Student protests at Columbia University have recently captured global attention, raising crucial questions about the motivations and historical context of such demonstrations. To understand “Why Are Students Protesting At Columbia,” it’s essential to delve into the multifaceted issues driving their actions and consider the legacy of student activism in similar movements.
Contemporary protests, like those at Columbia, often reflect deep-seated frustrations and moral convictions regarding current events. In the case of Columbia, a central issue, mirroring sentiments on campuses nationwide, is the ongoing conflict in Gaza. Students are voicing strong opposition to the war and its devastating humanitarian consequences. They are calling for their universities to divest from companies with ties to Israel, arguing that such investments make the institutions complicit in actions they deem unjust. This echoes historical movements where students mobilized against perceived injustices, demanding institutional accountability.
Looking back, the evolution of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) during the Civil Rights era offers a valuable parallel. SNCC, initially focused on grassroots activism through sit-ins and voter registration, underwent a significant shift in the mid-1960s. Stokely Carmichael’s leadership and the rise of “Black Power” marked a change in approach. While “Black Power” resonated powerfully as a slogan, its practical political program was less defined. This era highlighted a critical tension within protest movements: the balance between symbolic gestures and concrete, strategic action.
The concept of “gesture and performance as action” became prominent, yet it also sparked concern among veteran civil rights leaders like Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. King worried that some demonstrations were becoming “expressions of rivalry and rage, without constructive purpose.” James Bevel, another key figure in the movement, criticized tactics that prioritized media attention over clear political strategies. Andrew Young challenged activists to translate their militancy into tangible policy goals.
This historical introspection prompts a crucial question: Did the emphasis on performance in protest yield significant results in the long run? It becomes challenging to pinpoint major civil rights victories in the years following 1968, leading up to the election of Barack Obama, compared to the landmark achievements of the preceding years. While theatrics and drama are inherent aspects of protest – as King himself acknowledged, noting the need for “a sense of drama” during the Selma demonstrations – the risk lies in allowing the performance to overshadow the core objectives. Protests should aim to change the world, not merely to provide a stage for self-expression.
The current protests at Columbia, therefore, exist within this complex historical framework. Students are driven by outrage and grief over the events in Gaza, which many view as an atrocity. While acknowledging Israel’s right to self-defense after the Hamas massacre, the immense suffering of Palestinian civilians – tens of thousands killed, and countless more displaced and injured – is seen as unjustifiable. A key demand of the protesters is for institutions like Columbia to exert moral and financial pressure by divesting from entities supporting the conflict.
Understanding “why are students protesting at Columbia” requires recognizing the confluence of immediate outrage over Gaza, a desire for universities to take ethical stances, and the enduring questions about effective activism raised by past social movements. The challenge for these contemporary protests, like those before them, lies in channeling passionate प्रदर्शन into strategic actions that can bring about meaningful change, ensuring that the drama of protest serves a constructive purpose beyond self-performance.
