From Words to Deeds: An International Force for Gaza’s Survival

​Dyab Abou Jahjah
What happened at the United Nations yesterday during Netanyahu’s speech was good, yes. That walkout sent a message of condemnation and rejection, and such a message was needed — but it was needed two years ago. It was needed in mid-October 2023, when the intent to commit genocide was already crystal clear, when Israel’s leaders were declaring their plans openly, when the massacres had already begun and the possibility of halting them before they unfolded into full-scale genocide was still real. At that moment, a decisive international stand could have made a difference. But now, two years into a genocide that has annihilated tens of thousands of lives and reduced Gaza to rubble, symbolic gestures like walking out of a speech feel hollow, insufficient, and tragically out of time. They ring as echoes in a chamber that should have been filled with urgent action, not belated symbolism.

And why is Netanyahu even there at the UN podium to begin with? Why is he granted the privilege of addressing the international community — even if in front of empty seats? The answer is as predictable as it is shameful: American protection. The United States has acted as Israel’s shield and enabler, allowing its leaders to walk unpunished, to kill with impunity, to mock the very institutions meant to guarantee peace and justice. Trump, who many once imagined might distance himself from endless wars, proved to be not only as bad as “genocide Joe” Biden, but far worse. Trump’s words and actions revealed a leader even more genocidal, more indifferent to human suffering, more openly dehumanizing of Palestinians and of anyone who dares stand in solidarity with them. His rhetoric normalized brutality and gave cover for slaughter.
But this explanation, while true, is not enough. Netanyahu is speaking in New York because he was allowed to get there. His plane was not intercepted in the skies. It was not forced to land in Madrid, or Rome, or Lisbon, or London, where international law could and should have taken its course. He speaks because his impunity is protected not only by Washington but by the collective inaction of all those states under binding obligation to either prosecute or extradite war criminals. They chose silence. They chose paralysis. They chose complicity. And so the man who presides over mass killings, over collective punishment, over the starving and bombing of children, strolls into New York and mounts a stage at the UN as though he were a statesman rather than a criminal.
The diplomats who staged that walkout should have gone further. They should not only have walked out; they should have walked up. They should have performed a citizen’s arrest against the genocidal monster poisoning the atmosphere with his words and with his very presence. International law — like any law — is not meant to be a poem we recite, a ritual of words repeated in solemn halls. If it is not enforced, it is nothing but theatre. It becomes an ornament to hypocrisy rather than a tool of justice.
And let us be clear: law alone is not enough. Law, as it stands, is not only a record of rights but also a record of obligations. International law does not merely condemn genocide; it codifies the duty to prevent it, the duty to intervene to stop it. That duty is not optional. It is binding. After two years, every legal and diplomatic attempt to halt this genocide has failed. Israel’s bombs still fall. Its snipers still fire. Its tanks still flatten homes. Its siege still strangles life. Law without enforcement is an accomplice to murder.
This genocide must be stopped by force if it cannot be stopped otherwise. The Palestinian people must be protected — not by words, not by resolutions, but by action. They must be shielded from Israeli butchers, by whatever means are necessary. This is what Colombia’s President Gustavo Petro rightly called for: a coalition of the willing, unchained from the paralysis of a UN Security Council forever vetoed by America’s blood-drenched hand, must land a massive force on the shores of Gaza. They must break the siege. They must disarm the hand of the executioner. They must end the genocide.
Will this happen? Likely not. And this — this failure to act — is complicity. Defaulting on the duty to intervene is not neutrality; it is partnership in the crime. We will not applaud statements anymore. We will not throw flowers at speeches, no matter how eloquent or well-intentioned. Words are nothing without deeds.
Only actions matter. Actions like the ICJ complaint brought by South Africa — though even there, we must press for consistency. South Africa must now also prosecute its own nationals who joined Israel’s killing machine; we have already provided their names. Actions like Spain’s arms embargo on Israel — though again, words and partial measures are not enough. Spain must also prosecute war criminals who stroll into its cities for leisure, sipping wine on Spanish soil after bathing in the blood of Gaza’s children.
Every action counts, even if it falls short. But let us not deceive ourselves: the one action that can actually stop this genocide is military intervention. The obligation is clear. The moral necessity is urgent. Anything less is complicity dressed as diplomacy.