Cornell Student Council Votes to Boycott Technion-Israel Institute

On a packed Thursday evening in March 2026, Cornell University's Student Assembly voted 17–5 to call on the administration to terminate its institutional partnership with the Technion–Israel Institute of Technology — a decision that, if implemented, could upend a $750 million campus, disrupt New York City's tech ecosystem, and mark one of the most consequential campus boycott actions in American higher education history [1][2].

The vote represents a dramatic reversal from just two years ago, when the same body rejected a broader Israel divestment resolution by a margin of 16–4 [3]. It also places Cornell at the center of a widening international movement to sever academic ties with Israeli institutions — one that has accelerated sharply since 2023 and now threatens to reshape the landscape of global research collaboration.

Inside the Meeting

The Student Assembly session was contentious from the start. Hundreds of students packed the room, many carrying signs. Multiple student organizations — including Students for Justice in Palestine at Cornell, Cornell Asian Pacific Americans for Action, the Kashmiri Cultural Alliance, and the Progressives at Cornell — had mobilized supporters to attend and advocate for passage [4].

Cornell President Michael Kotlikoff appeared before the assembly with a roughly 10-minute prepared statement, extolling the university's "long history of shared governance, dating back to the 1960s." His speech was repeatedly interrupted by shouting and laughter from the crowd. When Kotlikoff and Vice President for Student and Campus Life Ryan Lombardi eventually departed, they were met with boos [1][2].

The assembly then took up two resolutions. Resolution 55, condemning Cornell's hosting of former Israeli Foreign Minister Tzipi Livni through its "Pathways to Peace" program, passed 19–2 with three abstentions. The measure argued that platforming individuals "implicated in war crimes" created "a hostile and coercive academic environment for students" [1][5].

Resolution 61, the Technion partnership measure, proved more contentious but still passed decisively. Titled "Calling for the Termination of Cornell University's Partnership with Technion – Israel Institute of Technology While Preserving Cornell Tech," the resolution cited what sponsors described as "serious ethical concerns" and alleged "complicity in genocide," arguing that Technion's involvement in the development of military technologies violated international law and was "inconsistent with Cornell University's stated educational mission" [1][2][4].

Jeffrey Lederman '26 spoke against the resolution, warning against "blacklisting speakers or severing academic partnerships on the basis of a political litmus test" and arguing that "more speech, more dialogue, more debate" should be the answer to disagreeable viewpoints [1].

What's at Stake: The Cornell Tech Empire

The stakes of this resolution extend far beyond campus politics. Cornell Tech, the joint venture between Cornell and the Technion, represents one of the most ambitious university-driven economic development projects in American history.

Born from a 2008 initiative by then-Mayor Michael Bloomberg to attract a world-class engineering school to New York City, the Cornell-Technion partnership was selected in December 2011 from among 18 proposals in the Applied Sciences NYC competition. The partnership was founded on a $133 million gift from Irwin and Joan Jacobs, creating the Jacobs Technion-Cornell Institute [6][7].

The resulting campus on Roosevelt Island — which opened its first phase in 2017 after initially operating out of Google's Chelsea offices — has grown into a powerhouse of New York's tech economy. In fiscal year 2023–24, Cornell Tech, its alumni, and its 115 startups generated $768 million in total economic impact and supported 2,800 jobs in the city. The campus is projected to nearly double that figure to $1.5 billion in annual economic impact, supporting 7,000 jobs, by 2030 [8].

Source: Cornell Tech / HR&A Advisors

Data as of Mar 14, 2026CSV

At the start of 2026, Cornell Tech startups carry a combined enterprise value of $1.3 billion and have raised more than $500 million in venture capital funding. Seventy-five percent of Cornell Tech students who move to New York from elsewhere remain in the region, generating $390 million in annual economic output [8].

The resolution explicitly seeks to preserve Cornell Tech while severing the Technion partnership — but critics say the two are inseparable. The Jacobs Technion-Cornell Institute is the institutional backbone of the joint campus, and it remains unclear how the partnership could be unwound without fundamentally altering Cornell Tech's structure, funding, and identity.

The Technion Controversy

At the heart of the boycott campaign are allegations about the Technion's ties to Israel's military-industrial complex. Located in Haifa, the Technion is one of Israel's premier research universities and has deep connections to the Israeli defense establishment.

The university runs a specialized mechanical engineering program called Brakim, designed to train "technological pioneers in the IDF and spearhead Israel's defence establishment." Technion researchers and alumni have contributed to the development of key military technologies, including the Iron Dome missile defense system, unmanned aerial vehicles, and the D9 remote-controlled bulldozer [9][10]. The institute maintains partnerships with Israeli defense firms including Elbit Systems and Rafael Advanced Defense Systems [10].

Supporters of the boycott argue that these ties make academic collaboration with the Technion morally untenable, particularly in the context of the ongoing conflict in Gaza and the broader U.S.-Israel military campaign against Iran. Opponents counter that the Technion is a civilian academic institution whose research — like that of many American universities with defense contracts — spans a wide range of fields, and that singling it out amounts to an academic boycott with discriminatory implications.

A Resolution in Limbo

Whether the vote leads to any actual change is far from certain. The Student Assembly's resolutions are advisory — they are conveyed to the university president, who may accept or reject them. And Kotlikoff's track record suggests the Technion resolution faces an uphill battle.

Not a single Student Assembly resolution has been approved by President Kotlikoff during the current academic year. Of the 13 resolutions conveyed to his office, all were eventually acknowledged, but only 46 percent received a response within the required 30-day window. Thirty-eight percent were acknowledged between 31 and 60 days, and 15 percent took more than 61 days [11].

The Student Assembly charter mandates a 30-day response period but contains no enforcement mechanism for violations. When confronted about the delays, Kotlikoff attributed them to the sheer volume of resolutions and the difficulty of coordinating discussions "among senior leadership, which means finding time across multiple very full schedules." He received 23 resolutions and a referendum in the fall semester alone [11].

For context, one of the most notable recent rejections came in February 2026, when Kotlikoff rejected Resolution 21, a student activity fee increase, citing concerns about budget impact [11]. The precedent suggests that a resolution urging the termination of one of Cornell's flagship partnerships — one with billions of dollars in economic implications — is unlikely to be adopted without extraordinary pressure.

From Rejection to Resolution: Cornell's BDS Trajectory

The 2026 vote is remarkable in part because of how far sentiment has shifted at Cornell. In February 2024, the Student Assembly rejected a divestment resolution targeting companies "complicit in committing morally reprehensible actions" in Gaza by a lopsided 16–4 vote [3]. Cornell Hillel argued at the time that BDS resolutions had "historically deepened a climate of marginalization and intimidation of Jewish students on campus" [12].

The transformation between a 16–4 rejection and a 17–5 passage — albeit on a different but related measure — reflects a broader evolution in campus activism nationwide. The shift also coincides with a change in the student body's composition, the escalation of the Middle East conflict into a wider regional war, and the adoption of new organizing strategies by pro-Palestinian groups.

In November 2025, Cornell's graduate student union adopted its own BDS resolution supporting Palestinian resistance "by any means necessary," demanding disclosure of university finances and land holdings, and calling for divestment from entities tied to "morally reprehensible activities" [13]. The university distanced itself from the union, stating that its "opinions and perspectives expressed in the union's resolution do not represent those of Cornell University or its leadership" [13].

The National Picture

Source: Jewish Virtual Library / ADL

Data as of Mar 14, 2026CSV

Cornell's vote is part of a broader trend, though one with nuances. According to data compiled by the Jewish Virtual Library, approximately 192 BDS-related measures have been considered by student governments at more than 90 U.S. campuses since 2005. About 57 percent have been defeated. No university administration has ever divested from Israel or enacted an academic boycott based on a student government resolution [14].

Yet the movement's tactics have evolved significantly. The Anti-Defamation League documented a shift in the 2024–2025 academic year away from the highly visible tent encampments of 2024 and toward more calculated tactics focused on internal financial pressure — particularly efforts to restrict how student activity fees are used. At the University of Michigan, a student party called "Shut It Down" shut down the student government entirely by vetoing multiple budgets until the university divested [15].

Internationally, the academic boycott movement has accelerated sharply. Academic boycott incidents rose 66 percent in the six months through February 2025 compared to the six months following October 7, 2023, with approximately 500 incidents recorded. Universities in Norway, Belgium, and Spain have formally severed ties with Israeli institutions, and approval rates for EU Horizon research projects involving Israeli partners dropped 68.5 percent in 2025 [16][17].

The Mamdani Factor

Adding a layer of political complexity, newly elected New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani had previously suggested he would reassess the Cornell Tech–Technion partnership, potentially threatening the campus's presence on Roosevelt Island. During his 2025 campaign, Mamdani argued that an Israeli institution involved in developing military technologies should not receive city funding or incentives [18].

However, Mamdani walked back those remarks after his election, and Kathryn Wylde, president of the Partnership for New York City, stated that she had spoken with the mayor-elect twice and was "not aware of him ever suggesting a boycott of Cornell Technion" [19]. The political dynamics around Cornell Tech remain volatile, but the immediate threat of city-level action appears to have receded — for now.

What Comes Next

The Student Assembly's vote is symbolic but not meaningless. It represents the formal position of Cornell's undergraduate student body, adds to a growing roster of institutional BDS actions across American and European universities, and increases pressure on an administration already facing criticism for its responsiveness to student governance.

The resolution's demand to sever the Technion partnership while preserving Cornell Tech raises fundamental questions about whether such a separation is even possible — legally, financially, or operationally. The Jacobs Institute was founded specifically as a joint venture, and the $133 million founding gift was premised on the collaboration between the two institutions.

For Jewish students on campus, the vote has deepened concerns about an increasingly hostile environment. For pro-Palestinian activists, it represents a hard-won victory in a campaign that has stretched across multiple academic years and weathered significant setbacks. For the Cornell administration, it presents a test of whether shared governance means anything when the answers are inconvenient — or whether resolutions will simply continue to sit in limbo, acknowledged but never acted upon.