Student demonstrations have a place

Princeton once had a very different political climate. There was a time when student demonstrations brought campus life to a standstill and forced shop closures on Nassau Street. We've heard of one instance in which a Dinky train was nearly derailed by student protestors. Forty years ago, the Holder howl wasn't just a release valve for final exam frustrations, but rather a cry summoning protest against social injustice.

OK. This past seems alien in comparison to today's Princeton, and most of us are probably happy to leave rabid anti-authoritarianism behind. Whether or not we think Princeton has changed for the better, it is hard to imagine acting out our political angst the way our predecessors did. For us, the pendulum has long since swung away from the moody activism of the 1960s toward a pattern of restraint when it comes to sorting out political questions. And despite a surge of activity across campus in connection with November's presidential election, public demonstration, one of the oldest and simplest tools for student political engagement, has remained all but untested here. Although we're heading through one of the biggest election periods of our lives, few students choose to speak out or demonstrate publicly — at least outside of student organizations.

Political feeling surely runs deep here, and there are plenty of activists more experienced than us to be found at Princeton. Still, having heard few peeps out of them this fall, the two of us and a few friends made a small effort to break the political silence on campus. Armed with poster-paper, sharpies and a small boombox, we positioned ourselves next to the intersection of Prospect Avenue and Washington Road, brandishing homemade election propaganda for passing pedestrians and motorists to see.

In the end, our six-person procession was pretty harmless, turning a few heads, provoking a few hand gestures — some kinder than others — and getting some sympathetic honks from motorists. Yet, even this little parade got rained on. A half-hour into the "demonstration," two proctors showed up and told us our activities violated campus and borough rules. Our options were to obtain a permit, close up shop, or face the consequences outlined in Rights, Rules and Responsibilities. After taking our demonstration on the move for a half hour, we called it quits, feeling a little silly, a little smug and a little mystified as to why students so rarely use this simple means of making their political opinion heard.

Maybe the absence of political demonstration on campus reflects the tediousness of having to register even small-scale political protests with the University. It is hard for students to voice themselves spontaneously when they must clear review process by the Office of the Dean of Undergraduate Students just to hold political signs without being hassled.

Still, the absence of public and spontaneous political action at Princeton has less to do with University regulations than with Princeton students' self-regulation. If thirty students assembled to express an opinion on a University policy or broader political issue, and did so without creating a major nuisance on campus, Princeton — a place at least nominally committed to free speech and active citizenship — would find it hard to suppress such action in good faith. The reason that students don't frequently gather in protest is not that the University is so overbearing in policing Princeton students, but that Princeton students are so effective at policing themselves.

Most any Princetonian, prematurely wise to the ways of the world, could give you several reasons why publicly demonstrating is not for him or her. One might tell you that demonstrations do nothing except polarize people and give legitimacy to the demands of an excitable few, that really addressing political problems requires the levelheaded constancy of a scientist and the organizational skill of a secretary — not a demonstrator's short-lived idealism.

Another student might tell you that his time is better spent reading the newspaper and learning the facts, or that he isn't interested in being controversial just for the sake of being controversial. A Princetonian, after all, has business to attend to, organizations to run, and can't afford to be identified with rash public action. Doing so might tarnish the front of coolness and equanimity he or she has worked so hard to build.

And how right these students are. If we bother to head outside during election season and make our views known, we stand to lose a little time, a little face, and a little objectivity. But hey, at least we stand. Kyle Jaros, a Wilson School major from Palo Alto, Cal., can be reached at kjaros@princeton.edu. Kyle Meng, a civil and environmental engineering major from Chappaqua, N.Y., can be reached at kmeng@princeton.edu.