In a time of global climate catastrophe, endless war, and mounting social unrest, the American higher education system—ostensibly a sanctuary of ethics and enlightenment—has shown its allegiance not to peace or justice, but to power. The presidents of elite universities, their boards of trustees, and their wealthiest donors now stand exposed as key cogs in a machinery that profits from genocide, fossil fuel destruction, and war profiteering. They are not simply bystanders to global injustice; they are its enablers and its beneficiaries.
The Role of University Presidents
University presidents, many with backgrounds in business or law rather than academia, have become institutional CEOs rather than moral stewards. Their silence—or worse, their euphemistic statements—in the face of war crimes and environmental devastation reveals not neutrality but complicity. As students protest U.S.-backed wars and apartheid policies abroad, these leaders respond not with dialogue, but with surveillance, mass arrests, and the suppression of speech.
The university president today is less a defender of academic freedom and more a manager of reputational risk. In the face of genocide in Gaza or mass civilian deaths in Yemen, many presidents remain silent or offer carefully crafted non-statements that betray the moral bankruptcy at the heart of neoliberal academia. Their true constituents are not students or faculty—but the donors and trustees who demand institutional alignment with corporate and political interests.
Trustees as Enforcers of the Status Quo
University trustees are often drawn from the ruling class: hedge fund managers, defense contractors, fossil fuel executives, and venture capitalists. These are not individuals selected for their commitment to education or the common good. They are chosen precisely because of their wealth and their proximity to power.
Their presence on governing boards ensures that universities continue to invest in private equity, fossil fuels, and weapons manufacturers. They help enforce austerity for faculty and students while protecting multi-million-dollar endowments from divestment campaigns. When students call for cutting ties with Israeli defense contractors or fossil fuel companies, it is trustees who push back the hardest.
Donors as Puppeteers
Donors exert a quiet but overwhelming influence on policy, curriculum, and campus climate. Mega-donors like Stephen Schwarzman, Kenneth Griffin, and Leonard Lauder have given hundreds of millions to name buildings, shape public discourse, and suppress dissent. Often, these donations come with invisible strings—ideological conditions that shift the priorities of entire departments or shut down lines of critical inquiry.
In the case of fossil fuels, large gifts from oil and gas interests help sustain “energy centers” at top institutions, which in turn push pro-industry research and obstruct climate activism. In terms of war, donations from defense industry executives or foreign governments with poor human rights records ensure a steady normalization of militarism on campus.
Even genocide, once a line that no institution dared cross, is now rendered a matter of “complex geopolitics” by the same donors who pour money into think tanks and academic centers that sanitize ethnic cleansing and apartheid.
Genocide and the Academy
It is no longer possible to ignore the role of elite institutions in justifying or supporting genocidal policies. When universities accept grants and partnerships with governments or corporations involved in mass displacement, ethnic cleansing, or indiscriminate bombing, they become accomplices in atrocity.
During the ongoing Israeli siege of Gaza, for example, several major U.S. universities have contracts or investments tied to Israeli defense firms or U.S. arms manufacturers whose weapons are used against civilians. Students calling for divestment face violent repression, police brutality, and academic retaliation. The pursuit of justice is punished. The preservation of power is prioritized.
Fossil Fuels and the Death Economy
Despite decades of research proving the existential threat of fossil fuels, many university endowments remain deeply invested in oil, gas, and coal. The divestment movement, led primarily by students, has scored some victories—but these are often cosmetic. Institutions may pull direct holdings while maintaining exposure through private equity or index funds.
Fossil fuel interests also shape research agendas, sponsor misleading “carbon capture” or “clean energy” projects, and silence environmental whistleblowers. Professors who speak out risk losing funding. Departments that challenge fossil capital are marginalized. The truth, as always, is inconvenient.
War as a University Business Model
Finally, the war economy permeates American higher education at every level. Defense contracts support engineering departments. ROTC programs and military recruiting are embedded in campus life. Universities run weapons labs, receive funding from DARPA, and participate in Department of Defense research initiatives. The “military-academic-industrial complex” is not an abstraction—it is the everyday reality of higher ed.
Many of these contracts directly support weapons development used in current conflicts. And as with fossil fuels, the system is built to insulate the university from moral scrutiny. War is framed as “security research.” Genocide is called “a contested political issue.” Exploitation is rendered invisible through language.
Toward a Reckoning
The American university must decide: Will it continue to serve as a laundering machine for violence, fossil capital, and authoritarian control? Or can it reimagine itself as a truly democratic institution—answerable not to trustees and donors, but to the communities it serves?
That transformation will not come from the top. It will come from students occupying campus lawns, adjuncts organizing for fair wages, and the public demanding transparency and divestment. The reckoning is long overdue.
Until then, university presidents, trustees, and donors will remain what they have become: polished stewards of empire, cloaked in Ivy and moral evasion.
The Higher Education Inquirer continues to investigate the political economy of higher ed, exposing how institutions prioritize power and profit over people and planet.
