The week before the dinners on April 9, 10, and 11, though, a group at Berkeley called Law Students for Justice in Palestine put a profoundly disturbing poster on social media and on bulletin boards in the law-school building. no dinner with zionist chem while gaza starves, the poster declared in large letters. (Students sometimes refer to me as “Chem.”) It also included a caricature of me holding a bloody knife and fork and with what appeared to be blood around my lips—an image that evokes the horrible anti-Semitic blood libel, in which Jews are accused of killing and cannibalizing gentile children. The poster attacks me for no apparent reason other than that I am Jewish. The posters did not specify anything I personally had said or done wrong. The only stated request was that the University of California divest from Israel—a matter for the regents of the University of California, not the law school or even the Berkeley campus.....

On April 9, about 60 students came to our home for dinner. Our guests were seated at tables in our backyard. Just as they began eating, I was stunned to see the leader of Law Students for Justice in Palestine—who was among the registered guests—stand up with a microphone that she had brought, go up the steps in the yard, and begin reading a speech about the plight of the Palestinians. My wife and I immediately approached her and asked her to stop speaking and leave the premises. The protester continued. At one point, my wife attempted to take away her microphone. Repeatedly, we said to her: You are a guest in our home. Please leave.

The student insisted that she had free-speech rights. But our home is not a forum for free speech; it is our own property, and the First Amendment—which constrains the government’s power to encroach on speech on public property—does not apply at all to guests in private backyards. The dinner, which was meant to celebrate graduating students, was obviously disrupted. Even if we had held the dinner in the law-school building, no one would have had a constitutional right to disrupt the event. I have taught First Amendment law for 44 years, and as many other experts have confirmed, this is not a close question.....

Being at the center of a social-media firestorm was strange and unsettling. We received thousands of messages, many very hateful and some threatening. For days, we got death threats. An organized email campaign demanded that the regents and campus officials fire my wife and me, and another organized email campaign supported us. Amid an intensely painful sequence of events, we experienced one upside: After receiving countless supportive messages from people we have met over the course of decades, we felt like Jimmy Stewart at the end of It’s a Wonderful Life.

Overall, though, this experience has been enormously sad. It made me realize how anti-Semitism is not taken as seriously as other kinds of prejudice. If a student group had put up posters that included a racist caricature of a Black dean or played on hateful tropes about Asian American or LGBTQ people, the school would have erupted—and understandably so. But a plainly anti-Semitic poster received just a handful of complaints from Jewish staff and students.

Many people’s reaction to the incident in our yard reflected their views of what is happening in the Middle East. But it should not be that way. The dinners at our house were entirely nonpolitical; there was no program of any kind. And our university communities, along with society as a whole, will be worse off if every social interaction—including ones at people’s private homes—becomes a forum for uninvited political monologues.