In Germany, classrooms are being cleared of those blocking them; in Turin, people are working remotely.

At 00.42 yesterday, a Gmail account registered to a mysterious ‘Assemblea di Palazzo Nuovo’ sent an email to lecturers at the University of Turin, with everyone’s email addresses in plain text. A few hours earlier, the student collectives had occupied the humanities building, after spending two weeks at the Einaudi Campus. The message called for the government’s resignation, described the university as “a research laboratory for extermination” and invited the professors to a meeting in the “occupied Palazzo Nuovo”.

The tone was that of someone playing host. The facts bear this out: in Turin, whoever occupies a university building gets to keep it, and the institution relocates elsewhere, even posting updates about it on Facebook and Instagram. The sequence of events is documented. The Einaudi Campus was occupied on 26 October and, from 2 November, the university arranged for distance learning, rescheduled exams and graduation ceremonies, and sent staff to work remotely. In announcing this, it acknowledged that the occupation was preventing free access and the smooth running of academic activities. Two weeks later, the occupiers moved to Palazzo Nuovo and the university announced the same measures. Meanwhile, whilst Vice-Chancellor Prandi declared her willingness to engage in dialogue, the occupiers called for her resignation, describing online teaching as an ‘arbitrary decision’ in an email to lecturers. Indeed, why on earth should teaching take place at the university?

It is interesting to note that, around the same time, a German university dealt with a similar case. On 4 November, the Academic Senate of Kassel abolished the civil clause, which restricted research to non-military purposes, and opened the door to military research as well – which, in these times, may well be useful for defence. Around a hundred students occupied the main lecture theatre in protest. Following an attempt at negotiation and repeated calls to leave, the vice-chancellor filed a complaint for trespass; the police intervened during the night and by the following morning the lecture theatre was back in use. Forty-seven people were under investigation, and six police officers sustained minor injuries. The university justified its decision with a single figure: 17 lectures and meetings postponed or cancelled. The students spoke of an escalation, and whilst opinions remain divided on the civil liability clause, the university is pressing ahead. In other words, in Kassel, 17 missed lectures in a single lecture theatre were deemed sufficient grounds for action. In Turin, an entire campus was occupied for two weeks and a second site has been occupied since Monday, as if the problems of the cost of living, rearmament, budget cuts and the situation in Palestine could be resolved by sleeping in the university. Consequently, everything has come to a standstill: bugianén, in the ironic and contemporary sense of a term originally coined for a different purpose.

But the comparison also holds up on the merits. Kassel has abolished the civil clause; Turin, on the other hand, states that it has no framework agreements with Leonardo or Thales Alenia Space, that it has restricted the agreement with Confindustria Piemonte to civilian use only, and that it subjects research to a dual-use risk assessment. In March 2024, the Academic Senate had already withdrawn the call for proposals for scientific cooperation with Israel, and now it appears to be preparing to take a harder line. These numerous concessions have failed to prevent either the occupation or the accusation that the university is ‘a research laboratory for extermination’, while alienating it from two Turin-based companies that produce space technology and provide skilled employment. The result is a scenario of unfortunate degrowth, held hostage by a minority that condemns the violence of others without examining its own.

The University of Turin has around 80,000 students. Those taking part in the occupation represent a tiny fraction of this number, and no elected body has granted them such a mandate. Yet they are deciding ‘where’, ‘how’ and ‘whether’ lectures take place, whilst the majority of students – who pay their fees and would like to study – have no say in this matter. Then there is the position of the lecturers. The message calls on us to “stand together” with the occupiers against the university’s decision and to plan with them “the contribution the university can make to the movement”. Personally, no thanks.

Certainly, one of the duties of those who run a university is to engage in dialogue with students, including those who contest agreements with the defence industry or the cost of accommodation – issues on which discussion is legitimate. However, that dialogue should be based on one condition: that it takes place in lecture theatres open to all, with participants who have a name and a mandate. Without censorship or violence from those who wish to impose their own views on others. In Turin, this condition is lacking, and the invitation to ‘discuss’ was sent to lecturers by the occupiers, at night, via a Gmail address created by some Trojan horse who chose to become the mouthpiece of those occupying the premises – and no one stopped it.