Each year, university students pay tens of thousands of dollars in tuition and fees to their institution. These funds––primarily meant for research and pedagogy––are often covertly subsumed by university administration’s capitalist ambition to fund and profit off of the military-industrial complex.
The financial backing of war, violence and genocide by supposed academic havens, coupled with these havens’ lukewarm messages of liberalism and diversity, often foment unrest and dissent among the student body. University students’ own investment in higher education is co-opted by authorities who externally present themselves as progressive intellectual stewards of democracy and morality.
Though students know what they’re paying for when they opt into a university education, that doesn’t mean their beliefs align with the corporate colonial and imperialist agendas of the institution they are attending. This fundamental misalignment of action and principle clashes ideologically with college students; as a result, student protesters have been some of the loudest voices for change throughout history––they see this vast cognitive dissonance as a sign to fight for justice. In fact, American college campuses have long been critical battlegrounds for activism. Representative of the younger electorate, college students and their engagement with political movements are the cornerstone of sparking discourse about current events and shaping public opinion.
This transformative cultural phenomenon was especially observed during the anti-war protests of the late 1960s and early 1970s in response to U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War. These student protests were instrumental in building opposition to the war and inextricably linked to the broader hippie counterculture of the time. They became emblematic of broader social movements to dismantle American systems of imperialism, authoritarianism and consumerism.
A striking parallel can be drawn today as student protesters across the world continue to fight against Israel’s U.S.-funded genocide in Gaza. Over half a century later, universities remain a locus of fervent anti-militarism and anti-colonialism. Though the main goal of protesters––the divestment of military funding––remains the same for Vietnam and Palestine, these two pivotal student movements are embedded in varying cultural contexts. Rather than a countercultural rejection of mainstream society, today’s student activism occurs within an intersectional framework that already promotes anti-establishment thought. The norms that dictate the underlying structures of these two distinct anti-war protests play a key role in understanding activism and its ability to incite tangible legislative change. In fact, examining the distinct hippie counterculture of the ’70s and contemporary stereotypes of social justice reveals how ongoing social currents transform how student protesters are portrayed in the media, and thus perceived by the general populace.
Anti-war protests in support of pulling American troops from the Vietnam War occurred in the context of the New Left party and its shared principles with the hippie movement. One of the first student activist coalitions, Students for Democratic Society (SDS) arose at the University of Michigan as a leader of campus advocacy in the 1960s, inspired by the rise of the New Left as well as writings about the ruling elite by sociologist C. Wright Mills. As written in SDS’s “Port Huron Statement,” the organization sought to completely dismantle political reliance on the power elites; and instead bring various student political groups together to make the American political landscape reflective of younger, more innovative perspectives. Their mission in the statement inherently called upon college students to be active, informed, and outspoken on political issues; SDS believed that the American government had devolved into an imperialistic power with a fascist military sovereignty. Progressive institutions meant to protect and serve the people had atrophied into centrist, authoritarian pundits representative solely of the ruling class.
These principles were the main ideological forces behind student protesters against Vietnam. In the late 1960s, the invasion of American troops into Vietnam was simultaneously accompanied by the peak of the hippie counterculture movement. Campus protests in the earlier part of the decade had been steady and growing, but political participation exploded as the hippie movement grew. Another movement that arose on college campuses, hippie groups rejected mainstream American life, which they saw as dominated by materialism and repression. By living in marginality through their fashion, diet or living arrangements, hippies carved out a distinct space in society to reconnect with humanity or nature. Though hippies were for the most part politically uninvolved, their philosophy of nonviolence and love, particularly the now-famous phrase “Make love, not war,” was embraced by student protest groups like SDS.
Nestled within this historical cultural context, opposition to the Vietnam War was often intertwined with broader rejections of American institutions, like the SDS’s renouncement of U.S. democratic governance in the Port Huron Statement. Student activists’ critiques extended beyond the war itself to the broader structures of power, capitalism and government control. These sociological concepts, relatively novel and forward-thinking for the 1960s and ‘70s, were not the norm––substantive intellectual critiques of systemic power abuse were not wholly absent, but extremely rare.
Yet, these ideas which galvanized so many college students to advocate against the Vietnam War are the same ones underlying today’s pro-Palestine campus protests. However, today’s anti-war movements draw from a vastly different cultural context. The rise of social media wokeness, Diversity, Equity & Inclusion (DEI) policies and other laws protecting minorities promote a standard of constant political participation and readiness to speak up for what is right. Younger generations are taught by their immigrant parents––once students who were afraid to voice their opinions––that they deserve to be in this country and have their voices amplified. This new hardening culture of individualism and autonomy intersects with student political beliefs.
Social media forges an unprecedented technological landscape with distinct dynamics of communication, interaction, and information sharing. Israel’s ongoing genocide and ethnic cleansing in Gaza and the West Bank, as well as their systematic bombing of civilian communities in Lebanon, are inescapable facts––perhaps more so for Gen Z TikTok and Instagram users. The rise of infographics as a source of political information has allowed for activism to transcend into the virtual sphere, where people can share information and clarify their political stance on an issue simply by uploading a post on their story. Moreover, the saturation of younger generations––found to be more progressive than older generations––on social media allows for an exchange of primarily left-leaning perspectives on news. This environment is a melting pot of radical thought incentivizing broader social action, with every like, comment and repost boosting a given narrative.
Additionally, it has become a widely accepted fact in modern day that universities are increasingly progressive, left-leaning spaces. Pew Research Center conducted a study in 2016 that found that the chance of someone identifying as politically liberal increases by about 8% more if one attends an undergraduate institution, and 14% if a graduate school is added on, too. The liberalization of higher education is critical to the genesis of campus activism, as emphases on intersectionality, anti-colonialism and critical race theory shape students’ processing and reaction to political conflict. The diversification of colleges under affirmative action, DEI and other initiatives has altered the makeup of university students. No longer predominantly white, upper-middle class, the campus community is comprised of a multitude of racial, ethnic and gender identities––each minority group with a deeply personal stake in the global fight for freedom, anti-violence and anti-imperialism.
Unlike the countercultural rejection of institutional power seen during the Vietnam protests, today’s student activism is rooted in these established frameworks. The popularization of these ideas in academic spaces creates a unique dynamic, where marginalized voices are not just resisting, but are themselves reshaping the narrative of power and oppression.
So today, as hundreds of thousands of Palestinians are being massacred by U.S.-funded Israeli military forces, student protesters carry the sentiments of previous college activists––conducting sit-ins and refusing to accept administrative attempts to restrict free speech (during the anti-war movement in the ‘70s, UC Berkeley officials banned political expression and activity on a sidewalk on campus, resulting in wide-scale political assembly and a sit-in outside the dean’s office). These inspiring acts of student resistance can be observed on our very own UCLA campus.
The encampment set up in Royce Quad in spring of 2024, followed by the violent attacks inflicted by Zionist, conservative extremists, and then UCPD, spurred hundreds of UCLA students to organize in mass protests. Social media-promoted norms of intersectionality and political advocacy are prevalent in these peaceful and passionate gatherings, whether they were centered around calls for UC to disclose and divest, or to honor over (as of this month) 41,000 Palestinian martyrs, as well as the thousands of people who have been traumatized and subjected to inhumane, unsanitary conditions due to Israel’s genocide.
Nearly every single UCLA protest has been organized by UCLA’s SJP, or Students for Justice in Palestine, or UC Divest, a coalition of on- and off-campus organizations committed to ending the profiting of UC off of the ongoing genocide. SJP and UC Divest are reminiscent of SDS in their values of anti-imperialism, but they represent a vastly different contemporary landscape of activism.
Through Instagram, students were able to not only view friends’ reposts of protest flyers, but also consume non-Western perspectives and news content about Gaza. The wide-reaching social media platform offered the ideal place for students interested in the issue to find a jumping-off point for deeper research by simply tapping through stories or looking at a Palestinian in Gaza’s Instagram account (ex. Bisan Owda, @wizard_bisan1, documented her experiences of being bombed in Gaza at the start of the genocide in October 2023). The transformation of journalism, coupled with the continuous consumption of news, has had a profound impact on how students organize their activism.
While Vietnam-era protests relied primarily on physical sit-ins and marches, today’s movements can transcend campus borders through social media. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok become absolutely vital tools, amplifying the voices of Palestinian activists, documenting Israel’s atrocities in real-time and rapidly organizing protests. This digital reach has transformed activism from campus-based resistance to a global network of advocacy.
However, it is important to acknowledge that with so much information available at the tips of our fingers, the sociocultural context of activism and politics exists on a tenuous boundary of truly meaningful education and misinformation. Though sorting through fake news is often difficult, student activism is wholly ameliorated by the accessibility of social media––groups like SJP and UC Divest are able to organize effectively and send their message to hundreds of thousands of people across the greater LA area.
Simultaneously, this makes participation in student activism and awareness both more critical: There is no excuse to “not know enough” about the genocide of Palestinians. If I spend more than 5 minutes on Instagram, I already am reminded of the depressingly bleak state of politics and the inhumane slaughters my American tax dollars are funding for the Israeli military. The availability of information and awareness of campus protests is thus dramatically higher today than for anti-war protests of the past.
Just as campus protests were a driving force behind the opposition to U.S. involvement in Vietnam, today’s student movements continue that legacy by standing against American- and Israeli-backed atrocities. The same energy fueling sit-ins, marches,and the refusal to comply with institutional censorship in the ‘60s and ‘70s now animates a new generation of activists. In both eras, students have rallied against the hypocrisy of universities profiting from war, forcing these institutions to confront their complicity in global violence. The protests against Vietnam, rooted in hippie counterculture’s rejection of capitalism and conformity, mirror the current fight for Palestine, though shaped by a different cultural context.
Now, with the rise of social media and increased focus on intersectionality, today’s campus activists have new tools and frameworks to organize and share information. Yet, the underlying demand remains the same: divestment from war and an end to violence. After all, is that so much to ask for?
Whether for Vietnam or Gaza, university students have always been at the forefront of challenging institutional complicity in violence and imperialism. While the methods of protest communication have evolved, the underlying demand for justice has stayed the same. In a world where the boundaries between local and global issues blur, students’ ability to challenge oppressive systems has only grown stronger.
The torch of past movements has been passed to a new generation, and their resistance reminds us that real change begins with those who refuse to stay silent in the face of oppression. Whether in support of Vietnam or Palestine, the struggle for liberation continues, and student voices will remain a force too powerful to ignore.
Visual Credit:
Left: “Anti-Vietnam War Protest” by manhhai is licensed under CC BY 2.0.
Right: “Latrobe University students for Palestine marching down Swanston Street” by John Englart (Takver) is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.
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