In the popular memory of the 1960s and 70s, the images of student rebellion often center on the radicalism of Berkeley, the occupation of Columbia, or the tragedy of Kent State. Yet, in the spring of 1970, one of the most intense and sustained confrontations between students and the state took place in an unlikely location: the University of Maryland, College Park.
For years, Maryland had been a relatively quiet campus. While the “Ancient City” of St. Augustine or the streets of Chicago were burning, College Park maintained a small core of activists. Protests against civil rights injustices, military recruiters, and the CIA usually drew modest crowds of 100 to 200 students. But in the spring of 1970, a perfect storm of local grievances and national outrage ignited the campus, leading to two separate occupations by the National Guard and a month of fire, tear gas, and radicalization.
The Spark: Tenure and Skinner Hall
The ignition did not begin with the Vietnam War, but with the internal politics of academia. In March 1970, the university administration denied tenure to two popular professors, sparking an immediate outcry. Students, feeling that they had no voice in the policies that governed their education, demanded a greater say in university affairs.
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On the night of March 23, 1970, the frustration boiled over. Hundreds of students marched to Skinner Hall and began a sit-in. The scene was tense; as night fell, protesters confronted police outside the building, their faces illuminated by the flickering streetlights and camera flashes. The occupation lasted into the early morning hours of March 24, when police moved in with force. Eighty-seven students were arrested, dragged from the hall, and hauled to the Hyattsville courthouse.
The crackdown had the opposite effect of what the administration intended. Rather than quenching the fire, the arrests served as a catalyst. A student-faculty activist group was formed, and by April 6, thousands of students were gathering on the steps of McKeldin Library. They weren’t just protesting tenure anymore; they were protesting the very nature of authority on their campus.
The Explosion: Cambodia and the Road to Route 1
While the tenure crisis simmered, President Richard Nixon provided the ultimate accelerant. On April 30, 1970, he announced the invasion of Cambodia, an escalation of the Vietnam War that many saw as a betrayal of his promises to wind down the conflict.
The response at Maryland was instantaneous. The small demonstrations of the past were gone, replaced by mass mobilization. On May 1, the anger spilled off the campus and onto U.S. Route 1, the major artery connecting College Park to Washington, D.C.
The scene on Route 1 was one of chaos. Students occupied the highway, blockading traffic with their bodies and makeshift barricades. The state’s response was brutal. State police charged south on Route 1 near Calvert Road, swinging billy clubs and deploying “pepper foggers”—large machines that spewed thick clouds of irritating chemicals. One iconic and harrowing image from that day shows a student beaten by police, his blood staining the asphalt as he was dragged away.
Police didn’t stop at the road. They pursued students into the dormitories, dragging them out of their rooms. On the campus mall, students fought back with the only tools they had, grabbing fire extinguishers to suppress the tear gas canisters being fired into their ranks. The air around Cecil Hall was thick with chemicals, and the “quiet” campus had become a war zone.
Kent State and the National Strike
If the Cambodia invasion started the fire, the events of May 4 turned it into a conflagration. When word reached College Park that the Ohio National Guard had shot and killed four students at Kent State University, the grief and rage were palpable.
A nationwide student strike was called. At Maryland, the majority of students boycotted classes. They gathered on the steps of the main administration building, raising banners calling for “Revolution.” No longer were they just debating tenure or a specific military maneuver; they were questioning the legitimacy of the American government itself.
Protesters regrouped in front of the Memorial Chapel after being pushed off Route 1 by state police. The images from this day show a shift in the protesters’ demeanor—there was a grim resolve in their faces as they moved closer to police lines, holding signs that simply read “Kent State” or “End the War.”
Martial Law in College Park
The situation became so volatile that Governor Marvin Mandel called in the Maryland National Guard. By May 5, the campus was under military occupation. Adj. Gen. Edwin Warfield addressed an anti-war rally on the Mall, attempting to project an image of calm, but the presence of soldiers with fixed bayonets outside Taliaferro Hall told a different story.
The tensions peaked again on May 11 and May 14. Thousands of students packed into Cole Field House to debate tactics. The meetings were a microcosm of the era’s divisions: chemistry professors argued with students over the morality of violent vs. non-violent protest, while radical leaders like Gregory Dunkel urged the crowd to take over the ROTC building.
On Route 1, the blockades returned, this time accompanied by bonfires. Protesters used furniture and debris to hold the road. On May 14, the fiercest fighting occurred as students tossed tear gas canisters back at police lines. Inside the Main Administration Building, a fire was set in the lobby, only to be extinguished by a group of students led by physics professor Edgar Beall, who feared the destruction would undermine their cause.
The Legacy of the Flame
The month of May slowly drew to a close as the university administration and the state government used a combination of force and “pacification” to regain control. On May 22, the activist and actress Jane Fonda spoke to a rally on the Mall, her presence a sign of how central Maryland had become to the national anti-war movement.
The local alternative newspaper, Quicksilver Times, mocked Nixon’s claims of “pacification,” showing him as a National Guardsman standing over the bodies at Kent State. For the students at Maryland, the events of 1970 were a loss of innocence. They had seen their peers beaten on the streets they walked to class, and they had seen their campus occupied by the military.
The 1970 uprising at the University of Maryland changed the institution forever. It forced the university to adopt more democratic processes for student input and signaled the end of the “silent” campus. Today, as students walk past Skinner Hall or gather on the McKeldin Mall, the echoes of the pepper foggers and the shouts from Route 1 remain a hidden but vital part of the university’s DNA—a reminder of a time when the youth of Maryland decided they had the energy, and the duty, to move the world.
