Activism or Aesthetic?

When Movements Lose Their Meaning

Is it more complicit to remain silent, or to raise your voice in a protest stripped of purpose?

In an age where social movements can trend overnight and hashtags often replace handshakes, one must ask: has activism become more about optics than outcomes? From the Freedom Convoy in Canada to global Free Palestine demonstrations, the line between informed advocacy and performative protest grows increasingly blurred. Has sensationalism overtaken sincerity? Has outrage replaced organization?

Historically, activism was a marathon, not a sprint. The U.S. civil rights movement, for instance, was a protracted struggle against systemic racism, built on strategy, education, and coalition-building. Leaders like Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr. weren’t just symbols of protest - they were tacticians. Their actions were calculated, peaceful, and designed to awaken the conscience of a nation.

Take the Montgomery Bus Boycott. Sparked by Rosa Parks’ arrest, it was a 381-day protest led by King, resulting in a Supreme Court ruling that declared segregation on public buses unconstitutional. Or the Greenboro sit-ins, where four black college students peacefully refused to leave a “Whites Only” lunch counter, inspiring thousands of similar actions across the South. And the Selma-to-Montgomery marches - particularly “Bloody Sunday,” where televised violence against protestors spurred public outcry and led directly to the Voting Rights Act.

These were not impulsive moments. They were the product of training, planning, and tremendous discipline. The goal wasn’t just to disrupt, but to reveal injustice - and win hearts and minds in the process.

The same can be said of women’s rights movements, which spanned decades and nations. The Famous Five - Emily Murphy, Henrietta Muir Edwards, Nellie McClung, Louise McKinney, and Irene Parlby - pushed for legal recognition of women as “persons” in Canada, ultimately succeeding after an initial defeat. Their battle wasn’t loud, but it changed history.

The Abortion Caravan in 1970, organized by members of the Vancouver Women’s Caucus, also made waves. Women traveled from Vancouver to Ottawa in a caravan of vehicles, staging protests and teach-ins along the way, culminating in the first-ever occupation of the House of Commons. Chaining themselves to seats in the gallery, they forced a temporary parliamentary shutdown - an act that helped propel the decriminalization of abortion in 1988.

These movements were united by vision, strategy, and staying power. They didn’t merely demand attention - they earned it by understanding their cause inside and out.

I experienced this kind of purposeful, unifying activism firsthand at the Women’s March on Washington in January 2016. Surrounded by hundreds of thousands of women - and allies - gathered in solidarity, I felt the strength of collective purpose and peaceful resistance. There was an electricity in the air, not of chaos or rage, but of courage and connection. People weren’t just showing up for a selfie or to shout into the void; they were there to stand up for equity, dignity, and the right to be seen and heard. That march reminded me that real activism doesn’t require agreement on every issue - it requires respect, empathy, and a shared commitment to justice. It was one of the most enriching and affirming experiences of my life.

Contrast that with some recent movements where the depth of understanding seems, at times, secondary to visibility. The Free Palestine protests, for instance, have seen widespread participation.  But terms like Intifada, or From the River to the Sea are often chanted without full grasp of their historical and violent connotations. In 2024, student-led pro-Palestinian protests on university campuses - dubbed the “student intifada” - called for divestment from Israel. Yet many participants appeared unfamiliar with the geopolitical complexities or historical context.

To be clear: I’m not stating whether I support or oppose the pro-Palestine movement. To be honest, I don’t understand it, but I’m trying to learn. However, I do support freedom of speech and peaceful protest. That’s a right I’m proud we have in Canada.

However, there’s been a concerning rise in antisemitic incidents tied to these demonstrations. The University of Toronto reported an elevenfold increase in such incidents across its campuses during the 2023-2024 academic year. Jewish students described feeling unsafe and targeted. A survey by Hillel International found that 61% of Jewish students at universities with encampments felt the protest language was antisemitic.

Specific cases underline these fears. At the University of Michigan, a student reported being terrified by signs that read “Long Live the Intifada” - a phrase tied to violent uprisings against Israel. At Columbia University, Jewish students were subjected to slurs and intimidation. Legal action followed: Harvard settled a lawsuit with a Jewish student who claimed the university failed to protect her. A federal judge issued an injunction at UCLA after students were allegedly barred from parts of campus unless they denounced Israel - actions deemed “abhorrent” and “unimaginable.”

Advocating for Palestinian rights is a legitimate endeavor. But it must be grounded in knowledge, respect, and dialogue - not hate speech or historical denialism. Movements must be inclusive to be effective. When protests alienate or intimidate others, they undermine their own credibility.

While the Free Palestine movement shares surface similarities with historic justice movements - mass mobilization, moral rhetoric, a call to end oppression - its methods and structure differ in key ways. Past movements were defined by consistent leadership, nonviolent discipline, and long-term goals. Today’s movements often rely on provocative soundbites, decentralized messaging, and trending hashtags. Many involved are passionate - but underinformed. 

Chants like “From the River to the Sea” may be seen by some as calls for Palestinian liberation, but to others, particularly Jewish communities, they invoke the eradication of Israel. Without unified messaging or historical literacy, the movement risks being hijacked by fringe voices or misrepresented in public discourse.

The same can be said for Canada’s 2022 Freedom Convoy. Originally organized in opposition to vaccine mandates for truckers, the movement attracted a wide range of grievances - many unrelated to its original cause. Some protestors called for the violent overthrow of the government and circulated a legally impossible “Memorandum of Understanding” demanding the removal of Prime Minister Trudeau.

Still, not all participants were extremists. Many were simply frustrated with public health measures and believed they had a right to protest. The government’s response - including invoking the Emergencies Act for the first time - was unprecedented and controversial. A federal court ruled in January 2024 that the use of the Act violated the Charter of Rights and Freedoms.

This is particularly notable when compared to pipeline protests, which also disrupted national infrastructure. In those cases, the government opted for dialogue and emphasized reconciliation rather than invoking emergency powers.

The Freedom Convoy reflected real frustration. But like many modern movements, it struggled with unity, strategy, and sustained public support. Without cohesive messaging or long-term planning, its momentum faded.

We now live in a world where activism can go viral in seconds - but fizzle out just as quickly. A cause can trend before it’s even understood. Movements once built on scholarship and solidarity are now susceptible to misinformation, online bullying, and “cancel culture.” Dissenters aren’t debated - they’re shamed.

To reclaim the true spirit of activism, we must educate before we advocate. We must understand the history and implications of the causes we champion. We must engage in respectful dialogue that welcomes questions, fosters learning, and builds bridges - not walls.

And we must be in it for the long haul. Movements don’t need more hashtags. They need heart. They need vision. They need accountability. They need to reflect the values they claim to uphold - not just in words, but in deeds.

Activism should be more than a weekend march or a viral post. It’s a commitment to informed, strategic, and inclusive action. The most successful movements weren’t the loudest or trendiest. They were the ones that turned chaos into conversation and outrage into opportunity.

Yes, modern activism is passionate - but too often, it’s fragmented, reactive, and performative. Without clear leadership, deep understanding, and purposeful strategy, today’s protests risk becoming spectacles rather than catalysts.

To restore the power of activism, we must return to its roots: knowledge, empathy, courage, and the relentless pursuit of justice - not just for the moment, but for the future.

Ⓒ June 2025. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.