I am a peace studies student at Notre Dame. I was arrested calling for peace in Gaza.

What does it mean to be a leading Catholic university? One that cultivates “a disciplined sensitivity to the poverty, injustice and oppression that weigh on the lives of so many” and aims “to create a sense of human solidarity and concern for the common good that will bear fruit as learning becomes a service to justice.” ? The one that contains one of the leading peace studies programs in the world?

And what does it mean when this university refuses to discuss whether its investments support the killing of nearly 38,000 people in Gaza?

To an oblivious outsider, it might have looked like a splendid picnic on the campus lawn. On May 2, several students were hunched over their laptops, their lecture notes spread out on fuzzy blankets, everyone was preparing for exams. On the side of the lawn, a custom-made banner depicted two women, with the inscription “Nahida & Samar Lawn” underneath, in honor of a Catholic Palestinian mother and daughter killed in Gaza.

As the students sat and talked, a delegation of university police arrived – five to six police cars surrounding the quad. The police chief warned that he would arrest anyone remaining on the lawn after 10 p.m. Student leaders said, “We will be peaceful, but we will not leave.” By the time I arrived, nearly 50 people were on the lawn, many of them wearing keffiyehs – a symbol not of terrorism, but of Palestinian liberation. No songs. No offensive gestures. Just students sitting on the courtyard, peacefully gathering to demand that Notre Dame divest from any arms manufacturers – investments that violate the seven principles of Catholic social teaching. We weren't looking to be arrested.

We don't know where Notre Dame has invested, although we do know that the university has strengthened its research partnership with Lockheed Martin – one of the largest weapons manufacturing companies – in recent years.

In the past, Notre Dame has realigned its investments according to the principles of Catholic social teaching and the USCCB investment guidelines. The school has also chosen not to allow its licensed products to be manufactured in countries that do not follow freedom of association guidelines. We believe that Notre Dame today has the capacity, precedent and potential to divest from any arms manufacturing enterprise.

A local mosque donated so many chicken sandwiches that we had almost 12 baskets left. To try to protect our belongings from the rain, we assembled a retractable awning. Ten police officers violently destroyed it. We watched.

We were informed that a dean would meet with us later. Some organizers got together to decide how we should proceed. We sat down together for a few hours – Notre Dame students, faculty and staff – hoping to engage in good faith dialogue to ensure our investments align with the values ​​of Catholic social teaching. Such investments reflect a flagrant disregard for human rights by promoting the proliferation of weapons.

As time passed and the meeting was further delayed, we began to worry. It was an encampment, after all, and we were just sitting on the outskirts of campus—soaked, with no witnesses for the police and no threat of arrest. However, we did not want to leave without demonstrating the seriousness of our commitments. So we decided to move to the God Quad – the grass in front of the Golden Dome. We didn't sing, march with signs and set up tents. A new delegation of police arrived, saying that if we did not leave before 9 p.m. we would be arrested.

The administrators finally came to meet a team of organizers. After 20 minutes, the administrators left, having completely fired us. All we asked for was a meeting for continued, good-faith dialogue on the university's investments and a reassessment of its ties with Israeli universities. They refused.

Soaked and cold from the pouring rain, 16 of us walked around the basilica, under the golden-reflecting dome, where Our Lady looks out. Our Lady who said in her Magnificat: “He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted the humble; He has filled the hungry with good things and sent away the rich empty-handed.”

We refused to be intimidated on our own campus. Another student and I sat inside the circle, armed only with cameras – I wiped the lens with my keffiyeh. Our Lady, enveloped in gold, looked down. A barrage of eight cops began to approach. “Mother Mary, pray for us now and at the hour of our death.”

After six hours of silence, only now do we join hands and start chanting “Free Palestine, free!” » Two white students are peacefully escorted by an officer. As they walk towards the van, one of them shouts: “It’s Catholic social teaching that makes us stop.” It’s following Gustavo Gutiérrez, Dorothy Day, Daniel Berrigan…” A student of color is picked up and thrown to the ground by two police officers, who quickly handcuff him. An agent plants his knee into the student's back with all his weight. This pattern persists. A third police officer pins his left knee into the student's legs. My hands shake, tears streaming down my face as I closely record my arrested friends. I prepared myself to be treated the same way. I looked up at the gold-plated Notre Dame. She looks.

Two other officers arrive and attempt to subdue another student. She sits, they lay out a tarpaulin that looks like a body bag. A male officer grabs her left arm and the policewoman raises her feet. Four officers carry her to the van on top of the bag. Another student is thrown to the ground on her stomach by two police officers who forcefully handcuff her. Finally, she is lifted up and escorted away. I hear the cops complaining that they no longer have handcuffs. Some cops come back and we chant: “No justice, no peace!” »

A student is on his knees while an officer tears off his left arm; another police officer extends his right arm and handcuffs him. A third agent restrains the student's legs. A tarpaulin tears as they try to load it. ​​They try to lift him up, but as they approach the police van, they drag his body across the ground. I think of Christ being dragged through the streets, carrying his cross. My eyes flicker from the inhumane treatment of my new friends to the shimmering Notre Dame above. She looks.

Then they come and get me. I prepare to be thrown to the ground like so many others, to have my knees behind my back, to be yelled at. They take me without force. I feel guilty. We were all arrested and transported to the holding cells under the football stadium. The 17th person arrested, a student of color who was not part of the circle, was arrested for remaining on God Quad to film our brutal treatment.

Pope Francis has emphasized a “path to peace” since October 7, when Hamas killed 1,200 Israelis and took more than 240 hostages. The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops states: “The gospel calls us to be peacemakers. Our love for all our brothers and sisters requires that we promote peace in a world surrounded by violence and conflict. »Our role as Catholic individuals and a Catholic institution is to embody Catholic social teaching by resisting war so that the heart of the Gospel can continue to breathe life into the body of Christ, the Church.

The USCCB principle of “do no harm” urges Catholic institutions to refuse to invest in businesses that run counter to Catholic doctrine – and to divest from those businesses. As thoughtful, critically-thinking academics, we knew that investing in gun manufacturers is detrimental and completely antithetical to CST. We are therefore convinced that Notre-Dame should not invest in these companies.

Of all the places God created, God incarnated about 70 km from Gaza. Our university is named for the holy woman who gave birth to the Prince of Peace, the God-turned-human who passed through Roman-occupied Palstine with the most ostracized members of society. He was brutally tortured and crucified for protesting the unjust treatment of others through his peaceful and loving actions.

Our university is named after the mother of the same divine-human who, according to the Gospel of Matthew, said: “Let the little children come to me and do not stop them; for to them the kingdom of paradise belongs. How can our university claim to believe these things if it does business with companies complicit in the murder of over 14,500 children in Gaza?

In accordance with Catholic teaching and the Catholic tradition of peace, we recall that violence in the form of war is a direct denial of fundamental rights and a serious attack on humanity. Furthermore, Catholic social teaching emphasizes the importance of solidarity and interdependence of humanity. Supporting industries that profit from war can hinder efforts to foster global solidarity and collaboration, as it places profit ahead of the common good and the well-being of individuals.

So what does it mean to be a morally committed student at a leading Catholic university when that university, home to one of the world's leading peace studies programs, is unwilling to discuss whether its investments include weapons manufacturers? It means seeking solidarity when injustice makes studying for exams insurmountable. This means not seeking to be arrested and still being arrested. This means praying, praising, communing, and, in our collective case, creating “a sense of human solidarity and concern for the common good that will bear fruit as learning becomes service for justice.”