In 2010, a student boycott campaign at DePaul University electrified the campus and ignited a national firestorm, commanding media attention from the Electronic Intifada to the New York Times. One Huffington Post headline said it all: “DePaul University Sabra Hummus Ban: Students Vote in Referendum Over Ties to Israel.” Although there’s a long history of student activism at DePaul, what was groundbreaking about this campaign was its visibility.
Historically, DePaul University has remained decidedly tight-lipped regarding its investment and boycott decisions. Inquiring about DePaul’s financial behavior yields little to no result because the university refuses to divulge this information. It is about time we broke open the history of boycott that DePaul wants to keep underground.
A history of student activism
The university has not always hidden its ethical financial decisions. From 1972-1974, student supporters of the United Farm Worker’s Union (UFW) led a campaign to boycott non-union grapes and lettuce. SGA quickly endorsed the boycott, and over 4,000 students signed a petition in support. As a result, the cafeteria manager agreed to only order union lettuce. Eventually, the boycott was expanded to include grapes. In a DePaulia interview, a student activist called it “one of the quickest and most pleasant agreements to boycott lettuce ever.”
Since then, boycott movements at DePaul have been neither quick nor pleasant. At the height of South African apartheid, activists demanded that DePaul examine its endowment and divest from companies that were complicit in apartheid. As a result, the Committee on University Business Practices was formed, which carried out an investigation. But DePaul ultimately engaged in “positive investment,” investing in corporations that would supposedly support the economic advancement of Blacks, rather than divesting from those that sustained apartheid. The university stated that, “since our endowment funds are externally managed we are unable to direct where the funds are invested.”
This fact did not stop Fr. Holtschneider from implementing a divestment policy against human rights abuses in Sudan. The decision was made privately, some time between 2005-2007. It appears that Fr. Holtschneider made this decision without notable pressure from students or outside organizations, and a public statement on the decision has since been retracted. Today, traces of the verdict can only be found in elevator chatter and peripheral references in news articles.
The university has made plenty more underground boycott decisions in its history. Try asking DePaul why it does not sell any Coca-Cola products on campus, and a university representative will say that Pepsi gave them a better deal. But how many of us know that there was a vibrant, student-led boycott campaign against Coke at DePaul? The campaign, which swept the United States, targeted Coke for its violence against Colombian trade unionists and environmental policies. Yet DePaul does not cite the call to boycott, which many universities publicly upheld, when explaining its switch to Pepsi.
This doesn’t mean that all of DePaul’s financial practices are carried out arbitrarily. In the late 1990s, a vibrant anti-sweatshop movement resulted in the creation of the Licensee Code of Conduct (LCC), which oversaw socially responsible spending. And today, the Fair Business Practices Committee (FBPC) advises Fr. Holtschneider’s financial decisions.
This makes for a vibrant history of student activism. With all of its Vincentian rhetoric, it’s a history that DePaul should honor. But Holtschneider has every incentive to keep these decisions out of sight. After all, if a controversial campaign arose—another anti-apartheid one, for instance—divestment from Sudan or another such decision could be used as a reference point: If DePaul chose to divest from that, then why not divest from this too? Simply put, DePaul’s unwritten policy of hiding past boycotts excuses the university from its responsibility to make consistent ethical financial decisions, which would force them to take a stand on controversial issues.
So what if I told you that another anti-apartheid campaign is coming to DePaul?
Boycotting Israeli apartheid
March 31, 2014 marks the launch of a student movement that demands that DePaul University divest its funds from corporations that profit from Israeli human rights abuses. From the ongoing occupation and construction of the apartheid wall, to the 5,023 Palestinian political prisoners currently in Israeli prisons, and Israel’s detention camps that hold up to 30,000 African migrants, Israel’s record of racism and violence is heinous. Yet, through its mutual funds, DePaul University invests our tuition dollars in over thirteen corporations that profit from these acts and others, including at least four major weapons manufacturers.
Adding insult to injury, DePaul currently lists HP, a company notorious for its complicity in Israel’s human rights abuses, as one of its Preferred Vendors. The university has strict guidelines that prevent it from picking such corporations as Preferred Vendors. The Vendor Selection Policy states:
Socially Just – DePaul will seek business partners that share its commitment to human rights and social justice, as reflected in the Ten Principles of the United Nations Global Compact. Businesses should support and respect the protection of internationally proclaimed human rights and make sure they are not complicit in human rights abuses.
Yet HP is responsible for providing technologies and services to the Israeli Army, Israeli Prison Services (IPS), and to two of the largest settlements in the West Bank. The technology HP provides is instrumental in implementing Israel’s brutal occupation and illegal practices as they police, imprison, and inflict egregious acts of violence and racial profiling against Palestinians. Based on the Vendor Selection Policy, DePaul has a clear obligation to boycott HP and corporations like it.
But would it stand by such an act publicly? Historically, the university has been hesitant to reveal financial decisions that adhere to its very own values and guidelines.
A failure to stand against injustice
Secretly boycotting companies that commit human rights abuses fails entirely to hold those corporations accountable. When DePaul halts the sale of Coca-Cola at least in part because of its human rights record, but claims that it’s because Pepsi gave them a better offer, that doesn’t put pressure on Coca-Cola to end its deplorable activities.
In that same vein, positive investment means nothing without a boycott of the companies that commit human rights violations. Investing in both the oppressor and the oppressed only perpetuates the status quo. If we are aware that oppression is occurring and we willingly remain complicit, we actively support injustice. Neither can we maintain our investments in such companies and try to influence them as patrons through dialogue and academic discourse. The corporations we invest in will not alter their behaviors unless we take concrete action first.
Taking a stand against injustice is a responsibility that we as the DePaul community have assigned ourselves after years of struggle and student activism. Yet as an institution, DePaul refuses to represent those standards publicly.
This spring quarter, DePaul students will demand that the university divest from corporations that profit from violent and racist acts committed by Israel. This demand is entirely in line with DePaul’s policies. Hopefully, the university will uphold the call for a boycott that is coming from Palestine, just as it upheld the boycott call from California in 1973. It’s time for DePaul to take a stand in one of the foremost human rights struggles of our generation. No more silent boycotts.
Thanks to Matt Muchowski and Ben Meyer for sharing with me their original research and experiences regarding this issue. This article would not have been possible without their input and Matt’s extensive research on the history of student activism at DePaul.