On a humid August morning in Washington, DC, the city’s subway platforms buzzed with tension, not just from the summer heat but from a federal police presence that had become impossible to ignore. It was here, at the Navy Yard station, that 28-year-old activist Afeni Evans was thrown to the ground and pepper-sprayed by Metro Transit Police officers for what they claimed was fare evasion. Evans, a well-known youth organizer, was there with other volunteers from Harriet’s Wildest Dreams, conducting a “cop watch” to monitor the effects of President Donald Trump’s recent federal takeover of the city’s police force. Their mission: to protect Black youth from harassment. Yet, as fate would have it, Evans herself became the latest symbol of the crackdown she sought to resist.
The incident, which unfolded on August 15, 2025, quickly galvanized the city. As news spread of Evans’ arrest, public protests erupted both in the streets of DC and across social media. By the next day, Evans was released to jubilant crowds outside the courthouse, and all charges against her were dropped. But the episode was just the latest flashpoint in a broader struggle over civil liberties and federal authority in the nation’s capital.
The roots of the current crisis trace back to August 11, when President Trump issued an executive order placing DC’s police force under federal control. Citing what he described as an “increase in violent crime in the heart of our Republic,” Trump argued that drastic measures were needed to protect vital federal functions. “Crime is out of control in the District of Columbia,” the order declared. Yet, according to a joint report from the US Attorney’s Office in DC and the Metropolitan Police Department at the start of 2025, the city’s violent crime rate had actually dropped by 35% in 2024, reaching its lowest point since the mid-1990s. Armed carjackings, a particular focus of Trump’s rhetoric, were down 53%.
So why the sudden move? The immediate trigger appeared to be a carjacking on August 5, when two teenagers assaulted Edward Coristine, a 19-year-old former government staffer, in DC’s Logan Circle. Trump seized on the event, vowing, “We’re going to do something about it. That includes bringing in the National Guard.” But even here, the facts undercut the narrative: the alleged carjackers were from Hyattsville, Maryland—not DC itself.
For many Washingtonians, Trump’s intervention felt less like a response to crime and more like a calculated show of force—one with deep racial and political undertones. DC, after all, remains a majority-minority city, with Black residents making up 43% of the population, compared to 39% who are white. And in the 2024 presidential election, more than 90% of DC voters cast their ballots for former Vice President Kamala Harris over Trump. In this context, the imposition of hundreds of National Guard soldiers and a beefed-up police presence struck many as a not-so-subtle message: dissent, especially from Black, Brown, and Queer communities, would not be tolerated.
The impact has been particularly acute along the city’s vibrant 14th Street and U Street corridors, where checkpoints and federal agents have become a regular sight. According to Al Jazeera, the crackdown has led to dozens of arrests and has suffocated nightlife and business traffic in neighborhoods long known as safe spaces for LGBTQIA+ residents, migrants, and people of color. “It’s more than a distraction from the Epstein files controversy or America’s economic troubles,” the outlet observed, pointing to the partial end of DC’s half-century of home rule and the chilling effect on the city’s storied tradition of protest.
Indeed, Washington, DC’s legacy as a site of resistance runs deep. From the March on Washington in 1963, to antiwar demonstrations in the late 1960s and 1970s, to the 2017 Women’s March and the George Floyd protests in 2020, the city has played host to some of the most consequential movements in American history. But the current wave of federal intervention is not without precedent. In 2018, the National Park Service sought to shrink protest space around the White House by 80% and introduce permit fees for demonstrations. On June 1, 2020, the National Guard and US Park Police used tear gas and concussion grenades on peaceful protesters at Lafayette Square, clearing the way for Trump’s now-infamous photo op at St. John’s Church. And in May 1971, President Richard Nixon deployed the National Guard against antiwar demonstrators, resulting in over 12,000 arrests in just three days.
This latest chapter, however, comes against the backdrop of a nationwide debate over protest, surveillance, and academic freedom. On August 21, 2025, more than 30 privacy and civil rights organizations—including Amnesty International USA and the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee—sent a letter to leaders of 60 major US universities, demanding that they dismantle campus surveillance and data collection systems. The coalition’s message was clear: universities must protect student protesters from government retaliation and resist pressure from the Trump administration to crack down on demonstrations, especially those related to pro-Palestinian activism.
“We are open-eyed to the financial pressure that all campuses are under,” said Golnaz Fakhimi, legal director for Muslim Advocates, which joined in signing the letter. “But we think this is the moment for all campuses to hunker down and hold the line against government interference.” The letter called on schools to refuse cooperation with law enforcement seeking to surveil, detain, or deport students, to secure and delete sensitive data, and to reject restrictions on masks worn by protesters. It also urged universities to prevent doxxing and to dismantle surveillance systems altogether. “Without immediate action, surveillance tools and the data they amass will be used to supercharge the virulent attacks on campus communities,” the letter warned.
The call to action comes as several universities, including Columbia, have faced mounting pressure from the Trump administration. Just last month, Columbia agreed to pay more than $220 million to restore federal research funding that had been canceled over allegations of antisemitism on campus. Many schools have responded to the wave of pro-Palestinian protests in spring 2024 by introducing new security measures and protest guidelines—steps that civil liberties advocates argue only fuel a climate of fear and repression.
Will Owen of the Surveillance Technology Oversight Project, another signatory to the letter, put it bluntly: “Surveillance does not make a university safer. It chills free speech, endangers students who speak out against injustice and it’s really essential for campuses to protect their communities from the threat.”
As federal authorities tighten their grip on Washington, DC and universities across the country, the stakes for democracy and dissent have rarely felt higher. With a history of protest that stretches back generations, the capital’s residents—and their allies nationwide—find themselves once again at the front lines, determined to defend the freedoms that have long defined the American experiment.
In a city where the echoes of past struggles still reverberate through the streets, the question remains: can the spirit of resistance endure in the face of unprecedented federal overreach? For now, at least, the answer can be found in the defiant chants of protesters and the unwavering resolve of those who refuse to be silenced.
