By Rima Najjar
Author’s note: This essay confronts the global failure to protect Palestinian life by exposing the gap between rhetorical recognition and material consequence. It argues that the tools to dismantle occupation — legal, diplomatic, and economic — already exist, and that their non-use is not a matter of complexity but of political refusal. Through a region-by-region analysis of the European Union, United States, Latin America, Africa, and Arab states, the essay outlines concrete actions that could be taken today if there were sufficient will. It dismantles the myth of impossibility by drawing on historical precedents — from South Africa to East Timor — and shows that rupture with the system of hypocrisy is not only survivable, but necessary. The final section indicts the architecture of inertia and calls for strategic, unapologetic action: sanctions, severed ties, and international protection. Palestinian liberation is not a diplomatic abstraction. It is a political imperative — and it will not be achieved through recognition alone, but through consequences to the occupier.
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Section I: Concrete Actions and Legal Pathways
The world does not suffer from ignorance. It suffers from cowardice. Palestine is not unseen — it is unprotected. Every summit, every statement, every gesture of recognition has not affirmed Palestinian sovereignty — it has fragmented it. From partial UN observer status to selective recognition of a “State of Palestine” within undefined borders, these gestures have acknowledged slivers of Palestine while evading the totality of its dispossession. They have treated recognition as resolution, while leaving the machinery of occupation intact.
In a recent interview with Al Mayadeen, senior Hamas official Osama Hamdan declared:
“International recognition of the State of Palestine is a step in the right direction, but what is needed are practical measures — namely, an end to the aggression. These practical steps do not come through imposing guardianship on the Palestinian people, but through imposing sanctions on the occupation.”
(الاعترافات الدولية بدولة فلسطين تمثّل “خطوةً في الاتجاه الصحيح”، والمطلوب هو “إجراءات عملية، وهي وقف العدوان”… لا تكون عبر فرض وصايا على الشعب الفلسطيني، بل في فرض عقوبات على الاحتلال.)
Hamdan’s statement is not a plea. It is a demand for material consequence. If the goal of two-state negotiations is to end aggression, dismantle apartheid, and protect Palestinian life — not merely to manage optics or defer confrontation — then the message is clear: put your actions where your declarations are. This essay outlines what those actions look like — concretely, legally, and politically. They are not impossible. They are not utopian. They are entirely feasible if there is political will.
And they are not ends in themselves. They are steps toward the only horizon that matters: Palestinian liberation and self-determination in our homeland. Not as a diplomatic abstraction, but as a lived reality — where Palestinians govern themselves, protect themselves, and narrate themselves without foreign guardianship or settler veto. This is not a distant dream. It is the trajectory of our struggle, and it will remain so until the architecture of occupation is dismantled — not symbolically, but structurally.
European Union: Dismantling the Façade of Conditionality
The European Union has long positioned itself as a defender of human rights and international law. Yet its relationship with Israel reveals a stark contradiction: rhetorical commitment to Palestinian sovereignty paired with material complicity in its erasure. This contradiction is not abstract — it is codified, funded, and diplomatically maintained.
The EU routinely affirms its support for a two-state solution and the rights of Palestinians to self-determination. It has recognized the State of Palestine in various symbolic forms, including observer status at the UN and diplomatic missions across member states. But these gestures have acknowledged fragments of Palestine — selective borders, provisional governance, and deferred sovereignty — while leaving the machinery of occupation untouched.
Meanwhile, the EU-Israel Association Agreement, signed in 1995 and ratified in 2000, remains the cornerstone of economic and political cooperation. It grants Israel preferential trade status and deep scientific, cultural, and technological collaboration — all under the condition, stated in Article 2, that such cooperation is contingent on respect for human rights and democratic principles.
Israel has violated these principles systematically and publicly. From the siege of Gaza to the expansion of illegal settlements, from extrajudicial killings to the apartheid wall, the evidence is not ambiguous. It is overwhelming. And yet the agreement remains intact.
Suspension is not unprecedented. The EU has frozen association agreements with Belarus, Syria, and Russia under similar grounds. The legal mechanism exists. The political will does not.
Beyond trade, the EU continues to fund Israeli institutions through Horizon Europe, its flagship research and innovation program. Millions of euros have flowed to Israeli universities and tech firms directly involved in developing surveillance systems, military hardware, and predictive policing tools used against Palestinians. These are not neutral technologies. They are instruments of suppression.
Exclusion is not radical. Russia was barred from Horizon Europe following its invasion of Ukraine. The precedent is clear: when aggression is European-coded, rupture is swift. When it is Palestinian-coded, delay becomes doctrine.
The EU also possesses a targeted sanctions regime: the EU Global Human Rights Sanctions Regime, adopted in 2020. It allows for asset freezes and travel bans against individuals and entities responsible for serious human rights violations. It has been used against officials in Myanmar, Iran, and China. It has never been used against Israeli generals, ministers, or settlement financiers — despite their documented roles in war crimes and systemic apartheid.
The tools are there. The European Union possesses binding legal frameworks, enforceable human rights clauses, and targeted sanctions regimes designed precisely for moments like this. Article 2 of the EU-Israel Association Agreement provides a clear basis for suspension. Horizon Europe funding can be revoked. The Global Human Rights Sanctions Regime is operational. These are not aspirational instruments — they are ready for use.
So what stands in the way?
Member states fear economic backlash, diplomatic strain, and the erosion of strategic alliances. But these are not insurmountable costs. They are calculated preservations of comfort. Economic consequences are negotiable. Diplomatic tension is survivable. Strategic partnerships are mutable. What is feared is not collapse but accountability. What is feared is the precedent Palestine would set: that occupation can be punished, apartheid can be isolated, and complicity can be named—not just in Palestine but everywhere.
To act on Palestine is to admit that accountability need not be exceptional. It can be universalized. That if Palestine’s occupation is punishable, so too are the annexations in Western Sahara, the enclosures in Kashmir, the racialized border regimes across Europe. That if apartheid can be isolated here, it can be isolated in refugee camps turned into carceral zones. That if complicity can be named in the EU’s dealings with Israel, it can be named in its arms exports, its surveillance partnerships, its border fortifications.
Palestine threatens not just a rupture in policy but a rupture in precedent. It demands a grammar of accountability that does not stop at the gates of strategic interest. And that is what stands in the way: not the cost of action, but the contagion of clarity.
This is why complexity is invoked — not to clarify, but to paralyze. It becomes the shield behind which cowardice is rationalized. Politicians fear accusations of antisemitism, the loss of defense contracts, and the destabilization of alliances built on surveillance and suppression. They defer action not because they cannot act, but because they choose not to. This is not a failure of capacity. It is a failure of will.
United States: Exceptionalism as Immunity
No state has done more to shield Israel from accountability than the United States. It is not merely a strategic ally — it is the guarantor of impunity. Through military aid, diplomatic cover, and veto power at the United Nations, the U.S. has transformed its rhetorical support for a two-state solution into a structural endorsement of apartheid.
The U.S. provides Israel with over $3.8 billion annually in military assistance. This aid is governed by binding legal frameworks — frameworks that, if applied, would trigger immediate suspension.
- The Leahy Law prohibits U.S. military assistance to foreign security forces implicated in gross human rights violations. Israeli units operating in Gaza and the West Bank have been repeatedly documented committing such violations. Yet no unit has ever been sanctioned under Leahy.
- The Foreign Assistance Act bars aid to governments that engage in consistent patterns of human rights abuse. The State Department’s own reports confirm these patterns in Israel’s treatment of Palestinians. Still, the aid flows uninterrupted.
- The Arms Export Control Act requires that U.S. weapons be used for legitimate self-defense. The use of American-made bombs, drones, and rifles in the killing of civilians, the destruction of homes, and the targeting of journalists violates this condition. Yet enforcement is absent.
These are not obscure statutes. They are foundational. They have been used to restrict aid to Colombia, Egypt, and Indonesia. Their non-application to Israel is not a legal oversight — it is a political exemption.
This exemption is sustained by a bipartisan consensus rooted in strategic interests, electoral calculations, and ideological alignment. Politicians fear backlash from powerful lobbying groups. They fear being labeled antisemitic. They fear losing campaign contributions and media favor. But these fears are not insurmountable. They are manufactured constraints — designed to preserve a status quo that is morally indefensible.
The refusal to act is not born of complexity. It is born of exceptionalism. Israel is treated as untouchable — not because it is innocent, but because its impunity is useful. It serves as a proxy, a partner, and a pillar of U.S. influence in the region. To condition aid, to impose sanctions, to support international protection mechanisms would mean rupturing that utility. It would mean choosing justice over dominance.
Latin America and Africa: Reviving the Legacy of Anti-Apartheid Diplomacy
Latin America and Africa have long served as moral compasses in the international arena — regions where anti-colonial and anti-apartheid movements shaped foreign policy with clarity and conviction. From the Non-Aligned Movement to the global boycott of South Africa, these blocs once led the charge against imperialism and racial domination. Today, that legacy is being tested.
Several states have already taken steps toward rupture. Bolivia severed diplomatic ties with Israel in 2009 following the assault on Gaza, and again in 2023 amid renewed atrocities. South Africa recalled its ambassador and referred Israel to the International Criminal Court, invoking the Genocide Convention. Namibia, Algeria, and Colombia have issued scathing indictments of Israeli aggression, framing it as apartheid and ethnic cleansing.
But these gestures must become infrastructure.
- Recall ambassadors and suspend diplomatic relations: This is not symbolic. It is a declaration of non-consent. It signals that normalization with apartheid is not acceptable. Bolivia and Venezuela have done this. Others must follow.
- Impose trade restrictions on settlement goods: While the EU debates labeling, Latin American and African states can ban imports outright. These goods are produced on stolen land, often by exploited labor. Their presence in global markets legitimizes dispossession.
- Mobilize regional blocs: The African Union (AU) and Community of Latin American and Caribbean States (CELAC) have the capacity to issue binding resolutions, coordinate sanctions, and create diplomatic pressure. These blocs were forged in the crucible of resistance. They must now act as engines of accountability.
- Support international legal mechanisms: States can file amicus briefs to the ICC, support UN investigations, and fund legal infrastructure for Palestinian civil society. South Africa’s recent referral to the ICJ is a model — not an exception.
- Withdraw from military and intelligence cooperation: Surveillance regimes are transnational. Israeli firms export technologies tested on Palestinians to governments across Africa and Latin America. Severing these ties is not just solidarity — it is self-defense.
The legacy of anti-apartheid diplomacy is not a relic. It is a blueprint. These regions have shown that rupture is survivable, that moral clarity can be policy, and that solidarity can be statecraft. The question now is whether they will act not just in memory of past struggles, but in defense of a present one.
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Arab States: From Normalization to Strategic Rupture
No region has been more entangled in the contradictions of Palestine than the Arab world. Arab governments have long positioned themselves as defenders of Palestinian rights — issuing statements, convening summits, and funding humanitarian aid. Yet many have simultaneously deepened security cooperation with Israel, signed normalization agreements, and treated Palestinian sovereignty as a bargaining chip in broader geopolitical negotiations.
The Abraham Accords, signed by the UAE, Bahrain, Morocco, and Sudan, exemplify this contradiction. Framed as peace deals, they normalized relations with a state actively expanding settlements, besieging Gaza, and annexing land. These agreements did not end occupation — they entrenched it. They did not protect Palestinians — they bypassed them.
This is not diplomacy. It is abandonment.
To reorient Arab diplomacy toward liberation, the following actions must be taken:
- Sever intelligence and military cooperation: Arab states have shared surveillance infrastructure, border technologies, and counterterrorism protocols with Israel. These systems are used to monitor, suppress, and criminalize Palestinian resistance. Ending this cooperation is not symbolic — it is strategic.
- Withdraw from normalization frameworks: The Abraham Accords and similar agreements must be dismantled. They treat suppression as stability and occupation as inevitability. Their existence signals that Palestinian rights are negotiable. Their dissolution would signal that they are not.
- Recall ambassadors and suspend diplomatic ties: This is a minimal threshold of moral clarity. It communicates that apartheid is not a partner, and that ethnic cleansing is not a basis for cooperation.
- Redirect financial and diplomatic resources: Arab states must invest in Palestinian civil society, legal defense infrastructure, and international advocacy. This includes funding ICC referrals, supporting UN mechanisms, and amplifying Palestinian testimony in global forums.
- Mobilize the Arab League: Once a platform for anti-colonial solidarity, the League has become a site of paralysis. It must be revived as a bloc capable of issuing binding resolutions, coordinating sanctions, and confronting occupation with unified clarity.
These actions are not unprecedented. Egypt and Jordan suspended ties in moments of rupture. Algeria and Iraq have maintained principled distance. Kuwait and Qatar have resisted normalization. The infrastructure of refusal exists. It must be activated.
Arab states must decide: will they continue to treat Palestine as a diplomatic instrument, or will they act to protect it as a sovereign struggle? The time for summit statements has passed. The time for strategic rupture has arrived.
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Section II: The Myth of Impossibility
The refusal to act is often framed as necessity. Governments invoke complexity, instability, and geopolitical risk to justify paralysis. They say the situation is “too delicate,” “too entrenched,” “too unique.” But these are not diagnoses. They are defenses. What they obscure is the truth: rupture is not impossible. It is feared because it is precedent-setting.
Palestine is not the exception. It is the mirror.
The collapse of apartheid in South Africa was not gradual. It was sudden, disorienting, and — until it happened — widely dismissed as impossible. Western governments had spent decades propping up the regime, rationalizing its brutality, and criminalizing its opponents. But when rupture came, it came fast. Sanctions were imposed. Diplomatic ties were severed. Cultural and academic boycotts gained traction. The myth of impossibility dissolved under the weight of sustained pressure and moral clarity.
East Timor was occupied by Indonesia for nearly 25 years. The international community remained largely silent, citing strategic alliances and regional stability. But after relentless advocacy, civil society mobilization, and a shift in global consciousness, the occupation ended. A UN peacekeeping force was deployed. A referendum was held. Independence was achieved.
Portugal’s colonial empire collapsed under similar conditions. So did the regimes in Chile, Argentina, and the Balkans. In each case, rupture was framed as unthinkable — until it became inevitable.
What these examples reveal is not inevitability, but contingency. Occupation ends when the cost of complicity exceeds the cost of rupture. When civil society refuses to be anesthetized. When governments are forced to choose between moral clarity and strategic comfort.
Palestine is no different. The occupation persists not because it is unresolvable, but because it is useful. It serves as a testing ground for surveillance technologies, a laboratory for military doctrine, and a pillar of regional control. To dismantle it would mean dismantling the architecture that benefits from it.
And that is why impossibility is invoked — not to describe reality, but to defer responsibility.
But the precedent exists. The tools exist. The will can be built. What is needed is not another summit. What is needed is rupture — strategic, sustained, and unapologetic. Not for its own sake, but for the sake of liberation.
And rupture is survivable. The myth of insurmountability collapses under the weight of political testimony. The constraints invoked to justify inaction are not structural — they are strategic. Manufactured to preserve a status quo that is morally indefensible, but not immutable. Politicians who have bucked the system and endured prove that the cost of courage is often exaggerated to paralyze dissent.
- Jeremy Corbyn (UK)
Despite relentless media attacks and political isolation, Corbyn maintained his position as Labour Party leader for five years while openly criticizing Israeli policies and advocating for Palestinian rights. He faced accusations of antisemitism weaponized against his platform, yet his stance catalyzed a generational shift in discourse within the UK. His survival — and the movement that outlived his leadership — demonstrates that political backlash is not fatal when rooted in moral clarity. - Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib (US)
Both congresswomen have publicly condemned Israeli apartheid, called for conditioning aid, and supported BDS-related measures. They have faced censure, smear campaigns, and threats — but they remain in office, re-elected by constituents who value their integrity. Their presence in Congress proves that critique of Israel is not a political death sentence, even in the heart of American exceptionalism. - Evo Morales (Bolivia)
Under Morales, Bolivia severed diplomatic ties with Israel in 2009 following the assault on Gaza. The move was framed as a rejection of state terrorism. Morales remained in power for over a decade, and Bolivia’s rupture with Israel was later reaffirmed by subsequent governments. The backlash was minimal compared to the moral weight of the decision. - Nelson Mandela and the ANC (South Africa)
Mandela’s unwavering support for Palestine — despite Western pressure — was not a liability. It was a cornerstone of post-apartheid foreign policy. The ANC’s solidarity with Palestine has persisted across administrations, and South Africa continues to lead global calls for accountability, including recent moves to refer Israel to the ICC.
These examples reveal a pattern: the cost of dissent is real, but it is not terminal. Politicians who act with clarity and conviction may face backlash, but they also reshape the discourse, embolden civil society, and prove that the machinery of complicity can be disrupted. The fear invoked by most governments is not of collapse — it is of precedent. Palestine threatens to normalize rupture. And that, more than anything, is what the status quo cannot afford.
To invoke impossibility is to preempt accountability. The politicians who endure backlash do not merely survive; they expand the terrain of discourse, making space for testimony that was once unspeakable. Their endurance is not proof of exceptionalism — it is proof that the machinery of complicity can be interrupted. What remains is not a question of feasibility, but of will. And will, unlike myth, can be built.
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Section III: Indicting the Architecture of Inertia and Calling for Action
The international system is calibrated to defer Palestinian liberation. It rewards delay, incentivizes ambiguity, and punishes clarity. It treats Palestinian suffering as a humanitarian crisis to be managed — not a political condition to be dismantled. It elevates negotiations that entrench occupation, and silences demands that threaten its scaffolding.
But the scaffolding is not immutable.
It can be dismantled — legally, politically, and strategically.
The tools exist. The precedents are clear. The cost is survivable.
What remains is the question of will.
So let us be precise:
1. Dissolve Association Agreements
Dissolve association agreements with the State of Israel that condition cooperation on human rights while systematically ignoring their violation. The EU-Israel Association Agreement, signed in 1995 and activated in 2000, explicitly ties economic and political cooperation to respect for human rights and democratic principles. Yet the EU continues to deepen trade, research, and defense ties with Israel while it annexes land, bombs refugee camps, and imposes biometric control over millions of Palestinians. This is not oversight — it is endorsement.
- Suspend Horizon Europe partnerships that funnel research funding into Israeli institutions complicit in occupation, including those developing surveillance technologies used in the West Bank and Gaza.
- Terminate bilateral agreements that enable joint policing, border control, and counterterrorism operations — operations that treat Palestinian resistance as pathology and Israeli militarism as innovation.
These agreements are not neutral frameworks. They are instruments of normalization.
To dissolve them is not to abandon diplomacy, it is to restore its integrity.
Human rights clauses must not be decorative. They must be enforceable.
And when they are violated, cooperation must end.
2. Sever Diplomatic Ties
Sever diplomatic ties with the State of Israel — a regime that sustains apartheid through annexation, siege, and ethnic cleansing. This is not metaphor. It is policy.
- Israel has annexed East Jerusalem, expanded settlements across the West Bank in violation of international law, and imposed a 17-year blockade on Gaza.
- It has deployed white phosphorus on civilian populations, bombed hospitals and refugee camps, and executed mass displacement campaigns under the guise of “security.”
Cut ties with the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which coordinates global propaganda campaigns to sanitize occupation.
Expel ambassadors who defend the bombing of schools as “self-defense.”
Suspend bilateral agreements that facilitate arms transfers, intelligence sharing, and joint surveillance operations.
End participation in trade forums that normalize apartheid as diplomacy.
Sever ties not just symbolically, but structurally:
- Cancel military cooperation with Elbit Systems, Rafael Advanced Defense Systems, and Israel Aerospace Industries — firms that export occupation as technology.
- Withdraw from academic partnerships that whitewash apartheid as innovation.
- Refuse cultural exchanges that rebrand siege as resilience.
Diplomatic ties are not neutral. They are endorsements.
To maintain them is to legitimize ethnic cleansing as policy.
To sever them is not extremism — it is precedent.
South Africa did it. Bolivia did it. Venezuela did it.
The cost is survivable. The moral clarity is overdue.
3. Impose Targeted Sanctions
Impose targeted sanctions — not generically, but surgically.
Name the financiers, commanders, and technologists who sustain the machinery of apartheid.
- Sanction Caterpillar Inc. for supplying bulldozers used to demolish Palestinian homes.
- Sanction Lockheed Martin and Leonardo for providing weapons deployed in Gaza.
- Sanction Palantir, Microsoft, Amazon, Alphabet (Google), and IBM for building surveillance infrastructures that enable biometric control, predictive policing, and digital targeting of Palestinian civilians.
- Sanction Airbnb and Booking.com for profiting from illegal settlement tourism.
- Sanction HD Hyundai for supplying machinery used in territorial erasure.
These are not passive actors; they are active collaborators.
Their technologies, logistics, and capital flows are embedded in the architecture of dispossession.
And sanction the military commanders whose names are known:
Those who oversaw the bombardment of hospitals, refugee camps, and schools.
Their ranks are not anonymous. Their strategies are not accidental.
The chain of command is traceable.
The refusal to name them is not caution — it is complicity.
To dismantle occupation, dismantle the scaffolding that sustains it.
Not just the ideology, but the infrastructure.
Not just the rhetoric, but the revenue.
Sanctions must be precise, public, and persistent.
Anything less is performance.
4. Mobilize International Protection Forces
Mobilize international protection forces — not to manage optics, but to protect life.
Not to perform neutrality, but to interrupt annihilation.
The United Nations has deployed peacekeeping missions in Rwanda, Bosnia, East Timor, and South Sudan.
It has the infrastructure. It has the precedent.
What it lacks is political will.
- Deploy forces to Gaza — not to monitor ceasefires that never hold, but to shield civilians from bombardment.
- Station observers in the West Bank — not to document settler violence after the fact, but to prevent it in real time.
- Activate the UN Human Rights Council’s mandate — not to issue reports that gather dust, but to authorize intervention.
Call upon regional bodies — the African Union, the Arab League, the Organization of Islamic Cooperation — to send protection units, not just statements.
Demand that NATO and the EU confront their complicity by refusing to treat Israeli aggression as security cooperation.
Protection forces must not be symbolic. They must be material:
Armored vehicles, medical units, communications infrastructure.
Their presence must disrupt the calculus of impunity.
Their mandate must be clear: protect Palestinian life.
Not manage perception. Not negotiate delay. Protect.
5. Withdraw from Normalization Frameworks
Withdraw from normalization frameworks that treat suppression as stability.
The Abraham Accords, brokered by the United States, rebrand apartheid as diplomacy — offering Israel regional legitimacy while entrenching Palestinian dispossession.
These agreements are not peace deals. They are strategic alliances that reward annexation, siege, and ethnic cleansing with trade, arms, and surveillance partnerships.
- Suspend participation in the Negev Forum, which convenes Israel, the UAE, Bahrain, Morocco, Egypt, and the United States under the banner of regional cooperation while excluding Palestinian representation.
- Dismantle bilateral frameworks that facilitate joint counterterrorism operations — operations that criminalize resistance and export Israeli military doctrine as a model of “security.”
Normalization is not reconciliation. It is erasure.
It demands silence in exchange for access, complicity in exchange for capital.
To withdraw is not to abandon diplomacy — it is to refuse its weaponization.
Stability built on suppression is not peace.
It is scaffolding for apartheid.
6. Redirect Resources Toward Palestinian Sovereignty
Redirect resources toward Palestinian civil society, legal infrastructure, and testimonial preservation.
Not to manage suffering, but to fortify sovereignty.
- Fund organizations like Al-Haq, Addameer, Samidoun, and the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights — groups that document violations, litigate in international courts, and archive testimony under siege.
- Support the work of Defense for Children International — Palestine, which exposes the detention and torture of minors.
- Channel resources to grassroots networks in Gaza and the West Bank that sustain food distribution, medical care, and trauma support — not through intermediaries, but directly.
Invest in digital infrastructure that protects archives from erasure.
Equip libraries, cultural centers, and oral history projects with the tools to preserve testimony in the face of bombardment and displacement.
Support legal teams preparing cases for the International Criminal Court and the International Court of Justice — not with symbolic gestures, but with sustained funding, translation, and forensic expertise.
Redirect academic grants, cultural funds, and humanitarian budgets away from institutions that normalize occupation and toward those that resist it.
Aid must not be aestheticized. It must be politicized. It must be strategic.
To preserve Palestinian life is to preserve Palestinian testimony.
And testimony, under siege, is resistance.
Final Invocation
These are not radical demands.
They are the baseline of ethical diplomacy.
Anything less is endorsement by inertia.
Every refusal to act is a reinforcement of occupation.
Every delay is complicity.
The time for symbolic gestures has passed.
The time for strategic rupture is now.
Palestinian liberation is not a diplomatic abstraction.
It is a political imperative.
And it will not be achieved through recognition alone.
It will be achieved through consequence — to the occupier.
Note: First published in Medium
Rima Najjar is a Palestinian whose father’s side of the family comes from the forcibly depopulated village of Lifta on the western outskirts of Jerusalem and whose mother’s side of the family is from Ijzim, south of Haifa.
25 September 2025
Source: countercurrents.org