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“Courtrooms are where state power plays out in real time”

Interview with an activist from Justice Collective about their new campaign, Racism on Trial


18/03/2025

Thanks for speaking with us. Could you introduce yourself?

I lead Justice Collective’s efforts to bring more people into courtwatching as a form of activism. As a jurist, I’m also responsible for translating legal knowledge into accessible tools for activists and others to engage critically with the justice system. One of my recent projects was coordinating the development of our legal guide for courtwatchers, which you can download on our website, Racism on Trial.

How did you get involved with the group?

I had known about Justice Collective for some time before I started courtwatching about two years ago. Studying law made me realize that the legal system not only defines ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ behavior, but in doing so, it also upholds existing power structures, often ignoring the social impact of these norms on marginalized communities. This led me to question whether the punishment system itself should be challenged. Learning about abolitionist ideas reshaped my understanding of justice, and through courtwatching with Justice Collective, I found a way to expose the injustices embedded in the system.

How did Justice Collective start? What’s the aim of the collective?

Justice Collective began as a grassroots initiative in Berlin to challenge the justice system’s role in perpetuating harm, particularly toward marginalized communities. It grew out of a recognition that the justice system is not neutral—it disproportionately targets Black people, People of Color, migrants, and other vulnerable groups. Our goal is to demystify the courtroom and expose the structural racism that happens there. Courtrooms are spaces where state power is enforced, and we aim to hold them accountable through courtwatching, documentation, and advocacy. We also connect our work to broader abolitionist movements that push for alternatives to policing, punishment, and prisons.

You recently launched a campaign—could you describe it? What are the goals?

We recently launched “Racism on Trial,” an online platform that aims to reclaim space to discuss and resist punitive politics and racist criminalization. The campaign shines a light on the racism that occurs daily in courtrooms, which is often hidden from public view. The platform features a case archive, our findings on how the criminal legal system upholds injustices, and contributions from impacted communities, activists, and advocates on resisting racist criminalization. It also includes resources like a glossary and our legal guide for courtwatchers. Our goal is to equip more people to observe trials, document injustices, and push for accountability, ultimately building a community that challenges the system from within and drives systemic change.

Why is this work important right now?

Courtrooms are where state power plays out in real time. Decisions made in these spaces determine people’s lives, and the system disproportionately targets marginalized communities. Racism in the justice system isn’t just about individual judges, prosecutors or the police—it’s structural. It’s built into how laws are written, enforced, and interpreted. Right now, we’re seeing a rise in punitive politics across Europe, particularly targeting migrants, refugees, and marginalized groups. These policies are enforced in courtrooms, and without public
accountability, they continue unchecked. This work is critical because people rarely know what happens inside courtrooms. Courtwatching brings transparency and accountability to a space that is often hidden from public scrutiny.

Have you had any big successes so far?

One of our biggest successes is building a community of courtwatchers in Berlin. Courtwatching isn’t something many people are familiar with, but we’ve been able to raiseawareness and get people involved. The launch of Racism on Trial is another milestone. It’s a concrete resource that allows people to engage with the justice system in a meaningful way, even if they don’t have a legal background.

Any events coming up in the future?

Yes! We’re inviting people to join our collective courtwatchings where we go to court every other week. We’re also working on a few contributions to share stories from courtwatchers and discuss abolitionist ideas in the context of the justice system.

You can find details on our website or through our Instagram: @justice_collective_berlin.

If people want to get involved, how can they find you?

The best way to get involved is to visit the website racismontrial.org, where you can download our resources and learn more about courtwatching.

You can also follow us on Instagram (@justice_collective_berlin) for updates on events, workshops, and campaigns.

We’re always looking for more people to join the movement, whether you’re interested in courtwatching, sharing stories, working on our archive or organizing events.

Book Review: Perfect Victims by Mohammed El-Kurd 

We should defend all Palestinians, not just the “perfect victims”


17/03/2025

I was somewhat skeptical when I set out to read Mohammed El-Kurd’s latest book, Perfect Victims. I’d been following El-Kurd as a principled voice on Palestine for years, but as he says himself at the outset of the text, so much has already been written on the topics he’d be addressing in the book (see for example, Judith Butler’s writings on “grievability” and Achill Mbembe’s Necropolitics, among plenty others.).

Namely, he asserts that under the Western gaze, Palestinian death is quotidian and negligible, and that Palestinians themselves lack narrative credibility when it comes to their own accounts of loss, grief, and resistance. Yet, they must still appeal to Western audiences, through presenting themselves in the most immaculate light possible, in order to garner enough sympathy to galvanize those residing in the imperial core. 

In many ways, this dynamic exists for all oppressed groups today. Women get put on trial when they publicly accuse a man of assaulting them. Black people murdered by the police must be presented as upstanding citizens who would never hurt a fly in order for their deaths to circulate in the news. God forbid any of them did something that could be interpreted as a provocation; God forbid they tried to resist. 

But El-Kurd’s addition to this discourse still feels refreshing. He cuts through so much of the propaganda that (still) shapes discourse around Palestine, daring to speak with clarity in a way that made it abundantly clear that what he has to say still needs to be said: The moral character of Palestinian victims of Israeli occupation and genocide is irrelevant. 

Not only does he describe the ways that the stories of martyrs were dropped in the western media once it was ascertained that they died resisting their annihilation. He argues that Palestinian must first be defanged to be grievable. But he also unflinchingly goes a step further than most are willing to go, at least publicly, and certainly in Germany.

He asks, “But what about the other [Palestinian victims]? The others who suffocate under this shrinking definition of humanity? … What about those without halos, the angry men who wander the streets with mouths full of venom, the children whose shoulders are burdened by the straps of rifles, the women who choose an explosive path?”

In this context, he references an interview on CNN with Christiane Amanpour who attempts to advocate for a sympathetic stance towards the Palestinians, but is quick to clarify: “And I am not talking about Hamas.” To which El-Kurd contends: “Through her resounding exclusion of Hamas from the category of those entitled to ‘live with rights and dignity,’ Amanpour effectively suggests that the supposedly universal Declaration of Human Rights can be conditions upon one’s political affiliations.” Moreover, “When the [Israeli] sniper finds your bedroom in the scope of his rifle, he… does not care whether the photograph beside your bed is of Nasrallah, Gandhi, or Haifa Wehbe.”

Still, this line of argument isn’t exactly new, even if El-Kurd’s contribution is valuable as applied to the case of Palestine. What is particularly striking about this book, however, is that he argues that the reflex to qualify support for the Palestinian cause with a rejection of antisemitism is itself a logical fallacy. This is something that in Germany feels especially stunning. 

Here he gives the preposterous example of the IDF claiming they found a copy of Mein Kampf in a Palestinian child’s playroom, justifying the confiscation of the home on these grounds and turning it into a military base. El-Kurd points out the trap of trying to argue against such allegations as the intended effect by the Israelis: to distract from Israel’s crimes. 

Instead of falling into antisemitism in any discourse in favor of the Palestinian cause, he poses the question, even if? Even if there was a copy of Mein Kampf in a Palestinian child’s playroom, does it justify occupation, apartheid, and even genocide? Yet, very often, one must argue as if it does. As he writes, “Does your venomous sentiment undermine your status as a victim? Does it rewrite history to absolve the soldier of his sins? Does it justify the crime?” 

But, El-Kurd asks, what if Palestinians hate their occupiers?—Israelis who themselves insist on committing their atrocities in the name of Judaism? Why is it that Palestinians are expected to constantly temper their grief and rage toward them, as they collect their loved ones’ limbs in bags? Does it change the quality of Israeli atrocities against them? Or in other words, must victims be “good” and possess all the “right” views to deserve human rights, to deserve life? 

He writes, “Here is where I stand. […] it is not my fault that [the Israelis] are Jewish. I have zero interest in apologizing for centuries-old tropes created by Europeans, when millions of us confront real, tangible oppression, living behind cement walls, or under siege, or in exile, and living with woes too expansive to summarize. […] Most of all, I am tired of the false equivalence between semantic ‘violence’ [against the occupier] and systemic violence: only one party in this ‘conflict’ is actively engaged in the intentional and systematic eradication of an entire population. I know this […] will be taken out of context, disseminated, and disfigured, but I will never be the perfect victim.” 

As many have done, El-Kurd also uses the response to Ukraine as a foil, citing an article in the New York Times where some expert in psychology argues it’s actually natural and even healthy for the Ukrainians to hate their Russian occupiers and to engage in armed resistance against them. But he doesn’t reduce this identitarianism, where in contrast to the Palestinians, they have the backing of the west simply because they’re white. He emphasizes that who is humanized in Western discourse has a lot more to do with what currently serves the interests of the empire. 

And much of this book is really about carving out the discursive space for Palestinian anger and grief—without qualification and even if western audiences have been conditioned to feel uncomfortable with it. “If we are assessing a certain ideological project (say, capitalism, Zionism, so on) why not judge it based on how it materially manifests rather than on the perceived attitudes of its subjects?,” he asks. “When Zionism’s most recent manifestation is genocide […] What difference does it make how the grieving grieve? Curating the native as ‘respectable’ is a misplaced priority because it redirects critical scrutiny away from the colonizer, which in turn neglects the innate injustice of the colonial project. This misplaced focus insinuates that the oppressed must earn what they are already entitled to: liberty, dignity, and human rights.”

In doing so, El-Kurd also points out that Palestinians aren’t really allowed to exist under the Western gaze as civilians or regular people. When they’re not cast outright as (inhuman) terrorists, they’re expected to speak for all Palestinians, with a palatable political solution for a free Palestine polished and ready anytime they might express their anger or, dare we even say, hatred toward their occupiers. And he makes the point that he is not a Palestinian politician in a tie, let alone the occupying forces themselves who really ought to be the ones answering for the state of things in the occupied territories over the last 76 years. 

Indeed, this book is about humanizing Palestinians by refusing the idea that they must qualify their rage or be perfect victims in order to be worthy of an end to apartheid, occupation, and genocide. 

Knowledge is power: your voting rights in Germany

Breaking down who can, and how, to vote


16/03/2025

Voting is widely considered a civic duty and the bedrock of democracy. From the moment we reached voting age, many are instilled with the sense that it’s the responsibility of a moral citizen to use that ballot. No matter how inconsequential an election may seem. 

However voter apathy, it appears that fatigue, confusion, and a feeling of powerlessness has led to fewer and fewer voters turning up to make their decision. In the face of futility, this is simultaneously unsurprising and disappointing. It’s understandable that this has been happening. Yet as per Dan Tiwari’s op-ed published in the Daily Orange last November, “The right to cast a vote is a privilege that should not be taken for granted.”

One of the most powerful tools in one’s arsenal to empower is education. In my own experience as an expat in Berlin, the complex bureaucracy can culminate in a dispirited surrender to the system. You can end up so befuddled by the criss-cross of information that your own rights and entitlements feel uneasy and opaque. Knowing and truly understanding what you are entitled to can be a gateway towards liberation. In the example of voters’ rights, such understanding can allow for democracy to be confidently engaged with with less fatigue and uncertainty. 

Let’s have a look at your rights as a voter in Germany and the E.U. 

Germany’s Electoral System

Simply put, the German Basic Law (the Grundgesetzt) states that representatives must be elected through general, direct, free, equal and secret elections. This means that all citizens have the right to vote, regardless of their sex or income. Article 20 of the document asserts that Germany is a state of law and democracy

Every four years, parties stand in the general elections to the Bundestag, the German federal parliament, which forms the legislative branch of government on federal level alongside the Bundesrat

Elections to the Bundestag are performed in what is referred to as “proportionally representative” manner. Citizens cast a vote first for the candidate in their constituency and a second vote for the party’s state list. Essentially, this is to make sure that each group of voters gets a fair share of seats in the government. 

German federal elections can only be voted in by individuals with German citizenship. Citizenship is generally acquired by descent. As of January 2024 the rules of granting citizenship were eased, with the hope it would attract more skilled workers to the country. This allows international residents to apply for citizenship after five years, or in unique circumstances three. This meant that the federal elections in February 2025 saw around 14% of Germany’s adult population – those living in Germany but who are not citizens – were excluded from the vote

It is possible for German citizens living abroad to cast their vote, but you must be listed in the voters’ register. A postal ballot scheme is made available for Germans who are temporarily abroad during voting—but make sure to fill it out at least three weeks in advance. 

Due to Germany’s system of compulsory residence registration, every German citizen is automatically registered to vote in federal elections. Before an election, voters typically receive a reminder in advance to present to their designated polling station, alongside a valid photo ID. This means you don’t have to rush out to register—everything you need to vote should be in your possession by the time the voting day rolls around. 

Can non-German residents vote in Germany? 

Non-German citizens who are EU residents are able to vote in local elections and European Parliament Elections. It’s currently not possible for non-EU citizens to vote in any elections held in Germany. 

EU Citizens who are at least 16 (or 18, depending on the election) years old and officially registered as a citizen in Germany are eligible to vote for their local councils or for European Parliament elections. 

If you are registered at least 42 days before an election date, you are automatically registered on the voters’ register of your municipality of residence, and should receive a notification of the upcoming ballot at latest by the 21st day prior to the election. 

EU citizens entitled to vote in Germany can make a choice as to whether they vote in Germany or their home country. If it is their first time voting in a European Parliament election in Germany, they must apply to be in their electoral roll via this application form. They will then be automatically registered for future elections. 

European Parliament Elections

The European Parliament Elections take place every five years, the most recent of which took place in June 2024, and the next scheduled for 2029. The parliament consists of directly-voted members by the people of the EU to represent their interests. The EU Parliament functions as a legislative body for the EU, and exists to promote equality for all. 

Berlin Local (Municipal) Elections

All Berlin residents over the age of 16 who hold an EU citizenship, have been registered as a resident in Berlin for three months, and have registered to vote six weeks prior to the election are eligible.

As with German residents, once registered as a resident, you are automatically included in the electoral roll and will receive a voting notification by mail a couple of weeks prior to the election

Voters must bring their voting notification and a valid photo ID to present at the polling station

Berlin is divided into twelve districts, with each district having its own local government and its own district council. Berlin residents periodically vote for council members during the local elections. These districts are administrative units that primarily take responsibility for local borough issues, such as urban planning, youth services, green spaces, culture, and traffic. While the local districts do not have the same autonomy as the Berlin Senate, they operate to address day-to-day issues. As such play a really important role in community lifestyles.

Conclusion 

No matter where you are, it’s important to know your rights, so you can exercise your voice and help make changes. It’s also important to ensure that the people around you know their civic duty and feel confident in stepping into that role. As an expat, while you may not feel like you belong entirely to a city or country, the act of engaging in improving the area can help you to tether yourself to its development. 

The phrase “every vote counts” may sound contrived, but it is a fundamental truth. Showing up to cast a vote—even if the result is not what you wanted—is a key part of the journey towards improving lives and society at large. 

To take a more granular look at voting rights in Germany and the EU, you can find further information on the European Union website and Deutscher Bundestag

Each district of Berlin has its own website which expands on their governance and current initiatives, and include the profile of their elected officials: Mitte, Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg, Pankow, Charlottenburg-Wilmersdorf, Spandau, Steglitz-Zehlendorf, Tempelhof-Schöneberg, Neukölln, Treptow-Köpenick, Marzahn-Hellersdorf, Lichtenburg, and Reickendorf

Rosa Luxemburg Grave in Berlin Defaced

AfD’s Rise Fuels Fascist Attacks


15/03/2025

As the far-right Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) surges in the polls, street-level right wing foot soldiers are growing bolder — attacking those from a migrant background, left-wing activists, and now even the memory of past struggles. One of their latest targets? The Memorial for Socialists in Berlin’s Friedrichsfelde Cemetery, a site dedicated to revolutionaries Rosa Luxemburg, Karl Liebknecht, and other socialist martyrs. In a blatant act of political vandalism, right wing thugs have removed the plaques bearing Luxemburg and Liebknecht’s names.

Let’s be clear — this isn’t just a case of petty vandalism. It’s part of a growing far-right assault on history itself. The far right, including the fascist wing of the AfD want to rewrite Germany’s past, downplay the horrors of fascism, and silence anyone who stands for socialism, anti-racism, and working-class solidarity.  Björn Höcke, who heads AfD in the eastern state of Thuringia, told supporters that Germans were the “only people in the world who planted a memorial of shame in the heart of their capital” (referring to the Holocaust memorial near Brandenburg gate: ed). This attack on Luxemburg and Liebknecht’s graves is just the latest front in that fight.

The Friedrichsfelde memorial site has deep roots in socialist history. A monument originally designed in 1926 by modernist architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, and financed by selling postcards in working class districts, was commissioned by the German Communist Party (KPD) as a defiant tribute to those murdered in the struggle for socialism. But the Nazis destroyed it in 1935 after first removing the red star that stood on top of it. After Hitler’s fall, the GDR state built a smaller monument to Luxemburg, Liebknecht and the other militants buried there. Later in 1951 the Memorial for Socialists was built, incorporating the names of Luxemburg and Liebknecht with members of the GDR state leadership.

Today, the site is more than just a historical monument — it’s a symbol of resistance. Every January, thousands of socialists, trade unionists, and anti-fascists march through Berlin for the annual Luxemburg-Liebknecht demonstration, ending at Friedrichsfelde.

The removal of Luxemburg, Liebknecht and others name plaques from the Memorial for Socialists is no accident. It’s an attempt to bury the revolutionary legacy, just as the Nazis tried nearly a century ago. And it comes at a time when the AfD is gaining ground, spouting nationalist, racist rhetoric while pretending to be a “respectable” party. But on the streets, fascists and right wingers are harassing migrants, attacking leftists, and defacing anti-fascist memorials.

So what do we do? We fight back. Words alone won’t stop the far right — mass mobilisation will. Trade unions, socialists, and anti-fascists must take to the streets, defend our history, and push back against this new wave of fascist violence. The memory of Luxemburg and Liebknecht belongs to the working class, and no amount of vandalism can erase their ideas.

The fight against fascism is happening now, and it’s up to all of us to make sure history doesn’t repeat itself.

“When the banality of evil becomes normalized, it grows unchecked.”

A conversation with UN Special Rapporteur Francesca Albanese

February tends to be a pretty harsh time of year in Berlin. Freezing temperatures, short days, and perpetually gray skies weigh heavy upon the city’s inhabitants, amplifying an already fraught atmosphere in Germany. Amidst a persistently bleak economic outlook, the country is undergoing a sharp rightward shift, with traditional parties increasingly mirroring the rhetoric of the far-right AfD, to the point where the distinctions between them are becoming negligible.

This shift has been accompanied by the criminalization and escalating repression of any movement, initiative, or individual criticizing the Israeli government’s actions, or expressing solidarity with the Palestinian people — the victims of what numerous experts describe as an ongoing genocide. The crackdown has only deepened existing tensions: anti-Arab and anti-Muslim sentiment is rampant, while reports of police violence, arbitrary arrests of pro-Palestine demonstrators, dismissals of individuals for publicly supporting Palestine, and defamatory accusations of antisemitism are countless.

Yet, never before has such repression targeted a high-ranking UN official — not until a series of events that featured Francesca Albanese, the UN Special Rapporteur on human rights in the Occupied Palestinian Territories, became the subject of a coordinated campaign to force their cancellation.

The first event — titled Colonialism, Human Rights, and International Law — was scheduled to be held on February 16, at the Ludwig Maximilian University (LMU) in Munich. Just days before, the event was abruptly cancelled by the university, who cited the event’s “political orientation” and vaguely defined “security concerns”. The nature of these supposed risks remains unclear.

On February 19, Albanese was set to speak alongside the director of Forensic Architecture — Israeli-British scholar Eyal Weizman — at another event, titled Calculated Living Conditions to Destroy — Legal and Forensic Perspectives on the Ongoing Genocide in Gaza. This time, the suppression was even more blatant. The standard justifications (such as “polarization” or “security risks”) collapsed, when it emerged that Günter Ziegler (the President of the Freie Universität Berlin) had been directly pressured by Ron Prosor (the Israeli Ambassador to Germany), Kai Wegner (the Mayor of Berlin, CDU), and the group “WerteInitiative. jüdisch-deutsche Positionen” (which claims to work for “a future for Jews in Germany”). The ambassador reportedly wrote directly to Ziegler demanding the event’s cancellation, while Wegner called for its shutdown in Bild — Germany’s most-read newspaper, inexplicably still treated as credible despite its far-right leanings. WerteInitiative, for their part, accused Albanese of “spreading antisemitic worldviews” in a letter to the university. The coordinated effort achieved its goal: the event was canceled.

A third event, organized by the DiEM25 political alliance in collaboration with Jüdische Stimme, Eye4Palestine, and Gaza Komitee Berlin, was scheduled for February 18, at KühlhausBerlin, with the title Reclaiming the Discourse: A Powerful Stand for Palestine, Justice, and Truth. Despite the prior cancellations, the organizers remained confident that the event would proceed as planned. But on the morning of February 18, it became evident this was no longer the case. Under “immense pressure from German politicians and the Berlin police”, the venue withdrew support. Overnight, the main entrance to Kühlhaus was also vandalized with spray-painted messages: Albanese, you are an antisemite, and UNRWA supports terror.

At the eleventh hour, the Berlin-based Marxist newspaper junge Welt stepped in, offering its premises as an alternative venue, though with a drastically reduced capacity. That morning, ticket holders received an email warning that the police had requested access to the gathering — a chilling prospect, given last year’s Palestine Congress in Berlin, which was forcibly shut down by police, leading to multiple arrests. This time, authorities allowed the event to proceed, only under the condition that five police officers be present throughout, ostensibly to “protect freedom of speech” and to ensure that speakers and attendees did not violate the law. The lecture proceeded peacefully without excessive interference.

Amidst this unprecedented crackdown, we spoke with Francesca Albanese about her experience in Germany, the state of fundamental rights in the country, and the current situation in the Occupied Palestinian Territories.

Let’s start with your experience in Germany, and the political and police pressure that you faced. Did you anticipate this level of repression? Have you ever encountered anything similar?

Political pressure is always present, but usually it’s not directed at me personally. Pro-Israel lobby groups are deeply entrenched in the West, operating in similar ways everywhere: they aim to silence or ignore voices like mine. In Italy, for example, I’m simply disregarded. However, civil society ensures that events proceed despite the pressure. In most countries, universities wouldn’t consider canceling an event.

In my three years of speaking about Palestine in around twenty countries, I’ve never encountered anything like in Germany. The real pressure isn’t just on me — it’s on Germans themselves. This is outright censorship and self-censorship. I was shocked by the level of repression at the event I was part of. It wasn’t physical violence against me, and I’m immune to slander, misogyny, and personal attacks. What struck me was the silencing effect on Germans.

For the first time in three years, I felt fear. And I’ve lived with security protection, received death threats, yet I’ve never felt this way. In Germany I sensed something profoundly disturbing — an atmosphere reminiscent of historical accounts of fascism, where people fear speaking out. That’s why I used the expression “lack of oxygen”.

Have you noticed the situation in Germany worsening, since we last met in May?

Yes. Last year I gave multiple interviews, met Foreign Ministry officials, think tanks, and dozens of NGOs. Some criticized me, but many expressed gratitude. This year? Silence. I met only three NGOs. Many wanted to speak behind closed doors, fearful of repression.

I wonder: what changed? Last year I was one of the few calling out the Gaza genocide so forcefully. Now, major organizations — including Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, Forensic Architecture, and individuals of the caliber of Amos Goldberg — have confirmed what I’ve said. Yet I’m somehow perceived as more controversial than ever. But the difference is not in me, it’s in German society itself, after months of crackdowns: police brutality, arrests, home raids, and a climate of fear that spreads rapidly.

As Michael Barenboim and other participants in the event noted, Germany strongly identifies with Israel, which is understandable given its history. But when that identification blinds one to crimes being committed in the name of an ideology, it means repeating the mistakes of the past rather than learning from them. That, I believe, is the real issue.

As an expert in human rights and international law, how do you assess the current violations of individual freedoms in Germany, such as the freedom of expression and assembly?

The issue goes beyond Palestine, which is just the trigger. Germany has aligned itself so blindly to the idea of protecting Israel at all costs, as a pillar of its state identity, that it struggles to see reality for what it is, and fundamental freedoms are being sacrificed. So how do we reclaim these rights? Not by bowing our heads to fit into a repressive system. If hundreds of thousands have taken to the streets against the far-right, then three times as many should be protesting for their own fundamental rights. Academics should refuse to teach until the freedom of expression and academic freedom are restored. Media outlets that engage in defamation and intimidation should be taken to court. Civil society and NGOs should form a protective barrier against systemic abuses.

But now, in Germany, I don’t see this happening. Where is German civil society? Where are the organizations dedicated to fighting racism? Because that’s what this is — Islamophobia and anti-Arab sentiment are forms of racism. Recognizing this reality, in Germany and beyond, is the only way to reclaim and defend these rights. Awareness must be widespread, and action must follow.

Do you think an effective strategy could be to take legal action, namely turning to courts, the European Court of Human Rights or other organs?

Of course. You can appeal to a judge when your fundamental freedoms have been violated. I’ve raised this issue with several groups in Germany, and they say that in many cases, courts have ruled in favor of repression — I can’t comment on that because I don’t know the German legal system well enough.

What I do know is that I was shocked when — I believe it was from the District Court of Frankfurt — I was labeled an antisemite. That is pure and simple defamation. And yet, no one protested. A UN Special Rapporteur is insulted and slandered by a court, and there are no consequences? I can’t fight battles in every country. It should be up to civil society.

When the banality of evil becomes normalized, it grows unchecked. It can be contained at the national level through civil society and the judiciary. And if that fails, then yes, one must turn to international courts like the European Court of Human Rights. But these are long processes. In the meantime, the erosion of rights continues. That’s why I believe so strongly in mass mobilization.

In Germany, perhaps more than in other countries, one of the tools for restricting personal freedoms is the accusation of antisemitism. While antisemitism — like all forms of racism and discrimination — must be condemned and rejected in the strongest terms, this has become a defamatory and instrumental mechanism to silence dissent against the Israeli and German governments. Those who are targeted by these smears appear powerless and unable to defend themselves. Why do you think this happens?

I think it stems from confusion and guilt. When even those whose profession is critical thinking (such as academics) fail to exercise it, it means there is a trauma. That trauma is likely linked to Holocaust guilt. And I understand it — I feel it too as an Italian.

But it is precisely the guilt over the Holocaust that pushes me to do what I do, alongside fellow human rights activists, intellectuals and academics, many of whom are Jewish. Enough with this performative guilt that Germans display: “we did this, and therefore we cannot…” No — on the contrary, because of this history, you can and must act. And yet, what does Germany do? It doubles down on its support for the Israeli government, even as it commits the most heinous crimes.

After the last German elections, Friedrich Merz, the frontrunner to become the next German chancellor, called the Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu. He publicly announced that he would seek to circumvent the ICC’s arrest warrant. Before Merz, Donald Tusk — the Polish Prime Minister — declared that Netanyahu would be welcome in Poland for the commemoration of the anniversary of Auschwitz’s liberation. At a time when the very existence of international law seems precarious, what do you think these stances signify?

There is a deeply concerning political dimension here — a blatant disdain for the international legal order. This is dangerous because it reinforces the perception of double standards, of a selective application of international law; of treating it as just another tool for international politics, rather than as the framework, the regulator — almost the thermostat — of international relations.

The political attitude of indifference and contempt toward international law is troubling in itself. This contributes to the erosion of the international criminal justice system, a system that took decades to build. Since the Nuremberg trials, efforts had been made to establish a permanent international court for crimes against humanity. Over the years, we saw international tribunals for (former) Yugoslavia and Rwanda, and hybrid courts, before the International Criminal Court was finally established. It was an incredible step forward. And now, we are witnessing a rollback, a dismantling of this progress.

The alarming speed at which this is happening is compounded by a third factor: a culture of impunity. There is no longer any fear — neither at the international level, nor regionally, nor in bilateral relations between states. A few dominant powers dictate the global order, overriding the reality of a multipolar world. Instead of harmonizing international relations and using law as a guiding compass, we are moving toward a world shaped by American imperialism — an imperialism that no longer hides its willingness to use military force whenever it sees fit. This is an extremely dangerous scenario — one of lawlessness. And we should all be deeply concerned.

Your latest report, Genocide as Colonial Erasure, has proven to be eerily prophetic. The violence in Gaza has never truly ceased, and it has expanded into the West Bank. A few days ago, the IDF entered the Jenin refugee camp with tanks, for the first time in twenty years. What is your current assessment of the situation?

The situation in the Occupied Palestinian Territories is deeply alarming. The so-called ceasefire created the illusion that the emergency had passed. But humanitarian aid is not reaching people. Tents are not being delivered. Israel continues to fire at civilians in Gaza — over 100 people have been killed since the supposed ceasefire began. Meanwhile, Israel has made it clear that it will not withdraw from the Philadelphi Corridor, signalling its intention to fully entrap Gaza.

Israel must come to terms with the fact that it cannot continue to suppress the Palestinians — it must allow them to live, to be free. This is the lesson it should have learnt over the past 15-16 months, yet it refuses to acknowledge it.

At the same time, the situation in the West Bank is not fundamentally different from what is happening to the Palestinian people as a whole. In Gaza, the attack has been genocidal in its intensity, but the same logic of destruction is being applied in the West Bank — though in a way that garners less attention, with fewer visible explosions. Palestinian communities are being forcibly displaced, their homes demolished, their hospitals destroyed, their farmlands burned.

What worries me most is whether the world will recognize this genocide for what it is — the ability to see Israel’s violence as a systematic attack on the Palestinian people as a whole, across the entire occupied territory. Because that is exactly what it is.

In light of the escalation of violence and the situation you’ve described, Europe continues to appear divided and inadequate in its response to the ongoing emergency in Palestine. Have you noticed any evolution in Europe’s position (or that of the international community) that seems absent to us?

I don’t think it’s absent. I’d say there are three groups: those who act and take measures, like the members of the Hague Group or South Africa, and the other states that have filed a case at the International Court of Justice. They have taken action, especially the Hague Group. There are also some South American states that have suspended trade or military agreements with Israel — these are important steps. There are national-level divestment initiatives from companies operating in occupied territories. These actions matter, but they are still too isolated and not widespread enough.

Then, there is a minority of states — but they are very aggressive — led by the United States and Israel, followed by others. Sometimes it’s hard to tell where Israeli policy ends and U.S. policy begins. This core group is acting in flagrant violation of international law, and they don’t seem to care.

And then there’s the vast majority of states that vote against the occupation but still continue doing business with Israel, failing to take a firm stance. There are many such states.

I believe the situation won’t shift positively — meaning for the freedom and rights of all people — unless there is a massive mobilization. This is a systemic struggle, but unfortunately, people don’t see it. I keep saying it: we are at the potential tipping point of a necessary revolution. Right now, capitalism has armed itself — with technology, communication channels, cloud control, artificial intelligence, and weapons. Either we resist now, or it will be too late. Resisting in defense of rights is a necessary action at this moment.

The Israeli government is effectively dismantling UNRWA, an agency that emanates directly from the UN Security Council. Are there any sanctioning mechanisms or consequences for a UN member state’s actions against the UN itself?

No. Israel has been waging a legal and reputational war against the agency for 20 years. This campaign has intensified in recent years, with constant attacks accusing the agency of recruiting terrorists. Investigations have found no evidence to support claims that UNRWA staff were complicit in acts of violence against Israelis. Yet, even without proof, UNRWA dismissed those employees, going against its own rules.

Frankly, UNRWA has also contributed to its own downfall. As I’ve often said, UNRWA is its own worst defender. Israel has exerted pressure through all its supportive forces, including pro-Israel lobby groups operating in various Western countries. These groups have pushed for funding cuts to UNRWA, but the fiercest battle has been fought through Israeli legislation. This has been the most aggressive attack. In response, I don’t think there has been nearly enough effort to defend UNRWA. The agency should have received stronger support both internally and externally. The office in Jerusalem should never have been abandoned. UNRWA leadership ordered the evacuation, but I would have rather reinforced the presence of international staff. Instead, there seems to have been a retreat — perhaps out of exhaustion. But that’s not fair, because Palestinians are exhausted too.

In recent days, the American organization DAWN has asked the ICC to investigate the former U.S. President Joe Biden, the former Secretary of State Antony Blinken, and the former Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin for “aiding, abetting, and intentionally contributing to war crimes in Gaza”. How significant do you think this development is? Do you believe it’s realistic to expect an actual investigation?

I hope there will be one. The problem is that the Court is under enormous pressure — it has even been sanctioned by the United States. So I hope that this investigation is supported and receives all the necessary materials, but it won’t be easy to proceed.

I certainly think there are grounds to investigate U.S. political leaders, particularly the Biden administration, which has provided military, political, economic, and financial support to this genocide. They knew exactly what Israel was doing, and they supported it anyway.

So justice would absolutely be desirable. But the problem is, we don’t live in a just world. We don’t live in an equitable world. A just and equitable world must be built, and it takes the strength and awareness of everyone to do it.