I was the first member of my family to go to university. My dad knew nothing about universities, but a great deal about human nature. “Geoffrey,” he told me as I prepared for the leap of a lifetime (Hackney to Oxford via Paddington station), “there’s one thing you’ll never learn at university, and that’s common sense. It can’t be taught. Either you’ve got it, or you haven’t.”

Dad – how right you were! And there could be no more perfect proof of this than the attempts now being made, by otherwise apparently intelligent people, to revive – through the instrumentality of the University and College Union (UCU ) – the idea of a British academic “boycott” of Israel.

Those amongst you who are boycott-watchers will know that in 2005 a certain cadre within the old Association of University Teachers managed to persuade a totally unrepresentative meeting of its council to agree to a boycott of Israeli institutions of higher education, citing various high crimes and misdemeanours of which Israel, and more especially its world-class university system, were apparently guilty. The motion was passed, but reversed after a worldwide furore and threats of legal action.

Those among you who are boycott-watchers will know that at the time I opposed attempts to reverse the motion. Sure, the boycott was illegal. It was also totally – I mean completely and utterly – unenforceable. My union, in which I had held high office, had been captured by members of a malignant clique intent on prostituting it to serve their own political ends.

This made me angry. In so doing, this clique had demonstrated that it was fully prepared to sacrifice academic freedom on the altar of personal prejudice. This made me angrier still. But I figured that the best way to fight this assault on the foundations of academic dialogue was to give the members of the clique sufficient rope to ensure they hanged themselves. Let the boycott proceed. Let it be shown to be a demonstrable nonsense as well as a breach of the law. Let the clique end up with egg on its face.

Well, the boycott motion was unlawful – had it been implemented it would have amounted to racial discrimination. A number of us (British) academics hold honorary posts at Israeli universities. To have refused (for example) to consider for publication in learned journals articles written by me simply because I am an honorary member of Bar Ilan University would have breached my human rights (as well as violating basic tenets of academic discourse).

The clique stole away to lick its wounds. Last year it presented a watered-down version of the boycott – in effect the attempt to impose a full boycott of Israeli academics and academic institutions was abandoned in favour of a propaganda campaign (paid for by the entire UCU membership) on behalf of one side only in the war between the Islamic world and the Jewish state. This year the UCU is being asked, later this month, to ensure that (and I quote) “colleagues be asked to consider the moral and political implications of educational links with Israeli institutions, and to discuss the occupation with individuals and institutions concerned, including Israeli colleagues with whom they are collaborating”.

Leaving aside for a moment the loaded word “occupied”, it seems to me that this motion illustrates perfectly the dictum of my dear old Dad. It is completely lacking in common sense. Firstly, it seeks to force – force, mind you – all UCU members to address an issue that they may not want to address. It is, in that sense, straight out of the totalitarian rulebook. Secondly, it is quite unenforceable. Suppose I, as a paid-up UCU member, choose not to “consider the moral and political implications”. Will my union membership be suspended? Do I risk expulsion? And by what means (may I ask?) will the UCU discover whether I am obeying its diktat?

Many readers of this blog will find nothing untoward in the word “occupied”. But I do. I regard large areas of Judea and Samaria, as well as Jerusalem, not as “occupied territories” but as “liberated” ones. I respect – and indeed defend – the right of any fellow academic to disagree with this view. But my right to take a different view must also be defended, and in equal measure. The boycotters do not share this liberal outlook. They want to compel me to adopt their perspective on a certain geopolitical conflict, and to make my entry into and place within the academic community dependent on my agreeing to be so compelled. This is pure fascism.

What makes this situation even sadder is the fact that some of the boycotters are leading scholars in their fields. As my Dad would say, you can be a leading scholar in your field and still be a 24-carat schlemiel.

But as my family and I are celebrating Israel’s 60th birthday I am in a generous mood. And so to each and every boycotter I wish – to use the Hebrew phrase – a refuah shlema. Get well soon!