Silence on Gaza is Complicity: We Must Do Better
As I reflect on this past year, I find myself at a loss for words of hope or progress amid Gaza’s relentless devastation. Families incinerated in their homes, lifeless children pulled from rubble, and basic human needs — food, water, shelter, safety — systematically destroyed. This isn’t collateral damage. It’s deliberate, state-sponsored genocide.
The violence against Palestinians results from decades of systematic oppression designed to dominate, dehumanize, and dispossess. As U.N. Special Rapporteur Francesca Albanese has said, “Israel has… killed, maimed, made orphans and homeless, tortured and persecuted millions of Palestinians.” This isn’t war gone wrong; it’s oppression by design.
Over 43,000 lives have been lost, nearly 70% of them women and children. More than 1.9 million are displaced, forced into overcrowded camps, struggling to survive under unimaginable suffering.
What makes Gaza even more horrifying isn’t just the scale of violence — it’s the hypocrisy of those enabling it.
Billions in military aid from the U.S., Germany, and other Western powers sustain this destruction under the guise of “defense,” making complicity an active, deliberate choice. Hoping for moral courage or leadership from world leaders feels naïve; geopolitics is their game, and they’ll always play it.
What troubles me most is the silence and inaction within our own sector — the leaders and organizations that claim to defend human rights, gender equality, justice of any kind, and particularly sexual and reproductive health and rights. Too many have been largely absent.
I’ve been asked why I speak out so frequently on Gaza but not on Sudan, the DRC, or Ukraine. Let me be clear: the violence being perpetrated against girls and women in these countries is no less horrific. But in those cases, world leaders and our sector condemn the atrocities without hesitation. No one pretends that the people of Sudan or the DRC deserve what is happening to them, nor does anyone defend the perpetrators’ “right” to commit these crimes against humanity.
In Gaza, the response is different. The violence isn’t just ignored; it’s actively supported, justified, and perpetuated by the same powers and institutions that claim to uphold human rights, social justice, and the rules-based international order. These are the same entities that loudly denounce oppression elsewhere. The hypocrisy is staggering, and I can’t forgive it.
Too many of us have been compromised in our duty to speak out, ignoring the fact that silence is complicity. Double standards are everywhere — in UN agencies, government bodies, and the biggest iNGOs — exposing the growing gap between a largely Global South workforce and Global North leadership that calls the shots.
Hypocrisy goes beyond silence to active narrative manipulation. Reports have revealed that some humanitarian organizations are editing articles about Gaza, softening language critical of Israel, and reframing stark realities to fit external pressures. This isn’t just about silencing dissent; it’s about shaping public perception to align with the interests of those in power. It’s a betrayal.
Censorship, often directed from the top, is alarmingly pervasive. Fear of losing funding, facing political backlash, or tarnishing reputations drives organizations to silence themselves. Leaders who avoid naming oppressors or obscure the truth with neutral language betray the very principles of global justice they claim to uphold.
This sets a dangerous precedent. By prioritizing comfort over courage and appeasement over advocacy, organizations send a clear signal to oppressors: their actions will face no real consequences. It emboldens those committing atrocities to act with impunity while silencing the voices that should be heard the loudest.
Where are the organizations and leaders who claim to champion justice? Too often, their voices are absent, or when they do speak, their words are so watered down they barely resonate. Fear of backlash or claims that Gaza “isn’t their issue” are no excuse.
Silence isn’t neutral; it’s a choice. And in the face of genocide, it’s complicity.
Fortunately, I’ve also seen another side. Some larger international organizations have consistently and courageously spoken out, undeterred by the repercussions and backlash. I am proud to have been associated with CARE and Oxfam, who have been steadfast in this regard. I must also commend the incredible role played by the International Planned Parenthood Federation (IPPF), which connects the issue of genocide with reproductive justice on a global scale. And, of course, I deeply appreciate the work of the many remarkable humanitarian organizations operating on the ground in Gaza — risking their careers and their lives to deliver life-saving aid.
These are the people who remind me why we must keep fighting. Their defiance, their courage, keeps me going.
The genocide in Gaza is not just a regional crisis — it is a global fight for justice and humanity’s shared moral obligation. Social justice organizations and leaders must move beyond neutrality and take a stand that reflects the values they claim to uphold. Advocacy cannot be selective — choosing to speak out only when it’s politically convenient erodes the very foundations of social justice itself.
I reiterate the urgent need for a ceasefire, immediate humanitarian access, and lasting peace grounded in gender equality and human rights for Palestinians. This goes beyond policy or diplomacy — this is a test of our values as advocates, as human beings.
The world is failing Gaza. By staying silent, we’re failing justice itself. If we continue to choose comfort over courage, silence over action, then what do we truly stand for?
We cannot afford silence in the face of genocide. Silence isn’t just complicity. Silence kills.
