The Red Line in The Hague Ignored One Side

Let me be clear from the start: I do not support the way Israel’s government has conducted this war. Netanyahu’s policies have been morally indefensible, from obstructing aid to the destruction of entire neighborhoods. But that’s exactly why I stayed away from The Hague today, because I believe protests should stand on principle, not mirror the same one-sidedness they claim to oppose.
Tens of thousands of protesters gathered in The Hague for a human rights march against Israel’s actions in Gaza, as reported by Dutch national broadcaster NOS. Dressed in red, they formed a symbolic ‘red line’, a visually striking protest against war and the Dutch government’s stance. But a closer look revealed what was missing: nuance, context, and a moral compass willing to face complexity on both sides.
I stayed away, not out of indifference, but because I refuse to join a movement that claims to defend human rights while doing so with glaring selectivity. A protest that stays silent on Hamas’ atrocities, ignores the Israeli hostages still held in captivity, and overlooks the resurgence of antisemitism across Europe and the Middle East is not a protest for human rights.
This resurgence has been confirmed in both a 2023 EU study, which found that Jews in the Netherlands experience above-average levels of antisemitism, and a 2025 statement by the Dutch National Coordinator for Combating Antisemitism, which reported a sharp rise in incidents since the October 7 Hamas attacks.
When such a protest loudly condemns only Israel, while omitting this broader context, it becomes a performance of principle that collapses under its own selectivity.
Selective Outrage
The march was organized by well-known groups: Amnesty International, Doctors Without Borders, and Oxfam Novib. But those who have followed their public statements in recent months know that their outrage rarely runs both ways. Hamas is barely mentioned. Israeli hostages are invisible in their campaigns.
The context in which Israel defends itself is increasingly pushed to the background, despite the devastating and tragic Palestinian death toll since October. That context includes the October 7 attack, in which 1,200 people were slaughtered. This was meticulously documented by Haaretz and supported by eyewitness accounts reported by Reuters. That complexity must remain visible, even when it makes people uncomfortable.
The same dynamic played out during the demonstration. No signs bearing the names of the remaining hostages. No minute of silence for the murdered festivalgoers of Re’im. No condemnation of Hamas’ use of hospitals or schools for military purposes.
The red line was not drawn against hostage-taking. Yet Amnesty International, often cited by these very organizations, reported that Palestinian fighters abducted 223 civilians, including 30 children, and captured 27 Israeli soldiers on October 7. According to Amnesty, these armed groups deliberately targeted civilians at kibbutzim and at the Nova festival. They took entire families and wounded individuals hostage, and even paraded bodies through the streets. The abduction, prolonged captivity, and documented abuse of hostages constitute war crimes under international law, but none of this was acknowledged. Not against the use of civilians as human shields. Only against Israel.
Silence Is Consent
Past protests in Europe and North America have shown clear signs of antisemitism. Many featured people glorifying Hamas, calls to destroy Israel, chants of “Khaibar” that celebrate violence against Jews, distorted Jewish symbols, and the slogan “From the river to the sea,” widely understood as a call for Israel’s destruction. As recently as 2025, protesters at Harvard University were filmed chanting “Long live the intifada” and “Globalize the intifada,” openly calling for violent resistance. Around the same time, student protesters at Columbia and Barnard College chanted slogans such as “Free, free Palestine,” “No more Zionist occupation,” and “Gaza is by your side,” during a rally against the expulsion of students who had disrupted a class on Israel.
While not all of these chants are inherently antisemitic, their repetition in charged, anti-Israel contexts reflects a broader rhetorical shift. Increasingly, anti-Zionism merges with hostility toward Jewish identity or statehood. None of this was acknowledged. In this narrative, antisemitism is treated as a distraction, an inconvenient charge that gets in the way of the so-called real struggle. A Jewish state, in this view, can never be a victim, only an aggressor.
That this discourse is now gaining traction in NGO statements, opinion pages, and international institutions is deeply worrying. When human rights standards are applied to every state except Israel, it fosters not peace but polarization. And when cameras focus solely on Israeli airstrikes while ignoring Hamas tunnels beneath hospitals, or the systematic indoctrination of children with hate, that is not journalism. It is propaganda.
No Blank Check for Netanyahu
As stated earlier, I condemn the actions of Prime Minister Netanyahu’s government. The way this war has been conducted, including the prolonged obstruction of humanitarian aid, the destruction of residential areas, and rhetoric that seems more focused on revenge than reconciliation, is indefensible. The starvation of Gaza’s population, the blocking of aid, and the use of military force without a clear strategy are moral failures too. When the line between military and civilian targets is repeatedly blurred, it becomes increasingly difficult to support Israel’s right to self-defense.
But this does not justify portraying Hamas as a liberation movement or ignoring the antisemitic frameworks in which this conflict is too often placed. Criticism of Israel is valid and necessary. But when that criticism becomes selective, or silently condones the other side, something is wrong with your moral compass. If you claim to stand on principle, you must have the courage to hold both sides accountable, not just the easiest one.
The Blind Spot Called Hamas
Ironically, international law and treaties were referenced throughout the protest. But it is all the more telling that no one mentioned Egypt’s role. While Israel is condemned for its military actions, Egypt keeps its Rafah border firmly shut. Palestinian civilians cannot leave Gaza, a stance Egyptian President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi explicitly defended in October 2023, stating that Egypt would reject any displacement of Palestinians into Sinai under any circumstances. And although The Guardian reported in early 2025 that the potential reopening of Rafah might signal diplomatic progress, the broader refusal to accommodate refugees remains a core pillar of Egypt’s policy. Fleeing is not an option. Where is the red line for that? Why is the human rights movement silent?
There was also no mention of Hamas’ own record: ruling Gaza without elections since 2007, repressing critics, torturing dissidents, and diverting UN aid to build rockets. This claim is further supported by investigations into UNRWA infrastructure and resources being used by Hamas both before and after October 7, as reported by organizations like UN Watch. In February 2024, the IDF uncovered a Hamas tunnel network beneath UNRWA’s Gaza headquarters, containing a sophisticated data center with power lines running directly into the building. Separately, Israeli intelligence indicated that 1,200 UNRWA employees in Gaza, about 10 percent of the agency’s local staff, are members of Hamas or Palestinian Islamic Jihad, with at least 12 reportedly having participated in the October 7 attacks.
Amnesty rarely addresses these issues explicitly. Some suggest this may be because doing so could jeopardize their access to Gaza. But how credible is your moral stance if it depends on the permission of a terrorist group?
The Façade of Neutrality
The lack of complexity in the protest’s message also gave ammunition to populist voices. Dutch far-right leader Geert Wilders responded on social media by calling the march “a protest against Israel and in favor of Hamas.” He added that he too was drawing a red line — “against terror, against Hamas, and for Israel.” When a demonstration fails to make room for nuance, it becomes easy for critics to reduce it to a caricature. And once everyone starts drawing lines, whether symbolic or ideological, we lose the space where real accountability and meaningful solidarity can take root.
The Dutch government itself remained silent in the face of this protest, despite the fact that it was explicitly directed at them. Tens of thousands of citizens took to the streets, demanding accountability and a change in policy. Yet there was no official response. That silence is telling. When a government chooses not to engage with its own citizens over an issue as morally and politically charged as this, it reveals either indifference or discomfort, both of which erode public trust and weaken democratic dialogue.
The Hague protest claimed to project moral urgency. But anyone analyzing the signs, slogans, and speaker lists saw how deep the façade ran. This was not a neutral call for peace. It was a political demonstration where Israel was declared guilty from the outset, and anything that didn’t fit that narrative was erased. That is not human rights advocacy. That is framing.
The march drew a red line. But it only pointed in one direction: toward Israel. Everything and everyone outside that line — whether Jewish civilians, critical NGO analysts, Israeli protest movements, or Hamas’ victims — was left out of the picture. There was no mention of the thousands of Israelis who have taken to the streets in recent months. In Tel Aviv alone, mass protests have called for the return of hostages and an end to the war. Demonstrators held signs reading “How can you sleep at night?” and demanded accountability.
Nor was there mention of organizations like B’Tselem or Jewish Voice for Peace, which have long spoken out against occupation and injustice. Their absence was not accidental, it simply didn’t fit the narrative. And that is deeply problematic. It conceals the reality that within Israel itself, there is robust and ongoing opposition to its government’s actions. Erasing that fact not only flattens the complexity of the conflict, it also undermines the very principle of holding governments accountable — especially when their own citizens are among the loudest critics.
Conclusion: Not a Protest for Peace
Protest is a vital part of any healthy democracy. But protest without honesty, without the willingness to acknowledge suffering on all sides and to include a diversity of voices, is an empty gesture. Those who claim to fight for human rights must be willing to face uncomfortable truths. That applies to governments, and certainly to activists. The moral failure of today’s march lies not in the act of demonstrating itself, but in the one-sided nature with which it was done.
As long as parts of the human rights movement continue to avoid drawing red lines around Hamas, antisemitism, and selective outrage, they will remain part of the problem. Those who joined today’s protest in good faith might ask themselves whether the message they stood behind truly reflected the values they hoped to defend.
* A full list of sources used for this article is available upon request.