The professoriate’s moral apartheid

There are laws that even a caste of self-appointed saints must obey.

The utter hysteria displayed by the professoriate regime and its stormtroopers at the prospective deportation of Columbia University’s top genocidal antisemitic racist, Mahmoud Khalil, is not unexpected, but it is telling.

Putting aside the fact that it exposes the extent to which the Democratic Party is not only beholden to the regime but also an integral part of its enforcement apparatus, the most significant revelation is the very nature and structure of the regime itself.

The hysteria is the key to this revelation. The professoriate and its minions have relentlessly tried, using every available resource, to present Khalil’s genocidal racism, criminal activities, and leadership in perpetuating systemic violence against Jewish students as a civil rights matter. Khalil is alleged to have had his First Amendment right to free speech and his legal rights as a permanent resident of the United States egregiously violated.

It is self-evident that this is nonsense. Incitement to violence, terrorism, and genocide; acts of antisemitic harassment, intimidation, and assault; the occupation and destruction of private property; and support for a terrorist movement are all either illegal or grounds for deportation. Khalil is a criminal, and no nation is obligated to endure the presence of a criminal who is not even a citizen of that nation.

We must also note the absurdity of the professoriate’s hysteria. It and its stormtroopers constantly proclaim that antisemitic violence and indeed Hamas’s attempted genocide on Oct. 7 are, in one of its favorite and most ridiculous slogans, “the chickens coming home to roost.” Yet, when faced with their own chickens coming home to roost, they can do nothing but shriek and whine at the supposed injustice of it all. Sadly, poultryists lack any sense of irony.

This spectacle of world-historical hypocrisy is also compelling evidence of the professoriate regime’s fundamental bad faith. We now understand—if we didn’t already—that the professoriate operates under a two-tiered legal system. It believes there is one law for the professoriate, its minions, and those they support, and another law for everybody else.

More importantly, the professoriate and its minions clearly believe that the law they must obey is, in fact, no law at all. They have decided that they have the right to do anything they want to anyone they want. Any attempt to hold them accountable for their actions is thus, by definition, an act of oppression.

Finally, the professoriate is not only exempt from all law and thus all accountability, but anyone who might assert otherwise is subject to a law beyond the law itself. That is, opponents of the regime must obey a set of laws—which, for the most part, do not exist—that are so onerous that they neutralize any possibility of effective opposition.

Therefore, Khalil is legally permitted to commit any crime he desires, but the relevant authorities are legally prohibited from holding him accountable for any of those crimes. To say the least, this is decidedly convenient for Khalil and the regime that now attempts to portray him as a strange amalgam of Martin Luther King Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, and Jesus.

In essence, the professoriate advocates a form of moral apartheid. Their two-tiered legal system subjects the powerless majority to laws so oppressive that they destroy freedom itself, while a totalitarian minority enjoys the absolute impunity of the tyrant and the thug. The professoriate can moralize to its heart’s content, but this is a structure of raw power that operates literally beyond good and evil.

II. Martin Luther King and the law of God

This moral apartheid was constructed and justified at a specific historical moment, ironically in opposition to two forms of horrific injustice.

In many ways, the professoriate’s ethos was shaped by the traumas of Nazism. Following World War II and the revelation of the Holocaust, people began to ponder the profound implications of law and its supposedly inviolable nature. After all, the Nazis’ racist and antisemitic policies were officially enacted, granting them the authority of law.

Thus, the very concept of the “rule of law” and the extent to which it must or must not be obeyed became a central question of the post-war era. Many wondered at what point law should be judged according to higher principles of morality and justice and, if necessary, disobeyed.

In the American context, the civil rights movement brought this issue to the forefront. Just as in Nazi Germany, segregation and other racist practices in the American South were legally enforced and written into law. The Supreme Court had ruled that the principle of “separate but equal” was constitutional.

Consequently, when civil rights activists actively disrupted and defied the segregationist system, they were fully aware that they were deliberately violating the law and believed they were justified in doing so. For their part, segregationists immediately criticized the civil rights movement for its refusal to comply with the law, arguing that it posed a threat to the social order.

In response, civil rights activists acknowledged that their actions were illegal, but asserted that they were serving a higher purpose, a morality that transcended the law. They believed that by breaking unjust laws, they were establishing a new and more just social order that would ultimately serve the good.

Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. eloquently expressed this ethos in his “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” a response to fellow Christian pastors who criticized his tactics of non-violent civil disobedience.

In his letter, King explicitly addressed the dichotomy between law and a transcendent moral order. “How does one determine whether a law is just or unjust?” he asked. “A just law is a man-made code that squares with the moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law. To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas: An unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal law and natural law. Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust.”

“Let us consider a more concrete example of just and unjust laws,” he continued. “An unjust law is a code that a numerical or power majority group compels a minority group to obey but does not make binding on itself. This is difference made legal. By the same token, a just law is a code that a majority compels a minority to follow and that it is willing to follow itself. This is sameness made legal.”

There are several obvious problems with King’s assertions, and these problems would persist and challenge radical protest movements for decades. For example, the concepts of a “moral law” and a “law of God,” if one believes they exist at all, are inherently ambiguous and susceptible to manipulation. Consequently, the deliberate violation of laws deemed unjust can easily morph into the deliberate violation of laws that are just. As time progressed and King’s brand of non-violence gradually lost its influence, this problem became increasingly prominent.

Nonetheless, King was not offering vague admonitions. As evidenced by his reference to Aquinas, he was well-versed in the centuries-long contemplation of the “moral law” and “law of God,” and he worked within this venerable tradition. This gave intellectual weight and moral boundaries to his concepts of civil disobedience. King knew what he was talking about. The problem was that many of his successors did not.

King was very explicit on this point. He wrote, “Over the past few years I have consistently preached that nonviolence demands that the means we use must be as pure as the ends we seek. I have tried to make clear that it is wrong to use immoral means to attain moral ends.”

However, King did not allow this idea to justify quiescence. He stated, “But now I must affirm that it is just as wrong, or perhaps even more so, to use moral means to preserve immoral ends.” In essence, even if the authorities refrain from taking excessive measures to suppress civil disobedience, they are still morally culpable. Everyone, in other words, must obey the law of God.

That this inherently precludes a two-tiered legal system—man’s or God’s—was sadly lost on the radicals who came after.

III. Do as thou wilt…

Tragically, from the very beginning, what became the professoriate regime used a vulgar bastardization of King’s ideas to justify its transgressions.

As the civil rights movement began to meet with success, American radicals, primarily in universities, shifted their focus to other issues, mainly opposing the Vietnam War. King’s concept of disobeying unjust laws in favor of a higher moral law was absolutely essential to their efforts.

The problem was that almost all these radicals—who had already gamed out their takeover of the university system—stripped King’s ideas of their intellectual integrity. They were completely uninterested in the centuries-old exploration of what constitutes the “moral law” or “the law of God”; an exploration that King was heir to. The new radicals came to believe that a law was unjust simply because they felt it was unjust. Consequently, disobeying the law and even rejecting the concept of law outright became a matter of personal preference.

The new radicals also discarded another of King’s fundamental principles; one that, in certain ways, held even greater significance: King held that breaking the law necessitated not only a moral assessment of the law but also of the individual who chooses to violate it in the name of a higher law.

“In any nonviolent campaign, there are four basic steps: collection of the facts to determine whether injustices exist; negotiation; self-purification; and direct action,” King wrote.

In other words, breaking the law in the name of justice requires specific and personally onerous preliminary steps. One cannot simply break the law because one feels it is right to do so. One must study the situation, attempt to resolve it legally, assess one’s moral right to take illegal action, and only then take that action. This is the only way to ensure that, in transgressing man’s law, one is not also transgressing the law of God.

There are several evident issues with King’s ideas on this matter. For instance, it is not at all clear that any human being possesses the ability to make a truly sober and unbiased moral evaluation and purification of themselves, as stipulated by King’s method. Nevertheless, it is at least something. It gives all radicals pause before taking radical action and thus imposes a certain degree of ethical modesty.

It is this ethical modesty that the 1960s radicals and their heirs in the professoriate regime violently rejected. To their minds, they were and are right and that is the end of it. If they dislike something or someone, they have an absolute right to break the law to eliminate them. By definition, they serve the law of God, and any attempt to hinder them is blasphemy.

The professoriate and its minions justify this moral arrogance through their peculiar sense of self. Put simply, they consider themselves to be a caste of saints, the finest and most moral people who have ever existed in the entire history of the known universe. By definition, they are incapable of sin, so the law of God is whatever they say it is. They cannot be guilty, so they cannot be held responsible for anything they say or do, even if it is criminal or outright barbarous. Any atrocity they commit is moral, admirable, and sacred. Even at its most appalling, it is simply “the chickens coming home to roost by any means necessary,” and thus eminently justifiable.

There is a good reason the professoriate believes this. Indeed, it could hardly believe anything else. If it actually accepted King’s legacy and engaged in the moral self-purification he demanded, the professoriate could not survive for 24 hours. After all, the professoriate’s support for groups like Hamas; glorification of terrorism; apologetics for the most heinous atrocities, such as slaughtering children and babies; antisemitic incitement and violence; and numerous other crimes are generally considered by almost all societies to be not only violations of man’s law but also moral law and, indeed, the law of God.

In fact, the professoriate itself believes this, as evidenced by their constant blood libels against Israel and Jews, which always focus on precisely the crimes mentioned above. Crimes that are, ironically, gleefully supported by the professoriate as long as they are committed by the right people.

The hypocrisy inherent in this is much in evidence these days. We now know that the professoriate and its stormtroopers can certainly dish it out, but they indisputably cannot take it. That is, the minute it appears they might actually be held responsible, they explode into paroxysms of rage and self-pity.

This is the purest expression of their moral apartheid, because inherent in it is the assertion that not only man’s law but also the moral law and the law of God do not apply to them. They must not apply to them. In a strange eruption of absolute nihilism, the professoriate has decided that anyone who threatens to hold them accountable for violating the law of God is violating the law of God.

This means that the professoriate has only one creed. It does not believe that there is a law of man, a moral law, or even a law of God that it must obey. It does not even believe that “the chickens come home to roost” or that the poultry should return “by any means necessary.” It believes in one thing and one thing only. It was perhaps best expressed by Aleister Crowley’s satanic dictum: “Do what thou wilt; that is the whole of the law.”

IV. We do not have to listen to these people

It is perilous for any society when a substantial portion of its ruling class degenerates into a state of absolute nihilism. It is safe to say that no society can survive it. The professoriate regime’s rejection of both human and divine law thus poses an existential dilemma for Americans.

The most effective response to the professoriate’s moral apartheid is simply to point out that it is, in many ways, illegal. In a republic dedicated—however imperfectly—to equal justice, a two-tiered legal system in which one group can disregard the law entirely is not only unsustainable but also intolerable. The US government’s initial attempts to impose some accountability on the professoriate and its minions are therefore welcome, but Americans should ensure that these efforts are sustained and completed.

However, Americans must also undertake a kind of moral resistance to this moral apartheid. In response to the professoriate’s admonitions, I’ve often recommended a simple mantra: We do not have to listen to these people. That is, the professoriate’s pretensions to sainthood must be consciously and explicitly rejected.

It must be asserted that not only is the professoriate’s moral apartheid illegitimate and illegal but that the professoriate has no morality whatsoever. Thus, the professoriate has no right to make any moral argument whatsoever. No nihilist, after all, has the right to admonish others for their sins real or imagined.

It is equally important to reject the professoriate’s claim that, while it is subject to no law, its opponents are subject to more than the law. It must be asserted: You may cry free speech, but the principle you cite is not what is at stake. You may cry due process, but due process is being observed, whether you like the results or not. You may cry academic freedom, but academic freedom does not include the freedom to commit crimes. You may even claim the law is on your side; but if we are to take you at your word, there is no law.

This resistance, legal and moral, is essential because American society faces unavoidable questions that must be answered: Will a regime committed to nihilism and criminality, which has severely damaged American society in every aspect of life, finally be held accountable? Will it be forced to accept that there is one law for everyone, and even self-appointed saints must obey it? And will it be made to stand before a higher tribunal, the law of God by which it claims sainthood, even though it sold its soul to the devil long ago?