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"My university has no business doing this," wrote one professor at the University of Michigan Law School.
Multiple professors expressed outrage on Friday in response to reporting from The Guardian, which found that the University of Michigan is making use of undercover investigators to keep tabs on pro-Palestinian groups on campus.
"My university has no business doing this. I love the University of Michigan, and this is not how we should operate," said University of Michigan Law School professor Sam Bagenstos, writing from his personal Bluesky account.
The Guardian spoke to several unnamed students who said that they have been followed, recorded, or eavesdropped on private investigators. Students who spoke to the outlet tracked dozens of investigators who have trailed them around campus.
Students say they have confronted the investigators, and one student captured on video multiple interactions with a man who the student says has been following him. In one video, the man falsely accuses the student of attempting to rob him, and in another the man appears to fake being disabled.
When contacted by the outlet, the University of Michigan did not deny the surveillance, which The Guardian reported appears to be largely an intimidation tactic. The school said it had not received any complaints about the investigators.
"Any security measures in place are solely focused on maintaining a safe and secure campus environment and are never directed at individuals or groups based on their beliefs or affiliations," a spokesperson for the school said in an email.
One student who says she's been regularly followed is Katrina Keating, a student who is a part of Students Allied for Freedom and Equality, which is a local chapter of Students for Justice in Palestine. Keating told The Guardian that the surveillance has made her feel "on edge." Keating said she was first followed in November.
According to The Guardian, the investigators appear to work for the private security group City Shield. The university's governing body, the board of regents, paid at least $800,000 to City Shield's parent company from June 2023 to September 2024.
"Disgusting. University of Michigan pays around $800,000 to a private security firm to surveil pro-Palestinian students," wrote Marc Owen Jones, an associate professor at Northwestern University in Qatar.
Adil Haque, a professor at Rutgers Law School, wrote: "Outrageous. This is a public university."
Chris Geraldi, a journalist with New York Focus, wrote that "every paragraph of this story is bonkers."
In April, with the blessing of Democratic Michigan Attorney General Dana Nessel, law enforcement officers raided the homes of multiple student organizers connected to Palestine solidarity protests at the University of Michigan.
Students who spoke to The Guardian said the surveillance has increased in the wake of those raids.
"The logic used by the federal government to target myself and my peers is a direct extension of Columbia's repression playbook concerning Palestine."
In an op-ed dictated to his attorney from a detention facility in Louisiana, Columbia University graduate Mahmoud Khalil late last week condemned the Ivy League institution's complicity in the Trump administration's targeting of Palestinian rights advocates and campus dissent more broadly.
Khalil, who has said he is a political prisoner, argued in the Friday op-ed that Columbia "laid the groundwork for my abduction" last month by U.S. Department of Homeland Security agents. The Trump administration's detention of and effort to deport Khalil—who helped lead student protests against Israel's assault on Gaza—have sparked widespread alarm and backlash, much of it directed at Columbia.
"The logic used by the federal government to target myself and my peers is a direct extension of Columbia's repression playbook concerning Palestine," Khalil wrote, pointing to the recent arrests of other international students who have spoken out in support of Palestinian rights.
Writing in the university's daily student newspaper, Khalil noted that "Columbia has suppressed student dissent under the auspices of combating antisemitism," an approach also taken by the Trump administration, which said the arrest of Khalil was carried out in alignment with the president's "executive orders prohibiting antisemitism."
"This institution's singular concern has always been the vitality of its financial profile, not the safety of Jewish students. This is why Columbia was all too happy to embrace a superficial progressive agenda while still disregarding Palestine, and this is why it will soon turn on you, too," he warned. "If there was any illusion left, it shattered last week when the board of trustees executed a historic maneuver to seize direct control of the presidency. Cutting out their middleman, the board appointed fellow trustee Claire Shipman to a position reserved for academic leadership. Who can still pretend this is an educational institution and not the 'Vichy on the Hudson'?"
"Faced with a movement for divestment they couldn't crush, your trustees opted to set fire to the institution they're entrusted with," Khalil continued. "It is incumbent upon each of you to reclaim the university and join the student movement to carry forward the work of the past year."
Khalil and his legal team are currently fighting the Trump administration's effort to remove him from the country. Earlier this month, a second federal judge rejected the Trump administration's request to transfer Khalil's case to Louisiana, a demand that civil liberties advocates decried as a ploy to "manipulate federal court jurisdiction" in order to receive a favorable ruling.
Donna Lieberman, executive director of the New York Civil Liberties Union—which is representing Khalil—stressed in an NBC News op-ed last week that Khalil "has never been accused, charged, or convicted of any crime."
"The Trump administration is sending a message to everyone in America: If you dare to disagree with the president, you will be punished," Lieberman wrote, alluding to a fight over federal funding. "Columbia was just the first target. Harvard and Princeton are now in danger of similar treatment. This is a full-scale attack on the system of free inquiry, discussion, and debate that is at the core of higher education, which is so crucial to the strength of our democracy."
Amid profound shifts in power and governments across the world, they are embodying the hope and power that lies within grassroots movements and activism.
On the corner of West 25th Street and Broadway, a sea of blood-stained hands gather silently amid the noises of Midtown Manhattan. As tourists and locals rush across the intersection, some attempt to decipher the demonstration. A sign in Serbian Cyrillic reads, "Love for students, the ocean divides us, the fight connects us." After 15 minutes, the crowd breaks their silence, embracing one another through a shared goal, to show support for the students of Serbia.
This demonstration is part of a larger student-led resistance sweeping Serbia over the past three months. After the deadly collapse of a canopy at a newly renovated railway station that claimed the lives of 16 people in Novi Sad, the country's second-largest city, public outrage has sparked a monumental fight against corruption. Protesters first took to the streets to demand accountability from government officials for the negligence and dishonesty that resulted in the tragedy. They staged silent protests starting at 11:52 am, the time the canopy collapsed, standing silently for 15 minutes, one minute for every life lost. After students of the Faculty of Dramatic Arts were assaulted during a peaceful protest on November 22 by pro-government thugs who may have been directed or even paid by government officials, anger over the collapse gave way to broader outrage.
The attack on the students, the lack of accountability from the corrupt populist government, and the deceit behind the construction of the railway station have led to a larger demand to restore justice and accountability. A bloody handprint, which has grown to be the symbol for the student movement, represents the culpability that the Serbian government has in the canopy collapse and for years of an oppressive and controlling regime. The protests are writing history, leading to the resignation of more than a dozen government officials and growing to become the largest student-run movement Serbia has seen since the 1990s and possibly the largest in Europe since 1968.
For most Serbians, a movement of this magnitude seemed unimaginable, especially from a generation with high emigration rates, yet the students have made the impossible a reality.
The Serbian Progressive Party or Srpska Napredna Stranka has been the ruling political party since 2012 when Aleksandar Vučić took office. In the years since, his government has been accused of having ties to organized crime, bribing voters, and abusing its political power to threaten opposition. His populist government, and the oligarchy it perpetuates, have threatened and dismantled civilian rights and freedoms within the country.
The renovation of the train station, which began in 2021, was the product of a larger project led by Serbia, China, and Hungary to develop a fast rail pathway between Belgrade and Budapest. Vučić's boasting about the station's upgrade and the project during his 2022 election campaign only increased suspicions following the collapse when he claimed that the canopy had not been renovated during the reconstruction. Documentation that later emerged proved this to be false and showed that at minimum some work was done on the canopy. The glorified reconstruction of the station and its ultimately deadly faulty construction is seen as an emblem of Vučić's neglect of public safety, infrastructure, and well-being to strengthen political and monetary relationships.
Rather than be intimidated by the assault on the November 22 protest, the Faculty of the Dramatic Arts students blockaded university buildings three days later, inspiring universities across the country to do the same. As protests intensified, so did the message unifying the students and protesters: Serbian citizens deserve better than a government that puts its political and financial interests above its people.
The demands set forth by the students are simple yet effective: First, they demand the release of all documents relating to the reconstruction of the Novi Sad railway station and full transparency on how such an avoidable tragedy could occur. Second, they demand accountability for those who have attacked peaceful protesters, going so far as to ram cars into crowds and injuring several people. Third, they demand that the criminal charges of those arrested during the protests be dropped. Lastly, they demand a 20% increase in the budget for higher education.
Students are demanding that the government abide by the same laws it imposes on its citizens. After students were injured by drivers who deliberately rammed cars into their peaceful protests, Vučić reacted by saying that the drivers were simply "trying to go about their way," a statement that made clear that his interests don't lie in the safety of his citizens but rather the preservation of his control. The students have developed an impressive tactic in response, shutting Vučić out and appealing directly to the judicial system, the Ministry of Education, and the Ministry of Construction.
On December 15 during a television interview, Prime Minister Milos Vučević made the abominable statement, "You can't bring down a country because of 15 people who died, nor 155, nor 1,555." This comment provided a comical victory for protesters after Vučević resigned on January 25, making him one of several officials to do so alongside the mayor of Novi Sad, Milan Đurić, and the Minister of Construction, Goran Vesić. On December 30th, Serbia's Public Prosecutor indicted 13 individuals regarding the collapse of the canopy. Vučević's resignation followed a general strike on January 24 that captured the country and increased pressure on the government. As the sun rose over Belgrade on January 25, protesters celebrated the 24-hour blockade of the city's largest road junction, Autokomanda, and the new chapter that the resignation of the prime minister brings to their movement.
Most recently the students have blocked off bridges in Novi Sad that serve as the main roadways between the city and Belgrade. In January their movement was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. But perhaps their biggest success has been in restoring hope across borders, professions, and generations.
Their resistance has spread beyond the protests and blockades. It's seen in communities set up by students in universities with kitchens, tents, and donation points. It's seen as high school students join them in the streets. It's seen in the songs they sing, the food they cook for one another, and the games they play as they block off one of the country's largest highway intersections. It's seen through the car horns, cheering crowds, and people running out of their homes with food and drinks for students marching 80 kilometers to join the Danube bridge blockade. It's seen when the Bar Association of Serbia goes on strike. It's seen as bikers, agricultural workers, and taxi drivers show up to support and protect students from the opposing violence. It's seen as peaceful demonstrations of support are spreading across borders and oceans to over 150 cities including New York, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. It's seen as students marched over 100 kilometers in the cold to join a massive blockade and protest in the city of Kragujevac, tearfully cheered on by bystanders.
Despite their success, domestic and international media coverage has been essentially nonexistent since the protests began. It wasn't until the historic protest held on March 15 where hundreds of thousands gathered in Belgrade's city center to protest the Vučić regime, that the Western media started covering the students' feat.
The suppression of protests and blockades by Serbian media is a deliberate effort to silence the students' voices and demands. With Vučić's foreign policy juggling act among major international powers, the resistance in Serbia has been mistakenly painted as anti-Putin by Western media outlets. Despite Vučić's delicate balance between the West and the East, the ideological conflicts are not the driving force for the students; rather, their activism is rooted in the pursuit of justice and accountability from their government.
For most Serbians, a movement of this magnitude seemed unimaginable, especially from a generation with high emigration rates, yet the students have made the impossible a reality. Amid profound shifts in power and governments across the world, they are embodying the hope and power that lies within grassroots movements and activism. "Turn off the TV. Tune In" is a slogan that has been used by student blockade accounts in response to the government regulation and censoring of the media. It stands as a powerful call to action for Serbian citizens and a message that can resonate with activists and changemakers globally.
When looking at the crowds of students holding the symbolic blood-stained hand over their hands, we should be reminded of the blood washing over the hands of governments internationally. At a recent solidarity demonstration in New York, a sign reading "Jedan Svet, Jedna Borba / One World, One Fight" showcased the hope that lies within global solidarity. The tenacity, resilience, and perseverance of the students in Serbia have ignited a wave of hope, serving as a reminder that true power resides in the hands of the people.
Lupien's viral interruption of JD Vance's speech falsely blaming immigrants for the U.S. housing crisis wasn't just important because it corrected a falsehood; she was defending the fundamental right to challenge power.
What happens when free speech is only free for those in power? JD Vance and the Trump administration claim to champion the First Amendment, but in practice, their version of free speech comes with a condition: It protects those who uphold their agenda and punishes those who challenge it.
This was on full display at the National League of Cities conference when Vance, now vice president, blamed the housing crisis on undocumented immigrants. "You see a very consistent relationship between a massive increase in immigration and a massive increase in housing prices," Vance argued. According to him, the rising cost of housing wasn't due to corporate greed or predatory real estate practices, but to migrants. It was a textbook case of scapegoating—shifting blame onto the powerless to distract from the true culprits.
Enter Mary Lupien, a Rochester, New York city councilmember and mayoral candidate, who wasn't having it. In a moment of raw defiance, she interrupted Vance's speech, cutting through the lies with a simple truth:
Vance and his allies claim to be warriors for free expression, yet their administration is actively working to silence those who challenge their narrative.
"We're competing against corporations, not immigrants. Give us back our funding!"
It was a flash of courage in a political landscape where too many sit silently while bad-faith actors rewrite reality.
Lupien, a progressive leader and longtime advocate for social justice, has represented Rochester's East District on City Council since January 2020. A resident of the Beechwood neighborhood, she has built her career around economic justice, housing rights, and community empowerment. Even those who don't align with her politically cannot deny her commitment, bravery, and willingness to challenge power.
Her advocacy has consistently centered on issues of housing insecurity, systemic inequality, and corporate accountability. And while some might dismiss her tactics as disruptive, history favors those who refuse to stay silent in the face of injustice.
Scapegoating is one of the oldest tricks in the book. Governments throughout history have blamed the most vulnerable groups—immigrants, minorities, the poor—to divert attention from systemic failures. It's a strategy designed to stoke fear, deepen divisions, and deflect accountability.
Vance's rhetoric is a classic example. Instead of addressing the real causes of America's housing crisis—corporate landlords, speculative real estate, stagnant wages, and decades of underinvestment in affordable housing—he chose to point the finger at immigrants.
Lupien's response was a direct rejection of this deceitful narrative. She reminded the room, and the nation, that the real enemies of affordable housing are not desperate families seeking a better life but corporations and policies designed to prioritize profit over people.
JD Vance and the Trump administration love to talk about free speech—until it's used against them. Their version of free speech is selective: It defends those who reinforce their ideology while crushing those who dissent.
Look no further than the arrest of Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian activist and legal U.S. resident, who was detained by federal immigration officials after helping lead student protests at Columbia University against the war in Gaza. President Donald Trump called Khalil's apprehension the "first arrest of many" in his administration's crackdown on campus opposition. Though a federal judge has temporarily blocked his deportation, the message was clear: Speak out against power, and you will pay the price.
The hypocrisy is glaring. Vance and his allies claim to be warriors for free expression, yet their administration is actively working to silence those who challenge their narrative. Khalil's arrest wasn't about enforcing immigration laws—it was about punishing dissent.
This is what makes Lupien's defiance so important. She wasn't just correcting a falsehood; she was defending the fundamental right to challenge power. In an era where dissent is increasingly met with retaliation, her voice was an act of resistance.
George Orwell once wrote:
"If liberty means anything at all, it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear."
Lupien exercised that right—not for personal gain, not for applause, but because someone had to.
There will be those who call Lupien's interruption disrespectful. There will be cynics who claim she was chasing a viral moment to boost her mayoral campaign. But both arguments ignore the stakes.
Trump's agenda isn't just about silencing opposition—it's about annihilating it. His administration has worked tirelessly to discredit institutions, suppress dissent, and consolidate power. Any act of civil disobedience that disrupts this effort—no matter how small—is an essential defense of democracy.
Moments like this come and go in the 24-hour news cycle. In a few days, most people will forget. But the slow erosion of democracy doesn't happen overnight—it happens in the moments when people choose to stay silent instead of speaking out.
Lupien made her choice. Will the rest of us?
Silence is complicity, and that’s the way Israel’s allies like it.
With nearly 18 million students on U.S. college campuses this fall, defenders of the war on Gaza don’t want to hear any backtalk. Silence is complicity, and that’s the way Israel’s allies like it. For them, the new academic term restarts a threat to the status quo. But for supporters of human rights, it’s a renewed opportunity to turn higher education into something more than a comfort zone.
In the United States, the extent and arrogance of the emerging collegiate repression is, quite literally, breathtaking. Every day, people are dying due to their transgression of breathing while Palestinian.
The Gaza death toll adds up to more than one Kristallnacht per day—for upwards of 333 days and counting, with no end in sight. The shattering of a society’s entire infrastructure has been horrendous. Months ago, citing data from the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics, ABC News reported that “25,000 buildings have been destroyed, 32 hospitals forced out of service, and three churches, 341 mosques and 100 universities and schools destroyed.”
Not that this should disturb the tranquility of campuses in the country whose taxpayers and elected leaders make it all possible. Top college officials wax eloquent about the sanctity of higher learning and academic freedom while they suppress protests against policies that have destroyed scores of universities in Palestine.
The ongoing atrocities by the Israel “Defense” Forces in Gaza, killing a daily average of more than 100 people—mostly children and women—have galvanized many young people to take action in the United States.
A key rationale for quashing dissent is that anti-Israel protests make some Jewish students uncomfortable. But the purposes of college education shouldn’t include always making people feel comfortable. How comfortable should students be in a nation enabling mass murder in Gaza?
What would we say about claims that students in the North with southern accents should not have been made uncomfortable by on-campus civil rights protests and denunciations of Jim Crow in the 1950s and 1960s? Or white students from South Africa, studying in the United States, made uncomfortable by anti-apartheid protests in the 1980s?
A bedrock for the edifice of speech suppression and virtual thought-policing is the old standby of equating criticism of Israel with antisemitism. Likewise, the ideology of Zionism that tries to justify Israeli policies is supposed to get a pass no matter what—while opponents, including many Jews, are liable to be denounced as antisemites.
But polling shows that more younger Americans are supportive of Palestinians than they are of Israelis. The ongoing atrocities by the Israel “Defense” Forces in Gaza, killing a daily average of more than 100 people—mostly children and women—have galvanized many young people to take action in the United States.
“Protests rocked American campuses toward the end of the last academic year,” a front-page New York Times story reported in late August, adding: “Many administrators remain shaken by the closing weeks of the spring semester, when encampments, building occupations and clashes with the police helped lead to thousands of arrests across the country.” (Overall, the phrase “clashes with the police” served as a euphemism for police violently attacking nonviolent protesters.)
From the hazy ivory towers and corporate suites inhabited by so many college presidents and boards of trustees, Palestinian people are scarcely more than abstractions compared to far more real priorities. An understated sentence from the Times sheds a bit of light: “The strategies that are coming into public view suggest that some administrators at schools large and small have concluded that permissiveness is perilous, and that a harder line may be the best option—or perhaps just the one least likely to invite blowback from elected officials and donors who have demanded that universities take stronger action against protesters.”
From the hazy ivory towers and corporate suites inhabited by so many college presidents and boards of trustees, Palestinian people are scarcely more than abstractions compared to far more real priorities.
Much more clarity is available from a new Mondoweiss article by activist Carrie Zaremba, a researcher with training in anthropology. “University administrators across the United States have declared an indefinite state of emergency on college campuses,” she wrote. “Schools are rolling out policies in preparation for quashing pro-Palestine student activism this fall semester, and reshaping regulations and even campuses in the process to suit this new normal.
“Many of these policies being instituted share a common formula: more militarization, more law enforcement, more criminalization, and more consolidation of institutional power. But where do these policies originate and why are they so similar across all campuses? The answer lies in the fact that they have been provided by the ‘risk and crisis management’ consulting industries, with the tacit support of trustees, Zionist advocacy groups, and federal agencies. Together, they deploy the language of safety to disguise a deeper logic of control and securitization.”
Countering such top-down moves will require intensive grassroots organizing. Sustained pushback against campus repression will be essential, to continually assert the right to speak out and protest as guaranteed by the First Amendment.
Insistence on acquiring knowledge while gaining power for progressive forces will be vital. That’s why the national Teach-In Network was launched this week by the RootsAction Education Fund (which I help lead), under the banner “Knowledge Is Power—and Our Grassroots Movements Need Both.”
The elites that were appalled by the moral uprising on college campuses against Israel’s slaughter in Gaza are now doing all they can to prevent a resurgence of that uprising. But the mass murder continues, subsidized by the U.S. government. When students insist that true knowledge and ethical action need each other, they can help make history and not just study it.
"The courage of this youth is boundless," said the microcredit pioneer known as the banker to the poor. "They have made Bangladesh proud and shown the world our nation's determination against injustice."
The leader of student protests over jobs and economic injustice in Bangladesh in recent weeks said Tuesday that Nobel Peace Prize laureate Muhammad Yunus had accepted the students' call for him to take over the country's interim government, following the resignation of Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina.
A spokesperson for the country's president, Mohammed Shahabuddin, told the Associated Press that Yunus would lead the interim government and that other political leaders would be decided soon.
Yunus, an economist who won the Nobel prize in 2006 for establishing the microcredit institution Grameen Bank, has been called the "banker to the poor" for helping to lift millions of people in Bangladesh out of poverty through small loans.
Nahid Islam, who led the protest movement last month over quotas in government jobs and unemployment, said Tuesday that the movement would not accept a government led by General Waker-uz-Zaman, the chief of army staff who announced on Monday that Hasina had fled the country and stepped down, and who took temporary control of the country.
"We have given our blood, been martyred, and we have to fulfill our pledge to build a new Bangladesh," Islam said. "No government other than the one proposed by the students will be accepted. As we have said, no military government, or one backed by the military, or a government of fascists, will be accepted."
"No government other than the one proposed by the students will be accepted. As we have said, no military government, or one backed by the military, or a government of fascists, will be accepted."
Yunus said he was "honored by the trust of the protesters who wish for me to lead the interim government."
"If action is needed in Bangladesh, for my country and for the courage of my people, then I will take it. The interim government is only the beginning. Lasting peace will only come with free elections. Without elections, there will be no change," said Yunus.
Shahabuddin announced on Tuesday that Parliament had been dissolved and said new elections would soon be held.
The protests began in July in Dhaka, with students outraged over the reinstatement of a job quota policy that reserved 30% of government jobs for descendants of military veterans of Bangladesh's 1971 war for independence from Pakistan—most of whom had ties to Hasina's Awami League party.
About a quarter of jobs were reserved for women, people with disabilities, and ethic minorities, leaving about 3,000 jobs open for 400,000 graduates to compete over.
Bangladesh has a high unemployment rate, with about a fifth of the population of 170 million people out of work, exacerbating anger over the job scheme and economic distress.
Hasina was elected to her fourth term as prime minister in January, but was accused of rigging the election, clamping down on opposition politicians and dissent, and arranging extrajudicial killings. She denied the accusations.
Student protesters took to the streets, chanting, "One, two, three, four, Sheikh Hasina is a dictator."
Police responded by cracking down violently, with more than 180 people killed and hundreds of people hit in the eyes by pellets that security forces deployed—potentially blinding them permanently.
The country's Supreme Court rescinded the job quota policy on July 21, opening jobs to 93% of applicants, but students continued to rally, demanding that Hasina step down.
Yunus expressed pride in the student protesters who led the movement.
"Youth have voiced their need for change in our country," the 84-year-old banker said. "The prime minister heard them by leaving the country. This was a very important first step taken yesterday. The courage of this youth is boundless. They have made Bangladesh proud and shown the world our nation's determination against injustice."
"In Trump's version of America, dissent will not be allowed unless he agrees with it like the January 6 attack," said one observer.
Former U.S. President Donald Trump reportedly told a group of donors at a recent campaign event that he will crack down on pro-Palestine demonstrations on college campuses and deport foreign student protesters if he's elected to a second term this November.
The Washington Post reported the presumptive GOP nominee told the group of predominantly Jewish supporters at the May 14 roundtable in New York City that the pro-Palestine protest movement sweeping college and university campuses across the country is part of a "radical revolution" that "has to be stopped now."
"One thing I do is, any student that protests, I throw them out of the country. You know, there are a lot of foreign students. As soon as they hear that, they're going to behave," Trump said, according to event attendees. "If you get me elected, and you should really be doing this, if you get me reelected, we're going to set that movement back 25 or 30 years."
Trump—who as president repeatedly encouraged police to brutalize protesters during the nationwide wave of racial justice demonstrations following the May 2020 murder of George Floyd—praised the New York Police Department for violently clearing a pro-Palestine student encampment and occupation at Columbia University last month.
The Columbia camp was one of dozens of encampments launched by students in response to Israel's obliteration of Gaza, a 235-day campaign that has left more than 128,000 Palestinians dead, maimed, or missing, according to Palestinian and international officials. Around 9 in 10 Gazans have been forcibly displaced. Hundreds of thousands of Palestinians are either suffering famine or are on the brink of starvation.
Last week, International Criminal Court Prosecutor Karim Khan announced that he is seeking arrest warrants for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant, and three Hamas leaders for alleged crimes including extermination committed on and after the October 7 attack on Israel in which more than 1,100 people were killed and over 240 others kidnapped.
Meanwhile, the International Court of Justice is weighing whether Israel's conduct in the war constitutes genocide, as alleged by South Africa and over 30 countries and regional blocs. Earlier this month, the ICJ ordered Israel to immediately halt its invasion of Rafah. However, Israel has ignored the order and in recent days its military has carried out a series of strikes that have killed and wounded hundreds of Palestinians.
Trump—who previously said Israel should "finish up" its Gaza campaign and "stop killing people"—told attendees of the New York roundtable that the U.S. ally has a right to continue "its war on terror."
"I'm one of the only people who says that now," he said.
Trump, who is facing 88 federal and state felony charges across four cases, is expected to face off against President Joe Biden in November.
The Biden administration—which has approved billions of dollars in new U.S. military aid to Israel—is assessing whether Israel's Sunday bombing of a refugee camp in southern Gaza violated the president's shifting "red line" in Rafah.
Trump's vow to crush pro-Palestine protests tracks with his November pledge to "root out" those he called "radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country," but it stands in stark contrast with his promise to pardon supporters convicted for violently storming the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021 in support of his "Big Lie" that the 2020 presidential election was "stolen."
"In Trump's version of America, dissent will not be allowed unless he agrees with it like the January 6 attack," liberal political commentator Dean Obeidallah—who is of Palestinian descent—said Tuesday on social media.
University of California, Davis, officials spent $175,000 to "clean up" the school's online reputation after the November 2011 pepper-spraying of students resulted in a barrage of negative attention.
The Sacramento Bee reported the news on Wednesday, citing documents revealed in response to requests filed last month under the California Public Records Act.
The records show that the UC Davis hired two separate firms to help improve the reputations of both the university and embattled Chancellor Linda P.B. Katehi.
According to the Bee:
The documents reflect an aggressive effort to counteract an avalanche of negative publicity that arose after the Nov. 18, 2011, pepper-spraying of student protesters by campus police. Fallout from that incident continued for more than a year, as investigations and lawsuits played out and spawned criticism of UC Davis and demands that Katehi resign.
In January 2013, UC Davis signed on with a Maryland company called Nevins & Associates for a six-month contract that paid $15,000 a month.
[...] The objectives Nevins outlined for the contract included "eradication of references to the pepper spray incident in search results on Google for the university and the Chancellor."
That objective was to be achieved by advising UC Davis officials on the use of Google platforms as part of "an aggressive and comprehensive online campaign to eliminate the negative search results for UC Davis and the Chancellor."
Footage of the interaction between student protesters and campus police can be seen below:
As Common Dreams reported at the time, a 190-page task force report released in 2012 said the use of pepper spray was "not supported by objective evidence and not authorized by policy."
The Bee further notes:
The release of the documents comes as Katehi is once again under fire, this time for her acceptance of seats on private corporate boards, including a textbook publisher and a for-profit university that was under scrutiny by the Federal Trade Commission. First revealed in The Bee, her outside board positions have sparked calls for her resignation as well as student protests.
Students have occupied the reception office outside Katehi's office for more than a month in a sit-in that they say will last until Katehi resigns.
In an open letter sent Tuesday to UC system president Janet Napolitano, marking the 32nd day of the occupation, the students wrote that their protest "is about more than just seeing Linda Katehi removed from office. This is a demand for larger structural changes that democratize decision-making processes and re-center the well-being of the students and workers of the UC Davis community as the top priority for campus administrators."
Of the university's attempt to scrub its image, meanwhile, Boing Boing declares, "Looks like the geniuses who run UC Davis never Googled the words 'Streisand Effect.'"
The Streisand Effect--named after an incident involving Barbra Streisand, the California Coastal Records Project, and real estate photos--is the phenomenon whereby an attempt to hide, remove, or censor a piece of information has the exact opposite effect, pushing said information into the spotlight.
Indeed, Gizmodo writes: "In UC Davis's case, all that money has gone... well, not far. Googling 'UC Davis pepper spray' yields 117,000 results, and many of them aren't flattering."
Faced with the largest student uprisings since South Africans toppled apartheid, President Jacob Zuma pledged Friday to halt tuition fee increases in 2016. This prompts declarations of victory and calls to continue the mass mobilizations until free education is achieved for all.
"A famous victory won by the hard struggle of students. We are all humbled," Salim Vally, associate professor of education and director of the Center for Education Rights and Transformation at the University of Johannesburg, told Common Dreams. "The determination and resoluteness of the students forced the hand of government. This was clear to many even before the sun rose this morning."
"Many lessons learned and an incredibly important educational experience for us all," Vally continued. "Foremost of which is that unity and mass struggle works."
Following a meeting with student organizers and university management, Zuma told reporters, "On the matter at hand, we agreed that there will be a zero increase in university fees in 2016."
The president's concessions were widely celebrated, but not everyone was satisfied. "We should have free education," said Bongani Shabangu, 18, who is studying at a Pretoria university, in an interview with The Irish Independent. Most of us are from poor families."
And, when large crowds rallied outside the main government complexes in Pretoria on Friday to demand that Zuma address them directly, police forces pelted them with water cannons, stun grenades, and tear gas.
What's more, many are still furious at police brutality against protesters and are calling for the government to drop steep charges levied against dozens of demonstrators who were detained.
Patrick Bond, professor of Political Economy at the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, told Common Dreams that students have won a "historic victory over South African neoliberalism."
However, he continued: "Other student demands remain outstanding: free tertiary education for poor and working people as the overall goal, and an end to labor casualization and outsourcing for low-paid university workers. Many such workers barely receive $100/month, and with a poverty line of $60/person/month, raising a family on starvation wages is impossible."
Sparked by tuition hikes of up to 11.5 percent at numerous universities, weeks of student protests have swept at least 18 campuses and shut down the country's top universities. Many call for free education in a society beset with deep inequities. "The current system continues to exclude most black South Africans and other historically disadvantaged groups," anthropologist Vito Laterza explained on the blog Africa is a Country.
As thousands rallied Thursday at the ruling ANC's headquarters in Johannesburg, student leader Mcebo Dlamini declared: "The ANC government will never give us free education. We must take it." Students' speeches at the demonstration are captured in the video below.
The protests follow the ongoing Rhodes Must Fall movement of "students and staff members mobilizing for direct action against the reality of institutional racism at the University of Cape Town,"--which is working towards the long-term goal of decolonizing higher education. Their demands include the implementation of "a curriculum which critically centers Africa and the subaltern" and the removal of "all statues and plaques on campus celebrating white supremacists."
According to Bond, the mass protests that led to Friday's concessions constitute a "boost to anti-austerity activism," especially relevant given Finance Minister Nhlanhla Nene's punishing reforms.
"A victory has been won, but the battle for free quality public education from pre-primary to higher education continues," Vally said. "The market orientation of higher education remains, reproducing and reflecting the inequalities of the wider society. This includes privatization, outsourcing, competitiveness, user fees, racism, patriarchy, and managerialism."
Vally added: "We now have the beginning of a new movement increasingly steeled in the struggle."