We must recognise the intertwined roots of today’s climate and ecological crisis as more than just increased emissions or intensifying extreme weather events. Their origins lie in the political-economic system that breaks down life into profit through relentless extraction and exploitation. This system requires a constant source of capital to maintain profits, which necessitates the continued expansion and use of fossil fuels and natural resources. In this system, the Earth and all life forms⁶, especially those in the Global South⁷, are treated as expendable resources to be price-tagged and consumed⁸. This is fossil capitalism, where human and non-human life forms are consumed and destroyed for power and profit. It is borne of colonial violence⁹ and maintained through militarism.

   Western colonisation was the ultimate expansion of territorial control in search of new resources to maintain profits. The large-scale land theft and the enslavement of peoples are the foundation of today’s exploitative global economy. It has left humanity with massive amounts of resources, factories, materials, and fossil-fuelled energy, but not for everyone. Today’s system produces and maintains vast disparities in wealth, living conditions, and access to resources. Almost half of the human population lives in conditions of poverty and deprivation, and more than half of those cannot meet basic needs¹⁰.

   The destruction of life is systemic: it encompasses people and nature. It is imperative that we recognise the violence that these systems commit against nature and our planet. The struggle for our commons–land, water, seeds, forests–is a global one. Nature has always been at the centre of resilient, collective living, but under the fossil capitalist system of extraction they are being systematically enclosed, privatised, weaponised, and destroyed. Reclaiming our commons is as much a climate and ecological justice issue as one of liberation and resistance.

   At the extreme end of this struggle is the fight against ecocide–the large-scale, mass destruction of the environment and ecosystems “with the knowledge that there is a substantial likelihood of severe and either widespread or long-term damage to the environment”.²⁴ Ecocide results from war, pollution, and the over-exploitation of resources. We must recognise that ecocide is intrinsically linked with genocide in that the destruction of land also fragments and destroys the social-ecological and cultural connections between people and nature.²⁵ It is used as a tool to erase the existence of people by severely degrading the conditions of life needed to live peacefully on that land.

 The evidence in Palestine is overwhelming: over 31 million tonnes of CO2 released from the bombing of Gaza, debris clearing, and rebuilding.²⁶ UNMAS estimates over 37 million tonnes of waste rubble contaminated with 800,000 tonnes of asbestos,²⁷ heavy metals, hazardous chemicals, and unexploded ordnance have accumulated on the streets²⁸ and into the soil.²⁹ The soil across the Occupied Territories has in fact been poisoned for generations. Today, two-thirds of Gaza's farmland have been damaged or destroyed and 70% of tree cover has been eliminated.³⁰ The sea has turned into sewage, and numerous aquifers have become salinised beyond repair.³¹

   The wide-scale destruction of tree orchards alone amounts to ecologically-induced genocide.³² All of these destructions engender not just environmental harm for generations, but also the very conditions that sustain peaceful life for Palestinians. All of this is occurring as a result of Israeli actions, with their full knowledge of the current and future damage inflicted.

   The genocide and ecocide in Gaza since 2023 mark the significant escalation of a decades-long strategy of settler-colonial violence and environmental destruction. The Israeli occupation uses fragmentation, dispossession, and destruction of the land to erase native Palestinian life, sovereignty, and self-determination.³³ For decades, various organisations have documented the intentional and systematic erosion of environmental conditions caused by military and settler activity. This includes extensive explosions, destruction of agricultural lands and orchards, destruction of critical infrastructure such aswater treatment and harvesting facilities, and waste and sewage management and treatment facilities, all resulting in the wide-spread contamination of air, water, and soil.³⁴

   The military routinely and indiscriminately deploys tear gas and rubber bullets in the West Bank, which leech toxins into the soil and water.³⁵ Israel’s “scorched earth” tactic in Gaza has devastated the land andpoisoned soil and water with heavy metals, chemicals, explosives, and other toxic substances that will last for generations.³⁶ This complete environmental devastation in Gaza alone amounts to ecocide.³⁷ We must acknowledge that this environmental destruction is not collateral damage - it is policy.

   The occupation has stolen agricultural lands and fragmented ecosystems through zoning and segregation walls, eroding Palestinian livelihoods and sovereignty.³⁸ Palestinian land is regularly “confiscated” for the construction and expansion of illegal settlements, often targeting ecologically rich areas: tree orchards, wild and medicinal plants, grazing fields, and critical water resources.³⁹ In fact, Israel’s “technological innovations” in water management operate on the theft of water resources and the explicit denial of Palestinians’ fair access.⁴⁰ Furthermore, in August 2025, the Israeli military raided the last remaining seed bank (the Seed Multiplication Unit in Hebron), which was safeguarding over 70 varieties of indigenous heirloom seeds.⁴¹ This is a deliberate war on Palestinian survival.

   But the occupation doesn’t just destroy, it also constructs–but only for Israeli settlers. It erases the Indigenous land in order to destroy the people, and rebuilds to hide the destruction. This is exemplified ecologically through Israel’s planting of non-native pine trees,⁴² which has led to historical wildfires in the region,⁴³ as well as materially through the construction of illegal settlements on the ruins of Palestinian homes.⁴⁴

   We must recognise that this is a core strategy of global capitalism, militarism, and settler colonialism. It fragments, displaces, and destroys land and people to ensure that extractive structures and inequalities persist. These are not isolated crises - they are the footprint of a world system that values profit and domination over life. The global ecological crisis and climate breakdown cannot be understood separately from systems of extraction and domination. Calls for climate action that fail to address the root causes of the crisis are therefore merely greenwashing.

   We must recognise that our current economy is incompatible with knowledge systems that treat nature as equal and inseparable from humans. For colonialism and fossil fuel capitalism to persist, settler entities–states, corporations, and individuals–have had to systematically devalue and erase Indigenous knowledge systems.

    Under fossil capitalism, nature is outside of and separate from humans. It is something to be conquered and tamed, often violently: a form of capital input to the industrial-capitalist machine. Indigenous views on nature are relational–there is no arbitrary separation of the two. Instead, humans and nature are understood as intrinsically interconnected. Land is not made to be conquered and extracted from. Rather, it cares for us and we care for it. Nature is a being with agency that deserves the same respect we extend to our own family.

   The “land management” strategies used by settlers and Indigenous populations are a direct reflection of this difference. One of Israel’s most parroted claims is that Zionist settlers “made the desert bloom”⁴⁵ with their superior agricultural and water management methods. In reality, Palestine is part of the Fertile Crescent, one of the earliest regions in human history where settled agricultural communities developed.⁴⁶ Palestinians have cultivated the land and taken care of nature for thousands of years. The myth intentionally establishes the narrative of expropriating agricultural lands and practices to erase Indigenous practices and replace them with settler colonial extraction.

   From the tactics used against Palestinians to oil pipelines cutting through Indigenous territories on Turtle Island⁴⁷ and lithium extraction contaminating rivers in Latin America,⁴⁸ the logic is the same: extract from the land, control and exploit people and communities, and generate profit for the already wealthy and powerful.

   A core driver of ecological and societal destruction is fossil-fuelled militarism. Increased global militarisation is a violent tool of colonisation and imperialism. Military power has become economically globalised in an unprecedented manner since European and North American colonialism. The world’s wealthiest and most polluting countries are spending billions fortifying their borders and scaling military spending, extracting capital and resources from the Global South to pay for these fortifications.⁵⁰ It not only protects the economic interests of the Global North, but also exacerbates war, conflict, environmental degradation, and inequality, creating a vicious cycle of economic globalisation and militarism.

   The military industrial complex—the global network of individuals, states, and institutions involved in the production, distribution, and application of military technologies—is the structure that allows for colonisation and imperialism to persist through violence against people and our planet. This network is responsible for extreme levels of fossil fuel extraction and consumption, as well as the direct and indirect destruction of environments through extraction, testing, and use of weaponry.⁵¹ Moreover, growing evidence indicates that increasing militarisation, including rising military spending, significantly jeopardises the goal of limiting warming to either 1.5 °C or 2 °C.⁵²

  We must acknowledge that the control regime of Western powers, including the US, UK, and Europe, has been explicitly expanded through increasing militarisation, and in particular through the support of Israel’s military, ensuring a Western stronghold in the Middle East.⁵³ Today, the state of Israel is an extension of the European and North American settler colonies. It is a central node within global networks of trade, finance, infrastructure, oil and gas flows, and transnational profit hoarding.⁵⁴ Between January 2021 and August 2024, 822 European banks and other financial institutions had ties with 58 companies actively participating in illegal Israeli settlements in the Occupied Territories. This includes $211 billion in loans and underwriting, as well as $182 billion in companies’ shares and bonds. These finances are overwhelmingly tied to fossil fuels and the military.⁵⁵

   For decades, Israel has used the Occupied Territories as a testing ground for their military technologies. It has been a laboratory in which Israel has been conducting experiments to perfect weapons of surveillance and killing.⁵⁶ In turn, Israel exports these “battle-tested” and “field-proven” military technologies around the world, profiting from the killing and terrorising of Palestinian men, women, and children.⁵⁷

   We cannot separate these structures from the climate crisis. Decades of extreme militarised occupation and blockade have driven ecological collapse in Palestine and all but eliminated capacities for climate resilience. The UN Development Programme (UNDP) classifies the Israeli occupation as one of the major risks to Palestinian climate resilience, alongside sea-level rise and changing precipitation patterns.⁵⁸ This is in stark contrast to Israel’s claim of being the herald of sustainability in the Middle East.⁵⁹

Israel’s increasing military activities have further led to unfettered carbon emissions. In the first 15 months of the genocide, Israel’s aerial bombardment and ground invasion of Gaza and the long-term cost of clearing and rebuilding will emit more greenhouse gases than the annual total of more than 100 countries combined.⁶⁰

   Moreover, oil is heavily imbued in this genocide. On October 29, 2023, Israel granted 12 offshore gas fields licenses to six companies. Companies such as Eni and Dana Petroleum hold exploration licenses in Zone G, of which over 62% is within Palestinian waters, without consent or compensation. Legal filings describe these activities as “pillage,”⁶¹ a war crime under the Rome Statute, and a violation of the Hague Regulations.⁶²

   It is imperative that we acknowledge the damage that militarism inflicts on our planet. Global financial systems continue to funnel billions into war and surveillance. In 2023, global revenue of the world's largest arms manufacturers like Lockheed Martin, BAE Systems, and Elbit Systems–backed by Western banks and pension funds–saw a 4.2% increase in profits.⁶³ The arms revenues of the largest manufacturers in Israel alone saw unprecedented profits after October 7, increasing by a staggering 15% to $13.6 billion.⁶⁴ At the same time, global spending on arms manufacturing has exceeded $2.7 trillion, with the European Union announcing in early 2025 the intention to further increase military spending.⁶⁵ Meanwhile, global climate financing has yet to reach $2 trillion, a far cry from the most conservative estimate of $6 trillion needed for climate adaptation.⁶⁶ It is clear that fossil-fuelled actors are using the climate crisis as an opportunity to entrench their power rather than address the root causes of climate breakdown. We must recognise the brutal priorities of this global system that values continued extraction and profit over the wellbeing of our planet and people.

   At the same time, we must be critical of techno-optimism and technological “solutions” to the climate crisis. Climate discourse and decision-making spaces today are heavily shaped by the belief that scientific and technological innovation can solve the climate crisis without having to address the underlying causes (unmitigated extraction, consumption, and destruction). This perspective feeds into “green capitalism”, which sustains endless growth, waste creation, and inequalities.⁶⁷ Wealthy countries and corporations are heavily investing in these “innovative” and “clean” technologies that are still unproven, such as carbon capture and storage⁶⁸ and geoengineering.⁶⁹

   In reality, these false climate solutions perpetuate the cycle of extracting finite raw materials and exploiting marginalised peoples under the guise of achieving sustainability for the Global North. The bias towards technological fixes in climate change mitigation ultimately “fosters false optimism, legitimizes support for speculative technologies, narrows the range of viable policy options, and postpones the structural transformations”⁷⁰ needed. Techno-optimism perpetuates capital extraction while undervaluing the imperative for structural change.⁷¹ This is greenwashing and green colonialism.⁷²

   Palestine exemplifies how techno-fixes deflect responsibility from slashing fossil fuel use while seeking new frontiers for profit and domination. Many of the corporations behind illegal settlement infrastructure, extractive technologies, and military equipment are now posing as climate actors. One example is Netafim, a so-called sustainable drip irrigation company that depletes Palestinian-owned water sources while working with military firms.⁷³ The Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF) funds various so-called “climate solutions” that centre militarism in their design, development, and testing,⁷⁴ embedding surveillance, control, and militarisation into green narratives. Through every escalation of violence against Palestinians, the Israeli government and military test their technologies, such as artificial intelligence (AI) monitoring technologies,⁷⁵ that are then exported to other countries with the stamp of “battle-tested”.⁷⁶

   Training and developing AI exacerbates ecological crises as it requires tremendous amounts of energy and water.⁷⁷ Global corporations like Google, Microsoft, Amazon, Palantir, and Starlink are funnelling billions into fossil-fuel intensive services like cloud computing and logistics. Beyond this substantial ecological footprint, AI’s vast data collection becomes a weapon of surveillance and control, empowering the occupation with an abundance of information about those they are oppressing.⁷⁸ These cloud services are directly used in the genocide in Gaza through collecting biometric data on Palestinians, automated decision-making in the battlefield, and data processing to generate lists of targets.⁷⁹ Through the logic of surveillance humanitarianism, technologies framed as benevolent are weaponised to monitor, discipline, and restrict marginalised populations, turning basic necessities such as water, food, and shelter into
leverage points for further oppression.⁸⁰

   Geoengineering–the manipulation of Earth systems at an enormous scale to attempt to mask some of the symptoms of climate change without tackling root causes–is another example.⁸¹ The Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) has a longstanding moratorium on geoengineering deployment due to its harmful impacts on biodiversity, which was reaffirmed only last year at COP16 on Biodiversity. Yet outdoor solar and marine geoengineering experiments,⁸² which tend to lead to technology development and political lock-in, are increasing. Despite being a signatory to the agreement, several Israeli startups are pushing solar geoengineering and carbon dioxide removals. Of particular concern are the activities of Stardust Inc.,⁸³ which is developing and patenting Stratospheric Aerosol Injection technologies. This is a clear step towards both commercialisation and militarisation of the atmosphere. Israel markets itself as a “green innovator”, yet is greenwashing its ecological destruction under the guise of scientific advancement.

   We must recognise that these so-called sustainable technologies are actively harming people and our planet, and explicitly reinforce apartheid structures. They deny Indigenous people access to basic utilities and devastate their environment while bringing in profits to the settler state.

   We must acknowledge the role of international non-governmental organisations (NGOs) in perpetuating colonial and imperial dynamics. Foreign NGOs run by non-Palestinians with alternate agendas can compound the erasure and silencing of Palestinians. The significant expansion of NGO presence across the Middle East is a direct reflection of capitalist imperialist interests of the West in the region.⁸⁴ Many of these organisations reinforce Israel’s historical narratives as a nation state, the events of the 1948 Nakba, and current apartheid policies. The “Gaza Humanitarian Foundation”, a US-funded start-up, has been extensively documented for killing thousands of Palestinian aid seekers in Gaza under the guise of food aid.^85,86 Furthermore, in May 2025, Israel changed its registration rules for international NGOs so as to effectively entrench Israeli control over and facilitate the de facto annexation of the Occupied Territories.⁸⁷

   We see this pattern of Palestinian erasure in reconstruction efforts. Political and economic elites, including Israeli-led and international NGOs backed by Western states, operate through project-based frameworks that prioritise foreign funding, foreign expertise, and bureaucratic outcomes.⁸⁸ These entities, with Israeli oversight, are allowed to capture and exploit reconstruction efforts, including through funds, land-grabs, and privatisation of services. We see this made explicit in the Israeli government’s “Gaza 2035” plan, or the “Riviera of the Middle East” and “Gaza Futures Taskforce” plans from US-based pro-Israeli think-tanks.⁸⁹ It effectively marginalises Indigenous leadership, creating “development” devoid of Palestinian voices that focuses on technocratic control rather than liberation.   

   These organisations have been given the money, resources, and influence to apply their foreign agendas and make decisions for the Palestinian people. This did not work in 1948 when Palestine was unilaterally cut up for “peace” purposes, nor will it work now. At the same time, many of these external organisations operate on Zionist ideologies–especially US and UK-led operations–that serve to justify the occupation’s existence.⁹⁰ These NGOs reinforce dependency and sideline Palestinian agency, turning Palestinians from subjects of their own liberation into objectives of Western charity.

   We must recognise the complicity of international institutions and actors that fail to hold Israel accountable to international human rights. Despite the International Court of Justice (ICJ) ruling that Israel’s occupation and expansion of settlements in the West Bank and Gaza are illegal,⁹¹ and that it is plausible Israel is currently committing genocide in Gaza,⁹² and the International Criminal Court (ICC) issuing arrest warrants for top Israeli officials, including Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu⁹³, the international community has failed to hold Israel to account. Israel continues to act with impunity.

   The failure of international law reveals a deep truth that we must acknowledge: the international legal system was never meant to protect colonised people from their colonisers. It was always meant to protect empires. The ICJ, ICC, UN, and similar institutions were never meant to hold the West or its allies truly accountable.⁹⁴ They emerged to discipline the Global South–to impose sanctions when convenient, while shielding Western actors from the same accountability. Israel operates as an extension of Western hegemony in the Middle East, so its violence against people and our planet is legitimised and actively funded by the states and institutions that claim to champion universal human and environmental rights. In fact, international law has been strategically used to advance Israel’s interests (occupation and legitimacy), from the Balfour Declaration in 1917 to present-day Gaza.⁹⁵

   We must recognise that this complicity extends into the climate sphere. Despite various international agreements, most states have failed to act diligently to address the climate crisis. In a landmark decision in July 2025, the ICJ ruled that states are legally obligated to act against the climate crisis and protect the environment from anthropocentric greenhouse gas emissions.⁹⁶ States must “act with due diligence and cooperation to fulfill this obligation” or otherwise “cease the wrongful conduct, offer guarantees of non-repetition, and make full reparation”.⁹⁷ Under this climate ruling, Israel must be compelled to cease all of its documented destructive activities and provide reparations for the damage done. Yet neither the ruling on genocide nor on climate change–two of the most destructive crimes against people and ecology–have compelled the international community to hold Israel to account. We must end this complicity and enact proper enforcement mechanisms, including substantial avenues for liability with non-compliance, on the interlinked grounds of human rights and the climate crisis.

   This failure of international institutions reflects their active complicity and enabling of genocide and ecological destruction. We must dismantle the colonial legal frameworks and institutional structures that entrench inequalities and allow impunity. We must continue to advocate that international legal institutions and norms orient towards true justice and recognise what is happening in Palestine. Institutions can, for example, employ legal concepts that recognise the Nakba as a distinct crime against humanity, as for the Holocaust and Apartheid South Africa, which would more articulately describe the brutal regime of domination in Palestine.⁹⁸ They can also recognise ecocide as an international crime.

   The violence inflicted by these systems is not just material, but discursive. The social and ecological crises today are shaped by the narratives we construct: how we talk about and frame issues, what we choose to emphasise or silence, and what solutions are deemed reasonable (such as techno-optimism). Colonial violence operates through narratives as much as weapons. Global climate spaces, especially in governance, systematically under-represent the struggles of Indigenous peoples against violence and ecological destruction.

   This is particularly true for Palestine. Zionist entities are working tirelessly to supplant Palestinian knowledge with Israeli narratives. For example, the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) has the express purpose of furthering the Israeli agenda. In 2024, they spent over US$ 100 million to influence the US presidential election.⁹⁹ We must recognise that this is not just a threat to Indigenous knowledge, but to the very foundations of democracy and freedom.

   Through narrative silencing, Palestinian knowledge systems, culture, local ecology, and sovereignty are being erased from critical spaces that would otherwise give visibility to the Palestinian struggle. From mainstream media to international policymaking spaces, Palestinian lived realities are minimised and dehumanised. Anti-Arab sentiments dominate reporting on Palestine and Israel. Palestinian activists, journalists, and environmental defenders face relentless violence. Targeted killings, arrests, and harassment aim to silence those who document and resist the occupation’s ecological destruction. At the time of publication on 20 September, 2025, over 270 journalists have been killed in Gaza for documenting the genocide.^100,101

   Moreover, Palestinian farmers preserving traditional seeds are erased from agricultural histories; Palestinian knowledge of water conservation, developed over centuries of careful stewardship, is dismissed, while Israeli water-intensive settlement agriculture is praised as “innovation”.

   The humanity of Palestinians is selectively acknowledged, if at all. Western media often portrays women and children as passive victims while erasing Palestinian men¹⁰² or depicting them as terrorists or violent.¹⁰³ This racialised framing is a deliberate strategy used by Israel and those who support Israel to maintain control and suppress resistance.

   The erasure of Palestinian voices and narratives feeds into a depoliticised climate justice movement. Without Palestinian voices at the centre, climate justice becomes yet another arena where colonial power dynamics are reproduced and legitimised rather than dismantled.

   Ultimately, Palestine’s invisibility in mainstream climate spaces starkly illustrates how climate justicecannot be achieved without addressing the occupation and the weaponisation of the commons. The erasure of liberation struggles such as Palestine has led to a nefariously depoliticised climate movement.Palestine challenges us to expand how we understand and advocate for climate justice beyond carbon emissions to include holistically defending and liberating people and nature. Palestine must be at the center of any climate justice worthy of the name.

Palestine is not an exception: the fight for land sovereignty and reclaiming the commons is a global one. Resistance exists across the world – from anti-extractivist movements in Africa to decolonial movements in Turtle Island and Indigenous land reclamation in Latin America.

   As the world burns and we recognise the systems of racialised fossil capitalism and violence that fuel it, we must act to transform our world for people and our planet. Empires extract, militarise, poison, and displacement, and death. We know the deep-rooted systems that enable this regime. We must resist them.

   We resist through speaking up, by organising and building collective power, and by rejecting as far as possible our complicity in fossil capitalism.
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   The extent of crises, and the power and wealth of those in charge of these exploitative systems, can feel insurmountable. But when marginalised people come together collectively and build power, we can resist.

The Palestinian Institute for Climate Strategy urges all who can to resist this system in all its forms.

   We oppose all forms of greenwashing and corporate complicity in the climate crisis, including the fossil-backed occupation of Palestine. Fossil fuel giants like Chevron, ExxonMobil, BP, and Shell continue to expand oil and gas exploration while branding themselves as clean energy pioneers.¹⁰⁴ These are not climate allies; they are the pillars of empire. We reject their claims to climate leadership, resist their propaganda, and expose their attempts to greenwash colonial domination.

   We reject a fossil economy that is inseparable from genocide. We resist through action. We call for the boycott, divestment, and sanctioning of corporations, banks, universities, and institutions complicit in environmental destruction and colonial violence¹⁰⁵–those that finance fossil projects, arm regimes of occupation, and uphold Israeli apartheid. We demand the public exposure of their complicity, protest and disruption of business as usual, and full divestment from their networks.

 We also resist with refusal. Refusing to work for fossil companies, arms manufacturers, and firms enabling war and ecocide is a necessary form of political clarity, one that names empire for what it is, and refuses to serve it. This is not about personal guilt, but about collective withdrawal from the systems that profit from violence. We stand with student encampments and mobilisations for justice in Palestine, and follow their courageous stand against universities complicit in the genocide. We support the students’ call for wholesale divestment from and sanctions of companies and institutions that are complicit in environmental destruction and genocide. Our labour, our research, and our skills must not serve destruction.

   The fossil economy is not neutral. It is a global architecture of domination. We reject its narratives, its profits, its actors. We resist its design: to extract, to rule, to erase.‍

   We reject double standards in moral policing in all its forms. Too often, the same voices that remain silent in the face of genocide condemn how the oppressed choose to resist. We do not accept ideologies that dictate the “right” way to fight for freedom. Armed resistance against colonisation is a right recognised under international law, including the Geneva Conventions.¹⁰⁶ Palestine is not an exception.

   Attempts to delegitimise resistance movements–whether through silencing protest, framing civil disobedience as extremism, or isolating movements that do not appeal to liberal sensitivities–serve only the occupier. Rampant double standards in policing resistance is a function of the privileged Global North. It comes easiest to those farthest from danger, and to those most invested in “order” over liberation. We are not beholden to the preservation of our own comfort, but to the liberation of all oppressed peoples.

 We call to build a broad-based, popular resistance. This includes civil disobedience, protest, direct action, refusal, community building, and mutual aid, inside Palestine and globally. We reject the false binary between “peaceful” and “violent” when the violence of colonisation is constant, structural, and ongoing. The question is not how Palestinians resist. The question is how long others will justify doing nothing.

   Our resistance is not just opposition. It is a declaration of life. It is the right to return, the end of occupation, the refusal to be erased, and justice for all peoples oppressed by imperialism and settler colonialism.   Resistance is also about reconfiguring power on the ground.¹⁰⁷ Mutual aid networks, community self-organisation, Indigenous leadership, and community-led reconstruction efforts are strategic refusals. They directly challenge dependency on empire and NGO rule. We support efforts that restore collective autonomy, shift material conditions, and refuse to wait for institutional permission to act.

   We do not believe that liberation resides in the ballot box, nor will we wait for those in power to validate our demands. We will not ask permission to be free. We will not wait until we are acceptable to those who benefit from the status quo.

   We support the international campaign for disarmament as a necessary step towards liberation. Governments must stop aiding and abetting Israel’s genocidal and expansionist regime in Palestine and in the wider region. Palestinian liberation cannot wait for international law or multilateralism to grow teeth. It requires the material disruption of systems that enable genocide through boycotts, embargoes, sanctions, and the construction of alternative political-economic structures that make continuing occupation impossible. Governments must hold Israel accountable for its continued violation of international law, including crimes against humanity. We call on all governments to impose immediate sanctions on Israel, including ceasing all arms trade and military aid.

   As support for the Palestinian movement grows, so too do attempts to erase and silence them. We call to resist this. On an individual level, this begins with educating ourselves about the Palestinian cause including Palestinian texts, speeches, and history. Collectively speaking up makes us all safer to do so. There is no denying that Palestinian advocates are censored and targeted. We call for resisting this state-imposed fear, with the knowledge that what we are fighting for is grounded in liberation and justice. We call for refusing to take part in events or spaces that depoliticise Palestine, platform pro-Israel perspectives, or represent a “both-sidesism” in this issue. We are fully opposed to the deplatforming and targeting of academics, journalists, and activists who speak up about Palestine.

   Attempts to silence Palestinians and pro-Palestinian voices demonstrate the urgency to create our own ecosystems and spaces. We must construct new educational and intentional learning spaces to resist liberalised versions of the current education system that refuse to discuss Palestine. This includes teach-ins and informal learning spaces.  

   On a university level, we resist universities actively undermining freedom of speech, including criminalising students and staff for speaking about Palestine. We recognise that these institutions are built in ways that can undermine and dispossess knowledge or treat it as a financial commodity. We call for academic boycotts of institutions and scholars for their complicity in the occupation and violation of Palestinian rights and dignity, and a concerted effort to conduct research within anti-colonial and ecological frameworks.

   The media has been a consistently complicit actor in perpetuating false Israeli narratives and attempting to downplay, cover up, or ignore documented war crimes against the Palestinian people.¹⁰⁸ We resist the corporatised media narratives that dehumanise Palestinian lives. We support independent media institutions that have reported truthfully on the Palestinian cause, including platforming local journalists in
Palestine.

   We resist all forms of erasure. We seek to revive and protect indigenous knowledge, including archival projects that aim to document and archive memory in Palestine, such as Archives Lab¹⁰⁹ and other Indigenous-led initiatives. We seek to create political educational networks within the diaspora to champion Palestinian voices and their experiences. Finally, we seek to platform Palestinian voices as resistance, as survival, as the locus of imagining alternative just futures, and not as victims.

   With this Manifesto, we do not speak from a post-genocide future. We speak during a genocide, ecocide, systemic starvation, and surveillance humanitarianism that is annihilating all life forms. This is not collateral damage–it is the systematic erasure of a people and their future. We must transform not only how Palestinian liberation is conceptualised, imagined, treated, and politicised, but also how the world understands and practices justice, liberation, and ecological survival.

   The world's obligation to Palestine is not charity, but reparations. Not development aid that deepens structural dependency, but the dismantling of the systems that have enabled this catastrophe. Building alternative futures that serve Palestinian liberation and broader struggles for global justice necessitates challenging the dominant paradigm of post-conflict “reconstruction,” which merely restores an unjust status quo. Instead, rebuilding must be understood as a process of decolonisation that tears down the architecture of occupation, while constructing new systems rooted in Indigenous sovereignty and knowledge, ecological restoration, and redistributive justice.
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   From the heart of Palestine to refugee camps and the diaspora, Palestinian rebuilding is intrinsically linked to global movements against settler colonialism, fossil-fuelled militarism, and ecological apartheid.

    The immediate imperative, above all, remains clear: stop the killing, end the genocide, and cease the siege on Gaza. The ICJ’s 2024 advisory opinion established Israel’s continued presence in Palestinian territory as a violation of international law. These systemic violations include forced displacement and discrimination based on race, religion, or ethnic origin.

    Yet, since the ruling, the decimation has only accelerated and intensified. The bombs continue falling, the death toll rises daily, systemic starvation endures,¹¹⁰ and the very court that declared these violations watches impotently as its decisions are ignored. Each passing day renders the ICJ opinion and international law itself defunct: a mere elaborate performance of justice without any mechanism for stopping the killing. Genocide proceeds unimpeded. International humanitarian law is proving itself to be equally powerless when those manufacturing, procuring, and releasing weapons of brutality simply refuse to comply.

  All states must fulfil their legal obligation to “not recognise as legal the situation arising from unlawful presence” and “not render aid or assistance in maintaining the situation.”¹¹¹ This means the immediate implementation of comprehensive sanctions: total arms embargoes, energy embargoes, severing of diplomatic relations, expulsion from international sporting and cultural events, and the prosecution of corporate executives complicit in the occupation.¹¹² Following the example of more than 120 British councils that adopted anti-apartheid initiatives by 1985,¹¹³ municipalities, universities, and unions worldwide must refuse contracts with companies complicit in occupation and climate destruction. Dockers in Italy, South Africa, France, Belgium and elsewhere have already refused to load weapons destined for Israel–this direct action must spread globally.¹¹⁴

   Collective action also entails boycotting products from aggressor states, divesting from military-industrial and fossil fuel companies, as well as seizing and reallocating the wealth of oligarchs and war criminals. The funds recovered should finance community resilience, resistance, and ecological restoration.

    Rebuilding is a legal obligation. Reparation programmes have historical precedents, thus demonstrating their possibility and necessity. From 1945 to 2018, Germany paid approximately $86.8 billion in restitution and compensation to Holocaust victims and their heirs, including state-to-state payments to Israel.¹¹⁵ Over several decades and to this day, negotiations between the German government and organisations like the Claims Conference¹¹⁶ have been ongoing, providing direct compensation to survivors, social services, and other targeted funding, as well as corporate accountability mechanisms. Following the Bosnian genocide in Srebrenica, Bosnia’s Dayton Accords created property restitution systems for those displaced by the war. The Commission for Real Property Claims of Displaced Persons and Refugees processed over 200,000 claims, with enforced implementation rather than voluntary compliance.¹¹⁷ The Nuremberg trials established foundational principles of individual accountability for state-sponsored crimes, and that state sovereignty does not and cannot shield war crimes and war criminals.

   Though precedents of financial reparations establish clear frameworks for calculating and extracting reparations from occupying powers, they can still be insufficient, or simply non-existent, as historical injustices cause deep, multi-generational harms that cannot be fully addressed by monetary compensation alone.

 For Palestine, reparations must encompass UN Resolution 60/148, specifically regarding restitution to restore victims to their original situation; compensation for economically assessable damage; rehabilitation through medical, psychological, legal, and social services; satisfaction, including public apologies and truth-seeking; and guarantees of non-repetition through institutional reforms. The legal foundation rests on several core pillars: fundamental norms of international law, such as the right to self-determination, universal obligations to uphold basic rights, treaty-based duties under the Geneva Conventions, and customary international law that requires reparations for serious violations. Reparations, however, cannot and should not be reduced to monetary compensation alone. They must also address the compounded harms of land theft, disposession, and violence, as well as the overlooked ecological and climate impacts of decades of military occupation -- including emissions from ongoing conflict and destruction of Palestinian ecosystems. What economic quantification can exact 75 years of stolen land, destroyed villages, imprisoned generations, erasure, and murdered futures?

   These reparations must also encompass environmental destruction. In addition to the well-established forms of reparations that primarily focus on social restitution, environmental damages must also be compensated for. There is an urgent need to repair and restore the damage that has been inflicted to Palestine’s environment as a result of Israel’s settler colonialism and ongoing genocide. So far, a conservative analysis by PICS and Tipping Point North South estimates that Israel and its allies owe Palestine US$148 billion since the Nakba, based on carbon emission-based costs of the traceable military-related activities by Israel and its allies alone.¹¹⁸ The ICJ’s ruling regarding state obligations to address climate change and protect the environment from anthropogenic greenhouse gas emissions is a critical framework for this.¹¹⁹ Israel’s relentless extraction of natural resources and role in the global fossil economy highlight its complicity in not just genocide, but in driving the climate crisis. As such, Israel is legally obligated to cease the staggering emissions from its bombing campaigns and systemic destruction of environmental conditions and provide restitution to Palestinians for the destruction caused.

   Ultimately, what is the meaning of “binding obligations” when “binding” is nothing but a word? While the ICJ speaks on human and environmental rights, Israel continues to kill and destroy, and the world watches. We must re-orient the purpose of international courts towards protecting the oppressed, and ensure that international human rights and legal obligations are actually enforced for the Global South. The path forward requires coordinated legal and political actions, sustained commitments, victim-centred design in reconstruction processes, and, critically, enforcement beyond voluntary compliance. Without these, empty statements of commitment remain just that–empty, and a mere performance.

   The struggle for Palestine is a struggle for memory against erasure, for imagination against annihilation. Every demolished home was a library, every martyr carried stories. The Zionist occupation seeks not just land and resources, but also the very possibilities of Palestinian futures. Yet, Palestinian radical futures stem from the very refusal of erasure, and they persist despite daily destructions. Critically, Palestinian artists and writers have reminded us that even in ruins, alternative futures can be (re)imagined. In fact, it is imperative that they are.

   Learning from their stories requires building structures that sustain cultural resistance: establishing educational institutions and curricula that teach Palestinian history and ecology; creating decentralised digital archives protected from attempts of erasure that teach us not just about history but also futurity; funding artist collectives that imagine post-liberation Palestine; and connecting these efforts to Indigenous movements globally who understand that storytelling is survival. The Zapatistas built their own education system for 50,000 students. The Black Panthers created liberation schools teaching revolutionary consciousness alongside reading. Teaching about/on Palestine must similarly conjure real leadership, and fuse practical skills with political imagination.

   The people must be protected. Their dignity, their stories, and their futures must not be history, but an integral part of the struggle against colonialism and fossil capital.

Artists and writers must produce works that imagine decolonised futures, drawing on stories on the ground, to continue the legacy of our people on the ground. But this cultural work requires material support: international funds for Palestinian publishers, protected spaces for creation, global distribution networks for Palestinian narratives. We must keep their echoes in the process of rebuilding a future. As Georges Abdallah said:

“The resistance is not weak; it stands strong, drawing its strength from its martyrs who created the struggle with their blood.”

   We honour martyrs not through monuments but through actualising their dreams. Every school built, every story told, every future imagined is resurrection.

   Building power through education and hosting transnational reading groups and workshops must come first, to recognise, to resist, and to rebuild with the principles and values outlined in this Manifesto. Cultural exchanges and global teach-ins are the way forward for mutual aid and global solidarity against these struggles. Cultural resistance is not metaphorical. It is the material practice of keeping people alive in the face of those who would erase them from history and futurity alike.

   To rebuild is to take back control of what sustains us. We rebuild by reclaiming the foundations of life: of energy, water, and land. Resource sovereignty is not a technical question: who controls the means of survival determines who lives and who dies.

   To build positive power collectively against a legal, economic, political, social system that is meant to expel and dehumanise Palestinians in the West Bank and Israeli-occupied territories is difficult, but on different fronts, we propose a blueprint to enable that.

   Energy systems embed colonial power relations: they reproduce hegemonic control through geopolitical dominance over resources, inequalities in access and pricing, and land appropriation for project expansion. Israel’s systematic attacks on Gaza’s only power plant–bombed in 2006, 2008, 2014, and obliterated in 2023–demonstrate energy infrastructure as a weapon of collective punishment.

    Algeria's National Liberation Front pursued post-independence energy sovereignty through resource nationalisation, infrastructural development, and state-led planning. It used hydrocarbon reserves as its backbone for reconstruction, while pursuing regional integration with decolonised nations rather than dependencies with colonisers.¹²⁰

Building alternatives lies in community-controlled systems that serve local needs and broader grid stability. Solar, wind, and grid infrastructure are sites of autonomy. Palestinian energy sovereignty requires rejecting donor-dependent reconstruction that maintains Israeli or foreign control. It necessitates people-owned, community-governed energy infrastructure with local maintenance programmes and decision-making embedded in people's assemblies, not in that of the political establishment or foreign technocrats. Every solar panel must be owned by Palestinian communities, not leased from European NGOs. Every wind turbine must be maintained by Palestinian technicians, not foreign contractors. Energy infrastructure is either a tool of liberation or continued colonisation–there is no neutral technology.

   Water is a lifeline, and water apartheid in Palestine operates through systemic resource control and theft. Israel controls 87% of Palestinian water resources through Military Order 159. Before the post-October 7 destruction, 97% of Gaza's water was already undrinkable.¹²¹

    Israel's national water company Mekorot's pipeline system transfers waters to settlements while deliberately bypassing Palestinian communities, who pay five times more for trucked water than network water, often consuming 50% of family income. This is "veritable water apartheid".¹²² The ongoing genocide in Gaza has completed destroyed water treatment systems and sewage infrastructure, rendering its water systems entirely defunct.

   Technocratic solutions imposed by foreign donors perpetuate dependency and exclude Palestinian autonomy. Desalination has been heavily promoted as a solution. While we cannot discredit its necessity and immediacy in providing drinking water under the context of a siege, existing desalination infrastructure enforces Palestinian dependence on Israeli industries. Resource control and community rights cannot be depoliticised through infrastructure-based solutions. The Cochabambam water wars showed that privatised water can be reclaimed.¹²³ Rebuilding water sovereignty entails constructing parallel systems: reclaiming control over water resources and governance, recognising inherent rights, and fostering co-management with governments. Ensuring water sovereignty also serves as a pathway to food and energy security.

   Food sovereignty in Palestine represents the frontline where climate and ecological justice, decolonisation, and survival converge. Palestinian agricultural colonisation operates through structural restrictions in accessing land, agricultural practices, and food production. Food insecurity does not stem from a lack of resources, but a deliberate political choice.

    Land restitution approaches in post-conflict contexts are varied, including restoration of dispossessed land, settlement of claims, customary and statutory tenure reforms, and other practices that shift towards community re-ownership of Indigenous lands. While these processes are never linear, what remains clear is that Palestinian lands must be returned to Palestinian hands.

   Seed-saving is a form of “agroresistence” and maintaining seed sovereignty is one alternative to reinstating Palestinian autonomy. The Union of Agricultural Work Committees (UAWC) maintains seed banks with scores of traditional varieties adapted to arid conditions and Palestinian heritage. Community seed banks in Beit Sahour serve 200-300 families annually.¹²⁴ Traditional Palestinian agroecological practices provide crucial expertise for food sovereignty reconstruction.

   The Israeli raid on the Seed Multiplication Unit of the Palestinian Seed bank in Hebron, operated by UAWC, represents a destructive act of erasure. It demolished storage facilities hosting seeds that represented Palestinian identity, resistance, and the promise of food sovereignty. The Bank was established to preserve strains of local crops, especially ones resistant to disease and harsher weather conditions. It guaranteed the ability for Palestinians to cultivate their own food. Its destruction is an act to sever the generational ties between Palestinian farmers and their land, an act to suppress self-determination.¹²⁵

   Land and agricultural sovereignty are profoundly interconnected. In the context of Palestine, land sovereignty necessitates the rights of individuals, communities, or peoples to live on, work in, and govern their land, resources, cultural practices, particularly in relation to agricultural and food production. Agricultural sovereignty, linked to food sovereignty, emphasises the right of peoples to define their own food and agricultural systems, and their right to determine and produce their own food.

   Such sovereignty requires a fundamental rejection of export-oriented agriculture in favour of local food systems, community-supported models, and collectivisation amongst international peasant movements. It requires breaking free from import-dependence and global corporations. Global examples demonstrate that the Land Back movement has developed mechanisms to work towards land sovereignty: Truth and Reconciliation Commissions, mapping stolen properties, voiding sales made under duress, redistributing settlement lands to original owners, and co-management of returned territories.¹²⁶

   We must return land to Palestinian hands. We must restore traditional, collective, and agroecological farming practices. We must rebuild seed banks, reclaim forests, and revive coastal fishers.

   In order to rebuild, we must root our action in Palestinian and Global South epistemologies, distribute power through regional nodes, and build a pathway from narrative to law. With the collapsing integrity of international law and multilateral systems, rebuilding must include a reorientation of power: liberation comes from the people, from the ground-up.

    Historically, unions and syndicates were at the forefront of social movements. Workers have power in their unity, with strategies that are unique to their contexts, and capable of disrupting fossil capital. ILWU Longshoremen’s refusal to unload Israeli ships in Oakland demonstrates labour’s capacity to strangle the occupation.¹²⁷ When BDS campaigns against Veolia resulted in losses of over $20 billion in contracts, they proved that economic interventions can work.¹²⁸

   These projects must model the future; their victories must be systematised. In Colombia, trade unionists have faced violence, including killings, that is often linked to Coca-Cola’s bottling operations in collaboration with paramilitary groups.¹²⁹ Our call is to stand up for workers globally, and to stand up for workers in Palestine. Echoing the demands of the Palestinian General Federation of Trade Unions, PGFTU, workers worldwide must unite against oppression and the killing of the innocent, and it starts by recognising and resisting corporate complicity in your locales.¹³⁰ We call for the building of a global infrastructure of solidarity that matches capital’s reach.

   People must bridge the power, and pursue establishing hubs and sister cities with Ramallah and Gaza and Indigenous communities on Turtle Island, Latin America, Europe, West Asia, North Africa, and South Asia that lead local organising. Pilot projects in cities such as Barcelona and Ramallah or Bethlehem must prototype projects in areas where settler threat is on the rise. Rebuilding for a just future has to be rooted in community, in security, and in clean and just energy infrastructure. Every connection weakens isolation, every project proves that another world is possible.

   Energy humanities remind us that the concept of energy allowed 19th‑century economists to equate life with commodities, legitimising extraction. Our current crisis is tied to massively scaled energy use and industrialisation. Technocratic “fixes” like geoengineering and negative emissions, promoted by elites, are attempts to prolong fossil capital rather than transform it. As Andreas Malm and Wim Carton argue, such technologies are rolled out after mitigation fails, and often serve to maintain existing power structures.¹³¹

    To rebuild is to reject geoengineering, solar dimming and carbon capture and removals, and acknowledge that they are false solutions that perpetuate colonial and corporate control alongside ecological destruction.

   And as Palestinian films and literature show us, Palestinians are trapped in a limbo between past trauma and future projection. Larissa Sansour in her films¹³² reveals how technocapitalism, advanced technologies, and militarisation deepen surveillance and ecological ruin. We must all support campaigns against military AI and surveillance and build community‑controlled digital tools.

   The right of return is not negotiable, not a bargaining chip, not a final status issue. It is the precondition for justice, for restoration, for peace. UN Resolution 194¹³³ is clear, and international precedents from Kosovo to Rwanda prove that return is not theoretical, but achievable. Only for Palestinians is the right to return deemed conditional or impossible; this reveals racist exceptions that lie at the heart of international complacency. Every argument against unconditional Palestinian return is a preservation of this apartheid regime.

    Return is not abstract. It means (1) the creation of refugee-led return councils that provide binding authority of repatriation, not Oslo-era technocracies or Western-led attempts at dismantling Palestinian self-determination; (2) property restitution in courts that void transfers under occupation; (3) economic reparations calculated from date of displacement with compound interest; (4) international protection forces that ensure the safe return of Palestinians against settler violence; and (5) ecological restoration of destroyed land and homes as part of the return process.

   Return is not simply physical, but also ecological: restoring the watersheds that settlers destroyed, rehabilitating forests settlers burned for “security”, removing the concrete apartheid walls fragmenting Palestinian land. Ecosystems and our culture are intertwined–return is part of the restoration process of these severed relationships and the erasure campaign of fast and slow genocidal violence.

   The movement to add ecocide as the fifth international crime to be prosecuted by the ICC (alongside genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity, and aggression) was instigated by Vanuatu, Fiji, and Samoa in September 2024. The movement aims to adopt the definition of ecocide as “unlawful or wanton acts committed with knowledge that there is a substantial likelihood of severe and either widespread or long-term damage to the environment being caused by those acts.”¹³⁴ This legal tool must be wielded immediately. Every bombed water treatment plant, every bulldozed landscape, every poisoned field must be documented for prosecution.

    Precedents also exist: Agent Orange in Vietnam was retrospectively recognised as chemical warfare. The burning of Kuwait’s oil fields led to reparations. The Rome Statute must be amended now to include ecocide, with retroactive application to Palestine. Environmental forensics can show what satellites show: the calculated destruction of Palestinian life-support systems is an ecocide.

   Palestinian rebuilding cannot and must not be separated from global movements against the interconnected systems enabling Gaza’s genocide. There is no climate or ecological justice in just one region or country. From the Amazon to the Arctic, from the Niger Delta to the Narmada Valley, the very extractive machine that funds Palestinian genocide and ecocide is destroying Indigenous worlds everywhere. Climate and ecological justice must happen globally, or it happens nowhere.

   The connections are material: Elbit Systems manufactures both Gaza’s surveillance walls and the Mexico-US border technologies. Caterpillar bulldozers destroy Palestinian homes and Standing Rock water protectors’ camps. The architects of oppression operate transnationally.¹³⁵

   From university encampments to pipeline blockades, Palestinian solidarity is reverberating through liberation movements worldwide. Student encampments globally are demanding divestment from both Israeli apartheid and the fossil fuel companies that power it. They recognise how university endowments fund both climate destruction and Palestinian decimation, while there are no universities left in Gaza. These encampments capture the expanded analysis needed to uproot the interlocking systems of oppressions today: that Lockheed Martin manufactures F-35 fighter jets and infrastructure for fossil fuel extraction, that BlackRock profits from both Palestinian dispossession and the climate and ecological catastrophe.

   Under this global struggle against settler colonialism and resource extraction, the Wet'suwet’en Nation's resistance to the Coastal GasLink pipeline echoes the Palestinian resistance against settler expansion.¹³⁶ They defend their Yintah (lands) that they never ceded, face militarised police brutality, and bear the profound understanding that fossil fuel infrastructures and settler occupation are twin projects of dispossession. Indigenous communities from Peru to the Philippines are resisting mining operations that poison rivers and fragment territories and cultural heritage in the name of "renewable technologies.”¹³⁷ The rebranding of colonial violence as "climate solutions” stands in parallel to the development of desalination plants built on ethnically cleansed lands that are marketed as "sustainable development.”

   Liberation movements worldwide demonstrate that another world is possible and materialising. Rebuilding Palestine requires rebuilding internationalism from below.

   These connections run deeper through the prison-industrial complex that transforms carceral violence into climate infrastructure. California paid $1 per hour for incarcerated labour to fight wildfires that were intensified by violations of fire ecology to serve real estate profits,¹³⁸ while US manufacturers of surveillance technologies and weapons are used by the Israeli military and police against Palestinian civilians, and by police, prison, immigration, and military agencies in the US.¹³⁹

   Successful international solidarity builds on anti-apartheid precedents. Over 100 local authorities in the UK banned South African goods during the 1960s-1980s, while universities globally participated in divestment campaigns that contributed to the collapse of the apartheid state. Contemporary BDS campaigns utilise identical strategies at individual, institutional, and global political diplomacy levels to sanction and embargo energy resources that sustain the Israeli regime.¹⁴⁰

   The process of rebuilding Palestine is therefore inseparable from dismantling the global architecture of extraction and incarceration. The same financial flows enabling Palestinian dispossession fund pipeline expansion and prison constructions worldwide. Rebuilding Palestine becomes possible when communities reclaim sovereignty over their lands, waters, and futures, establishing a horizon of liberation that threatens every structure of domination, from the Rio Grande to the Jordan River.

   Since the ICJ declared that genocide accusations against Israel are plausible, we have seen the plausibility transform into certainty. The careful language nested within international law, including “plausible,” “provisional measures,” or “advisory opinions”, can quickly become cover for inaction. When we diagnose atrocities without stopping them, we fail to prevent future apartheid and genocide.

   Effective prevention requires transforming systems that enable genocide, rather than relying on reactive responses. Imagining justice begins by confronting injustices. For Palestine liberation, we must pursue comprehensive institutional transformation at the system level: economic transformations that dismantle apartheid infrastructure and create reparative economic relationships, political transformation establishing Palestinian sovereignty and self-determination, legal accountability through international proceedings against responsible personnel, and environmental reconstruction addressing ecocide and creating ecological justice.¹⁴¹

   For the climate community, “loss and damage” does not simply stem from impacts of extreme weather events as a consequence of anthropogenic climate change. Its materialisation in Gaza requires acknowledging the broader frame of how climate violence–resulting in human loss and environmental destruction–is a product of colonial violence.¹⁴² It also requires, as this Manifesto calls upon, a recognition of climate change as not simply a biogeophysical transformation, but rather the consequence of fossil capitalism and its enabling of militarised, technological, environmental, and extractive violence.¹⁴³

   Palestine demands global solidarity, rejecting genocide, ecocide, and the systems enabling them. This requires immediate sanctions, arms and energy embargoes, transformed international legal frameworks that prioritise the rights and justice of individuals over geopolitical interests, and a comprehensive reparations programme built by the people that addresses historical injustices and environmental destruction. And critically, a renewed, steadfast, and profound commitment to Palestinian liberation, inseparable from and intersecting with global struggles for decolonisation, climate and ecological justice, and human dignity.