It’s been more than 50 years since Columbia University became the site of student demonstrations amid unrest over the Vietnam War, but the spirit of protest on campus remains strong.
Late Tuesday night, dozens of protestors sieged Hamilton Hall—the iconic site of numerous student occupations over the course of history—and unfurled a banner to reveal the building’s new name by protestors: “Hind’s Hall.” The designation was in honor of six-year-old Hind Rajab, who was killed by Israeli troops in Gaza. More than 100 people were arrested at Columbia by the New York Police Department (NYPD), with dozens apprehended in the hall. Those detained face charges ranging from trespassing, criminal mischief, and burglary, NYPD Chief of Patrol John Chell said during a Wednesday press conference.
The student takeover is part of ongoing pressure to have Columbia divest, or remove investment funds, from companies that have business ties, or profit from their relationship with Israel. The actions are also a show of support for the Palestinian people in Gaza who have been living in a warzone since Hamas kidnapped more than 200 hostages and killed around 1,200 Israelis on Oct. 7. More than 34,000 Palestinians have died since, per the Hamas-controlled Palestinian Ministry of Health.
Aniko Bodroghkozy, a media studies professor at the University of Virginia, spoke with TIME about how recent protests compare to other moments in Columbia’s history some 40 and 56 years back. Bodroghkozy participated in a 1985 protest calling for Columbia University’s divestment from South Africa while she was studying for her Master’s.
Reflecting on the present-day encampment, Bodroghkozy noted striking similarities to the protests of the past, particularly in the student takeover of Hamilton Hall and the response by university administrators. In both the 1968 and 1985 protests, the involvement of law enforcement and the resulting impact on the university’s reputation were also notable parallels.
In contrast, Bodroghkozy pointed out differences in the leadership and media perceptions of the protests. Notably, the absence of a clear charismatic leader and the portrayal of student activists by the mass media as vandals in 1968, contrasted with the more positive coverage of youth activism in recent years.
Regarding the response by university administrators to the protests, Bodroghkozy emphasized that their reactions have historically been uncertain, with implications for the institution’s reputation and the safety and welcoming atmosphere for students.
Bodroghkozy also touched on the limitation of press access during the protests, expressing concerns about the Columbia School of Journalism’s role in restricting the freedom of the press at the historic event.
In terms of the potential consequences faced by today’s protesters due to modern society, Bodroghkozy raised the issue of doxxing and emphasized the potential contradiction between masking identities and the purpose of protest action.
Looking back at her participation in the 1985 protests, Bodroghkozy shared her motivations and highlighted the moral imperative that drove her involvement, drawing parallels with the current situation but acknowledging the increased complexities.
The echoes of history resound as Columbia navigates the challenges posed by current student protests, each chapter adding new dimensions to the university’s legacy of activism. As the situation unfolds, it remains to be seen how this latest chapter in the university’s history will shape the path forward for Columbia and its community.

