Posters set up outside Carnegie Hall.
On October 23, a statement from Pomona College President Gabi Starr announced that ten students had been suspended for their participation in the October 7th occupation of Carnegie Hall. Since then, cries have rung out across the Claremont Colleges calling for the suspensions to be overturned.
Students have argued that the suspensions are an unjust suppression of free speech targeted specifically at campus organizing for Palestine. Other accusations have claimed racial profiling, human rights violations, silencing of the press, and infringement of students’ First Amendment rights.
Notably absent is any discussion of personal agency. The students invading Carnegie Hall knew they would likely face repercussions for their actions. Pomona has issued numerous statements on campus protest policy and has established its commitment to pursuing disciplinary action in response to violations. The college has frequently referred students to the Claremont Colleges Demonstration Policy, which specifically notes that “participation in a demonstration that is materially disruptive and non-peaceful or involves the substantial disorder or invasion of the rights of others… is prohibited.” The policy further establishes that the president of the college where a violation occurs may pursue disciplinary actions “including, but not limited to, provisional or summary suspension or arrest.”
In sum, Pomona laid out its policies in no uncertain terms, and President Starr affirmed that she would enforce them. What happened next?
On October 7th, protesters vandalized Carnegie Hall, destroyed property, and disrupted classes. Even disregarding the claims that these protests have been illegally fostering an antisemitic campus environment, the invasion of Carnegie Hall clearly violated the demonstration policy. It seems impossible that students at these elite liberal arts colleges were truly unaware of these violations. Surely the admissions standards of the Claremont Colleges have not sunk so far.
Students have autonomy. Those who protested on October 7th chose to do so, and in making that choice, they opened themselves up to the potential for disciplinary action. It is absurd to suggest that these suspensions blindsided students.
Despite what the demonstrators have claimed, Pomona is not attempting to “deter student organizing for Palestine and divestment” or racially profile its students (the race and financial status of the suspended students do not represent a statistically significant deviation from the demographics of the Pomona student body). The college is simply governing its private property in accordance with its policies and the First Amendment. Nonetheless, protesters still indignantly complain that their suspensions are unexpected and unjust.
More importantly, by discounting personal autonomy, the protesters are inhibiting their movement. Peacefully accepting punishment has historically been a powerful form of protest. This tactic allows protesters to demonstrate to onlookers just how much they are willing to sacrifice for their cause. However, civil disobedience only succeeds when demonstrators acknowledge and embrace the fact that they are breaking the law.
Instead, the suspended students have chosen to feign ignorance, adhering to the self-pitying claim that they have been unjustly targeted by Pomona’s administration. Had they owned up to violating college policies and embraced their suspensions, they could have demonstrated their devotion to their movement and earned sympathy for their sacrifice. This selfless choice to accept suspension could have been framed as an act of solidarity with the people in Gaza and a forceful plea for Pomona to divest. Instead, the resentful outbursts against the college’s entirely predictable response make the movement seem disorganized, performative, and weak.
Campus protests are not a new phenomenon, including at Pomona. However, past protesters have understood the importance of taking accountability for acts of civil disobedience. Reflecting on a 1968 anti-war protest in which he and his peers interrupted Air Force recruiting, Pomona alumnus Harry Stein recalled, “75 of us had squeezed into the interview room, all of us giving our names ‘for submission to men and women student judiciary councils.’” Stein and his peers voluntarily identified themselves. They expected – and welcomed – the consequences of their actions.
The Pomona anti-war movement of old valued their cause over the inconvenience of a few individuals. Sadly, this is no longer the case.
The focus on the supposed authoritarianism of the Pomona administration marks a notable shift in this protest movement. The cause of Palestinian liberation and the importance of divestment have been lost. There is little doubt that the majority of student protesters are deeply passionate about the lives of the Palestinian people, but when they redirect attention toward fabricated claims of injustice and fascism, they reveal the performative nature of their movement.
To the protesters, I would simply say: If Palestinian liberation matters above all else, set aside your victim complex and embrace these suspensions with honor.
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