Protest more, protest harder

Columbia was supposed to be a school that protested. When I decided to enroll almost three years ago, part of what attracted me to the University was its history of political action. From 1968, to Ahmadinejad’s speech, to the Core and Manhattanville hunger strikes, it felt like Columbia might be a place where, from time to time, the students took to the streets to change their world. I liked this. It indicated that Columbia’s students paid attention and, far more importantly, that they cared enough to inconvenience themselves for a cause. Sadly, the University has not lived up to that promise.

The aim of any political action is to express an opinion. The involved parties hope that their actions (marching, boycotting, striking) will raise the profile of their issue and change the status quo. By sacrificing time and effort, by interfering with regular routines, protesters hope to demonstrate dedication to their cause and, by extension, the importance of the cause itself. Participants in the Arab Spring understood this. Egyptians in Tahrir Square put their lives on the line and attacked Mubarak’s state security apparatus directly. They sacrificed and interfered, going all in with these twin currencies of political action. And, in the end, they brought down a dictator.

Columbia students, on the other hand, don’t seem to be interested in sacrificing or interfering with much of anything. A week and a half ago, America bore witness to what has to have been one of the laziest protest movements in history. The adversary was SOPA/PIPA, a twin-headed anti-piracy hydra that presented an existential threat to the free Internet that all right-thinking Columbians know and love. Tensions were high and, on Jan. 18, the country’s tech-savvy youth united to sign online petitions, call busy congressional phone lines, and look at blacked-out websites. Such a sacrifice, to go without the Google logo for 24 hours! Such a statement, to type one’s name into an online form! How much the Senate must have suffered, removed from Reddit for half a day! Fortunately, the protesters had the backing of a consortium of massive Internet companies and their legions of lobbyists. SOPA and PIPA were delayed indefinitely—but you can be sure they will be back. ProPublica reports that, at the time of its forced hibernation, PIPA had 37 opponents (15 only “leaning no”) and 31 supporters, with a third of the Senate’s opinion unknown. Yet many of my fellow Columbians celebrated as if their team had just won the World Series.

During my two and a half years here, the most impressive student protests I’ve seen were those during Israeli Apartheid Week and their counterprotests. Both parties seemed to have sacrificed at least a modicum of time building their mock wall and poster exhibit, and their presence in the middle of campus did interfere with traffic a little. But these actions all seem rather pathetic in comparison to the protests I had been accustomed to in high school. Pasadena High School’s 2,200 students may have had a lower mean SAT score, but they understood political action in a way that Columbia students do not. When draconian immigration legislation was being considered in 2006, about half my school attempted to walk out. I recall that authorities closed the gates after a few hundred had escaped, but the remaining students roved about campus, knocking over benches and lighting trash cans on fire. Combined with actions at many other regional schools, the students’ unrest made national headlines and influenced the debate. When the school district considered laying off some of the school’s security guards, an even larger protest ensued. Golf carts were overturned, security guards hoisted aloft like idols, and grievances aired in a healthily riotous two-hour rally. The school district reviewed its personnel requirements, and fewer guards were laid off.

Perhaps most Columbia students just don’t feel the same pressures my high school peers did. Perhaps many here don’t have much to protest about, or simply don’t care enough. That would be disappointing and sad. But I would contend that Columbia isn’t as cut off from the rest of the world as our fortress-like campus might suggest. If income inequality continues to soar, if unemployment remains high, if the Euro crisis plunges the global economy into recession once again, there may come a time when Columbia decides that enough is enough. And when we do, I hope that we take our lead not from Reddit’s online petitioners or Zuccotti Park’s drum players, but from the heroes of the Arab Spring and the many revolutions that have preceded it. Don’t ask politely. Don’t beg or wave signs. Interfere, and be prepared to sacrifice yourself.

Alex Collazo is a Columbia College junior majoring in creative writing and economics-philosophy. He is the treasurer of CIRCA and a former Spectator head copy editor. I’m Just Saying runs alternate Tuesdays.