Could opening campuses abroad become a strategy for American universities seeking to escape political pressure from the White House tenant? Not so sure… Hidden costs, academic standards that are difficult to maintain, instability in host countries: these establishments are much more fragile than they appear – and sometimes simply untenable.

Under increasing pressure from the Trump administration, some major American universities are rethinking their international strategy. When Columbia University (New York) agreed in July 2025 to modify its internal governance, its disciplinary code, and its definition of antisemitism as part of an out-of-court settlement, without a court ruling or a passed law, it was much more than a dispute settlement. It set a political precedent . The New York university thus endorsed a mode of direct intervention by the federal executive, outside the parliamentary framework, which undermined university autonomy under the guise of restoring public order on campus, for example by accepting the interference of federal law enforcement in the control of international students.

The same type of threat has been targeting Harvard for some time: restrictions on international student visas, the potential blocking of federal funding, and suspicions of inaction in the face of student protests. In both cases, the most glaring and high-profile, the federal administration acted without legislation. This method “opens the way for increased federal pressure on universities,” setting a precedent that other institutions might feel compelled to follow.

Partial redeployment abroad

Such a blurring of legal boundaries is profoundly transforming a university system that was believed to be solid and protected: that of the major American research institutions. Now faced with structural instability , these universities are considering an option that would have seemed incongruous until recently: partially redeploying outside the United States, less out of conquering ambition than out of a desire for self-preservation.

From this perspective, the partial transfer abroad, a tactic for some, the beginnings of a new strategy for others, contrasts with the internationalization dynamics of past decades. Georgetown has just extended its presence in Doha for another ten years; the Illinois Institute of Technology is preparing to open a branch in Mumbai. Once driven by an ambition for expansion, these projects are now taking on a more defensive turn. It is no longer a question of growth, but of ensuring the continuity of a stable academic and scientific space, free from domestic political arbitrariness.

However, recent history suggests that this strategy should be put into perspective. The post-Brexit United Kingdom has not seen its universities massively create continental campuses. In a different context, the London School of Economics , a pioneer in internationalization, has strengthened its institutional partnerships and double degrees in France, but has ruled out plans for an offshore location. British universities have preferred to strengthen existing networks rather than deploy entire structures abroad, no doubt aware that universities do not move like businesses.

France leads with 122 campuses abroad

International campuses are often expensive, dependent, and fragile. The Global Geographies of Offshore Campuses report lists a good 487 higher education institutions located outside their home country in 2020. France leads the way with 122 campuses abroad, followed by the United States (105) and the United Kingdom (73).

The main host areas are concentrated in the Middle East and Asia: the United Arab Emirates (33 campuses, including 29 in Dubai), Singapore (19), Malaysia (17), Doha (12), and especially China (67) are among the most active hubs. For the host country, these locations are part of national strategies for academic attractiveness and upgrading in higher education. Their success is explained less by guarantees of academic freedom than by targeted economic, fiscal, and logistical incentives, as well as by the desire of local governments to position their territory as a regional educational hub.

The Gulf offers a striking contrast. For more than twenty years, the United Arab Emirates and Qatar have attracted prestigious institutions: New York University (NYU), HEC, Cornell, Georgetown. These campuses are the products of a proactive academic attractiveness policy, supported by wealthy states seeking to import scientific and symbolic capital. Saudi Arabia is now following suit, with the announcement of the opening of the first foreign campus of an American university (University of New Haven) in Riyadh by 2026, targeting 13,000 students by 2033 .

In Northeast Asia, no country—China, Hong Kong, Japan, South Korea, Singapore—has considered hosting a U.S. campus in response to recent tensions. However, several are seeking to attract affected students and doctoral candidates, particularly those from Harvard.

In Hong Kong, universities such as HKUST and City University have implemented accelerated and flexible admission procedures . Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka offer scholarships and fee waivers. These initiatives, which are part of a substitution strategy, are based on two structural factors: sustained public investment in higher education and the presence of a considerable pool of Asian scientists in American universities, facilitating transfers. As such, the Asia-Pacific region now appears to be one of the main potential beneficiaries of the climate of political uncertainty in the United States.

In the United States, the sign of a discreet shift

The map of offshore campuses reveals a historical paradox. Until recently, universities in the Global North opened campuses in countries where academic freedom was not necessarily better guaranteed (Singapore, United Arab Emirates, Malaysia, China, Qatar, etc.), but where they found administrative stability, financial incentives, and access to students from the region. This was an expansion strategy, not a retreat, as it is today, in the face of growing political uncertainty.

The idea remains marginal, uttered in hushed tones in a few ruling circles. But it is enough to signal a discreet shift: that of an institution beginning to look beyond its walls, less out of ambition than out of concern. However, the international sphere is neither a sanctuary nor a neutral space: traversed by sovereignties, rules, and norms, it can expose it to other constraints.

The Sorbonne Abu Dhabi, inaugurated in 2006, follows the opposite logic: a French university established in the Gulf region, at the invitation of the Abu Dhabi government, within a contractual and bilateral cooperation framework that reaffirms, over time, the global projection capacity of a national academic model. This initiative was not aimed at protecting a threatened academic space: on the contrary, it crystallized a strategy of assumed influence, within a controlled institutional environment.

There is nothing of the sort in current American thinking, where the logic of avoidance dominates. Yet, the dead ends of redeployment are already well known.

Fragile settlements

Campuses relocated abroad suffer from low scientific productivity, partial academic integration and forms of identity disaffiliation among expatriate teachers .

Philip G. Altbach , a leading expert on transnational higher education, has long pointed out the fragility of offshore models; British expert Nigel Healey has identified problems of governance, institutional adaptation, and faculty integration. The more recent example of India shows that many foreign campuses struggle to move beyond the status of showcases, without any real lasting contribution to local academic life or a solid pedagogical strategy.

Added to these structural limitations is a question that is rarely discussed openly, but crucial: who would pay for these new campuses relocated outside the United States? A new international campus represents a considerable investment, whether in buildings, information systems, human resources, or accreditations. Establishing a permanent site requires several hundred million dollars, not including operating costs. However, in a context of growing budgetary pressure, declining public investment in higher education, and the reterritorialization of funding, it is not easy to identify the actors—whether public, philanthropic, or private—who would be willing to support American universities outside their ecosystem.

When NYU moves to Abu Dhabi or Cornell to Doha, it does so with the massive support of a host state. This financial dependence is not without consequences. It exposes one to new constraints, often more implicit, but just as effective: control of the content taught, scientific orientation, joint selection of professors, self-censorship on certain sensitive subjects. In other words, wanting to escape one political pressure through exile can sometimes expose one to another. Displaced academic freedom is only a mirage if it relies on a funding model that is as precarious as it is politically conditioned.

Academic mobility and freedom of research

In a recent report from the Centre for Global Higher Education , sociologist Simon Marginson warns against an overly instrumental reading of academic mobility. It is not locations, but political, social, and cultural contexts that guarantee or undermine academic freedom. The major risk is the dissolution of the democratic framework that still allows universities to think, research, and teach freely.

Faced with this shift in boundaries, opening a campus abroad can only be a temporary gesture, an uncertain attempt in a world already experiencing other forms of instability.

What higher education faces today is not only the threat of national political power, but the weakening of the space where critical and shared thought can still be exercised. Some observers, such as the historian Rashid Khalidi , see this as a sign of a deeper shift: that of universities which, yielding to political pressure, are becoming “places of fear,” where speech is now conditioned by disciplinary power.

The challenge is not just to preserve freedom. It is to maintain the capacity to act intellectually, collectively, within a world that restricts the conditions for it.

Author Bio: Alessia Lefébure is a Sociologist, member of the UMR Arènes (CNRS, EHESP) at the School of Advanced Studies in Public Health (EHESP)