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The state on trial

A timeline of the cancellation of the Palestine Congress in Berlin.

  • May 10 2024
  • Elisa Fuenzalida & Khalil Talhaoui
    Elisa Fuenzalida is online editor of Arts of the Working Class. She has directed research projects such as El futuro era tu cuerpo, Ensamblajes del Cuidado and Afectos en Re-existencia. She founded and co-curated the Cátedra Decolonial Anibal Quijano at the Museo Reina Sofía between 2018 and 2023.

    Khalil Talhaoui is a security researcher, consultant and doctoral student specializing in security, conflict, and human rights studies at the University of Exeter

“How can accountability be established when perpetrators define the law and the crime?” 

Ayça Çubukçu, in: For the Love of Humanity: The World Tribunal on Iraq, 2018

 

In the pursuit of justice, many turn their gaze towards established institutions – the courts, tribunals, and legal fora. Yet, these are not necessarily bastions of justice, but rather structures that maintain existing power dynamics. They are not infallible, but are influenced by the individuals within them and the societal biases they carry. 

Justice, however, is not confined to these traditional legal mechanisms. There are alternative avenues – e.g. civil society fora, political fora, remembrance and cultural organizations, and independent media outlets. These spaces provide platforms for voices that are often silenced, and for evidence that is frequently overlooked, as well as for justice that is regularly denied. Activists find themselves navigating these spaces armed with evidence that challenges the status quo. Yet they face opposition, not just from the institutions, but also from politicians who resort to smear tactics. These politicians attack the activists’ reputations and credentials while choosing to ignore the evidence presented [1]. It is in these moments that the shortcomings of traditional processes become glaringly apparent, as they often fail to deliver the accountability and justice that victims and their advocates seek. 

Over the past century, citizen tribunals and civil investigation processes have risen in response to institutional failures and the demand for accountability for violations of international law and human rights. These processes span from community forms of evaluation and implementation of clarification processes and restorative justice to paradigmatic cases such as the Russell Tribunal [2] and the Iraq Tribunal. They challenge state-centered paradigms and contribute to the establishment and reinforcement of international legal and judicial obligations. 

The Palestine Congress, organized under the motto “We Accuse!” by the Revolutionäre Linke, Vereinigte Palästinensische Nationalkomitee, Jewish Voice for a Just Peace in the Middle East, Gruppe ArbeiterInnenmacht and later DiEM25 [3], was set to enrich this tradition. Although the congress was supported by real evidence and witnesses, it wasn't legally binding. The aim was to publicize and debate Germany’s role, both in the history of the occupation of Palestinian land, and in the escalation of violence over the past six months, in an effort to demand effective sanctions and reparations for the Palestinian people, and to open humanitarian corridors, as well as the resumption of UNRWA funding [4]. A specific dimension of the event was focused on the criminalization, repression, and censorship of the pro-Palestine movement in Germany. This would aim to address everything from the police repression and hyper-surveillance to which the movement has been subjected, to the cancellations and media blackout [5] around what journalists are coerced into describe as “alleged” war crimes [6].

However, in a bitter twist of irony, the congress ultimately became a living testament to the very issues it sought to spotlight. Since it was announced it faced a barrage of obstacles that were not grounded in any legal basis. From the freezing of Jewish Voice's bank account to the sudden reduction of the forum’s capacity from one thousand to two hundred and fifty - then to one hundred and fifty - to the obstruction of the press in performing their professional role, to the definitive abortion of the congress just minutes after its commencement. According to the organizer of the congress, the lawyer Nadija Samour, the German government’s decision to deny entry to key speakers, banning them even from engaging with audiences in Germany via digital platforms such as Zoom, then forbidding any form of substitution for the congress to take place. This repression also involved the deployment of an excessive police presence, calling the fundamental democratic right of people to voice accusations and pursue accountability at risk. These events have thrust the precarious state of democratic rights and freedoms in Germany into the spotlight [7]. A serious question therefore arises: for whom does democracy function in this country? 

 

fig.1

 

9.35 am

From the corner of the street, we can already see groups of cops gathering and dispersing like ants around the door of the venue that hosts the conference. Nestled on the opposite corner, a truck from CDU-Fraktion Berlin displays a banner on a blue background that reads in lowercase letters: kein-platz-für-antisemitismus (no place for anti-Semitism). 

A queue has already formed at the door. The ratio of police officers to journalists is roughly 4 to 1. After a wait of more than twenty minutes, we sense that the press conference has begun. We knock on the door and are informed that the police have indicated that the capacity has already been exceeded. Our press registration, completed a month ago, is rendered useless. It was clear to us that the press blockade was a political decision. The CDU truck has turned around; a banner on the other side clarifies: In Berlin ist auch Platz für Shalom aleichem und Salam aleikum. Nicht für Antisemitismus (In Berlin there is a place both for Shalom aleichem and Salam aleikum. Not for anti-Semitism). Assuming that if the situation at the press conference is already impossible, the tension at the congress is surely greater, we head there two hours ahead of the official opening time.

 

11.00 am

No need to check the GPS; a long line of riot police trucks guides us towards the congress venue. The police deployment is so extensive that it includes officers from Berlin, Nordrhein-Westfalen, Hamburg, and Mecklenburg-Vorpommern. Official reports later confirmed that this deployment included 900 officers just for Friday, and further 2500 for the entirety of the event.

 A junior officer has taken control of the entrance gate, along with two other officers. We indicate that we are registered press, but he refuses to let us pass, using a provocative, aggressive, and challenging tone. After speaking with a higher-ranking officer, we head to the back door. Right before our eyes, the police allow Israeli journalists and mainstream media to pass. Later, the organization would clarify that none of these reporters were previously registered for the event.

Nearly an hour has passed, and other independent journalists are gathering at the door, along with Mera25 [8] volunteers and the general public. Even elderly people who have appointments for medical consultations taking place in the same building are not allowed entry. Laughter erupts when Yuval Gal, a member of the BIJ1 party in the Netherlands and a scheduled speaker for the day, is held at the door. A voice is heard among the agitated murmuring: “This is starting to look like the Qalandia checkpoint” (the main checkpoint between the Northern West Bank and Jerusalem).

A colleague, veteran of New York Public Radio with experience covering conflicts in the Middle East, expresses outrage at the humiliating and rude treatment the police officers dispense to journalists who are not individually to their liking. 

 

1.00 pm

 

fig.2

 

The police continue to block the passage of the press, registered volunteers, and hundreds of ticket holders, creating an atmosphere of escalating tension, congestion, and chaos that starkly contradicts their claims that maintaining order and security were the reason for obstructing the normal progress of the event. The queue to the conference morphs into a protest. Many of the people knew that they would not get in, but as witnesses to this spectacle of violence, nevertheless stayed and supported the conference from the street. A member of the organization of the congress steps out to confirm this suspicion. Given the size and restiveness of the crowd, he is forced to shout out that no more than two hundred and fifty people will be allowed in.

Heightening the absurdity, the same police officers citing security reasons to detain us moments ago are now encouraging us to jump over a metal fence to gain entry. Perplexed, we do so. On the other side of the entrance, there are at least eighty more police officers. We climb the stairs towards the conference room and find ourselves facing five police officers blocking the entrance. We push our way through them and finally, we are inside.

The scene is disconcerting. In a corner at the back of the room, a bunch of journalists who apparently entered hours earlier are standing. Audience chairs are completely vacant. The organizers look focused and tense; the volunteers look confused. The windows are closed and the air feels heavy. The setting is the complete opposite of a safe space. We feel skeptical, and concerned. Even the bathroom is surrounded by a police cordon. 

This design is intricate and purposeful. Fatigue is a predictable (and intended) consequence, a calculated outcome. Fear is not an incidental byproduct, but an end in itself. Anger would not be unforeseeable, but rather an engineered outcome. Each element is meticulously planned and executed, contributing to a chaos that is far from spontaneous. As the police continued to advance increasingly strange arguments to forestall the first conference (for example, the distance between the seats, most of which are empty), we decide to talk to some of the participants.

Abdallah Abdelhadi, who is scheduled to close the congress on Sunday, is holding his newborn in his arms as he states:

I am a Palestinian who lived in Gaza for an extended period. My family remains there, and we have suffered significant losses, including the destruction of our home. Given these experiences, silence is not an option for me. The congress represents a significant act of resistance. We refuse to succumb to external pressures, be it German repression or the atrocities committed by Israelis. The current situation did not arise in isolation; it is deeply rooted in history and the Palestinian struggle. Understanding this context is crucial to comprehend what Palestinians aspire to. Our objective is straightforward: we seek liberation, followed by freedom. We are committed to this cause and will not cease our efforts until our goal is realized.

The journalist Hebh Jamal adds:

The structure of the conference is extremely prevalent. Today's theme refers to the past, but goes beyond it. It’s not 76 years disconnected from what is happening today. The same rhetoric that took place during the Nakba in 1948 is the rhetoric taking place today. It was a genocide then, and it’s a genocide now

As we are interviewing her, a member of the organization indicates that one of the speakers at the conference is being held at airport security and being refused entry. It is Doctor Ghassan Abu Sittah, plastic and reconstructive surgeon who operated for forty-three days during November of 2023 at al-Ahli Arab and Dar al-Shifa hospitals in Gaza. He is a key witness at the International Criminal Court (ICC) and the rector of Glasgow University. 

 According to Wieland Hoban, chairman of Jewish Voice:

There have been numerous attempts by state elements to prevent this congress from proceeding. Calls for a ban on the conference were made by politicians and others, despite knowing that such a ban would not be legal, because there's still enough democracy in Germany to prevent conferences simply being banned because they don’t correspond to the politics of the government.

Unable to impose a total ban, they sought alternative ways to hinder or complicate the event. For instance, our organizations funds for the conference, held in a state-owned bank, were frozen. However, we managed to circumvent this obstacle through other sources, rendering their attempt unsuccessful.

There were also efforts to intimidate those associated with the conference, including the venue’s proprietor. He was subjected to what could be termed “psychological warfare”. The police intimidation included severe threats about his professional future, suggesting he would never be able to host events here again. 

We, as taxpayers, fund the police to serve and protect, but instead, we witness them behaving like a mafia. They use intimidation and cite dubious bureaucratic reasons for restrictions, such as fire regulations at a venue that has been hosting large-scale events for years. Coincidentally, today there’s a sudden issue with the fire hazard regulations.

 

fig. 3

 

4.00 pm

We’re ushered to our seats as the congress is finally set to begin.  We represent a fraction of the expected 250 attendees. The room is dominated by police officers; their numbers dwarf ours. We settle in the second row, behind the technicians managing the projection. The first speech isn’t a welcome or an introduction, but a police-dictated code of conduct, read out twice in Arabic and once in English. Confusion ripples through the room, manifesting as a low murmur of discontent.

Maintaining focus on the conference table is a challenge as police officers continue their restless pacing. Their parallel conversations are a constant distraction. Hebh Jamal begins her address around 16:20. As she concludes, a pre-recorded presentation by the engineer Salman Abu Sittah begins. It focuses on the Palestinians’s right of return. But, barely three minutes in, a police officer strides up to us. Without a word, an agent slams the laptop shut, abruptly cutting off the projection. People in the audience do not know what is going on. Many in the audience who are unfamiliar with German or English are left bewildered, struggling to comprehend the unfolding situation. The police insistently demand the tech team to “cut the music” meaning the sound of the video, which continues despite the computer being closed. The unspoken threat in the agent’s demeanor underscores the friction between the event’s intent and the authorities’ heavy-handed tactics. 

Dozens of police officers rush to form a wall in front of the stage, making it impossible to know what is happening behind them. An organizer can be heard clamoring from the other side of the wall saying that the agents are trying to snatch the microphones from them. Another police officer hastily announces that the conference has ended. A lone voice rises above the escalating din chanting “no violence” in a steady rhythm. Appeals for calm and restraint echo through the crowd, a stark contrast to the growing unrest. Some attendees, having exchanged their passports for translation devices - a common practice at conferences - now find themselves questioning whether they will retrieve them before the impending police intervention. Multiple voices implore the crowd to sit still and maintain composure, a request that seems increasingly unrealistic given the swelling police presence, and the language barrier complicating matters. Calls for order, in both English and German, punctuate the air, but the message seems lost in the tumult. Despite the chaos, there are sporadic pleas from the organizers to continue with the congress.

 

4.30 pm (approx.)

The lights and electricity are cut, plunging the venue into darkness. A wave of panic sweeps through the crowd as confusion sets in. Some of the organizers swiftly confront the police, voicing their concerns about the unsafe conditions that are rapidly being created. Meanwhile, someone from our group is engaged in a hurried conversation with the technicians, attempting to decipher what could possibly have been said to trigger such a ferocious response. Simultaneously, another one of us is capturing the precise moment when the police force their way into the electricity room. The police then address the crowd, issuing their first official warning. This is delivered solely in German, announcing the cancellation of the conference.

This oral directive, devoid of any written documentation, marks an instance where bureaucracy and elusive orality intertwine within the German repressive system. The lack of a tangible, written directive only adds to the uncertainty and tension permeating the atmosphere.

 

fig. 4

 

5.00 pm

The organizers and volunteers commence the clean-up process. Meanwhile, the police instruct us to vacate the premises. As we retreat from the building, we witness the unfolding arrest of a member of Jewish Voice, Udi Raz, an event that has become almost canonical at this point. We traverse several streets until the police vans are no longer in sight.

In the landscape of collective memory, Germany’s historical guilt, anchored in the exceptionalism of the Holocaust [9] , is not a terminal point but rather a waypoint in an unfinished journey. According to the psychiatrist Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross [10], the process of grief consists of five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. A sixth stage, meaning or sense-making, was later added by Dr. David Kessler [11]. The German nation appears to have stalled at the threshold of this phase [12]. This failure to fully comprehend and integrate the enormity of the crimes perpetrated against Jews, Roma, Communists and sexual minorities continues to have far-reaching implications.

The political (and economic) profit that can be harvested from the unresolved remorse and the paralyzing fear of repeating past atrocities has gone unnoticed by the German state, as today it redirects potent historically informed emotions against Arabs, Muslims, and particularly Palestinians. 

 

fig. 5

 

As “Jewish Currents” points out in the article Bad Memory:

Germany’s philosemitism is revealed as another vehicle for supremacy, preferable precisely because of its anti-racist veneer. Germany’s embrace of the Jewish community within its borders, with or without the participation of Jews, secures the German self-image as a moral arbiter while casting the country’s guilt onto Arabs and Muslims. This dynamic also plays out on an international level, where Germany’s raison d’etat is linked to the protection of the Jewish state.

What we witnessed at the Palestinian Congress were these gaps of meaning, not the end of  “democracy” but the spectacle of its embedded demise. As the Lebanese anthropologist Ghassan Hage has observed: 

All European states are egalitarian and also built on white supremacy, and sometimes this supremacism flashes out of them and hits you. And it would be wrong to say ‘There is no democracy, there is only racism’. Because both coexist. It is true that there is democracy, and it is true that a lot of migrants enjoy this. But then you get that flash of racism that reminds you that it’s not just that. The state is also a white supremacist state that can put you down and take away your rights. It is visible now, regarding citizenship, which used to be sacrosanct. Now, they can take it away from you. [13] 

Like Giorgio Aganbem, Hague understands that fascism is embedded in democratic institutions. Meanwhile, others have warned us of the unavoidable return of the so-called “Imperial Boomerang”. This notion, developed first by Aimé Césaire and Hannah Arendt, regards how fascism emerged as a result of the return of repressive practices in colonial territories to the respective European metropoles, was later popularized by Michel Foucault, He develops the idea in his talk Society Must Be Defended at the Collège de France in 1976:

A whole series of colonial models was brought back to the West, and the result was that the West could practice something resembling colonization, or an internal colonialism.

 

Aftermath 

After the cancellation of the Palestine Congress, we had the chance to speak with the anti-Zionist Jewish activist and filmmaker Dror Dayan, one of the speakers that didn't have the chance to talk in the Congress. Dayan said the following in our interview:

What happened yesterday is not exceptional; German police violence looks like that. We have seen this in many demonstrations in the last six months, and, of course, before that. It shows why what could have happened yesterday was so important. The German ruling class is terrified of being confronted publicly about how their support of Zionism has nothing to do with the Holocaust and has everything to do with capital, German imperialism, and German interests in the Middle East. What they also read as threatening is that they couldn’t frame the Congress as a terrorist, anti-Semitic, Islamist, or other racist tropes they use, as it was a wide, anti-sectarian coalition of people from different beliefs, places, and identities. Solidarity is what scares the ruling class the most, and they reacted as expected. 

Indeed, the forced shutdown of the congress did not teach us anything new about the obvious, which is that Western democracy quickly turns into a farce when the enemy within is named and targeted (be that enemy workers, Communists, Jews, Muslims, POCs, or Palestinians). Excuses such as that “potential antisemitic remarks and violence” were commonly presented by the police and the mainstream media in the aftermath of the chaos. This “pre-crime” mindset owes more to Philip K. Dick’s “Minority Report” than actual reportage [14]. Pre-crime reasoning was used to justify the cancellation upon the speech of the engineer Salman Abu Sittah, who was constantly misidentified, both by the police and the mainstream media, who confused him with Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah. While Salman Abu Sittah’s pre-recorded video intervention was interrupted, it was confirmed that Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah was being held in the Berlin airport and banned from entering Germany. In the demonstration against this ban, in front of the German embassy in London, Dr. Abu Sittah declared: The German state behaved like an accomplice and tried to silence the voices of the witnesses. They are no different than any common gang. One does the killing, the other does the burial and the other gets rid of the evidence [15].

The entry ban on Dr. Abu Sittah has recently extended to France, which is far from surprising, considering how shamelessly the state of exception was implemented there in the wake of social upheavals, and the fact that citizenship can now be revoked, as Hague warns. However, Germany shows us that the state of exception is already embedded in its democracy. The blocking of the right of assembly, notified only by oral means and with no sustainable legal grounds, the banning of the entrance to country for no specific reason but based on speculation about what someone might say, the criminalization of Arabic and Gaelic languages, the wearing a kuffiya at the Brandenburger Tor, the abuses are unfolding at such pace that what is allowed one minute can become illegal the next.

The Berlin-based Palestinian-Syrian-Swedish poet Ghayath Almadhoun, who has mastered the art of dark-humor as a collective coping mechanism notes:

“I know how to fight a dictatorship but I don't know how to defend myself from democracy.”

But we are learning. As we write these lines, one by one these injustices are being contested. The Berlin District Court has again ruled in favor of Oyoun, against the “Tagesspiegel”, and has prohibited the claim of “anti-Semitic statements” in connection to the venue. Yanis Varoufakis is also taking the German authorities to court for violation of his basic rights and defamation, indicating his intention to appeal, if need be, to the European courts. In parallel, separately, both Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah and the Jüdische Stimme are preparing to take the responsible state German institutions to court. Yesterday, the  Dutch Ministry of Foreign Affairs confirmed that they will be also applying the entry ban to  Dr. Abu Sittah, who has been invited by The Rights Forum to give a conference in Amsterdam. Rights Forum, one of the civil organizations that, together with Oxfam, Novib, and Pax Nederland, took the Dutch state to the Hague Tribunal on the basis of their import of F-35 fighter jet parts to Israel, and won[16],  so it wouldn't be surprising if they decide to sue the dutch state in this regard too. And there is more yet to come on the legal front. 

 

 

fig. 6

Together with the Palestinian Center for Human Rights, the Al-Mezan Center for Human Rights, and the Ramallah-based human rights organization, Al-Haq, the ECCHR (International Crimes and Accountability Program of the European Center for Constitutional and Human Rights[17] filed a lawsuit to compel the court to issue an interim measure to suspend certain export licenses issued by the German government, particularly those for anti-tank weapons [18]. The German legal system, unlike its Dutch counterpart, does not permit collective action lawsuits, forcing the legal team to represent individual clients who are directly affected by these arms shipments. The claimants assert that Germany is breaching international law by continuing weapon exports, in violation of ratified treaties such as the Genocide Convention, the International Arms Trade Treaty, and the Geneva Conventions. An initial court decision is expected in the next few weeks. If the ruling is not in their favor, they are prepared to appeal.

In a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy, the repressive tactics of the German Federal Government have done nothing but turn the symbolic motto of the Palestine Congress, “We Accuse!”, into a concrete legal reality. The wave of legal actions by citizens and civil organizations against the complicities of governments and states involved in the occupation of Gaza is a significant development, and a shift in the dynamics of power and accountability. They are not isolated tactics but intertwined with the disruptive tactics of social movements calling for divestment and accountability through protest camps and other means of direct action. It is also a testament on the growing capacity of the people to see how the boundaries between profit and accountability that mask economic and material interests as moral stances are being deliberately blurred, and a clear indication that social movements are more mature, intersectional, informed, prepared, interconnected, and determined than ever before in the last decades. 

\\

 

In addition, it was enriched by the testimonies of individuals affiliated with the organization of the Palestine Congress. For security reasons, we have chosen to withhold their names.



  • FOOTNOTES

     

    [1] As depicted by the journalist Hebh Jamal in the only conference that took place in the Congress.

    [2] The Russell Tribunal, also known as the International War Crimes Tribunal, or the Russell-Sartre Tribunal, was an independent international tribunal of opinion. It was established in 1966 by the British philosopher and mathematician Bertrand Russell and the French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre. The tribunal investigated and evaluated the United States’s intervention in Vietnam. Although it had no legal power to enforce its conclusions, its goal was to influence public opinion and promote changes in policy and legislation. The Russell Tribunal has been used as a model for other tribunals of opinion on various issues, including human rights in psychiatry, human rights in Latin America, the Israel-Palestine conflict, and, most recently, the disputed territory of Jammu and Kashmir. Source: www.russfound.org

    [3] Because of the extreme levels of repression the smaller/ palestinian organizations couldn't show their face as openly.

    [4] Subsequently reestablished

    [5] Another example is the ban of international journalists in Gaza, now including Al Jazeera.  

    [6] While the International Court of Justice (ICJ) is still in the process of its investigation, and official recognition of these acts as war crimes is yet to be declared, an overwhelming body of horrific visual, audiovisual evidence and eyewitness accounts keeps accumulating. This situation harks back to dark chapters in history when inhumane practices, such as slavery, were legal. It’s a sobering reminder that the legal recognition of such atrocities often trails behind the lived realities of those who are directly affected.

    [7] According to Amnesty 12 September 2023 EUR 23/7180/2023 PROTECT THE PROTEST: AGAINST BLANKET BANS OF DEMONSTRATIONS FOR THE RIGHTS OF PALESTINIANS, Amnesty International is concerned about restrictions of freedom of expression and freedom of assembly through blanket, pre-emptive bans imposed on assemblies on the occasion of Nakba Remembrance Day in Berlin and urges the Berlin state government to uphold these human rights for all.

    [8] The European Realistic Disobedience Front (Greek: Μέτωπο Ευρωπαϊκής Ρεαλιστικής Ανυπακοής), or MeRA25 (Greek: ΜέΡΑ25), is a left-wing Greek political party founded in 2018 by Yanis Varoufakis.

    [9] Recent debates on contemporary racism and national memorial cultures, instigated in part by global movements against anti-Black policing, have challenged both the historiographic assertion of the Holocaust’s unique nature as compared to other forms of racial violence, as well as the ritualization of Holocaust remembrance. Indigenous communities on colonial territories worldwide have been profoundly affected by genocidal acts. The colonization process, particularly in the Americas, led to a drastic population reduction of Indigenous peoples, not merely as a consequence of conflict, but as a systematic effort to destroy these communities. 

    [10] The author of the groundbreaking book on near-death studies, On Death and Dying (1969), wherein she first discussed her theory of the five stages of grief.

    [11] https://www.bbc.com/news/stories-53267505.amp

    [12]  Although some understandably argue that the blockage is in the anger phase.

    [13] Ghassan Hage. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPxN79zeTms 

    [14] In Philip Dick´s novel “The Minority Report” three mutants foresee all crime before it occurs. Plugged into a massive machine, these “precogs” allow a division of the police called Pre-crime to arrest suspects before they can commit actual crimes.

    [15] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECwQCHkEUa8 

    [16] The ruling has been appealed by the Dutch State.

    [17] ECCHR is a non-profit and independent human rights organisation based in Berlin, working to enforce, through legal means, the rights guaranteed in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and other international, regional, and national human rights legislation. It is one of the organisations that filed the joint lawsuit to try to halt Germany’s arms exports to Israel.

    [18] https://www.theguardian.com/world/2024/apr/12/germany-lawsuit-arms-sales-israel-gaza 

     

    IMAGE CREDITS

    Cover: Palestine Congress (2024). Photo: Elisa Fuenzalida. Courtesy of the author. 

    fig. 1: Palestine Congress (2024). Photo: Nikos Kanistras. Courtesy of Palestine Congress. 

    fig 2: Palestine Congress (2024). Photo: Nikos Kanistras. Courtesy of Palestine Congress. 

    fig 3: Palestine Congress (2024). Photo: Nikos Kanistras. Courtesy of Palestine Congress. 

    fig 4: Palestine Congress (2024). Photo: Elisa Fuenzalida. Courtesy of the author. 

    fig 5: Palestine Congress (2024). Photo: Nikos Kanistras. Courtesy of Palestine Congress. 

    fig. 6: Palestine Congress (2024). Photo: Nikos Kanistras. Courtesy of Palestine Congress.

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