In times when repression silences voices and mainstream media distort just causes, documentaries like The Encampments become indispensable. Directed by Kei Pritsker and Michael T. Workman, this film urgently yet rigorously captures the spark of a movement that marked a turning point: the Gaza Solidarity Encampment set up on the lawns of Columbia University in April 2024. Faced with the massacre of thousands of Palestinian civilians and the systematic destruction of homes in Gaza, a group of students decided to pitch tents at the heart of one of the most prestigious universities in the United States. Their demand was clear: that Columbia divest from companies manufacturing the weapons used to annihilate Palestinian families. Far from the superficial narrative that criminalizes any gesture of solidarity with Palestine, The Encampments offers a human and courageous portrait of young people who, with determination and conviction, broke from academic comfort to demand justice.

What sets this documentary apart from a mere chronicle of protest is the intimacy with which Pritsker and Workman follow the organizers. Among them stands out Mahmoud Khalil, a student and key negotiator whose calm voice and steady gaze embody Palestinian hope. The bitter irony is that while he was raising his voice for his people’s rights, Khalil was later detained by immigration agents without a warrant — a clear attempt to intimidate and punish peaceful dissent. In less than 80 minutes, the film achieves what major reports often fail to do: it restores dignity to those whom the official narrative labeled “antisemites” or “radicals.” The students who pitched their tents at Columbia did not call for violence or deny anyone’s suffering. Their only “crime” was to confront the hypocrisy of an institution that flaunts its progressive legacy while profiting from the arms industry fueling occupation and genocide.

Two organizations — Jewish Voice for Peace and Students for Justice in Palestine — led the coordination of the encampment, simultaneously dismantling the narrative that supporting Palestine means denying Jewish identity or fostering hatred. Nothing could be further from the truth: the sight of Jewish students standing shoulder to shoulder with Palestinians and allies of all races and faiths is one of the film’s most powerful images. The solidarity that permeates these scenes starkly contrasts with the hostility of Zionist groups who showed up to harass and assault peaceful protesters. In an era where information travels at lightning speed, some might think releasing a documentary so soon could be a mistake. But the context demands immediacy: as the interviews were being filmed, new protests were springing up like echoes on campuses across the United States. The crackdown grew too. Images of New York police tearing down the tents at Columbia went around the world, reminding us that institutional violence is not confined to Gaza — it replicates itself wherever legitimate protest is silenced.

But The Encampments is not a record of defeat. Above all, it is a testament to hope. The participation of Bisan Owda, a journalist from Gaza, creates a vital bridge between the student struggle and daily life in the Gaza Strip. Her final message, calm yet devastating, reminds us that solidarity is not merely symbolic: it fuels the certainty that the Palestinian people are not alone. That from a university campus, a voice can cross oceans to embrace those resisting under bombs. The documentary also exposes the double standard of universities like Columbia, which glorify their history of rebellion against the Vietnam War while expelling and criminalizing students who now demand ethical consistency. Far from crushing the movement, repression sparked more awareness. The tents at Columbia were replicated at UCLA, NYU, and other universities, all woven from the same thread: the conviction that education must serve justice, not the war business.

It’s impossible not to see Mahmoud Khalil as a symbol of everything at stake. His immigration detention shows that political persecution no longer needs criminal excuses. It’s a clear message: raising your voice for Palestine — even within legal bounds — can cost you your freedom. But it’s also a reminder of why we must never stay silent.