12/29/2023 Correction: a previous version of this article described the “die-in” as occurring in Harvard Yard, when it in fact occurred at Harvard Business School’s campus. The article has now been updated to properly reflect this.     

    Harvard President Claudine Gay received harsh criticism for her comments before the House Committee on Education and the Workforce on Dec. 5, where she stated that context determines whether “calling for the genocide of Jews” or other inflammatory conduct violates the student conduct policy.  Although the embattled president has apologized and retained her office, it is an open question whether Harvard’s administration is successfully balancing the code of conduct’s promises of “ freedom of speech and academic freedom, freedom from personal force and violence, and freedom of movement.”

            Since the founding of Israel and its identification with Jewish identity, the conversation about criticism of the state has been fraught.  Over the last several months, a number of bad-faith actors have intentionally elided the distinction between legitimate disapproval of Israeli policy and antisemitic vitriol. This practice has led to the deterioration of the free and open participation in political discourse; the recent story of Elom Tettey-Tamaklo and Ibrahim Bharmal, HLS 24’, is instructive. 

            On Oct. 17, 2023, activists affiliated with Harvard’s schools held a “die-in” at Harvard Business School. The event entailed protestors lying on the ground to call attention to deaths wrought from the violence in Gaza. Safety marshals oversaw the event to de-escalate potentially violent situations.  As confirmed by NBC footage published on Oct. 17, the marshals and other protestors de-escalated a minor confrontation between an intervening student (“ST”) and protestors.  Elom Tettey-Tamaklo,  a peaceful protestor, and Ibrahim Bharmal, a safety marshal, participated in this de-escalation.  Tettey-Tamaklo served as a university proctor and is in the midst of his second year as a student at the Divinity School; Bharmal is a 3L at Harvard Law School and an editor with Harvard Law Review.

            The two joined other marshals and protestors in guiding the intervening student away. Participants in the Oct. 17 event also described the conduct of Bharmal and other marshals as “nonviolent” and in preservation of a safe environment.

             In the following weeks, entities external to Harvard have parroted misinformation extensively. An Oct. 31 post on X  by Israeli LGBT activist Yuval David, which shows an angle much closer to ST, appears to be the source of the misinformation. The video shows the safety marshals guiding ST away but avoids context of ST’s prior actions. The caption reads “No Israeli flag, just a Jew” and “Jewish students in American universities are unsafe.” This presentation imputes antisemitic intent to those who tried to preserve peace.

             The notoriety of the video on X eventually led major publications to repeat the implied narrative, most notably the New York Post. A Nov. 1 article by the Post claimed pro-Palestinian students “mobbed” ST in a “disturbing” fashion. They have also published articles mischaracterizing the past of both Tettey-Tamaklo and Bharmal. Their Nov. 3 article described Tettey-Tamaklo as “assaulting” ST and accused Graduate Students 4 Palestine, a group Tettey-Tamaklo co-founded, of “[targeting] Jewish students and [celebrating] the Hamas massacre of Israelis” without evidence to support this characterization.

             Other, smaller news organizations have shown less responsibility in their coverage of the event. The Washington Examiner, for example,  described the die-in as a protest focused “on a single Jewish student who was followed around on campus” in a Nov. 2 article.

             Prior to the “die-in,” many events raised concerns about the safety of the protesters. Following Oct. 7, a truck with the faces and personal information of Harvard students had begun driving around the campus alleging that the named students had signed onto antisemitic statements. Many of those listed had not signed any statements regarding the Oct. 7 attack, and some had graduated from Harvard schools years ago. Other organizations, most notably Canary Mission, had also engaged in doxxing of students since the weekend of Oct. 7.

             For Arabs in particular, the recent murder of Wadea al-Fayoume on Oct. 14, preceding the die-in by a mere four days likely influenced the presence and protectiveness of safety marshals on Oct. 17. Additionally, those involved likely sought to avoid clashes which had occurred in other campus actions nationwide.

            Despite working to actually prevent further violence, misinformation has exposed Tettey-Tamaklo and Bharmal to extreme scrutiny, attacks on their character, and adverse effects to their professional life.  The Times of Israel published a statement by 94 alumni of Harvard Law School calling for Bharmal’s expulsion. Harvard has evicted Tettey-Tamaklo from his campus housing and relieved him of his role as an undergraduate proctor  for his actions. Both students, and possibly others,  are also allegedly facing a pending FBI investigation for their non-violent actions.

             Regardless of anyone’s feelings about the events in Gaza, the fallout from this protest has been a large-scale failure of media literacy and a dereliction of Harvard’s duty to its students. Aside from directing students to methods of protecting themselves, they have taken no affirmative steps to use its influence to protect speech on campus. The significance of their irresponsibility at this time is further highlighted by the tragic shooting of three Palestinian students wearing keffiyehs Vermont, which is being investigated as a hate crime.

             When outside actors target commentators to suppress expression they disfavor, a school that cherishes the First Amendment ought to express support for its students’ ability to express their opinions. Courage is required to protect pro-Israel and pro-Palestine students alike.  In this moment of extreme moral salience, Harvard shrinks from its mission to “educate the citizens and citizen-leaders for our society,” and permits passions untethered to fact or reason to abuse its greatest treasure.

Twelve talented 3Ls made their case before a trio of celebrated jurists and hundreds of their peers last Wednesday evening as part of the annual Harvard Law School Ames Moot Court Competition. 

The hypothetical case at bar turned on questions of constitutional and administrative law. The Patsy Takemoto Mink Memorial Team—Derek Choi, Kunal Dixit, Daniel Flesch, Phoebe Kotlikoff, Yusuke Tsuzuki, and Monica Wang—argued on behalf of the petitioners. Representing the respondents was the Judge Laurence H. Silberman Memorial Team: Max Alvarez, Eric Bush, Richard Dunn, Jessica Flores, Hayley Isenberg, and Brandon Sharp (all HLS ’24). Flesch, Wang, Isenberg, and Dunn stepped up to the podium as their teams’ designated oralists.

For both teams, Wednesday’s arguments capped countless hours of work researching their case, drafting briefs, and practicing oral arguments in the days and weeks leading up to the final.

“I’ll cherish the late nights we spent in the WCC debating ideas, refining our briefs, and preparing for oral arguments,” said Bush. 

The presiding judges included Associate Justice Sonia Sotomayor of the U.S. Supreme Court, Associate Justice Goodwin Liu of the California Supreme Court, and U.S. District Court Judge Rachel Kovner (A.B. ’01) of the Eastern District of New York. It was Justice Sotomayor’s third time as an Ames Moot Court Judge, having presided over the final round of the competition in 2011 and again in 2018. 

Following the arguments and a short deliberation, the judges returned to the bench to announce the winners: Dunn won best oralist, the Patsy Takemoto Mink Memorial Team was awarded best brief, and the Laurence H. Silberman Memorial Team won best overall team. 

“Watching the skill of all of you, for me, is inspiring,” Justice Sotomayor told both teams after announcing the winners. “You keep me doing what I do. You have to understand that my work is not easy, and too often, in recent times, it’s difficult. And I need to have my spirits lifted, too, and you do that.” 

“I would be so delighted to see any of you argue in my court,” added Justice Liu. “You have really set a very, very high bar.”

The Ames Moot Court Competition, first established in 1911 and now administered by the Board of Student Advisers, is one of the country’s most prestigious competitions for appellate brief writing and advocacy. The competition takes place in three rounds, beginning in the fall of the competitors’ 2L year and drawing entries from dozens of hopeful teams. Just two teams survive the intense Qualifying and Semifinal Rounds, advancing to the Final Round as 3Ls.

Past Ames winners include former U.S. Supreme Court Justice Harry Blackmun (A.B. ’29, L.L.B. ’32), HLS Professor Cass Sunstein (A.B. ’75, J.D. ’78), and Manhattan District Attorney Alvin Bragg (A.B. ’95, J.D. ’99). 

The competition is always stiff, but especially so this year: a record 54 teams submitted briefs in the qualifying round, or “QRound.” 

“I think that the competition is meant to inspire the entire HLS community,” said Rachel Chiu (HLS ’24), this year’s Vice President of the Ames Program. “The competition is a special tradition that the BSA is incredibly proud to administer—it has been the most meaningful undertaking that I have contributed to in my time at HLS.”

Chiu also thanked the co-chairs of the Upper-Level Ames Committee, Alex Stebbins (HLS ’24) and William Trettin (HLS ’24), and Kristen Conklin in the Dean of Students Office for their hard work behind the scenes. 

Students entered a lottery last week to obtain admission into the Ames Courtroom to watch the arguments in person (and see a Supreme Court Justice in real life). The Dean of Students Office also streamed the event live in the first-floor classrooms in Austin Hall for those who weren’t lucky enough to get a ticket. 

“As a 1L, it was definitely inspiring to watch older students argue and debate with the judges and with Justice Sotomayor,” said Annabelle Hutchinson (HLS ’26), who attended the livestream. “I definitely feel inspired to try it myself, potentially, and I’m excited for the spring Ames for the 1Ls.” 

“I thought that all the oralists had really great pace and really great managing of the back-and-forth with the justices,” said Sahra Phillips (HLS ’24). “Really impressive overall.” 

“I just wanted to come out before I leave campus,” said Abigail Hall (HLS ’24), a 3L who came to see the competition for the first time. Hall agreed the arguments were “super cool” to watch. 

The event was followed by a reception in the HLS Pub, where students and faculty gathered to celebrate the competitors. 

“Law school is generally an individual ‘sport,’ given how most of our classes are graded,” said Sharp. “Ames is a great opportunity while in law school to work together just as we will during most of our careers. I am lucky to have had the chance to be on a great team comprised of some of my best friends.”

At press time, the members of the Patsy Takemoto Mink Memorial Team could not be reached for comment. 

I’m a sixth-year associate at Sher Edling, representing governmental clients in environmental cases against corporate polluters. Prior to that I worked at Cohen Milstein, bringing class action suits against companies that sold defective products and deceived customers. 

So I’ll say it like they do in AA: My name is Paul, and I’m a litigator. 

It’s strange when I think about it. I had never had much interest in litigation, and the tropes didn’t seem to fit me. I have never described myself as someone who “likes to argue.” I don’t much care for Law and Order or Judge Judy. As a child, I never staged a mock trial with my stuffed animals, and I would roll my eyes when my dad turned on My Cousin Vinny. In fact, I only became interested in law school in the first place when I learned, during a summer internship in college, that lawyers did things other than litigate. And so I applied to law school, determined to use my training to do some good in the world (public policy of some stripe, I figured), but decidedly not to litigate.

My disinterest in litigation is evident from my transcript. I never took evidence, federal courts, advanced civil procedure, bankruptcy, or trial or appellate advocacy. I happily avoided moot court. The only clinic in which I participated was the legislative clinic, where I worked in a Senator’s office. I never interviewed with a Big Law firm (though that didn’t stop me from going to their meet and greet events, with free food and booze). My two summers were spent at non-litigating government agencies.

So I applied to law school…decidedly not to litigate

In my 3L year I applied for clerkships, partly because the work seemed interesting, partly because I wanted to buy time before landing on a more permanent job, and partly, I must confess, because that’s what everyone else seemed to be doing. I wound up in a wonderful clerkship with Judge Anne E. Thompson in the District of New jersey.

As a clerk I read many briefs and saw many lawyers present at hearings and trial, and I was struck by the wide range in quality that I saw. I saw how good advocacy—and bad advocacy—affected who went to prison, who received compensation, and who was held accountable. It would be too strong to say that I was “hooked” on litigation as a career, but I gave it real consideration for the first time.

As my clerkship was ending I started applying for jobs. These jobs were all advancing important work as I saw it, but they ran the gamut: government agencies, non-profits, political jobs, traditional lawyer roles as well as those that didn’t require a JD. A few were in litigation, and for some reason I got the most bites on those applications.

I had applied for a job in plaintiff-side antitrust litigation at Cohen Milstein. At the end of my full-day interview there, one of the partners told me that the firm also had a position open in the consumer protection practice group. We quickly arranged a meeting that day for me to speak to a partner there. He told me about the class action suits he was litigating against companies like Facebook and General Motors. It seemed like exciting and important work. I took the consumer protection job.

I credit Cohen Milstein with teaching me much of what I know about the law and legal practice. I wrote my first briefs there, took my first depositions there, and had my first oral arguments there. I learned a ton about consumer protection law, class action practice, and litigation in general. And working under five different partners, I saw the virtues of different working styles and different approaches.

After three years at Cohen Milstein, I happened to hear that Sher Edling was hiring. The firm represents state and local governments and local water districts in suits against polluting corporations. Their cases include those against DuPont and 3M, who manufactured PFAS, a family of “forever chemicals” found virtually everywhere (including the blood of humans and animals on every continent except Antarctica). The firm also sues fossil fuel companies that undertook a decades-long campaign of deception about what they knew about climate change.

I was a plaintiff-side litigator, a line of work I never would have imagined when I graduated law school five years ago

In a way, my move to Sher Edling was unsurprising and logical. I have had a long-running interest in environmental causes, going back to college and running through the Environmental Law Project in law school, so in that sense bringing lawsuits against the likes of Exxon Mobil and Monsanto feels like a return home. But I had come from the world of consumer protection, which had some but not much overlap with the environmental legal world. And more fundamentally, taking a job at Sher Edling meant that I couldn’t dismiss my time in litigation as a one-off stint. There was no escaping it now: I was a plaintiff-side litigator, a line of work I never would have imagined when I graduated law school five years ago.

As my clerkship was winding down and I was thinking about jobs, I reached out to dozens of people doing work that I found interesting. I talked to many of them on the phone about their careers. I was struck that very few of these people intended, in any meaningful sense, to get where they were. Many had started in different lines of work. They were in their present role because they happened to come across it, or because they needed a change, or because (I kid you not) the state government agency where they worked was deemed unconstitutional.

I continue to be encouraged by those conversations. They’re a reminder for me that it’s very difficult, perhaps impossible, to make long-term plans. The best one can do is to take the next step, and make that step the best one you can. Despite the fortuitous nature of their paths, the people I talked to seemed happy, in roles that fulfilled them even though they never particularly sought them out. I too, have found joy in my career by pursuing, one step at a time, the things that I found interesting and important. It’s led me somewhere I could not have imagined, but looking back I wouldn’t have done it any differently.