Intro
Pro-Palestine encampments are cropping up on college campuses all across America, made up of students of a variety of faiths and backgrounds. Even under the threat of arrest, demonstrators refuse to leave until demands are met. With concerns over anti-Semitism and the safety of Jewish students rising, it’s important to evaluate whether these protests are constructive or if they are doing more harm than good.
The Protests
The encampments popping up on campuses are in protest of the war that began between Hamas and Israel on October 7 of last year and originated on the Columbia University campus, where students vow they will not leave their spots until university administrators respond to a myriad of demands. These demands include divesting from companies with ties to Israel, removing campus policing, and reversing penalties imposed on protesting students and faculty.
Other campuses are also encountering demonstrations; by some counts nearly 200 campuses have students engaging in some form of protest. They call for their universities to not only divest from companies tied to Israel, but to also make official calls for a ceasefire between Israel and Gaza and cut ties to Israeli institutions of higher education.
Antisemitism on Campus
The camps have remained relatively peaceful, but some Jewish students report being afraid to leave their dorms due to the tension. This atmosphere of fear on both sides is nothing new: these protests fit within a larger timeline of growing complaints of anti-Semitism and Islamophobia on college campuses.
In the past couple of months, Congress has invited the administrators of various universities, including Columbia, the University of Pennsylvania, and Harvard, to investigative hearings in an attempt to validate these rumors. The failure of the presidents of UPenn and Harvard to decisively agree that calls for the genocide of Jews constituted bullying and harassment, led to their resignations soon after.
Not all Jewish students agree that their educational environment is becoming more hostile. Palestinian supporters with Jewish heritage successfully hosted a seder in the center of Columbia’s encampment, breaking matzah (traditional Passover bread) with demonstrators of all faiths. This alternative account contradicts the popular label of campuses as being “hotbeds of anti-Semitism.”
There is still plenty of evidence of hate, though. Particularly unsettling is a remark by an organizer of the Columbia rally that “Zionists don’t deserve to live.”
Additionally, after meeting with Jewish Columbia students about their safety concerns last week, House Speaker Mike Johnson held a press conference for an audience of protestors. He noted instances of pro-Palestinian activists mocking and reviling Jewish students, shouting racial slurs, and screaming at individuals wearing the Star of David. Held on the lawn in front of Columbia’s encampment, Speaker Johnson’s unreceptive audience (they attempted to drown out his words by chanting “we can’t hear you”) only emphasized the points he raised.
Opposition
The idea of Speaker Johnson’s intimate meeting with Jewish students contrasts sharply with his large, booing audience. Despite the vocal demonstrators, a few counter-protests have emerged. About 24 students arrived at the site of UCLA’s encampment a couple of days ago, blasting music and hoisting Israeli flags.
Pro-Israel marchers also lined the streets near Columbia’s campus around the same time. One individual expressed his determination to not “back down from who [he] is,” despite pressure to remain silent. The resistance remains muted, with the overwhelming message exiting campuses being an anti-Israel one.
University Response
While it appears that most students have picked a side, a number of universities are struggling to balance their commitment to free speech with the goal to minimize disruption to their course instruction. Some campuses have switched to hybrid or online formats and cancelled graduation ceremonies due to safety concerns.
Other actions are also being taken, some with questionable purpose. Shai Davidai, an outspoken Columbia professor who was born in Israel – and who is both pro-Palestine and pro-Israel – was surprised to find his ID card deactivated upon arriving at Columbia one day. He had planned to set up camp across the lawn from the main group of tents and shout the names of hostages still in Gaza, but the university cited “security reasons” as justification for his expulsion from the area.
As commencement dates loom nearer with no sign of the camps breaking up on their own, universities have raised the stakes by threatening students with suspension and legal action. In total, police have arrested hundreds of students across the U.S. However, despite the universities’ efforts, most encampments have persisted, threatening to ruin yet another significant educational experience for a cohort of students who missed their high school graduation due to COVID-19.
The universities’ failure to break up the rallies proves that this movement isn’t going anywhere anytime soon; Columbia has triggered a mass movement with little opposition. Although there are some counter-protestors, the voices of students captivated by an anti-Israel and pro-Palestinian fervor have all but drowned them out.
Demands
Central to the issue of the encampments is how productive the demonstrations and their demands are. Can universities really afford to cut ties with all Israeli companies and schools, even with businesses that affiliate with Israel in any way? Additionally, how persuasive would a university president’s call for a ceasefire be to Hamas or the Israeli government?
The protest organizers at Columbia make five demands total, but the most significant of them is the divestment stipulation:
“Divest all of Columbia’s finances, including the endowment, from companies and institutions that profit from Israeli apartheid, genocide, and occupation in Palestine.”
Columbia University Apartheid Divest
The past week, Columbia administrators have been negotiating with students over this and other requests, but appear reluctant to cede. An open letter signed by 253 full-time faculty in support of these investment captures one potential reason why:
“It would be…unprincipled to single out Israel for this sanction while maintaining ties with other nations that – unlike Israel – are undemocratic, repressive, and much less restrained in their use of force.”
“Maintaining Columbia’s Ties to Israel: A Letter Opposing Divestment”
In addition to its one-sided nature, a university-wide sanction of all things Israeli could be impractical, both in its implementation and its results. So many companies have at least some relations with Israel, a country with such close political and economic ties to the U.S., that it would be nearly impossible to cut ties with all of them.
Additionally, this isn’t the first time Columbia students have utilized divestment as a tool for resistance. After a round of student demonstrations in the 80’s, Columbia ceded to demands that it cut financial ties with companies doing business in South Africa, where there was an apartheid state. The students were successful in their immediate goal of divestment, but a study by UC economists found no effect of the stock sales on the companies’ subsequent share prices or business decisions.
Although these demands have the potential to make an important statement, the likelihood they will have a real impact on outcomes in Israel and Palestine is low. It’s a reality that student activists should take into account before they prioritize them above valuable time in school and their peers’ graduation ceremony experiences.
Are protests the best use of time?
With so much energy poured into this effort, it’s worth asking if the students’ time could be better spent elsewhere.
One college student named Alannah demonstrates that it could be. A senior at Utah’s Brigham Young University, a campus that hasn’t seen any protests yet, Alannah was completing a semester at BYU’s Jerusalem Center for Near Eastern Studies when Hamas attacked Israel on October 7.
After BYU cut the study abroad short and sent her home, Alannah returned to the area a couple of months later for a month-long service trip. As she aided Israeli families displaced by the war, gathering desperately needed donations and food, she assumed the role of volunteer instead of activist.
Alannah agrees with points raised on both sides of the Israel-Palestine issue and believes that successful protests are those that derive from a desire to work together. According to Alannah, this collaboration already has roots in Israel and Palestine, where there isn’t as much division as one might think. “[Israelis and Palestinians] are neighbors,” she explains, “they use the same parks and beaches and public spaces. Most of them don’t hate each other.”
However, she realizes that the media profits off a narrative that portrays the two sides as more polarized than they are. This vilification is particularly dangerous because for most Americans, including those in the encampments, the news is their sole source of information regarding the conflict. Since most Americans haven’t visited Israel or Palestine themselves, they form their opinions by relying exclusively on a version of the conflict that has been reduced to shock value and statistics. This narrative, devoid of humanity, contributes to mob rule and an us versus them mentality.
The result may be that the average American is more divided from his neighbor than the average Palestinian or Israeli. In addition to not being ideal, this result is simply unnecessary: we don’t need to invent division. What we do need is more people dedicated to aid instead of activism, communication instead of condemnation, and understanding instead of ultimatums.
Of course, not everyone has the means to upend their life and volunteer in a war-torn country, and to call for that would be absurd. Demonstrators on both sides may feel that this is their only way to make a difference in an important issue. People can, and should, stand up to what they view as injustice, even if it’s within their small sphere of influence.
By drawing attention to themselves, however, the protestors make their camp the center of the conversation when the refugee camps in Rafah, Jabalia, and Balata should be. They hold themselves hostage to their own impractical demands when the real victims are the hostages taken by Hamas on October 7. Their shouts cheapen the burdens of war and conflict that Israelis and Palestinians deal with every day.
Conclusion
The testimony of one Columbia student sums up the problem with the protests. Sitting in front of a wall plastered with images of the hostages taken by Hamas, she explains how the pictures keep her grounded. “[The hostages] are the center of what is happening,” she reminds the reporter. “People in Gaza, who are suffering, are the center of what’s happening…not Columbia.”
American college students get to wake up each day to a world free of war and its consequences. They get to attend school, graduate, and live a relatively stress-free life. Of course they can, and should, worry about issues like the war in Israel and Palestine, but they should do it in a way that makes it clear that they don’t see themselves as the center of the issue. Failure to do so will add even more unproductive dialogue to a conversation that is already overflowing with it.
