Australia’s universities and academics are under siege

The American government has been grilling Australian university researchers about their stance on Trump’s two-gender policy, and which countries their funding comes from, leaving many fearing for their academic freedom.

In recent weeks, Trump officials have bypassed university leaders and administrators and directly sent a 36-point questionnaire to Australians who conduct joint research with US partners in a number of fields. Australian researchers were asked to declare whether they and their institutions comply with Trump’s two-gender policy, and to confirm that they “have not received ANY funding from the PRC … Russia, Cuba, or Iran”.

Understandably, this has sent a chill down the spines of top Australian scientists and members of the wider academic community. Vicki Thomson, CEO of the directorate of the Group of Eight (Go8), responded promptly and firmly, accusing the US government of foreign interference. The Go8 comprises Australia’s leading research-intensive universities, and is consistently among the highest-ranked research institutions in the country.

While most, if not all, academics in Australian universities would rally behind Vicki Thomson on this matter, the Go8’s decision only last month to adopt a new definition of antisemitism was met with concern and criticism from some scholars. 

The new definition, now endorsed by 39 universities in Australia, states that:

Criticism of the policies and practices of the Israeli government or state is not in and of itself antisemitic. However, criticism of Israel can be antisemitic when it is grounded in harmful tropes, stereotypes or assumptions and when it calls for the elimination of the state of Israel or all Jews or when it holds Jewish individuals or communities responsible for Israel’s actions.

The intention of this decision was to combat antisemitism on Australian campuses, but some academics worry about the implications of this new definition for academic freedom. The executive committee of the Australian Historical Association, for instance, has argued this definition “places new limits on scholarly scrutiny and criticism of Israel and Zionism by Australian academics”. Some academics fear the new definition could be “weaponised” to silence their research. 

Last month, Macquarie academic Randa Abdel-Fattah had her $870,000 Australian Research Council (ARC) Future Fellowship grant suspended upon a request from Education Minister Jason Clare. This decision led Greens deputy leader and spokesperson for higher education, Mehreen Faruqi, to accuse the government of backtracking on its recent reforms aimed at ending “political interference”. Abdel-Fattah has faced “sustained criticism” for her “controversial comments” on Israel. 

Interestingly, Liberal Senator Sarah Henderson gave a clear clue to the possible reason behind Minister Clare’s decision, saying that his action came only “after sustained pressure from the Coalition and Jewish organisations, coupled with revelations in The Australian”. 

The ARC has denied that the decision had anything to do with academic freedom, saying it was instead a matter of following due auditing process. But many scholars are apparently not convinced: around 750 (and counting) academics across the nation have signed an “Open letter on academic freedom, in solidarity with Randa Abdel-Fattah”. 

The pressure posed by geopolitics on academic freedom can be both external and self-imposed. In August 2020, The Australian published an article titled “China’s great secretive science swindle”. The story listed the names and photos of more than 30 Australian researchers who were said to have been “recruited to China’s Thousand Talents Plan or another similar Chinese government recruitment program”, or to have “registered their intellectual property in China”. Nearly all of the researchers listed were of Chinese ethnicity. 

Although the ARC’s subsequent investigation into the matter found “no national security issues”, universities all over the country became wary of media exposure, justified or otherwise. Increasingly operating in a political climate of “securitisation” and heightened concerns about foreign interference, university administrators have taken it upon themselves to put in place self-monitoring mechanisms to safeguard their institutions against foreign interference. Nowadays, universities require academics to undertake regular mandatory training in order to familiarise themselves with the dos and don’ts of “best practice”.

While not explicitly mentioning China, most Australian universities now require staff to declare whether they or their close associates have links to foreign governments or government-related entities and individuals.

While non-Chinese-Australian researchers have found this exercise draconian and invasive, it has been profoundly alienating to some Chinese-Australian academics. One Sydney-based Chinese-Australian academic said it makes him extremely fearful, while a Melbourne-based Chinese-Australian academic said he felt that he was not trusted because he “originally comes from an enemy country”. More than one Chinese-Australian academic remarked to me that “it’s just like what people were subjected to during China’s Cultural Revolution”.

Professor Louise Edwards of the University of New South Wales is sceptical of such “best practice”, believing that in the current geopolitical atmosphere, politics trumps best practice in scholarship on China, and can lead to “self-censorship”: “Academics got the message, and many have duly reshaped their research agendas and moved away from collaborating with Chinese colleagues to avoid trouble and increase their chances of grant success.”

Indeed, the adoption of these “best practice” measures has led many Australian researchers, especially Chinese-Australian scientists, to abandon their collaborations with China-based academics or, in some cases, to leave Australia. 

When it comes to the China debate, fear works to induce self-censorship in two directions. For instance, some Chinese or Chinese-Australian students or staff on Australian campuses may feel too intimidated to advance a point of view that differs from China’s official position, fearing persecution from the Chinese government. Meanwhile, others who argue against de-coupling from China and instead advocate continuous engagement may fear being labelled “panda huggers”, Beijing apologists, or worse. 

The AUKUS partnership with “like-minded” nations raises foreign interference stakes even higher. Rather than being a place where the pros and cons of AUKUS are debated, Australian universities are eager not to miss the train heading for the “military-industrial complex”. On the one hand, many tertiary education managers and administrators in underfunded universities see AUKUS as a revenue-generating opportunity. Vicki Thomson was quick to concur with the Biden administration’s approach, saying Australian universities should “put tall fences around small paddocks” to protect AUKUS-related secrets — although to her credit she did qualify this by adding, “but not at the expense of broader research collaboration”.

Professor Chris Cook, emeritus professor of electrical engineering and formerly executive dean of engineering at the University of Wollongong, believes that Australia is risking very severe damage to its long-term industry competitiveness and standard of living if it breaks off collaborations with China’s massive and world-leading research activities. In response to the recent evidence of US interference in Australian universities, he offers this interpretation:

Sadly this missive from the USA is just the latest in a series of blows to Australian research and Australian researchers. Previous blows include the various sanctions on research topics, driven by USA and Australian governments, many accusations (incidentally not supported by the director-general of ASIO) that university research is often not adequately secure, and perhaps the largest long-term threat of all, which is AUKUS pillar 2, which in principle will for many years into the future veto any research deemed, however remotely, to have defence implications.

Threats to academic freedom are not limited to China-related research. In 2023, a series of articles appeared to expose how Melbourne University’s Australia India Institute — funded by the Australian government — had been pressured to project a favourable vision of India and support “propaganda-like activity favouring an authoritarian ethno-nationalist government” in India. 

While self-censorship in both the China and Gaza debates is well-known to at least some, few members of the public are aware of the threat to academic freedom over the issue of the Ukraine-Russia conflict. A senior Australian scholar specialising in Russia tells me that they are aware of Australia-based academics who feel intimidated about critiquing Ukraine or arguing for a more nuanced understanding of Russia’s aggression. Not wanting to be identified, they observe “there is definitely unspoken pressure not to step out of line and become a ‘Putinversteher’” (literally, “Putin-understander”). This, according to them, is one of the main reasons they have stopped talking publicly about Ukraine:

Nobody steps forward to correct factually-dubious statements about Putin that have become standard currency, because to say they are inaccurate is understood as a statement of political sympathy. If this is not your motive, it’s not worth the hassle. I assume the same goes for Ukraine specialists on touchy issues about Ukraine: discussing corruption or internal political divisions would be taken as undermining the war effort.

And, of course, the erosion of academic freedom is not an exclusively Australian issue; US universities are faring much worse. 

The current geopolitical environment puts academic freedom in Australia in a precarious position, and the lack of funding in the higher education sector makes this worse. For this reason, Professor Edwards’ comment to me is worth heeding:

Trump is accelerating a trend that was already evident to Australian researchers under Biden. If we take US government funding, then they dictate what we can research and who we can collaborate with. Australia needs to design its own research agenda and adequately fund it to ensure it meets our current needs. Whether it be science, technology, medicine, social science or humanities, Australians need to be reassured that the work taking place in our universities is working to advance our national and global interests.

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