Journalism on the Go: How to Create Social Media Videos
Presentation from the Left Journalism Day School, 31st May 2025
Cherry Adam
03/06/2025

Presentation from the Left Journalism Day School, 31st May 2025
Cherry Adam
03/06/2025
A Critique of Environmental (Un)Reason
Why does the German environmental movement not protest the environmental and social costs of Europe’s rearmament? And why does this movement that pretends to hold solidarity with people from the Global South not seem to care about Palestinian life in Gaza?
The environmental movements seem to be tacitly accepting of Europe’s path of increasing militarisation. The lack of awareness concerning this path for a “militarized peace” in Europe reveals a deeper issue within the German environmental movement.
The North Atlantic Treaty Organization’s (NATO) propaganda has effectively manipulated public opinion, convincing the public that peace is not just unattainable but undesirable. War, we are told, is a necessary cost for security, and rearmament is sold as progress. European leaders pretend to build a war society. Moreover, the German environmental movement has not placed peace at the centre of its demands, accepting a perpetual state of war as the new normal of European reality.
Ecology as Structural Critique
As a starting point, it’s essential to differentiate between the ecologies at stake: the ecology of abundance in the North and the ecology of scarcity in the South. Despite its obvious flaws, this distinction remains crucial, even though the forces of rampant neoliberalism and militarism are now imposing new logics of austerity and structural poverty within Europe itself. Joan Martínez-Alier coined the term “ecology of the poor” to highlight the differences between these ecologies, which is now reflected in the support of different struggles, not only “environmental“. Historically, there has been a direct connection between critiques of production systems that externalize pollution and emissions to the Global South, while reaping the benefits of consumption in the North. During the sixties and seventies, the analyses of the vast inequalities between North and South focused primarily on economic criteria; however, ecological concerns have been increasingly integrated, giving rise to the multidisciplinary field of political ecology. Economists, anthropologists, and geographers attempt to explain the persistent unequal relations between the “developed” and “developing worlds”, reading through the lens of neo-colonial power structures that have been gaining strength. Concepts such as “outsourcing society” seek to expose these interdependencies and the hidden structures of global exploitation, concerning the interconnection of (G)local ecological realities. The subaltern subjects — poor, peasant, and indigenous — have historically suffered the most from the onslaught of a capitalist extractive regime that destroys the ecological fabric. It has been marked by years of experience of living in an extractivist global regime that places the risks of disasters on its most disadvantaged population. These realities — marked by environmental disasters and socio-natural catastrophes — have elevated ecological awareness into a fundamental question of justice that cannot be detached from broader ecopolitical and sociological realities. This intersectional perspective means that environmentalism cannot be separated from wider social and historical justice demands. This feature distinguishes a “Southern” ecological movement from its “Northern” counterparts in terms of the depth of their struggles.
These global differences have become more visible during the Conference of Parties (COP) summits, which have repeatedly failed to hold the developed world accountable for its responsibility in the slow, catastrophic events of climate change. It now seems more widely accepted that the most affluent societies have also polluted the most in order to achieve their current levels of wealth, whether through energy demands, natural resources, consumption patterns, or the production of waste and toxicity.
Europe’s New Militarist Agenda
The mass-scale waste of energy and mineral resources spent on the plan of militarization will inevitably worsen the climate crisis. Yet the silence of the European population in the face of rearmament and genocide can be explained by a sustained campaign of fear, censorship, and propaganda. The remains of the green agenda need to fit the logic of necropolitical capitalism, all while remaining trapped within an ecocidal vision of endless economic growth.
The political and financial elites seem to have already set aside the promises of a “green economy” in favour of more lucrative ventures, reorienting towards the weapons and security industry. The Plan “ReaArm Europe/Readiness 2030” proposes to leverage over €800 billion in “defence spending through national fiscal flexibility”. Europe wants its own military-industrial complex, abandoning its self-imposed debt brakes to manage its public debt effectively. By releasing this institutionalised bondage, Europe is now free to buy more weapons, presenting these measures as an “investment” in its long-term security. This development will indebted European citizens, leading to more poverty and austerity, and the draining of public funds into private hands.
Meanwhile, the American military-industrial complex continues to thrive, financed by European taxpayers. A “win-win” situation for entrenched power: military, economic, and political elites profit, while the public is pacified with fear and distraction. At home in Europe, political leaders deflect responsibility by blaming Russia or scapegoating immigrants. Border security and mass deportation will be the norm to face Europe’s new declared internal “threats,” now that opponents of the genocide in Gaza may face deportation.
The German Bubble
The German environmental movement experienced a resurgence in 2018 with the rise of Fridays for Future, followed by the emergence of Extinction Rebellion and Letzte Generation. However, their civil disobedience tactics employed during the last years have sparked backlash. Mainstream media have vilified their actions, and public opinion has cooled, while activists have been criminalised.
On the website of the Letzte Generation, a letter to President F. W. Steinmeier expresses concern about the rise of the right wing in Germany as well as the destructive industrial acceleration. Greater honesty is demanded in talking to the German public about what the future holds for them. Another publication addresses the elephant in the room, calling for an end to fossil fuels (gas, coal, and oil) and the more extensive development of clean alternative energy sources. However, nothing is said about the end of the war and the end of the killings in Gaza, as if both events had nothing to do with the German government.
On the other hand, the group Extinction Rebellion appears to be more radical, advocating for climate justice, addressing the climate crisis, preserving planetary biodiversity, resisting power structures, and rethinking democracy, and even referring to post-growth as an unavoidable necessity for planetary survival. However, their website does not explicitly call for an end to the war in Ukraine and Gaza either.
If ecological consciousness means being aware of these deep connections, as Jason Hickel pointed out: “this is the thing about ecology, everything is interconnected”, then, how can we understand this mindset that overlooks the injustices that happen with the direct help of the German government?
The narrowness of this mindset is even more notable given the environmental struggles in the Global South, as Luisa Neubauer, a spokesperson for Friday For Future (FFF), said in an interview.
“It’s different for activists in the Global South or in fundamentally less privileged starting positions, where the struggles are completely different and more closely interlinked. That is why there is a certain mistrust among some people when we in Germany say that we are committed to climate justice. Because they fear that we are not serious.”
Neubauer at least demonstrates a critical awareness that climate justice cannot be separated from struggles against political oppression and structural inequality. In the interview, Neubauer distanced herself from the international FFF movement due to the broader movement’s supposed “lack of commitment to Jewish life” after the Hamas attacks in October 2023. In November 2023, Neubauer harshly criticized Greta Thunberg’s lack of solidarity with Israeli Jews, without mention of the thousands of Palestinian women and children already killed by the Israeli war machine. Their selective advocacy exposes an unsettling indifference toward the populations most impacted by the destructive system they claim to oppose.
Neubauer mentions the tension around the Israel-Palestine conflict within the environmental movement. In her view, before the Hamas attacks happened, the movement had managed to work together despite these tensions around “Israel-Palestine”. After the attacks, however, FFF Germany aligned itself more closely with the pro-Israel position of the German government and media, distancing itself from the broader movement.
The quoted interview also touched on the framing of Palestinians as indigenous people:
ZEIT: “So, translated: The Israelis are the white people, the oppressors, the privileged. The Palestinians are the brown people, the oppressed, for whom you have to stand up. Do we understand that correctly?
Neubauer: “That’s not my personal opinion, but an outgrowth of a discourse that I see internationally. In addition, Palestinians are read as indigenous people in large parts of the international discourse. And when we talk about climate justice, indigenous people are at the centre of many struggles. They experience enormous injustices, even though they are also those who protect large parts of ecosystems and biodiversity. I think we are seeing that even intersectionality can reach its limits. And that is where, in the search for the greatest suffering, hierarchies of suffering are opened up and hardly any contradictions are permitted.”
The interviewer’s irreverent tone reflects the hostility toward postcolonial frameworks that cast Palestinians as indigenous and Israelis as colonial settlers. In Germany and other places, postcolonial and decolonial theory has been increasingly attacked, labelled as “antisemitic” due to its commitment to anti-Zionist and anti-colonial perspectives.
Despite Neubauer distancing herself from these interpretations, she acknowledges their prominence in international discourse. Still, this recognition remains abstract, unable to challenge the dominant narrative within Germany, where criticism of Israel is aggressively repressed. Historical facts and global solidarity do not easily penetrate the hardened ideological bubble sustained by media and political alignment with Israeli policies in Germany.
Given the intensity with which pro-Palestinian protests are policed and criminalised, Neubauer’s position is, to some extent, understandable—though not defensible. The German media landscape has created a climate where openly acknowledging a genocide is a career-ending move. Neubauer’s position reflects not only the cognitive dissonance in which many Germans live, but also contributes to the broader authoritarian shift that criminalises dissent. It underscores the profound contradiction between Germany’s self-proclaimed commitment to human rights and its unwavering support for Israel in the face of an unfolding genocide.
Thus, the German ecological movement’s limited and partial critique, and its apparent silence about Gaza and Europe’s rearmament, in the end, points to easing the guilty conscience of the Global North´s subjectivities, whose high living standards and consumption patterns are built on extraction and exploitation in other parts of the world. In this sense, Northern environmentalism becomes a limited version of ecological awareness, interpreting processes of decolonial struggle merely as a metaphor for a fight in abstract terms. Its stance is deeply provincial and depoliticized, which, despite its claims and supposed radicalism, ignores the colonial and imperialist structures that the political elites in Europe and the US lead and uphold.
We slumber into destruction…
Joseph Schumpeter’s famous concept of creative destruction reflects on capitalism’s destructive nature through economic growth and constant technical innovation. Marx and Polanyi depicted capitalism as a system born of dispossession and the enclosure of the commons. The basic operating system of capitalism is seeking new markets and territories to conquer. However, a crisis occurs when the imperative of eternal growth collides with the reality that there are no new markets left. Once the system has expanded across the planet, destruction becomes the new frontier. Destruction creates opportunities for renewed accumulation, especially when capital can pivot toward financing post-war reconstruction.
In this way, the crisis of overpopulation and the crisis of capital’s limits might be “resolved” simultaneously through new patterns of creative destruction. Marx warned that in its terminal phases, capitalism would turn destructively against the very institutions and markets it once created. Trump’s autodestructive trade wars exemplify this accelerating spiral of decay. In a planet with limited resources, constant economic growth is a suicidal path that will ultimately cannibalize its foundations.
With European rearmament underway, the emerging European military-industrial complex offers a new avenue for global capital accumulation. Even if a major war explodes, its devastation will offer the chance to renew capital circulation—and this grim reality makes Fredric Jameson’s famous observation painfully true: “It is easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism.” This is a possible scenario, concerning the apocalyptic political climate fostered by Trump’s fascistic, messianic, Christian-evangelical, and Zionist allies, who seem to be preparing the ground for an end-times scenario. While the German public stands idly by, the conditions for a major war are becoming increasingly ripe. With a man as openly fascist as Donald Trump at the head of a declining militaristic empire, a major war seems only a matter of time.
Against the backdrop of genocidal violence, dispossession, and unbridled imperialism, German environmentalism fails to recognize this existential challenge, risking remaining trapped in its own comfort bubble—depoliticized, unaware, and engaged with the forces that continue to destroy the planet’s ecological fabric, unwilling to confront this reality.
Let’s see if they will finally awaken from their deep slumber—if not when their welfare is endangered, then at least when their very lives are threatened by the breathtaking ruthlessness of Europe’s kakistocracy. The Northern environmental movements must unite as a pacifist force and mobilise against this path of global ruin. Otherwise, no planet, people, or environment will be left to defend. The struggle for Palestinian liberation, far from being peripheral, should matter to anyone who retains even a basic sense of humanity, as an entire people is crushed before the eyes of the world. If this machine intends to devour us all, let there be at least some resistance. Let us be those stones to stop the wheels of this horrendous life-eating war machine.
Eye witness report and photo gallery
Sunday 1st June saw another Nazi march in Berlin. This was one organised by “Deutsche Jugend Voran” (German Youth Forward). This follows other marches and increasing violent attacks in the capital in recent months. The Nazi boats are rising with the tide as Germany’s mainstream politicians turn to the right, legitimising racism and nationalism and as excessive policing methods are used on protesters.
A counter protest to the fascist march was organised by left groups and antifascists.
Only about 50 Nazis marched but most were very young – even of school age.
Anti-fascists assembled in Rosa Luxemburg Platz and grew in numbers to around 800. They blockaded the Nazis demo as it approached MemhardStrasse. The fascists were only able to march along the wide main road of Karl-Marx Allee and failed to enter the residential areas and proceed to Nordbanhof. Protesters harassed them along the entire route.
They were eventually forced by the police into a corner near Alexanderplatz U bahn station. Several arrests were made here of both anti-fascists and right wingers.
Despite the relatively small size of the demonstration there is no room for complacency. The extreme youth of this group should act as a warning to anti-fascists. It is imperative that the left should offer alternatives to disillusioned young people.
Several bore right wing markings including the 444 tattoo. This is a Nazi sign for the fourth letter of the alphabet. DDD standing for Deutschland den Deutschen, Germany for the Germans.
The DJV are one of the new youth groups emerging. Described by Linke Party councillor Niklas Schrader as “drinking and Hitlering”, violence is part of their approach.
These new groups have increasingly taken part in attacking Pride parades. Nazis affiliated with the DJV were also arrested attempting to approach the Revolutionary May Day demonstration. They demonstrated in Berlin-Marzahn on October 19, 2024.
On the fight against antisemitism, definitional power, and the political instrumentalization of academic debate
Jakub Simon
02/06/2025
On May 9 and 10, Die Linke held its federal party convention in Chemnitz, where one resolution garnered special interest: a motion to adopt a definition for the term “antisemitism.” Titled ”Fight Antisemitism, Repression and Censorship―Adopt the Jerusalem Declaration, create a tenable foundation,” the resolution aligned the party with the Jerusalem Declaration on Antisemitism (JDA) and distanced it from the Working Definition of Antisemitism by the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA), prevalent in German discourse. So what about it? What is the rationale of the resolution, what criticism has been brought forward, and how can the discussion be situated within the German scientific discourse and political reality?
Accusations of antisemitism have been gaining ground in Germany. The government is firm in its commitment to the illustrious raison d’état (Staatsräson) and continues to provide arms to Israel, deeming accusations of genocide unwarranted while employing the IHRA definition to decry demands for sanctions and boycotts as antisemitic. If they have not already censored themselves, those who take to the streets in light of the horrors in Gaza, academics who express solidarity with protesting students, or public figures in media and culture are all also accused of antisemitism. The crux of these accusations is the assumption that what is being voiced is criticism not of Israel, but of Jews as a people. The accusers claim that hatred of Israel is hatred of Jews, and that ultimately it is all plain antisemitism. The terms seem freely interchangeable with no delineation between them.
This is due to the prevalent definition of antisemitism in Germany, supported by government officials and agencies, and endorsed by stakeholders such as the Zentralrat der Juden in Deutschland (Central Council of Jews in Germany). The IHRA definition does not concern itself with a clear distinction between criticism of Israel and antisemitism; where it offers distinctions, they are generally restrictive. Die Linke’s new resolution seeks to remedy these shortcomings. It is intended to provide a basis for the identification of antisemitism while maintaining the possibility of legitimate criticisms of the state of Israel, responding to the climate of repression and (self-)censorship without giving up on a resolute fight against antisemitism. For this purpose, Die Linke chose the Jerusalem Declaration, one of the most widely used academic definitions, against the more institutional IHRA definition.
Definitional projects
The Jerusalem Declaration on Antisemitism was developed in direct dialogue and response to the IHRA Working Definition and its institutional importance. The latter was designed with the aim of broadening the perspective beyond the scope of the classical antisemitism of the 1800s and the cultural racism of the post-World War II era. It focuses explicitly on including new or Israel-related antisemitism, accounting for political actors beyond the right, especially with regard to the Israel/Palestine conflict. The political conditions which brought about the IHRA definition were heavily influenced by this context, and the definition zeroed in on the positions surrounding the conflict.
In Germany, the adoption of the IHRA definition converged with a discourse that prioritized “structural” antisemitism, or the “left” antisemitism found in globalization criticism. One of the excesses of this definitional shift is the idea of “imported antisemitism,” which both hides the historical crimes of the German right and provides fuel for their neo-fascist rhetoric machine. The IHRA’s insufficiently distinct wording has produced a conflation of criticisms of the state of Israel, criticisms of Zionism as a project, and antisemitism: “Antisemitism is a certain perception of Jews, which may be expressed as hatred toward Jews. Rhetorical and physical manifestations of antisemitism are directed toward Jewish or non-Jewish individuals and/or their property, toward Jewish community institutions and religious facilities.”
Foremost, one addition which the German government itself has inserted reinforces this tendency: “Furthermore, the state of Israel, which is understood as a Jewish collective, can also be the target of such attacks.” While not part of the official IHRA phrasing, this addition spells out how the IHRA definition can be used to blur the lines between the state of Israel and Judaism. All the more because of the omission of a subsequent suggested additional passage stating that “criticism of Israel similar to that leveled against any other country cannot be regarded as antisemitic.”
By contrast, the wording of the JDA―“Antisemitism is discrimination, prejudice, hostility or violence against Jews as Jews (or Jewish institutions as Jewish)”―aims to rectify these ambiguities. The definition is accompanied by a list of 15 Guidelines, divided into “General,” “Israel and Palestine: examples that, on the face of it, are antisemitic,” and “Israel and Palestine: examples that, on the face of it, are not antisemitic.” The guidelines are intended to clarify the definition and act as helpful tools for its application. In its Preamble, the initial signatories, among them known professors and experts such as Omri Boehm, Eva Illouz, Uffa Jensen, Peter Ullrich, Moshe Zimmermann, or Susan Neiman, explicitly criticize the ambiguities, incoherencies, and controversies produced by the IHRA definition, which hinder the fight against antisemitism. The JDA definition was devised in a process spanning more than a year, aiming to find a balance between academic precision and political intervention, rather than pitting them against each other.
It has become clear that the development process of both definitions was contingent upon their political conditions and that both definitions have an explicitly political dimension. Amos Goldberg, one of the initial signatories of the JDA, has pointedly called the IHRA definition Israel’s “diplomatic Iron Dome,” an instrument of defense for Israel’s political interests. The focus on “left” antisemitism, in conjunction with the partial silencing of criticism of the state of Israel and political Zionism, has been a crucial part of the academic debate surrounding these definitional projects. At the same time, both definitions have been subject to criticisms that the focus on the conflict in the Middle East threatens to lose sight of right-wing antisemitism. These frictions and ambiguities have become more and more clear to the public’s eye ever since the genocide against the Palestinians in Gaza started.
A resolution against German discourse
Die Linke’s resolution to adopt the JDA definition has been the latest instance where this debate has found public attention. Statements by the Zentralrat der Juden in Deutschland, the WerteInitiative, or the Jüdische Forum für Demokratie und gegen Antisemitismus (The Jewish Forum for Democracy and against Antisemitism) have had a significant media impact. Apart from a few positive reactions, the direction has been clear: Die Linke has forsaken the fight against antisemitism, will give hatred of Israel free rein, and has turned its back on the Jews (who, as far as one could tell by the statements, are monolithic in their support of the IHRA definition). This monolithic picture does not hold water, however. In an interview with nd, historian Amos Goldberg said:
“Mr. Schuster [Chairman of the Zentralrat der Juden in Deutschland] and the German political discourse apparently differentiate between ‘good Jews,’ such as Mr. Schuster, and ‘bad Jews,’ such as me―that is, between legitimate expressions of Jewishness and wrongful, illegitimate expressions. I can, however, tell you as a Jew and Israeli―a country in which I have lived all my life―that I find my Jewish identity to be reflected in the values of the Jerusalem Declaration and that I am not alone in this.”
And alone, indeed, he is not. Alongside renowned academics, among them Jews and Israelis, there have also been Jewish organizations, such as the Jewish Voice for Just Peace in the Middle East, which have welcomed the resolution. Die Linke’s decision has also been encouraged by Hadash, the left-wing electoral alliance in Israel, which invited the European Left to follow its example. Those very same organizations that appear to manufacture a monolithic Jewish community in Germany have not shied away from accusing Jews and Israelis of antisemitism, concealing the reality of a plurality of opinions within the Jewish community. The primary goal of the recent criticisms appears to be, in keeping with the history of the IHRA definition, supporting the politics of the state of Israel and its German raison d’état counterpart, rather than an honest attempt to act as a representative of Jewish people and their positions. It can then not elicit much surprise to witness the continuing volatile, ambiguous and interchangeable use of “Israel-hater” and “antisemite” when criticism of Die Linke is made.
To put it plainly: The party’s resolution adopting the JDA is not levelled against Jews, in Germany or anywhere else. Rather, one of its core desires is to protect the Jewish community, not least from the danger of being held responsible (explicitly or implicitly) for the war crimes committed by the state of Israel, a danger posed by the vanishing distinction between Judaism and the state of Israel in public discourse. The resolution is levelled against the established direction of German politics. It is an explicit response to the antisemitism resolutions adopted by the Bundestag (the federal parliament): “Nie wieder ist jetzt―Jüdisches Leben in Deutschland schützen, bewahren und stärken” (“Never again―Protect, preserve and strengthen Jewish life in Germany”) and “Antisemitismus und Israelfeindlichkeit an Schulen und Hochschulen” (“Antisemitism and hatred of Israel in schools and universities”).
Those resolutions can be seen as one of the multiple signs of an ongoing advance of authoritarian and anti-migrant rhetoric in Germany, covered and justified by rampant accusations of antisemitism. While the resolutions aim at restricting freedom of expression in art and academia and explicitly target calls for sanctions or boycott, the Ministry of the Interior adopts the rhetoric of “Israel-hater” and “imported antisemitism” when presenting figures on political violence. Using this pretext, politicians then call for harsher sentences against and more deportations of migrants and inconvenient activists, such as the Berlin4. Thus, the vague handling of the term antisemitism facilitated by the adoption of the IHRA definition becomes a gateway for increasing authoritarian tendencies in social discourse right up to government circles. Combating this direction of discourse and active state intervention, as well as combating arbitrary detainment, bans on assembly, and censorship and self-censorship, requires the establishment of the JDA.
There have also been voices within the party who are critical of the resolution. One argument, made by chairman Jan van Aken in the preceding debate and, in a less eloquent way, by Bodo Ramelow, claims that the party congress must not dismiss academic discourse. This is a position that may have worth if it were made in a context where academic debates are decoupled from reality. But, even if this were the case, one would need to be consistent: If adoption of the JDA should be rejected due to the ongoing debate in antisemitism studies, so would the adoption of the IHRA definition that has crept into public discourse and even government bodies.
This, however, has not been the reality in Germany. Those who now fear a premature dismissal of academic debate failed to campaign against the IHRA definition while it was established by the German state and by various political parties and organizations. The argument is also indefensible in light of the political circumstances. Terror attacks such as the one in Halle in 2019 have shown that there is a grave danger of antisemitism in Germany. And that, in order to fight this danger, one requires a means to identify antisemitism. There simply is an irrefutable need for a definition of antisemitism for political praxis. This is why the resolution does not just refute the IHRA definition, but constructively supplants it with the JDA.
Die Linke as vanguard?
In the end, the question remains why such flimsy excuses of an argument can reach the highest echelons of the party and take root there. Other motives might be at play in rejecting the resolution. Die Linke has placed itself into the vanguard by establishing the JDA as a means to identify antisemitism. A considerable feat in a country where, after 19 months of bombardments and intentional starvation of the civilian population, weapons are still supplied to the perpetrator. Die Linke has renounced some of the established pathways of German politics. Finally, some might say. This is true, but it also means that the party is fortifying its place in the opposition, something that does not necessarily accord with the career management of some politicians.
The resolution signifies progress in German discourse. Or, at least, within Die Linke. Still, it is just the start, an attempt to create and defend spaces that are uncompromising in their commitment to humanity. Spaces for the protection of all people, no matter if Jews, Palestinians, or citizens critical of their government in Germany. The path to material improvements for the people in Gaza, however, appears to be long and winding. There is much left to do to change the German course of complicity and to counteract authoritarian tendencies. This path needs people who become active according to their ability, who take to the streets or take positions in political and social debates, always with a sensibility for a productive and non-instrumentalized use of the term antisemitism.
How the Technical University Berlin abandoned academic freedom for political obedience
The destruction of Gaza’s education system is not collateral damage—it is intentional. It is systematic. And the Technical University of Berlin (TU Berlin), despite its claims of neutrality and academic freedom, has chosen silence over solidarity, complicity over conscience, and political obedience over even the most minimal moral and ethical duty.
Over six months ago, we submitted a detailed report to TU Berlin’s leadership. It documented how the university is deeply complicit in the Genocide unfolding in Palestine, be it indirectly through continuing its cooperation with institutions involved in the Israeli military apparatus, or directly by allowing exchange programs to illegally stolen land. We demanded an investigation based on the evidence we provided, and to cut ties, as it has done with Russia, when our findings were confirmed. Not only did the university refuse to act, it refused even to look.
As part of our demands that were sent along with that report, we urged administration to take a basic moral stance and publicly condemn the complete destruction of Gaza’s education system. Every single university has been bombed. Over 95% of schools were damaged. Over 720,000 students had their education completely interrupted. According to the Palestinian Ministry of Education, 13,419 students and 651 educators have been killed and 21,653 injured in what can only be described as a systematic campaign to destroy the very possibility of knowledge in Gaza. We called this what it is: scholasticide—the deliberate erasure of a people’s right to learn, teach, and exist.
In response, TU Berlin spoke proudly of its commitment to anti-discrimination, academic freedom, and historical role as a university that fights injustice. They write of awareness teams, consultation offices, and the importance of peaceful protest all while refusing to name the people whose lives were erased.
Not once did it acknowledge even a single murdered Palestinian student or scholar. Not Nada Al-Hasayna, the pharmacy student who carried her name tag every day so her body could be identified if she was killed. Not Sha’ban al-Dalou, a 19-year-old software engineering student at Al-Azhar University, who was burned alive while still attached to an IV alongside his mother. Not Professor Dr. Sufyan Tayeh, president of the Islamic University of Gaza and one of the world’s top scientists, killed with his family. Not Professor Refaat Al-Areer, poet and literature lecturer, who wrote “If I Must Die” before being bombed to death with his brother and sister alongside four of her children.
And yet, in every public statement made by TU Berlin and the Center for Research on Antisemitism (ZfA), one thing remains consistent: they carefully avoid using the word Palestinian. Not once do they acknowledge the people being killed, displaced, starved, and erased. They speak of “violence,” of “conflict,” of “victims” in vague terms—but never name those who are suffering most. They have expressed solidarity with Israeli academics, reaffirmed partnerships with Israeli institutions, and condemned attacks against Israel. But they have never condemned the killing of Palestinian scholars, or the destruction of every single university in Gaza. They have never shown even the most basic empathy for Palestinian life—they have never even once used the word Palestine or Palestinian.
This silence is not neutrality, it is complicity, it is political obedience.
It is even more appalling when viewed in the context of Israeli academia’s open incitement to hate. We can name the Tel Aviv University professor Uzy Raby who said on a radio interview: “Anyone who stays [in northern Gaza] will be judged… as a terrorist and will go through either a process of starvation or a process of extermination”. Another lecturer at the same university, Dr. Harel Chorev, declared that he would “sign with both hands” a military plan that called for the forced removal of civilians from Gaza. And at the Institute for National Security Studies, a think tank affiliated with Tel Aviv University, researchers openly proposed turning Gaza into a “modernized” area emptied of Palestinians through “voluntary emigration,” enforced by “sustained military pressure”, a thinly veiled ethnic cleansing proposal.
The few who dissent, mostly Palestinians, face severe repression. Professor Nadera Shalhoub-Kevorkian, a prominent Palestinian scholar at Hebrew University, was suspended, publicly denounced by her institution, and later arrested for calling for a ceasefire and criticizing Zionism. Over 160 Palestinian students in Israeli universities have faced disciplinary measures for minor expressions of grief or solidarity. Some have had their home addresses and photos circulated online. Others were expelled. Threatened. Silenced. And while those who advocate justice are punished, those who advocate atrocity are platformed, funded, and celebrated.
In the midst of this, TU Berlin dares to speak of “academic freedom.” But what we are witnessing is its complete collapse. Academic freedom does not mean cooperating with warmongers. It does not mean partnering with institutions that help build drone systems used to flatten homes, or produce white papers about ethnic cleansing. It does not mean turning away while your academic counterparts are starved, bombed, and executed. Academic freedom means having the right to say: we refuse.
We refuse to be complicit.
We refuse to normalize genocide.
We refuse to treat apartheid as just another academic perspective.
If Israeli Academia insists on staying corrupted to its core, then in the name of academic freedom, TU Berlin has the duty to cut ties. Its refusal is not grounded in academic principles, its loyalty is not to truth, not to justice and not its stated mission, but to fear. Germany’s history is invoked to silence critics, but the real lesson of that history, of where blind obedience to power leads, is ignored.
TU Berlin once served a fascist state. Today, it serves a state taking part in a genocide.One might think an institution that once served under and supported a fascist state would understand the dangers of “just following orders”. But instead, the TU Berlin Kanzler, a sitting SPD politician, proudly oversees this cowardice. Unwilling to challenge the political tide, unwilling to take a stance, unwilling to say, ‘‘enough.’’