By April 25, the confrontation at Columbia University had become a two-sided spectacle. As the Gaza Solidarity Encampment entered its second week on the lawns inside campus, a large pro-Israel counter-rally gathered on Broadway outside the university’s gates — filling the street with Israeli and American flags under the watch of the NYPD.
Hundreds of pro-Israel demonstrators crowd Broadway at the intersection of W 116th Street. Israeli and American flags fly above the crowd. An NYPD Department of Correction bus is parked at the intersection, and police officers stand at the crosswalk. The avenue stretches south toward Midtown in the fading light. April 25, 2024.
Seen from above, the scale of the counter-rally was unmistakable. The crowd stretched down Broadway from the university’s entrance, hemmed in by the stone and brick facades of Morningside Heights. Blue-and-white Israeli flags outnumbered the American flags roughly two to one. An NYPD Corrections bus sat parked at the W 116th Street intersection — a reminder that the department had come prepared for arrests if the two sides clashed.
A counter-protester shouts at the barricade line as an NYPD officer stands between her and the campus. Israeli and American flags fill the frame behind her. April 25, 2024.
At street level, the tension was visceral. A woman shouted toward the campus gates, phone raised overhead, an NYPD officer inches from her shoulder. Israeli and American flags pressed in from every direction behind her. The barricades that had been a fixture of the neighborhood for over a week now served a dual purpose — separating not just police from protesters, but two groups of New Yorkers from each other.
But the most striking vantage point of the day belonged to someone who had no stake in the debate at all.
A red-tailed hawk perches on a campus windowsill, staring directly into the camera. Behind it, through the glass, the full expanse of the Gaza Solidarity Encampment is visible — dozens of tents covering the lawn, with Morningside Heights rising in the background. April 25, 2024.
A red-tailed hawk — one of the raptors that have nested on Columbia’s campus for years — sat perched on a windowsill above the quad, staring straight into the lens. Behind it, visible through the glass, the entire encampment sprawled across the lawn below: dozens of tents in orange, blue, and gray, clustered together on the green. The Morningside Heights skyline rose beyond. The hawk, indifferent to the politics below, offered the clearest aerial view of the occupation yet — a scene no drone or helicopter had been permitted to capture from this close.
The administration’s deadline for protesters to leave had passed the day before without compliance. Negotiations were ongoing but fraying. Five days later, the standoff would end not with a deal, but with the occupation of Hamilton Hall and a second NYPD raid.