illed, and children buried beneath rubble. International humanitarian law exists precisely to prevent this. Yet when the accused is Israel—a strategic ally of the United States—the rules bend, the language softens, and accountability disappears. Let us be exact. Israel’s actions are accused of constituting war crimes and crimes against humanity. The International Court of Justice has recognized a plausible risk of genocide and ordered provisional measures to protect civilians. The International Criminal Court’s prosecutor has sought arrest warrants against senior Israeli leaders. These are not slogans or propaganda—they are outcomes of legal processes triggered by evidence and testimony. And what followed? No comprehensive sanctions. No meaningful arms embargo from self-proclaimed champions of human rights. Instead, expanded military aid, diplomatic shielding, and red-carpet invitations—as if international law were optional. The message to the Global South is unmistakable: there is one law for the powerful and another for the powerless. The United States presents itself as the custodian of democracy. Europe lectures the world on the rule of law. The United Nations repeats the phrase “never agai n.” Yet when Palestinian civilians die by the tens of thousands, these principles dissolve into press releases and procedural delays. UN agencies are defunded, delegitimized, or ignored. Vetoes replace justice. Rhetoric replaces action. This is not a failure of information. It is a failure of political will. Critics will attempt to dismiss this editorial as radical or irresponsible because it speaks plainly. Others will deflect with history, trauma, or the very real crime of antisemitism. Let us be unequivocal: antisemitism is real, dangerous, and must be confronted everywhere. But opposing mass civilian killing, collective punishment, and the systematic destruction of a people is not antisemitism—it is a moral obligation. The darkest chapters of history must never be exploited to justify new atrocities. Nazism was a singular evil and remains unequivocally condemned. Precisely for that reason, the world should recoil when any modern state acts with impunity, treats civilian lives as expendable, and bends law to power. History does not repeat itself word for word—but it judges those who refuse to learn. If democracy and human rights truly functioned as universal principles, accountability would not be selective. Allies would not enjoy immunity. Children would not be dismissed as collateral damage. Courts would not be pressured. Weapons and funding would not flow while graves multiply. What we are witnessing is not the collapse of ideals—but their exposure. Democracy without equality before the law is theater. Human rights without enforcement are myth. This newspaper will not participate in silence. Truth does not require permission. Justice does not need approval from Washington, Brussels, or any capital that chooses comfort over conscience. History is watching. And it will ask one simple question: Who stood for the law when it mattered—and who hid behind power?