On Tuesday, the 13 University affiliates arrested at Clio Hall in April went to court for a hearing. Six of them entered plea deals to plead guilty to a municipal noise ordinance, but Princeton Municipal Court Judge John McCarthy III ’69 rejected the deals, likely sending all of the protesters to trial.
Our columnists weigh in on the fact that this case reached the courts and on the Judge’s decision.
Princeton’s choice to capitulate to prosecutor ignores criminal justice realities
By Christofer Robles, Community Opinion Editor
The University has chosen to keep its distance in the case against the Clio 13, instead bestowing “full faith” in municipal prosecutor Christopher Koutsouris and, presumably, the justice system. Princeton is blithely mistaken, however, if it truly believes that any outcome from prosecuting non-violent student protest could ever be just.
Besides having a disproportionate and historically ignorant response to the Clio sit-in, the University errs in unnecessarily exposing its students to the disastrous consequences of involvement with the criminal justice system. Now that the presiding judge has rejected plea deals and the case progresses, Princeton should advocate for the softest punishment possible and provide sufficient restitution to students at the conclusion of the trial.
Defiant criminal trespassing is a petty offense that can carry a penalty of 30 days in jail and a $500 fine, in addition to a criminal conviction on an accused’s permanent record. In no way do these outcomes “[maintain] student accountability,” as the University purportedly hopes. Rather, they introduce students to possibly debt-inducing fines and fees, inflict long-lasting harm to their health and well-being, and jeopardize their future economic prosperity. Further, the disproportionate effect of this all on students of color is concerning, especially when considering New Jersey’s already massive racial disparities in incarceration and enforcement of low-level offenses like trespassing.
While Princeton has tried to sit this one out, it owes its advocacy and support to the Clio protesters. Rather than limit discipline to internal procedure, the University has chosen to passively watch as its own students navigate a system of uncertainty and possibly long-lasting legal consequences. If advocacy proves to be insufficient, Princeton should absorb the financial burdens and fines of the Clio 13 and do what they can to reconcile their legal inaction.
Christofer Robles is the community Opinion editor at The Daily Princetonian. He can be reached at cdrobles[at]princeton.edu.
The whole point of Clio Hall’s takeover was to get into the courts
By Abigail Rabieh, Public Editor
“We are taking our demands directly to the administration to force Princeton to the table NOW,” Princeton Israel Apartheid Divest (PIAD) wrote in an April 29 Instagram post announcing their “take over” of Clio Hall. Declaring that the occupation of physical space was meant to pressure the University to change its policy indicates that the protesters knew their actions violated a norm and purposely created an undesirable situation so as to have their demands met.
It is obvious that the students who entered Clio Hall under these conditions wanted to be arrested. Upon receiving their “final warning” prior to arrest, the occupiers shouted to the crowd gathered outside Clio Hall up that “there is no rest until divest,” clearly demonstrating their gleeful willingness to engage in political activity past the point of legally permitted action — occupiers smiled and laughed throughout this exchange. Their lawyer now writes that occupiers of the Hall were “simply seeking a meeting with their Dean” in order to categorize their actions as permissible in documents obtained by The Daily Princetonian, but the student’s own words indicate that this was clearly not true — they premised their readiness to leave the building on a University agreement to “divest,” not on a meeting.
Supporting the narrative that the students’ arrests were unjust and that the execution of a trial is a gross wrong would be to ignore the basic reality of Clio’s takeover. Civil disobedience, as supporters of the takeover have described it, involves breaking the law. If the occupiers themselves have changed their minds about fulfilling the terms that this protest ideology lays out, they may certainly attempt to warp truth and demand that their actions be extolled and their consequences remain unpaid. They can demand to be indulged while treating others with hostility. But the rest of us don’t have to listen.
Abigail Rabieh is a senior in the history department from Cambridge, Mass. She is the public editor at the ‘Prince’ and can be reached via email at arabieh[at]princeton.edu or on X at [at]AbigailRabieh.
Order and justice are both important. The former shouldn’t overrule the latter.
By Siyeon Lee, Assistant Opinion Editor
By definition, civil disobedience calls for breaking the law — and where laws are broken, court cases can understandably follow. But even if the protesters themselves were aware of this legal implication, it does not necessarily follow that the University’s or the court’s decision was a just one. We should view the upcoming Clio trial through this lens.
Civil disobedience laws are necessary and meant to be enacted, but they must be understood primarily as a tool for order rather than for justice. The reason why civil disobedience is prosecuted is not because the underlying action is morally right or wrong — it’s prosecuted simply because it is against the law.
The University’s decision not to interfere with the criminal charges of Clio Hall’s occupants, then, should be viewed as something that should have been expected. However, grappling with the moral conditions upon which they were invoked is a wholly different question. Civil disobedience laws have been present all throughout history in groundbreaking activist efforts whose legacies we live with today. The enforcement of the law — an expected attempt at order — should not signal to Princeton students that the causes that were behind the sit-in — an attempt at justice — were any less legitimate. The fine line between the maintenance of order versus justice exists, and it is a line on which we should tread very carefully.
Siyeon Lee is a sophomore from Seoul, South Korea intending to major in History. She is an assistant Opinion editor at the ‘Prince.’ She can be reached at siyeonlee[at]princeton.edu.
Another reminder of why the University shouldn’t throw things to the courts
By Eleanor Clemans-Cope, Head Opinion Editor
Today, six Clio Hall protesters were denied the plea deal that they sought. But this case should never have reached the courtroom: the University’s decision to give the municipal prosecutors full control over the prosecution of students during a protest that happened on University grounds was unnecessary.
The students were expressing their concerns within the context of the University community, and while there are reports of shouting, the protest was nonviolent. Princeton had the option to not involve town police at all — instead addressing the situation internally through its own disciplinary processes.
Princeton has historically navigated these kinds of protests through negotiation, even when demonstrators occupied administrative offices. But even though this too was a disagreement between students and the administration, instead of handling it as an internal matter, Princeton involved municipal authorities.
The University’s decision not to pursue their usual approach this time may have deprived both the administration and protesters of the chance to learn and grow. By doing so, the University escalated what could have been an opportunity for dialogue and learning into a legal conflict. And this response — coupled with the other disproportionate and invasive punishment/questioning of students — sets a concerning new precedent for how student expression is treated, raising questions about the fairness and predictability of disciplinary action at Princeton.
Eleanor Clemans-Cope (she/her) is a junior from Rockville, Md. studying economics. She is the head Opinion editor at ‘Prince.’ She can be reached on Twitter at [at]eleanorjcc or by email at eleanor.cc[at]princeton.edu.
This whole case focuses on the wrong issue
By Asa Santos, Columnist
The case against the students at Clio Hall perpetuates the narrative that the worst thing that happened that day was what the student protesters did. This is harmful and undermines the real unnecessary aggression that the students themselves were subjected to at the hands of law enforcement.
Per the statement released by professor Ruha Benjamin, students entered the building with a polite “collective demeanor;” professor Benjamin doesn’t mention threatening or abusive behavior, but instead highlights the students’ “soft-spoken” nature. Staff, according to professor Benjamin, “walked out without incident.” This account clearly dismisses other accounts that students would have threatened administrators to force them to exit the building. The faculty’s expressed concern for students’ wellbeing was merited: protesters were arrested, zip-tied and handcuffed, confined to a TigerTransit shuttle, and evicted from campus residence.
Beyond these physical punishments for civil disobedience, students suffered further threats to their wellbeing — beyond criminal charges, students face academic suspension, expulsion, and having their degrees withheld. Without a doubt, praying while handcuffed is a gross misuse of power, an undermining of students’ physical autonomy, but especially demeaning to students’ freedom of religious expression.
It’s clear that students were not treated justly, and it is not just to penalize students while not holding the administration accountable for their mistreatment.
Asa Santos is a columnist for the ‘Prince’ and a senior majoring in Anthropology from London and São Paulo and minoring in Gender & Sexuality Studies and Global Health & Health Policy.