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Tracking the machinery of silencing

Inside the ELSC’s Index of Repression. Part 2


05/07/2025

In the first part of this conversation, we explored how state and institutional repression of Palestine solidarity in Germany operates. From sudden protest bans to the shifting legal justifications used to criminalise speech and silence dissent.

In part two, we go deeper into the machinery behind these tactics. Layla Katterman and Sophia Hoffinger of the European Legal Support Centre (ELSC) discuss the logic of lawfare, how repression spreads across borders, and what role the Index of Repression can play in strengthening resistance, not just in Germany, but across Europe. They also share ways people can support the work of documenting and confronting this growing wave of authoritarianism.


The Index refers to lawfare as a key tactic in the repression of Palestine solidarity. Can you explain what lawfare means in this context, and how lawfare groups or individuals operate in Germany and beyond?

Layla: Yes, of course. Lawfare refers to the use of legal forums for political purposes. It’s more about inflicting damage on a political opponent than actually winning a legal argument or presenting facts based on evidence.

Specifically, in the Index and in our work, we use the term lawfare to describe attacks that aim to silence and shut down the work of civil society organisations that support Palestinian rights, including humanitarian projects that provide support to people in Gaza. Lawfare mainly affects civil society organisations because they are registered legal entities, so they become the target.

Lawfare doesn’t always rely on clear legal grounds. Sometimes vague or non-binding policies are used in ways that give them legal weight. A good example is the IHRA definition of antisemitism. It’s not legally binding, but courts and institutions often treat it as if it were, using it to justify restrictions on Palestine advocacy. 

In Britain, there is a very well-known group called UK Lawyers for Israel, and this is basically their entire purpose. That is what they do. In Germany, it’s a bit different. A lot of the cases are brought forward by individuals who are using legal forums for political purposes. So while there is no one group here that does this in a concentrated way like in the UK, the state itself takes on that role.

For example, if someone posts “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” on social media and then receives a letter from the police, that means someone reported them. The police don’t have eyes on everyone, so it’s individuals or groups using lawfare tactics to report others. But here in Germany, you don’t need lawyers making up these arguments, because the state already uses those political points in its own legal interpretations.


Sophia: This also shows up in demonstrations, for example when police implement ad hoc bans. One moment the Keffiyeh is allowed, and then suddenly it’s banned. Or they ban a flag or a slogan. Someone gets taken away for saying something like Have we learned nothing from the Holocaust.” It’s not always individual police officers making it up. Often it comes from the public prosecutor’s office. Like Layla said, it is a form of state-led lawfare.

There are also lobby groups inside Parliament. One example is the Tikvah Institute, which is partly led by the current president of the German-Israeli Society, Volker Beck, and is officially registered in the Bundestag’s lobby group register.

They describe themselves as a research institute at the intersection of research and practice with the aim of ‘fighting antisemitism.’ One of the ways in which they pursue this goal is by  trying to develop legal strategies to criminalise what they call “Israel-related antisemitism”, which in practice often means Palestine advocacy.

Last year, for example, they organised a conference to discuss how Germany’s Criminal Code could be used and expanded to criminalise expressions of Palestine solidarity more effectively; including the slogan “From the river to the sea” and expressions that are aimed at denying Israel’s right to exist. Among the participants were members of civil society and lawyers, but also representatives of political parties, the Ministry of Interior, the Public Prosecutor’s Office, and the Ministry of Justice. 

It’s interesting to see the kinds of proposals they make, like how to use Germany’s ‘reason of state’ to justify new legal restrictions, and what kind of audiences they have access to. In these spaces we can observe how new legal strategies and consensus are manufactured to criminalise Palestine advocacy. 

And what about the incidents where the state prosecutor suddenly bans a slogan on the day of a protest and people are arrested out of nowhere because of it. Do those arrests actually hold up in court?

Layla: I’d say it really depends on the judge. Especially whether they get all their sources from Wikipedia and BILD, or actually look into the case. 

But we do win most of these cases. They usually don’t have a solid legal basis but the bigger issue is that the prosecution now frames almost everything as a matter of public safety. And once something is treated as a security threat, everything else becomes secondary.

So for example, banning a language like Arabic at a protest, which has happened at several demonstrations, clearly has no legal ground. But it gets justified by saying that the police can’t tell if forbidden slogans are being chanted in Arabic because they don’t speak the language. So they ban it entirely and constitutional concerns fall by the wayside.

We’re seeing this public safety argument used more and more and it’s difficult to challenge.

Another good example is the Nakba demonstration ban. At first, the court overruled the restriction that said the protest had to be static. They said you can’t restrict a demonstration just because of fears that some individuals might commit offences. But then the police appealed, using new security arguments. They said they needed the protest to be static because they wouldn’t be able to reach or detain people otherwise. 

If we had more time, we probably could have appealed again and won. But that’s also the problem. These security arguments often come at the last minute, so there isn’t enough time to legally challenge them before the event takes place.


Sophia: You can really see that in our database. Especially after October 7, we saw a lot of protests that were first restricted, then the restrictions were overturned, and then the protests were banned again. Sometimes just five minutes after they started.

That puts everyone who shows up into a legal grey zone because suddenly they’re seen as breaking some new rule that was imposed on the spot. We’ve documented a lot of those kinds of incidents in the Index.

How do you see the role of the Index? Is it in itself a tool of resistance?

Sophia: I think the Index is about showing the different ways people continue to resist in Germany, but also elsewhere. It highlights the people who continue to stand with Palestinians and those resisting. It traces the dissenters and it exposes the ones who try to criminalise dissent in Germany again and again. So in that way, yes, it plays a role but I wouldn’t say it’s resistance in itself. I’d describe it more as a tool for accountability. 

Some people are starting to backtrack on what ‘reason of state’ means or doesn’t mean and maybe some of them are now quietly deleting their tweets from the last two years. But we have a record of how they contributed to repression and that’s part of what the Index is also for. It’s long term memory. 

At the same time, it also makes space to highlight those who haven’t been intimidated, who are still speaking up and making use of their right to dissent.

How do you see the Index contributing to transnational resistance and solidarity efforts across Europe and beyond?

Layla: I think one of the main ways the Index contributes to the resistance is by countering denial and invisibility. Often, what repression tries to do is make solidarity disappear. So part of the reason we made this database was to show that the cases we work on are not isolated. It’s structural and it’s transnational.

Next, we’re launching the same kind of database with UK data, then the Netherlands, and hopefully also expanding to Austria, Italy, and other countries across Europe. Because while the methods may look different or operate at different scales, they’re being used everywhere and these countries learn from each other. For example, the slogan “From the river to the sea” – once Germany banned it, we saw it start being discussed for bans in other places too.

What we’re tracking isn’t just repression of Palestine solidarity, it’s also a kind of panic. European governments aren’t used to such open dissent from their own official line on the genocide in Gaza — a line that denies the genocide and reflects their complicity in it. So we’re also seeing states learn from one another on how to control populations when their narratives no longer convince their citizens. 

So yes, we’re going to keep expanding the Index by adding incidents to the countries we’ve already published and build it out to include others. We want to expose how accusations of antisemitism, and support for terrorism, are being misused. We want to show how law itself is being politicised through lawfare to suppress dissent.

Sophia: And I think, just to add, the timeline we’re building across Europe also reflects this. We see repression intensify when people stand in solidarity, not only with Palestinians facing repression, but with Palestinians who are resisting that repression. These things aren’t happening in isolation. They don’t stop at the German border, or the borders of Europe. They’re directly connected to what’s happening in Palestine.

How do you imagine the Index functioning in five years’ time? What kind of role do you want it to play?

Layla: What we hope is that it becomes much more than just a list of cases. We want to add more functionalities, not just more countries, but more ways for people to use it. 

We want it to continue to be a living database. One that also highlights the work of other organisations, especially activists and grassroots groups who have done so much research and important work which often goes unnoticed.

We also want it to become a space where people can find the resources they need. To counter repression, document it while under pressure, and to actually analyse and understand what repression looks like in countries that call themselves democratic. Because often, when rights are violated in Europe, it doesn’t look like violence in the usual sense. It’s not always arrests or killings. It’s more subtle and it gets dismissed as isolated.

When people see repression happening in the Global South, they’re often quicker to name it for what it is. Here, there is doubt. So what we want to do is challenge that by showing patterns, adding analysis, expanding the database, and working more closely with other groups to build a shared infrastructure. Instead of everyone reinventing the wheel, we can join forces and build a European network that pushes back against repression wherever it’s happening and whoever it’s targeting.

Sophia: Yes, and while the Index focuses on repression of Palestine solidarity, we also hope it becomes a learning tool for other movements. Because the tactics used against this movement, while specific, are not unique. Repression doesn’t just affect one group or one cause. Other movements have been targeted in the past and current ones will be targeted in the future, so we want this to be part of a broader conversation. A tool for cross-movement learning.


There’s a recurring pattern of isolation and denial, where each act of repression is treated as an isolated incident. We saw this after the racist attack in Hanau, which prompted activists to popularise the slogan: “Hanau was no isolated case.” In response, the state framed the attack as the result of a few bad apples or individual failures to act on warning signs. That’s why exposing the systemic nature of repression, supported by long-term, in-depth research, is so important. It helps break through the pattern of doubt and enables other movements to recognize how these tactics operate across different contexts.

And finally, can people in Germany or across Europe support the work you’re doing?

Layla: Absolutely. There are many ways. One of the most important is simply reporting incidents to us. The more cases we receive, the stronger our research becomes and that helps us challenge repression, whether in court, through advocacy, or by building public pressure.


Also, the database is still a starting point. There’s so much more research that could be done. For example, someone might want to take our data and do a deep dive into how repression works in academia. The database can give them the quantitative base, and they could take it further with qualitative research. 

We really don’t claim to hold all the knowledge, and we’re very open to collaborations with others who want to explore the depth and context of these incidents more fully.

Sophia: None of this would be possible without the people who’ve reported to us and that takes courage. These are often very frightening, very painful experiences, so we rely on people continuing to speak up, to share what they’ve gone through, and to keep going out into the streets without being intimidated.


That doesn’t just help us, it’s central to everything we do, so we’d love to connect with more researchers, organisations, and movements who are doing similar work. There’s a lot of potential to develop this further, in ways we might not even be able to imagine yet.


Layla: Also, volunteers, we’re always looking for more support with monitoring. Whatever help people can give, we really welcome it. The database is just the tip of the iceberg and the majority of repression isn’t reported because most people don’t speak out. So the more support we have, the better we can uncover what’s happening, especially beyond Berlin. Also, if a lawyer reads the article, it would be great if they reach out too.

Our team is based in Berlin, and naturally our network is strongest there, but we want to expand much more across Germany and across Europe. Every bit of information helps make our work stronger. It helps us challenge repression and make it visible, so that people don’t just accept it as normal.

Academic hyperzionism

A radical critique of Ingo Elbe’s book “Antisemitism and Postcolonial Theory”

Vintage 1931 map of Palestine which has been subdivided by squares. Parts of it are demarcated as "international body"

This critique takes a radical postcolonial perspective, directly opposing the arguments made in the author’s book. Rather than providing a detailed analysis of the book’s content, this commentary aims to expose the underlying assumptions, distortions, and omissions that serve as key narrative strategies. We caution that readers seeking an in-depth examination of the book may not find this critique particularly useful; instead, it comments on the text as part of a broader attack on post-colonial scholars, showing that what is stated in those pages provides more information about the author and the intellectual climate in Germany than what is intended to be said about “others.”

Ingo Elbe’s Antisemitismus und postkoloniale Theorie was published in 2024, in the context of increasing global criticism of Israel’s policies and the ongoing genocide in Gaza. In Elbes’ 400-page book, he misrepresents reality by distorting facts and omitting critical aspects of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. This framing functions as an ideological defense, portraying postcolonial studies (PCS) as inherently anti-Semitic while deliberately overlooking Israel’s colonial occupation of Palestine.

This narrative is a deliberate distortion based on a selective omission, portraying the conflict in the Middle East as primarily racial and religious. Yet, this intentional oversight seems to be a key tactic, a framing that obscures the real cause of the struggle, which is territorial and therefore settler-colonial. In this frame, the author ignores that Palestinians, as occupied people, have a right to resist their colonial occupation, a stance even supported by a United Nations resolution (1973). Within the flawed logic that conflates anti-Zionism with antisemitism, the attacks on postcolonial scholars appear justified, and undermining the reality of colonial occupation paves the way for the series of fallacious arguments that the book advances. Now, let us examine some of the book’s main points.

I. There is no colonialism

By selectively choosing facts, images, and arguments from various contexts and debates among postcolonial theorists—from Latin America to the U.S. to Asia and Africa—the author attempts to lend credibility to his central accusation. However, this strategy is both deliberate and deeply flawed. It is concerning to see the repeated use of a familiar rhetorical pattern, where any critique of Israel is swiftly dismissed as antisemitic. This tactic, often employed by those who defend Israel unconditionally, deflects legitimate criticism by either ignoring it or misrepresenting it as an attack motivated by deep “hate against Jews.”

Elbe presents his book as an intellectual contribution, but its focus on labeling postcolonial scholars and activists who critique Israel’s colonial practices as “antisemites” makes it resemble a defamation campaign. Although Elbe invokes the IHRA’s definition of antisemitism to justify his criticism, acknowledging but not accepting the much more nuanced definition provided by the Jerusalem declaration as the basis for defining “antisemitism.” So, conflating such criticism with anti-Jewish hatred, he sets the groundwork for his fallacious argument.

As Moshe Zuckermann argues in Antisemit!: Ein Vorwurf als Herrschaftsinstrument, the conflation of anti-Zionism with antisemitism is not only intellectually dishonest but also misrepresents the perspectives of Jewish voices critical of Israel. Figures like Zuckermann, Judith Butler, Naomi Klein, and Noam Chomsky have long emphasized that criticism of Israel’s policies is not the same as antisemitism, and all of them have been labelled as “Antisemitic” or “self-hating jews.”

Following the same narrative, widely used in Europe and Germany to defend and justify Israel’s actions, lies at the core of Elbe’s argumentative structure. This can be represented as a syllogism of a logical chain of denialism of Israel’s colonial nature:

  • If Israel is not a colonial state, then it has not committed acts of apartheid or ethnic cleansing.
  • Therefore, any accusation of genocide against Israel can be dismissed as anti-Semitic.

This argument unravels when confronted with overwhelming evidence of Israel’s settler-colonial history, as documented by historians like Ilan Pappe, Rashid Khalidi, and many others. Pappe’s work reveals the systematic expulsion and erasure of Palestinians, directly contradicting Elbe’s claim that such accusations are merely continuations of “anti-Jewish traditions.” It seems that Germans, who have the opportunity to redefine history, prefer to distance themselves from their historical antisemitism and project it onto critics of Israel, the left, and Arab communities, as if there had never been antisemitism in Germany. As the author Esra Özyürek recently said in an interview:

“This accusation goes back to the idea that you are allowed into the social contract as long as you prove that you have learned lessons from the Nazi regime. How do you prove it? By showing you are philosemitic, which in the German context means claiming allegiance to Israel. By definition, those who don’t do that don’t deserve to be part of Germany. The idea that Muslims have different cultural ideas, which makes them not fit into German culture, has been around for a long time. Now the focus is on antisemitism. There is this feeling among the Right and also the Left, settled around the idea that Muslims do not deserve to be here because they are anti-Semitic.”

For many of these so-called anti-anti-semites, to protest against a genocide wouls make you an antisemite. Even the claim “a genocide is happening” is called antisemitic propaganda. Elbe’s denial of Israel’s genocide reaches its extreme, extending accusations of antisemitism even to allegations brought forth by South Africa in the International Court of Justice (ICJ). The author writes, “The question arises whether the genocide accusation is not a continuation of the ritual murder and blood lie from the anti-Jewish tradition” (p. 25-26). Despite the “cautious,” question-like tone, the message of this sentence is clear: South Africa is commiting an antisemitic act by accusing Israel of genocide. This rhetorical tactic seeks to discredit criticism of Israel’s actions by framing them in a distorted historical narrative. In this strategy, denial and accusation work in tandem. 

II. Against academic “mainstream”

Elbe positions himself as a defender of academia, claiming to challenge a “mainstream” supposedly dominated by PCS. However, the notion that he is battling an “academic hegemony” is far from reality in Germany and elsewhere, where PCS has been under relentless attack. As Allana Lentin notes in Why Race Still Matters, the narrative that PCS has taken over academia is often used by right-wing intellectuals to undermine critiques of Western imperialism. Other titles in the tradition of “clashing of civilizations“ discuss the distrust of the West, describing it as “war against the West” or even as hatred towards the West. Moreover, Elbe’s self-victimization can be read as part of a larger ideological strategy, aligning his work with the defense of the Western historical legacy.

In Germany, Elbe’s claims of resisting academic orthodoxy ring especially hollow in view that pro-Palestinian voices are systematically silenced, and cast out of the academic circles, as the cases of Gassan Hage and Nancy Fraser make clear. Moreover, Elbe’s ideas align with the dominant political narrative that dismisses any criticism of Israel as antisemitic, while the tactic of self-victimization is less about defending academic integrity and more about reinforcing the power structures that postcolonial scholars aim to deconstruct. A clear example of how Elbe’s argument is received in Germany is its citation by far-right AFD politicians, who use his work to attack postcolonial theory and dispute Germany’s developmental programs, as well as the view of Israel as a colonial power. It is as if Germany is already seeing the first signs of a historical revisionism that will emerge in the coming years.

III. Against a “Manichean” worldview

Elbe accuses postcolonial scholars of promoting a Manichean worldview. While it is true that some scholars may overemphasize the crimes of European colonialism, his critique overlooks the fundamental purpose of postcolonial studies, which is to address both historical and ongoing injustices. As Pankaj Mishra argues, the legacy of colonialism continues to shape global power dynamics, reflected today in the unconditional support of Israel by this same “West,“ which makes PCS´s intellectual and political contributions crucial in challenging and exposing these enduring legacies.

Ironically, Elbe engages in a form of reverse Manicheanism, selectively attacking postcolonial scholars while ignoring critiques from Jewish intellectuals. Figures such as Judith Butler, Naomi Klein, and Norman Finkelstein have long critiqued Israel’s policies from a leftist, anti-Zionist perspective. Yet, Elbe’s oversimplification of “Jewishness” and how jews have to behave regarding Israel demonstrates his refusal to engage with the diversity of thought within the leftist tradition in general and PCS in particular. It highlights his ideological alignment with those who seek to protect Israel’s status as a Western ally and as an imperial protectorate.

IV. Hyperzionism

Elbe’s book reflects a significant fear among German “intellectuals” regarding the need to confront the legacy of their own hypocrisy and historical violence. As Rob Nixon discusses in Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor, Western nations have long concealed the structural violence of their imperial and colonial pasts. Today, that legacy is starkly visible in the context of Gaza, the bombing campaign of Lebanon, and the recent war with Iran.

The recent statements by the new German chancellor, including “Israel is doing the dirty work for all of us,” are a perfect example of this imperialist alliance based on the continuous dehumanisation of the other, be they Palestinian, Yemeni, Iranian, or left-wing dissidents. Narratives like Elbe’s contribute to a broader ideological trend aimed at protecting Western interests, using intellectual discourse to maintain the neo-colonial and U.S. imperialist status quo.

Unsurprisingly, such views are prevalent within German academia, aiming to shape perspective of new generations of Germans in defense of the Western imperial legacy, warning against the “internal” and “external” threats, whether they be “hordes of immigrants” (from Arab countries seeking to enter Europe after their homelands have been destroyed), or the external threat from Russia. Apparently, Israel plays a leading role in this Western imperialist alliance against its “threats,” that the most warmongering German politicians and academics are unwilling to let it fall, showing a support that, due to its obvious hypocrisy and double standards, borders on the irrational and even fanatical.

This German hyper-Zionism, as Hans Kundnani describes it, even permeates leftist circles and the German Green Party. It is a strange nationalist tendency to perceive Israel as an improved version of the German self, a gross historical misrepresentation, particularly regarding the so-called Anti-Deutsch elements. For any outsider, it’s not easy to understand this strange kind of Freudian projection. 

Final words

Ultimately, Antisemitismus und postkoloniale Theorie is not to be taken seriously as an “academic contribution”; instead, it needs to be seen as a piece of ideological propaganda designed to defend Israel’s colonial policies and maintain the Western narrative of self-glorification while “the only democracy in the Middle East“ continues in genociding Palestinians and bombing their neighboring nations. As the world grapples with the realities of colonialism and the ongoing genocidal campaign in Gaza, scholars like Elbe will find themselves increasingly isolated as their efforts to shield Israel and its ongoing crimes against humanity crumble under the weight of historical evidence and moral clarity. However, let’s be clear that this mixture of hyper-Zionism, contempt for historical facts, and moral panic, as Illan Pappe calls it, seems only possible in places like Germany.

Red Flag: Watermelons at the Fusion Festival

In his weekly column, Nathaniel Flakin examines Berlin’s favorite radical left festival and Palestinian solidarity


04/07/2025

Last weekend, the world’s media focused on Glastonbury. The Irish hip-hop group Kneecap was cut from the live broadcast due to their solidarity with Palestine — and the English punk band Bob Vylan electrified tens of thousands with chants of “Death, death to the IDF!” Keir Starmer called the chant “appalling” — a harsher condemnation than he has managed for 20 months of genocide in Gaza.

With everyone else watching Somerset, Berlin leftists kept their eyes on Lärz, a small town two hours north of Berlin. At a former Soviet air base, 70,000 people were trying to create “vacation communism” at the Fusion Festival. Both the tagesschau and the police reported nonchalantly that there were “no disturbances” — quite a contrast to the rote denunciations of “Israel hatred” at cultural events.

In Lärz, there were indeed watermelons, “Free Palestine” signs, and artists speaking out against genocide — but reporters simply didn’t see that, as they’re not allowed on the grounds. On Sunday, up to 150 people joined a pro-Palestine demonstration through Fusion.

A pro-Israel group calling itself “Fusionistas Against Antisemitism and Antizionism” brought together around 100 people and complained that their stall was banned. They refer to supposed “antisemitic incidents” at last year’s festival, but they are using the same distorted statistics as the German government — every time a non-Jewish supporter of Israel faces criticism for advocating war crimes, they declare themselves to be a “victim of antisemitism” — even when they’re attacking left-wing Jews

It seems rather absurd to present support for an apartheid state — the exact same position as CDU, AfD, Axel Springer, etc. — as part of a “pluralistic” and “non-hierarchical” left. Isn’t Zionism quite hierarchical when it comes to who can live in Palestine? But then the Antideutsche were always absurd.

Not a Bubble

At Fusion, as everywhere else, Zionists are losing ground as the whole world watches a genocide unfold live on their phones. I have written about Fusion again and again and again, and after a multi-year break (for… you know… reasons), I was able to return for nine hours on Sunday, and I brought my own “Fusion Fights Apartheid” shirt. The very first Fusion worker I met, while getting on the bus in Berlin, hugged me.

Fusion’s radical left politics are not overt — it’s more like a place for leftists to zone out and make some money. It’s basically a Soliparty at the neighborhood squat, but at a bafflingly enormous scale. And for the record: I have no problem with that! Leftists get stressed, and it’s ok for us to want to shut off our brains for a few days — even better if it’s with other leftists and for a good cause.

Yet as much as Fusion feels removed from the outside world — people waiting in line at the entrance will say “I’ll see you on the other side” — it is not actually a bubble. Its politics reflect those of the Berlin Left. At the moment, up to 80% of people in Germany reject weapons shipments for Israel, and even Die Linke (the Left Party), which historically defended Zionism, can now be seen at pro-Palestinian demonstrations.

Muddled Statements

Last year, Fusion tried to strike a balance between the censorious demands of Germany’s “reason of state” and the left-wing views of their attendees, particularly the international ones. The organizers, Kulturkosmos, put out a statement demanding recognition of “Israel’s right to exist.” But as many people pointed out, leftists do not defend any state’s “right to exist,” and certainly not a settler-colonial state founded on the basis of ethnic cleansing. 

After lots of criticism and calls for a boycott, the Zentralkommittee published a follow-up acknowledging they had “written from our German perspective,” and should be clear about Israeli apartheid and genocide. The text was muddled, but it pointed in the right direction.

There was a subsequent call to double down on the boycott, but I think this was a mistake. While I understand everyone who doesn’t want to support events that are not 100% clear on Palestine, I think we should fight for all of our spaces. If Antideutsche are crying about being excluded, then we shouldn’t be simultaneously excluding ourselves.

There are many things to criticize about Fusion — it wouldn’t be a left-wing festival if we weren’t constantly arguing about it. It is indeed too white, too hetero, too German, and above all too cautious in its politics. It’s not a good look that Glastonbury, a commercial festival with liberal politics, had more to say than Fusion, for and by radical leftists. Yet people are learning and Fusion is changing — as evidenced by the many watermelons in Lärz.

Red Flag is a weekly column on Berlin politics that Nathaniel Flakin has been writing since 2020. After moving through different homes, it now appears at The Left Berlin.

I don’t think the center could hold even if it tried to

On the “No Kings” protests and the crackdown on expression in the United States


02/07/2025

A photograph of protestors at a "No Kings" demonstration. One holds a sign which reads "Our democracy is under attack by our own government".

A couple of weeks ago, I sat in a café in Northern California, where I live, and anxiously scrolled through headline after headline, post after post, about the deployment of the United States National Guard and Marines to the city of Los Angeles. The deployment of 2,000 California National Guard members, undertaken without the input of California Governor Gavin Newsom or any state leaders, was announced on June 7th in response to protests in Los Angeles against continued Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids against our undocumented community members. In the days that followed, that deployment ballooned to another 2,000 National Guard members, followed by 700 United States Marines.

We are about seven or eight hours away from Los Angeles, but considering the simultaneous protests in San Francisco and Sacramento, no amount of pretend normalcy or California sunshine could cut through the tension that seemed to renew every time the espresso maker hissed. The barista in charge of the music kept playing songs specifically about California, until switching to The Beach Boys shortly after the death of Brian Wilson was announced. I have to admit that I have rarely felt the kind of public anxiety pulsing through the café that morning, despite the other moments I can point to, and have participated in, that have followed a related political trajectory. I have to admit that this makes me lucky.

The night before, Karen Bass, current mayor of Los Angeles, imposed a curfew on one square mile of downtown Los Angeles in response to the notion put forward by U.S. President Donald Trump and his administration that the protests in the city, in particular those focused on the Metropolitan Detention Center, had become violent, that Los Angeles was a festering urban hellscape of lawlessness and depravity. With the exception of those residing or working in the area, failure to disperse had the consequence of detention or arrest, mostly carried out by the Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD).

The imposition of a curfew can be viewed multiple ways—Karen Bass called it a “tipping point”, reporting that 23 businesses had been looted. Jim McDonnell, Chief of the LAPD, framed it as a matter of public safety. Governor Newsom, backed by Mayor Bass, took the position that the citizens of Los Angeles and California should not in any way validate the Trump administration’s characterization of the situation. In his address to California, Newsom took great pains to clearly demarcate the line between state enforcement of immigration and federal escalation and misuse of power, telling us directly that “criminal behavior will not be tolerated” while also calling on us to exercise our right to protest.

The protests themselves have largely been peaceful, something repeatedly emphasized in play-by-play coverage by The New York Times, by CNN, and by the Associated Press, especially as protests began spreading to other cities (I want to note as well that demonstrations have been consistently occurring on a smaller scale over the past several months). However, despite this emphasis, multiple narratives also emerged about the tone and mood of the protests. Major news outlets also skipped heartbeats to report the hundreds of arrests taking place, while Fox News termed the protests in Los Angeles “an invasion.” On social media, it quickly became a common refrain for people to warn each other to protest not with foreign flags, but with Californian or American flags—this way, protestors could not be accused of invasion, of unpatriotic behavior, or of malicious intent.

On June 14th, an estimated 5 million people participated in coordinated “No Kings” demonstrations across all 50 states. I was one of those 5 million people, one of an estimated 3,500 in my town according to local organizers, in a county that votes consistently for GOP candidates and voted for Donald Trump in the 2024 election. Aside from two trucks with Gadsden flags and one man who angrily flipped us off as we marched in serpentine coils through downtown, we encountered dozens of supportive car honks. I saw people I’d never seen at demonstrations before, and for several people I talked to, it had been their first ever protest. Parents carried babies on their shoulders. Next to me, an 11-year-old child shouted with the crowd, “Immigrants are welcome here!”. People in neon safety vests who had trained in crowd safety and de-escalation helped us safely cross streets. When a fire truck drove down Main Street, everyone cheered at it, and the man driving it waved back at us. The police did not tear gas us, as they did to protestors in Georgia—we largely seemed to ignore each other. Despite the news we had woken up to that morning regarding the assassination of Minnesota lawmaker Melissa Hortman and her husband (and the attempted assassination of Minnesota State Senator John Hoffman and his wife), there was a sense of relief and jubilation in the crowd: We were here together. Our community, like so many others, has absorbed and survived multiple historic and deadly wildfires—but on this day, we were here together.

Later that night, I absorbed the reporting emerging from other states: Some clashes between law enforcement and protestors had occurred in Los Angeles, in Portland, and in some smaller cities. Some protests had been targeted, with an attack in Utah resulting in the death of a Samoan-American fashion designer. Despite these events, however, the protests remained largely peaceful.

So if these protests have been mostly peaceful, then why are governors in other, largely conservative-led states, following Trump’s lead and deploying the National Guard? The imbalance of both agency and media response to these protests may result in a worrying trend regarding how protests are dealt with, despite the nonviolent and self-censoring actions of these demonstrations. For all of Chief McDonnell’s talk of the LAPD supporting Angelenos (an endearing nickname for residents of Los Angeles), we can see them on horseback, trampling protestors and striking them with batons. For all of Governor Newsom’s supportive rhetoric, he has simultaneously reinforced that the State of California can and will use force against its citizens all by itself.

The line between peaceful protest and unlawful assembly is continually moved, as exemplified by the curfew itself, and by the mixed messages people are given: We can and should protest, but only if we do it a certain way so as not to upset anyone. It doesn’t matter if ICE raids take place at schools, or in Home Depot parking lots, or at farms, and disrupt our public life—if we dare to be too angry about it, we are painted as lawless by both our enemies and the people who are supposed to stand up for us and our neighbors. I fear the lack of acknowledgement of the power differentials at work here. I also fear the implications of the logic at play here:  that it is okay to use force against civilians, regardless of their status, if the LAPD, if the San Francisco Police Department, if the DeKalb County Sheriff’s Office, says it is okay, because the alternative—the National Guard and the Marines—is objectively worse.

As of the evening of June 17th, 2025, the curfew imposed on downtown Los Angeles has been lifted. There are no curfews taking place in other California cities. The mainstream news cycle has shifted its too fearful and too savvy eye towards the escalating conflict between Iran, Israel, and the United States. Too infrequently, a headline about Gaza blooms red beneath the headline banner, another ticker line about targeted aid workers and starving or murdered civilians whose names would take an entire small-town plaza to vigil, whose names could stretch around city blocks for an uncomfortable distance.

But ICE has been given renewed directives to expand their raids in California and across the United States, contradicting previous declarations from the Trump administration that raids would cease at farms, restaurants, and hotels. US Citizens and elected officials alike have been arrested, detained, and disrespected for attempting to speak out and exercise the right to protest. Local police departments are assisting ICE, even if Chief McDonnell claims that LAPD is not one of them. If these agencies are working cooperatively together, despite narratives that place them at odds with one another based on city, state, or federal jurisdiction lines, I find myself focused on how they are still working together against the rest of us, and primarily against those among us who are undocumented, who may have applied for asylum several years ago but are still held up in the endless bureaucratic queue of lawful citizenship.

About a week before the deployment of the National Guard to Los Angeles, I got a sudden urge to re-read some of the works of the seminal California writer Joan Didion. On a camping trip in the Sierra Nevada, I breezed through The White Album and Slouching Toward Bethlehem, reflecting on words the critic Hilton Als spoke in a 2017 documentary about Didion: “You couldn’t write a cohesive narrative about the times, because the times weren’t cohesive.” I’d been feeling anxious already, even prior to the escalation which I worry has become normal; Didion’s work gave some conviction to my sense that we were sliding into a historical kind of disorder over the past decade or two in particular, that this was not an abnormal thing to be feeling. I had no idea that a week later I would be buzzing with an even more intense feeling that this was indeed the case.

I’ve found myself holding onto the phrase she borrows from the W.B. Yeats poem, “The Second Coming”: “Things fall apart; the center cannot hold”. In Slouching Towards Bethlehem, this becomes, “The center was not holding”, with Didion’s verb change linguistically implying a fundamental and irreparably-in-progress fragmentation of order. Perhaps now, the center cannot hold even if it wanted to, even if we tried to make it hold; we can no longer afford to ignore what is happening to our public life, our neighbors, our friends and loved ones. What counts for normal, for order, when our communities are being attacked, and our governor platforms right-wing conservatives with one breath while calling on us to protest with the other?

Didion, a New School journalist and writer who was characterized in an obituary as someone who drifted from the Republican Party in her youth towards the Democratic Party “without ever quite endorsing their core beliefs”, was said to have a fear of disorder, that manifested as metaphors involving snakes in her work. After having spent five years in Northern California, living through wildfire, I can understand this fear, and I believe that she partially tempers it with her writing about water, in which she recognizes that control over such a valuable resource in such a volatile climate is often a futile and self-destructive endeavor. As I sat in the café reading the news with The Beach Boys’ “Good Vibrations” surfing over me, as I protested with my community members, and as I continue to watch these senseless raids, I have come to think that maybe we, the people out on the street, are the water, looking out for the cops and the snakes on Gadsden flags in the corner of our eye, worried for the ways in which our own so-called protectors will try to dam us up next.

News from Berlin and Germany, 2nd July 2025

Weekly news round-up from Berlin and Germany


01/07/2025

NEWS FROM BERLIN

Referendum “Berlin car-free” is admissible

The regional court in Berlin announced last week that the “Berlin car-free” referendum is admissible. The MPs now have four months to pass or reject the law. If they reject it, a second signature-gathering phase will begin, in which the initiative must collect signatures from 7% of Berlin’s eligible voters within four months. If they are successful, a referendum could be held in 2026. The draft law stipulates that after a transitional period of four years, private individuals will only be allowed to make 12 trips per person per year within the S-Bahn ring. Numerous special permits for commercial traffic and special needs are planned, and taxis will still be allowed. Source: taz

Queer-hostile attack on bar in Prenzlauer Berg

Berlin police have reported several anti-queer offenses in an attack on a bar, the “Tipsy Bear,” in Prenzlauer Berg, last Saturday. According to current information, a group of seven to eight people is said to have appeared at the bar at around 1:45 am. One of the young men from the group reportedly turned towards the pub with a baseball bat in his hand, fleeing when police officers approached. The Berlin State Office of Criminal Investigation has taken over the investigation. In recent years, there have been several attacks against the bar on Eberswalder Straße. Source: queer.de

NEWS FROM GERMANY

Germany stops reunification of refugees’ families

The German Parliament has approved government plans to suspend the admission into the country of family members of individuals with subsidiary protection status for the next two years. Currently, over 300,000 people with subsidiary protection status live in Germany, the majority from Syria. The classification is for people who do not meet the specific criteria for refugee status under the Geneva Convention but who face a risk of serious harm in their country of origin. Critics, such as human rights NGO ProAsyl, have said that separation from family can place a huge psychological strain on those affected. Source: dw

Söder indicates ideas for a German “Iron Dome”

Markus Söder (CSU) told Bild am Sonntag that thousands of drones and new missile systems need to be purchased, as well as a German version of the “Iron Dome.” “Germany needs a protective shield with precision weapons,” according to Söder, who is calling for the establishment of a drone army with 100,000 drones and a missile defense shield based on the Israeli model. “To this end, we should cooperate with Ukraine and Israel and use their experience.” The CSU politician also mentioned that the Bundeswehr needs other weapons such as “2,000 Patriots and 1,000 Taurus just for Germany,” among others. Source: spiegel

Merkel criticizes asylum policy

Former Chancellor Angela Merkel has distanced herself from the practice of the CDU/CSU-led Interior Ministry of having asylum seekers turned back at the border. “If someone says ‘asylum’ here at the German border, they must first be given a procedure. Directly at the border, if you like, but a procedure,” said the Christian Democrat at a meeting with former refugees. “That’s my understanding of European law.” Merkel also warned against allowing herself to be driven by the AfD when it comes to migration policy. “I can’t always just talk about the AfD and take up their agenda,” she said. Source: tagesschau

SPD calls for AfD ban

The SPD has officially launched efforts to ban the AfD. At their party congress in Berlin last weekend, delegates voted unanimously to set up a federal working group tasked with collecting evidence of the far-right party’s unconstitutionality. “The nationalist wing dominates the party,” reads the resolution. The hurdles here are high: a party can only be banned if it is proven to actively work against the constitution, a line the SPD claims the AfD has now clearly crossed. “Of course it’s risky,” admitted Thuringia’s SPD interior minister Georg Maier, “but the risk of doing nothing is even greater.” Source: theberliner

Poland introduces controls at border with Germany

Germany has led the way, now it is Poland’s turn, which will from 7 July introduce temporary border controls with Germany and Lithuania. Normally, there are no checks on people at internal borders in the Schengen area. The German government has already ordered checks at all German borders to combat irregular migration. However, the legal assessment of rejections at the border is inconsistent. At the beginning of June, the Berlin Administrative Court ruled that three people from Somalia, who had been refused entry from Poland by the Federal Police despite having applied for asylum, could not be turned back. Source: br