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Wednesday, Jan. 8, 2025
The Emory Wheel

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Institution chains students to ground, they turn to each other in solidarity

In the eyes of many of its students and faculty, Emory University’s legacy is defined by an amalgamation of oppressive measures taken toward on-campus protests. The University continually contradicts its own mission of “apply[ing] knowledge in the service of humanity” by smothering its students’ attempts to embody that pledge through peaceful protest. Administrators themselves have weaponized harmful rhetoric to spur violence on campus, notably arrests, limiting Emory’s sham of open expression. The University is eroding its own values, revealing itself to not be a site of productive discourse, but one of hostile censorship. Its silence demonstrates the reckoning of values that protests bring in their wake.

On April 25, students watched as Emory Police Department (EPD), Atlanta Police Department (APD) and Georgia State Patrol officers dragged their friends, peers and mentors through the grass on the University Quadrangle without a shred of compassion. We watched as a hyper-militarized police force shoved down and forced out community members for a simple act of resistance: opening their mouths and advocating for Palestinian liberation. We watched as our perception of Emory as an isolated, protected center for intellectual pursuit fell apart. Still, student protestors continue to hold on to the foundations of collective organization that Emory has tried to rip from our hands by arranging memorials on the Quad, planning mutual aid drives and leading teach-ins about Emory’s complicity in violence. We must take the ground with us, caking dirt on our skin because the spirit of protest does not leave — it simply moves.

The dirt remains under students’ fingernails, lingering from April 25 and the days following, as we grasp hands in solidarity. Without sweeping demonstrations and national media attention, it may seem as though student-led protests have ebbed this semester. However, pro-Palestinian protests are still raging against institutional hostility and toward collective strength in Atlanta and around the world. We wage progress against pushback and have grown increasingly aware of the prolific violence around us, yet we find hope through the possibility of change. Emory will not stop choosing its own reputation at the cost of students’ interests — that much is clear. However, students will never be beaten into submission, and those of us who bear witness to Emory’s suppression of free expression will not allow ourselves the privilege of giving up.

April After April, Emory Refuses to Stand Up For Justice

This was not the first time Emory suppressed free speech. April 25 represents a dark spot in the University’s history. Year after year, students face risk of arrests and violence on their own campus. On April 25, 2023 — exactly one year before the pro-Palestinian encampment — APD and EPD responded to protests on Emory’s campus against Cop City, an 85-acre police training facility currently under construction in the Weelaunee Forest. On the same day in 2011, four Emory students were arrested for protesting unfair working conditions by Sodexo, the food company Emory was contracted with.

Time and time again, Emory students have fought for justice and dignity, and April after April, Emory has called the police on students in attempts to scare, divide and paralyze activism on campus. The brutalizing of students and faculty in April of this year is no different from years past. But each time we return to the Quad proves that the administration has failed. While it is terrifying to stand up for what is moral in the face of arrest or physical violence, that danger should serve as a reminder that student activism has nearly always been on the right side of history.

Emory administrative officials’ actions reveal an ugly truth: They are vastly against student expression and advocacy for those whom the world maltreats. The Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) Georgia chapter filed a complaint against Emory on April 5 for fostering a “hostile” and “anti-Palestinian environment,” which they claimed violated Title VI of the Civil Rights Act. Later that month, the U.S. Department of Education’s Office for Civil rights launched an investigation into the complaint.

In a meeting with Students for Justice in Palestine (ESJP) members, Goizueta Business School Senior Associate Dean Andrea Hershatter said that students were associating themselves with “terrorism” when they shouted “Free Palestine,” according to the complaint. Hershatter, representing Emory and its administration, disgracefully implied that when students advocate for Palestinian rights, they are terrorists themselves. She, herself, is invoking xenophobic rhetoric and weaponizing it against students.

University President Gregory Fenves has also made statements that many students and faculty members viewed as Islamophobic for ignoring that Palestinians have been dying in horrifying numbers under Israel’s occupation since the onset of the ethnic cleansing in Gaza. In communications, Fenves called protest slogans “antisemitic” and the protestors themselves “largely not affiliated with Emory.” Both these inaccurate statements demonstrate Fenves’ lack of support for all students and highlight the institutional bias that runs rampant at Emory. According to his own messaging, he deems any criticism of the State of Israel antisemitic and any pro-Palestinian students as mere outsiders to the institution as a whole.

The University’s response to the April protests has outraged faculty, staff and students alike. As evidenced by no confidence votes by faculty and students, one sentiment rings true: If Fenves cannot offer support to students fighting for justice, then he cannot be trusted to lead our institution into the future.

“I know so well how central student protest movements have been to the history of higher education, generally, in the United States and also to the particular history at Emory,” said Katherine Rosenblatt, who serves as a Jay and Leslie Cohen assistant professor of religion and Jewish studies. “Many of the changes that have happened [at Emory] … [took place] because social movements on campus held the University to the promise of academia. These spaces can be places that reflect hopes for achieving equality, equity, democracy and representation.”

Emory as a Lesson in Southern Institutional Violence

To understand how the Free Palestine and Stop Cop City movements can retain longevity on campus, look beyond Emory to a wider history of protests in Atlanta. Georgia’s rich history of civil rights activism should be used as energy to further defend the fight for justice. The reason students can stand so loudly today is because of the brave souls who have come before us — especially those in the South who have fought against extreme hardship and violence. The Civil Right Movement is just one example of the importance of resisting violent institutions and finding ways to fight in the most turbulent times.

Georgia’s history of violence during the Civil Rights Movement has defined the way protests occur in Atlanta and at Emory. Students take inspiration from the demonstrations of the past, learning to be creative in their organizing against oppression and violence. The histories of the city and the University are intrinsically connected, but regardless of this interrelation, there still remains a gap in the experiences of people living at Emory versus those living in Atlanta.

People who live outside the relative safety of Emory have faced the brunt of the institutional armament of Atlanta’s police force. APD is known for their unabashed displays of violence toward the communities they claim to serve. Not only does the APD have a larger budget allocated toward policing than cities of a similar size in the United States, but it also scores worse than 71% of cities of a similar size with regard to police and racial violence.

This violence APD officers released on students on April 25 is deeply ingrained in the department itself: Under the Georgia International Law Enforcement Exchange (GILEE) program, the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) —  the same organization students were protesting against— trains the APD in militarization strategies. Former APD Chief Rodney Bryant stated that learning from the IDF, which is also known as the Israel Occupying Forces, through GILEE was “inimitable” and provided a “training of a lifetime.” However, public safety for citizens cannot be balanced through admiration for an oppressive and genocidal regime. As Emory Students for Socialism (SFS) organizer Zachary Hammond (23Ox, 25C) said, “The language of defense [from IDF] is very disingenuous … people living under occupation have a right to resist and retaliate.” The same is true for APD — citizens of Atlanta cannot be expected to thrive in the city without protection from the police. 

As a Southern, private university, Emory prides itself on the legacy of Southern activism while avoiding the growing pains and discomfort that often accompanies the fight for substantial progress. Instead, the University prioritizes its own comfort and does not encourage protests on campus with the knowledge that demonstrations are historically the morally correct thing to do. 

“It is important to recognize that [Emory] students hold … a very privileged position,” said student organizer and protestor Akshay Padala (26C). Emory is often criticized as a “bubble,” and Padala’s point highlights the divide that both the University and many of its community members perpetuate. While Atlanta’s population is nearly 50% Black, that fact is not reflected in Emory’s own Black student population, which hovers at around 13% per class

Student activists become stronger when they view themselves in the larger context of the community surrounding them. Fenves’ statement implying that there were “outside agitators” fueling the protests on campus was not true — and he even later admitted that the claims were “not fully accurate.” Ameer Alnasser (25Ox) believes that institutions use rhetoric like “outside agitator” to divide and scare organizers on college campuses. If a protestor is an “outside agitator,” their words suddenly “don’t have meaning anymore,” Alnasser explained. 

Emory activists, students, faculty and staff must not feed into this divisive rhetoric. We must rely on and welcome community members when protesting and turn toward Atlanta when our local institutions fail. Struggles against police brutality and imperialism are never focused on one geographical location, but rather, are all-encompassing.

The Interconnected Struggle For Liberation

While the fall semester hasn’t seen any encampments or arrests, the fight for liberation is still alive in student activist groups. In the past two years, three student groups have become salient voices for the student body: Emory Stop Cop City (ESCC), ESJP and SFS. ESCC began in 2022 in response to the building of Cop City. ESJP grew active in the wake of Oct. 7, 2023, with an influx of student representation following the attention shed on Palestine. This spring, these groups stood in solidarity during the pro-Palestinian protests.

This unity is a demonstration of identity politics on campus, showing that, for these groups, liberation is connected across all spectrums of identity. The struggle for Palestinian liberation is connected with the struggle against police brutality because imperialist principles of violence and oppression perpetuate both of them.

No identity can exist in isolation from another, especially in the context of protest for progression. For ESCC activists, the politics of protecting the livelihood of Black Atlanta residents and Muscogee Creek people cannot be separated from the GILEE program, which has allowed for the over-policing of those same communities. For SFS members, the very tenets of socialism call them to consider everyone’s oppression as their own and to push toward a place of equity. Fannie Lou Hamer, a Black activist during the Civil Rights Movement, once stated that “nobody’s free till everybody’s free,” which takes a certain degree of accountability to reckon with. When the University evades accountability and victimizes police officers in full tactical gear, it is up to the students to get up, get involved and hold our own.

While Injustices Continue, Student Activism Will Move, But It Won’t End

For some people at Emory, April’s protests were only a moment in time, but for others, they marked time stopping and weighing heavy on their souls. In fact, some arrestees of the April 25 protest are still plagued with charges of criminal trespass and other misdemeanor crimes. Fading headlines and feigned returns to normalcy do not eliminate the hardship faced by these community members.

During an October interview with The Emory Wheel, Fenves refused to clearly state his stance on whether or not the charges that protestors face should be dropped, choosing to pin it on the DeKalb County solicitor general instead. Fenves, along with other complicit Emory administrators, should be ashamed. Emory cannot claim to be a place where open and free dialogue is allowed if students are having to fight the justice system on their own. The administration refuses to publicly advocate for its students and, as a result, protests on campus have been quieter compared to last year. Students have instead decided  to turn outward to groups like the Party for Socialism and Liberation in Atlanta, where the Emory administration will not have such a controlling hand in their every move. Clearly, due to unemotional policies and apathetic University statements, not every Emory community member has the privilege or freedom of protesting without genuine fear for their safety. As Padala said, “It’s hard to convince students at a university that police brutality is a real issue because we don’t really face it very much.” Except for, of course, when students’ supposed mentors decide to call the police on them for fighting injustice.

While the protests over the last two years have served as a point of radicalization for members of Emory’s student body, we cannot sit in the theory of change without action. We cannot simply say we want change without assuming an active role in affecting it and encouraging those around us to get involved as well. Students should not mobilize without understanding that Emory is not at the center of the world. 

Silence and Inaction Glare Through Institutional Shadows and Chains

The quieting of action on campus should not be confused for inaction, but rather a response to the trauma some students faced. While students were sitting in a jail cell with the burning of pepper bullets in their eyes or standing fear-stricken on the Quad in the face of a wall of police officers, the University administration remained largely silent about its shortcomings. Students are supposed to feel like the University is protecting them, but the opposite is true. The Student Government Association has done little this semester to support its peers or solicit feedback on the increasing rigidity of the University’s Respect for Open Expression Policy.

On Aug. 27, Fenves implemented an addendum to the open expression policy without input or review by the University Senate. Fenves insinuated that the University Senate was too inefficient to effectively make adjustments, despite the fact that the Senate is usually consulted when the policy is changed. This was an obvious power grab by Fenves — he wanted to show that, despite 73.5% of student voters and 75.05% of Emory College of Arts and Sciences faculty voters stating they had no confidence in his ability to serve as president last spring, he is still the authoritarian ruler. Together, the administration, specifically Fenves, is crippling students and aims to run this institution into a place parallel to a militant state by using police force to crack down on dissenters. Thankfully, the Senate’s Committee for Open Expression finished its review of the addendum to the open expression policy, which stated that the amendment placed “undue burdens on the expressive rights of community members.” Of course, this is absolutely true — Fenves’ actions have demonstrated a desire to prohibit controversial protests on the campus altogether.

“So that was the decision I made, and I don't want to repeat it, and I hope we don’t repeat it at Emory,” Fenves said when the Wheel asked him if he would call the police again on students constructing an encampment. He demonstrated no remorse for the actions of the police at his command or for the danger students were put in. Any member of the administration, any direct subordinate of Fenves or any tenured professor who has not loudly voiced their shame for the president does not stand for the sanctity of student success, expression or protection.

“We stand with our students, and we do so publicly,” Rosenblatt said. “We support them in their right to protests, even if the content of the protests is contested.”

Students have prevailed so far because of their own ability to pick themselves and their friends up off the ground after Emory knocks them down. The University claims its values are “justice, advocacy, and academic excellence.” Yet, justice for all has been stomped into the dirt, administrators only permit advocacy in measures within their comfort zones, and academic excellence is trapped in a vacuum, undermining the practice of academics in the real world. The prohibitions on free speech place restrictions on productive academic dialogue and discourse.

Rising Up On Shaky Ground

Fenves has claimed that the protests impeded learning at Emory. Rosenblatt, along with other professors, has shared an opposing perspective that professors’ engagement in discourse about on-campus protest does not have to inhibit learning.

What impacts professors’ ability to do their jobs is the fear of retaliation that inhibits classrooms from being a space where people can learn new ideas. “Standing publicly and staking a claim in particular conversations will impact my ability to do my job in the classroom,” Rosenblatt said. According to Rosenblatt, faculty should play a key role in protesting and protecting students across the political spectrum — yet, the institution doesn’t appear to feel similarly. For many professors, like Rosenblatt, protest can act as an impetus for new and necessary conversations.

Students should not shoulder the burden of building a campus where their voices are uplifted, protected and encouraged alone. However, that is where the burden now rests, and it is a grim reality that we, as students, must wake up and face every day. Our power to make change seems to be diminishing by the second, especially in the face of President-elect Donald Trump returning to the White House. Fighting for true open expression is hard, messy and slow, but it is also worthwhile, rewarding and beautiful. The fight must be fought. We cannot passively allow the structures of exclusion and repression to continue to dominate our world.

We will not stand idly, allowing the administration to continually direct violence at us. Students must see the truth and power of resistance. If our university cannot make good on its promises to serve humanity, then the burden becomes solely ours: It is the time to use the knowledge we have gained and refuse passivity in our story.

Contact Lola McGuire at lkmcgui@emory.edu and Carly Aikens at caikens@emory.edu