EDITORIAL
THE HARVARD CRIMSON
APRIL 14, 2023
STAFF EDITORIAL
DISSENT
Swatting and the Systemic Effects of Policing on Campus
This Was an Appropriate Police Response
WE HOPE HARVARD will pursue justice to the fullest extent of the law — and its internal procedures, should the perpetrator be an affiliate — to deter similar appalling events. BY THE CRIMSON EDITORIAL BOARD
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ust last week, at least five armed Harvard University Police Department officers raided a suite of four Black seniors in Leverett House in response to a false 911 call. While we are glad that there was no actual threat and no physical harm to the students, we must acknowledge that the students were hardly left emotionally unscathed. To be woken up at 4 a.m. in the morning to the banging knocks and bellows to “open up” of police officers dressed in full riot gear, who then order you out of your suite at gunpoint, is not only unnerving but also deeply traumatic. We can only imagine how, considering the pronounced historical record of fatal outcomes between police officers and Black people, the stakes of the encounter were heightened for the four students involved. We therefore condemn, in the strongest terms possible, the individual who made the call, as well as swatting at large. We hope Harvard will pursue justice to the fullest extent of the law — and its internal procedures, should the perpetrator be an affiliate — to deter similar appalling events. In this attack, we see again how a militarized campus police presence can be weaponized to terrorize Black students. This incident therefore warrants, yet again, a discussion of the failure of policing on campus. As we have opined before, HUPD is just like a city police force — but a worse one that Harvard pays for. Accordingly, it is not immune to the issues that plague militarized police units. One on-campus activist group estimated in 2020 that our University spends $20 million annually on HUPD, which by and large deals with cases of property theft and suspiciously defined “suspicious activity.” Such an institution does not end crime or poverty, but pushes us to imagine a more equitable, peaceful solution to these issues. The weaponization of policing against Black students is only possible because policing is spe-
cifically a construct of anti-Blackness. In the history of the United States, police patrols were first created to respond to early Black resistance in the form of slave uprisings. These tactics went on to inform how policing is used broadly against communities of color today. None of this understanding of policing’s institutional history appeared in the University’s response to the attack. The administrative response failed to acknowledge that the students were Black, a fact that significantly contextualizes the weight held by this event. The woefully underwhelming email makes only passing references to affected communities, whom it directs towards a generic list of mental health and wellbeing resources. We are further dismayed that it took over 48 hours for administrators to string together this response to publicly acknowledge and condemn the swatting attack for the first time — longer than it took The Crimson to report on it. When it comes to what’s happening on our campus, we deserve transparency from the people who run it. As our community continues to grapple with the effects of this event, we need to understand what actions are being undertaken in the investigation, and why. Harvard must take proactive steps to prevent swatting in general, especially given the recent increase in these violent attacks. But the University should also consider the resulting harms as they relate to historically marginalized populations on this campus — a line of inquiry that should move the University to stop perpetuating a policing system weaponized against Black students. Until then, we extend our support and voices to the four students most affected by this deeply tragic, unfathomable event. As The Crimson’s Editorial Board, our range is often limited to words on newsprint — but we hope that, in the aftermath of this incident, those impacted can also feel the collective concern and aching hearts that penned these words.
–This staff editorial solely represents the majority view of The Crimson Editorial Board. It is the product of discussions at regular Editorial Board meetings. In order to ensure the impartiality of our journalism, Crimson editors who choose to opine and vote at these meetings are not involved in the reporting of articles on similar topics.
BY KANISHKA J. REDDY AND IVOR K. ZIMMERMAN
I
n the early morning just last Monday, four students in Leverett House became the victims of swatting — the act of making an illegitimate emergency call designed to harass a target by provoking an armed police response. What resulted was a shocking and terrifying moment for all students on campus, and we recognize the profound trauma of those directly affected. We join the Editorial Board in offering support to the four Black students that were woken up at gunpoint by Harvard University Police Department officers. We also agree with the Board’s call for a thorough and transparent investigation. And we similarly find the College’s lackluster support disappointing, and hope that they will overall address the situation more directly and openly. However, the Editorial Board’s renewed criticism of HUPD and militarized policing is, in this case, misguided and detrimental to student safety. We are concerned with the Board’s refusal to acknowledge the importance of a campus police presence, and its failure to imagine a scenario in which the threat that triggered the swatting was real. According to the update by HUPD Chief Victor A. Clay, the caller warned HUPD that they were armed, claimed that they had unsuccessfully attempted to kill a hostage, and threatened to shoot any responding officers. While the threat turned out to be a hoax, it was certainly credible. We are thankful HUPD took appropriate action.
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In instances like these, it is necessary to have an appropriately armed and trained police force. As the Board has previously argued, we are the generation of mass shootings. While disturbing, it is not hard to imagine a mass shooting event on our own campus. In instances like these, it is necessary to have an appropriately armed and trained police force. Beyond their flawed logic about police abolition, the Board fails to recognize that the abolition of HUPD would not remove police presence on campus, but rather largely replace HUPD with the Cambridge Police Department. The
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problems attributed by the Board to HUPD as a policing institution also exist within CPD and are in fact magnified by its relative unfamiliarity with Harvard’s community and campus. HUPD’s acute knowledge of College buildings and culture informed their response on April 3, in alerting officers to the caller’s familiarity with how Leverett rooms are colloquially referenced; this benefit, among others, would be lost were we to abolish Harvard’s police.
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The Editorial Board’s renewed criticism of HUPD and militarized policing is, in this case, misguided and detrimental to student safety. Furthermore, it appears that the University must have some level of recourse and oversight over its eponymous police force in HUPD. Although imperfect, this accountability would disappear if HUPD were abolished and CPD filled the policing void — making situations like the swatting at Leverett even less safe for all involved. Ultimately, we reject the Board’s characterization of the swatting as a consequence of militarized policing. In fact, this incident demonstrates the need — especially at an institution like Harvard — for a police force that is familiar with the community and able to respond actively to threats of violence. The caller bears full responsibility for the chain of events their call provoked. The trauma caused was the result of their actions alone. We hope that the caller will be punished appropriately, and that the affected students receive the support and acknowledgement they deserve from the University and the Harvard community. But faulting the existence of policing on cam-
–Kanishka J. Reddy ’24, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a Government concentrator in Adams House. Ivor K. Zimmerman ’23, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a Classics concentrator in Kirkland House. Dissenting Opinions: Occasionally, The Crimson Editorial Board is divided about the opinion we express in a staff editorial. In these cases, dissenting board members have the opportunity to express their opposition to staff opinion.
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OP-ED
What Happens to a Dream Interrupted? BY LYNDON C. WARD AND CHRISTOPHER D. WRIGHT
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n Langston Hughes’ poem “Harlem,” he famously meditates on the question: “What happens to a dream deferred?” Hughes implies that even when faced with systemic neglect, dreams attempt to “explode” forward. No obstacle of delay, regardless of magnitude, can stop one. As long as we can dream, we will pursue them. So then, it stands to reason: The only way to stop a dream is to interrupt it. Around 4:15 a.m. on April 3, the dreams of four Black Harvard students were interrupted. That morning, armed Harvard University Police Department officers raided an undergraduate suite in Leverett House in response to a false 911 call. After more than 48 hours of silence on the matter, Dean Rakesh Khurana sent an email around 10 p.m. on April 5 to the Harvard undergraduate body. The email conveyed a sense of trepidation within the Harvard community, noting that any incident of this kind dispenses “implications, fears, and trauma” in a way that hits close to home for a lot of stu-
dents of color. For Black students, those anxieties stem from a violent history of Black dreams being interrupted. But despite this history, the word Black cannot be found once in the entire email. Although it certainly existed earlier, this historical trauma can be traced back to the Ku Klux Klan. The first iteration of the KKK was founded shortly after the end of the Civil War to terrorize minorities. Then began their night rides. The White supremacist group would ride at night, in armed gangs, raiding Black home after Black home with the sole intention of instilling fear. A message was clear: There was to be no sanctuary or retreat found in Black homes. Black families were left restless by the onslaught, staying on guard and depriving themselves of sleep for fear of violence. There was no time and no place to dream. Fast forward to the Civil Rights Movement. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on August 28, 1963, pronounced to the whole world that he had a dream. His words helped to launch a renaissance, brimming with hope: His dream was partially realized in the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965.
But this progress didn’t stop the cycle of interruption plaguing Black dreams. On April 4, 1968, King was assassinated. At the same time, Black Power organizations like the Black Panther Party sought to create spaces for Black dreams to flourish through active resistance. However, this movement was met with the same response. Around 4:30 a.m. on December 4, 1969, 14 armed Chicago police officers raided the home of Hampton and fired over 90 bullets at a sleeping 21-year-old Fred Hampton — murdering him. This pattern doesn’t end in the 1960s. Just three years ago, on March 13, 2020, a little past midnight, at least seven police officers in Louisville, Kentucky used a battering ram to execute a no-knock raid at the apartment of Breonna Taylor. Her residence was breached. 32 rounds were fired. And in the comfort of her own home, Breonna Taylor was killed. The swatting attack that took place this past Monday was not an isolated incident — it can be strung together with a lengthy history of disturbances to Black dreams. The waking terror of having our dreams interrupted has followed us to the present. Always prevented from getting rest, overworked
Black bodies grow tired. Long-term patterns of fractured sleep caused by unease have been shown to lead to adverse physical and mental health effects. The basic object of sleep has become restricted. The harm has been done. Dreams are revolutionary. The imagination spurred from rest manifests into tangible inspiration. It would not be a stretch to say dreams shape America’s reality. In fact, the foundation of America is a dream. The American Dream contends that prosperity can be achieved through determination and hard work. Yet, it is apparent that not everyone in America is allowed to dream. Time and time again, Black dreams are left unsettled. Under sheets and blankets, security should be expected, but only worry is found. The worry intrudes the mind and forces us to ask: Is the safety of my own home the next facade to fall? Let us sleep. We just want to dream.
–Lyndon C. Ward ’25 is an Applied Mathematics concentrator in Cabot House. Christopher D. Wright ’25, a Crimson Sports Comp Director, is a Government concentrator in Cabot House.
