The university sees us as a threat’, says Leiden University College student Carla Barranco. She is an End Fossil Occupy activist and one of the speakers at the ‘community conversation’ on the university’s security policy, held on Monday evening in a lecture hall at the Wijnhaven building in The Hague. ‘When we occupied two classrooms in the Lipsius building in Leiden last November, and were then dragged out by security guards and police, some of the security guards called us “terrorists”.’
‘And fascists’, shouts a student from the packed hall. People are sitting on the steps and extra chairs are being brought in. It seems there are no supporters of the university’s security policy present.
Barranco continues: ‘Apparently, students who want to change things at this university are seen as terrorists. When End Fossil Occupy organises a meeting in a university building, our LU-Cards are checked and sometimes photographed; our bags are checked as well.’
The university’s Security Department is constantly monitoring us, she says. ‘We even had a mole in our chat group. Every single time, the university knew what we were planning. It’s making us paranoid. This security isn’t here to protect us, but to make us live in fear.’
CHASED
‘Add to that the fact that the security is not very good at assessing situations’, says Ghali Bahbouhi of action group Students for Palestine, a student at LUC. A panel discussion on Palestine was banned by the university because the moderator was supposedly not impartial.
‘When we called for attention to the university’s involvement in the Gaza genocide at Wijnhaven on 9 November, it turned into a Tom and Jerry episode. We were chased by security until we fled into a clothes shop.’ ‘At least the university’s approach is generating a lot of attention for our cause’, he adds cynically.
Bahbouhi feels that both Students for Palestine and End Fossil are given very little space. ‘Anything that threatens the status quo is now suddenly being labelled as political and sensitive. Ties with the fossil industry: sensitive. Palestinians: sensitive. And looking too brown or black: also sensitive.’ Several members of the audience agree that the university security is guilty of ethnic profiling.
Barranco: ‘According to rector Hester Bijl, the university is not a place for politics, but somehow there is plenty of room for discussion on the war in Ukraine. Doesn’t that count as politics? Or are our politics not mainstream enough? Who is the judge of that? Not the students in any case.’
Last year, the Wijnhaven building was closed from 13 to 15 October because of a threat. The nature of that threat was never disclosed. However, there are constant access checks at the Wijnhaven building where all visitors are required to show their LU-Card. There are hardly any checks at other university buildings, with the exception of the Law School.
NEW SYSTEM
‘The tight security measures at Wijnhaven have been in place for some time now’, says assistant professor of international relations Hilde van Meegdenburg. ‘And there is no end in sight; this is normalisation of security. In fact, security is only being tightened up.’ According to her, the university is working on a new system for guest registration. ‘They will need to be registered before arriving here. They will be given a QR code that is scanned upon entry. What does the university plan on doing with all this stored data? Will there be background checks on guests?’
Van Meegdenburg conducts research into, among other things, the so-called securitisation theory: if a state or institution assesses that there is a threat, they are very quick to take security measures. This is not always an open and democratic process. ‘Take for example the security at Campus The Hague. The securitisation took place behind closed doors: students and staff were faced with the measures, but never given an explanation, resulting in a lot of speculation and a growing sense of unsafety among students and staff. Who or what is being protected here, and against what threat? We don’t know... Am I the threat?’
That feeling resonates with the audience. ‘I want to be able to walk into the building without any hassle’, says an audience member. ‘I feel like I’m at an airport where I could be singled out and examined from top to bottom. I’ve had the displeasure of experiencing that and don’t want that atmosphere here.’
A group of students, staff and alumni who are completely fed up with the security measures have drafted a petition calling on the Board to put an end to the checks and keep university buildings as publicly available as possible. They also want to know why the measures were introduced in the first place. They believe the Board will only be able to regain the trust of students and staff if there is much more transparency regarding decision-making. The petition has already been signed 523 times.
CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE
Action can yield results, says Francesco Ragazzi, associate professor of international relations. ‘Through excellent reporting in Mare, we found out that the Board had installed 371 smart cameras that violated our privacy and had failed to inform and consult the university community.’ Action group Unsee Us, in which Ragazzi is involved, then got the Board to remove the cameras through national media coverage and pressure from the University Council.
He emphasises that not only were there protests, but, ‘most importantly’, there was constant dialogue with university administrators, security officers and building managers. ‘The alliance of staff, students, a number of deans and the University Council was what made the campaign a success. If that hadn’t worked, we would have continued campaigning through civil disobedience.’ ‘Maybe we don’t need organised action against the checks, should the petition be unsuccessful’, says someone in the room. ‘Maybe we should all just decide to stop showing our LU-Cards at the entrance.’
At the end of the meeting, people are asked to leave a message on the whiteboard in the room.
With a green marker, a student writes: ‘No cops on campus.’