In the dim-lit halls of Westminster, where the echoes of empire still whisper through the corridors of power, a tribunal convened last week—not one sanctioned by the state, but birthed from the unyielding resolve of those who refuse to let history's horrors repeat unchecked. Hosted by Jeremy Corbyn, the indomitable advocate for Palestinian rights now forging a new left-wing path in the UK, this "Gaza Tribunal" unfolded over two days, culminating in a chorus of voices from UN specialists, survivors of the genocide, and former diplomats like Mark Smith, who resigned in protest over Britain's arms sales to Israel.
It was here, amid the stark contrast of global outrage and governmental inertia, that Professor Ralph Wilde, a towering figure in international law, delivered a speech that cut through the fog of diplomatic doublespeak like a blade through flesh. His words weren't mere academic musings; they were a damning indictment, a call to awaken the conscience of the world. And at its core? The unforgivable abandonment by all 153 signatories to the Genocide Convention of their solemn oath to prevent genocide—not just punish it after the fact, but to halt it in its tracks.
Wilde, a professor at University College London with a resume that reads like a roadmap of Palestinian legal advocacy, has stood before the International Court of Justice (ICJ) representing the League of Arab States, and Bolivia. Last year, he argued successfully that Israel's occupation of the Palestinian territories—the Gaza Strip, West Bank, and East Jerusalem—is not just abusive in execution, but illegal in its very essence. The ICJ, in a landmark advisory opinion echoed by the UN General Assembly, affirmed this: Israel's presence violates the Palestinian right to self-determination and the prohibition on annexing territory by force. It must end "as rapidly as possible." This isn't hyperbole; it's law, etched in the annals of international jurisprudence.
But Wilde's provocation goes deeper, piercing the veil of selective outrage that dominates Western discourse. Even if Israel weren't committing genocide—and let's be clear, the evidence mounts daily that it is—the occupation itself is a foundational breach. Yet, in the face of this, states like the UK, the US, and their allies persist in a charade of partial measures: condemning settlement expansions while arming the occupier, criticizing hospital bombings while flying surveillance planes over Gaza. Wilde dismantles this hypocrisy with surgical precision. "Everything it [Israel] does there is illegal," he declared, "not just its abusive and genocidal treatment of the Palestinian people." This includes barring entry to aid workers, journalists, and protectors—acts that sustain the machinery of death.
Here's the gut-wrenching truth Wilde lays bare: All states, bound by the ICJ's rulings, bear "special legal obligations" to suppress these violations. Not optional gestures, but mandatory actions. First, take every positive step to end the illegal presence—full-spectrum sanctions against Israel and its enablers. Second, refuse to recognize the occupation as lawful, rejecting Israel's self-defense justifications as baseless fig leaves for annexation. Third, withhold all aid or assistance that maintains this illegality, regardless of intent. The ties between "Israel proper" and the occupied territories—economic, military, cultural—are so intertwined that any support inevitably props up the occupation. Thus, Wilde argues, nothing short of a complete trade embargo and arms halt will suffice. Partial embargoes on settlement goods? Tokenism. Intelligence sharing? Complicity.
This framework isn't abstract; it's the linchpin connecting the Genocide Convention's promise to the blood-soaked reality in Gaza. Signed by 153 nations after the Holocaust's ashes had barely cooled, the Convention mandates not just punishment, but prevention. Article I is unequivocal: States "undertake to prevent and to punish" genocide. Yet, as Wilde's speech underscores, these nations are derelict in their duty. By failing to address the occupation's root illegality, they enable the "structural system of widespread and systemic oppression" that UN Special Rapporteur Francesca Albanese described at the tribunal as having "turned genocidal." They arm the perpetrator, trade with the oppressor, and sanction the truth-tellers instead.
Contextualize this with the latest developments, and the betrayal sharpens into focus. Just days ago, on September 5, 2025, UN Human Rights Chief Volker Türk blasted US sanctions against Palestinian NGOs like Al-Haq, the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights (PCHR), and Al-Mezan—groups Wilde himself has advised. These organizations, vital in documenting Israel's atrocities and aiding ICC investigations, were targeted by US Secretary of State Marco Rubio for daring to pursue accountability without Israel's "consent." Türk called it "unacceptable," urging immediate revocation, praising their "vital human rights work" amid a genocide that has claimed tens of thousands of lives. This isn't protection; it's punishment for exposing the unexposable.
Meanwhile, in the UK, Corbyn's tribunal exposed the rot at home. Despite surging public sympathy—thousands marched for Palestine across Britain last weekend—the government under Keir Starmer blocks inquiries into its own complicity. Corbyn's June bill for an independent probe into UK arms supplies, surveillance flights, and RAF base usage was quashed by Labour. Panelists like Labour MP Richard Burgon minced no words: The UK is complicit through arms, political green lights, and failure to wield sanctions as it does against Russia.
Even as the UK condemns Israel's onslaught and mulls recognizing Palestine at the UN later this month, it sustains diplomatic ties—Israeli Prime Minister Isaac Herzog visits next week—and supplies F-35 components that rain death on hospitals and schools. "If the government won’t organise a public open inquiry," Corbyn thundered, "it remains for us to do it."
Albanese, speaking at the event, stopped short of direct complicity charges but warned that states like the UK have been "on notice for decades" and failed to act. Ben Jamal of the Palestine Solidarity Campaign noted a "fundamental shift in public opinion," yet governments remain unmoved, isolating Israel in the court of humanity while bolstering it in the halls of power.
Wilde's closing salvo is perhaps the most provocative: Israel has no sovereign right in the OPT, so states can—and must—seek Palestinian consent to deploy protective forces, escorting aid without UN endorsement if needed. This isn't "humanitarian intervention" against a sovereign; it's lawful action against an illegal occupier. Imagine: British or American troops not bombing, but shielding Palestinians, fulfilling the Genocide Convention's preventive mandate.
Yet, the 153 signatories dither. They convene summits, issue statements, but withhold the embargoes, sanctions, and boycotts that could starve the beast. In this abandonment lies a profound betrayal—not just of Palestinians, but of humanity's post-Holocaust vow. As Gaza's children are buried under rubble, as survivors testify to unspeakable horrors, Wilde's words haunt: The time for "partial, selective, tokenistic" gestures is over.
Prevention demands action, comprehensive and unflinching. Will these nations honor their oath, or will history judge them as accomplices to the very evil they swore to eradicate? The tribunal in Westminster wasn't just an event; it was a mirror, reflecting our collective shame.
It's time to shatter the silence—and the complicity—with truth's unyielding force.
