Images of students marching in the streets, holding signs and chanting for justice are familiar to the University of Wisconsin-Madison’s campus community, evoking memories of the civil rights movement, Vietnam War protests and anti-apartheid demonstrations.
The power in these protests came not only from the sheer volume of student participation, but because they represented a genuine expression of grassroots political activism. Today, while students still make headlines, they don’t seem to hold the same political clout they once did.
The question is: why?
This phenomenon wasn’t born out of cynicism, but rather from a sense of historical awareness. UW-Madison has been a hotbed for student activism, its campus the site of numerous movements that have shaped the university and the world beyond.
In the 1960s and 1970s, Madison was a flashpoint for anti-war protests, with students organizing sit-ins, marches and demonstrations that often brought the university to a standstill. The stakes were high then — lives were on the line. And while the issues today are no less important, there’s a sense that student protests don’t shake the system anymore.
The pro-Palestine encampment and surrounding protests were the most recent in a long line of demonstrations at UW-Madison. They were impassioned, they were necessary, but they lacked the political impact anti-war protests had decades ago.
In the aftermath, the UW-Madison quickly updated its protest policies, tightening restrictions on how and where students could gather in response to complaints from both faculty and administrators. What had once been a campus that embraced fierce student activism now curbs it, signaling a broader trend of the university diminishing the political power of student protests.
To understand why this shift feels so profound, it’s worth revisiting Madison’s history of protest. The university earned its reputation as a center for activism during the height of the Vietnam War. In 1967, an anti-draft protest turned violent when police used tear gas and batons to break up a student sit-in. The demonstration, which became known as the “Dow Chemical Protest” (named for the company recruiting on campus), is still remembered as a turning point in the national anti-war movement. Students were no longer just protesting — they were becoming a political force capable of influencing national policy.
Back in the 1960s and 1970s, protests weren’t a one-day event or a peaceful demonstration that tapered off after a few weeks. They were often grueling, all-in efforts. Students would occupy buildings for days, engage in confrontations with police and disrupt the daily flow of campus life until their demands were heard. They weren’t just there to raise awareness — they were there to force a confrontation, to shake the institution until it had no choice but to engage. These tactics were messy and often met with violence, but they had teeth.
Students were directly impacted by the decisions made in Washington during the Vietnam War, and their protests were a form of self-preservation as much as political expression due to the draft.
Today’s protests, in contrast, often unfold in a more structured, contained way. You’ll see months-long awareness campaigns, scheduled sit-ins and peaceful marches that follow university guidelines. This structure and predictability of modern protests works against their effectiveness. Rather than building up to something unmanageable, protests are now events to be accommodated, their edges softened by the very institutions they aim to challenge.
This makes the landscape of protest at UW-Madison nearly unrecognizable. The spring pro-Palestine protests were spirited but lacked the sense of tangible impact. The reason is that UW-Madison protests are now easily managed and contained by the administration.
The university’s response in spring focused on optics and minimized disruption rather than addressing the core concerns of the student body on an emotional and morally urgent issue.
In the months following the protest, campus administration announced new guidelines that restricted where and how protests could take place and said the university would maintain “institutional neutrality” on controversial matters — a clear indication the institution is more interested in controlling activism than intellectually engaging with the students as the Wisconsin Idea might suggest.
The cause of this change comes from the professionalization of activism. Today, activism has become institutionalized, with nonprofits and advocacy organizations taking the lead on many issues. This professionalization has its benefits — organizations like the ACLU or Sunrise Movement have the resources and connections to push for policy changes at a national level —– but it also means that student protests are often seen as symbolic gestures rather than serious political actions.
Moreover, the rise of social media has fundamentally changed the way protests are organized and perceived. In the 1960s, students faced great personal risk to mobilize in person, while today, organizing a protest can be as simple as creating an Instagram account or sharing a hashtag. Though this has undoubtedly democratized activism, it has also diminished its urgency — attention quickly shifts, and the pressure that once built up over a matter of months is diffused in a matter of days.
As student protests at UW-Madison and across the country face these challenges, it’s worth asking: what role do they play now?
While they may no longer have the political power they once did, they still serve an important purpose as a reminder that students still care deeply about global issues. The willingness of students to show up, to march, to chant and to risk arrest speaks volumes. It tells us that students are still watching, still caring and still fighting, even if their efforts feel ignored by an increasingly indifferent world.
Yet, it’s not enough to just show up anymore. These issues students are protesting — climate change, racial injustice, international human rights abuses — are no less critical, but they are also less concentrated. These are battles that require sustained, strategic action, not just one-off displays of passion.
UW-Madison protests must do more than revisit the tactics of the past. They must adapt, becoming not just moments of disruption but moments of endurance. The tools of protest have changed, but the spirit behind them must remain.
Students need to recognize their historical role as the conscience of society, and rather than bow to the limitations placed on them, they should push even harder, innovate and challenge in ways that the establishment isn’t ready for.
These are problems that require long-term solutions and protest, and it’s hard for any short protest to feel like it’s making a dent. It’s time for UW-Madison protests to revamp the lessons of the past, recognizing that every continual step forward brings us closer to the change we demand.
