This is the second in a series of columns by the author dealing with divestment and Israel-Palestine.

In my last column, I predicted that the Israeli-Palestinian conflict would again become one of the hot-button campus political issues of the year. I just didn’t think it would happen quite so soon.

Last Friday, Palestinian activist and Stanford alumnus Fadi Quran was arrested in Hebron, West Bank, on charges of pushing an Israeli soldier. Video of Quran’s arrest quickly circulated on Facebook, Stanford students drafted a petition to the Israeli government protesting Quran’s detention and Robert Wright of The Atlantic publicized Quran’s arrest under the headline “The Arab Spring Comes to Israel.” The ASSU Senate quickly sprang into action, drafting a bill designed to enlist support for Quran. And as always, each and every news article triggered an avalanche of emotional comments from partisans on both sides of the issue.

The question is now a simple one: how will we react?

Over the past week, I have had the great blessing of speaking with committed activists on both sides of the conflict. And for reasons I’ll share in my next column, I’m incredibly hopeful about the future of Israeli-Palestinian relations on campus.

But before we get there, there are a host of problems that need to be addressed. Foremost among them is the problem of balance and proportionality.

Whenever divestment from Israel is brought up or Israeli policy criticized, one of the first objections always made is that other, far worse human rights violators — many of them Israel’s enemies — aren’t being criticized also. Why, the argument goes, have Stanford students advocated divestment from Israel — a relatively liberal democracy with an independent judiciary, regularly held elections and one of the most LGBT-friendly cities between Cairo and Calcutta — for six years running, while homosexual-executing Saudi Arabia, dissident-bombing Syria and election-rigging Iran go about happily un-divested?

Divestment advocates usually respond by arguing that they are under no obligation to cover every human rights violation on the face of the globe; that the United States gives a disproportionate amount of foreign aid to Israel, warranting a disproportionate amount of attention; and that advocating divestment from one nation does not preclude them from supporting divestment elsewhere.

Both arguments have merit. Certainly Israel does not get a free pass on human rights violations merely because it is a Jewish democracy, and certainly our close allies should be held to higher standards than those of the world’s worst rights violators. But it is also dangerous to ignore the very real existence of anti-Semitism, both historical and extant. Divestment, as both proponents and detractors for once agree, is largely a symbolic venture, important less for its concrete financial impact than for the powerful message it sends. We should think long and hard about what kind of symbolic message divesting only from Israeli companies would send, especially given the nasty history of programs targeted specifically at Jews.

It’s a thorny tangle, and this week’s events will only make things thornier. Here’s one suggestion to get started.

If divestment must go forward — and the fire rightfully ignited by Mr. Quran’s arrest this week suggests that it will — it must be fair and equitable. Why not start a campus-wide student divestment board, composed of representatives from groups concerned with rights violations everywhere? Tibetan rights, South Sudanese rights, Iranian rights, Dubai guest workers’ rights and of course Palestinian rights — you name it. The board would meet on a regular basis — say, once a month — and work together to formulate a united list of ethical investment requirements, which would eventually and collectively be presented to the University. Each individual rights group could otherwise continue its regular programming without change, so Tibetan rights advocates wouldn’t have to worry about the Congo, and Palestinian rights activists wouldn’t be forced to constantly campaign for Chechens. The only thing we would do collectively is divest.

It’s not fair to single out Israel for criticism, especially when far worse human rights violators abound. But it’s also not right to shield Israel, or any country, from criticism altogether. A more balanced and comprehensive model for divestment advocacy would help alleviate both concerns — and also raise overall student awareness of rights violations worldwide that too often go ignored.

But that’s not quite good enough either. Divestment is only one piece of the puzzle, if that. There are other constructive ventures and projects out there with incredible potential for good — ventures and projects on which pro-Israel and pro-Palestinian groups here at Stanford can work together. I’ll talk more about those, and why we need them, next week.

Let Miles know what you think anytime at milesu1 “at” stanford “dot” edu.