Opinion
Uni protests are messy, but they prove that campuses have come back to life
Alexandra Wake
Journalist and academicI don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see a peaceful protest, as I was to see RMIT students start an encampment as part of the global Students for Palestine campaign.
It’s long been a rite of passage to join a student protest – at least in the faculties where thinking about issues and history has come before business and economics.
The students, in case you missed it, are demanding that universities divest from funding and profiting from what they argue is genocide, through links and partnerships with defence firms and contractors. They have joined students across the nation in arguing it is unethical to have partnerships with defence firms, it goes against human rights, and it is therefore at odds with university policies and missions.
They have a point.
But clearly, no one here wants to see a repeat of the violent protests at universities in the United States, nor the use of antisemitic rhetoric or aggressive Zionist responses that have permeated the protests there and on some Australian campuses. All students and staff should feel physically safe at a university, and the whole point of a place of learning is to argue while being respectful of political, cultural, religious and sexual identities.
Cancelling people, physically threatening or doxing them is not OK. But uncomfortable discussions and encampments of peaceful protesters are a recognised and useful way to get change.
For that reason, I am among the many academics happy to hear the chants of protesters signalling that the campus is back to life after the bleak COVID-19 years, and filled once again with idealistic students who care deeply about something mostly beyond their own experience.
Regardless of where anyone stands on what’s happening in Palestine right now, it is at universities where bright young (and not so young) minds should be talking about these issues. There is no better way of raising attention and getting people to discuss an issue than to have it right in their eye line.
Note, I said talk, not berate or lecture. Since October 7, so much of the debate around Gaza has felt like a lecture aimed at inflaming the situation further, particularly at the expense of anyone visibly identifying as Jewish or Muslim.
One of the sad legacies of our individualistic response to COVID-19, particularly in Victoria, appears to be our inability to stop and listen to another side. University lecturers unskilled in managing poor behaviour in class have been struggling with some students, who missed years of learning about respectful debate in high school.
It is not surprising that some Jewish students and staff feel threatened. Some of the rhetoric yelled at them can sound brutal. Vigorous debate should never spill into abuse. The Israeli military’s actions in Gaza are actually brutal – more than 30,000 deaths and counting, a large proportion of those children, according to Gaza’s health ministry, and the systematic destruction of basic supports for life in a territory that is home to more than 2 million people.
In my own industry-focused university, the RMIT students have been late to the protest party, with students at both Melbourne and Monash universities joining their US counterparts weeks ago.
It’s not entirely surprising. There’s generally only a small subsection of students who can afford to protest. The students of 2024 that I observe often work multiple jobs to afford to live while studying, and those who hail from lower socio-economic groups or migrant backgrounds are largely terrified of being caught in a police or a university disciplinary action.
But the 25 tents set up on RMIT’s artificial grass lawns on Monday night signalled to the university at large that the students are back, and they want to engage in the big issues.
Understanding what’s going on in Gaza, and why it has come to this, is a conversation that takes longer than a recorded university lecture, and what better way for those long conversations to occur than around a heater on a cold autumn night. Jewish people are among the campus campers and their sympathisers. They are among the most interesting voices, because of the position from which they speak.
It’s been a long time since there were student demonstrations on campus. Before COVID-19, Students for Climate Change were making regular and noisy protests about the need for us to do things differently. I miss their reminders that we all need to do better.
I have wondered why there haven’t been some about Ukraine, particularly after reports this week that Russia has been using chemical choking agents, in violation of international laws banning their use. Maybe it’s because the atrocities are not being committed in “our” name, in that Australia and the US alliance are perceived to clearly be on the right side in that one.
Student protests do work. There is a well-known and much-celebrated history of protests in the US that have helped end wars and halt some forms of racial discrimination.
Australia’s student protest history has generally followed the US, with debates around the Vietnam War, capitalism, gender and race, as well as Indigenous issues and logging in native forests.
The closest my own university has come to a serious protest was decades ago when students, upset by the introduction of up-front university fees, smashed into a Swanston Street finance office and occupied it for 27 days.
It’s hard to know when the Palestinian encampments might disband this time. While the Students for Palestine have called for all universities globally to disclose which military contractors they work with, and to divest from them, the RMIT students have gone a step further, demanding that the Sir Lawrence Wackett Defence and Aerospace Centre close. The centre lists partnerships with firms Thales, BAE, Raytheon, the US Department of Defence, and Lockheed Martin.
For a young person concerned about defence contractors, such demands make sense. For university administrators, perhaps the link is not so clear.
There’s an old saying, attributed to various historical figures, that if you’re not a liberal at 20, you have no heart, and not a capitalist by 40, you have no brain.
Perhaps this generation of students can come up with a solution that is both heart and brain. Because every generation before them has been unable to do anything to find a sustainable long-term peaceful existence in the Middle East.
Alexandra Wake is an associate professor of journalism at RMIT. Her latest book is Transnational Broadcasting in the Indo-Pacific. The Battle for Trusted News and Information.
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