At 5:30 a.m. on June 5, 2024, with hammers and crowbars in hand, anti-Israel student protesters broke into Building 10, barricaded the entrances, doused the interior with fake blood and destroyed furniture. Protesters outside defaced the sandstone of Main Quad with graffiti calling for the murder of police officers, the death of America and the death of Israel. They also defaced a memorial to American veterans.

In sum, the students injured a public safety officer and caused an estimated $700,000 in property damage. Twelve of these students — those who were apprehended inside Building 10 — were charged with felony vandalism and conspiracy to trespass. Now my peers are calling for their amnesty.

Last week, The Daily published an opinion piece by one of my peers titled, “Drop the felony charges against student protesters.” At the time of writing, there were 1,647 signatures on a petition that calls on the Santa Clara DA’s office to drop the charges against the so-called “Stanford 12.” These “advocates” are not calling for reduced charges or for the prosecution to weigh mitigating factors. They demand full amnesty. 

The argument to halt the prosecution of these individuals is not hinged on the facts of the case but rather on the presumption that the righteousness of the anti-Israel cause outweighs the criminality of their actions. Last week’s opinion author plainly asked, “Why is smearing fake blood in a vacant office considered illegal vandalism, while Stanford’s complicity in a genocide that has killed 50,000 people and injured 120,000 is perfectly legal?” This so-called complicity stems from the assumption that Stanford’s endowment is invested, indirectly and perhaps minimally, in companies with ties to Israel. Putting aside the journalistic malpractice in uncritically citing Hamas statistics — in what world does Stanford’s investment portfolio nullify the illegality of vandalism?  

The idea that political conviction can excuse criminal conduct is precisely what our justice system was designed to resist. We are a nation of laws, not of men, and the judiciary’s insulation from political pressure acts to ensure that justice is not swayed by the passions of the crowd. Artistic depictions of Lady Justice always include her with a blindfold over her eyes, holding the scales of justice, signifying that impartiality, fairness and an assessment of the relevant facts underscore our judicial system. Why, then, are there appeals to drop the charges?

These students and their supporters seek to remove the metaphorical blindfold of Lady Justice and prosecute cases following a subjective ideological standard: not whether the accused actually violated the law but whether the accused’s motivations are aligned with their own. If Stanford’s vandals had caused the same destruction in the name of a pro-Israel cause, would these people still demand amnesty?

The dark and poisoning belief that extrajudicial violence deserves impunity when committed in the name of a so-called righteous cause is a disease plaguing this generation of Americans. It is the same belief that justifies Hamas’ October 7 attack and decries any Israeli response. It is the same belief that supports the senseless murder of two Israeli diplomats in Washington, D.C., and seeks amnesty for their killer. It is the same belief that seeks to free the alleged assassin of the UnitedHealthcare CEO. For those seeking impunity, it is not the factuality of the crime that is questioned or the quality of evidence available to the prosecution but whether the purpose of the crime narrowly aligns with the black-and-white moralistic worldview of the crowd.

When the world is split into right and wrong, oppressor and oppressed, one is able to waive the standard of equal justice under the law; he is able to ignore violations of the law for the ingroup while weaponizing the law against the outgroup. The issue lies in the inherent subjectivity of what constitutes each of these groups, and the fact that life is too often a shade of gray.

This is not to say that the law is always just, and it is not to say that violation of the law has not played an important role in American social progress. In those cases, however, the perpetrators, out of their respect for law, were willing to face the associated consequences. 

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (who once called Israel’s right to exist as a state in security “incontestable”) articulated this belief in his “Letter from a Birmingham Jail:”

One who breaks an unjust law must do it openly [the “Stanford 12” covered their faces with masks] […] and with a willingness to accept the penalty. […] Of course, there is nothing new about this kind of civil disobedience. It was seen sublimely in the refusal of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to obey the laws of Nebuchadnezzar. […] To a degree, academic freedom is a reality today because Socrates practiced civil disobedience. I submit that an individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and willingly accepts the penalty […] is in reality expressing the very highest respect for law.

Besides lacking the moral basis and methods of King’s nonviolence, it seems that the protesters also lack his courage: the courage to pay the consequences of their so-called civil disobedience. Socrates drank the hemlock, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were thrown into Nebuchadnezzar’s furnace, and Dr. King famously refused to be bailed out of jail. These protesters are not facing execution and likely won’t face jail time either — the Santa Clara DA has publicly stated that he prefers that the charged receive a sentence of community service: “You trashed a building, so your punishment should be cleaning things up.” Nevertheless, the crowd calls for impunity.

Three days after the ransacking of Building 10, I interviewed Dr. Clarence B. Jones, one of Dr. King’s most trusted advisors and the man who in 1963 visited Dr. King in jail to smuggle out the handwritten manuscript of the “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.” I showed Dr. Jones the images of the graffiti that littered campus — “Death to AmeriKKKa,” “Death to Israhell” (sic), “Kill Cops.” He shook his head in disgust.

Doubtless, causing hundreds of thousands of dollars in property damage, injuring a public safety officer, and desecrating Stanford’s campus with graffiti that calls for the death of America does nothing to end a fictitious genocide in Gaza. But even for those who approve of both the means and intended ends of the protesters’ actions, the desire to halt the prosecution against them marks a new low. 

“Among free men,” wrote President Lincoln, “there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and […] they who take such appeal are sure to lose their case, and pay the cost.” Here in America, we are those free men; the institution of democracy paired with the right to peaceful protest nullifies the would-be effectiveness of political violence.

Clearly, this maxim was not understood by Stanford’s vandals. Even still, in the days of old, those who broke the law to advance a political goal took legal responsibility for their actions. Depending on the circumstances, there may even be nobility in that. My peers’ wish, on the other hand, to commit crime unimpeded by the reality of consequences is worrisome and embarrassing. These protesters are not heroic. They are cowards.

Kevin Khadavi ’26 is a junior studying Classics.