Human faces in the prison system; video: Ignacio Rosaslanda
(For my previous report covering the Ulm5 trial up to May 22, see here.)
Unfortunately, there is still no regular media coverage of what is unfolding in the Stammheim courthouse— —a trial that resembles a chamber theatre more than a show trial. The trial, which is scheduled for a few days a week at most and thus is stretched out artificially over 8.5 months, has been reported on only very sporadically in the mainstream media, with coverage limited to brief snapshots. The critical and solidarity-driven scholarship featured here on this platform cannot truly compensate for this media failure. In my view it should, rather than providing updates, be developing research and ideas for contextualizing and gaining a deeper understanding of both the trial and the real events that the trial seeks to obscure and punish.
In that context, here are just a few key points based on what I’ve been able to gather from observers about the progress of the trial —without guaranteed accuracy:
The proceedings continue to move at a snail’s pace. Court days often last only a few hours. Much of this time is spent on motions filed by the attorneys—which are rejected by the presiding judge—as well as on long recesses. Members of the audience have started working on an “Ulm5 Bingo” game, but – due to the judge’s most frequent utterances – have barely gotten past the two terms “motion denied” and “recess.”
The fundamental violations of rights by the court have still not been remedied: The attorneys are fighting for the defendants’ right not to be forced to sit in the glass cage and to be able to communicate with their attorneys without a microphone, as well as for the right to a trial that is genuinely open to the public. As noted previously, only the few press representatives are allowed to bring writing implements into the court. The absurd reason given is that pens could be used as weapons to stab and slash others; even wax crayons and bendable children’s pencils remain banned. The defense attorneys must repeatedly file motions—even if they have no chance of success—so that they cannot later be accused of having acquiesced to the court’s rules.
Then there are multiple motions for recusal, for which the presiding judge constantly creates new reasons. The most recent example, from a few days ago, was the “sergeant-major” episode; —the audience could remember this exchange even without recourse to pen and paper: The presiding judge ordered, “Quiet at the back!”; Attorney Schuster replied, “Excuse me, but this is a courtroom, not a barracks parade ground, and you are not a sergeant-major!” Presiding Judge: “Yes, I am!” Attorney Schuster then complained about the judge’s “insolent tone” and filed a motion for recusal . At the request of the defence, the presiding judge dictated the minutes.
The next day, it turned out that the defendants were not informed—as was their right—of the outcome of this motion, namely that it had been rejected. So more motions followed. It also turned out that the wording reported by the judge as well as the prosecutor did not match what everyone present had heard. There is suspicion that the presiding judge altered the transcript retroactively and is lying. So, yet another motion for recusal.
On the eighth day of the trial, when the heat wave was at its worst, the defendants were permitted to drink water. Previous motions to be allowed to drink water had been denied.
At least there was one moment when the court was confronted with reality: Attorney Nina Onèr succeeded in her motion to present a recently published report—“What the Wounds Are Telling Us” by the Dutch newspaper *de Volkskrant*, which won the 2026 European Press Prize—which, based on hundreds of photos, videos, X-rays, diary entries, and interviews with doctors and nurses in Gaza, horrifically documents that children—including very young children—are being deliberately murdered in large numbers and are dying under the most appalling circumstances. (The Ulm5 had spray-painted “Babykiller Israel” on the wall, referring, they and their defence lawyers said in court, to a contemporary reality that had nothing to do with the antisemitic medieval blood libel legend.) As the language of the court is German, the English translators had to translate this text on the spot. Both struggled with this text; the second is reported by those attending to have struggled to keep her voice from breaking. Once again, the defense attorneys managed—as it were, through the back door—to present arguments or materials that, contrary to the prosecution’s narrative, hinted at the defendants’ true motivation.
The presentation of evidence in this trial has begun at last, however, it did not begin with the presentation of evidence from the ground up, but—as was feared—with its manipulation. A video was shown that the police had compiled from footage that Ulm5 had filmed themselves. The police video, the court was later to hear from one of the defendants, omitted segments that would show that the defendants were NOT violent offenders or terrorist-minded extremists, but rather went to great lengths to ensure that no people—and indeed no living beings at all—would come to harm. One of the defendants, Crow, was able to point this out, though it appeared that the presiding judge did not take note of the criticism regarding the video’s editing.
Another defendant, Vi, said that their motivation should be clear, and that it should also be clear that pretrial detention was not justified. Zo also spoke up and made a statement about the relationship between “force” and “violence,” which the translation failed spectacularly to convey accurately, to the consternation of those in the public gallery who could hear Zo’s original in English from within the glass cage.
Originally, the testimony of the lead police investigator—who wrote the 200-page report on which the indictment is based—was supposed to have been heard on June 29. The defense attorneys filed an objection to his being called as a witness, arguing that he was actually part of the prosecution team. This was used as a pretext for the presiding judge to end the trial day early—although the actual reason can be suspected relates to the embarrassing situation created by the “sergeant-major” episode.
When reflecting more fundamentally on this trial, two themes occupy my thoughts :
First, the significance of life/vitality as a form of resistance, and the diverse strategies of repression aimed at extinguishing that vitality. I am moved by a short video clip showing the arrival of the prisoner transport van—which brought Daniel from Ulm Prison to Stammheim—at the entrance to the Stammheim courthouse. The van stops at the gate for a few seconds. Behind the barred side window in the dark interior, you can see Daniel smiling and forming a heart with their hands. That cheerful, free smile so characteristic of Daniel—a human face! Then its rear window comes into view. On it, the faces of three young people in uniform advertise job openings in the justice system. The contrast between the generic human faces on the rear window and the living human face behind bars is almost unbearable. “Free Daniel” in its dual meaning: freedom for Daniel, and the Daniel who despite all remains free, in captivity. Daniel told the magazine Freitag about the lack of stimulation and the boredom in prison: yard time is only between 8:30 and 9:30, offering a chance to talk with fellow inmates, but there are no trees, no bushes, no nature. “I’m allowed to walk around in a concrete yard—there’s no greenery here.” You’re not even allowed to send the defendant a dried petal: indeed, smuggling a plant into this prison would be an act of resistance.
The ritualized sequence of the trial also strikes me in this light. It is intended to establish legal certainty and predictability. Yet the alienation it creates—of which the lawyers’ war of interpretations is merely one manifestation— also serves another purpose: namely suck vitality and freedom out of those present. In this sterile, oppositional atmosphere, where obedience or defiance seem to be the only available attitudes, an open smile, a heartfelt word, and—in general—honest, unguarded, human, and lively behaviour—which is actually necessary for finding the truth—are made as difficult as possible. That is also why the public gallery claps and cheers when the defendants enter the courtroom, and why, despite the judge’s orders, some can’t help but react with noise when one of the attorneys says something incisive and true. This is also why it is so moving to see how the defendants communicate with one another nonverbally, behind their glass partition, and show concern for one another.
The second theme is the comparison with the Baader-Meinhof gang (RAF), which is constantly being thrust upon us—even by those who are actually critical of the German state’s „Staatsräson“. The only point of comparison I accept is that the Ulm5 trial is also of great historical and public significance and should therefore be documented, just as the RAF trial was, with verbatim transcripts and video/audio recordings. And yes, of course there were also young, vibrant people among the Baader-Meinhof members who found the injustices and genocides of their time morally and politically too unbearable to remain idle. And yes, of course, the state resorts to potentially any means in its fight against everything it perceives as hostile. But otherwise, the comparison falls short. It only serves to justify repression, even when it purports to criticize it.
Unlike the Baader-Meinhof gang, the Ulm5 have clarified their stance on violence. As Crow explained, it was of the utmost importance to the five that no one come to harm. To see themselves as an “Army Faction” of whatever sort, to collect weapons, to kidnap, injure, or kill people, would be completely incompatible with their fundamental motivation. But, Zo noted, even the dichotomy of “violence against property versus violence against people” no longer holds when the very foundations of life are being systematically destroyed and life itself is very real threatened with annihilation. The Ulm5’s action was not directed against people, nor against department stores, police stations, cars, the Springer skyscraper, or the like, but solely against weapons production in the midst of an ongoing genocide. In Gaza, not only are children being slowly and cruelly murdered, but large parts of Gaza have been transformed into death zones where not even a blade of grass grows anymore. Damaging the instruments of death used for this purpose constitutes as much—or as little—“violence against property” as rendering a murder weapon harmless. That is why the lawyers are arguing for the motivation having been on the grounds of a state of emergency and emergency assistance.
If one takes resistance against the destruction of the foundations of life as the criterion, the comparison now is not with the Baader-Meinhof gang (RAF), but rather with the Last Generation. Imagine that—and this is very likely—temperatures in our sealed-off city centers will soon exceed 40 degrees for long periods of time: there is only concrete, no trees, no shrubs—“there is no greenery here.” Would tearing up these sealed surfaces then still count as “property damage,” or rather would it constitute a constructive act that benefits plants, animals, and people—and indeed also property, created by and for people? We face the threat of ever-larger zones where life has been destroyed and life has become nearly impossible. Gaza stands as a horror scenario that is becoming a reality wherever racialized populations, in particular, are deemed entirely superfluous and troublesome; and that is what drives young people to take action, such as the break-in at Elbit.
The Ulm5 behind the glass wall at the Stammheim trial, May 29th; photo: Ignacio Rosaslanda
What did the Ulm5—five young people living in Berlin with Irish, British, Spanish, and German citizenship—do? In the early morning of September 8, 2025, while the war in Gaza was still raging, they broke into a building belonging to the Israeli arms manufacturer Elbit Systems Germany in Ulm, damaged computers and other equipment, toilets, windows, and measuring devices, and spray-painted slogans on the walls (the Attorney General’s Office considers “baby killers” in particular to be anti-Semitic). According to the prosecutor’s office, several others who are being sought had also sprayed slogans and possibly red triangles outside and then fled. The Ulm5 filmed themselves during their break-in and vandalism and then waited to be arrested. Beforehand, each of them had delivered a short speech to camera, justifying their actions as resistance against the ongoing genocide and again using some of the slogans that the prosecutor’s office considers to be incriminating. Other unknown individuals edited the videos and uploaded them to social media after the incident. Some of the group’s statements and actions link them to “Palestine Action,” a Palestine-solidarity sabotage network previously active in the UK.
(I happen to know two of the individuals involved in the act: one—Daniel, an Irish citizen—since they were a small child; our families have been friends for three generations; the other—Zo—only very briefly, as a student at Bard College Berlin. They’re both gorgeous!)
From the very beginning, it was clear that the judicial system in Baden-Württemberg would treat the Ulm5 as enemies of the state. Strange incidents occurred—a few of which cannot be made public while the trial is ongoing—along with all manner of harassment. For 30 hours, while they were held at the police station in Ulm, they were denied contact with lawyers. Zo sat in their cell for six hours having been forced to undress completely and given only an adult diaper to wear. Daniel sat in their cell for much of the 30 hours, they later wrote to their girlfriend in a letter, without clothes, naked except for underwear. It wasn’t until two weeks later that Daniel‘s court-appointed attorney was given an appointment to speak with Daniel in Ulm prison. For a month, Daniel‘s family was not allowed to contact them, and even Irish consular staff were not allowed to visit.
Instead of suspending pretrial detention on bail, as is customary when there is no risk of flight, it is being extended further and further, with the trial not beginning until seven months later and the trial dates stretched out as much as possible. At the moment, the court plans to reach a verdict only in January 2027, that is, after 16 months of pretrial detention.
Pretrial detention at the Ulm Am Frauengraben Correctional Facility is very harsh: except for one hour of yard time early in the morning every day, sometimes one hour of access to a gym once a week, and a half-hour of visiting time every two weeks, he is in solitary confinement with no access to the outside world except for a television. Letters take weeks and sometimes up to 5 months to arrive. Only after six months, after multiple appeals, was a court order issued granting Daniel the right to purchase fiction books. When Daniel‘s family was finally allowed to visit, they sat separated from them in a glass enclosure and could communicate with them only faintly through small drilled holes; physical contact was not permitted. It was only when Irish members of parliament went to the German ambassador in Ireland and lodged a complaint that this unlawful practice was discontinued after five months.
Because of these harassments alone, the defense attorneys were embroiled in a battle with the court from the very beginning. At the latest when the Stuttgart Higher Regional Court, in upholding the decision in February that the suspects must remain in pretrial detention, were antisemites with „high criminal energy“, and stating that they faced long prison sentences (all this without hearing evidence from the defence), it became clear that the judiciary was biased and not interested in a fair trial.
There are several peculiarities of the German court system that have a structurally negative impact in a political trial such as this: 1) Unlike Anglo-Saxon legal systems, German procedural law does not provide for a jury, but rather, in addition to the three professional judges, only two lay judges, who, while formally equal to the professional judges, generally do not develop their own corrective dynamic because they are in the minority; 2) Prosecutors are subordinate to the Ministry of Justice and are bound by instructions; they are part of the executive branch. While judges are independent and not bound by instructions, they are structurally close to the prosecutors: As judicial officials, both share a common career path, a common employer, common associations, common institutional interests, common conferences, cafeterias, social networks, and a similar self-image. Prosecutors, too, are bound by a duty of “objectivity” and are supposed to investigate not only incriminating but also exculpatory circumstances. This moderates the prosecution, but conversely, a judge who wants to advance his career or simply keep the peace among his colleagues can hardly afford to alienate the prosecution and, by extension, the government. The prosecution and the court tend to act as a united front, albeit with divided roles. 3) Simply as a counterweight to this, criminal defense attorneys—who are primarily obligated to their clients and work as independent professionals—often hold left-leaning and state-critical views in Germany. 4) My impression: The dominance of state interests and the blurring of roles, combined with certain personal character traits, foster the impression in political trials that members of the judiciary are actually weak, insecure individuals who are not free in their actions and compensate for this with passive-aggressive authoritarian behavior. This, in turn, leads to petty fights in the courtroom with attorneys and the public that actually undermine the dignity of the court. 4) There is no provision for verbatim transcripts to be prepared of the court proceedings in most German trials. One of the three judges takes the minutes, and the presiding judge determines what is noted down and what is not. Lawyers may have something entered into the record, but only after the presiding judge has granted them the floor. In the absence of verbatim transcripts, not to mention audio recordings, lawyers are forced to constantly ensure that what they say is actually recorded. This slows down the proceedings and contributes further to the impression of indignity. 5) Trials must be public, the press must be admitted and allowed to take notes. However, members of the public not accredited as press may be barred from bringing writing materials under courtroom regulations. From my experience at the Berlin-Tiergarten District Court, paper and a (often poor-quality) pen are at least provided in such cases. At the Stammheim Regional Court, however, you receive neither pen nor paper and must rely on mnemonic techniques to remember what happens throughout the long day. Visitors are searched before entering, sometimes roughly and with force in intimate areas, even after surrendering all personal items including belts and going through a metal detector. The public nature of the trial is undermined by the ridiculous insinuation that the audience could use a pen or paper to attack “participants in the proceedings”—a scenario in which, at Stammheim, behind a bulletproof glass wall, the audience would have to attack either each other or the court officers standing around in combat gear: stab vests, padded clothes, reinforced leather gloves, armed and carrying handcuffs. 6) And as is likely the case everywhere in the world, the architecture of the court itself expresses mistrust toward the audience. In Stammheim, the bulletproof glass walls separate not only the defendants but also the audience from the courtroom.
The Ulm5 trial involves a host of other issues that are actually uncommon in German legal proceedings. From the very beginning, the court has been completely unresponsive to the defense attorneys; Presiding Judge Kathrin Lauchstädt subjects them, the defendants, and the public to harassment that seems as arbitrary as it is unnecessary. All attempts by the defense attorneys to engage in dialogue with her in the run-up to the trial failed. She refused to accept phone calls or emails from the defense (only snail mail), while—as the attorneys have since discovered—communication with Attorney General Ronny Stengel took place via email. On the first day of the trial, she did not allow the defense to speak at all, without giving any reasons for doing so. There is no judicial decision or justification for the discriminatory seating arrangement, and the judge has provided no schedule for the trial days, despite repeated requests from the defense. The 16 trial days initially announced were arbitrarily extended last week by another 28 days, stretching into January. Not only does this prolong the defendants’ pretrial detention, it also makes it virtually impossible for the lawyers to continue running their law firms in Berlin, Munich, Nuremberg… The experts to be appointed do not know when they are supposed to appear in court and cannot plan accordingly. Since the defendants filmed their own actions and the facts are clear, one wonders what is actually supposed to happen during these 44 days. Perhaps this is an empty threat. But perhaps the court also intends to carry out this strategy of attrition in earnest. Although the trial days officially begin at 9 a.m. and the public must arrive as early as 8 a.m. for security checks and searches, the proceedings do not actually begin until around 10:30 a.m.; lunch breaks of two hours or more are scheduled, and the presiding judge uses every pretext to interrupt the proceedings or even adjourn them for the day entirely. Indeed, after 4 sitting trial dates so far, only about 8 hours of actual court proceedings have been undertaken.
On the first two days of the trial (which I did not attend), the court got no further than establishing the defendants’ identities. When proceedings did take place at all, they always concerned the attorneys’ motions to be allowed to file motions before the indictment was read, in order to clarify issues that had not been resolved before the trial began due to the presiding judge’s refusal to engage. The lawyers want 1) to ensure that the defendants are allowed to sit next to them, as is customary, because only then is confidential communication possible. This is in line with multiple European Court of Human Rights rulings. The arrangement of having the defendants behind a glass partition, where they are supposed to follow the proceedings and translations as well as communicate with their lawyers via microphones and headphones, significantly curtails their right to legal counsel and violates Article 6 of the European Convention on Human Rights, the right to a fair trial. This has been repeatedly refused by the judge. 2) The attorneys seek to ensure that they may bring a law clerk to prepare verbatim transcripts, or alternatively, to permit audio recordings. This has also been refused repeatedly by the judge – contrary to custom. Indeed the prosecutor, invited by the judge to take a view on this, remarked that it was not necessary as this case was neither of contemporary nor of historical significance. 3) Due to the apparent prejudgment evident in the court’s refusal to allow the defence to speak at all on the first day of proceedings; the court’s highly prejudicial media statements likening the Ulm 5 to multiple murderers, terrorist coup plotters and rival gang warfare participants; and other matters, the attorneys have filed a motion for recusal against the presiding judge.
The first day of the trial ended dramatically: After one of many arbitrary recesses, the lawyers protested the seating arrangement by moving en masse behind the bulletproof glass in their robes, with their laptops, ready to work and reading to wait for their clients there and stand beside them. They basically occupied the glass box. Like an overwhelmed elementary school teacher, the presiding judge ordered them to take their seats within five minutes. When the lawyers refused to comply, the judge adjourned the hearing, sent everyone home, canceled the hearing days scheduled for the following week as a collective punishment, and extended the trial into January. It wasn’t until May 20, after a two-week break, that proceedings resumed.
In the following, I describe what I saw and experienced on the third and fourth days of the trial, the days on which I was present myself:
Report from Wednesday, May 20, the third day of the trial:
On the way from the subway’s last stop to the prison and courthouse, we run into the other mothers (Vi’s, Crow/Walter’s, and Zo’s). For me, these mothers are and remain the most striking figures of the entire process. They greet each other affectionately. At home, some of them cry their eyes out, but when they talk to each other, they laugh at the absurdities. They laugh at how the court asked the defendents for their current addresses of the respective detention centers. They laugh at Vi’s answer in German to the question about her marital status: “leeedig” („ledig“ is a German bureaucratic word for not married). “Either you’re married or you’re a ‘spinster’”. The laughter helps a lot, and if I had to choose between the fate of the mothers or the sad existence of the presiding judge, I would always choose the fate of the mother. When we arrive in front oft he court house, the activists treat them with touching courtesy, they always let them go to the very front of the lines.
The mothers are all in their mid-50s to early 60s and were, until recently, by no means „radical“. For some time, the families weren’t sure if the lawyers’ conflict strategy was the right one. But the unjust and harsh treatment of their children from day one, the many acts of harassment, the absurd accusations of anti-Semitism, and the countless experiences of being at the mercy of a state power that is blind to reality, self-contradictory, and inhumane have driven them completely to the side of the activists in solidarity with Palestine. Not only in court, but also before every prison visit, they are searched and frisked and, depending on the facility, might not be allowed to bring in either paper or pens. Before her prison visits, Daniel’s mother tries to write the most urgent things she wants to tell Daniel in the scant half-hour visit on the back of her hand. “Does the German state realize how they are radicalizing women over 60 whose skin is too wrinkled to write prison notes on their hands?”
You can see Stammheim Prison from a distance. The courthouse is right next to it. It was rebuilt in 2023 in a corporate-chic style. The interior of the building was compared to a “wellness oasis” in an architecture magazine; Daniel’s stepfather jokes that he will only give it two stars on TripAdvisor. “The Stuttgart hospitality thing—measured cordiality.”
The numerous court officers in the gallery are dressed in riot gear and ready to interpret their powers broadly and arbitrarily. While we wait for the trial to begin, a row of seats reserved for the press is opened up to the public. The mothers want to move to the front so they can see their children better behind the glass partition. They are denied this for no reason: “I have my instructions,” says the court officer. “Just following orders,” say the mothers; this excuse sounds familiar in Germany. The activists hunch in their seats so the mothers can still have a somewhat clear view.
After a delay of over an hour and a half, the defendants are finally brought in, and at first it is a shock. Vi is wheeled in on a chair, handcuffed, by several officers. She has lost over ten kilos in detention in Schwäbisch-Gmünd, where there is apparently not enough to eat; they say it is cold and dirty within the old walls of a former monastery. She really looks terrible. Has something happened? Can she no longer walk? Her friends from her hometown of Offenbach, who have traveled here for the day, are fighting back tears. But when the others, too, are not walking on their own but are carried in by four police officers each, it becomes clear to that this is a protest: Unlike the RAF defendants, who withdrew from the trial by going on a hunger strike, the defendants do want to participate in the trial, but with this action they are demonstrating that they do not accept the glass partition, being handcuffed and separated from their lawyers.
This is not the only difference to the RAF trial that comes to mind: The RAF defendants had killed people, whereas the Ulm5 defendants have only damaged property and harmed no living being. The RAF defendants refused to participate in the trial by going on a hunger strike. The Ulm5 defendants want the trial to proceed but insist on their rights. The RAF defendants did not claim that their actions were intended to hinder, for example, the Vietnam War or the Shah’s policies in Iran. The Ulm 5 wanted to hinder the genocide in Gaza and Germany’s support for it, at least temporarily. Today, the state is attempting to exploit the symbolism of the RAF trial. A dynamic of radicalization happens today as it happened then. However, the defendants and the defense are doing everything in their power today to counter dehumanization and the violation of life, and to insist on the rule of law.
As the defendants are escorted to their seats, the audience greets them with a standing ovation and sustained applause. Today, however, unlike on previous trial days, there are no cheers and no singing. One of the mothers had asked the activists waiting outside the entrance to refrain from cheering and singing so as not to provide further pretexts for interruptions, but she told them to clap as they entered. We know how important this encouragement and support from the audience is for the defendants.
The first few hours of the trial, which has finally begun, are consumed by the complicated legal maneuvering surrounding the motions with which the attorneys have already spent the first two days attempting to assert their clients’ rights: these include the stigmatizing nature of the proceedings, the restrictions on communication and public access, the recording of proceedings, and—since these motions are constantly being denied without justification—the court’s bias. In addition, the lawyers are trying to secure permission to show an eight-minute film as part of their opening statements—using the courtroom’s equipment or on a screen they have brought with them. Presumably, it is a film showing the war crimes committed in Gaza using Elbit’s weapons systems. The court is determined not to allow this under any circumstances.
The contrast in demeanor and bearing between the court and the lawyers is striking. The presiding judge embodies, in a jarring way, the archetype of the timid bureaucrat. One cannot help but feel that she is not making decisions freely, but is somehow receiving instructions from above—or is, in some incomprehensible way, biased and incompetent. The lawyers—a total of 11 court-appointed and private defense attorneys, of whom 7 or 8 are present—are all quite young. While there may have been disagreement about the trial strategy during the preparation phase, the court, with its obstructions and incompetence, has achieved the opposite of what it intended. The lawyers are not intimidated, but appear determined and completely united.
The Attorney General seems even more intransigent than the judge, less insecure, contemptuous; he speaks little, and when he does, he makes himself as incomprehensible as possible. He clearly has a problem with the lawyers’ media relations. Time and again, he mentions media coverage, “international and domestic,” as if it were something objectionable for which the lawyers were responsible. At one point, he warns that he will not let it pass if, as he fears, the lawyers’ opening statements were to “depart from the foundations of the Basic Law.” He apparently confuses German national interest/the „Staatsräson“ with the Basic Law. He laughs when the lawyers later speak about the war crimes in Gaza. For his part, he contributes to delaying the trial by usually not responding to the lawyers’ motions, or responding only briefly, and reserving the right to submit written statements, for which the presiding judge has given him until the middle of next week.
In the end, the presiding judge must hear one final motion before the indictment is read: a defense attorney requests that the public be excluded during the reading of those sections of the indictment that deal with the alleged “anti-Semitism” of the crime. She argues that her client’s safety at Stammheim Prison is at risk, as right-wing ideology is circulating there; a prison chaplain had approached them and unsolicitedly given them a book on anti-Semitism. Since someone from the BILD newspaper is also sitting in the audience and it is actually surprising that there hasn’t yet been a full-scale smear campaign against Ulm5, the lawyers, and the family members, there may be some truth to the fear. But my impression is that the motion primarily gives the defense attorney the opportunity to explain, even before the indictment can be read, that her client’s actions were not directed against Jews, nor even against the State of Israel, but exclusively against the leadership of Elbit Systems, its weapons production, its involvement in the genocide in Gaza, and German support for it. The many other motions, which may seem confusing to the public, also allow the defense—regardless of whether they are rejected or not even admitted—to present the defendants’ motives before the prosecutor can shape the narrative by reading the indictment.
The indictment focuses primarily on “Palestine Action Germany,” as an alleged part of “Palestine Action Global,” which is said to have emerged from “Palestine Action UK,” and attempts to prove that these networks constitute organized “crime” and a “criminal organization” into which the defendants’ act was “integrated.” The preparations for the act, and above all the red Palestine Action overalls that the Ulm5 would have worn had the postal mail delivered them in time, serve as evidence of “membership”. But since the act was a one-time occurrence, and apart from this single act, an organization named “Palestine Action Germany” has not had an appearance anywhere else to date, and above all, since trespassing and property damage alone do not constitute serious crimes, the justifications for assuming the existence of a criminal organization do not really hold up. Apparently, this is why the Attorney General needs the astronomical figure of over one million euros in damages, for which he provides no evidence whatsoever. He also needs the accusation of anti-Semitism to make the act appear particularly reprehensible. The slogans and the mere fact that Elbit Systems is an Israeli company are supposed to substantiate the accusation of anti-Semitism. To insinuate that the defendants support Hamas, the red triangle and FTRTTS are used as evidence.
After the long, imposed lunch break, when most of the press had gone home, the lawyers were finally able to deliver their opening statements. They have obviously decided not to address the charges brought by the State Attorney General’s Office at all. Their defense is not a defense, but rather a full-scale offensive. Two lawyers begin with presentations on the history of the RAF trials and the symbolism of Stammheim, and they explain the defendants’ one-time, symbolic refusal to enter the glass box. One lawyer, who had intended to show the eight-minute video featuring footage from Gaza, states for the record that he was denied the opportunity to present his case and has nothing further to say. One lawyer draws a parallel to the members of the climate activist group Last Generation, who caused millions in damage and yet were not taken into pretrial detention. Daniel’s lawyer, Benjamin Düsberg—who is simply excellent at rhetoric—presents on the war in Gaza and how, above all, children were killed, starved, and injured, deliberately and systematically; he speaks in detail about the types of weapons produced by Elbit Systems, how they are used for genocidal warfare, how Germany supports this weapons production; what international law prescribes and how international law relates to German law. “No one who has even a shred of heart and reason left can turn a blind eye to this.” As he speaks, two of the defendants are crying. I no longer remember where Düsberg stopped and the lawyer Breuer took over, or who read the quote from Fritz Bauer: the defendants’ actions—trespassing and property damage—were not merely excusable, were not merely justifiable as self-defense; they were resistance, necessary resistance against an ongoing genocide, “the least they could do,” after all other means of persuading Germany to cease its complicity in the crimes had failed. The lawyers concluded that the criminals were sitting on the other side; Elbit and Germany should be the ones on trial, whereas the defendants had drawn the only correct conclusion from the lessons of National Socialism and the Holocaust: “Never again!”
The presiding judge seemed to be listening, at least. The prosecutor, on the other hand, made dismissive hand gestures and even laughed once. When asked if he wished to respond, he sneered that he had nothing to “replicate,” since nothing relevant to the trial had been presented.
Outside, we meet the lawyers. They are confident. The presiding judge is making one mistake after another. Indeed: her weakness and lack of composure are glaringly obvious. Nevertheless, that very evening, the information screen in the subway displays a version of the story that blames the “chaotic day of proceedings” on the defendants who allowed themselves to be dragged in, and on the lawyers with their motions. This is the epistemic violence that Mimi had said was almost harder to bear than the physical violence of imprisonment and deprivation of liberty: “It’s unbelievable when you experience this live, and then have to hear and read what the state and the media have to say about it—and that’s something completely different.” When you’re being fed a pack of lies; when you’re forced to accept a false, constructed parallel reality instead of the reality perceptible to your own senses.
Report from Friday, May 22, 2026, the fourth day of the trial
It is the day on which the defendants’ statements are finally expected. As we wait in the morning sun in front of the supporter camp, Greta Thunberg comes around the corner, with her heavy backpack, accompanied by Judith Scheytt and Hebh Jamal, just like the rest of us from the subway; completely unassuming and without any fuss being made about her arrival.
Yesterday, Roser, the most active activist, visited another trial that is currently taking place on alternate days in the very same courtroom in Stammheim out of curiosity—one that involved a person charged with membership in a terrorist (!) organization. She reports: This defendant had not been in pretrial detention at all, but had arrived by taxi. He was treated politely and courteously by the court and was informed of his rights; a “normal” trial, which once again shows just how abnormal the Ulm5 trial is. At the entrance in front of the courthouse there is a notice box that shows all the upcoming trials, with hearing dates—for the public, one would think. When I take a photo of them, a police officer approaches and aggressively orders me to stop.
Security checks: At the entrance, the punk-style policewoman who is nice and discreet and already knows me takes over the pat-down in the booth again. But others end up with a policewoman who is a sadist. Mimi after the afternoon check: “She stuck her hands up inside my bra, pushed the underwire up hard—very painful—and felt my breasts. Like both palms on the whole of both my breasts, I consider it a sexual assault.” In response to her loud complaint: “Hey, what are you doing? That’s not normal,” she replied: “That’s how I always do it,” but at least refrained from reaching into her pants between her legs, as she did with Greta, the other mothers, and four journalists. This happened to every woman as far as we know who was sent to this woman including the very experienced trial observer representatives from the Basic Rights Committee NGO, who have filed a formal complaint already. The lawyers will file a formal complaint about sexual abuse.
In the courtroom, the slips of paper for the “press” are no longer on the chairs but are laminated and glued to the backs of the chairs in the first two rows. No one is supposed to get the idea to use the slips of paper for writing anymore. It is details like these that make one particularly feel the court’s meanness.
The defendants are led to their seats behind the glass partition, on foot today. Vi looks much better; in fact, the defendants are in high spirits. Mimi and Jem were able to visit the day before; he’s doing well, despite the terrible prison conditions and even though a fellow inmate he’d befriended during the morning yard walks has disappeared. When the sun creeps over the prison walls, they stand on their tiptoes to feel a few rays on their faces. Daniel does hundreds of push-ups in his cell every day and looks stronger than ever. It seems they won’t succeed in breaking the defendants and their families.
Now the lawyers are raising the motions that had previously been denied: Regarding the seating arrangement, they have discovered that the presiding judge lied: Stammheim was designated as the courtroom from the very beginning; no other venues were even considered, even though there were 14 or 15 other courtrooms in the region. The fact that no eye contact with the clients is possible, and above all that they cannot simultaneously follow the proceedings and communicate with their lawyers, constitutes a violation of their rights that they will not accept. In response, for the first and only time so far, the young prosecutor sitting next to the Attorney General speaks up and asks—perhaps ironically, since it is quite cramped at the lawyers’ tables—where exactly the defense thinks the defendants should sit? This is a perfect setup: The lawyers laugh, one (Anna Busl) speaks up and thanks her for the question: Where the prosecution is sitting right now—that is the right place for her clients! Because in fact, they are the real plaintiffs, and the real accused are Elbit Systems and the German state, which supports genocidal warfare. The prosecution could then sit down behind the bulletproof glass and see what the trial looks like from there.
Regarding the issue of recording, the lawyers cite the RAF trial as a historical counterexample, where the court permitted a court reporter. Above all they point to the obvious practicality. The Attorney General counters for now that the RAF trial had media and historical significance for contemporaries and posterity, whereas he considers this trial as insignificant. (Posterity will see it differently.)
On the question of pen use in the audience: the attorneys point out that the pretext that pens could be used as stabbing weapons is absurd. The Attorney General claims that he has reasons to be afraid as he and the judges have been named on Indymedia and threatened “with sanctions.” Defense: they are sorry to hear this, but the audience can’t be blamed for that, and what does it have to do with the pens?
The motion to make an audio recording of the trial is denied. In most cases, the Attorney General does not present oral arguments but instead refers to written statements, for which the presiding judge sets a deadline for the following week. When the attorneys point out that the motion to at least bring the defendants out of the glass enclosure for their opening statements must be decided immediately due to time constraints, the judge wants to end the day’s proceedings entirely—it is noon, after only an hour and a half of proceedings. Great unrest in the courtroom: are the defendants once again not to be given an opportunity to speak? Several lawyers cite the principle of expeditious proceedings, their clients’ civil liberties, and the fact that the presiding judge herself had referred to the principle of expeditious proceedings on the very first day; they also mention the families who had traveled from abroad to hear their children. The judge has to give in, but orders another two-hour lunch break, probably in the hope that most of the press will no longer be present by then.
I, too, am prevented by this long lunch break from hearing the statements. But according to reports from others and Mimi’s account, only Daniel managed to speak up, and not the whole of his statement. At first, the presiding judge granted the request to let the prisoners out of the glass box for their statements, but with a “meanness” attached (as one of the lawyers put it): They were to be led to the witness stand in handcuffs. Daniel therefore preferred to deliver the speech behind glass after all, rather than be paraded “like an animal”, according to Düsberg. Daniel spoke in German about his exclusively humanitarian motives for the act: the systematic destruction of the foundations of life in Gaza, the artificial famine, the sexual violence against Palestinian prisoners. The Ulm5 had wanted to “cause a stir,” to at least temporarily interrupt the arms shipments. “Looking the other way is reprehensible, but supplying the equipment for it is even worse.” The accusation of anti-Semitism did not surprise him, but it outraged him: “To label resistance against occupation and mass murder as anti-Semitism is a disgrace.” –
After this sentence, which landed powerfully in the room, the presiding judge completely lost it: She seized upon a brief and isolated cheer from the audience as a pretext to interrupt Daniel’s statement—not to remove the disruptor from the courtroom, but to have them led through a side door from the gallery into the courtroom itself and to stage a small trial within the trial there: She had the person’s ID card handed to her and began to read out their personal details before everyone. When the lawyers, the defendants, and the audience covered their ears and protested, she must have realized the illegality of her action. She abruptly closed the hearing and went off for the weekend.
Jewish Currents Podcast On the Nose: The Hill, Arielle Angel in conversation with Harriet Clark, May 7, 2026, https://jewishcurrents.org/the-hill.
This episode of the On the Nose/Jewish Currents podcast grapples with the existential question of what remains to be done when one is at the mercy of the prison system. The ever-insightful Arielle Angel speaks with Harriet Clark about her recently published book “The Hill”: an autobiographical novel about a child who can only be with her mother during weekly prison visits. The child simply wants to see her mother and devotes her entire life to this—for 38 years. It wasn’t until 2019 that the mother was released. Harriet Clark’s mother is Judith Clark, a former member of Weather Underground and the communist organization May 19th in the U.S., sentenced to life imprisonment in 1981 for her participation in a robbery in which three people died. The grandparents who care for the child were also communists; within the family, revolutionary activism for a just world was passed down from generation to generation, with great harshness toward themselves and others.
Harriet Clark recounts with incredible poignancy her insights into a prison system where the separation of children from their parents is systematic and the destruction of families is intentional. Family reunification, if at all, can only take place within the prison itself. She brings into sharp relief things we already know—such as how drastically this system has evolved and become dehumanizing since 2001. She connects the supposedly exceptional fate of imprisonment with the big questions of life and literature—for example, with death (her grandparents die). When a loved one dies and when a loved one goes to prison, a part of oneself goes with them. What helped me particularly was the thought that people always looked out for her—even strangers, even prison staff—and that her mother, too, looked out for others while in prison. They weren’t alone, even though they were, of course, completely alone. This child held the family together in the face of the repressive system, even though that was, of course, an overwhelming burden and actually impossible. There is a comforting yet inconsolable sense of belonging and solidarity—one that children experience in defiant social contexts and which might be absent in non-defiant social contexts. I also found it interesting how Arielle Angel compares the child’s persistence in returning to prison with the persistence of the Palestinian demand for return, and how the two discuss the radicalism and “derangedness” of such a desire to return home. And there is much more to be learned from this conversation.
Hannah Feuer: “Hundreds of Northwestern students can’t register for class because they won’t watch an antisemitism training video. Here’s what’s in it”, Forward, September 29, 2025.
It was always to be expected that mandatory anti-discrimination training in schools and universities could also be used to spread propaganda and suppress unpopular positions. Universities in the US are now using this tool to comply with Donald Trump’s executive order “Additional Measures to Combat Anti-Semitism” of January 29, 2025. At the prestigious Northwestern University in Chicago, around 300 students have now been excluded from course registration because they refused to watch a mandatory “anti-bias” video that—in a slanderous and false manner—defines anti-Zionism as a denial of the Jewish people’s right to self-determination. The video describes—again falsely—a Greater Israel as the only historical homeland of the Jewish people and equates—methodologically untenable—arbitrary and unverifiable “quotes” from “anti-Israel activists” with quotes from Ku Klux Klan leader David Duke.
The wave of recognition of Palestine by Western states, in which Germany did not participate, owes itself to France’s initiative. President Macron is isolated domestically, has failed in many respects and is unpopular, but his foreign policy shows diplomatic leadership. That has also contributed to the discourse in France once again being broader and more open than in Germany. In France, it is already possible to criticize something that has not yet been achieved in Germany. A group of lawyers and professors, most prominently Rafaëlle Maison, professor of international law at the University of Paris-Saclay, is concerned with the potentially negative consequences that threaten to arise from the purely symbolic recognition of a de facto non-existent state—the state’s territory is eroded by Israeli settlements, its authority is undermined, and its people are exposed to genocide. Rafaëlle Maison published an article on September 11 spelling out the pitfalls of recognition, and gave an interview to the Le Média platform on September 13 to shed light on the “shadow zones” of Macron’s plan. Any policy of recognition should be measured by whether it serves or harms the right of peoples to self-determination, which is fundamental to international law.
In the interview, Maison quotes from the letter Macron wrote to Netanyahu on August 25, 2025. Macron justifies his decision : “Our determination to ensure that the Palestinian people have a state is rooted in our conviction that lasting peace is essential for the security of the State of Israel.” The Palestinians’ right to self-determination is not mentioned in the letter. The horse is being put before the cart: the rights of the Palestinians are understood only as a function of the security of an ethnically and nationally defined Israel; not as an end in itself, but as a means to an end. Diplomatic restraint towards Netanyahu alone cannot explain this. In his speech to the UN General Assembly on September 22, Macron explicitly acknowledged, unlike in the letter, the “legitimate rights of the Palestinian people” and spoke of “a people who draw strength from their history, their roots and their dignity.” And yet, here too, he cited French loyalty to Israel as the main reason for recognition: “Precisely because we are convinced that this recognition is the only solution that can bring peace to Israel.”
Macron’s speech suggests that recognition should lead to an end to genocide aka war. But if the rights of Palestinians are always viewed as merely instrumental, then there can be no lasting peace. Maison exposes Macron’s recognition and his commitment against violence as lip service. The “normalization” he desires for Israel, which continues to violate (mandatory) international law, is to be imposed violently, with or without a Palestinian state. This is already evident in the first half of the letter, where Macron refers at length to France’s official acceptance of the IHRA definition of antisemitism. The adoption of the IHRA definition, “which condemns anti-Zionism as a form of anti-Semitism,” was one of his first official acts in 2017 and forms the basis for his policy of recognition. Macron’s interpretation of the IHRA definition, equating any opposition, however legitimate, to an exclusionary and ethnically defined state with hostility toward Jews as Jews, must automatically declare all Palestinians who have been expatriated and expropriated by Israel, and who naturally have a problem with this statehood, to be enemies of the Jews (not to mention that this equation itself is anti-Semitic). Macron’s letter to Netanyahu shows that the violent instrumentalization of the fight against anti-Semitism and the blanket defamation and exclusion of Palestinians as anti-Semites is far more than just a side effect or collateral damage of the current policy of recognition; it is inherent to it.
But Rafaëlle Maison is interested in recognition primarily from the perspective of international law. She analyzes the “New York Declaration” of July 29, initiated by France and Saudi Arabia and also signed by Germany, as well as the “New York Call” issued on the same day by the foreign ministers of 15 Western states (Germany was not among them) as a reaction and a kind of diversionary tactic to distract attention from the opinion of the International Court of Justice “on the legal consequences of Israel’s occupation policy.” Exactly one year earlier, the ICJ had ruled that Israel’s occupation of the Palestinian territories was illegal, that Israel must withdraw from the territories and pay reparations. On September 18, 2024, the UN General Assembly then adopted Resolution ES-10/24 by a large majority (with Germany abstaining), which stipulates a halt to arms deliveries if they are used in the occupied territories and calls for a boycott of goods from Israeli settlements. Instead of following the ICJ opinion (which everyone, including the German Foreign Office, claims to respect), France and Saudi Arabia convened the UN conference on the recognition issue for July 2025.
Rafaëlle Maison sees the results as “potentially in violation of international law as outlined by the ICJ in 2024.” The Palestinian state should, in the unlikely future that it is actually allowed to materialise, only exist under certain conditions: under the conditions that Hamas surrenders its weapons to the Israeli-controlled Palestinian Authority, which would effectively mean demilitarization (para. 11 of the declaration), the respect of anyone standing for election for the “international obligations” of the PLO (para. 22), the exclusion of Hamas, and the pursuit of a liberal reform agenda. On the latter, Maison writes: “These recipes sound a lot like a free-market program, compromising the sovereign choices of the state-to-be and requiring—incongruously in appearance, but in reality quite significantly—control over freedom of expression.” Lip service is paid to the right of return guaranteed under international law, but in fact they envision a “just solution” to the refugee problem through a “regional and international framework” (para. 39). And the future state would have to work on security arrangements that were “beneficial to all parties” (para. 20) – which, given the unequal power relations, could only mean that Israel would once again assume police and military power and authority in the weak state structure. The outcome would be a state without sovereignty, an “entity under control.”
According to Maison, the “New York Call” in particular makes it clear what is really at stake: normalizing relations between all states and Israel despite the ongoing crimes – and not, as the ICJ actually prescribes, finally responding to these crimes with consequences. Thus, conditional recognition while the genocide continues is “indeed the latest stage in the ‘war against Palestine,’ as chronicled by historian Rashid Khalidi.”
In fact, the situation will not be pacified, no matter what “solution” the international community finds to show Israel the “red lines” so that it abandons its annexation plans and finally ends the genocide; certainly not under a transitional governor Tony Blair in Gaza. Nevertheless, voices have been raised in France in recent days arguing that we should not stop at Rafaëlle Maison’s despairing analysis, but make the best of the new situation. The ongoing genocide, the daily mass deaths, killings, and murders must end immediately, and recognition facilitates the willingness to intervene. On Médiapart, Ilyes Ramdani credits the French initiative with at least putting enormous pressure on the US; the “Riviera” plans seem to be finally buried.
On September 24, Ardi Imseis, professor of international law at Queen’s University in Canada, spoke to French MPs at the initiative of lawyer and member of the French National Assembly Gabrielle Cathala, and gave a lecture at the Sorbonne the following day. He advocates a “realistic,” “pessimistic” stance, insisting that both the legal fact of recognition and the fact of continuing legal obligations established by the ICJ opinion can be used to make demands on governments. It is a bitter reality, he says, that almost all countries in the world do not care about the survival and right to self-determination of the Palestinian people. The Palestinians themselves have no resources to defend themselves against the occupation. But when it comes to statehood, Imseis sees the glass as half full, where others see it as half empty. Almost independently of the situation on the ground, international law has also created its own reality over the years and decades. “It is clear that today, the State of Palestine already exists as a matter of both state practice and law, with or without recognition by France and other Western states.” Palestine was already recognized by 160 states before France’s initiative, was admitted to UNESCO as a full member in 2011, and can be a party to multilateral treaties. Precisely because attaching conditions to recognition conflicts with international law, it is possible to fight against these conditions. Recognition would make it easier to put pressure on states to correct their relationship with Israel and to respond to the occupation, apartheid, and war crimes with sanctions. In his analysis of the New York Declaration, Imsais thus comes to a very different conclusion than Maison: The Western governments that have recognized Israel are well aware that states are sovereign and that it is not possible to impose conditions on statehood; accordingly, their statements are formulated in a soft and ultimately non-binding manner. “Sovereignty is a curious thing. But as France so intimately knows (…), states have the perfect right to do whatever is not prohibited by international law.”
Maison concluded her text with the fear that governments would use the UN General Assembly “under cover of the recognition of a Palestinian pseudo-state” to further undermine international law by disregarding the ICJ opinion, and that international law as a whole would be buried here. Imrais’ realism, on the other hand, sees “the contingency and disenfranchisement of the Palestinian Arabs” as enshrined in UN law itself, together with the “so-called two-state framework” of the 1947 partition plan. In the absence of other resources, the Palestinians could and must now work with this law.
On Monday (September 29, 2025), Ardi Imseis and Rafaëlle Maison will talk to each other in the Jean Jaurès amphitheater in Paris. In Germany, one should listen carefully. Admittedly, the discourse has shifted in Germany as well, with the federal government distancing itself significantly from Netanyahu’s government. It is now even almost possible to say “genocide” without being slandered as anti-Semitic. But the totalitarian “Staatsräson” and the media’s windmill battles in its shadow still obscure the actual lines of conflict. The fruitless pros and cons of German provenance basically revolve around whether Israel should be allowed to do as it pleases or whether it should be forced to do what is best for it; whether the failure of Oslo gives Israel carte blanche or whether Israel must be brought back on the path of Oslo toward “peaceful coexistence.” And whether Germany is isolating itself internationally or whether the world “understands” Germany’s Sonderweg. What is still hardly debatable is the question of recognition in light of the failure of Oslo, from the perspective of what is right and just. In retrospect, Oslo was a serious mistake—a policy of appeasement that ignored all the important issues, shirked international legal obligations, and, in the long term, shifted the balance of power increasingly to the detriment of the Palestinians. This applies to the settlements, it applies to apartheid, it applies to the right of displaced Palestinians to return and to compensation for stolen property.
Germany has decided against recognizing Palestine and, as always, will try to compensate for its lack of responsibility with financial payments. But it is also paying another price: that of ignorance, in Arendt’s sense. In the end, there might even be a case for saying that international law itself, through the partition plan, makes lasting peace impossible. But this discussion is also more likely to take place in France than in Germany.
Statement “Refusal on grounds of conscience. For human rights and compliance with international law,” https://uppsaladeclaration.se/germany/.
While the systematic and targeted starvation of the population in Gaza, with Western and especially German support, is making the genocide of the Palestinians an undeniable fact for more and more people, the question of a boycott of Israel is still taboo, especially in Germany. The so-called BDS movement, co-founded by the Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel (PACBI), was launched in 2004 in response to the failure of Oslo and the question of what nonviolent options for action remained against occupation and disenfranchisement. In Germany, it is indiscriminately considered antisemitic and partly watched by the Office for the Protection of the Constitution as a “suspected extremist case.” But now even the German government can no longer avoid dealing with sanctions and the suspension of cooperation in certain areas. And an increasing number of international scientists are signing letters calling on their governments and employers to stop ignoring the consequences of the situation in Gaza for scientific work – most prominently the letter from more than 1,000 physicists and scientists to the leadership of CERN.
In early summer, Swedish scientists, and scientists working in Sweden, published the so-called Uppsala Declaration, in which they commit themselves, on grounds of conscience, to no longer cooperate with Israeli institutions that have made themselves complicit in illegal occupation, apartheid, genocide, and other crimes under international law. This declaration has well over 2,000 signatures.
The German version has now been published on the same website and is identical to the Swedish version in form and many of its formulations. It explains the decision to boycott Israeli institutions in great detail, citing overwhelming evidence of Israeli universities’ involvement in crimes, and formulates the same principles:
“1. We will not support cooperation with the State of Israel or with its institutions that bear responsibility.
2. We will not promote or publicly support institutionalized exchange with Israeli institutions that bear responsibility.
3. We will not participate in activities organized and/or co-organized by the State of Israel or its complicit institutions.”
In addition, it also addresses the situation in Germany, citing examples of how German universities are disregarding their obligation to comply with international law, institutional links, and how existing cooperation is even to be expanded. And it clarifies at the end: “We explicitly do not call for severing relations with individual Israeli academics. Rather, we firmly reject cooperation with Israeli institutions involved in illegal occupation, apartheid, genocide, and other violations of international law on grounds of conscience.”
I myself hesitated for a while before signing the statement: firstly, because I do not wish to cooperate with non-Israeli institutions that are involved in violations of international law, either, and would prefer to adopt a general demand for universities to commit themselves to human rights. Like the Human Rights Policy of Ghent University in the Netherlands: “In a nutshell: Ghent University does not cooperate with organizations involved in serious or systematic human rights violations, nor does it want projects to lead directly or indirectly to human rights violations.” Secondly, I can imagine ethical dilemmas in which it is unavoidable to enter into undesirable cooperation. However, my main concern at this point is to put pressure on German institutions, the German government, and the German public to immediately cease all military and police cooperation with a state led by right-wing extremists, and to save Palestinian lives and the lives of the hostages. That is why I am signing this letter.
Invisible University for Ukraine. Essays on Democracy at War, ed. by Ostap Sereda, Balázs Trencsényi, Tetiana Zemliakova, Guillaume Lancereau, Ithaka/London (Cornell University Press) 2024.
It is a global phenomenon: Universities around the world are under massive pressure—from defunding, subjugation to market logic, the elimination of entire departments, political interventions, and attacks on academic freedom and freedom of teaching, to the targeted physical destruction of university buildings, the killing of scientists, and “scholasticide” when the aim is to strike at an entire people. Since 2022, the Invisible University for Ukraine (IUFU) has been offering online courses for Ukrainian students to help them work through their war experiences and the genocidal threat posed by Russian aggression, using innovative academic methods; almost 1,000 students have benefited from the courses so far. The collection “Invisible University for Ukraine. Essays on Democracy at War,” published just under a year ago, features very moving personal contributions from students and professors at the highest level of reflection in the Ukrainian context, showing what one would wish for in any other context: a new, honest, unreserved way of generating knowledge at the university.
“The need for uncommon institutional responses to the autocratic pressure on higher education has been a recurring topic of discussion since the late 2000s,” write Ostap Sereda und Balázs Trencsényi in the introduction; as early as that, the “Western” model of university education had already lost credibility in Eastern Europ. “The Invisible University was also a response to this crisis of academia, experimenting, under the pressure of an unprecedented situation of mass dislocation of students and scholars, to relink the educational, research, and civic components in unconventional and innovative ways.” The Invisible University does not see itself as a solitary entity, but rather as part of a cross-temporal and cross-spatial network, connected to other similar initiatives in the 20th and 21st centuries, in a history that is briefly and impressively traced in the introduction.
These initiatives, whether online or offline, have and always had a few things in common: a transnational, global perspective that combines global and regional perspectives and transcends national boundaries; a radically democratic approach that seeks dialogue rather than hierarchies; and a connection between the academic and the existential dimensions. The Russian war against Ukraine is the immediate catalyst for the Invisible University for Ukraine and the conditioner of its tensions, specifically: Although the IUFU works against Eurocentrism and uses postcolonial tools, it sees itself in a struggle that is, in addition to survival, about insisting on common “European” values. It must endure the fact that its civil engagement can conflict with the survival imperatives of war when it becomes critical of its own government. And it faces the (resolved) dilemma of how to deal with Russian colleagues as its main goal is to work toward a non-Russocentric understanding of the post-Soviet space and as it consistently boycots all Russian state institutions.
The individual contributions show how the existential and the academic can be integrated and convey different, complementary lessons from the war. It is above all the dramatic changes in the concept of time brought about by the war – the altered temporalities – that have a profound effect on knowledge. The contributions spell out what this means in concrete terms: in the daily struggle for survival with the “sobering absurdity of death” (Denys Tereshchenko), where sacrifices are demanded and one makes them, or one doesn’t; in dealing with the media side of the war, the “digital witnessing” in the face of a volatile global public, and the ignorance of even well-intentioned reactions; but above all in readjusting the relationship between participation and observation in research and teaching. Only through honest dialogue can a future remain conceivable with new ideas – “my war is about creating spaces of dialogue” (Balázs Trencsényi). The feeling of “professional failure,” of “should have known” (Diána Vonnák), “wading through unmetabolized experience and a cacophony of guesswork, motivated speech, misinformation, and rudimentary analysis,” is made fruitful as a lesson in epistomology: “We could call it a fog of war in the epistemic sense, but if we flip this around, this fog is ever-present, the stuff of fieldwork, and navigating it is a predicament of any contemporary empirical research.”
The anthology ends with an overview of all the courses that IUFU has taught since 2022 and the very moving and sometimes also funny short biographies of the contributors in the shadow of war. Tetiana Zemliakova, for example, who, apart from the IUFU, can only focus on the ontology of time: “She always knew she was living through the last days of historical humankind, but she could never guess these would be so stupid.”
On June 4, 2025, the Federal Association of the Research and Information Centers on Antisemitism (RIAS) presented its 2024 annual report in Berlin at the Federal Press Conference. RIAS is an organization that continuously monitors antisemitic incidents in Germany, on the basis of which government agencies and politicians take measures to combat antisemitism. It emerged from the “antisemitism-critical” contexts of a strongly victim-centered fight against racism in the 2000s, when the Amadeu Antonio Foundation and other so-called “antideutsche” players abandoned power-critical analyses, succumbed to the temptations of state proximity, and began to participate in the state’s instrumentalization of the concept of victimhood.
According to the RIAS 2024 report and statistics, the number of antisemitic incidents in Germany has risen dramatically, as in previous years. No one can doubt that antisemitism, even in its narrowest sense—as hostility toward Jews because they are Jews—has increased and continues to increase. Nothing would be more necessary than careful statistics, a reliable database, and appropriate monitoring to better understand the forms, causes, extent, and locations of contemporary antisemitism, regardless of its political camp, and to combat it more effectively.
However, RIAS works with premises and under conditions that conflict with good scientific practice—and this is not remedied by the president of the German University Rectors’ Conferenceembracing it. The association uses a definition of antisemitism—the IHRA working definition—that is legally and academically controversial, if not rejected as unsuitable because it conflates things that should be differentiated. Instead of in dubio pro reo, it operates on the principle that a finding of “Israel-related antisemitism” is justified even in cases of strong doubt – in the alleged interest of the actual, supposed, or potential victims. It equates any form of anti-Zionism with antisemitism almost without hesitation, dehistoricizes and essentializes it, and imposes often bizarre interpretations on ambiguous and debatable statements. And it does not reflect on the fact that by deciding who or what is antisemitic, it exercises power and can destroy lives without granting the possibility of appeal.
I will quote here from the 2024 annual report just two passages that, in my view, show how irresponsibly RIAS handles this power and how little it cares about empirical evidence and accuracy:
“RIAS classified just under 7% of all [antisemitic] gatherings as having a left-wing anti-imperialist background. On the occasion of the so-called Nakba Day—a Palestinian and Islamist campaign day against the founding of the State of Israel—the Marxist-Leninist Party of Germany (MLPD) held a rally in Erfurt in May. One speech stated: ‘Israel is no longer the land of persecuted Jews, but a great power […]. Israel has become the perpetrator.’ In the spirit of an antisemitic perpetrator-victim reversal, Jews are denied their status as victims of the Shoah and instead accused of comparable crimes. With reference to the accusation that Israel is committing genocide, the Shoah was relativized: “If you take the definition of genocide so narrowly that the entire people is destroyed, then there was no genocide against the Jews either.” RIAS includes accusations of genocide against Israel as antisemitic incidents according to the IHRA working definition if they deny the Jewish right to self-determination, if they use symbols or images associated with traditional antisemitism, or if they draw comparisons between current Israeli policy and Nazi policy.” (p. 23)
The contradictions and distortions of fact are obvious: 1) Nakba Day may be misused in some contexts, but the Nakba – the expulsion and flight of over 700,000 Arab Palestinians in the wake of the founding of the State of Israel and the Palestine War (1947–1949) – did happen, and it can and should be remembered. 2) It is a fact that Israel as a state, and not just with its current government, is a major power and, since 1967, has also been a “perpetrator” under international law. 3) The incriminated sentence does not relativize the Shoah, it clearly acknowledges it as a genocide. Nor does it rule out that it was more than genocide, that it was singular even. 4) One may not find the statements particularly sensitive, but they neither deny the Jewish right to self-determination, nor do they use traditional antisemitic symbols or images, nor do they compare Israeli policy with National Socialism.
A second example: “Meanwhile, German politics seems to respond to the outlined increase in antisemitic incidents in particularly political contexts in 2024 with increasing habituation to antisemitic incidents and their normalization. For example, it took over a year for the Bundestag to pass an antisemitism resolution that was not supported by all democratic factions and groups.” (p. 6)
On the one hand, the criticism of the Bundestag’s antisemitism resolution had well-considered, substantive reasons that RIAS fails to mention. There was an alternative resolution drafted by a group of renowned professors that the Bundestag did not admit to the vote and that some members of parliament would have liked to support, who then abstained from voting. On the other hand, the fact that the Bundestag resolution—passed, unfortunately, by an overwhelming majority—received two handfuls of abstentions and not 100 percent approval, indicates above all that there is a normalization of authoritarian discourse and a growing acceptance of authoritarian politics. 100 percent approval in votes and elections may have been the norm in the totalitarian GDR, but it should not be expected from a free parliament.
One cannot help but get the impression that such passages in the RIAS reports are not solely attributable to intellectual weakness and institutional irresponsibility. Rather, a straw man is being constructed. The “Israel-related antisemitism” that RIAS has declared war on is largely an insinuation and primarily serves to stigmatize the growing protests against Israeli actions in Gaza and the West Bank, and to justify authoritarian policies in Germany. The straw man argument works all the better as indeed genuine Israel-related antisemitism does exist.
That is why it is important to insist on differentiation: it is not antisemitic to address the problematic genesis of the State of Israel – and thus also the problems of its “existence”; rather, the crimes of the current right-wing extremist government in Israel cannot be understood without knowledge of the State’s fundamental problems. On the other hand, it is very much antisemitic to shift the blame for this problematic genesis onto “others” – onto the Israeli citizens alone, not to speak shifting it onto the Jews. Instead, it must be recognized how our state system as a whole bears responsibility––and especially Germany. It is equally antisemitic to reduce Jews to an exclusive and expansive state defined by ethnicity and religion; yet this is precisely what the RIAS report suggests.
At least RIAS seemed to be adapting to the small changes in discourse and the shift in sentiment that the German government showed temporarily in the first half of June. At its press conference on June 4, RIAS moved away from categorizing it as antisemitic without further ado when Israel’s occupation is described as “apartheid” or Israel’s warfare in Gaza as “genocide.” Now, it says, context should be the determining factor. However, the 2024 report shows that talking about “Israeli apartheid” was included in the statistics without taking into account the context. The slogan “No Pride for Apartheid” was counted as an antisemitic incident, even though it explicitly referred to repression in the West Bank and Gaza. One can only speculate whether in the 2025 annual report, accusations of “apartheid” and “genocide” will still appear as antisemitic incidents or not. However, rather than inconsistently and tacitly abandoning untenable positions, it would be better to abandon the IHRA definition’s short-sightedness altogether or to open up a balanced discussion of different definitions and ensure transparency in monitoring. RIAS should also apologize to those who have been and continue to be defamed as antisemitic without justification, especially Palestinians and “left-wing” Jews.
A few days before the presentation of the RIAS report, probably not by chance, the Jewish organization Diaspora Alliance published a counter-report by Israeli journalist and data analyst Iltay Mashiach. It is the only systematic investigation and critique of RIAS as an institution, and of its reports to date, but only covers the years up to 2022, as it was completed in September 2023. The massacre of October 7, with all its consequences, which also affected Iltay Mashiach personally, made it impossible to publish it earlier. The fact that the German discourse is unable to criticize RIAS and once again leaves the criticism to outsiders, may also have contributed to the long delay in publication.
The counter-report shares the RIAS reports’ diagnosis of growing, threatening antisemitism and supports the basic aim of the monitoring. However, it criticizes RIAS’s methods, in particular the decontextualization of “incidents,” the lack of transparency in data collection, and what it calls an “eternalist” understanding of antisemitism. This refers to the essentializing and ahistorical assumption that antisemitism is always the same everywhere—and potentially equally dangerous—and that intention plays no role. As an example of the absurd results of this approach, Mashiach reconstructs in the introduction an “incident” classified as antisemitic by RIAS, namely a speech given by Israeli-Jewish historian Moshe Zimmermann on Holocaust Remembrance Day 2020 before the state parliament of Saxony-Anhalt:
“Zimmermann’s lecture to German parliamentarians that day examined the 200 years of what he termed ‘the twisted road to Auschwitz.’ It aimed to show that it is the early moments of looming atrocities––those moments that are hard to discern in real time because developments are too slow and their accumulation too gradual––that should really alarm us. ‘Never again Auschwitz? This is too obvious,’ Zimmermann said. It is rather, he continued, the modest beginnings that could eventually lead to Auschwitz that deserve the warning never again.’ He further emphasized that his speech, being about ‘ubiquitous human behavior and universal history,’ applied to the entire world, including Israelis––and, in their case, ‘not only from a victim perspective.’” (p. 9)
In the RIAS Report 2020, this speech was anonymized as an incident because it suggested an equation of “Israeli policy toward the Palestinians with the antisemitic policy of National Socialism.” RIAS spokesman Daniel Poensgen recently confirmed in an interview with the taz that this misinterpretation was not a slip-up: “Here, in a German parliament, only Israelis were mentioned as a group that must be careful not to repeat German crimes. We gave particular weight to the context of the statement [made before a German parliament] and included this situation in the statistics as an incident.”
RIAS claims that Zimmermann referred “exclusively to Israelis,” even though he explicitly had addressed his speech to the “whole world” and had applied his conclusions “also to Israelis”, as part of the world. The mechanism that makes such disregard for evidence possible is a victimization that has been made compatible with state and power interests. RIAS wants to strengthen the “perspective of Jews,” and reduced it to a victim’s perspective. The perspectives of Jews who do not share RIAS’s premises—Moshe Zimmermann, the Diaspora Alliance, Iltay Mashiach, and many others—are not only ignored, but are inadvertently placed on the other side, the side of the perpetrators. Moshe Zimmermann’s speech became an “antisemitic incident” because its universalization of the lessons of Auschwitz, before a German parliament, questioned the victim’s perspective as the only possible perspective for Jews. With this understanding, even non-Jews who defend this mono-perspectivism can become “victims” of antisemitism. The fact that Moshe Zimmermann, as a universalist and, incidentally, a descendant of Holocaust survivors, is certainly not an antisemite was irrelevant to RIAS: “In principle, the intention behind antisemitic statements does not play a major role in our assessment,” Poensgen said in the interview.
From there, we can also explain the discrepancy that, according to RIAS, German universities are allegedly a hotbed of antisemitism, with a disproportionate number of “antisemitic incidents”; although a study by the University of Konstanz in April 2025 came to the opposite conclusion that “antisemitic attitudes are less pronounced among students than in the general population.” According to the Konstanz study, 20 percent of the population exhibits “general antisemitism,” but only six percent of students do. The proportion of “Israel-related antisemitism,” as defined by the IHRA, is 10 percent of the population and seven percent of students. However, RIAS does not care whether the students are actually antisemitic or not. It suffices to count a high number of red triangles and Intifada slogans, and to combine them with the serious assault on Lahav Shapira by a fellow student, to create a murderous scenario that is seemingly highly dangerous for all Jewish students.
Mashiach works through all the methodological problems of RIAS’s reports and their consequences: the disregard for intentions and the “eternity argument”; the “overemphasis on Israel-related antisemitism in external communication”, without that emphasis being supported by the data; the bias in the interpretation of Israel-related statements or symbols; the thin and one-sided justifications; the decontextualization and lack of transparency; the unresolved question of how the power of interpretation in “decoding antisemitic codes” can actually be legitimized and made accountable; the discrediting and stigmatization of Palestinian narratives and the general suspicion against them; and, as the flip side of this, the strengthening of the nationalist Israeli settler narrative and the concealment of political and propagandistic objectives by branding protests against it as antisemitic; and finally, the promotion of anti-Muslim, anti-Arab, and anti-Palestinian racism.
RIAS has not yet commented on the content of the Diaspora Alliance’s counter-report, but has merely defamed it as a baseless and malicious attempt to discredit its findings. It is apparently unable to respond to the points of criticism in a factual and substantive manner. Indeed, it is not even able to spot the minor inaccuracies in the counter-report that it could exploit. At one point, the counter-report refers to a foreword by Josef Schuster, President of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, in the 2021 annual report of RIAS Bavaria, which allegedly contained anti-Arab or anti-Muslim statements. However, Schuster’s statement, which was slightly misquoted, came from an interview in 2015.
But instead of burdening a freelance Israeli journalist with the hard work and responsibility, researchers in Germany should take on the job, critically examine the work of RIAS and ensure that a viable data set is finally created using open, debatable definitions of racism and antisemitism. We must put an end to an understanding of antisemitism that uncritically and indiscriminately subsumes anti-Zionism under antisemitism and denounces criticism—even fundamental criticism—of Israel as inherently antisemitic. Above all, transparency must be established, and intransparency must not be justified with alleged victim protection: 80 percent of the “incidents” recorded by RIAS in 2024 were not directed against individuals; there is therefore no reason not to publish them. Fears that criticism of pro-Zionist institutions––be it Israel, the Central Council of Jews in Germany, RIAS, or the antisemitism commissioner Felix Klein––might negatively affect the protection of Jews must be addressed in ways other than authoritarian, reality-distorting assertions. For while human rights violations and serious war crimes in Gaza and the West Bank are taking on genocidal proportions, but continue to be supported by Germany with weapons and propagandistic justification, antisemitic conspiracy theories are indeed also proliferating. The dubious methods employed by RIAS feed these theories, rather than combat them.
A. Dirk Moses: Nach dem Genozid. Grundlage für eine neue Erinnerungskultur [“After genocide. foundations for a new culture of memory], Berlin (Matthes & Seitz) 2023, 160 S.
“After Genocide” – it is difficult these days not to relate the title of the heavily abridged German version of Dirk Moses’ groundbreaking 600-page work ‘Problems of Genocide,’ to Gaza, where Palestinian life is likely to soon cease to exist. But it is precisely in relation to Gaza that the other, actual meaning of the title makes sense: that the accusation of genocide itself is not sufficient to prevent these crimes and that it obscures rather than clarifies them. While the realization is beginning to sink in that Israel’s actions in Gaza are indeed genocide, it is already too late for tens of thousands of people who have been killed, and one senses that the fixation on the genocide paradigm itself may have contributed to this. The institutions of international law are collapsing, and in the moment of their decline, their birth defects are becoming visible.
Unlike the full English version, Moses’ German book makes almost no mention of Palestine. The contemporary case studies are primarily Russia’s actions in Ukraine, but also Sudan, Syria, Myanmar, and China. It was completed before October 7 and probably also takes German sensitivities into account. However, even without explicit reference to Palestine, its main thesis is incompatible with Germany’s state-driven culture of remembrance. In a nutshell: The 1948 Genocide Convention claimed that crimes such as the Holocaust were to be prevented in the future. However, its surgical distinction between military and genocidal intentions (the former aimed at defeat, the latter at destruction) allowed genocidal warfare to escape the narrow definition of the Genocide Convention. Moses says that genocidal and other forms of mass violence against civilians are driven by a pseudo-rationality, namely the pursuit of “permanent security” by preventing anticipated attacks. This is expressed in the unbounded use of terms like “security,” “prevention,” “final solution,” etc. The pseudo-rationality of permanent security normalises genocides but also justifies mass killings and sieges of civilians in non-genocidal or not yet genocidal wars which react to resistance as well as anticipate future threats: with carpet bombing and drone strikes, with the use of nuclear weapons, with starvation and slow death, with colonial crimes of all kinds. In practice, military and genocidal logic and intentions very often go together and are intertwined.
The fact that every child can become a terrorist and every innocent person a “human shield”, in conflicts where the ultimate goal is to combat resistance, makes horrific crimes possible. These then become, almost imperceptibly to the viewer, ethnically and racially charged and escalate into genocide. The targeted populations know from the outset, of course, what criminal dynamics they are exposed to. But the perpetrators, the bystanders, the accomplices can rationalize the crimes by referring to defense and permanent security. Thus “Never again Hamas” inevitably results in the destruction of Gaza, the mass killing of Palestinian civilians, and ethnic cleansing, under the ‘humanitarian’ pretext that this is also done in the interest of the victim population.
The German majority society—in the media, politics, and in academia—has still not forgiven Dirk Moses for exposing the “catechism” of their state-sanctioned memory culture by simply describing its components. With his intervention, Moses had merely suggested getting rid of the ethnic assumptions of the German memory culture and developing it further so that it becomes inclusive of victim memories that are obscured by the singularity thesis with its fixation on ideology.
The German “Historians’ Dispute 2.0,” or whatever one wants to call it, is now unfortunately tainted by, among other things, the fact that Dirk Moses continues to be regularly defamed and associated with Holocaust deniers and relativizers. A discourse analysis of the self-contradictions and empirical falsehoods with which his reputation has been destroyed in the German media is still pending. The May issue of Sehepunkte [points of views], a widely read review journal for historical sciences, recently again alleged in passing that “Moses and others refuse to recognize any special qualities in the Shoah or in Nazi anti-Semitism that fundamentally distinguish the National Socialist mass murder of Jews from colonial genocides,” —and no German colleagues are coming to Moses’ defense. It should go without saying that Moses is aware of the “special qualities” of the Holocaust and the differences between it and colonial genocides. But he analyzes them in their historical context, with the particular temporality that the Holocaust had:
“They planned the elimination of enemy groups in advance. Unlike ‘classical’ imperial violence, much of their violence was deliberately planned. They tried to set the course of history. Seen in this light, the Nazi Reich and its notorious extermination policy mark the culmination of centuries of empire building and the destruction of enemies, both domestic and foreign, whether real or imagined. This imperial project was characterized by a ‘redemptive imperialism’ [Erlösungsimperialismus] because, as Hitler said, it would lead to the historical ‘solution of the German question,’ for which ‘there can only be one path: violence.’ The ‘redemptive anti-Semitism’ [Erlösungsantisemitismus] of the National Socialists was an integral part of this project; after all, the extermination of ‘the Jews’ also represented a fundamental answer to ‘the German question’ for them.” (pp. 104-105)
The contradictory, spiteful, and uncomprehendinginsinuations that have been leveled against him in Germany were refuted in part elsewhere, but this work might be futile. German memory culture must first free itself from nationalistic misinterpretations of the “lessons of the Holocaust.” A new mass murder of Jews, such as that which took place on October 7, 2023, will not be prevented with the German “Staatsräson” [reason of the state] and its illusions of permanent security. Instead, Germany will become increasingly entangled in war crimes and ongoing genocides. As is now the case in Gaza. That is what Dirk Moses is concerned about.
Alexandra Senfft: Ignorierte Opfer. Sinti und Roma kämpfen weiter um die Erinnerung an den NS-Völkermord [Victims ignored. Sinti and Roma continue to fight for remembrance of the Nazi genocide], Forum Wissenschaft (2025) 1, 29-32.
Germany’s commitment to remembering the Holocaust and its historical obligations to the Jews has become a largely ritualized part of its political discourse. However, these German commitments apply far less to the other group of victims whom the Nazis sought to exterminate completely, the Sinti and Roma, even though they were disenfranchised and murdered with the same brutal systematicity as the Jews. After the war, there was a long delay in recognizing the genocide against the Porajmos. To this day, they experience racism, exclusion and discrimination, and are usually marginalized in collective commemorations – if they appear at all.
Alexandra Senfft describes the controversy surrounding the memorial in Berlin’s Tiergarten, which commemorates the Sinti and Roma murdered by the Nazi regime, as a particularly revealing case. It was only in 2012 that it was finally inaugurated, after long institutional resistance and tenaciously stalled on the part of politicians. It was designed by the Israeli artist Dani Karavan (1930-2021), who created an architectural structure composed of sound, sculpture and nature, surrounded by trees. Since 2020, however, the Senate and Deutsche Bahn have been planning a new S-Bahn line, “S21,” whose second phase of construction will tunnel under the memorial. Originally, the memorial was to be completely demolished and then temporarily removed. In the end, a solution was found that will leave the architecture itself somewhat intact, but it is expected that the surrounding trees, which are an integral part of the concept, will be cut down. For many Sinti and Roma, this is a desecration of the site.
Dani Karavan, who died in 2021, supported the Sinti and Roma protest in 2020, deploring that “the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (opened in 2005) would never have been treated in this way”. Senfft describes how Karavan had already noticed while working on the memorial “that Romani-speaking people were considered second-class victims: ‘As a Jew, I can say that. Nobody is interested in the Sinti and Roma.’” In July 2024, Karavan’s family co-initiated a letter of protest against the S-Bahn line, which was signed by numerous artists and cultural figures. So far, however, it seems that the risks of damage to the memorial are not being taken seriously – although we should probably be glad that things have not turned out even worse.
I find this case particularly interesting for two reasons that are not reflected in the article: First, the Karavan family’s involvement demonstrates a solidarity across victim groups that can be observed in many other contexts. Relatives of Holocaust victims use their positionality to help relatives of Porajmos victims. Even today, Jews and Jewish Israelis stand up for Palestinians; Ukrainians show solidarity with Palestinians, as do Roma; Palestinians show solidarity with Sudanese, and so on. The shared experience of marginalization, disenfranchisement, and threatened or actual genocide gives rise to resistance to attempts by the majority society to pit victim groups against each other and to privilege some over others.
On the other hand, the case also points beyond this. The fact that Dani Karavan was Jewish certainly helped to establish and maintain the memorial for the murdered Sinti and Roma in the German culture of remembrance, and may even have been decisive. But this use of Jewish-Israeli positionality in German remembrance culture is full of ambivalence. Karavan’s first major piece of memorial architecture was a monument to the Palmach Brigade in the Negev Desert near Beersheba, built between 1963 and 1968 – an ensemble of concrete, desert acacia trees, water, and wind chimes. The Palmach was a moderate Zionist paramilitary force that collaborated with the British before the creation of Israel, establishing and defending settlements on the one hand, and fighting the extremist Zionist terrorist organizations of the Irgun on the other. Had the Battle of El Alamein been won and Nazi Germany invaded Palestine, the Palmach would have defended the Jews living there from certain death in the Holocaust. Instead, they fought in the War of Independence against the Arab states and played a key role in the Nakba. In the Negev, where Karavan’s memorial to the Palmach is located, they carried out the ethnic expulsion of the Palestinian Bedouin from their villages; they were given 48 hours to move to Gaza. When Karavan began work on the memorial in 1963, it had been only 15 years since the entire Arab population of Beersheba had been expelled or killed in massacres.
From a narrow anti-Zionist perspective, Karavan’s position and his acceptance of state commissions such as the Palmach memorial might disqualify him from creating a memorial to the murdered Sinti and Roma. But I see it differently: I would like to see a holistic examination of these issues of memory politics and memory culture. The memorial in Tiergarten is important to the Roma and Sinti community and is accepted by the victims’ relatives as a place of remembrance – whereas the “Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe”, in the words of Paul Spiegel, was always intended to be only “the official memorial of the Federal Republic of Germany” and not a “memorial to the Jews in Germany”. The Roma wish for a respectful, i.e. non-ritualized, non-bureaucratized and non-politicized approach to the memorial must be respected. At the same time, we should reflect on the price that must always be paid for the state’s recognition of the victim’s status in the official culture of remembrance, which in this case is once again being paid by the Palestinians. This is the only way to prevent solidarity between victim groups from becoming exclusive and, in turn, marginalizing others.