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Can solidarity go beyond the color line?

Building solidarity in Germany in times of genocide


22/06/2025

During my time working at a company in Hamburg, I experienced an unsettling encounter that revealed deeper tensions beneath Germany’s polished surface of political correctness.

One morning, as I ate a croissant and drank coffee at my desk—an ordinary practice among colleagues—a colleague confronted me. Her initial critique of me having breakfast in the office might have been reasonable, but she soon curdled into something darker.

With palpable condescension, she declared: “Different countries have different norms. Some behaviors might be acceptable in China” (I am not from China, of course) —a revealing assumption.

Before I could respond, her tone shifted, laced with something darker:

“What you’re doing is extremely rude. You might not understand, and I am not even sure where you have gotten your education, but I do—as I was highly educated in Europe. My grandmother was educated with the Hitler’s  family.”

The casual invocation of that name stunned me. At this point, I almost shouted at her:

“Hey, If my breakfast disturbed you, you could have simply asked me to move. Instead, you’ve chosen to assert your supposed superiority based on your family’s ties to Nazis. Are you serious?”

Silence hung in the air, and she said. “Get out of this room!”

The Paradox of German “Tolerance”

Having lived in the U.S. and Germany, I’ve faced racism in many forms, from micro aggressions to outright hostility. The true significance of this incident lay not in the individual’s racist remark, but in the system’s reaction.

When I reported the incident, my supervisor’s response arrived as a sterile rebuke: “I heard the incident. Such language that she made is not permitted in Germany.”  Not solidarity. Just policy enforcement—as if racism could be reduced to a terms-of-service violation.

Then came a colleague’s well-meaning but revealing attempt at comfort: “I’m sorry this happened to you—it’s so strange. Racism doesn’t exist in West Germany.” This was more than personal naivety; it unmasked an institutionalised delusion that prioritises bureaucratic distinctions over people’s actual experiences.

That encounter has stayed with me as emblematic of my early experiences in Germany: a society where history looms large yet remains clinically detached. One where people obsess over saying the correct thing but seldom interrogate why those words carry weight.

It forced me to reconsider some linguistic prohibitions: 

Do they truly provoke deeper reflection on meaning and context, or do they paralyze thought altogether? Are people avoiding certain words not out of understanding, but out of programmed obedience?

I write these words from Berlin, twenty months after the genocide in Gaza began—a genocide that has played out in real time, streamed live to the world, documented by both its perpetrators and its victims. The evidence is undeniable: every moment, every atrocity, digitally recorded. Every report from human rights organizations affirms what we already know—this is a genocide, declared as such in plain sight.

And yet, as this horror unfolds before the eyes of the world, we were forced to confront another grotesque reality: the staggering hypocrisy of Western governments and media. The German state and its press are in the forefront..

What proved most disquieting was the cognitive dissonance of some of the German Liberals.  They master the language of social justice while rationalizing Zionist colonialism. Their discourse, though polished, betrays a fundamental evasion. They champion solidarity in theory, yet refuse to practice it by reflecting the time and space they live in.

The Colonial Core of Zionism

Zionism, in practice, constitutes a settler-colonial enterprise. Its foundations were laid through the systematic dispossession of Palestinians, the expropriation of their lands, and the institutionalization of apartheid. The purported theological justification – this notion of ‘God gave us this land’ – is nothing but cynical artifice, a thin scriptural veneer over what is ultimately a project of territorial conquest.

The persistent framing of this occupation as a ‘multi faceted geopolitical issue’ speaks not to its actual nuance, but to Western complicity in maintaining structures of illegal occupation. What unfolds is not some unprecedented diplomatic quandary, but rather the oldest colonial narrative rewritten with contemporary military might. Germany, with its intimate familiarity with both colonial violence and genocide, requires no interpreter to comprehend this language of displacement and erasure.

Those who profess progressive ideals while accommodating this particular oppression participate in a profound moral contradiction. Authentic solidarity demands unflinching clarity – the courage to name oppression as oppression. Even when that recognition implicates our own historical narratives and present complicities.

For many Europeans, colonialism remains a comfortably distant sin, a historical wrong committed elsewhere, by some others. This delusion is precisely the problem. Colonialism was never merely a policy, it is a mindset. It begins with dehumanization,reducing people to obstacles.

Rewinding History: Europe’s Debt, Palestine’s Price

Oppression does not vanish; it merely relocates.The core issue persists today, regardless of what euphemisms we use to disguise it. Those who fancy themselves progressive must face an uncomfortable mirror: The same ideologies that fueled colonialism abroad mutate into fascism at home.

Let us confront the past with unflinching clarity. For centuries, Europeans – Germans most particularly and viciously – persecuted Jewish people, culminating in the industrialized horror of the Holocaust. Yet when Jewish survivors, shattered and stateless, sought refuge, Western nations, fully aware of the atrocities – shut their doors. Palestine was thus imposed as the “solution,” perpetuating a cruel irony.

What haunts Germany’s conscience is the unasked question. Namely, if its reckoning were genuine, why does Germany not pay off its own crime by offering its own land?

This is not atonement, but alchemy – transmuting German accountability into Palestinian subjugation. True repentance would mean bearing history’s weight directly, not displacing its violence onto other oppressed people.

The Hierarchy of Memories

Germany’s remembrance of different genocides is selective.The Holocaust’s Jewish victims occupy the center of German remembrance; the Roma, Sinti, disabled, and queer victims are footnotes. The genocide of the Nama and Herero in Namibia is treated as a historical curiosity. In Germany, public memory remains narrowly curated—other genocides fade into silence.

By enshrining the memory of one genocide while consigning others to oblivion, I cannot help but ask; does Germany truly reckon with its past for its action regardless of victims—or merely instrumentalize it? And what is this selective solidarity, if not racism rebranded as moral duty?

Today

Today, Gaza burns,its annihilation broadcast live to a watching world. Germany, whose factories once mass-produced genocide, now bankrolls its reproduction.

We can confront this together. Political consciousness is not a destination but a journey,one that demands we walk with open hands, ready to both release old certainties and grasp new understanding.

Our principles,no matter how passionately held, are not immune to the contradictions of state education and cultural conditioning.

The work of solidarity requires constant interrogation: Are my beliefs coherent, or have I internalized curated ideologies? Does my opposition to oppression extend universally, can a conscience be curated? Or does resistance stop where power begins?

Remember this. Eighty winters ago, Nazi Germany was crushed by Allied armies, not by German people’s resistance. Without their military loss, the regime could have endured indefinitely, sustained by public silence.

This very historical fact screams across the decades: violence unchecked becomes legacy. Complicity wears many masks—silence, equivocation, selective outrage—but its harvest is always the same. So I ask you today: Can your solidarity transcend the color line in the face of this genocide?

Tracking the machinery of silencing

Inside the ELSC’s Index of Repression. Part 1


21/06/2025

In Germany, repression of Palestine solidarity doesn’t just wear riot gear. It comes in press briefings and policy memos, in visa denials and cancellations, in shifting legal justifications that twist basic rights into instruments of exclusion. A protest chant becomes evidence of extremism. A campus lecture is ruled “too political.” Decades-old slogans are reclassified overnight as support for terrorism. It’s not incidental. It’s systemic and a multi-layered effort to stigmatise, intimidate, and isolate those who speak out for Palestinian rights.

Part of an ongoing colonial pattern, this climate didn’t appear overnight. The European Legal Support Center (ELSC) was founded in 2019 to initially track how Palestinian civil society organisations in Palestine were being targeted by European governments. But as the same strategies of repression began to take root in Europe, and particularly in Germany, the ELSC broadened its focus to include the growing crackdown on anyone speaking out for Palestinian rights.

Revealing the institutionalised criminalisation of Palestinian solidarity, the ELSC’s Index of Repression in Germany currently documents more than seven hundred incidents affecting thousands of people, across multiple categories. 

We spoke to Layla Kattermann and Sophia Hoffinger of the ELSC about how the index came to be, how repression in Germany has intensified since October 7, and why tracing both the incidents and the shifting legal framings is key to understanding how silencing becomes socially and institutionally normalised.

Hi, please can you introduce yourselves and what your roles are in producing the Index?

Layla: My name is Layla Kattermann, and I’m the Monitor Project Manager at the ELSC. I’ve been managing this project for a couple of years now. In the beginning, it was just me, but now we have a full team of monitor officers and data researchers in several countries.

Sophia: I’m Sophia Hoffinger. I joined the ELSC this year as the Germany Monitor Officer, working with the monitor and research department. I’ve been involved in data verification and writing summaries of some of the selected incidents you see on the platform.

You’ve been tracking repression since 2019. How did the ELSC’s monitoring work develop into what is now the Index of Repression?

Layla: Since the establishment of the ELSC in 2019, we were very aware of the need for this kind of research, especially in light of the attacks that Palestinian civil society organisations in Palestine were facing from Europe. So initially, we were tracking the oppression they’re facing before expanding the research to also include the repression of people who speak out for Palestine across Europe. 

At first, we had a strong legal focus. We looked at how the law is used, how it’s interpreted, and how it’s developed to violate fundamental rights when it comes to Palestine. But a couple of years ago, we started to include forms of repression that don’t make it to the courtroom and that don’t cite any law or policy. So now we focus more on the impact of smear campaigns, and many other forms of repression that lead to mental distress, financial and professional pressure, and ultimately, self-censorship. And of course, we also try to track who’s behind the repression.

Did you see a shift in how repression presents itself in Germany after October 7?

Layla: In terms of mechanisms of repression, no. The mechanisms existed well before October 7, but because the movement has grown, what changed was the scale and the visibility. On the legal level new policies were introduced and existing ones were reshaped or reinterpreted, but we didn’t have to invent new categories or allegations.

Sophia: Yeah, maybe to just give some examples, after October 7, we saw a lot of emphasis on different kinds of parliamentary resolutions encouraging the state to use all mechanisms of migration law and criminal law to persecute people in the name of fighting antisemitism. 

Layla: What we’re seeing now is unprecedented in terms of scale and visibility, but it’s a continuation of trends that began years ago, just like the implementation of the IHRA definition, anti-BDS motions, and the criminalisation of political slogans. Take “From the river to the sea”: people were charged for it before October 7 under allegations of antisemitism or incitement to hatred. Now it’s being treated as a symbol of a banned organisation. So the repression isn’t new, it’s that the legal justifications are shifting. There have been constant developments just to keep violating fundamental rights.

Sophia: Right, and those shifts in framing are important to track. In 2019, BDS was criticised for supposedly echoing the fascist-era boycott against Jewish citizens. After October 7, it started being described as a form of secular Palestinian extremism, which is something very different. And just recently, it was labelled “anti-constitutional” by the domestic intelligence agency. So we ask, where did this allegation start? Why did it change?

Has there been any public or institutional pushback on this constant reinvention and reframing?

Layla: There have been some. For example, last summer, when the German domestic intelligence agency, the Verfassungsschutz, designated BDS a suspected case of extremism, the UN Special Rapporteur on counterterrorism and human rights wrote to the German government, asking them to justify why, but the concerns weren’t directly addressed. So yes, there has been pushback, but it hasn’t been widely picked up yet. I think it’s also becoming normalised how repressive Germany is, which is a problem. Activists in Germany accept a lot more forms of repression that shouldn’t be accepted. So much so, we’re seeing people in other countries say “Well, it’s not as bad as Germany yet.” 

In what other ways have you seen repression becoming normalised?

Layla: A good example is the Berlin Four, the EU and US citizens who faced deportation. In the end, they won their cases and weren’t deported, but the fear had already been instilled. That’s the point: you don’t have to deport everyone. Just one or two public cases are enough to send a message, especially to people without European citizenship.

You can also see the effect when you look at how the size of demonstrations has changed over the past year. The mechanisms of fear have worked. And it’s not just about threats, it’s also the legal ambiguity. People don’t know what they’re allowed to say or do around Palestine anymore. That uncertainty is part of the repression strategy. Even when courts rule in someone’s favour, like in the Berlin Four case, the damage is already done.

Sophia: Yes, and I think the Berlin Four case is also a good example of how what’s considered “shocking” is changing. One potential effect of a case like this is that it contributes to normalizing the deportation of people who aren’t EU or US citizens. People were shocked that EU or US citizens might be deported but there’s much less outrage about, say, the deportation of Gazans to Greece. That kind of selective response risks legitimizing racialised state violence. And that’s really the danger with how this repression expands, it changes what gets seen as normal, and what gets quietly accepted.

Some people also reacted as if Germany is simply adopting US-style repression. But that’s misleading, repression in Germany has its own logic. The state normalizes it by invoking mantras like “reason of state,” and that framing lets almost anything become acceptable. 

But I don’t think we should assume people are just passively accepting this repression. Many aren’t. People are resisting. They’re refusing to be intimidated and that’s important to say too.

Are certain types of repression harder to document than others?

Layla: Yes. What’s especially difficult to document and verify is repression that happens inside institutions or companies, what we call internal sanctions in the workplace. These usually don’t rely on the classic allegations like antisemitism or support for terrorism. Instead, they use more subtle justifications, like saying an event about Palestine is “too political” for the institution, even if it’s taking place on a political science campus, or claiming it’s not “neutral” enough to be allowed.

To prove discrimination, we’d have to show that these house rules are applied inconsistently. For example, discussions on Russia and Ukraine are allowed without similar scrutiny but we don’t systematically monitor other events, and that kind of comparative tracking is often outside the scope of our research. So it becomes much harder to verify that the event was shut down because of its focus on Palestine.

In the Index, you describe how state and non-state actors align organically to suppress dissent. Can you give examples of how that plays out in practice?

Layla: Yeah, I think the most visible example is the media. They often do the initial stage work for something to be criminalized. So you will rarely see anyone being criminalized, or any group being banned, or any demonstration being banned without the work of the media weeks ahead, setting the narrative and manufacturing the consent for the acceptance of that ban and repression that will then come at a later stage.

The media sets up the public to accept what comes next. You also see it in event cancellations. A pro-Israel organization might send a letter to a university that’s already approved an event, and then suddenly the university retracts its decision and cancels it. In that moment, the institution becomes an enabling actor in the repression.

Sophia: One really strong example is with larger events like The Palestine Congress. There were smear campaigns ahead of the event targeting both speakers and organizers, which led to some of the organizers having their bank accounts shut down. So basically, private banks followed media pressure, which then escalated to police presence on the ground.

At the same time, there were restrictions on freedom of movement. Some participants received Schengen-wide visa bans, like Dr. Ghassan Abu-Sittah, who only became aware of it when he tried to enter France. And then the venue itself pulled back. Before the event began, they suddenly raised safety concerns and reduced the allowed capacity. So all these kinds of things come together, and that’s what we mean when we say they work organically, because they all coincide in these ways. 

So it’s like a domino effect? Where actions from one sector, like the media or a university, trigger others to respond with their own forms of repression?

Layla: It’s something we try to find evidence for but it’s really hard. And it actually connects to your earlier question about what kinds of repression are hardest to document. We know there are internal letters being sent but we often don’t know by whom, or when, or why they’re being used at that moment.

So we’ll have a case where an institution expels someone or launches an investigation, but we don’t get access to the original letter that triggered it. Where it’s more obvious is in immigration office interviews, especially for people without German citizenship. They’re often asked directly about their political contacts or whether they attended specific demonstrations. That means someone is providing information ahead of time, before a visa renewal appointment.

So we have a lot of hints that there are letters and information being collected about individuals and then sent to their workplace. But it’s difficult for us to document where they come from exactly and who is behind it.

Sophia: But sometimes it is clearer. For example, there are documented cases where events were cancelled after pressure from local antisemitism commissioners. One well-known case is when Achille Mbembe was disinvited from speaking at the Ruhrtriennale.

First, a very well-known conservative blog called Ruhrbarone published allegations about him. Then a local FDP politician, Lorenz Deutsch, who was also the regional antisemitism commissioner — picked it up and started putting pressure on the organizers. After that, Felix Klein, the federal antisemitism commissioner, joined in. And of course, the media amplified it.

You can also see this on a legal level. For example, pro-Israel think tanks like the Tikvah Institute organized an event series last year on expanding criminal law to counter antisemitism. They specifically invited members of the Berlin police and state prosecution office. So sometimes you can trace this coordination very clearly, not just informally but institutionally.

Layla: Another example is the ongoing exclusion of the Nakba exhibition from the evangelical Kirchentag program. It had been included every year since around 2008. But then in 2013, the German-Israeli Society published a brochure claiming that speaking about the Nakba is antisemitic, among other things. Years later, you see the antisemitism commissioner targeting the exact same exhibition, using very similar language, sometimes even the exact same sentences from that brochure. It’s not always explicitly cited, but you can tell where it’s coming from.

Sophia: And that’s what we’re trying to show through the Index of Repression. We have many individual incidents, but for some we go deeper and we feature them to show how different layers of repression unfold: who said what, when it was picked up, how it escalated, and what consequences followed.

Part two of this article will be published on theleftberlin.com soon

CFM strikers show how to fight and win

Strikers say that Participation and Solidarity were Key to Union Victory


Striking workers at the Charité hospital have won an important victory. After three months of strikes, their employer has agreed to hefty wage increases. Pay will be raised in stages, to reach 100% of the general public sector scale by 2030.

The workers involved are ancillaries at the Charité teaching hospital’s three main sites in Berlin—the Charité itself in Mitte, the Virchow Hospital in Wedding, and Campus Benjamin Franklin Steglitz. Essentially, the ancillaries do all the non-medical work required to keep the hospital running: cleaning, kitchens, security, transport, technical services, stock-keeping, sterilisation, and administration. Although essential to the hospital’s functioning, their jobs were outsourced in 2005 to a subsidiary, Charité Facility Management (CFM). Their pay and conditions are considerably worse than those of their colleagues employed directly by the Charité, who fall under the general public service pay agreement (Tarifvertrag öffentlicher Dienst, or TVÖD). According to the union Verdi, the pay gap is up to €700 per month.

One factor that brought the dispute to a head this year was the inflation shock of 2022–23, which cast a stark light on the pay shortfall. Another was Berlin Mayor Kai Wegner’s broken promise. After a determined political and media campaign by union activists, Wegner committed to reversing outsourcing. He has the power to do so, as the city owns the hospital. But during his first two years in office, he did nothing.

CFM employs 3,500 workers. Of those, 3,200 were affected by the dispute (300 were already paid according to TVÖD for various reasons). About half the workers at CFM are members of Verdi. After a series of shorter stoppages in March, an indefinite strike began in early April. It was to continue for eight weeks.

The number of individuals on strike at any one time was seven or eight hundred. That is one very notable thing about this dispute. It was conducted successfully by a (large) minority of the workforce. As it turned out, having a quarter of the workforce on strike was enough to disrupt normal operations. Operations had to be cancelled due to inadequate cleaning or a lack of sterilised instruments. Additionally, other staff, particularly nurses, were not happy to be made to clean wards and transport patients.

So, what were the keys to success? I spoke with works council member Sascha Kraft, who has been building the union Verdi at CFM since 2008. Preparation was crucial. Union activists have been building for this for years, gathering strength through a series of smaller disputes over pay and conditions. In the nine months leading up to the big strike, Verdi recruited 900 new members, bringing the total to 1,500. The strike began with a 99.3% vote to walk out.

As he told me, active participation was central. Striking workers manned the picket lines, and there were regular strike demonstrations, for example, to rally outside the offices of the responsible city officials or the Charité’s executive board.

The strikers were fully involved in decision-making. Many matters were voted on at mass meetings, especially when it needed to be fast. There was also a system of sector reps to make decisions on a broader basis and ensure that information flowed in both directions. And the negotiating committee itself was composed of active striking workers.

Unity was essential, of course. Sascha mentioned that the strike involved workers from eighty different nations. Verdi activist Agnieszka spoke to a conference of strike supporters about her experience building for the strike: ‘I found that we are all the same really, that we often have the same troubles, the same dreams. No matter what country we come from, what languages we speak, what colour our skin is, or what god we believe in.’

Solidarity was necessary, too. Under the specific circumstances, picketing other workers out at the hospital was not on the cards. However, Sascha mentioned that it would have been nice if Verdi had called a couple of hundred nurses out in solidarity—the nurses were being pressured to do cleaning and transport work. In effect, CFM staff who chose not to join the strike were left in peace. Some were persuaded to join as the strike continued.

Fellow workers within the Charité hospitals did provide support and donations, however. Staff at the Vivantes hospitals in Berlin donated €3,000, and €60,000 was collected across Germany. The strike fund was urgently needed to make up the shortfall between strike pay and regular pay. Verdi’s normal strike pay is 60%. Because current pay is so low, even the decision to raise strike pay to 90% still left a gap (not to mention losing weekend bonuses and the like).

Supporters also attended the picket lines and demonstrations. At the same time, links were cultivated with other workers in dispute—the BVG transport workers and the general public service pay round. As Sascha said, coordinating a strike together would have been good, but that did not really work out.

The employers caved on Friday, 6 June, although the union members must still approve the settlement. The result of their vote should be announced around 4 July. Approval is expected. The main result is that pay will be increased in increments to reach 100% of TVÖD by 2030, including any increases in TVÖD in the interim. And pay will be increased to 88% of TVÖD with immediate effect, as well as a one-off payment of €300. The immediate increase in monthly income will be between €100 and €800.

The situation with conditions and grading is the fly in the ointment. Here, the agreement does not foresee general application of the relevant parts of the TVÖD. And the workers’ demand for the right to full-time employment has not been satisfactorily resolved. As strike leader Sascha said, ‘We’ll have to fight on for that.’ And he hopes that this dispute ‘could spark a blaze in Germany’. Similar grievances are certainly on the table.

At Helios Berlin-Buch, 40 therapists have been on indefinite strike since Monday, 19 May. This is another outsourcing story. Because they are employed by a subsidiary (Helios Therapie Ost), their pay is up to €1,500 per month lower than colleagues doing the same work for the same hospital group at Helios Emil von Behring in Berlin-Zehlendorf. They are demanding equality of pay and conditions. So far, Helios has offered just 1% towards a pay gap of 47%.

Outsourced ancillaries at Berlin’s Vivantes hospitals are preparing for action over the same issues. The union campaign has started, and action is expected early next year. As Sascha told me, CFM workers will support them and intend to donate what remains in their strike fund.

The strike at CFM should serve as an inspiration for others. As Ganimete, a CFM cleaner and union activist, put it: ‘When we strike, I feel my strength. And the strength of my workmates.’

Being on the right side of history is Parful

Pro-Palestine, Irish band Kneecap contests ‘terror offence’ charge as political policing


18/06/2025

Silhouette of Kneecap singer Mo Chara against black and white image of the band in the background

It’s a dreary day in November and I’m listening to my favourite radio station when I suddenly feel overwhelmingly ‘PARFUL’ and so it was that I was first ‘Kneecapped’ (sozusagen). In the six months that followed the Northern Irish rap trio Kneecap went on to storm the stage of political music to become the raging and indeed, raving elephant in the room. 

In the song ‘Parful’ the bouncy playfulness of the beat and lyrics connects the whimsy of youth with deep idealism. 

The song starts:

Well, this wall was built years ago to stop the Protestants on this side fighting with the Catholics on the other

It’s there 24 hours a day

The thing is that it divides the two communities

but every Saturday night hundreds of people go out down-town, just go out clubbin’

forget about the divides between each other.

It goes on to describe the potency of unity and freedom in Irish youth culture. For those that didn’t grow up on or around the so-called British Isles that entails: ‘Gettin’ whacked in the rain is parful/ Chain smokin’ with your mates is parful/ Arriving late to rave with an 8th and your jawbone aches and ye still feel parful.’ If you know, you know.

Kneecap’s ability to captivate the imaginations of disenchanted youth, combined with earnest and unflinching idealism, punching up, not down, to challenge sectarianism and imperialism in Ireland and beyond, is what has catapulted the group into the spotlight and onto the political agenda.

With a name like Kneecap and singles like ‘C.E.A.R.T.A.’ (cearta meaning ‘rights’ in the Irish language) and ‘Get your Brits out!’, the staunchly Republican, anti-Zionist, Irish-speaking trio is blowing the narrative of the imperialistic status quo wide open and ruffling more than a few feathers on the way.

Unlike many other UK bands, the group managed to ‘break America’ in no uncertain terms with their performance at Coachella Festival in May. 

During the performance, band member Mo Chara explained: “The Irish not so long ago were persecuted at the hands of the Brits, but we were never bombed from the… skies with nowhere to go. The Palestinians have nowhere to go.”

At the end of their second set the following three messages were projected onto screens:  ‘Israel is committing genocide against the Palestinian people,’ and ‘It is being enabled by the US government who arm and fund Israel despite their war crimes,’ and finally: ‘F*ck Israel. Free Palestine.’

And so, the audience were galvanised and chanted: ‘Free, free Palestine.’

It was after this, that Sharon Osbourne decided to chime in to suggest they have their visas revoked, serving only to push Kneecap even further centre stage to amplify their message: ‘Statements aren’t aggressive, murdering 20,000 children is though.’

Meanwhile, the gatekeepers of the pro-Zionist narrative are grasping at straws, doing their best to find ways to criminalise and silence the group. Due to a recently surfaced video of a concert held at the O2 Forum in London last November whereby Liam Óg Ó hAnnaidh––who performs under the name Mo Chara––was shown displaying a Hezbollah flag, he was consequently charged on terrorism offences.

The band has responded by saying the charges are an attempt at political policing intended to silence criticism of Israel’s war on Gaza.

On the 22nd of May they posted this statement on Instagram:

‘14000 babies are about to die of starvation in Gaza. With food sent by the world sitting on the other side of a wall, and once again the British establishment is focused on us. We deny this “offence” and will vehemently defend ourselves. This is political policing. This is a carnival of distraction. We are not the story. Genocide is. […] You stand complicit with the war criminals. We are on the right side of history. You are not. We will fight you in court. We will win. Free Palestine.’

As the footage of Israel withholding aid from starving Palestinians and subsequently shooting them as they scramble for food flashes across our screens, the attempts at silencing and criminalising voices of dissent sound increasingly feeble and delusional and have rapidly become yesterday’s news. 

The extermination of an entire people, however, will never be forgotten.

Mo Chara is due to appear at Westminster Magistrates Court today, represented by an impressive legal team including: 

Gareth Peirce, solicitor for WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange and for Gerry Conlon and the Guildford Four, who were falsely convicted of being Provisional IRA bombers; Rosalind Comyn, who has represented Extinction Rebellion protesters; as well as Darragh Mackin from Phoenix Law; Brenda Campbell KC; Jude Bunting KC; and Blinne Ní Ghrálaigh KC, who recently appeared before the ICJ on behalf of South Africa against Israel and the genocide on Gaza.

Kneecap’s performances in Germany this summer have all been cancelled, however you can catch them at venues across Europe. Full tour details can be found here.

“Germany, you’re not getting rid of us until you stop supporting genocide”

Interview with Jara Nassar from the Occupy against Occupation Camp opposite the Bundestag


17/06/2025

So here we are again. Could you just remind people who you are?

Hi, I’m Jara. I’m one of the press speakers and organizers of Besetzung gegen Besatzung (Occupy against Occupation), which is a Palestine Solidarity camp in front of the German parliament, the Bundestag. Two days ago, on Friday the 13th, we set up for a third time to protest Germany’s weapons exports to Israel and the ongoing genocide,

Could you also remind us what happened to the first two camps?

Gladly. The first time we set up was last year, April 8th, 2024. We set up our tents out of a random push for wanting to do something different, because the genocide in Gaza had been going on for six months. We had a wonderful 19 days of workshops and panels and protests and all sorts of people coming and having community space up until the 26th of April, where we got brutally evicted by the Berlin police .

The police gave us about an hour’s notice. They showed up on Friday morning with riot gear, locked down almost all of the streets coming to the camp, and proceeded to evict us very brutally, smash our stuff, and injure and arrest a lot of people. 

Then we had a second camp in November and December of 2024 that lasted for six weeks. We packed that one up just before Christmas. And now we’re back. 

Why now? 

The right time to protest for Palestine is always — but specifically now we’re standing in solidarity with the Sumud convoys, the march to Gaza, and the Freedom Flotilla, which are all projects that are trying to break the 18 year long siege and and naval blockade of Gaza. 

Gaza has been under a complete siege for more than 90 days now, which means that barely any aid, food, medical supplies, fuel have been let in, all things that are extremely necessary to the survival of the people there. Israel has been blocking all of it, and people are trying to break that siege.

How do you think that the camp is contributing towards breaking the siege?

Germany is the second largest weapons exporter to Israel, which means that our domestic protest here is incredibly important as part of a global solidarity movement to stop Israeli war crimes and crimes against humanity, and the ongoing occupation of Palestine. If we can stop the weapons getting delivered from Germany, that would be a massive blow to the Israeli war machine. 

Some people in Germany like to think that they can’t really do anything, but Germany is one of the staunchest supporters of Israel. This is very much a protest in the belly of the beast.,

The camp is directly opposite the Bundestag. If people visit, when should they come and what can they expect?

Come anytime. We’re here 24/7. During the daytime, you can expect Community Care workshops, readings, and interesting conversations with people from all walks of life. In the afternoon, you can expect workshops, rallies, drumming, and then in the evenings we usually have a film screening. 

Because it’s June, and it gets dark so late, the films start at 9.30. Tomorrow, (Monday 16th), we’re screening No Other Land and then having a discussion about it. 

Where could people find a program of what’s happening when?

They can find that on our Instagram, our Telegram, or our Website. They all have the name besetzunggegenbesatzung.

How long do you expect to be there? You said you were brutally forced out the first time round, and last time you packed up for Christmas. Is there a plan for this time?

We have now registered for 10 days until 23rd June, and then we will see whether we continue or consider this a success, pack up and continue pressuring the German government in other forms. Even when the camp gets packed up, that doesn’t mean we stop.

What exactly are you protesting? You said you’re in solidarity with the Convoy and the Madleen, but as you were setting up, Israel attacked Iran. Is that part of your protest?

Our protest is against Israel’s ongoing settler colonial regime that has expansive ambitions all over the region. Not only is Israel attacking Iran, but it is also still bombing and killing people in Lebanon and Syria.

Our protest is against the entire Israeli war machine and the German complicity in it, because all of this would not be possible without German weapons, bombs, diplomacy, and finance.

Do you get a sense that things are changing in Germany? Now even Friedrich Merz and Annalena Baerbock are saying that Israel is going too far. Is anything practically changing in German politics, or are these just words?

So far, these are just words of a regime that wants to establish itself as the dominant military power in Europe. Germany strategically sees that more and more of the world’s tide is turning against Israel. It would be naive to believe that the German government has actually come to a moral awakening. As long as Germany benefits from this war machine, with all of its weapons production, this will continue.

But there is a narrative shift, and we do hope that more and more of the German people wake up to what’s happening and start protesting. It’s not enough to sit at home and quietly disapprove, which seems to be the case for most people in Germany. Now is really the time to get up and start doing something.

A friend of mine was at Camp yesterday, and she said there were more Germans there than she was expecting. Are you witnessing this too?

There were definitely more Germans than expected yesterday, because there was a protest around the corner that was co-organized by ver.di. I would say that proportionally there were definitely more old white Germans than at any of the Palestinian or diaspora organized protests that I’ve seen so far. 

We do welcome and encourage that shift, but we don’t have people coming up to us and saying: “Oh, I’m so sorry. I should have been here a year and three months ago when you first set up”. If you want accountability, that means that people need to reckon with their own role. If they only wake up late, that’s cool. Good that you woke up. Now make up for it.

At least it’s good that some people are changing.

Some people, yes, but without a fundamental shift, that’s just window dressing.

Today there’s also a protest for Veteranentag against German militarization. Are you finding ways of linking up with this? Is this an opportunity to address young Germans who are worried about conscription, but are not yet necessarily thinking about Palestine?

There’s obviously a big connection between Germany gearing up for war, changing its economy to produce more weapons, and now edging closer to reintroducing enforced conscription. We are linked up with the organizers of the Veteranentag protests. We absolutely support them. We mobilize people to go there and then afterwards come to the camp. 

We do hope that this is something that we can address within the camp for young Germans, or older Germans who are worried that their kids are going to go to war. All of these things are connected.

Back to the camp. You say you’re organising workshops. Who is running these workshops? Can someone just turn up and offer their own workshop?

Absolutely. Anyone who is in solidarity with Palestine and wants to offer a workshop, a panel, anything, they are very welcome to come. This is not organized by a closed group. It’s very DIY organizing. Yesterday, we had someone do a yoga workshop that was relatively spontaneous. 

If people want to get involved, there’s a daily plenum at 12 noon. But also join the Telegram, chat, text us and just come by. We’re here 24/7.

Last time you had some bigger events with people like Michael Barenboim speaking. Is there anything on that level planned this time round?

We’re working on it. We do hope that we will get that. Stay tuned.

Do you think there’s a chance of getting people from the Freedom Flotilla along?

Two members of the flotilla were just deported back to Berlin after they were illegally abducted to Israel. We do hope that we will get them here to the camp, but obviously being abducted by Israel and then deported is a little bit of stress. We admire and honour their commitment. They may first need a couple of days to rest.

[Editor’s Note: Yasemin Acar, who was on the Flotilla, will now be speaking at the camp at 6pm on Wednesday, 18th June]

People can camp as well. Do you have spare tents? Or should people bring their own? 

We do have some spare tents, but we also have a great amount of campers right now. So we encourage everyone to come and camp with us, and bring your tents and sleeping bags. If you don’t have any, we do have stuff here. 

And if you’re in Berlin and you have camping gear, but you can’t camp, drop it off. We do our best to give this stuff back, unless the police destroy it again.

What about people not in Berlin? People in Berlin should come to the camp and get involved. Is there any way people outside Berlin can support you? 

People outside of Berlin can share the message. We have some events that we’re going to be live streaming. They can also reach out. We’re happy to do a Skillshare for how to organize your own protest camp. 

You are more than welcome to come here on 21st June, when the United for Gaza march is mobilizing people to come to Berlin. We very cordially invite anyone and everyone who is traveling to Berlin for that march to bring your tents. Come camp with us.

You talked about being attacked by the police. We are currently sitting in the camp and can see a number of police looking at us. What’s the likelihood that the police will try and break you up again?

I think for now, it’s rather low, because after the first brutal eviction, they did get a lot of bad press, and we are now very linked with international organizations that have an eye on us. If something happens, we can scandalize it. 

But of course we do see the absurd administrative obstruction of the police. Yesterday, they put up these metal barricades which mean that the entire front side of the camp is now locked off. They told us that they would just be there for a march which was passing by. We said: this amazing march was pro-Palestine. You don’t need to protect us against it.

We asked the police if they’d take them down. And they said, no, these will now stay. This is what we see from the German police and the Berlin police especially. As soon as the repressive measure is in place, it will stay. It’s completely absurd. 

It’s obviously intended to make us harder to reach, to make us appear like criminals, to make us feel caged in, fenced in from 2 sides. We hope that we can get the police to take it down, seeing as this is completely absurd and unnecessary. But we’re also not going to be intimidated. 

I know some people with precarious residency status who say that they’re not sure whether they’ll come here, because if they’re arrested the repercussions are much more. What would you say to them?

Unfortunately, that is always a risk. At the moment, we have had three arrests. But there are very low risk ways to get engaged. There was never a situation where the whole camp got kettled and everyone was arrested, or we couldn’t get out anymore. 

We do have people here with precarious residency status, and the people with the European and German passports are aware of that and have the solidarity to then put themselves on the line a bit more.

Is there anything we haven’t talked about that you’d like to say?

On June 21st there’s also an open house at the Rotes Rathaus, close to Alexanderplatz. We all know that our mayor, Kai Wegner, is very complicit in the genocide in Gaza. He has said that there is no genocide in Gaza full stop. So this is a good opportunity to go and confront him.

Apart from that, the Camp is just a really nice place to come and meet people and talk strategy. We have to reaffirm that, even with everything going on, the focus is always Gaza. The last internet cable in Gaza has just been bombed by Israel. They have a complete communication blackout. And that is the people we are fighting for, because those are the ones who are in most danger. 

If you do close down the camp, what happens then?

Then we move on to other forms, and we might be back. We always have our tents in the back of our minds. Many of us who are at the first and second camps are really happy to be back here. Germany, you’re not getting rid of us until you stop supporting genocide.