For those closely watching the intersection of academia, politics, and activism, a striking act unfolded recently at Columbia University’s annual Alumni Day: a group of alumni boldly tore up copies of their diplomas. This impassioned protest, meticulously organized by SIPA Alumni for Palestine, was not just a symbolic gesture—it’s a poignant commentary on Columbia University’s controversial cooperation with the Trump administration’s harsh immigration and foreign policy measures. Central to the demonstration was the plight of Mahmoud Khalil, a Columbia graduate student and Palestinian rights activist, whose recent arrest by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) has galvanized opposition to the school’s perceived complicity.
An Unmistakable Message of Solidarity and Resistance
In this protest, alumni fervently chanted “Free Palestine” and “Free Mahmoud Khalil,” underscoring the depth of their dissatisfaction. Mahmoud Khalil, a figure characterized by campus peers as a dedicated advocate for Palestinian human rights, was abruptly detained by ICE from his Columbia-owned residence on March 8. Currently held in a detention facility in Louisiana, he faces deportation under the Trump administration’s claim that his activism represents a “threat to foreign policy.” Such rhetoric vividly demonstrates the administration’s increasingly open assault on dissenting voices, thereby challenging America’s cherished values of free expression and democratic debate.
For Amali Tower, a 2009 graduate from Columbia’s School of International and Public Affairs (SIPA), tearing up her diploma was neither theatrical nor easy. Expressing profound disillusionment, she remarked, “It’s not easy to do this, with none of us doing this lightly. There’s no joy in this.” Tower eloquently articulated a sentiment echoed by many protesters: a deep sense of betrayal and disappointment at Columbia’s silent accommodation of aggressive federal policies targeting international students and activists.
Critics Challenge the Authenticity of the Gesture
Predictably, conservative commentators and MAGA-aligned critics quickly disparaged the demonstration as a “stunt” destined for irrelevance. They pointed out, somewhat gleefully, that the alumni were shredding photocopies of their diplomas, keeping the original degrees intact—and thus their professional credentials secure. But to dismiss the protest as mere symbolism emphatically misses the deeper moral courage and cultural significance of the demonstration.
This criticism itself highlights precisely the problem of perceiving activism solely in transactional terms. It undervalues the courageous stance these alumni took, ignoring how tangibly their professional identities and reputations intertwine with a prestigious diploma that now embodies an institution they see as compromised. As Amali articulated in interviews, the integrity derived from aligning oneself with the oppressed can be just as significant—in many ways more so—than the paper on which an academic qualification is printed.
“Integrity and solidarity with the oppressed speaks louder than any diploma ever could.”
A University in Turmoil and Transition
Following the vivid protest, Columbia University entered a noticeable period of turmoil and swift administrative shifts. Just days after conceding to federal demands—seen by many as capitulation against the principles of open academic discourse—Columbia’s Interim President Katrina Armstrong announced her resignation. Her decision to step down, coinciding with the demonstration’s aftermath, signals significant internal discord regarding the university’s recent stance and interactions with federal authorities over contentious issues like immigration and activism.
This administrative upheaval underlines how the ramifications of these protests stretch far beyond a sharply divided campus. They echo deeply entrenched tensions within America’s higher education institutions—straddling ideals of free speech and human rights versus appeasement policies seeking governmental favor. Such incidents remind us that universities, traditionally bastions for critical thought and dissent, often find themselves at a crossroad when values are tested by governmental pressures.
Khalil’s ongoing detention and potential deportation further illuminate these stakes. His legal case is the bellwether for broader questions about academic freedom, immigrant rights, and America’s commitment to the universal human rights ideals we profess globally. Regardless of how Khalil’s individual circumstances resolve, the Columbia alumni protest serves as an urgent call for universities across the nation to reevaluate their allegiances and affirm their moral and ethical responsibilities to students whose political activism places them directly in confrontation with reactionary forces.
As alumni took their public stand, the spectacle conveyed a powerful and unequivocal message: in the battle between complicity with oppressive policies and principled defiance, meaningful resistance often demands personal cost and public sacrifice. Rather than a meaningless “self-own,” as critics sought to frame it, the torn diplomas symbolize a powerful realignment of values, a passionate choice to prioritize ethical conviction over institutional prestige.
These alumni, no less proud of their academic accomplishments, now find greater pride in their willingness to confront injustice head-on. For progressive citizens and institutions alike, their demonstration compels a vital reflection on the responsibilities one owes—not just to alma maters or resume achievements—but ultimately to broader and deeper commitments to justice, freedom, and human rights.
