“Genocide’s Wake,” by David Lloyd, is a Communis original feature.

“Genocide aims to abolish the life in common in which the atomized self-for-itself was unknown. What remains is the diminished fragment of shattered life, the wreckage cast up on the shore after the storm. Its loneliness is the longing for a collectivity that its very survival in the form of the individual forecloses. And beyond the terror of awaiting at every moment the sudden arrival of one’s own death is the abyss in which every person, every relation, every document or dwelling, every loved and shared place that might have borne witness to one’s existence and one’s passing will have been obliterated.”

— David Lloyd

I

Seven months on from the October 10, 2025 “peace agreement” that was supposed at least to suspend the two year-long horror of Israel’s genocide in Gaza—with its daily toll of slaughter and war crimes—it is all too obvious that the ceasefire has been unilateral. While the Palestinian resistance has largely honored the agreement and suspended its military operations, Israel has followed, within hours of signing the accord, its usual practice of breaching every ceasefire it agrees to. As it has done in Lebanon after each ceasefire agreement with Hezbollah and the Lebanese government, so it has done in Gaza: according to figures provided by the United Nations, operations conducted by the IDF—Israel Occupying Forces—since the October 2025 ceasefire have left 765 Palestinians dead—including 180 children—and 2,140 injured. While admittedly the toll is lower than in the preceding months, the bloodthirsty lust for slaughter that has overtaken the Zionist State and its depraved armed forces has clearly yet to be sated.

It is not only through the continuing murder of Palestinians, though, that Israel’s genocide continues. Within days of the “20-point plan” being agreed, on the boldfaced pretext that Hamas was not producing fast enough the corpses of the Israeli prisoners of war that the Israel Occupying Forces’ own bombs had buried in the rubble along with thousands of Palestinians, the Israeli military cynically curbed the desperately needed imports of food, medical supplies, fuel and shelter Israel had agreed to admit, together with banning the excavation equipment needed to efficiently locate the bodies of the dead. Winter storms flooded and destroyed the flimsy tents or collapsed the ruined structures that were Palestinians’ only protection from the elements, infants are dying of hypothermia and malnutrition, and the food crisis persists. Rodent and insect infestations, uncontrollable because of Israel’s refusal to permit the entry of insecticides and other means of controlling pests, are multiplying the public health crisis. To cap its serial violations of the terms of the ceasefire, the Israel Occupying Forces continues to push the “yellow line” that already enclosed over 50% of Gaza further into the Strip, tightening the noose around the ghetto to which the Palestinian population is now confined. Rather than a ceasefire, this deceleration of the pace of the genocide resembles watching a torturer who, while preparing his instruments for the next round of cruelties, offers his victim a sip of tea.

Even as we wait for Gaza’s ongoing nightmare to slip back into the next round of Israel’s all-out wars that have punctuated for over fifteen years the phony peace that passed for normal life in the besieged strip, an older and no less grotesque horror continues to unfold. It is not only the cynicism that Diana Bhuttu so eloquently pilloried within days of the ceasefire, that the Palestinians have once again been forced to negotiate an end to the crimes committed against them. Nor is it that in the whole charade of the twenty-point peace plan and at the narcissistic Trumpian victory lap at Sharm el-Sheikh—where the world’s self-appointed leaders sought a little spot with the clownish US president under the tanning lamp—the question of Palestinian rights and legitimate claims to self-determination never arose.

Such self-congratulatory celebrations of the civilized virtues and magnanimity of the colonial powers are par for the course and have ornamented every step of the way to decolonization: Europe has long known how to retrieve its self-esteem from the humiliation of defeat at the hands of the colonized by invoking its dubious monopoly on the regime of legality, civility and universal democratic rights, so dire in its consequences for those on whom such abstractions were inflicted and so easily relinquished or suspended whenever the colonial reason of State required. The imperial United States and even the despots of the formerly colonized world have been quick to learn that lesson and to dress the shame of their failure to halt a genocide in the ceremonial trappings of summits and cheap deals.

The old new horror lies, rather, at the heart of the spectacle of the preening plenipotentiaries of these powers, with their trumpeting of the international legal order they have systematically dismantled on Israel’s behalf, rushing to enfold the genocidal State in their warm embrace. Every non-governmental  institution of that international order has, if often with shameful foot-dragging, condemned the latest phase of Israel’s eighty-year genocide and criminal annexations: the International Court of Justice and the International Criminal Court, the United Nations’ numerous bodies, from the Independent International Commission of Inquiry on the Occupied Palestinian Territory to UNRWA and UNESCO, and all the major international human rights organizations, from Amnesty International to Human Rights Watch. Palestinians, of course, had no need of these declarations to which, in any case, the powers responsible for their plight have concertedly and obdurately turned deaf ears. Those who live and die through a genocide need no validation of their resistance from institutions that have been so reluctant to recognize what has long been self-evident. Moreover, the colonial powers and the serviceable organs of their complaisant media have eagerly embraced the process of exonerating Israel and putting the genocide behind them. Or worse, for exoneration would at least suggest that a crime had been committed and acknowledged to require their pardon. Rather, they continue to turn their blind eyes to the blood-soaked evidence of a slaughter beyond words and beyond imagining, though the evidence has been on every screen for over 26 months and continues to mount every day that Israel violates the ceasefire they so eagerly greeted. Every excuse, from Trump’s impetuous and incompetent assault on Iran in alignment with the US’s genocidal client State to Republican electoral shenanigans, helps to keep Gaza’s plight from the front pages and from the agenda of inter-governmental conclaves.

In like manner, for over two years  the governments of the so-called “free world” closed their ears to the clamor of their own people crying out against the slaughter, to the incessant drone of a meticulously indiscriminate air war against a defenseless population, and to the crack of snipers’ rifles in their malicious play with children’s lives and limbs. Still they close their ears to the words of the perpetrators, as incessantly repeated now as over the past months, who have brazenly declared to the world their premeditated plan of extermination and dispossession of a people. They close their mouths to leave judgement unspoken, refusing to name the crime flagrantly committed over two agonizing years and in the face of the world’s abhorrence. Rather than condemn this genocidal scheme, they sanctified that plan in a peace deal that is nothing more than a fantastical real estate blueprint, to all appearances plagiarized from Le Corbusier’s openly racist and no less abortive design for the reconstruction of colonial Algiers.[i]

For Israel’s genocide, there will be no Nuremberg, no inquiries, no tribunals or trials. Where, in the wake of Nuremberg, a new international order came to compromised life in the reluctantly drafted conventions on genocide and the laws of war, in declarations of rights, freedoms and the self-determination of peoples, Israel’s genocide has buried in its wake those moribund organs of international and humanitarian law deep in the grave of its terrorism and settler-colonial death drive. They have succeeded in this, as they have in the past managed to reshape the terms of international law by violating it, rendering it into an instrument of unrestrained colonial violence in the name of counterinsurgency and self-defense. Their lawless violations have become the norm.[ii] Asymmetrical warfare has become the gateway to an utterly asymmetrical force of law and to the ironclad denial of justice.

Israel’s achievement of the bold-faced commission of the ultimate crime of genocide with apparently total impunity has only one condition of possibility: the steady connivance, political cover, and material support of the Euro-American powers and their dictatorial vassals in the Arab world. One can almost hear the sighs of relief and gratitude emanating from Washington and Europe’s capitals. They know well that their active complicity is in violation of the terms of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, that they are culpable and accountable for a genocide they failed to intervene and prevent. They know equally well that the historical means by which they accumulated the material wealth and technological apparatus to dominate the world lies in their own centuries-long record of calculated genocides, from Ireland to Bengal, from Hispaniola to California, Australia to Argentina, all those casual slaughters that accompanied the processes of colonial capitalist accumulation.

II

The history of genocide that shaped Europe and its settler colonies, along with their desire to preserve the exceptional status of the Holocaust on Israel’s behalf, explains with little room for ambiguity Euro-American powers’ shameless abstention from the UN General Assembly’s resolution on the North Atlantic Slave Trade. As the peace deal in Gaza makes clear to anyone who had not already realized this, Israel’s genocide is only one more iteration of settler-colonial practices dating back to the very emergence of colonial capitalism. Israel’s problem with Palestine was always the precedence of an Indigenous population that denied them the right to declare it terra nullius. Even in 1948, at the inception of global movements for decolonization, it was still possible for settlers from Europe to adapt that continent’s colonial blueprint, perfected over generations and even brought home in the industrial logic of the Nazi death camps, to carry out the Nakba. European powers are well aware of the continuity between Israel’s crimes and their own.

But the ghosts of the past are not what inspire their sighs of relief. It is, rather, the specters of the present and future in which Europe and the United States are already engaged in a slow genocide of the world’s vulnerable and—from capitalism’s instrumentalist perspective—redundant populations, that is, peoples unproductive of value. Trump’s “wall” and Europe’s “fortress” have the same design, the exclusion and consignment to death zones of those whose life-worlds their rapacious extractivism and carbon economies have destroyed. The anti-migrant ideologies that fuel not only the extreme right, MAGA, Reform or the AfD, but also the biopolitical policies of centrist parties, ground the self-evidence of a lethal distinction between those deserving of life and those already determined to be beyond consideration: the Palestinian, the political or the climate refugee, the victim of wars that are the fall-out of postcolonial settlements, from Afghanistan to Sudan. For the Western powers and for those postcolonial nations that share their logics and that are, like India, Argentina or Chile, in the thrall of their own supremacist far rights, the only possible adjustment to the population movements that climate change, warfare and the arbitrary movements of capital impel is the scheduled denial of justice. Israel’s impunity and the destruction of the order of rights and accountability anticipate a retrenched new world order that eagerly dispenses with the very idea of universality with which it has for two centuries quietly divided the world into the rights-bearing subjects of freedom and the subjected unworthy of inclusion.[iii] From being the worst of crimes, genocide has now become the norm by which neoliberalism emplots the total violence of its new strategies of accumulation.

No matter Old Europe’s consternation that this international order has been disrupted by the volatile chaos of the Trump administration or that for a moment his greedy eye on Greenland suggested that America’s former allies might find themselves deprived of their sovereign rights and relegated to the status of every one of the world’s States that has not been granted the status of a Westphalian power.[iv] The chorus of applause that greeted Canadian Prime Minister Carney’s speech at the 2025 World Economic Forum at Davos expressed at once that consternation and also a certain relief. On the one hand, he named the shared sense of “a rupture in the world order, the end of a pleasant fiction and the beginning of a harsh reality, where geopolitics, where the large, main power, geopolitics, is submitted to no limits, no constraints” and went on to admit that nations like Canada “knew the story of the international rules-based order was partially false, that the strongest would exempt themselves when convenient, that trade rules were enforced asymmetrically.” Warning that “the middle powers must act together, because if we’re not at the table, we’re on the menu,” he nonetheless gave hope to the assembled “middle powers” that despite the “rise of hard power” they might still “live the truth” though solidarity: “the power of legitimacy, integrity and rules will remain strong, if we choose to wield them together.”

Rousing words, indeed, but it remained rather unclear who was embraced in the term “middle powers.” If measured by GDP, only a handful of European nations make it into the top ten (along with Canada) and only a handful more into the top 20. The BRICS, on the other hand, dominate the top of the list. Does Belgium then count as a middle power? Norway or Greece? Or did he mean to turn to Brazil or South Africa for a new moral leadership? Hardly. That he really meant those Western European nations that form the core of NATO was made much clearer this month in Yerevan, Armenia, where he dropped in on a summit of European leaders to offer his “strong personal view that the international order will be rebuilt, but it will be rebuilt out of Europe.” As America’s former hegemony whirls wildly into rudderlessness, the settler colony Canada will galvanize the ailing colonial powers of Europe in an effort to restore the hegemony of the colonial powers, accelerate their resurgent militarism, and rebuild their hoped-for economic dominance. This transatlantic coalition of intermediate powers will hold the fort till the US, under some cannier Democratic regime, picks up the fallen banner of US hegemony.

Given NATO’s record of war crimes, the train of “failed” or, rather, militarily dismantled States it has left in its wake, and, lately, its eager and ongoing complicity in Israel’s blatant violations of the international legal regime that from time to time it unctuously and limply pretends to lament, the nations of the world would have reason for both nausea and a little fear should there be any prospect of these former colonial powers regaining the will to “live the truth”. We know all too well that Europe’s historical and contemporary truth is genocide and that European domination has everywhere brought destruction and annihilation to the cultures and peoples that resisted the inroads of colonial capitalism and imperial rule.

III

We are told that the first casualty of a genocide is the individual human being, erased in the dehumanizing indifferentiation of a racialized people. That is wrong. The first instance of genocide is the individual. This has historical truth: the individual was unleashed by the destruction, by enclosure and by acts of appropriation of that which was never possessed but held in common, of Indigenous ways of life that in their very form resisted capital. The individual is the atrophied remnant of a world of abundance, ever governed by the fear of scarcity that is the natural law of the state of necessity that acts of genocide proclaim and promptly produce. The individual is the impoverished form survival takes when necessity dissolves all communal ties and reduces each to a grasping possessiveness forged in the crucible of mortal need. Naturalized as primal greed or self-interest in the crude common sense of capital, the subject’s contours shrivel to the limits of its permanently anxious, egocentric enclosure.

This insight also has psychic truth to it. Genocide aims to abolish the life in common in which the atomized self-for-itself was unknown. What remains is the diminished fragment of shattered life, the wreckage cast up on the shore after the storm. Its loneliness is the longing for a collectivity that its very survival in the form of the individual forecloses.

Genocide seeks to accomplish at a terrifyingly accelerated pace the atomization that, beyond the mass killing, disease, and famine that are its immediate instruments, shatters the social ties of the targeted society: tightly knit communities and extended families are decimated, children left without any family in a state beyond orphanage; the desperate pursuit of  the means to survival, if for no more than a day, pits neighbor against neighbor, even, in the lowest deep, parent against child. And beyond the terror of awaiting at every moment the sudden arrival of one’s own death is the abyss in which every person, every relation, every document or dwelling, every loved and shared place that might have borne witness to one’s existence and one’s passing will have been obliterated.

Every tie is loosed and “society stands dissolved.”[v] Genocide is the inner logic of the neoliberal State in its continuity with settler-colonial capitalism, its banner proclaiming “there shall be no society.”[vi] Genocide is the rational outcome of the calculus in which only those who produce value have value: vast numbers of humans have been made redundant, surplus even to the requirement of a reserve army of labor, while their environments and the ways of life they sustained have been reduced to drought-stricken deserts or toxic wastelands exploited and abandoned by capital. Those who flee the climatic consequences of the petrochemical order or the war and banditry of the greed for resources, set adrift from any remaining social ties, become the atomized and anonymized targets of the piecemeal genocide of border controls, incarceration, and deportations fueled by anti-immigrant hatred stirred up to distract the populace from their own dismal prospects.

The masked agents of border enforcement seek first to extract their targets from communities in order to disperse them in isolated units in the concentration camps of the expelled. Collectivity is their first target and any sign of organized resistance, in the neighborhood as in the camp, from protests to hunger strikes, is violently repressed. Collective action itself, no matter the nonviolence of its expression, is recognized as the challenge to the individuation of the criminalized migrant. Ironically, even the legal defenders reinforce this pattern, obliged as they are by pragmatism to single out a handful of exemplary plaintiffs from the undifferentiated mass of those morally and punitively evicted from humanity.

The late lamented regime of rights that emerged from the European genocide confirmed this special status of the individual as the bearer of rights, foregrounding “individual rights” over collective rights, the sanctity of the individual over those forms of living that, as Rosa Luxemburg early realized, are targeted in their collectivity by capitalist accumulation.[vii] The aim of colonial regimes is to destroy the communal bonds of solidarity and to produce individuals in their stead, whether through the parceling of expropriated land into units of property or simply through the scattering of peoples into the wilderness of capitalist industries and urban slums. Rights invoked in the name of the individual bear with them the livid scars of mass destitution.

IV

In the mass collective protests of the Gaza genocide on campuses in the US and globally, the paucity of the professoriate that showed any active solidarity should have been more remarked on than the fates of the courageous few who have been sanctioned or terminated for their engagement. An age-old collusion between the intellectual and the process of individuation plays out down to this day in the reluctance of the academic professions to act or organize collectively. The intellectual division of labor, originating in the special skills of the learned and literate elite, lent itself from the start to the emergence of individuals singled out for their exceptional talents, a process formalized in the adversarial exercises of the medieval university. Even the marginal lyrics of anonymous monastic scribes, copying the Gospels while the stag bellowed in the night, signal the advent and the self-consciousness of the individual, the seeds of the cult of the genius or, in Silicon Valley’s alibi for servile functionality, “the creative.”

The processes of education that emerged from enclosure and industrialization, where the commons is replaced by the hope of employment, single out and sort into their proper roles the as-yet undifferentiated yet diversely endowed mass of students, thus betraying the intimacy of individuation with functionality: defined by their fit with a certain function, say, for the sake of concision, manual, technical, intellectual, the individuals formed by their extraction from the etiolated remnant of collectivity that is the capitalist family are in fact entirely fungible within the limits of the box to which they have been assigned.[viii] For the most part, any individual can take the place of another. This is the meaning of the individual in and for capital: as an isolate, and only as such, does any human become a unit of labor power, destined to sell their only possession, a capacity to work, in order to survive.

The intellectual worker, however, continues to be persuaded of their unique characteristics, of the distinction that makes them indispensable and irreplaceable. For the low-hanging fruit in the media and entertainment industries, the advent of AI has rapidly shattered that illusion: scripts that were in any case banal and predictable can easily be mimicked by an algorithm. For the professoriate, the casualization of teaching and the capitalization of research, for which the goal is the production of value rather than pure knowledge indifferent to utility and therefore open to non-instrumental discovery, should by now have dismantled the investment in an intellectual sphere in which the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake—like art for art’s sake—has lost any practical or even rhetorical purchase in the public sphere. The idea of a disinterested university originated in liberal democracy’s need to accommodate politically the individuals it had produced and to transform them into the form of citizens. It flourished in the Cold War by virtue of capitalism’s need to assert the consanguinity of capitalism, democracy, and freedom even at the cost of sheltering a grudgingly tolerated space for radical critiques of its own principles. That ideological conjunction has long since lapsed into its desuetude and the academic intellectual is left bare and defenseless before the chainsaws of neoliberal functionality. The waning of disinterest as a principle has liquidated virtually any remnant of the non-instrumental idea of the university as a public good with a fading afterglow of the commons.

Only organization, not as professionals or as individual players in the market, but as workers, could offer any prospect of collective survival, possibly even as essential workers in the neoliberal knowledge economy which, given its centrality to the current formation of capital, has become a no less essential fulcrum for resistance. For that possibility to be realized, however, would demand a complete destruction of the ego-ideal around which, over decades, the self-conception of the intellectual as a uniquely gifted individual whose disinterest is also the disavowal of their implication in the political, has been structured and reproduced. Dismantling that deeply embedded self-conception may have to start with the shocking recognition that to cling to the fiction of individual autonomy is to stake one’s pride on the ruined afterlife of genocide.

V

O! How alone we are!
All the others have won their wars
and you were left in your mud,
barren.

Hiba Abu Nida

The genocide is over. The genocide is paused. The genocide goes on. The genocide spreads, a toxic spill that coats every shore it touches. No one is free from its stain, not those who celebrate and lend it their support and their arms, least of all those who bear witness and would condemn it: the very acknowledgment of relentless, merciless destruction is a shameful taint, never to be washed out. This shame differs from and exceeds the discomfort we feel with our unwilling complicity, as citizens, in our States’ material and political support for Israel’s genocide. It is the shame of knowing that our very social being, our material existence and even the form of the values that undergird our sense of freedom and rights were and are forged in the bloody history of genocide.[ix] While the shame of complicity may motivate and energize our solidarity with Palestinian liberation and underlie the logic of the campaign for Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions or direct action against genocidal corporations, shame at the very form of living within which such actions are framed and which is their necessary terrain points in a different direction altogether.

And that is the lesson that Palestine may gift us, if we are able to accept it. The genocide continues because the Palestinians have refused to be defeated and have persisted in living on even in the face of destruction and despite the settlers’ vicious will to annihilate them. Their refusal defies the logic of genocide, not in the language of international law and its slow determinations nor even in the appeal to rights, but in the daily insistence on staying put and constantly reconstituting their ties to one another. Refusal of the terms of surrender holds to the land that sustains those bonds and is the archive of memory and resistance.

Resistance to genocide, Palestinians remind us, does not consist in patiently waiting for the judgement of an international court or relying on the ever-deferred moment at which the major powers will finally honor international humanitarian law and sanction Israel for its innumerable crimes. It resides, rather, in the forms of living on, in the in-gathering and the mutual aid that draw on the resources of another conception of life in common than any that the individuated citizen and beneficiary of rights and sovereignty can imagine. It persists even among the remains and the rubble, even in the ash and mud of defeat from which the tenacity of defiance springs. The ruin-strewn wake of genocide that has followed the flagrant violence of civilization wherever it has voyaged demands no less than such a stubborn refusal to disappear from the face of the earth. If, to paraphrase Gazan poet Hiba Abu Nada again,[x] there is no room for Palestinians in this universe, the “narrow corridor” left to them opens onto another earth and another life in common that the world of States and rights forecloses.

Notes

[i] For an extended discussion of Le Corbusier’s Plan Obus (an ‘obus’ is an explosive shell), see Zeynep Çelik, Urban Forms and Colonial Confrontations: Algiers under French Rule (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997), pp. 73-8.

[ii] On Israel’s serial destruction or bending of international law through its violations of it, where “violations can become the norm rather than the exception”, see Noura Erakat, Justice for Some: Law and the Question of Palestine (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2019), pp. 183-94.

[iii] Giorgio Agamben sketched this possibility through the figure of the refuge or migrant in “Beyond Human Rights,” in Means Without End: Notes on Politics (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2000), p. 20: “so-called sacred and inalienable rights are revealed to be without any protection precisely when it is possible to conceive of them as rights of the citizens of a state.” For all the formal recognition by European States of Palestinian statehood during the genocide, their deliberate inaction with regard to enforcing the consequences of that recognition means that Palestinians remain the exemplary instance of the utter vulnerability of the stateless non-citizen in the face of State-inflicted violence.

[iv] On the distinction between the sovereignty of the Euro-American or Westphalian States (which would embrace, for example, Israel of Japan) and the limited sovereignty granted to postcolonial States, see Anthony Anghies indispensable Imperialism, Sovereignty and the Making of International Law (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005), chapter 4.

[v] I cite here the famous declaration of Irish republican James Fintan Lalor, in his essay, written during the worst year of the Irish Famine, “A New Nation: Proposal for an Agricultural Association between Landowners and Occupiers” (1847) in L. Fogarty, ed. James Fintan Lalor: Patriot and Political Essayist (1807-1849) (Dublin: Talbot Press, 1918, p. 10. Lalor’s perception of the genocidal social consequences of the Irish famine seems no less apposite to Gaza at the moment.

[vi] On the continuity between settler-colonial regimes and neoliberal State formation, see David Lloyd and Patrick Wolfe, “Introduction: Settler Colonial Logics and the Neoliberal Regime”, in Settler Colonial Studies 6.2 (May 2016), pp. 109-118.

[vii] Rosa Luxemburg, The Accumulation of Capital, trans. Agnes Schwarzchild, intro. Tadeusz Kowalik (London: Routledge, 2003), p. 350.

[viii] See Theodor W. Adorno, The Jargon of Authenticity, trans. Knut Tarnowski and Frederic Will (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1973), p. 67: “Each function within the person, once firmly defined, negates the person’s total principle. The person becomes simply the sum of his functions. […] Each individual function, created under the law of self-preservation, becomes so firmly congealed that none can exist by itself, that no life can be constructed out of its functional pieces. The individual functions turn against the self which they are supposed to serve.”

[ix] This shame is kin with but differs from the shame at humanity’s capacity for evil that Primo Levi identifies as “another, vaster shame, the shame of the world” in The Drowned and the Saved, trans. Raymond Rosenthal (London: Abacus, 2013), pp. 91-2. It is significant to the relation of genocide to individuation that Levi here insists that those who feel “the shame of the world”  were those who refused “to become islands.”

[x] Hiba Abu Nada, “Seven Skies for the Homeland”, trans. Huda Fakhreddine, at https://wordswithoutborders.org/read/article/2024-01/pull-yourself-together-and-seven-skies-of-homeland-hiba-abu-nada-huda-fakhreddine/ Abu Nada’s “narrow corridor” resonates with the “narrow time” in which Samera Esmeir understands Palestinian life to be lived “before the future” in her ongoing and forthcoming work on the logic of “obliteration” that exceeds genocide, Meanwhile, Palestine.

Featured image: Mustafa Hassona/Anadolu via Getty Images. Courtesy of Amnesty International.

David Lloyd