As Palestinians mark the seventy-eighth anniversary of the Nakba, I found myself once again turning over old photographs and fragments of memory from my destroyed village, Majdal Al-Sadiq; a village erased during the creation of Israel, from which my father was expelled as an eight-year-old child.
On a day heavy with remembrance, grief, and inherited loss, I was confronted instead with yet another inflammatory article in an Israeli newspaper targeting me and several other activists.
Even on a day that symbolises one of the greatest collective traumas in Palestinian history, there was no pause, no restraint, no recognition of human pain, only more incitement, more smears, more attempts to dehumanise those who speak for Palestinian rights.
But perhaps expecting sensitivity from a propaganda machine that continues to justify mass killing and devastation in Gaza is itself misplaced. Those who normalise the destruction of entire families are hardly likely to concern themselves with the feelings of the survivors.
Accusations no longer require evidence.
It is enough to criticise the occupation, reject genocide, or question the official narrative, and suddenly you find yourself labelled “pro-Hamas”, “Muslim Brotherhood”, “extremist”, or — in its most overused and intellectually hollow form — “anti-Semitic”.
It really is that simple.
Through relentless overuse, these accusations have become little more than ready-made stamps deployed against every voice that unsettles the pro-Israel lobby and every writer who dares step beyond the boundaries of what is considered acceptable within mainstream Western discourse. It no longer matters whether the target is Islamist, left-wing, liberal, or even someone with no political affiliation whatsoever. The only real criterion is this: did they make Israel uncomfortable or not?
The greater the discomfort, the harsher the accusation.
This is why we have seen such allegations hurled indiscriminately at everyone: left-wing activists known for their ideological opposition to political Islam, journalists, academics, artists, and even Jewish critics of Israeli policy. Suddenly, everyone becomes “suspect” merely because they insist that killing civilians is a crime, or because they refuse to accept that Palestinian lives are somehow less valuable.
What is particularly striking is that the smear machine no longer even attempts to maintain the slightest appearance of professionalism or logic. A phrase taken out of context, an old statement distorted beyond recognition, or a social media post from decades ago can now be recycled into an entire campaign of political and media defamation.
I remember clearly how a statement I wrote many years ago about Sheikh Ahmed Yassin was later weaponised against me. I referred to him as a Palestinian symbol who resisted occupation despite severe illness and disability. At the time, Hamas was not even proscribed as a terrorist organisation in Britain. Yet hostile media outlets later twisted the meaning entirely, transforming the statement into supposed proof that I “admired the founder of Hamas”; as though Palestinians are expected to renounce even their own historical figures and political memory in order to earn the right to speak.
This emerged in the context of a case I brought in 2018 against the Labour Party, during my membership of the party, after it appointed an individual who had previously served in Israel’s Unit 8200 intelligence division to oversee party membership data. Rather than address the substance of the case and the legitimate concerns surrounding influence, privacy, and accountability, the entire discussion was redirected towards demonising the person who raised the issue.
That is always the modus operandi: escape the debate by criminalising the critic.
Nor does this stop with articles published in sections of the Israeli press and later recycled by supposedly reputable British media outlets.
It has become increasingly obvious that parts of the Western media now treat Israeli propaganda as ready-made copy for publication, even when it is rooted in misleading information, inflammatory narratives, or deliberate distortions of context.
Twisting facts has become an almost daily practice.
Then comes the second stage: armies of anonymous social media accounts. Fake profiles with fabricated names and images whose sole purpose is to recycle the same falsehoods, categorise individuals, and repeatedly inject disinformation into public discourse until it acquires the appearance of accepted truth.
Take, for example, the orchestrated attacks recently directed at the prominent British-Nigerian photographer Misan Harriman simply because he professionally questioned why the media ignored the story of the third victim in the Golders Green stabbing incident; a Muslim man who was also attacked by the same suspect who stabbed two Jewish victims.
He did not defend violence. He did not deny the crime. He did not target anyone on the basis of religion. He merely asked why this fact had been omitted from media coverage.
But now, even asking the question has become unacceptable.
The problem is that this inflammatory rhetoric is no longer merely about silencing pro-Palestinian voices. It is about creating a broader climate of fear. Journalists, academics, politicians, activists, and even artists are expected to fear approaching any criticism of Israel lest they wake the next morning to find themselves the target of a coordinated smear campaign.
Yet despite all the noise, these campaigns reveal something even more significant: the growing anxiety among defenders of the occupation.
For the narrative that long monopolised the image of absolute victimhood is steadily eroding in the face of the scenes emerging from Gaza, scenes of destruction, killing, and starvation documented daily before the world. Western public opinion, particularly among younger generations, no longer absorbs the Israeli narrative with the unquestioning acceptance that prevailed for decades.
That is precisely why the accusations intensify whenever the ability to persuade declines.
When the argument is lost, the labels begin.
It should be stated clearly that advocating for Palestinian rights, opposing occupation, or criticising Israeli state policies does not constitute support for attacks on civilians, nor does it imply affiliation with or representation of any proscribed organisation. These are lawful political positions protected within democratic societies and grounded in principles of international law and human rights. Attempts to deliberately erase these distinctions through guilt by association are intended not to foster debate, but to delegitimise Palestinian political expression and silence dissenting voices.
It should also go without saying, though it evidently still needs repeating, that everyone genuinely involved in solidarity work with Palestine knows that the movement supporting Palestinian rights includes Palestinians, Arabs, Jews, Europeans, Americans, and people from every ideological andreligious background. Within the Palestinian Forum in Britain, campaigns supporting prisoners and hostages, including the Red Ribbon Campaign, and solidarity actions with the Gaza Freedom Flotillas, countless people stood side by side simply because they opposed injustice, occupation, and genocide.
The defining principle was never religion or ethnicity, but moral conscience.
None of these activists target people because of their faith, nor do they support the killing or intimidation of civilians. At the same time, they remain firmly committed to the Palestinian people’s right to resist occupation through all forms recognised under international law.
In the end, none of these smear campaigns will alter the fundamental truth: criticising the State of Israel is not anti-Semitism; defending Palestine is not a crime; and standing in solidarity with a people subjected to killing and displacement is not something that requires apology or justification.
As for the ready-made labels distributed by the propaganda machine of the occupation, they have now been so thoroughly exhausted that they are steadily losing their power to frighten people or monopolise the truth.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.








