonse D’Amato for re-election instead of Democratic challenger Chuck Schumer. Their endorsement strategy favored incumbents when candidates’ records were comparable, and D’Amato had supported anti-discrimination measures and bills allowing gays to serve openly in the military. The HRC sought out winners for their cause, not leaders who’d signal their sanctimonious political correctness all of the time. Today, with groups like “Queers for Palestine” and theories like “Queer Ecology,” the LGBTQ movement has been subsumed under a broader progressive one. Say what you will about how intertwined these allies’ needs are or how unified they are in spirit. The fact remains that the LGBTQ movement has transformed itself into a reactionary monolith, one bloc joining forces with other “oppressed” groups to resist politicians, corporations, religious groups, and “oppressors” of all stripes. Lesbian author Camille Paglia observed this tendency as far back as the 1990s in her book Vamps & Tramps: “Get rid of victimology and oppression politics…Gay activism has got to get off its knee-jerk oppositional mode and into an affirmative articulation of first principles.” This “oppositional mode,” a high-strung and zero-sum mindset, has become more popular in the movement today. Some of us snap too quickly. We no longer want to “open hearts and change minds,” to quote McBride. This is a departure from the strategies of the past, political commentator Andrew Sullivan says, when activists explicitly sought out conversations at “fundamentalist churches…Catholic universities…[and on] right-wing talk shows.” Sullivan, a gay man himself, believes that the LGBTQ movement has not only neglected to engage its opponents, but also its internal dissenters. Today, disagreement abounds between older queer generations and younger ones. There are tensions between those who pursue marriage and the white-picket-fence, and those that reject that “heteronormative” lifestyle, for example. Sullivan has long observed the great diversity of opinion within his community. Yet today, good-faith questions and dissenting opinions, be they about youth gender medicine or LGBTQ content in schools, are ignored at best and derided at worst. The movement attempts to put up a “unified” front—to its own detriment. When Sarah McBride claimed she would follow the rules of the House’s bathroom restrictions, she caught flack. Her insistence that this policy was a distraction—that the community must ignore these “manufactur[ed] culture wars” and choose their battles wisely—drew the ire of many. “She should be using [her] power…not promoting messaging that suggests trans people should fall in line,” one transgender individual responded in an interview for The Washington Post. This individual’s comment represents the broader aversion of having to “debate one’s existence.” It’s a common refrain—as if defending one’s identity invalidates it. The fact of the matter is that conceptions of sexuality and gender are not passively understood, nor are they automatically embraced. This has become especially evident over the last decade, as the queer community has rapidly adopted complex ivory tower cultural norms and queer theory lingo, McBride observes. The movement has left many people—and most concerningly, many LGBTQ people—perplexed. If you find that you can best describe your identity with neopronouns, “xenogenders,” or other hyperspecific—and, frankly, confusing—labels, you must be ready to explain, and yes, defend yourself. Candidly, so should any lesbian woman or transgender man. Resting on your laurels, naively believing that any debate has been “settled,” is what got us here. Confusion drives fear, which drives hatred. I get it. In middle school, I had no desire to speak to the classmates and parents who protested a textbook’s mention of Sally Ride’s sexuality. In high school, I certainly didn’t want to cross paths with the Bass Pro Shop enthusiasts and athleisure-loving popular girls who thought homosexuality was a mental illness. And outside of the occasional conversation with peers who believe I’ll be heading to hell, I wouldn’t say I’m doing much in the way of persuasion right now, either. However, even if we personally aren’t willing to “debate our existence,” we must endorse its strategic importance. We must demand this approach from non-profits and advocacy groups, activists and influencers, that are able. We must see the community for what it is: a political entity seeking to preserve its existence. All communities must justify themselves through sustained persuasion. They must choose their battles carefully, even if it means making occasional concessions to fight another day. From the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to vaccination policies, deliberative—though often tedious and frustrating—consensus-building leads to a more convicted and enduring base of supporters. Rights secured by law do not remain secure by inertia; they must be defended, explained, and renewed through an ongoing commitment to engage with dissidents, both from without and from within. There is an art to building coalitions broad enough to withstand cultural and political headwinds. If the LGBTQ movement wishes to reverse the erosion of public support, it must rediscover how to argue for itself, to listen, to disagree, and to master the hard work of persuasion. This is the only way we can ensure that the freedoms won in previous generations remain secure for ours—especially for the closeted youth hoping to find their way out.

What you need to know about Tuesday’s 5C events. Claremont Students for Justice in Palestine vigil. On Tuesday, Oct. 7, students and faculty across the Claremont Colleges participated in pro-Palestine events, including vigils and speaker events, to mark two years of conflict between Israel and Hamas. On this day in 2023, Hamas killed 1,200 Israelis on the country’s southern border and took 251 hostages, which sparked Israel’s siege in Gaza that has killed over 67,000 Palestinians and displaced most of the territory’s population. On their Instagram, Claremont Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) shared a lineup of events to take place during the week. The first event was a vigil organized by the Faculty for Justice in Palestine, hosted outside the Honnold Mudd Library on Oct. 6. Multiple events took place on Oct. 7, with a "Strike for Gaza" promoted by the SJP, Claremont Undercurrents, Claremont Graduate University Intifada, and various other affinity and activist groups across the Colleges."No work! No spending," the groups urged, as they requested students and faculty to "not attend classes or work." An email template was circulated by SJP group leaders, giving students a format to explain the reason for their absence in class, while urging their professors to “acknowledge the genocide” and “atrocities occurring in Gaza.” The template concludes with student participants encouraging their professors to “let me know if there is anything I can do to support you in confronting this in class. I’d love to be a resource for you in this.” SJP also hosted a vigil at the Pitzer clocktower between 10 a.m. and 5 p.m., giving students, faculty, and staff the opportunity to place flowers and notes beneath a banner that read “Honor the Martyrs.” A portable speaker played audio that read aloud names of Palestinians killed in the conflict. At 12:15 p.m., speeches began as organizers delivered poems and works of Palestinian writers. A native Gazan shared his poem about the destruction of Palestine. Attendees then had an opportunity to read a piece or share their own words. At 3 p.m., the Southwest Asian North Africa Club co-hosted a speaker event with the 5C Prison Abolition Collective at Scripps’s Motley Coffeehouse. The groups invited activist Shaheen Nassar, a member of the “Irvine 11.” In 2011, Nassar and ten other students at the University of California, Irvine were arrested and convicted for disrupting a speech by Michael Oren, the former Israeli Ambassador to the U.S. Outside the Motley, students set up a market with pro-Palestine prints and stickers. Customers were told that proceeds would go to The People’s Fund, a student-led mutual aid organization that has raised nearly $56,000 for relief groups in Sudan, Congo, and Palestine through their donation site. The Motley event organizers said that they had raised $1,000 that evening alone. Fundraiser for The People’s Fund at the Motley. At 5:30 p.m., the Muslim Students Association organized a vigil titled “In Remembrance of the Martyrs of Palestine,” on the Scripps Bowling Green Lawn. Student leaders read aloud prayers and called for an end to the violence. Many groups shared their reservations about organizing demonstrations during the second Trump administration. On Oct. 7 of last year, around 100 students occupied Carnegie Hall for five hours, with some vandalizing the interior with graffiti and breaking AV equipment. Ten were suspended for the semester. On March 27, 2025, the U.S. House of Representatives sent a letter to Pomona requiring that the college produce disciplinary records of students involved in “antisemitic incidents” since 2023, particularly of those involved in the occupation. This year’s organizers also expressed fear for their undocumented peers, concerned that demonstrations would catch the attention of federal law enforcement agencies like ICE. “We knew that it would be too much of a risk for our members,” an SJP organizer stated, “We have a lot of folks within our community that organize with us that are undocumented or don’t have legal [status]... It is not a good time for us to escalate.” When asked what “white allies” could do to help at the Motley, Nassar responded, “If there’s more brazen forms of disruption, agitation, and protest, maybe some of our white counterparts who are less likely to receive the brunt of [law enforcement] force could step up to those levels.” Students gather on Scripps Bowling Green Lawn for Muslim Student Association vigil. Even so, many participants did not wear masks during the events—a noticeable difference from last year’s Carnegie Hall occupation. The SJP organizer said that it was more “powerful” to show their faces, particularly at a nondisruptive event like a vigil, where attendees could reflect and share in “collective identity and grief.” A point of contention is the decision to host these events on Oct. 7, the day when Israel experienced Hamas’s ambush and had not yet begun its offensive into Gaza. One of Claremont’s Jewish life groups, Hillel, denounced the chosen date, stating: “Commemorating Palestinian ‘martyrs’ on October 7th—the day when 1,200 people…were massacred, and 251 Jews and non-Jews were abducted—is deeply painful to many in our community. Choosing that date to center Palestinian suffering does not come across as mourning Palestinian civilians; it reads as honoring those who carried out the attack.” At the Motley speaker event, when one organizer was asked why the event was held on Oct. 7, they did not have an answer and were unsure if anyone else at the event would be able to provide one. The Claremont Muslim Student Association did not respond to a request for comment. When asked over direct message, an SJP organizer said that their “vigil was about grieving the collective life lost in the past two years due to colonial and state violence, this includes all Israeli fatalities from Hamas’ [sic] attack on the Nova festival.” Another vigil, which was hosted that same day at CMC’s Bauer Center “to honor the lives lost on October 7th and throughout the ongoing conflict in Palestine,” memorializing both Israeli and Palestinian deaths, was poorly attended. The event, beginning at 7 p.m., saw not more than ten people trickle in and out. This event was referred to as “Zionist-facing” by the SJP organizer for “not directly exposing the reality of colonial violence on the ground” and “describing things as ‘the conflict’ [instead of] calling the situation in Gaza a genocide.” The peaceful nature of the pro-Palestine events also contrasted with the language used in various Instagram posts uploaded that morning, including one from the SJP: “Today and everyday until the zionist regime falls, we grieve and honor the martyrs, while remaining steadfast in organizing for those who are still enduring a brutal reality.” The post goes on, adding, “While the US/israeli [sic] war machine continues to devastate Palestine, the US government continues its colonial legacy by building cop cities and detention centers, conducting mass deportations without due process, and cracking down on dissent and free speech in violent ways.” A few days later, on Oct. 9, Israel and Hamas signed a ceasefire that would require Hamas to release all Israeli hostages and partial Israeli withdrawal from Gaza. The Claremont Colleges’ McAlister Center for Spiritual Life and Claremont Hillel will be hosting a memorial service and speaker event with Oct. 7 survivor Yoni Viloga on Wednesday, Oct. 17. On Oct. 7, there were no public on-campus vigils held exclusively for victims of Oct. 7, 2023. This article was published in conjunction with the Claremont Independent. Andrew Nelson, Andrew Lu, Arjun Vohra, and Greta Long contributed reporting. Correction: This article has been updated to reflect SJP's status as one of several groups promoting the "Strike for Gaza." The original version referred to SJP as the sole organizer of the strike.

Provocative political posturing has no place on campuses committed to constructive dialogue. Credit: Bryan Myrick, Idaho Press Conservatives represent a small minority of the student body at CMC, and an even smaller minority across the Claremont Colleges. CMC’s 2024 Political Attitudes Survey found that 18.8% of respondents identify as Republicans, up from 6% in 2022. The Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE) affirms this result, reporting that CMC has a liberal-to-conservative ratio of 4:1. The ratios for the other colleges are more stark: 30:1 for Pomona, 34:1 for Scripps, 26:1 for Pitzer, and 39:1 for Harvey Mudd. While all of these surveys rely on a limited sample size of each college’s student body and may have a substantial margin of error, they reflect an uncontroversial fact: conservative students are significantly outnumbered in Claremont. In fact, the problem may be worse than it seems. Fear of social and academic repercussions leads conservative students to censor themselves both within and outside of the classroom. All of the Claremont Colleges earned grades of D or lower for “Self-Censorship” according to FIRE. Given this campus climate — and the strong leftward lean of Claremont faculty — conservative viewpoints on campus are being expressed even more rarely than the demographics of the student body imply. CMC’s chapter of Turning Point USA (TPUSA) seeks to remedy this problem by empowering conservative student voices. Charlie Kirk, TPUSA’s founder, traveled to college campuses across the country to promote the organization’s views. His signature approach was sitting at a table with a sign boldly proclaiming “Prove Me Wrong.” He was known for engaging in fiery debates with students, often dropping provocative one-liners that got widespread attention — both positive and negative — on social media. Kirk warned of “Blacks prowling the streets to go harass whites,” claimed that “anti-whiteness has been largely financed by Jewish donors,” referred to President Biden as “a bumbling dementia-filled Alzheimer’s corrupt tyrant who should honestly be put in prison and/or given the death penalty,” and used a slur for transgender people. He advocated conservative principles, but he also engaged in rage-baiting through intentionally inflammatory comments. TPUSA’s “nearly 800+ college chapters” follow Charlie Kirk’s model. Turning Point proclaims that its mission is “to identify, educate, train, and organize students to promote the principles of fiscal responsibility, free markets, and limited government.” But when this mission fuels incivility, political polarization, and the villainization of alternative viewpoints, it ends up harming our colleges and our country. Claremont McKenna College champions the principles of free expression, viewpoint diversity, and constructive dialogue. In 2018, the college founded the Open Academy as “[a] response to the educational imperative of our time: overcoming what divides us to solve the world’s most challenging problems.” Turning Point USA aims to broadcast their political agenda at all costs, embracing combative discourse to do so. These tactics are antithetical to CMC’s core principles. America is incredibly polarized right now. 80% of adults believe that Republican and Democratic voters disagree not only on plans and policies, but also on basic facts. Worse, we are struggling to have respectful, constructive dialogue across political differences. 84% of Americans believe that political debate in the U.S. has become less respectful and fact-based in recent years. 57% say that disagreements between Republicans and Democrats receive too much attention, and 78% say that too little attention is paid to important issues facing the country. In light of the current national political climate, CMC’s nonpartisan and campus wide Open Academy initiative is laudable. By teaching future leaders and professionals the value of civil discourse, colleges like CMC open the door to healing America’s polarization problem. The solution to Claremont’s viewpoint diversity problem and America’s polarization isn’t platforming provocative and combative dialogue. Instead, conservative students should focus on opportunities to present their ideas in respectful, intellectual ways that open doors for further conversations. Many students come to the Claremont Colleges with little-to-no exposure to conservative viewpoints. Oftentimes, students perceive Republicans as angry, hateful, or bigoted. By promoting thoughtful conservative arguments in a civil manner, right-leaning students can challenge this perception, allowing their peers to see the American right for what it is: a diverse political movement with a rich history and a strong intellectual backing. Organizations like Turning Point USA simply reinforce the preconceived stereotypes about Republicans, fueling division while hurting the conservative movement. Representation is powerful. When students interact with peers different from themselves — whether in identity, experience, or ideology — they become less prejudiced. Conservative students can help their peers consider new political perspectives while healing political polarization. However, this only works if we focus on building bridges rather than tearing them down. Turning Point USA’s combative approach to dialogue undermines the credibility of conservative students by associating their beliefs with harassment and incivility. A core tenet of conservatism is that change is slow. Edmund Burke, the intellectual founder of conservatism, wrote that “Time is required to produce that union of minds which alone can produce all the good we aim at.” Lasting and stable social change is driven by consensus-building efforts, not by yelling louder than your opponents. Yet Turning Point USA has abandoned this principle, prioritizing clicks over progress. Claremont conservatives who want to be heard should embrace civil discourse and turn away from Turning Point.

To recognize Somaliland is to destabilize Africa and undercut America’s values. This article is part of The Forum’s Debate Series, in which student writers take opposing sides on issues of importance to public life. Read the other side of the debate here. Somali Prime Minister Abdirashid Ali Shermarke with President John F. Kennedy at the White House in 1962. Credit: U.S. National Archives Somali Prime Minister Abdirashid Ali Shermarke with President John F. Kennedy at the White House in 1962. (Credit: U.S. National Archives) The enclave calling itself Somaliland marked the thirty-fourth anniversary of its unilateral secession this May with parades, speeches, and pageantry. Its leaders point to a local currency, passports, and episodic elections as proof of independence. They brand Somaliland as the "only democracy in the Horn of Africa," contrasting themselves with a Somalia still rebuilding from decades of conflict. Yet not a single United Nations member state has endorsed their claim. Only Taiwan—excluded from the UN itself—has extended recognition. The absence of recognition reflects a shared judgment: Somaliland's case does not meet the standards of statehood. For Washington to recognize it now would not affirm American values, but betray them. The territory that makes up Somaliland was a British protectorate until 1960, when it achieved independence. That independence lasted only five days. In July of that year, leaders from both the north and south voluntarily united to form the Somali Republic. The union was celebrated as a rare example of African unity in an era otherwise defined by fragmentation. In 1964, the Organization of African Unity adopted Resolution 16(1), committing its members to respect the borders they inherited at independence. Somalia, as a recognized state, fell under its protection. Somaliland, having ceased to exist as a separate entity after the union, did not. For six decades since, international law has treated Somalia's territorial integrity as the baseline—a position consistently reaffirmed by the African Union. Supporters of Somaliland often point to 1991, when the Somali National Movement declared independence in Hargeisa. The claim is that Somalia's collapse justified separation. But the declaration was unilateral. It was not ratified by a national plebiscite or endorsed by any international body. Later referendums organized in Somaliland suffered the same problem. In 2001, unionist regions refused to participate at all, dismissing the vote as illegitimate. Even the 1961 constitutional referendum, often cited by secessionists, is misrepresented. While some northern districts opposed the draft constitution, the majority of Somali clans across the country, including in the north, approved it. In Somalia's clan-based political order, no single region can claim to speak for all. These votes were never inclusive enough to carry the weight of sovereignty. The image of Somaliland as "the Horn's only democracy" is also less persuasive on closer inspection. Its multiparty system is capped by law at three parties, each dominated by a single clan. International human rights organizations have documented repeated violations: arbitrary detentions, crackdowns on journalists, and repression of political dissent. Historical episodes show a pattern of coercion. In Borama in 1991 and Kalshaale in 2012, civilians resisting secession were massacred. In Las Anod in 2023, authorities expelled thousands of residents southward, separating families in the process. Elections have been held, but under these conditions they reflect control more than consent. To frame Somaliland as a model of pluralism is to overlook the exclusionary politics that sustain it. Recognition would also cut against America's broader commitments. U.S. foreign policy rests on three principles: sovereignty, democracy, and stability. Recognition of Somaliland undermines all three. Sovereignty, because it would redraw Somalia's borders without its consent, contradicting decades of U.S. support for African unity. Democracy, because it would endorse one clan's dominance as representative of all Somalis. Stability, because it would invite other separatist movements across Africa—from Tigray in Ethiopia to the Anglophone regions of Cameroon—to demand the same treatment. The U.S. cannot credibly defend Ukraine's sovereignty against Russia or Taiwan's democracy against Beijing while disregarding Somalia's unity. Some in Washington have entertained recognition for strategic reasons. In 2023, Representative Scott Perry introduced legislation, and by 2025 reports suggested that the Trump administration might view recognition as a way to secure influence in the Gulf of Aden. Senior U.S. military officials even visited Hargeisa, underscoring the interest. But treating Somali borders as bargaining chips for access or positioning undermines the very principles the U.S. claims to uphold. For decades, Washington has supported the African Union's insistence that postcolonial borders remain fixed to prevent endless disputes. To discard that standard now for short-term advantage would not strengthen American strategy, but weaken its credibility across Africa and beyond. Nor is there African support for recognition. The African Union and regional bodies have repeatedly affirmed Somalia's territorial integrity. No African state has recognized Somaliland. The push comes instead from Western think tanks, scattered legislators, and European populists. Acting alone would isolate Washington from Africa and hand China and Russia an easy line: that U.S. support for sovereignty is selective. Recognition of Somaliland would not mark a victory for democracy, but a return to colonial arrogance—a signal that the sovereignty of African nations can still be bartered away when it suits a superpower. It would silence the unionist communities who continue to reject secession. It would reward an enclave whose history includes repression, displacement, and exclusion. And it would signal that American values—sovereignty, democracy, stability—are negotiable. U.S. policy can either uphold those principles consistently or abandon them in Hargeisa. It cannot do both.

The Horn of Africa’s best democracy is key to a more peaceful continental order. This article is part of The Forum’s Debate Series, in which student writers take opposing sides on issues of importance to public life. Read the other side of the debate here. A woman celebrates her nation’s independence in 2025. Credit: Somaliland.com The Republic of Somaliland celebrated its 34th annual independence day on May 18 with parades, song, and oratory. Somaliland issues its own currency and passports. It is the only democracy in the Horn of Africa and has achieved relative prosperity despite seceding from Somalia, a nation now globally synonymous with state failure. Yet, only the Republic of China (Taiwan) has afforded any recognition to the festivities—and Somalilander independence writ large. The present-day Republic of Somaliland comprises the sector of coastal Northern Somali territory formerly under British rule. It gained independence in 1960, separately from the former Italian colonies of Somali. However, it sought immediate reunion as part of the independence requirements for the British and Italian colonies. The Southern, formerly Italian-aligned leadership came to rule the union and Somaliland began its first attempt to seize independence in an unsuccessful 1961 revolt. After a period of political turmoil typical of post-colonial states, Somalia came under the communist rule of General Siad Barre. This arrangement was opposed by the Somali National Movement and finally ended in 1991 as the disintegration of the communist regime left the nation in chaos. The clans comprising Somaliland declared independence. This was initially seen as a temporary measure, but the escalating nature of the wider Somali conflict in their southern region led voters to overwhelmingly approve a constitution, finalizing the nation’s independence in 2001. No member of the United Nations has recognized the Republic of Somaliland, and the non-UN member Taiwan only extended its recognition in 2020. Despite this, practically every expert on the region has recognized its success. The new constitution successfully produced a relatively strong democracy that has seen several peaceful transfers of power. Development specialist Seth Kaplan argues that Somaliland succeeded by rooting democratic practice in “traditional Somali concepts of governance by consultation and consent” that built a vibrant civil society. Early gatherings to form the state included “elders, religious leaders, politicians, civil servants, intellectuals, and businesspeople” and incorporated the already existing frameworks of civil society governance into formal institutions. To maintain this cohesion, political parties are required to draw support across regions, preventing purely clan or ethnicity centered movements from gaining power. However, Kaplan also recognizes that Somaliland, while exceptional in handling the challenges of post-colonial statehood, still suffers from issues of “nepotism and clannism.” “Corruption is rife,” particularly in its barely meritocratic civil service. The recent 2024 presidential election saw significant outbreaks of violence. Nonetheless, opposition candidate Abdirahman Mohamed Abdullahi was victorious and the republic saw another peaceful and orderly transfer of power once the votes were cast. The situation is not perfect, but the international human rights non-profit Freedom House rates Somaliland as being roughly as free as Bosnia or Thailand in terms of civil and political liberties. Somalia, in contrast, is comparable to Afghanistan, Syria, or Myanmar. By failing to recognize Somaliland, the United States has failed to recognize an objective reality on the ground. The republic has proved itself able to self-govern over decades and does so leaps and bounds better than any regional actor. Recognizing the reality on the ground offers an opportunity to further both American values and American interests. The United States has no basis upon which to deny diplomatic recognition to a relative beacon of liberty and democratic practices in a region where both are lacking—despite America’s attempts at democracy promotion. Indeed, it is ludicrous to devote resources and rhetoric to promoting democratization in Africa while denying support to a democracy that built itself without an American crutch. The burgeoning alliance between Taiwan and Somaliland demonstrates Somaliland’s orientation against the interests of Chinese economic expansion, which has come to dominate the developing economies of Africa. American diplomats publicly encourage Guatemala, Paraguay, and other allies to stand by Taiwan in the face of diplomatic depredations from China. Meanwhile, we have failed to support one of these select few nations affording Taiwan with full diplomatic ties. As recently as June 24, Taiwan and Somaliland agreed to joint development of their mutual coast guard forces, a vital move as fears of a Chinese land invasion of Taiwan continue. The United States cannot participate fully in guaranteeing the safety of Taiwan without the ability to work with Taiwan’s newest crucial defense partner. The move might not be as far away as it once seemed. The recognition of Somaliland by the United States was a centerpiece of the agenda for African foreign policy proposed by the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025, though the niche proposal gained far less media attention than the hundreds of significantly more controversial suggestions. Nigel Farage, the leader of Britain’s right-wing populist Reform UK party recently dominating polls, has also voiced his support for recognizing Somaliland’s independence. Pennsylvania Representative Scott Perry introduced House legislation recognizing Somaliland in 2023. The movement has regained some steam as of May 2025 when The Guardian reported that the Trump Administration might use recognition of Somaliland as a means of securing a strategic position in the Gulf of Aden, near where the Yemeni Houthi organization has targeted American ships. This would protect American interests in the regional oil economy. Lending credence to the report, senior leadership of the United States Army recently visited Somaliland’s capital of Hargeisa. United States policy is on the right track, but it has not gone far enough. Only the complete and total recognition of the independence of Somaliland can open the door to full diplomatic cooperation in a key region for American interests. Most importantly, only this level of recognition aligns with the American ethos of global democratization.

Nadine Strossen is American legal scholar and the author of The War on Words: 10 Arguments Against Free Speech—And Why They Fail. Strossen sits down with Sara Arjomand '26 to discuss free speech and its status on today's American college campuses. This interview transcript and recording have been edited for length and clarity. Sara Arjomand: Nadine Strossen is a professor of law emerita at New York Law School, and was the national president of the American Civil Liberties Union from 1991 to 2008. She's now a senior fellow at FIRE, the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression. She's also the author of The War on Words: 10 Arguments Against Free Speech—And Why They Fail, which was published this year. She has more than 40 years of experience in First Amendment law, and we’re lucky to have her here to speak with us today. Nadine Strossen, welcome to the podcast. Nadine Strossen: Oh, Sara. I'm so honored to be your podcast guest and to be a return visitor to your very impressive and supremely beautiful campus. Sara Arjomand: Thank you. So I suppose we can start at the very beginning. What is your elevator pitch for freedom of speech? Nadine Strossen: Without freedom of speech, nothing that is positive in life could be achieved—starting with the ability to explore your own identity, your own values, your own concept of your purpose in life. And moving beyond that, your ability to communicate with other human beings—to form relationships from the most intimate to interpersonal ones that are essential for being part of any community. And moving beyond that: instrumental values, including the pursuit of truth. Here on campus, that’s an especially important aspect—truth in every possible field, from spiritual, philosophical, and religious to scientific and social scientific. And then, last but far from least, as we live in a representative democracy, “We, the people”—to quote the opening words of the Constitution—could not effectively or responsibly exercise our sovereign power without the most robust freedom to debate and discuss policies and officials and candidates. Is that enough? Sara Arjomand: I mean, it’s certainly a compelling pitch. And I just, I suppose I wonder if not all of our readers will be on board at this point. I think that for many of them, the lingering worry has to do with hate speech. I think that’s especially relevant here on a college campus. Nadine Strossen: Well, if I could interject though, Sara. Sara Arjomand: Of course. Nadine Strossen: Freedom of speech is not absolute. I’m talking about the value of speech, but precisely because of its power, the Supreme Court—which has generally been very speech-protective—has never held that speech is absolutely protected. Let’s start with the language of the First Amendment, which is the Free Speech Clause: Congress shall make no law abridging the freedom of speech. Now that may sound rather straightforward, but when you hone in on it, you will not be surprised that every single word in that phrase has been subject to debate. What is speech? Not everything that conveys a message is deemed to come within the protective ambit of speech. What is freedom? Freedom is not absolute. What is an abridgement? Maybe a restriction that is necessary to protect safety or health is not an abridgment that violates the First Amendment. So now you can ask follow-up questions. I didn’t mean to interject, but to say that one protects freedom of speech does not mean that therefore one says, “All speech is protected, and no limits are ever tolerable.” I do not know a single free speech champion who has ever taken that position. Sara Arjomand: Maybe it would be helpful, then, to think about how “hate speech” has been traditionally understood. Nadine Strossen: There is no legal definition of hate speech precisely because the U.S. Supreme Court has never recognized a category of speech defined by its hateful message or content, and said, “Therefore, because of that message, it is excluded from First Amendment protection.” To the contrary, the Supreme Court has very strongly protected—as what it calls the bedrock principle of free speech—a concept called viewpoint neutrality: that government must remain neutral with respect to the viewpoint, the idea, the message, the content of the speech. No matter how unpopular or hated or hateful or otherwise controversial the view is, that alone is never enough to justify censoring it. So that fact that someone deems a message to be hateful is not ever going to justify government restrictions on that message. But the complementary principle is often called the emergency principle. And what that means is when you get beyond the viewpoint or the message of the speech and you consider it in its overall context—its facts and circumstances—if, in a particular factual context, speech (regardless of the message—it can be a hateful message, it can be any message), if in the facts and circumstances, it directly causes certain specific harm, or imminently threatens certain specific harm, then it can and should be punished. Let me give you an example. If speech is—well, this is a very simple example—if speech is through messages that intrude into your private life… Let’s say a phone call—the old-fashioned landlines that you couldn’t turn off, that would ring in the middle of the night—and somebody was persistently calling someone else, disturbing their sleep. It wouldn’t matter even if they were saying, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” That’s the opposite of hate speech, right? And yet it is still unprotected harassment because it’s causing the harm of intruding into privacy and rest. There are many factual contexts in which much hateful speech can and should be punished—but not solely because of its message. So there are many instances of targeted harassment of the type that I talked about that are conveying hateful messages. There are many instances of threatening or intimidating speech, where the speaker intends to instill a reasonable fear in the targeted person that they’re going to be subject to violence. Many of those contain hateful messages. And I think that’s exactly right: that the speech that is the most dangerous, because it poses an emergency, can be punished regardless of what its particular viewpoint is. But the most dangerous censorship is also outlawed—and the most dangerous censorship is when government selectively chooses which messages it disfavors. Sara, I want to give you one other example, because I know that everybody has in mind particular odious messages that each of us thinks are hateful, and therefore would be very happy to have government restrict. So I want to remind everybody that what is going to be punished is not what you consider to be hateful, but what the government considers to be hateful. So let’s take Donald Trump and his vice president, J.D. Vance, and his chairman of the FCC, Brendan Carr, not to mention the Attorney General, Pam Bondi. I guarantee you that what they consider to be hate speech is going to be very different from what many members of our country consider to be hate speech. Donald Trump was quite expressed a few days ago. He basically said any speech that’s critical of him or of his policies is hate speech and should be punished. So it’s the danger of that subjectivity—the value judgments, and basically empowering whoever has the enforcement power to pick and choose the messages they personally disfavor. Sara Arjomand: And so in your view, is that kind of the most compelling rationale for safeguarding even the most deeply offensive forms of speech—this kind of worry about how a government might wield their subjective power? Or is it something else? Nadine Strossen: I would say that is—if I had to choose a single rationale, I would say the fact that it is such an inherently vague and broad, manipulable concept that it essentially empowers whoever is enforcing (whether it be a government official, a university official, or, for that matter, a social media platform). It essentially gives them unfettered discretion to pick and choose the ideas that the rest of us will be able to hear and to convey. And that’s extremely dangerous for all of the reasons that I explained—why freedom of speech is so important. It would undermine individual liberty, equality, and democracy alike. Another way to think of it is this: harmful as much speech—including much hateful speech—can be, I think it’s even more harmful to empower the government to suppress it. So it’s like: what is the least dangerous option? Sara Arjomand: So, there are a couple of things we kind of often hear, I think, on a college campus like this one: words are violence, silence is violence. These are kind of common refrains on American college campuses. Nadine Strossen: So everything is violence, right? Words are violence and silence is violence, right? And I think hopefully violence is violence too, right? Sara Arjomand: Right. I think that’s kind of something that we hear especially on campuses with the kind of liberal or leftist bent—which, you know, admittedly, is a great many of them. What would you say to my peers who hold that view? Because I think it’s kind of a particularly difficult one to disabuse them of. Nadine Strossen: It’s a very important argument. My most recent book, which was just published this summer, co-authored with Greg Lukianoff, who’s the CEO of FIRE (Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression), is called The War on Words: 10 Arguments Against Free Speech and Why They Fail. Greg and I came up with the idea for this book because both of us are constantly speaking on college campuses and other venues and constantly hearing anti–free speech arguments. And we thought—we love answering the questions orally, we never get tired of that—but we thought it would be useful to concretize the answers in writing for people that we don’t have a chance to speak to in person. Of all the different arguments that both of us heard, we each came up with our own list of what we thought the 10 most important were. And then our editor also independently made his own selection. Every single one of us concluded that the most important argument that is regularly offered as a supposed justification for restricting speech, that we really had to refute, was exactly the argument that you have flagged, Sara—that words are violence. That has become very poignant and troubling in the wake of the assassination of Charlie Kirk. Because if you fervently believe that words are violence, then it becomes justified to use violence to try to suppress words that you put in that category of violence. And FIRE’s most recent campus survey, which came out the day before Kirk was assassinated, showed that 34% of students on college campuses believe that violence is at least sometimes justified to silence a speaker whose message is detested. On your campus, the answer was about the same—34% of your fellow students thought that. So if we want to protect against actual violence, that is one reason to oppose this argument. But also logically, it falls apart. Sara, you’re a philosopher, so I’m sure you could answer this very compellingly. But Sigmund Freud supposedly said—if he didn’t, somebody else made the observation—that civilization began the first time an argument was responded to by hurling words rather than hurling rocks. Far from being violence, words and expression are the antithesis of violence—the alternative to violence as a mechanism for addressing and resolving conflicts through negotiation, through mediation, through debate and discussion. That is true on an interpersonal level. We don’t beat up somebody—or we should not physically assault somebody—we disagree with. We should engage with them through words. And likewise, for nations that are in conflict with each other, we would hope that rather than war and genocide and other violent tactics, they could have negotiated resolutions of their conflicts to advance human safety and peace and to enhance a long and good life for all of us as individuals and as nation-states. Sara Arjomand: Right. So you just mentioned your work—or FIRE. And Greg Lukianoff, who is the president. Can you talk to me a little bit about your work there, and kind of how you think about FIRE’s mission? Nadine Strossen: FIRE was founded a little bit more than 25 years ago, while I was the national president of the ACLU. And the ACLU has done and continues to do very important work in defending free speech for students and faculty members on campus. In fact, at that time, the concept of hate speech codes was just being pioneered in response to exactly the concerns that you raised, Sara—very important concerns about making sure that campuses were welcoming. I think it was before we used the phrase DEI, but the concepts were very much in play. We want to be sure that not only do campuses lower the traditional discriminatory bars to people who had been traditionally excluded, but that we truly create inclusive and welcoming environments. And it was a very plausible argument that those environments are undermined through hateful expression. The ACLU, even though it had long defended freedom for speech that was hateful (that was antithetical to civil liberties), because of the fear of empowering government that we described, we thought: this is a serious new argument that hadn’t been raised in the past, one that was based more on concerns of equality and dignity and inclusivity. So we very seriously reexamined what our policy should be. And after much study and debate, the national board of the ACLU did something which is unheard of—it unanimously adopted a policy. Very contentious board, very large (more than 80 people), but every single one of us, including people who had devoted their whole lives to civil rights and racial justice, was convinced that no matter how well-intended, hate speech codes were at best ineffective and at worst even counterproductive in furthering those goals. And so the ACLU brought the first couple of lawsuits against campus hate speech codes. We won them. But despite those victories, campuses all across the country were adopting these codes, and it was too much for us to do on top of all the other work. So when I learned, and ACLU colleagues learned, about the forming of this new organization—then called, it had the same acronym but it stood for the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education—co-founded by somebody who was a leader of the ACLU, Harvey Silverglate, I was very excited. You know, we really need an organization that is going to be dedicated full time to this burgeoning area. Often FIRE has handled cases together with the ACLU, often separate. And then, as you know, a couple of years ago—or, I think you know—FIRE expanded its mission to go beyond campus. Because what starts on campus doesn’t stay on campus, and the free speech challenges in the larger society have been growing exponentially. They kept the same acronym, but the “E” now stands for Expression. I’ve been closely involved with FIRE personally since the beginning, because I’ve always been very concerned about campus freedom and about free speech. From the beginning, I was on the board of FIRE, even while I was the national president of the ACLU. And then a few years ago, when I had stepped down from full-time teaching so I would be able to become a full-time evangelist for free speech—seriously, that was my idea, and it certainly has come to fruition—it was about that time that FIRE was expanding, and they asked me to become—I was one of its first two senior fellows. I’m very proud of that. And I continue to work very closely with both FIRE and the ACLU and a couple other organizations that are committed to academic freedom and free speech. I continue to be completely, enthusiastically supportive of the ACLU’s overall mission, which is broader than that of FIRE and these other organizations—defending all fundamental freedoms for all people. I’m passionately committed to all of those rights, from A to Z—or abortion to zero tolerance, to mention a couple of examples. But for the reasons I explained at the outset of our interview, I am absolutely convinced that freedom of speech is the essential bedrock for advocating every single other human right. And so, therefore, in my limited remaining time on this planet, I want to concentrate my time on that absolutely essential fundamental right. Sara Arjomand: Do you feel that kind of making these arguments is getting harder? I mean, has it kind of become more of an uphill battle as you’re, you know, kind of evangelizing today, versus maybe if you’d been on this kind of, you know, touring journey 10 years ago or something? Nadine Strossen: Actually, it has really stayed the same, Sara, through all of the factual changes and through all of the changes in who’s exercising political power—all of the cultural changes. The basic problem from a free speech perspective has been consistent, and that is that the vast majority of people believe in freedom of speech for me, but not for thee. People are constantly changing their views depending on whether they like or dislike the particular message or the particular speaker. And I can illustrate that just by very recent events. When Donald Trump and Republicans were running for office, they were campaigning on free speech and against censoring hate speech and against cancel culture. Trump made this a big deal in his inaugural address. And I think his very first executive order—at least it was on the first day of issuing executive orders—was one that was, you know, “we’re going to get rid of censorship and restore free speech.” And how quickly things have changed. He and his attorney general are now saying, and many other Republicans are now saying, “We should censor hate speech” and “Cancel culture is fine as long as it’s coming from the right rather than from the left.” But conversely, in fairness, many progressives and Democrats who were in favor of censoring hate speech, who said, “Oh, there’s no such thing as cancel culture, it’s only consequence culture”—now that the power of those concepts is being wielded against messages that they support, their perspective has changed. I think that those of us who—and I don’t say this at all in a self-righteous way—I really understand people’s fervor about wanting to restrict ideas that they believe are fraught with danger. And it takes… But I do also believe that if I have a chance to explain, giving some current examples and examples from history of how even the best-intended censorship ends up causing more danger than alleviating the danger, then I can persuade people. But you can’t do it in a sound bite. Whereas, you know, saying, “That’s a hateful message, let’s silence the message,” is easy to convey in a sound bite. One really good example, which has been in the news lately, is burning the American flag—which Donald Trump is yet again saying that we should outlaw. That would require amending the Constitution, because the Supreme Court has held, including with the support of conservative justices, that any law banning or punishing flag burning would squarely violate that bedrock viewpoint neutrality principle. But I remember at the time that the Supreme Court first reached those holdings, they were so politically unpopular all across the political spectrum. The then-president of the United States, George H. W. Bush, the very next day gave a speech in which he called for amending the Constitution. And we were within one vote of amending the Constitution. Almost immediately, the House of Representatives passed the constitutional amendment by the mandatory two-thirds vote, and almost immediately, three-quarters of the states supported the constitutional amendment. In the U.S. Senate, it came within one vote of the two-thirds margin. So when people really detest an expression, it’s just like common sense that we should get rid of it. And I remember speaking to many members of the House and Senate who opposed the constitutional amendment, but they said, “I can’t say that, because I can’t say it in a sound bite. And my opponent—all my opponent has to do is get on TV,” or nowadays they’d say on your podcast. And I guess podcasts give you more time to make the point, but in a TV ad you can’t—it’s a sound bite. My opponent just has to say: “This person supports burning the American flag.” You can’t respond to that quickly. Sara Arjomand: Right, right. So I guess you just kind of mentioned the FIRE report, which was released a few weeks ago. And I guess for context for listeners—Claremont McKenna, we claimed first place. Nadine Strossen: Yay! And you’re, I think, the only… It’s the second time you’ve been in first place as the most speech-protective, congenial environment for speech of all the campuses surveyed. This year it was 257, and I think you’re the only school that has ever been number one more than once. Sara Arjomand: Oh wow! Well, congrats to us, I guess. Right—and Pomona clocked in, unfortunately, at 247 out of 257. And then the other kind of Claremont Colleges, their placements spanned that range. Can you share any insights into the findings from FIRE? Nadine Strossen: Yes. So first of all, for anybody who’s interested, I highly recommend you to take a look at the report on FIRE’s website. It’s very transparent. All of the data are available, all of the factors that were considered for your university and all of the others are available. And FIRE staff who collaborated in the report openly invite every member of the campus community who’s interested in doing a deeper dive to contact them. The reasons why Claremont McKenna did so well have to do primarily with excellent policies and a complete absence of any punitive actions by the administration against either faculty or students for engaging in controversial but protected speech. So, on the policy front: FIRE, as you may know, ranks campuses by red light, yellow light, or green light. A green light means there are no policies that expressly—no express policies—that are inconsistent with First Amendment principles. Sadly, there are very few campuses in the whole country that have a green light rating. So the fact that CMC has that already puts it in a very rarefied category of campuses. Harvard, my alma mater, has a red light rating because it has quite a few policies that, on their face, violate basic free speech principles. The other two policy vectors that weighed heavily in favor of your positive rating were that: you have adopted some version of the Chicago free speech principles. You’re a private campus, so you’re not bound by the First Amendment itself, but you’ve chosen voluntarily to adhere to principles that are completely consistent with the First Amendment. And secondly: you have adopted institutional neutrality, which I was just discussing in detail with your wonderful president—who is an expert, and who had personally written the policy, I had not realized that. Basically—the details can vary from campus to campus—but the basic idea is that the college as an institution does not announce positions, does not issue statements on contested matters of public policy, unless they directly affect the mission of the college itself. So that would mean there would be no CMC statement—or statement from a leader, such as the president—on the war in Gaza. But there could and should be a statement about a Trump administration policy that is directly affecting the university, such as a policy of defunding or of seeking to dictate what the curriculum should be, that violates academic freedom. So you got top grades on all of those policies. The only area where there was a deficit—and here I have to say I’m going to give you the honest, less positive part of the assessment—is that even though CMC is number one, its grade is still a B–. And barely a B–. That was done by a rounding up, because FIRE does not have grade inflation. It uses the strict traditional curve. I remember B– is the median, right? And as FIRE’s authors of the report said, we really applaud the schools that are on the top end. But the fact is that they’re just doing less badly, less poorly than the overwhelming majority. Two-thirds of all the campuses in the report—257—two-thirds got F grades. Where the downside for most schools was in this student survey, where students report a very sad degree of self-censorship—that they don’t feel comfortable having a free and frank and candid conversation about the most important contested issues. 57% percent of students reported—I’m sorry, 51%, could not have such a candid conversation about Israel/Gaza. But the second-highest swath of students nationwide—and your campus was quite typical on this factor—the second most self-censored topic was abortion. Something like 47% said they couldn’t have a frank conversation about abortion. And then right under that was the 2024 elections: 42% of students said they couldn’t frankly discuss the elections. Sara Arjomand: You sound kind of incredulous. Is this surprising to you? Nadine Strossen: Yeah—and you’re not? Sara Arjomand: No, I am. It’s.. Nadine Strossen: The Gaza issue doesn’t surprise me—I know how fraught that is. But I’m really astounded that abortion, among other things… Because statistics do show that campuses are overwhelmingly liberal, and so I would think that the overwhelmingly liberal, predominant portion of the student body would feel very comfortable discussing abortion and advocating a pro-choice perspective. Here’s a real—this one maybe I’m not as shocked as I would be if I weren’t a free speech crusader: 20% of students say they cannot comfortably discuss free speech. I mean, free speech is seen as being such a controversial topic. Hate speech, which you raised earlier—27% said they can’t comfortably discuss hate speech. So that is really significant, Sara, because it means free speech was separated from hate speech. So even just plain free speech is considered… what you and I are talking about now, 20% of your classmates, and students all across the country, would not want to have this conversation. So thank you for being courageous. Sara Arjomand: No, of course—and thank you. Oh, I guess I’ll just say on the kind of abortion point—I mean, I imagine that it’s probably the pro-life students who are self-censoring. Was that…? Nadine Strossen: But that would surprise me, that they would reach such a high percentage then, right? Sara Arjomand: You’re right, that’s strange. Nadine Strossen: So maybe my arithmetic is wrong. But how could you get to 46% or whatever it was? I doubt that those are all pro-life students. Sara Arjomand: No, it’s a good point—maybe people who are just kind of less convicted about the pro-choice view? Nadine Strossen: But anyway, anyway. This is a serious issue that, as I was discussing with some of your faculty members, and FIRE recognizes, is not directly within the control of the administration. So this is a factor that is weighted less heavily, in fairness, I think. Because no matter how good the policies are, students are still—and even if students aren’t afraid that they’re going to be punished by the administration (which, realistically, students here are not going to be punished by the administration or by faculty)—they’re afraid of their peers. And so, you know, peers have to change their own culture. Us old folks can’t do it for you. Sara Arjomand: Do you have advice for us? Nadine Strossen: I can only say that, from experience, that to be true to yourself, you have to be comfortable expressing your own views. And to be true to yourself in the sense of also wanting to discover and pursue truth—and having humility that you might not have arrived at perfect truth on your own, especially at your relatively young age. But maybe the older you get, the more aware you become of your own limitations—that it benefits you to listen to people who have different perspectives. You may change your own views; you may discover that you were wrong, or refine your thinking, which is a great benefit. Or you will learn to have empathy and understanding for different views, and have a sharper, more nuanced appreciation of your own views. So just in terms of being a happy human being, that kind of robust discourse is important. But beyond that, to be an effective and engaged member of our political community, you really have to hone the skills, the desire, and the benefits of engaging in negotiation. Going back to an earlier point: if you are to be part of a democratic process that resolves conflicts in a peaceful, nonviolent way. Sara Arjomand: We’re running up against the time here. But if I can ask kind of a final question: was there a case during your tenure at the ACLU that kind of profoundly tested the limits of your free speech commitments? And can you tell me about what you kind of learned from that experience—how you stand up for your principles, even when it’s uncomfortable? Nadine Strossen: I have to say that, in terms of the principle, I never found it hard. And I don’t say that in a self-righteous way—it’s the opposite. I mean, I never was somebody who felt a conflict between hating an idea and wondering whether it should be censored. Although I’m always open to evidence. I engage with every anti–free speech argument I can, and I’m always looking for data. But all of the information I’ve seen has convinced me that the most effective way to counter an idea that is dangerous is through more speech, rather than censorship. So from that perspective, it’s never been hard. But in terms of the personal blowback I’ve gotten—it was quite painful when I wrote a book that was published in 1995 called Defending Pornography: Free Speech, Sex, and the Fight for Women’s Rights. At the time—and to some extent this has continued, though not nearly as dramatically—there was a big division among feminists (of which I have always considered myself to be one), between the so-called radical feminists, who believed that a certain category of sexual expression, that was from their perspective demeaning or degrading or dehumanizing to women perpetuated discriminatory attitudes toward women, which fostered not only discrimination but also violence against women, including rape and other forms of sexual assault. And so therefore, they used the term pornography to apply to that category of sexual expression. And others of us—classical liberal feminists, civil libertarian feminists, if you will—who were very concerned about fighting against discrimination and violence against women, but believed that censorship, again, no matter how well-intended, would do more harm than good. This was based on a lot of history of laws against sexual expression targeting feminist expression, expression and information about contraception and abortion, about LGBTQ sexuality, about women’s health. So there was a lot of free speech from the so-called radical camp. And I say “so-called radical” because, to me, it was a profoundly reactionary viewpoint—but, you know, we’ll use the term that was commonly used. They engaged in what other people would call hate speech against myself and colleagues of mine. It didn’t particularly hurt me—I had developed very thick skin by that point—but it hurt me to see the pain that was caused to my husband in particular. I think each of us—we’re very well partnered, very fortunate—each of us gets more distressed and hurt about somebody who is hurting the other one. So very nasty things were said about me that were hard on him. He didn’t like the publicity. He’s a big free speech supporter, but those were troubling times. Sara Arjomand: How has kind of the reception of that book—and obviously it was difficult then—how do you think it would be received if you published it today? Nadine Strossen: It’s funny that you should ask, because two years ago NYU Press got in touch with me and said, “You know, this book is as relevant and timely as ever, because we’ve seen an increased volume of attacks on sexual expression using the rubric of pornography and obscenity.” And it’s mostly been wielded by the right against curriculum materials and library materials in schools and in public libraries that have to do with feminism and abortion and LGBTQ writers and perspectives. I should say, at the time that I wrote the book, I documented that under either the radical feminist definition or the traditional obscenity definition—no matter what you labeled it and how you defined it—any attack on sexual expression disproportionately silenced not only feminist expression, but also LGBTQ expression. That was a major theme in my book, and that really has come home to roost. So NYU Press said, “We want to republish the book as part of our NYU Classics series. Will you write a new preface for it?” And I said yes. So that happened. It came out in 2023. Sadly, I think the feminists have become—there’s less support, although it hasn’t gone away. I have debated feminists who share my goals of protecting women’s dignity and privacy and autonomy, and they’ve been primarily concerned about so-called revenge porn, or non-consensual intimate imagery. And there, I would say we have a basic agreement—if the law is sufficiently narrowly defined. Beyond that, the #MeToo movement and the movement against sexual harassment is very important, but too often it has been too expansive, to include any sexual expression no matter how well-intended or justified—including serious academic discussion, serious artistic expression. I think the best-known example there is Laura Kipnis, a film studies professor at Northwestern, who wrote an essay in The Chronicle of Higher Education in which she was opposing over-expansive concepts of sexual harassment as extending to expression, including serious academic discussions of sexuality and gender. Ironically, some students complained that her essay constituted sexual harassment, and she was subjected to what she called the “Title IX Inquisition,” sort of kangaroo court proceedings. She wrote a whole book about it. So the problems, unfortunately, persist. Sara Arjomand: Well, thank you so much for speaking to me. I really appreciate it. Nadine Strossen: Well, right back at you, Sara. Thank you for defending and exercising free speech so effectively. Thank you.

Claremont, it's time to preach what we practice. Credit: Elizabeth Thomsen, Flickr Last spring, Josh Morganstein CMC ‘25 and I took “Dostoevsky’s Russia” with Professor Gary Hamburg. Morganstein then published an article in The Forum drawing a striking parallel between Luigi Mangione and Rodion Raskolnikov, the protagonist of Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment. Intelligent and well-educated, charming and handsome, both Mangione and Raskolnikov were driven to misery by their conditions. Mangione detested a healthcare system he held responsible for his chronic pain. Raskolnikov, crippled by the poverty rampant in Petersburg, was unable to finish law school. Both found individuals to blame, convincing themselves that the world would be better off if their targets were dead. Mangione found the UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson. Raskolnikov found the local pawnbroker, a miserly and exploitative lender. But don’t be so quick to sympathize, Morganstein warns, either with Raskolnikov or Mangione. Dostoevsky makes clear that Raskolnikov’s motives were vile, for he believed that “great men” had the moral right to transgress laws—that he was a Napoleon ridding the world of a “pernicious louse.” Mangione too seemed to have a vigilante complex. To fully understand his drive—and the drives of politically-motivated killers in the real world—one must consider the culture in which Raskolnikov was immersed. In Petersburg, bold theories of morality and justice rationalized extreme, often immoral, change. Such action was lauded in the abstract, often by well-established members of society, but—thankfully—never initiated. Sound familiar? In the opening scenes of the novel, Raskolnikov overhears a student in a tavern arguing that killing the pawnbroker for her money would benefit Petersburg residents—that thousands of lives would be improved by the death of one. Yet, when asked if he himself would kill the pawnbroker, the student sputters, “Of course not! I was only arguing the justice of it…It’s nothing to do with me.” Later, attendees at a dinner party draw upon fashionable theories of the era, insisting that all societal dysfunction can be reformed by one “mathematical head.” They pin their hopes on a brilliant individual, one great man, who will cleanse Petersburg of its ills. Never does it occur to them that their “self-gratifying chatter”—their idle talk directed towards no tangible action—intensifies the desperation and delusions of men like Raskolnikov. We see a similar phenomenon today. “One life for thousands.” “Overthrow the oppressor.” “We’re under siege.” Pithy one-liners saturate X posts and thinkpieces, classrooms and podcasts. An opponent is denigrated to sub-human status, just as Raskolnikov viewed the pawnbroker: a louse, “sickly, stupid, and ill-natured.” Soon enough, such grisly ideas possess a mind. They are “parasites” that “had it coming,” said Mangione. “Everyone wants an excuse for not doing the right thing,” said Vance Boelter, a few years before he was indicted for killing Minnesota lawmaker Melissa Hortman. “I had enough of his hatred,” said Tyler Robinson, Charlie Kirk’s accused killer. Every one of these individuals was instigated, in part, by a culture that convinced them they were “doing the right thing.” Yet, in the moment that mattered, in the moment they pulled the trigger, they were alone. Where were their supporters? The intellectuals that insist upon violent revolution—whether to break the shackles of oppression or reclaim the American way of life—sat back in their armchairs. The most ardent apologists on the Internet move on quickly, leaving only their digital footprint behind. They fan the flames and raise the temperature—but stop there. They won’t pull the trigger. They won’t join a revolution. They won’t join a civil war. Most people’s privately-held convictions are incompatible with their public, inflammatory rhetoric. In their heart of hearts, they know that no ideology can justify the brutality of killing someone in cold blood. Most people know better. Raskolnikovs don’t. My fellow students—both on the left and the right—we are the ones who know better. It is no accident that many of you fail to preach what you in fact practice. You celebrate acts of violence you’d never dare commit. You encourage others to wage vengeful wars in which you’d never fight. You are like the members of Petersburg’s elite inner circles. You endlessly pontificate and never follow through, leaving the most desperate, unstable individuals to take matters into their own hands. Your “common and ordinary youthful talk” is what it was in Dostoevsky’s time, and what it will be in the future: pretense. If found guilty, Luigi Mangione, Vance Boelter, and Tyler Robinson will either rot in prison or be executed by the state. Back in Claremont, all those that cheered them will settle into their lucrative careers and lead cushy lives. You’ll attend Fourth of July barbecues and take a vacation for Memorial Day weekend. You’ll reap the benefits of life in a society you claim to want to tear down. I don’t believe that this inaction is mere cowardice or self-interest. Rather, it’s silent proof of the appreciation you’d never voice—appreciation for all that a pluralistic liberal society has to offer. You know this system works, that tolerance works. Of course, it’s not convenient for anyone’s politics—be they on the left or the right—to praise the merits of this system and tackle societal ills in accordance with its rules. That’s why you are happy to spectate, leaving agitated individuals to do the dirty work. Because deep down, you know that political violence, that illiberality, is dirty. That it is noxious in all its forms, especially as a means to extinguish free expression. To my peers: End your hypocrisy. Bring your words into alignment with your actions. This means defending freedom of speech even when you despise the content and tolerating your ideological adversaries even—and especially—when they diametrically oppose your own convictions. I can only hope that we learn this lesson before we produce yet another American Raskolnikov. This article was published in conjunction with the Claremont Independent.

The Druze of Syria stand on the brink of erasure, as their endurance is met with global silence. Credit: Jalaa Marey / AFP - Getty Images The Druze of Syria face a crisis that the world refuses to see. Located primarily in the Suwayda region in South Syria, this small religious minority has survived for centuries by maintaining a delicate balance in a region defined by sectarian violence and shifting empires. The Druze faith is an independent monotheistic religion with a distinct theology that emphasizes loyalty to the community, ethical living, and cautious engagement with the outside world. Throughout history, the Druze have resiliently protected their culture and their people, often standing alone against overwhelming odds. Today, their resilience is being tested once again. More than a decade of Assad’s rule and Syrian Civil War has left Syria deeply fractured. The Druze find themselves caught between a weakened central government, rival armed groups, and regional actors with conflicting agendas. In mid-July 2025, government and affiliated forces extrajudicially executed 46 Druze men and women in Suwayda, targeting homes, a school, a hospital, and public spaces. But the killings were only one instance in a wider crisis. Weeks of clashes between Druze militias, Bedouin tribes, and government forces killed hundreds and displaced more than 160,000 people in July alone. UN experts documented that 105 Druze women and girls were abducted, some subjected to sexual violence, and many remain missing. At the same time, power, water, and telecommunications collapsed across much of Sweida city, while hospitals struggled to function under bombardment. For weeks, the main highway to Damascus was blocked, cutting off aid deliveries until late August until U.N. trucks finally gained access. Local Druze factions have mobilized to defend their communities with the newly formed Druze-led National Guard and smaller militias in Jaramana, yet they face threats far beyond what these groups can handle. The international response has been minimal. Israel has stepped in, delivering 10,000 aid packages in March, offering medical treatment, and granting limited work permits in the Golan Heights. Meanwhile, the United Nations and humanitarian organizations have provided critical, but limited assistance (including convoys delivering food, water, and medical supplies to tens of thousands in Suwayda and surrounding areas). Despite these efforts, the scale of the crisis far exceeds what any neighbor or aid group can provide. Beyond Israel’s relatively proactive support, much of the international community remains fatigued by years of conflict and largely disengaged from the fate of a people who are too often ignored. This neglect is not a minor oversight, it is a moral failure. When governments and international institutions refuse to act, they set a dangerous precedent: small communities can be erased with impunity. The Druze, whose history is intertwined with the survival of pluralism in the Middle East, now risk being slowly erased. Their prayer houses and religious sanctuaries, schools, and cultural traditions face destruction. Their children grow up amid violence, and their elders witness neighbors who had lived alongside them for generations disappear or be displaced. The Druze do not merely suffer quietly; they organize, resist, and survive. But survival alone is not enough. Without consistent international attention and aid, centuries of culture and community could vanish. There are actions that can be taken. Humanitarian aid must reach the most vulnerable. Those committing violence must face accountability. International actors must document abuses, amplify voices, and exert pressure on regional powers to protect minority communities. The Druze are not asking for intervention to fight their wars. They are demanding international recognition of what has happened in Suwayda, support in the form of humanitarian access and legal protection, and guarantees that future abuses, extrajudicial killings, disappearances, and sexual violence will be investigated and punished so they might live without fear. The story of the Druze is a reminder of the human cost of indifference. Their faith and culture have faced relentless challenges, yet endurance alone cannot protect a people from being erased. The international community stands at a crossroad; it can choose to uphold justice, human dignity, and the protection of minorities, or remain complicit through silence. The Druze do not seek intervention in their conflicts, but demand recognition, peace, and solidarity. Their survival is more than a humanitarian issue. It is a call to honor a people deeply rooted in the Middle East. The future of their legacy rests on the world’s commitment today.

Learn more about the First-Year Class President candidates! Campaign banners hang along the balcony of Appleby As the semester ramps up and the Class of 2029 settles into college life, a familiar fleet of banners hang outside Appleby Hall. The First-Year Class President campaigns are in full swing, and six eager candidates are vying for the opportunity to represent the newest cohort of CMC students, promising events, food, community, and memories. The CMC First-Year Class President (FYCP) sits on the Executive Board of ASCMC and serves as a representative of the Class of 2029. The FYCP manages a budget of $3,000, which they can use to plan events and foster community within their class and across CMC's student body. Candidates were required to collect 50 signatures to be eligible to run. They will each give a speech at the ASCMC Senate meeting on Monday, September 15th at 8:00 pm in Pickford Auditorium. Voting opens at midnight that evening and will remain open for 20 hours, until 8:00 pm on Tuesday, September 16th. Read below to learn more about each of the candidates and their plans to serve the Class of 2029 in the upcoming year! FYCP Candidates (alphabetical order by last name) Suhas Beeravelli Varnika Bhargava Ludovico (Ludo) Cordara Weitao Ke Zoey Marzo David Yusten Jr. Varnika Bhargava Hey everyone! I think a lot of us walk into college with the mindset that it's going to be full of fun side-quests and adventures, that everyday is going to be like a movie. But then we come to CMC and have 70 pages of reading, 20 lines of python and 5 applications to do. My goal is to provide opportunities for college to still be like a movie, giving you experiences "for the plot" so you can walk out of CMC with a stacked resume and crazy lore :) Here are just some of my ideas: Stoplight party (wear green if you're taken, red if you're single) 5c freshman "frat" party Line dancing Silent Disco Make your own mocktail night Movie marathons and reality TV show watch parties Karaoke nights I also want to build community beyond just events through: A ponding committee so birthdays can become a class tradition Free snacks/drinks between classes Dorm Tours Tuesdays Speed dating to get to know each other Open cabinet meetings at late night snack so you can share your ideas and concerns I know that everyone has a lot on their plate, so I want to be a president who is transparent, receptive to your ideas, but also trustworthy so you can come to whichever events you are free for and trust that you will have a great time! Overall, I just want to serve you and make this the best year possible so vote Varnika B for freshman year to be a movie! Ludovico Cordara I’m running for Freshman Class President because I believe leadership starts with listening and ends with action. My campaign rests on four values: community, diversity of thought, efficiency, and transparency. First, community means putting people first. I want every student to feel represented, connected, and included. With so many passions and perspectives at CMC, we deserve a leader who can bring us together, not divide us. Second, diversity of thought is more than a phrase—it’s who I am. I bring the perspective of an Italian-American who has lived abroad and seen how different ideas strengthen a community. I will work to ensure every student feels comfortable voicing their views. Third, efficiency means keeping things simple and effective. I won’t make empty promises or chase impossible goals. Instead, I’ll focus on small, tangible wins—like improving campus life with simple, practical changes that matter day to day. Finally, transparency means being accessible and accountable. Every Friday from 11:30 to 12:30, I’ll be at Collins, ready to hear your ideas, suggestions, or even just have a conversation. You’ll always know where to find me, and you’ll always have a voice. Together, these values create a clear vision: a class united by community, strengthened by diverse perspectives, built on efficiency, and guided by transparency. I’m not running to stand in front of you—I’m running to stand with you. Vote for Ludo: One vote, countless wins. Weitao Ke Good morning, afternoon, and evening, my lovely people! I’m Weitao, the friendly, energetic, chalant FOB guy from China who greets you every time you see me. I’m running for FYCP because I can actually bring this class together—not just as a slogan, but as action. First, once elected, I’ll appoint every one of my opponents to my cabinet and split my $700 stipend evenly with them. Why? Because I know and respect them. They’re amazing people with great ideas, and they reflect the diversity of our grade (though yes—we could use more female cabinet members!). I don’t want division; I want connection. If you’re the type who goes to dining halls and orders “a little bit of everything,” you gotta rank Weitao #1 on your ballot, nah? Second, I already know many of you—not just names, but your halls, teams, classes, interests, and backgrounds. From athletes to artists, scientists to lawyers, north quad to south quad, internationals to locals—I’ve listened to and laughed with you. Connecting with diverse people is my biggest joy, something I’ve done across 40 countries (Antarctica, I’m coming for you next). I’ll be a president who actually loves the job. As your FOB president—Funniest On Ballot, Freshest On Board, or Free Office Boba—you’ll get humor, energy, and inclusiveness. Even if you don’t rank me #1, I’ll always be here to hear you out—whether it’s ranting about classes, policies, dining hall food, or the meaning of life. Let’s make this class not just connected, but unforgettable. Vote Weitao #1! Zoey Marzo #GOWITHZO Hi everyone! My name is Zoey Marzo, and I’m running to be your Freshman Class President. A little about me: I’m from Whitefish, Montana, where I spent my time captaining my tennis team, serving as student body president, and starting a student outreach group focused on making sure everyone felt like they belonged. I also volunteer with my therapy dog, Winnie, and I love baking cakes for my friends, music, and I am so excited for this upcoming season of Dancing With the Stars. At CMC, my goal is simple: to help our class feel connected and to make sure your ideas shape our year. I don’t believe one person should decide what we want as a class. That’s why I plan to keep things organized with quick surveys, open meetings, and conversations so our events and initiatives reflect you. Already, I’ve heard excitement for ideas like a “Hometown Night” party, Saturday s’mores hangouts, Taco Bell catering, class merch, and fruit at midnight snack! If elected, here are my first priorities: Take over our cmc2029 Instagram to keep everyone in the loop about events and opportunities. Also, create content to build community, like fit check Friday and student spotlights Create a grade-wide GroupMe so no one misses out, and we have one clear place for sharing information Follow through on events you want, from fun socials to study spaces to new traditions. You can count on me to stay organized, listen, and actually get things done. Freshman year is our foundation — let’s make it one where everyone feels included, supported, and proud to be part of the Class of 2029. David Yusten Jr. Class of 2029, I want to know you! I believe that what makes CMC different from other schools is our tight-knit community – I want to take that out of proportion. College needs to be more than a set of classes, preprofessional network-maxxing, and building up a resume for the future. The people we meet, the experiences that we share, and the connections that we make are absolutely vital if we want to succeed in the other aspects of school. As FYCP, I want to create spaces for this to happen; I’d hold events like karaoke, comedy nights, “the dating game”, small cooking classes in Janie’s, as well as DJ Boiler Rooms and themed parties. The biggest idea that I have is something I call FROSHFEST: A 5C wide spirit week with daily freshman events across all campuses – uniting our grade, giving clubs and organizations spaces to engage in the 5cs, and creating a tradition that revolutionizes freshman year. But beyond that, I want to use funding EXACTLY how our class wants me to. To accomplish this, there’d be survey links at every function to get immediate feedback for improvement. I want to set up “office hours” or fireside chats at Beckett’s Fireplace on a weekly basis where I can talk individually with any of my classmates. We could talk about policy, the food at Collins, or even just do homework in silence. Finally, I want every single meeting related to my presidency to be open-doors. The words of my classmates matter, and I want them to not only be heard but also implemented in the impact I make for my class. All in all, I hope you choose someone who wants to serve you. I hope you choose someone who wants to know you. Candidates who did not provide a statement will still give speeches.