Since October 7, 2023, Israeli cabinet ministers, political figures, military officers and media pundits have openly and endlessly incited for the destruction of Gaza and its Palestinian inhabitants. Already by December 2023, South Africa had compiled an extensive record of these statements for its submission to the International Court of Justice (ICJ) alleging that Israel intended to perpetrate genocide in the Palestinian enclave.
Yet as the list of inflammatory statements grew, and the Israeli leadership refused to articulate a post-war vision that precluded this ghastly outcome, they also spoke to international audiences in terms that highlighted the narrower military aims of defeating Hamas and rescuing Israeli captives. This gave overseas supporters the cover to ignore the more extreme rhetoric.
Meanwhile, Israel has inflicted levels of death, destruction and deprivation that could not possibly be justified by military necessity. Gaza, populated for millennia, has been reduced to rubble and ash. Residential neighborhoods, schools, universities, libraries, hospitals, businesses, cultural and historical sites, have been obliterated. While no proper accounting is yet possible under siege conditions, at least 55,000 people are presumed dead—including 18,000 children—and hundreds of thousands wounded, with almost no medical care available. Satellite images today reveal a wasteland reminiscent of what the deputy speaker of Israel’s parliament, said was the country’s “one common goal” after October 7, 2023: “erasing the Gaza Strip from the face of the earth.”
While Israeli leaders don’t need to admit to carrying out a genocide to be guilty of the crime, in recent months they have stopped pretending otherwise. Indeed, since Donald Trump returned to the White House in January, there has been a distinct shift in Israeli messaging. After Trump suggested in February that the U.S. should take control of Gaza and redevelop it into a “riviera” without Palestinians, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu ran with the idea, using it as political cover to declare Gaza uninhabitable and call for the permanent resettlement of its surviving population outside the territory under the “Trump plan.”
In March, Israel resumed its ferocious aerial bombardment, breaking a two-month ceasefire, killing and maiming thousands more and imposing a total blockade on food and clean water that has generated starvation conditions throughout Gaza. Then, in early May, Israel’s security cabinet unveiled a plan to mobilize tens of thousands of additional soldiers to “conquer” Gaza, seize territory and expel its residents.
Netanyahu described the operation as Israel’s “concluding moves,” the purpose of which was to ensure that “Gazans choose to emigrate outside the Strip.” Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich declared in early May that in six months, Gaza would cease to exist. The surviving population, he added, would be herded into a single “humanitarian zone” and—broken by despair—would depart, “understanding that there is no hope and nothing to look for in Gaza.”
Clear Intentions
Such statements can no longer be dismissed as the emotional outbursts and vengeful rhetoric of a grieving society. Nineteen months into Israel’s campaign to liquidate Gaza, it is now clear to all that they reflect a strategic logic and long-term vision.
Josep Borrell, the EU’s former foreign policy chief, has called these statements “clear declarations of genocidal intent,” noting that “seldom have I heard the leader of a state so clearly outline a plan that fits the legal definition of genocide.”
According to the 1948 Genocide Convention, that definition includes acts committed with the “intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group,” such as killing members of the group or imposing conditions intended to bring about their physical destruction. When Israeli officials speak openly of rendering Gaza permanently unlivable to induce a mass exodus, they are describing exactly such a scenario.
So, what are the consequences of this admission? Under international law, the prohibition of genocide is a jus cogens norm—binding on all states without exception. There is a universal obligation to prevent genocide and to ensure accountability. In January 2024, the ICJ found that Israel was at risk of perpetrating a genocide and must take provisional measures to avoid committing the crime. With its subsequent actions, Israel has made a mockery of that order.
In July 2024, the ICJ ruled in a separate case that Israel’s occupation of the Palestinian territories was illegal and must end. In November, the International Criminal Court (ICC) issued arrest warrants for Netanyahu and former Defense Minister Yoav Gallant on charges related to war crimes and crimes against humanity.
Yet the response from the international community has been negligible. While some countries like Colombia and South Africa have taken steps to cut relations and hold Israel accountable, most—including Arab states with formal ties to Israel—have done little beyond issue meaningless condemnations. Despite the ICC warrants, Netanyahu and other Israeli officials have since traveled freely to the U.S. and parts of Europe. Some ICC member states, including Belgium, have hesitated to confirm that they would enforce the warrants.
This paralysis is due in large part to the structural weakness of international courts, which rely on member states for enforcement. As long as the U.S. provides Israel with unwavering support, accountability will remain hostage to realpolitik, pushing the international legal order to the brink of collapse.
Few countries want to risk becoming the object of Washington’s retaliation. U.S. government officials have been clear about how they will respond to courts and countries that enforce the arrest warrants of Israeli officials, threatening: “target Israel and we will target you.” In February, Trump imposed sanctions on ICC staff, leading to the freezing of ICC prosecutor Karim Khan’s bank and email accounts.
No Hiding Genocide
Such strong-arm tactics may preserve impunity in the short term. But they cannot save Israel from severe reputational fallout and its long-term consequences. In an age of smartphone documentation and instant accessibility, Israel’s actions in Gaza have been digitally captured, disseminated and etched into the global consciousness. In the words of Israeli-British historian Avi Shlaim, “Israel has made itself an international pariah by its own hand.” No public relations campaign can erase the human toll and the mountain of permanent visual evidence. Israel is now becoming synonymous with the Gaza genocide.
The immediate impact is clear from global public opinion polls. According to the 2025 Democracy Perception Index, Israel now ranks as the most negatively viewed country in the world. Even in the U.S., sentiment is changing rapidly. A Pew Research poll in March found that 53% of Americans have a negative view of Israel, including 69% of Democrats and half of Republicans under 50. That represents a sharp increase from recent years, and one that cuts across age and party lines.
This growing discontent has triggered a surge in censorship and the repression of dissent, both in the U.S. and in Europe. The gap between elite policy and public sentiment is so wide that managing it now demands extraordinary measures. Israel’s dependency on the U.S. is not just military or financial—it is diplomatic and existential. A sustained erosion of public support in the West would jeopardize Israel’s protective umbrella within the international system.
Divisions within the American Jewish community are also deepening. An increasing number are uncomfortable with Israel’s claim to speak and act on behalf of Jews worldwide, especially in the Gaza context. The reflexive invocation of antisemitism to silence criticism of Israeli policy has begun to lose its potency, which would be a loss in the fight against genuine antisemitism. More troublingly, some fear that the scale of destruction in Gaza could reshape public perceptions of Jewish historical suffering—including the legacy of the Holocaust.
With international legal processes hamstrung by American power, civil society from Chile to Thailand is already activating domestic mechanisms to pursue accountability for Israeli officials who enter their jurisdictions. The reputational stain could harm Israelis’ day-to-day interactions, from business activity to student and cultural exchanges and tourism.
As Israel’s war of annihilation rumbles on in Gaza, there are even signs of fractures with its closest non-U.S. allies. On May 20, the United Kingdom, France, and Canada warned that they would impose sanctions if Israel continued to block humanitarian aid and escalate its military action in Gaza. Germany and Italy have issued statements of exasperation. Some individuals in the international halls of power and the media are abandoning ship.
Yet stopping the carnage and dismantling Israeli impunity will be neither swift nor easy. Israel’s defenders in the West have shown extraordinary determination to protect it from consequences—undermining international law, institutions, academic freedom and even their own democratic norms in the process. Increasingly, far-right movements—as well as the Trump administration—have weaponized support for Israel and accusations of antisemitism as tools to advance broader illiberal agendas.
But by acknowledging its intentions, Israel has forced the world to confront a moral and legal emergency that can no longer be obscured by euphemism or diplomatic evasion. Israel’s genocidal campaign in Gaza has exposed not only the brutality of its military doctrine, but also the fragility of the international legal order—largely established in the wake of the Holocaust—meant to prevent such atrocities. Whether or not global institutions rise to the occasion to stop it, the memory of this crime—and the complicity of those who enabled it—will endure. That makes escaping accountability all the more difficult for Israel in the long run.
