On January 19, Angelica Berrie sent an email to Nemat Shafik, the president of Columbia University. Ms. Berrie reported that the Russell Berrie Foundation, named for her late husband, had scheduled three grant payments to Columbia.
But after months of campus protests surrounding the Israel-Hamas war, Ms. Berry also issued a warning.
As the foundation prepared to transfer nearly $613,000, Ms. Berrie told Dr. Shafik that the future offer would depend in part on “demonstrating that you and leaders across the university are taking appropriate steps to create a tolerant and safe environment for the Jewish members of the Columbia community.”
Months passed and the foundation, which has donated about $86 million to Columbia over the years, didn’t like what it saw. Frustrated and upset by the ongoing turmoil at Columbia, the foundation suspended its offer of the university late last month.
Columbia has spent months under siege, bombarded by public demands from protesters, faculty members, alumni, members of Congress and religious groups after the Oct. 7 Hamas attack that precipitated the war. But the foundation’s prompt, contained in correspondence shared with The New York Times, shows the pressures Columbia administrators have also had to deal with privately with donors, with longstanding relationships and vast sums at stake.
The suspension of the Berrie Foundation threatens to cost Columbia tens of millions of dollars in the coming years. And it represents a disappointing turn for an institution so prolific in Columbia that it took over both the Russ Berrie Medical Science Pavilion and the Naomi Berrie Diabetes Center.
“It’s a painful decision for us to come to this point where we have to say to them, ‘There’s a disconnect between your values and ours,'” Angelica Berrie, the foundation’s board chair, said in an interview. The turmoil at Columbia, she said, left foundation leaders “weighing the passion that my husband had for diabetes against our foundation’s larger values of pluralism, building bridges, and the fact that our Jewish values infuse philanthropy us”.
A Columbia spokeswoman, Samantha A. Slater, said in a statement that the university “values its long-standing relationship with the Russell Berrie Foundation and is grateful for their generosity and support of countless and impactful diabetes initiatives over the years.” ».
He added: “As we have communicated to institutional leaders, we are committed to continued, concrete action to make Columbia a community where anti-Semitism has no place and Jewish students feel safe, valued and able to thrive.”
As protests rage on college campuses across the country, other top donors have warned universities that future gifts are at risk. Last week, billionaire real estate mogul Barry Sternlicht blasted Brown University for pledging to consider divestment from Israel and suspending donations to the school. Marc Rowan, chief executive of Apollo Global Management, led a donor revolt at the University of Pennsylvania last year, and Robert K. Kraft, who owns the New England Patriots, recently put future contributions to Columbia on hold.
But as the Berrie Foundation, whose giving has often been linked to Israel and Jewish causes in the United States, considered its options after the first protests began, it had neither Mr. Kraft’s public influence nor his rebuke. Mr. Rowan or Mr. Sternlicht.
What he had was a quieter influence he had cultivated in Columbia for decades after Russell Berry, who built a fortune with a company whose products included stuffed animals and troll dolls, received diabetes care there. In the years before the Bronx-born Mr. Berrie died in 2002, the foundation began pouring millions into the university.
But within five weeks of Hamas’s attack on Israel last October, the institution’s administrators were alarmed by pro-Palestinian protests and rhetoric at Columbia, which some Jewish students believed was becoming a hub of anti-Semitism.
The council discussed the events at the university during its meeting on November 9, but kept its doubts at bay. Scott Berrie, vice-chairman of the board and son of Russell Berrie, compared the internal mood at the time to a collective “deep sigh”.
A day later, Columbia suspended its funds to Students for Justice in Palestine and Jewish Voice for Peace, a step that encouraged foundation officials.
However, the foundation still began a private campaign to pressure the university to do more, including during a Nov. 29 meeting with Dr. Shafiq, who had only taken over as Columbia’s president in July.
Foundation officials were cautious, wary of being perceived as inappropriately intrusive. They stopped short, the records show, of demanding that Columbia adopt a specific new policy or tactic. Instead, in a strategy familiar to many higher education leaders, they adopted a more nuanced plan, describing their vision for Columbia in sweeping terms and nudging the university toward their interpretations of already proclaimed principles such as protection from harassment.
“In light of our conversation, we wonder if your administration will implement the policies you have in place to prevent speech and behavior that could constitute harassment and appropriately discipline those responsible,” Scott Berrie wrote in an email to Dr. Shafik on 14 December. .
“In this escalating climate of hate speech,” he added, “we look to Columbia for leadership that will inspire other universities to act with moral courage.”
But in January, Ms. Berry, with her board still on edge, issued her warning to Columbia. Mr. Berrie, himself a Columbia graduate, recalled that the idea was to “make it clear that this is an uncomfortable position for us as funders when the values of our institution are being so severely tested by what’s happening on campus.”
Dr Shafiq responded on 24 January, five days later, making no explicit reference to the funding threat, but detailing her efforts to ensure “a safe and respectful environment” for students, which she described as “my highest priority”. .
However, Columbia’s problems were mounting. By April 17, when Dr. Shafik arrived on Capitol Hill to testify before a House committee, Columbia students were openly defying the administration and gathering at a new protest camp on the college green.
Dr. Shafiq called the New York Police Department the next day to evacuate the camp, and the university became the center of the protest movement that was still unfolding across the country.
The decision to bring in the police angered many people on campus. The crackdown, however, did not completely allay the Berrie Foundation’s fears. The board, disturbed by the vitriol on campus, unanimously decided on April 26 that the institution’s bid would be suspended for the time being. The chaos that had engulfed Columbia for part of April, Ms. Berrie said, made the decision easier, if deeply painful.
“For us, this didn’t start with the camp — this was an escalation of the faculty with their ideological positions in the classrooms, Jewish students not being able to fully participate in university life because of what they believe or who they are,” Idana said. Goldberg, the foundation’s managing director.
Immediately, the pause affects $153,000 that the foundation expected to make available for a diabetes research grant. A sustained suspension, however, could have much more costly consequences: The foundation, which is expected to cease operations in about a decade, is weighing another gift of at least $10 million.
Daniel W. Jones, a former chancellor of the University of Mississippi who previously served as dean of the medical school there, said it was “unusual” for a donor to cut off support tied to medical research and care. Such causes, he said, are often considered sacred and isolated from the day-to-day turmoil of a large university.
“Rarely have I had anyone interested in supporting research associate it with anything other than the research agenda,” Dr. Jones said.
Mr Berrie acknowledged the struggle of choosing between priorities. But, he said, “at some point, the rubber has to hit the road.” (Mr. Berrie said he did not believe the institution’s decision would disrupt patient care, an assessment shared by Columbia officials.)
After the board made its move, he said, he felt no resolve or relief — only regret.
“There’s a phrase I’ve heard that’s like, ‘Wherever your attention goes, your energy flows,'” Mr. Berrie said. “And the fact that we spend so much energy on that instead of spending energy on making the world better, it’s a pity.”
In a separate interview, Ms. Berrie resisted setting clear benchmarks for restoring Columbia’s funding.
“We cannot dictate what happens in an institution of learning,” he said Monday. “But we will watch and see if their actions will actually correct the situation.”
