In October 2001, The Daily Pennsylvanian Editorial Board weighed in on the early beginnings of the War on Terror. As the Penn community reeled from the terror attacks of the previous month, our predecessors celebrated the Bush administration’s invasion of Afghanistan as a crucial next step in our nation’s self-defense. “Now that the period of rhetoric is over,” they wrote, “we hope [the military campaign] meets with a quick success that minimizes the loss of life.”
They had no way of knowing that the occupation of Afghanistan would endure for two decades, result in hundreds of thousands of civilian casualties, and go down as one of the worst failures in American military history. In the same sense, they were also unaware of the tragedy’s long-lasting implications for surveillance, privacy, and expression. The “period of rhetoric” they believed to be over was only just beginning — and its effects reverberate to this day throughout higher education. This week, as we approach its 25th anniversary, we reflect on Sept. 11, 2001, and examine its role in shaping the campus politics of today.
Twenty-six days after the attack, President George W. Bush declared a war on terrorism. Protests soon sprung up on campuses across the nation, and Penn students, too, embraced a new age of activism. They circulated anti-war petitions, attended local peace demonstrations, and held a three-day encampment on College Green. But as antimilitarism spread across academic settings, so too did government efforts to quell opposition to the war.
The following months saw a sharp increase in surveillance on college campuses, particularly targeting international students. The federal government initiated a complete overhaul of its tracking system for student visa holders, launching an electronic monitoring database for international students and requesting their personal information — including addresses, majors, and academic performance — from hundreds of colleges and universities. The DP reported at the time that as a result of these changes, international students experienced visa delays and delayed traveling home for fear of being unable to return.
Nationwide, intelligence operations encroached on student privacy. While the FBI enlisted the support of campus police to monitor communities of Middle Eastern students, the New York Police Department poured resources into an investigation of Muslim Student Associations at various Northeast colleges. On a daily basis, NYPD cyber-intelligence officers visited and reported information found on MSA websites. They surveilled even universities outside of New York, including Yale University and Penn.
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At the same time, higher education was experiencing a new assault on academic freedom. In the five years after 9/11, professors at various universities were sanctioned or investigated based on statements they made about the attacks or related foreign policy. Questioning government action became “unpatriotic,” and anti-war academics became targets of frenzied campaigns calling for their termination. So ensued a chilling effect on the free expression of educators.
Looking back, it is difficult not to draw parallels between the post-9/11 academic climate and the tumultuous past few years on our campus. Both eras have been defined by the same political themes — government overreach, student expression, academic freedom — but with one key difference. While Penn sat largely on the outskirts of national media attention 25 years ago, its student protesters undisciplined and institutional files unreleased, our University takes center stage today.
Since October 2023, Penn has become a focal point of convergence in our nation’s most contentious political debates. Our University has been repeatedly targeted in federal overreaches of power, subpoenaed for lists of Jewish community members and forced into adopting a new Title IX policy. Our international students have not been spared from a nationwide resurgence in immigration enforcement. Our administration has also proved complicit in the national crackdown on open expression, releasing personal files of pro-Palestinian faculty and suspending students who participated in the Gaza Solidarity Encampment. The precarious nature of free speech on our campus is visible in the “Rules and Regulations” posted on College Green and equally apparent in the continued absence of a finalized open expression policy. It is evident that 9/11’s legacy of suppression and surveillance sits with us today.
In tracing the present moment back to 9/11, we do not suggest that these questions of power and privacy originated in 2001. Both campus activism and its fervent opposition have been alive and well for centuries. The War on Terror was certainly not the first era of turmoil in higher education. But we write today because it will also surely not be the last. We take this moment, 25 years after an event that triggered a national upheaval, to assert the value of walking through our history. Of finding patterns, making connections, and considering narratives. If the past few years at Penn have taught us anything, it is that a climate of panic and rhetoric can morph quietly into a deprivation of liberty before we get a chance to react. We can only hope that with knowledge of our recent history, we will know when to sound the warning.
Editorials represent the majority view of members of The Daily Pennsylvanian Editorial Board who meet regularly to discuss issues relevant to the Penn community. This body is led by Editorial Board Chair Jack Lakis and overseen by Opinion Editor Ingrid Holmquist. It is entirely separate from the newsroom. Questions or comments should be directed to letters@thedp.com.