Technically, it wasn't a debate. But, for those who saw Harvard Law Professor Alan Dershowitz take the stage to rebut former President Jimmy Carter almost immediately after Carter hurried off campus to catch a plane away from Brandeis, it sure seemed like one.Both guests were introduced to thunderous applause and spent the opening minutes of their speeches dispelling what they said were misconceptions about their own beliefs. Were it not for the fact that the two never graced the stage at the same time-an idea that had been first proposed by a University trustee and later endorsed by University President Jehuda Reinharz-listeners could have been forgiven for thinking they had come to see a debate. Carter rejected the debate idea last month, and with that rebuff came Reinharz's own: The University would not be the one inviting Carter.

The controversy leading up to Tuesday's visits by Carter and Dershowitz attracted almost as much national attention as the visits themselves. But with the dust settling and both having had their word on stage, it was easy to see the events leading up to the talks as signaling a progression-however small-in the state of Israeli-Palestinian discourse on campus, one still under intense scrutiny across the University.

By now, Brandeis is accustomed to the limelight that usually accompanies its efforts to explore the Israeli-Palestinian conflict academically. In the first of many similar moves, Reinharz himself made Brandeis a target for critics and proponents alike in 2005, when he described the soon-to-open Crown Center for Middle East Studies as an institution that would not be "pro or con anything."

But behind this pledge, along with the idea championed by Reinharz that Brandeis should serve as a focal point of debate on Israeli-Palestinian issues, lies an intriguing conflict-something of an identity crisis that many have come to see as the University's greatest philosophical challenge today.

"It's time to examine the Israeli-Palestinian discourse fully," said Prof. Gordon Fellman (SOC), who was on the committee to invite Carter, in an interview last Monday night. "[Universities] try to promote thinking, and this is a chance to really do some thinking."

In the early years of his presidency, Reinharz was praised for moving the University back toward its Jewish roots. Ties to the Jewish community were widely seen as having been weakened during the seven-year presidency of Evelyn Handler, who went as far as to propose removing Hebrew from the University's seal before resigning in 1990. With Reinharz taking the helm in 1994, traditionalists hailed the strengthening of the school's connections to the Jewish community.

"President Reinharz has been able to articulate a vision for the University that makes its ties to the Jewish community central to what the University is about," Prof. Jonathan Sarna (NEJS), a widely recognized expert on American Judaism, told The Jewish Advocate in 1997. "He glories in the University's Jewishness."

And therein lies Brandeis' dilemma. The University's mission statement dictates a commitment to open academic expression, but without the support of its older, Jewish donor base-one that can be sensitive to the tone of campus discourse on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict-continued prominence for a young institution with a small endowment is simply impossible.

That doesn't mean Reinharz has shied away from controversy, as his supporters point out. He made himself a prime target for the right-leaning Zionist Organization of America on numerous occasions last year, first by hiring a Palestinian pollster accused of ties to terrorism, and later by awarding an honorary degree to Tony Kushner, a prominent playwright criticized for his views on Israel.

But to some, efforts to bring the Palestinian voice to campus, like the partnership he formed with the Palestinian university Al-Quds, were completely overshadowed by the administration's decision last spring to remove an exhibit of several paintings by Palestinian children.

The exhibit, titled "Voices of Palestine," included Palestinian children's artwork, such as a painting of a map of Israel with a snake wrapped around it and another one depicting a Star of David formed by a coiled-up snake. It was removed by administrators in May after some charged that it was offensive, lacked context and was not a "balanced" display. But the removal, which ignited a campus uproar and was later criticized harshly by a faculty panel, and the ensuing emphasis on academic balance enraged free expression advocates and set the stage appropriately for the controversies that led up to Tuesday's talks.

"President Carter is a needed antidote to 'Voices of Palestine,'" Prof. Harry Mairson (COSI), the chair of the faculty senate, wrote in an e-mail to the Justice.

"He provides similar political content, however controversial, without being susceptible to the criticisms of the exhibit," added Mairson, a frequent advocate of open academic discourse on campus and the professor who first floated the idea of Carter speaking on campus.

As happy as many were that Carter had finally come to campus, their criticism of the presentations' format was nonetheless staunch.

"I think it's outrageous," said Fellman. "Give it time to digest Carter before running off. It's entertainment-it's not good pedagogy."

And Prof. Jytte Klausen (POL) called the format "a serious mistake."

"It's infantile to think that we couldn't have more time between Carter and Dershowitz," she said.

Even Prof. Jacob Cohen (AMST), who moderated the question-and-answer session after Dershowitz's speech and who could be seen as Fellman's ideological opposite, expressed some concern before the talks that the two would speak almost back-to-back (he said afterward that his concerns had proved unfounded, and that he was thrilled with how things had turned out).

In a reflection of some of the compromises being made in this ongoing ideological quandary, Prof. Jeffrey Abramson (POL) introduced Dershowitz only hours after acknowledging in an interview that "it might have been better if there was a different location for that event and a little more time between them."

"I hope it doesn't create the appearance that somehow, every time a controversial speaker is invited there has to be an immediate alternative," Abramson said.

Still, faculty on both ends of the spectrum acknowledged the value of letting students and faculty make such decisions, effectively shielding the University, at least to some extent, from controversies like that the one that ensued after the removal of the Palestinian art exhibit.

"In this case, this is what a group of students wanted, and I think they had the right to ask for it," Abramson said.

-Rachel Marder contributed reporting.