On May 1st, 2024, a quiet patch of grass at UC San Diego transformed into a scene of resistance. Beneath handmade banners and clusters of tents, students organized what would become one of hundreds of Gaza Solidarity Encampments around the world. Their demand was that the university divest from corporations tied to the Israeli military’s occupation and surveillance of Palestinian territories, including Boeing, HP, and Caterpillar.

For days, the encampment grew. Students held teach-ins, vigils, and open discussions about the humanitarian crisis unfolding in Gaza. The space became a rare kind of classroom—one shaped by grief, solidarity, and political urgency. But like many such encampments across the United States, it was short-lived.

University administrators called in riot police. Officers in tactical gear tore down tents, zip-tied students and faculty, and cleared the area in a single afternoon. Sixty-four people were arrested. What began as a call for ethical investment quickly escalated into a confrontation over the boundaries of protest in higher education.

Similar crackdowns unfolded across the country. Students were suspended or expelled. Faculty members faced disciplinary measures. Universities rewrote protest policies, limited where and when students could gather, and fast-tracked conduct proceedings. Acts of solidarity, once protected as free speech, were increasingly treated as disruptions. While many Jewish students and faculty were actively involved in the encampments, accusations of antisemitism were used to justify institutional crackdowns. Critics argue that political leaders have conflated Judaism with Zionism, framing anti-Zionist protest as inherently antisemitic despite a longstanding history of Jewish opposition to Israeli state policy.

Now, more than a year later, the tents are gone, but the consequences remain. As the genocide in Gaza continues into June 2025, new federal policies have raised the stakes. International students who took part in demonstrations are now facing the threat of deportation. For many, the cost of protest is no longer academic discipline—it is forced removal from the country.

From San Diego to New York, the message is increasingly clear: in a time of mass atrocity, even peaceful protest can bring irrevocable consequences.