In the spring of 2024, universities around the world blossomed with tents, banners, and chants calling for an end to the genocide of the Palestinian people. The Palestine solidarity encampments, which grew into the largest student movement of the twenty-first century, were met with gratitude from Gaza—and violent crackdowns from university administration and police.
In Japan, one of the largest solidarity encampments was established at the University of Tokyo’s Komaba campus. After setting up tents outside of the school’s library in April, students held the space for months.
Yuka, a University of Tokyo student and former member of the encampment’s steering committee, kept a diary of her experiences from April to June 2024. In an unflinching portrait of student activist life, she recounts the misogyny faced when attempting to establish the SAFER tent—a safe space for marginalized students—within the encampment, details the exhilaration of confronting university administration, and questions the role of student activism in the broader world.
The below was originally published in etc. magazine‘s [エトセトラブックスの雑誌] fall/winter 2024 issue, “Stop the War!”. etc.books is a Tokyo-based bookstore and publishing house dedicated to intersectional feminist work. This text has been translated by Katie Fustich, a writer and movement lawyer based in Cambridge, Massachusetts. You can find more of Katie’s work at katiefustich.com.
April 30, 2024
It was the first weekday since the encampment began.
This morning, there was a possibility the encampment would be torn down. I was fired up while waiting for the authorities to come. I called out to everyone, “Let’s get ready, they’re coming any minute!” but no one moved an inch. I didn’t have any choice but to ask the guys to call out, which finally got everyone moving. Such a relief that they didn’t end up coming and tearing down the encampment.
If they aren’t coming to tear down the encampment, then that means this thing is going to be long term. The things that need to be done—and the decisions that have to be made—are piling up. For one, no one is considering that women students feel like there’s a boy’s club atmosphere; meanwhile, discrimination and harassment are already happening. Just this morning, while we were waiting for the authorities, I heard a joke that made me feel sick. It’s one thing to joke around with your friends, but the encampment is full of all kinds of different people, and that’s probably how it’s going to stay.
We need to grapple with the SAFER issue, and quickly.1Translator’s Note: Throughout the piece, the author refers to the SAFER project ( セイファー). This refers to the task of organizing a safe space within the encampment—both a working group and a physical tent space—for women, queer people, and other marginalized participants of the encampment. The direction of the movement as a whole is left to the people, and I think it would be good if leadership faced this.
There’s a planning meeting later today. The agenda is a bunch of things that can’t be done right away, and my body already feels like it’s at its limit. I think I’m going to propose closing the camp for a few days.
May 3, 2024
After the steering committee meeting was over, I hurried to Shibuya to meet my friends for drinks. I reported what’s been going on with the encampment, but I was also grateful to get to talk about anything else. I’m still hanging in there.
May 6, 2024
Last week, the encampment was closed for two days while ground rules could be established, and I think the atmosphere has improved quite a bit since. Unsurprisingly, it’s pretty effective to have participants read and sign the ground rules before joining us. It’s hard to raise the idea, but I feel uneasy about the signature system. I can’t quite put into words why. We just really haven’t had much time to build a communal understanding of the ground rules.
May 7, 2024
Yesterday, we handed our written list of demands to the university. The demands were drafted with input from our most trusted comrades. I don’t think I will ever forget how I felt, printing off the documents and running together to the Student Support Office with them tightly clutched in our arms. Whatever it takes, I want them to meet our demands.
I got the chance to discuss the ground rules a bit with my comrades and feminist mentors. I’ve continued to feel uneasy about the signature system, and the whole process for establishing rules in general. It’s as though we’re being surveilled, and decisions are being made from the top down.
Of course it’s not that I think we don’t need to have rules, or that we don’t need to deal with the SAFER issue. There are definitely things about our current situation that we need to take care of. These kinds of stories are easily exploited by older, left-wing guys who just want to bash feminism and don’t understand things like discrimination or the possibility that surveillance could make minorities feel threatened. I want to have a long discussion with my feminist comrades about what it means to demand a sense of safety and to aim for equality in our relationships.
May 8, 2024
I came home from the encampment to take a bath. I was able to relax after I wrote down everything I need to do tomorrow. Then, I got in bed and scrolled on my phone. Pictures and videos from Gaza continue to flow in.
I cleaned up the trash at the encampment, organized aid supplies, coordinated with university staff, and spoke with the people who continued to arrive. The encampment is wearing me down and the horrific images being shown from Gaza make me feel dizzy. I can’t help but wonder if this will all lead to anything.
May 9, 2024
Today at the encampment, we came up with a plan to build signboards. It makes me glad to see this space, which was just a couple of tents before, turn into a proper Palestine solidarity encampment. Someone made a signboard that looks like the “I Love Gaza” monument that was destroyed. We said we should put it at the entrance of the encampment.
May 10, 2024
Another day gone in the blink of an eye. I finally went home and spent a long time looking at my phone. I’m worrying again about what we should be doing. I think everyone is feeling this way. I know it’s probably inevitable, what with being in charge of the encampment. My job, including SAFER, is to keep things going for as long as possible, to keep everyone healthy, safe from injuries, safe from harassment—and to keep the encampment going. My days are on repeat: working to maintain the encampment, talking to people, coordinating with the university. Maybe all the work I am doing to keep things going is actually going against the encampment’s goals. The sooner the university meets our demands, the sooner the encampment will end.
A ceasefire and Palestinian liberation is our goal.
In particular, I am worried about the SAFER initiatives. We need an organization like SAFER, and we were talking about writing it into the ground rules.
I visited the encampment for the first time in a while. I had a lot of worries going in—and I still do—but obviously things are still running without me. It was a little sad, if I’m being honest, but also happy at the same time. There was a lot I wasn’t able to achieve. But I think the women of the encampment will be able to.
At first we had written, “We oppose violence in all forms, including its worst form: genocide,” but now we’re discussing a new version that reflects the violence in our encampment. These things are all happening in the same world and it’s critical that we don’t separate them. We are connected and no one is free until we are all free. This foundation was laid by those who came before us. But can it all be so easily connected? I’m not saying the degree of violence is the same—of course not. But male-dominated movements will say things like, “Atrocities are happening in Gaza, so you should suck it it up when bad things happen here.” In order to resist this way of thinking, we need to be making these connections. Anyway, anyway. I came home for a bit, scrolled around on social media, and felt overwhelmed by the encampment and what’s happening in Gaza. I’m still asking myself whether it’s okay to be making that connection.
May 11, 2024
Today, we held a reading group of “The Day the Subway Ran in Gaza” by Mari Oka. Everyone read with profound emotion.
It ended up being a space for everyone to gather and share what they’ve been feeling.
Just before the reading group began, the SAFER tent arrived. We delayed the reading group by a few minutes so we could all put up the tent. I’ve been saying I want to put up a SAFER tent, and now it’s real.
Part of me was worried that having the SAFER tent would end up further segregating minorities within the movement. But after speaking with different people, we came to the conclusion that the encampment needs this space. I think it’s important to have a place to go when things feel difficult. By the time the SAFER tent is fully up and running, I will no longer be at the camp.
I wrote down everything I’ve been thinking about since the encampment began, so there will be a record of one of the people who created this space.
May 12, 2024
The Nakba Day demonstration is coming up soon. We finalized everything with the university. As far as I know, it’s going to be the first demonstration on campus since 2021. It still feels like everyone is being pushed to their limit. Someone brought us a Turkish dish called takuv pilaf.
It was insanely delicious. We all relished every bite.
May 13, 2024
Just three days until our demonstration. I got up early, went out into the rain, and put flyers for the demo on desks throughout various classrooms. I discussed a bunch of things with two members who recently joined the encampment’s steering committee. Since the activist spaces at this school are always filled with the same kind of people, there are a lot of times where we don’t even need to verbalize things properly, and we can just share freely.
When I talk to people who aren’t like that, I feel like they’re not even thinking about anything.
May 17, 2024
Yesterday, my time at the encampment came to an end.
I said I would just be going on a long break, but actually I might not return depending on the circumstances. Yesterday we had our demonstration and I was feeling a bit bummed because I was basically running around for two hours and didn’t get to hear the speeches. Then, when I went back and watched the video recordings, I ended up sobbing.
May 24, 2024
I got to spend a long time talking with a comrade who did the encampment with me. I asked her about something that’s been on my mind: How much of an impact would there be if the university accepts our demands? I was glad she answered. Her words brought me back to the central focus of the Palestine encampments. I always end up taking these circuitous paths and getting myself stuck.
May 30, 2024
I went on a trip. I visited a Palestinian solidarity encampment in England. This morning, we chilled and talked about many different things—tactics, management, and so on. I realized they have a lot of the same concerns as I did. I was encouraged to hear that some encampments, who have been sticking with it for months at a time, are actually getting universities to meet their demands.
Now that I have had some time and distance away from the encampment, I’ve been starting to reflect on my time there. I feel like my feminist and queer comrades must have thought I was always irritated. It was hard to complain about the negative atmosphere at the camp. I felt like everything was my responsibility—and I actually did have some say, so it made it worse. It felt like a personal attack on me and my efforts when people would engage in discriminatory behavior. I can’t forget the things that were said to me at first. Like, “You have to do something about those ridiculous guys since you are the one who invited them to the camp in the first place.” I get it, I know. But those guys didn’t listen to anything I had to say anyway, so what was I supposed to do? I felt so full of anger, thinking, “Why is it my job to educate these guys I am just meeting for the first time?” I wanted to fight together and build together with my feminist and queer comrades. Clearly I’m having trouble putting distance between myself and these things.
June 9, 2024
I visited the encampment for the first time in a while. I had a lot of worries going in—and I still do—but obviously things are still running without me. It was a little sad, if I’m being honest, but also happy at the same time. There was a lot I wasn’t able to achieve. But I think the women of the encampment will be able to.
I know in my head that it’s important not to get stuck on the encampment for too long. I have to leave the comfort of the familiar student movements and community, and think about the different shapes my activism can take. I’m just the tiniest bit anxious.