On January 19, Angelica Berry sent an email to Columbia University President Nemat Shafik. Ms. Berry reported that the Russell Berry Foundation, named for her late husband, had scheduled three grant payments to Columbia.
But after months of protests on campus over the Israel-Hamas war, Berry also issued a warning.
As the foundation prepares to transfer approximately $613,000, Ms. Berry told Dr. Shafik that future donations will be based, in part, on the generosity of “you and the University's leadership to Jewish members of the Columbia community.” “It depends on evidence that appropriate measures are being taken to create a safe environment in the country.” ”
Months later, the foundation, which has donated about $86 million to Columbia over the years, doesn't like what it says. Frustrated and embarrassed by the ongoing unrest at Columbia University, the foundation stopped donating to the university late last month.
Colombia has been under siege for months, facing public demands from protesters, faculty, alumni, members of Congress and religious groups since the October 7 Hamas attack that sparked the war. . But the foundation's recommendations, included in a letter the foundation shared with The New York Times, require Columbia administrators to also privately confront donors with long-standing relationships and large sums of money at stake. It shows the pressure to become.
The Berry Foundation's suspension could cost Columbia tens of millions of dollars over the next few years. And it marks a solemn change of direction for Columbia University's foundation, which has done so much to take on both the Russ Berry Medical Pavilion and the Naomi Berry Diabetes Center.
“It's a difficult decision to get to this point where we have to say to them, 'There's a disconnect between your values and our values,'” Angelica Berry, the foundation's president, said in an interview. ” he said. The Columbia University turmoil prompted foundation leaders to “combine my husband's passion for diabetes with the foundation's larger values of pluralism, bridge building, and Jewish values that permeate our philanthropy.” “I had to weigh it up,” she said.
Columbia University spokeswoman Samantha A. Slater said in a statement that the university “values its long-standing relationship with the Russell Berry Foundation and recognizes their commitment to countless impactful diabetes initiatives over the years. Thank you for your generosity and support.”
She continued, “As we have told Foundation leaders, we want to make Columbia a community where anti-Semitism has no place and where Jewish students feel safe, valued, and can thrive. “We are committed to taking sustained and concrete action.”
As protests intensify on campuses across the country, other major donors are warning universities that future gifts are at risk. Last week, billionaire real estate mogul Barry Sternlicht ousted Brown University, which had promised to consider divestment from Israel, and suspended donations to the school. Apollo Global Management CEO Mark Rowan led a donor uprising at the University of Pennsylvania last year, and New England Patriots owner Robert K. Kraft recently announced his plans for Columbia's future. The donation was withheld.
But while the Berry Foundation's donations have often been tied to Jewish causes in Israel and the United States, Rowan said public influencers like Kraft's also weighed on its options after the first protests began. I also couldn't control Mr. Ya's intimidating attitude. Sternlicht.
In fact, what it has brought about is the quiet atmosphere that Russell Berry, who made his fortune with a company that sells products such as stuffed animals and Troll dolls, has cultivated in Colombia over the decades since he was treated there for diabetes. It was an influence. A few years before Mr. Berry, a Bronx native, died in 2002, the foundation began pouring millions of dollars into the university.
But within five weeks of the Hamas attack on Israel last October, foundation directors became alarmed by pro-Palestinian protests and rhetoric in Colombia, and some Jewish students began to believe that Colombia was a center of anti-Semitism. I believed that it was becoming a land.
The board discussed the events at the university at its Nov. 9 meeting, but concerns remained unexpressed. Scott Berry, a vice president on the board and Russell Berry's son, likened the atmosphere at the company to a collective “deep sigh.”
The next day, Columbia University suspended its chapters of Students for Justice in Palestine and Jewish Voices for Peace, emboldening foundation officials.
But the foundation still launched a private campaign to pressure the university to do more, including during a Nov. 29 meeting with Dr. Shafiq, who had just taken over as president of Columbia University in July.
Foundation executives were cautious, wary of being seen as inappropriate meddling. They refrained from calling on Colombia to adopt specific new policies or tactics, according to the record. Rather, in a strategy many higher education leaders are familiar with, they have adopted a more sophisticated plan, spelling out their vision for Columbia University in comprehensive terms, including protections from harassment that have already been declared. The idea was to encourage universities to interpret the principles.
Scott Berry wrote in an email to Dr. Shafiq on December 14th, “Given our conversations, we are committed to preventing speech and behavior that may constitute harassment and to appropriately discipline those responsible.'' I am interested in whether your administration will implement the policies it has established.” .
He added: “I look forward to leadership from Columbia University that will inspire other universities to act with moral courage in this climate of escalating hate speech.”
But in January, Berry warned Columbia that the board remained reeling. Berry, himself an alumnus of Columbia University, said the idea was “a great way to put us as funders at a time when the values of our foundation are being so severely tested by what's happening on campus.” “I wanted to make it clear that I was in an uncomfortable position,” he recalled. ”
Dr. Shafiq responded five days later, on January 24, and did not explicitly state the funding threat, but detailed efforts to ensure a “safe and respectful environment” for students, and that I positioned it as “my top priority.''
However, Colombia's predicament only deepened. By April 17, when Dr. Shafiq arrived at the Capitol to testify before a House committee, Columbia University students were openly defying the regime, gathering in a newly established protest camp on the university green.
The next day, Dr. Shafiq called on the New York City Police Department to empty its posts, thrusting the university into the center of protests that are still unfolding across the country.
The decision to bring in police outraged many on campus. However, the crackdown did not completely allay the Berry Foundation's fears. Shaken by the violent unrest on campus, the board of directors unanimously decided on April 26 to suspend the foundation's donations for the time being. Berry said the turmoil that gripped Colombia for part of April made the decision easier, although it was still very painful.
“For us, this didn't start with a camp. This is an escalation of ideological positions within the classrooms of faculty and staff, and Jewish students are not aware of what they believe or who they are. Because of this, I am unable to fully participate in university life,” Idana said. Mr. Goldberg is the foundation's chief executive.
It quickly became clear that the suspension would impact the $153,000 the foundation had earmarked for diabetes research grants. However, a permanent outage can have far more expensive consequences. The foundation, which is expected to wind down its operations in about a decade, is considering a new gift of at least $10 million.
Daniel W. Jones, former president of the University of Mississippi and dean of the university's medical school, said it is “unusual” for donors to cut support related to medical research and care. He said these causes are often considered sacrosanct and isolated from the day-to-day turmoil of major universities.
“People who were interested in supporting research rarely connected it to anything other than the research agenda,” Dr. Jones said.
Berry admitted he had a hard time choosing among his priorities. But “at some point the rubber has to hit the road,” he says. (Berry said he doesn't think the foundation's decision will disrupt patient care, an assessment shared by Colombian officials.)
He said he felt no resolve or relief after the board made the decision, only regret.
“There's a saying I've heard: 'Where you put your attention, energy flows,'” Berry said. “And the fact that we're spending so much energy on this instead of spending energy on making the world a better place is unfortunate.”
In a separate interview, Ms. Berry resisted setting clear criteria for restarting funding to Columbia.
“We don’t get to decide what happens in our educational institutions,” she said Monday. “But we will be watching to see if their actions actually rectify the situation.”
