Published: 16 July 2025
Last updated: 16 July 2025
In response to a recent university lecture, which framed the Israel-Gaza conflict through a one-sided lens, I wrote a letter to my tutor to shed light on the Jewish-Israeli narrative and open a conversation.
Publishing this letter now, my intention is to reflect on the act of speaking out: why we must voice discomfort when narratives are excluded, and how we can do so with both compassion and conviction, even when it’s difficult.
This piece is not an attack on my university nor my tutor — who has welcomed my letter with generosity — but a call to uphold academia as a space for ethical, rigorous and plural dialogue.
Dear university tutor,
I want to thank you for an inspiring semester. As my time at university concludes, I'm glad to have taken part in three of your units, all guided by your knowledge, wisdom and passion for literature and the arts.
Thank you for providing me with an opportunity to reflect on your recent lecture. I would like to share with you some of my considerations regarding the content of your lecture, especially the current conflict in Israel-Gaza, and its relation to the limitations imposed on academic freedom and thought. I am hoping to open a conversation.
Addressing the notion of what it means to write, publish and read in the socio-political climate today, you brought to light the main provocation: What does one write against?
You spoke about writing as a form of resistance to the “pattern of the neat arc”. You highlighted that stories themselves can become too polished, too persuasive, and can obscure the messy, unfinished, contradictory nature of reality. When we ask people to tell us a story of their experience, we may be asking them to “smooth” out their perception, to make it legible in familiar terms.




