The Swedish discourse on the war in Iran has been dominated by the question of its legality. In recent weeks, international law scholars, academics, politicians, and columnists have explained why the American and Israeli attack is “illegal under international law.” There is much to say about this reasoning, but a reasonable question is what the point really is. In the real world, the legality of war matters very little, because international law, in general, has hardly had any real significance over the past decades.
The main reason is simply that it doesn't work. International law has been used by some of the world’s worst despots, from Gaddafi to Assad, to delay international action against their crimes, and when it was finally used for intervention—in many cases, it made the situation even worse and led to more violence and failed states.
International law has also given legitimacy to regimes such as Qatar and Somalia, which have gained seats on the UN Human Rights Council despite their total lack of such rights. Terrorist organizations have used it in their propaganda to avoid the consequences of their actions, and China’s and Russia’s veto rights in the UN Security Council ensure that aggressive dictators go unpunished.
“If the U.S. illegally invades other countries, Russia will do the same” is a common argument against the American offensive. But the truth is rather the opposite: Russia did not wait for the Americans to attack Georgia or Ukraine, and—like Turkey in Syria, Azerbaijan in Armenia, and Eritrea in Ethiopia—has ignored international law for decades. No country is waiting for Israel or the U.S. to legitimize their actions according to the “law of the jungle”.
For a country that has not been at war since 1814, the question of the legality of military interventions may seem like the most important one. Theoretically, even a superpower like the U.S. should be concerned with issues of limiting its global power. But for a country like Israel, which is constantly threatened by real enemies who want to annihilate it and kill its population, this question appears fairly academic.
There is, however, another question that from an Israeli perspective is extremely important. It is simple but crucial, and it should concern other countries as well—it is not whether the war is legal, but whether it is effective. Or more broadly: can military power by itself solve Israel’s problems with Iran and other enemies?
“When all you have is a hammer,” as the well-known saying goes, “every problem looks like a nail.” Israel undoubtedly has a powerful hammer. Could it be that the country has become accustomed to solving all its problems with it? Previously, Israel used many forms of power to strengthen its security and international standing. Diplomats engaged in creating complex alliances, its soft power included outstanding achievements in culture, art, agriculture, science, and technology, and governments were willing to participate in peace negotiations and consider compromises.
The Hamas massacre on October 7 and Iran’s persistence in combining nuclear ambitions with threats to wipe Israel off the map changed all of this. The Israeli foreign service has been marginalized; the country’s artists and scientists are boycotted around the world, and its enemies are blown to pieces rather than invited to ceremonies on the White House lawn. Considering that many of Israel’s enemies are ruthless killers, this is hardly surprising. Anyone who sees value in human life should not shed tears for people like Hassan Nasrallah, Yahya Sinwar, and Ali Khamenei. But do military operations improve reality if they are not accompanied by other measures such as diplomacy, economic development, and new creative political alliances? This is not only an Israeli question. A new world order is taking shape before our eyes, and if we are not heading toward total anarchy, the question of limiting military power and understanding what it can and cannot achieve is crucial.
One indication is the situation in Gaza. After more than two years of extensive military force and enormous destruction, the reality is that Hamas not only still exists, it is armed and controls many state functions. In Lebanon, Israel may have achieved significant military successes against Hezbollah, but the Israeli are still spending far too much time in bomb shelters, and despite everything, Hezbollah is still alive and kicking. Both militarily and politically.
Israelis are once again deprived of basic necessities—schools are closed, workplaces shut down, flights canceled, thousands have lost relatives, been forced from their homes, and suffered injuries and trauma. Not to mention that Israel is deeply divided on issues concerning its democracy, which can only be resolved when the shooting stops. Meanwhile, Israel has also, without justification, become the punching bag of the international community. All the world’s power seems to be of little use in solving this.
And then there is Iran. Now that the war has begun, it should, for the sake of both Iranians and Israelis, end with a regime change—and no regime change is possible without the use of force. The Iranian people themselves, who ultimately must liberate themselves, have asked for foreign intervention, and giving it to them is the right thing to do. But what then?
“From the moment we decided that only here, in the land of Israel, could the Jewish state arise, we accepted that more than a hundred million people from the Arab world, from the Arab nations, and from the Palestinians would be our neighbors,” said Israel’s former prime minister Yitzhak Rabin a few years before he was assassinated in 1995. “There are now only two possibilities: either a serious and determined effort is made to achieve peace—peace and security—or the sword will always rule.” In the 1990s, Rabin chose the first option, but since then, leaders across the region, including Israeli leaders, have developed a dependence on using force. Perhaps even an adiction.
When the war in Iran is over, Israel will face a choice. Previously, the country combined pragmatic diplomacy, careful alliance-building, and visionary openings toward the Arab world. In a region like the Middle East, this is risky. Israel will always need to keep a sword ready, but with security guarantees and economic support instead of anachronistic laws and self-righteous moralism from other countries, peace may once again become an option.
Norwegian police said they are searching for suspects and added that they were reinforcing security measures to protect both the Iranian diaspora and the Norway's Jewish communities
The U.S. embassy in Oslo was hit by a loud explosion overnight into Sunday, causing minor damage but not injuries, Norwegian police said, as the justice minister said a thorough investigation had been launched. The blast at the embassy compound in western Oslo occurred at around 1 A.M. local time, sending thick smoke into the street by the entrance of the consular section, eyewitnesses said.
The explosion was caused by some sort of incendiary device, Oslo police representative Frode Larsen said during a news conference Sunday. Investigators believe the embassy was the target and are searching for one or more potential perpetrators and their motive. Justice Minister Astri Aas-Hansen added they had deployed "considerable resources" to the investigation.
"One of our hypothesis is that this is terrorism, but we are also exploring other options," Larsen later told public broadcaster NRK. Police added that they were reinforcing security measures to protect both the Iranian diaspora and the country's Jewish communities. "This is an unacceptable incident that is being treated with the utmost seriousness," said Astri Aas-Hansen, Norway's justice and public security minister. "The police have stated that they are investigating the case with significant resources, and that nothing indicates the situation poses any danger to the public," she said.
PST, the Norwegian police security service, called in additional personnel following the incident but has not changed the country's terror threat level, according to communication adviser Martin Bernsen. The blast occurred at the entry to the consular section, Oslo police said, and witnesses said the entrance had been damaged.
"There was a very thick layer of smoke on the street," said Sebastian Toerstad, 18, a high school student who drove past the embassy at the time of the explosion. "There was some damage to the entrance," he added. Police said no further explosive devices had been found in the area. "Investigations have been carried out at the scene with the aid of dogs, drones and a helicopter, searching for one or more potential perpetrators," the Oslo police department said in a statement.
The U.S. Embassy in Oslo referred media queries to the U.S. State Department, which did not immediately return a request for comment. Nor did Oslo police. Other details were not available.
Leif Knutsen, a Norwegian Jewish activist and chairman of the newly founded Jewish Community of Norway umbrella organization, said security around Jewish institutions across Norway has been elevated since October 7. Knutsen noted that armed police with assault rifles have been stationed around the synagogues in Oslo and Trondheim and near the Israeli embassy.
The local Jewish community generally trusts the Norwegian Police Security Service, known as PST, and cooperation between security services and Jewish institutions is strong, according to Knutsen. He said, however, that many people feel more vulnerable on their way to and from synagogues, when they "become visible" outside the protected perimeter.
He expressed that the broader concern is what the situation represents. "What's wrong with a society when its most heavily guarded and fortified installations are not government offices or military bases, but two synagogues and the embassy of a country that Norway is supposed to have a friendly relationship with?" Knutsen said, adding that the situation was "unsustainable" in the long term.
The release of court documents in the U.S on Jeffrey Epstein in February has sent political shockwaves far beyond Washington. From American power brokers to British royalty and European decision-makers, the files reference powerful figures across the globe. In Norway, the fallout has struck a blow to the country's self-image, as well as its image abroad.
Traditionally, Norway, which has one of the world's most comprehensive welfare state systems, has had a high level of trust in its public officials, and until recently the country was best-known internationally for the Nobel Peace Prize and for humanitarian and peacemaking efforts.
Now high-profile Norwegian public figures are facing criminal investigations as a result of their links to late convicted sex offender Epstein, and the country is reckoning with the fallout. The most high-profile Norwegian figures to be implicated in the files are Crown Princess Mette-Marit, who exchanged hundreds of emails with Epstein between 2011 and 2014 and stayed at his Palm Beach residence in 2013, and former Prime Minister and former Chair of the Nobel Committee Thorbjørn Jagland who has been charged with gross corruption as a result of his ties with Epstein.
But the files have also revealed that two members of Norway's diplomatic elite – married couple Terje Rød-Larsen and Mona Juul – had connections with Epstein. The couple were among a small group of diplomats who facilitated the back-channel negotiations between Israeli and the Palestine Liberation Organization representatives in the early 1990s which led to the Oslo Accords in 1993.
Norwegian authorities have now opened an investigations into Juul – who resigned as Norway's ambassador to Iraq and Jordan earlier this year – on suspicion of gross corruption and Rød-Larsen on suspicion of complicity in gross corruption in relation to gifts and favors the two received from Epstein. According to the released files, they maintained extensive personal and financial ties with Epstein over several years. They visited his private island, their two children were bequeathed $10 million by Epstein in his will, and Rød Larsen was appointed executer of the will (which was later revoked).
According to lawyers for Juul, who has also served as Norway's ambassador to Israel, the U.K. and the UN, she "does not recognize" the allegations against her. For his part, Rød-Larsen has acknowledged the relationship with Epstein but denies wrongdoing. He has not held a public role for over two decades and resigned from his position as president of New York-based think tank the International Peace Institute in 2020 following revelations about his ties to Epstein.
Norway's efforts to facilitate secret Israeli-Palestinian negotiations in the early 1990s leading to the Oslo Accords helped forge its identity as a peace-brokering power, and the current association of key figures from that legacy with Epstein has prompted a discourse in the country about political oversight and elite networks.
"Norwegian diplomats are loyal people, but if they were honest, they would say that the behavior of these two individuals has been an open secret for many years," Professor Torkel Brekke, an Oslo historian who works for the Norwegian think tank Civita and also studies Norway's relations with its Jewish minority and with Israel, tells Haaretz.
Brekke added that "People probably didn't know about the most serious part of the allegations, the ones concerning trafficking [the files show that in his capacity as president of IPI Rod-Larsen wrote recommendations letters for U.S. visas for young Eastern European women at Epstein's request], but the rest of it was known to many. They just didn't want to talk about it".
According to Brekke, Rød-Larsen, in particular, is well-known for his tendency to promote himself and there were many rumors within diplomatic circles of inappropriate conduct and inappropriate associations.
Beyond the personal allegations, what has this done to the political discourse in Norway?
"In Norway the concept of trust has been elevated and is almost sacred," Brekke said. "You always hear Norwegians speaking about trust being more important than oil and that it's what makes us special as a society. So, the question many people are asking now is if this is going to destroy trust in our society. I often personally think that the concept of trust is sometimes sprinkled as a kind of gold dust and that too much trust in government is probably not a good thing. We may need trust that's a bit more critical."
According to Brekke, political implications span the spectrum. While Jagland was a Labour party prime minister and Juul and Rød-Larsen served under Labor governments, former Conservative foreign minister Børge Brende also stepped down as president and CEO of the World Economic Forum following scrutiny of past interactions with Epstein.
"The Royal Family too is a great concern," Brekke adds. "Crown Princess Mette-Marit has been in close contact with Epstein. The communication between her and Epstein is hard to explain and combined with the court case against her son. [Marius Borg Høiby, the crown princess's son from a former relationship, is currently facing multiple criminal charges, including rape, which he denies.] It's concerning to many Norwegians. Even more concerning than party politics."
When it comes to the Israeli angle, does the fact that officials involved in the Oslo Accords are now implicated affect Norway's peacemaking legacy and relations with Israel?
"First, I think that although there were several hard-working, very decent diplomats who created the Israeli-Palestinian back channel, there were, at the same time, others who tried to make it into something a lot more important than it really was. Rød-Larsen tried to make himself seem much more important than he really was. When it comes to relations with Israel, I don't think there will be much of an impact, apart from maybe giving Israelis another reason to be critical of Norway [Many Israelis' resent Norway's criticism of Israeli conduct in the Gaza war which has also led to tension between the two countries' governments].
I'd expect some Israelis will feel some kind of schadenfreude after the recent souring of relations," he said. Two weeks after October 7, 2023, Norway condemned Israel's war in Gaza, and drew anger from Israel after deciding not to recognize Hamas as a terror organization. Oslo also continued funding UNRWA – and campaigned to defend it abroad – despite allegations some staff took part in the October 7 attacks.
"However, relations with Israel will probably only improve if there is a new government that will be able to set things back on track after the way things were handled from the Norwegian side after October 7."
The argument that Norway's role in the Oslo process was more facilitative than decisive is not a new one. Many analysts contend that the end of the Cold War and political shifts within Israel and the PLO were the primary drivers, and Norway's role was mainly to provide a discreet venue.
But while the Norwegians' influence over the content of the Oslo accords was limited, Rød-Larsen was influential in his role as the facilitator of the secret channel, and in that sense he and his wife had an important role in the Oslo story.
Two young Israeli soldiers recently visited Stockholm together with an activist from Breaking the Silence, an Israeli organization that collects and publishes testimonies from Israeli veterans and, in many cases, acts as a whistleblower by exposing alleged human rights violations and war crimes. The Swedish visit was organized in collaboration with the Christian aid organization Diakonia, which arranged interviews with the Swedish press (SVT, Dagens ETC, Dagens Arena, and Jewish Chronicle). In the interviews, the soldiers used pseudonyms, and their faces were not shown.
In some of the publications, the interviews were presented as evidence supporting the gravest accusations against Israel. For example, Dagens ETC wrote: “The serious allegations have been dismissed as Hamas propaganda by commentators like Alice Teodorescu Måwe. But everything is now confirmed by Israeli soldiers.”
In the interviews, the soldiers reportedly said things like, “we were ordered to shoot all Palestinians we considered ‘military-age men’” and “we used Palestinian men as human shields.” Other claims included that many buildings were destroyed in Gaza and that, during the first weeks of the war, there was a lack of rules of engagement. Later, the soldiers said, rules were introduced, but they were weak and not always applied. As a result, unarmed men were shot.
They also reported that journalists and healthcare workers were considered legitimate targets, even if they themselves did not participate in such incidents. The two soldiers also described a discourse that dehumanized Palestinians.
Many Israelis have strong objections to Breaking the Silence. They argue that this type of testimony contributes to hatred of Israel, causes the country to be treated unfairly, and that even if the reports are true, they should be discussed domestically rather than in a hostile international stage.
Of course, Swedish journalists do not need to concern themselves with this—but it can help to understand the context. Many Swedes would likely raise an eyebrow if Swedish organizations on the political fringe were setting the agenda for Sweden’s image abroad. In this case, the soldiers are telling an important story—the problem is that the Swedish press misunderstood it.
A key issue concerns how to distinguish between different types of armed forces. Traditionally, there is a difference between terrorists or non-state actors who use violence against civilians and state-controlled armies with formal military forces, command structures, and legal frameworks. That definition is largely irrelevant for Israelis because Hamas is a hybrid actor. Although the organization uses terrorist methods, its military branch—the al-Qassam Brigades—is structured like an army, with battalions and brigades, elite units, command chains, and modern weapons systems. During the war, this was also supported by high-tech disinformation campaigns, a financial empire of global investments, leaders living luxuriously outside the region, and alliances with some of the world’s most tyrannical regimes.
This paints the Israeli soldiers’ testimony in a very specific colour since Hamas, despite its military structure, is not bound by international law. Its militants can behead, rape, and execute civilians, burn people alive, and take children as hostages—with or without uniforms—while exploiting its other source of power – the power of sovereignty, and the civilian control the organisation holds in Gaza. Expecting Israel not to act against individuals simply because they are not in uniform in this asymmetric conflict may be understandable, but it is hardly surprising that the reality forces terrible dilemmas and tragic decisions.
The Israeli soldiers confirm that Israel, despite the genocidal nature of the Hamas attack against it, at least tried to maintain some form of legal framework. They say civilians were evacuated, leaflets were dropped as warnings, orders were given not to shoot women and children, and no-go zones were established in order to limit Israel's massive firepower. Using human shields is obviously illegal and should be punished. But the claim that journalists and healthcare workers are always protected in a reality where Hamas has been shown to use both journalistic and medical infrastructure for attacks on Israeli civilians is detached from reality.
Israel claims that intercepted communications show Hamas used ambulances to transport fighters, weapons, and equipment. Hamas also hid weapons and command centers in hospitals, schools, mosques, and private homes. The IDF has released images that allegedly confirm this. Furthermore, at least three civilian hostages—Almog Meir Jan, Andrey Kozlov, and Shlomi Ziv—were reportedly held in a family home in Gaza where the son was a journalist and the father a doctor. There are also allegations that so-called freelance journalists were embedded in Hamas units on October 7 and documented the massacre for propaganda purposes.
The fact that Hamas controlled the Gaza Strip with an iron grip for years means that almost everything in Gaza effectively became part of the effort to destroy Israel. When the soldiers say they were told “everything is a military target,” this is viewed as condemning evidence against Israel—but in reality, it is not far from the truth.
International law recognizes these complex circumstances. While it may seem unfair to those unaccustomed to war, under the Geneva Conventions civilian structures—including hospitals—can lose their protection if they are used for military purposes. Even unarmed combatants and civilians participating in hostilities can, under certain circumstances, be considered legitimate targets. This is not what Israel claims—it is how international law works.
The reality described by the Israeli soldiers is horrific. Some of it, such as the use of human shields, also appears illegal. It can and should be discussed. It can and should be used for journalistic purposes and, hopefully, ultimately, for reconciliation when the heartbreaking testimonies from both sides become part of a healing process. That said, nothing in what the soldiers said in Sweden confirms allegations of genocide or deliberate starvation of civilians. Using these stories to imply that these horrific accusations are true is an abuse of the witnesses and their experiences.
Finally, there is one more aspect to consider. Being scared, wanting revenge, and not adhering to strict moral ideals under fire is natural in armed conflict. So too are remorse and shame. The Israeli soldiers who came to Stockholm were brave enough to share this with the world. But a reasonable question to pose to Diakonia, which organized the visit, is: Where is the Palestinian Breaking the Silence? Where are the remorseful Hamas fighters? Where are the Islamic Jihad militants ashamed of massacring Israeli civilians and now revealing their actions as “deeply immoral and devastating to our neighbors,” as one of the Israeli activists put it? Are these ignored by Diakonia—or do they simply not exist?
The ceasefire which has been in effect in Gaza for several months has given Israelis and Palestinians an opportunity to reflect on their next steps, and to begin rebuilding and recovering after two of the most difficult years in the region’s history. Although Israel is slowly disappearing from the international headlines, it remains important to examine what is actually taking place in its political arena. If there's anything to learn from recent history it's that what happens there will influence global politics for many years to come.
One of the war’s results is that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who is currently on trial for corruption, is doing everything he can to control the historical narrative of the war and avoid taking responsibility for Israel’s failure on October 7. Instead, he places the blame on the security services and his political opponents. He refuses to establish an independent official inquiry commission and is doing his utmost to replace Israel’s military and legal elite with loyal officials. These changes may help Netanyahu evade accountability for the charges against him. But for his coalition partners—far-right, fundamentalist, and ultranationalist parties—they are a means to a broader goal: undermining Israel’s liberal democracy.
For example, the Knesset, Israel’s parliament, is discussing a bill that would expand state control over the media. The proposal would replace existing regulatory bodies with a new authority whose members are appointed by the government—effectively enabling political control over broadcast content. The bill has drawn criticism from the government’s legal adviser, who warned that it threatens freedom of the press. It is hardly surprising that the same attorney general is among those the government is attempting to remove.
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Because Israel is a democratic country, many Israelis are demonstrating against these proposals and other government measures. In recent months, however, many protesters have claimed that the police are acting in ways they did not previously. They report arbitrary arrests and increased use of force, including stun grenades and mounted riot police.
The minister responsible for this is Itamar Ben-Gvir, a far-right politician previously convicted of incitement and support for terrorism. While he is busy consolidating control over the police within Israel, another minister, Bezalel Smotrich, is consolidating control over the West Bank. Smotrich is laying the groundwork for potential annexation and is taking no action against the growing violence perpetrated by extremist settlers.
Netanyahu himself has recently reaffirmed his intention to continue pursuing the so-called judicial reform which many in Israel describe as a judicial overhaul, as it threatens the fundamental principles of the rule of law and the separation of powers, weakens the independence of the courts, and risks undermining democracy. The issue has now returned to the parliamentary agenda and in addition, efforts to limit the powers of the attorney general and the Supreme Court are being resumed. Another bill currently under discussion would introduce the death penalty for terrorist offenses—formally to prevent Hamas and other groups from taking Israelis hostage in order to exchange them for convicted terrorists, but there are also those motivated simply by revenge.
If the death penalty does not sound like a sufficiently reactionary reform, the Knesset has even discussed the conservative Jewish concept of shmirat negiah—the obligation for a man and a woman who are not married to each other to refrain from physical contact. It is not an official legislative proposal, at least not yet. But the mere fact that it is being discussed alarms liberal and secular Israelis—and rightly so.
Swedes have always had a deep interest in Israel. This can have both positive and negative effects. To understand whether Sweden’s voice can contribute something meaningful in this context, we should examine the country’s current discourse on Israel.
The political left in Sweden has unfortunately totaly lost its bearings. Many of its supporters have embraced Hamas’ narrative of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict. This does not necessarily mean they support terrorism, but the view of Israel as a settler-colonial project that should be boycotted and opposed regardless of its policies or leadership has spread from a radical minority into mainstream politics. Even established political parties have begun discussing the dangerous idea of a one-state solution.
A one-state solution would either mean the end of the Jewish state—which even the Swedish left previously supported—or plunge the entire region into an even worse bloodbath than what we have witnessed over the past two years.
Equally dangerous is the stance of Sweden’s populist right. Supporting Israel because its current leaders appear to use methods similar to those of authoritarian, illiberal regimes, or because they see Israel as a symbol of a struggle against Islam, is both misguided and harmful. It is also a betrayal of the Israelis who are fighting for a democratic, liberal, and peaceful future.
This year, both Swedes and Israelis are heading to the polls. If Sweden still wishes to exert a positive influence on Israel (and on the Palestinians, for that matter), Swedish supporters of the left should cooperate with Israeli artists, entrepreneurs, researchers, and academics who are independent and often in opposition to the government, rather than the easy and intellectually lazy solution of boycotting and margenelizing them.
The Swedish right should support courageous Israeli leaders who oppose the government’s reactionary impulses and fight for democratic values, rather than backing corrupt leaders and extremist parties that are dragging Israel back toward the Middle Ages. Any other approach amounts to rewarding both Hamas and Jewish extremists and for those who live in the region, it is yet another step on the road to hell.
Filmmaker Tal Kantor's Israeli-French coproduction, the animated short film 'Letter to a Pig,' exploring intergenerational trauma and its potential to lead to empathy, has received numerous accolades. Now, a rabbi in Sweden has shown the film to Jewish-Muslim audiences to encourage dialogue post October 7 and the Israel-Gaza war.
Israeli animation filmmaker and visual artist Tal Kantor, 37, has taken her film "Letter to a Pig" to more film festivals, master classes, school seminars, and public screenings than she can easily remember. These events have taken place all over the world since the film was first screened in 2022, and there are more to come. From Harvard University to the Sigmund Freud Museum in Vienna, from the Academy Museum of Motion Pictures in L.A. to the Museum of Contemporary Art in Zagreb, it seems like Kantor and her film have been everywhere.
The 17-minute piece of animated art has also won Kantor multiple prizes. These include the Ophir Award, known as "the Israeli Oscar," the Best Narrative Short at the Ottawa International Animation Festival, the Excellence Award at the Japan Media Arts Festival and prizes, and honorable mentions at animation festivals in Belgium and France, and even an Oscar nomination for Best Animated Short Film in 2024.
The film itself took about five years to complete because of the meticulous hand-drawn animation style, which is combined with live action and involves visionary techniques and imagery. It was produced by The Hive Studio in Israel and Miyu Productions in France. It is based on one of Kantor's real-life childhood memories, and it depicts the way pain and collective trauma are transmitted from one generation to another, and the role they play in human history, society, and identity.
The film's main character is a girl who, together with her classmates, listens to the testimony of a Holocaust survivor in an Israeli school. Part of the testimony is a letter that the survivor wrote to a pig which, as he remembers, saved his life while he was hiding from the Nazis in a pigsty. In the film, the young schoolgirl sinks into a disturbing surrealistic dream while listening to the testimony. During the dream, new perspectives of good and evil are created in the girl's mind, and these expose her and her fellow students to the results of violence, victimhood, and trauma.
The pig's role shifts from savior to monster to victim, while the young children also go through a transformation. They start out as passive listeners and gradually become a threatening mob. The Holocaust may be the film's starting point, but "Letter to a Pig" is not a "Holocaust film." It's about universal motifs such as violence and suffering created by intergenerational trauma, which develops into a siege mentality. But it's also about empathy and the possibility to recognize other narratives through dialogue.
For Rabbi Moshe David HaCohen, 46, the narratives of pain and suffering, leading to endless conflict, actually drew him to the piece. HaCohen has just started his second term as the rabbi of the small Jewish community in Sweden's third-largest city, Malmö. In 2017, at the beginning of his first term as Malmö's rabbi (which ended in 2022), HaCohen founded Amanah, an organization based on his cooperation with a local imam to counter discrimination and build trust between the city's Jewish and Muslim populations. For a few years this worked very well, but the organization gradually dissolved as a result of the October 7 massacre, the ensuing Israel-Gaza war and the polarization caused by these events.
HaCohen is now launching a new organization named B.R.I.T – an acronym for Building Resilience, Identity, and Trust, and a reference to the Hebrew word for "covenant." He says the organization will work to counter polarization and foster relations between Jews and Muslims in several European countries. "I saw how Tal took something which is seen as almost holy like the Holocaust, and I was impressed by the way she asked complex questions that society today has to deal with," HaCohen told Haaretz in an interview in Stockholm. "The most serious question is how do we dismantle this complex conflict and create trust. Telling stories, like Tal does in her film, is a way to reach the real issue and move forward to create that kind of trust. People need hope, and I thought that during this time of conflict it would be good to create a debate based on the film."
One of the side effects of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is the conflict in many European countries over the last two years, between Jewish Israel supporters and Muslim Palestinian supporters, who are entangled in cycles of suspicion and hostility. Jews have experienced rising levels of antisemitism, aggressive demonstrations at which protestors declare support for Hamas, and accusations of being responsible for the situation in Gaza because of their support for Israel.
Many European Muslims have found themselves on the receiving end of traditional anti-immigration and xenophobic attitudes, which are now amplified in response to the actions of elements of the pro-Palestinian solidarity movement. Even though there is now a cease-fire in the Middle East, tensions between the pro-Israel and pro-Palestinian camps and their supporters in many European countries persist.
And so Rabbi HaCohen asked Kantor to bring her film to Sweden in November to try to create productive dialogue. Kantor says that the film has taken part in about 150 festivals so far, and she has attended many of them personally. Meeting audiences together with the international crew who worked with her on the film is always important to her. "The film started from a very personal experience, and it has now become universal. Meeting audiences …. means everything to me," she says. "After screenings, people open up to me; they talk about their own experiences and their own perspectives. Some of them cry and open their hearts while talking about the multi-generational trauma they see in the film."
Still, for Kantor this wasn't just another invitation to a European cultural event. Instead of festival curators and ceremony producers, the invitation came from a rabbi who wanted to show her film as a tool for creating change and providing hope. Kantor couldn't refuse.
From right: Rabbi Moshe David HaCohen, Somar Al-Naher, Tal Kantor and Anneli Rådestad. Photo: Peter Lööv Roos
"Moshe David explained who he was and told me about what he does," Kantor told Haaretz in a local Stockholm café a day before she returned to Israel. "I immediately understood that he wasn't interested in the film because of its Oscar nomination or its international success. It was about the film's content…. The way he talked about it moved me deeply. He recognized its exploration of the danger of inherited trauma, fear, and narratives of cruelty, and how remaining in a place of victimhood can keep that cycle alive.
"He also saw how the film gestures toward compassion for all people [and towards] humanity and hope. It meant a great deal to me that he saw in the film a tool for opening a space for dialogue in such a polarized moment."
Noa Eshkol's 'Mourning Carpet' from 1974 was inspired by the Israelis who died in a Palestinian terror attack that year. Opposition to the showing of the work lays bare the unique enmity toward Israel
The scene at Norway's National Museum a month ago was unusual, even for a protest in Oslo in a year of countless harsh demonstrations against Israel. In the "On the Barricades" room showing works with a political context, dozens of people sat on the floor and shouted "Remove the carpet!"
The participants, including artists and cultural figures, were protesting the showing of one of the works, 1974's "Mourning Carpet," a 174-by-160-centimeter (roughly 6-foot-by-5-foot) wall carpet by Israeli textile artist and choreographer Noa Eshkol. The piece features images of flowers in an array of colors. A YouTube video and media photos reveal the flavor of the protest. The chants filled the room, a Palestinian flag had been placed on the floor, and a few demonstrators wore kaffiyehs. Israel and Hamas' signing of a cease-fire agreement that day, October 9, didn't seem to register much.
A few days earlier an initiator of the protest, Norwegian artist Victor Lind, explained what was rousing the demonstrators' anger. "The National Museum has chosen to show a work that legitimizes the occupation of Palestine by the war criminal the State of Israel," he said in a panel discussion in Oslo in September. Lind also claimed that the work was "war propaganda" that legitimized genocide and fascism.
The call to remove Eshkol's work was also heard in letters, newspaper articles and social media posts; even employees of the museum joined in. But for now, the piece is still there and the museum hasn't voiced any intention to pull it. "The National Museum isn't supposed to be a political player," the museum's director, Ingrid Roynesdal, told Aftenposten, Norway's most popular daily. She added: "If we as a museum choose to become an active player in geopolitical debates, we're likely in the end to contribute to a narrowing of freedom of expression."
The demonstration at the museum joins a long list of protests and boycotts over the past two years against Israel and Israeli artists, scholars, athletes and businesses. But the battle surrounding Eshkol's work seems particularly strident. It reflects the depth of the crisis of Israel's international standing and the scale of the hatred for Israel in Europe, which goes far beyond opposition to the war in Gaza.
Noa Eshkol, "Mourning Carpet (Following the Massacre at the Ma'alot School). Credit: Jens Ziehe/Photographie/Neugerriemschneider Berlin
The story of the carpet begins with a national trauma in Israel. It was May 1974, slightly over six months since the Yom Kippur War and around two years since a string of terror attacks: the Munich Olympics massacre, the hijacking of a Sabena airliner that landed in Israel, and an assault at Israel's airport that killed 26 civilians. In May 1974, terrorists from the Democratic Front for the Liberation of Palestine infiltrated from Lebanon into Israel.
Over two days, with rifles, hand grenades and explosives, the DFLP terrorists killed and wounded Israelis in a series of attacks, the worst being the abduction of 85 Safed high school students who were staying at a school in another northern town, Ma'alot.
The students, some of whose teachers fled the building as the terrorists entered, served as bargaining chips for the gunmen, who sought the release of Palestinian prisoners. During negotiations, the government played for time as it planned a commando raid. The results were tragic in what is now known as the Ma'alot massacre. The storming of the building ended with the death of more than two dozen people, most of them students.
Like many Israelis, Noa Eshkol was shocked by the attack. Eshkol, who was born in 1924, is known for Eshkol-Wachman movement notation. She and her student Avraham Wachman created a system of symbols for describing movement; for example, in choreography. The work "Mourning Carpet," whose full name is "Mourning Carpet (After the Ma'alot School Massacre)," was the artist's response to the terror attack.
"This is one of the hundreds of carpets that Noa created in the final decades of her life," says Mooky Dagan, a human rights activist, musician and art curator who manages Eshkol's estate and heads the foundation established in her name. Dagan, who was a close friend of Eshkol's, adds: "It's one of her only carpets that can be connected to a specific event. That's why it was important to me to add the parenthetical information to the title."
Dagan says Eshkol created several mourning carpets after the Yom Kippur War. Another carpet, which was sold to the Pompidou Center in Paris, is called "Leaving Yamit," referring to an Israeli town in Egypt's Sinai Peninsula, before it was uprooted in 1982 as part of the Egyptian-Israeli peace deal. "Another one was named after Golda Meir, but these are the exceptions connected to a specific event or person," Dagan says. "She created over 1,000 carpets."
Dagan sees the irony in the fact that the carpet in Oslo is stirring such controversy. "The incident in Ma'alot shook the foundations," he says. "It was an event with hostages including many children, it launched a debate on surrendering to terrorists or taking military action, and it shook the country. It became a formative event, and it's symbolic in light of what's happening today in Israel and in Gaza." Dagan says the protest in Oslo has been the toughest challenge when it comes to Eshkol's work being shown abroad. He says his friend never wanted to display her carpets at all.
On a few rare occasions, he was able to convince her otherwise, but the international breakthrough came after her death in 2007, when he says she became a brand name and a raft of museums acquired her works. Solo exhibitions of her art have been staged in Germany, the Netherlands, Brazil, Sweden, Norway and Israel, and her works have taken part in group exhibitions in many other countries. "In the last years of her life she was drawn to creating the carpets in a way that she herself couldn't explain," Dagan says. "It became the most important thing in her life."
Would you say that these are political works? It's true that she was the daughter of Israel's third prime minister, Levi Eshkol, a fact that wasn't officially mentioned in the protest but came up in some of the online debates. But can she be linked to a specific political viewpoint?
"I can't speak in her name, and it's absurd to speak for people after their death. But I was very close to her and we became close friends already after the Six-Day War. When it came to the carpets, I shared the process of creation with her intimately. Noa was a political person, but her viewpoint wasn't linked to a party and she didn't intervene in specific political issues. Even though her father was the prime minister, and even though she was born on Kibbutz Degania and was thoroughly Israeli, she was totally antiestablishment. That was the paradox in her. Even though she breathed her Israeli identity, she created movement notation, which is the most universal thing possible. Her worldview was universal; she stressed this and even refused to patent her movement notation, so that the whole world could use it."
Dagan describes Eshkol as a dominant personality with solid opinions and clear thinking. She wouldn't take anything for granted, hated clichés and lived as a feminist. Surrounded by students, she detested titles and rebelled against every framework and consensus. She didn't want to be a candidate for the Israel Prize and convinced her friend Uri Zohar to turn down the 1976 prize for film because it was granted by the government. "Her attitude, spiritually and practically, was that of a rebel," Dagan says.
Just because of the protest against her work in Oslo, it would be interesting to know if she had clear opinions about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.
"I can definitely attest that she was a person with a worldview that's now called leftist. Even though she detested labels of this kind, above all she had a humanistic outlook. She wasn't an activist, but the current situation would have clearly driven her crazy. Until her death she had the worldview of a pure dove."
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Hawk or dove, it makes no difference to the demonstrators against the National Museum in Oslo, which bought Eshkol's work in 2022. In May this year the work was hung in Room 76, the space reserved for political art. When the director was asked by the online contemporary art magazine Kunstkritikk why she chose it, she said the museum switches works in its rooms so that all the works can be better preserved.
"Room 76 is devoted to political art, mainly from 1965 to 1980," she said. "This work was chosen according to the regular procedures. The room displays a variety of artistic expressions and strategies, and tries to reflect the art of the period when the works were created."
Lind, the Norwegian artist, said about the storm after the decision to display "Mourning Carpet": "We all see pictures from Gaza every day of child-size white body bags, small white cloth sacks tied with rope at the top and bottom. He said in the panel discussion: "The genocide being perpetrated by Israel against the Palestinians is intolerable. Little children, like our children, are dying of starvation. A mother who has no more milk because she herself is suffering from malnutrition. She was shot in the stomach by Israeli soldiers while waiting in line for food. There's a smell of gas in Gaza. I'm sorry that the situation requires such harsh language."
Lind, 84, was among political artists identified with the radical left in the early '70s. He also created works commemorating the Holocaust of Norway's Jews. Regarding "Mourning Carpet," he said that "the National Museum's choice to show this work during the ongoing genocide in Gaza infuriates me because of its curating decisions with a viewpoint of supporting the Israeli narrative. … The work depicts the Israelis as the victims of Palestinian terror.
"'Mourning Carpet' commemorates the Israelis who were killed during the Palestinian revolt against the Israeli occupation. The work reflects Israel's official narrative of the Israel-Palestinian conflict from 1948 until today, a narrative that sees Israel as the main victim throughout." Lind's protest included a complaint about the removal of Norwegian works in favor of the Israeli work. "Mourning Carpet" is displayed alongside pieces by Norwegian artists, including Lind himself, whose work is "art in favor of freedom and against occupation and oppression," he said.
Geir Egil Bergjord, chairman of the Association of Norwegian Visual Artists, wrote in Aftenposten: "The museum's decision to show this work now, during what many consider a genocide in Gaza, has given the work political significance. A national museum can't be neutral in every context. It must balance artistic freedom and the context in which the work is displayed.
"The museum has removed political works by Norwegian artists to make room for a work that supports the narrative of an occupier, Israel. The director must recognize that fact. Curating decisions require more than vague declarations of 'space for artistic expression.'"
The left-wing Norwegian newspaper Klassekampen examined the extent Norwegian museums took an interest in the war between Israel and Hamas. It found that museums in Bergen and Trondheim are showing works by Palestinian artists. It also found that the Nitja Center for Contemporary Art in Lillestrom has held an exhibition of video works by Palestinian artists, as well as an exhibition of posters for Palestine and works by Palestinian artist Hasan Daraghmeh. It has also shown aerial photographs by Norwegian photographer Hedevig Anker "filmed in Palestine before the establishment of the State of Israel."
Several employees took part in the protest at the National Museum. "We aren't neutral, we stand in solidarity with Palestine," curator Monica Holmen told Klassekampen. One complaint by the anti-Eshkol demonstrators was the listing of her place of birth as Israel, even though the artist was born 24 years before the state was established. The sign has been changed to "British Mandate Palestine (today's Israel)."
The original decision was to follow the museum's policy: The country of an artist's birth is noted in its modern version even if it had a different name during the artist's lifetime. Only after public pressure did the museum change tack, while creating the impression that it had made a technical error. (Though internal emails leaked to the Norwegian media show that the museum was well aware of the sensitivity of the subject.)
It was very difficult to speak to the protesters themselves and give them a chance to explain their viewpoint to Israeli readers. Lind declined to be interviewed by Haaretz. Requests to the Association of Norwegian Visual Artists were unsuccessful at first, but Egil Bergjord, the chairman, eventually agreed. He said in an English-language email: "I would like you to note that the Norwegian Visual Artists Association (NBK) has not asked the museum to remove the artwork. Rather, NBK has criticized the museum for displaying it without providing a proper contextualization." He said that if "our National Museum exhibits Eshkol's work without presenting alternative perspectives or critical discourse, the museum fails to acknowledge or critically engage with the political significance of its curatorial decisions."
The National Museum said it couldn't arrange an interview with the director or the person responsible for the exhibition. Later it said that these officials couldn't be interviewed due to the public debate about the museum's decision – precisely the debate that Haaretz wanted to discuss.
***
"Museums must of course listen to different opinions, but their job isn't to meet the demands of various groups," says Marianne Hultman, a Swedish curator and art historian who spent some of her childhood in Israel. She has worked in Norway for nearly 20 years, and four years ago, as director of the Oslo Kunstforening art gallery and society, she curated an Eshkol exhibition in cooperation with Sweden's Norrköping Art Museum and the organization Jewish Culture in Sweden.
Regarding Eshkol's controversial work, she says: "Eshkol often used tablecloths, curtains and blankets as a base for her textile collages. In this work she used one of the army blankets brought to her by one of her dancers after the Yom Kippur War. "In 'Mourning Carpet' the symbolically charged fabric is allowed to emerge and become an integral part of the image. With remnants from the clothing industry, the image bears traces of bodily forms and points to the absence of the body, pointing to the traces of human life.
"The military blanket functions concretely as a base for the pieces of fabric, and symbolically as a representation of the violence that marked the event. It's a work of mourning for all the lives lost in connection with the massacre. Today it perhaps also expresses grief over a conflict that continues to leave deep traces of suffering and death."
Hultman believes there is justification for including Eshkol's work in the political art space at the National Museum, and she's disappointed at the protest against it. "How would our museums look if every artwork had to meet the same demands that Noa Eshkol's 'Mourning Carpet' now faces?" she asks. "It would mean that all artists had to bear responsibility for their country's political, religious and military choices. And where would that leave artistic freedom?"
When it comes to the past, Medelhavsmuseet (The Swedish Museum of Mediterranean and Near Eastern Antiquities) largely ignores Israel, but when it comes to the present the museum presents only different shades of the same narrative, one that excludes a balanced, mainstream Israeli perspective. This in itself is not necessarily a problem. However, since public funds are being used and this is all payed for by tax-payers money, why not invest in presenting all sides of the story? Are Israelis so dehumanized that their pain, loss, and sacrifice are not considered worthy of being told?
The lecture hall at Medelhavsmuseet was full on September 4th. The evening seminar which took place there was called "Repair, Return and Reconstruction for Palestine’s Decolonized Future", and in case the message wasn’t clear enough from the name, during most of the evening there was a photograph of Gaza and a slogan in Arabic and English projected on the screen behind the panel members. The slogan read: “Glory to Gaza”.
The seminar itself wasn’t exactly intellectually challenging and the message was pretty straight forward. When Israel was mentioned by all speakers it was associated with very specific words. Genocide, occupation, oppression, destruction, starvation, ethnic cleansing, collective punishment and settler-colonialism were some of the favourites. There was also a consensus about the Palestinian reaction to the Israeli aggression. Here the popular words were: education, culture, conservation, de-colonization, renovation and restoration. Listening to the panel members it sounded like Palestinian resistance is all about Mahmoud Darwish poems, architecture podcasts and a struggle for free press.
In an hour and a half of debate there was nothing about Palestinian terror or violence, there were no suicide bombings or rockets, Hamas wasn’t mentioned and October 7th was just the date when the current Israeli offensive started. Since all panel members were engaged in architecture and restoration and apparently very well acquainted with Gaza, it was interesting that the immense military underground tunnel infrastructure, a remarkable architectural achievement in itself, was not mentioned. There was also no mention of another kind of physical destruction – the one of Israeli communities. No destroyed and abandoned kibbutzim, no apartments demolished by Qassam rockets and no homes burned to the ground with entire families still inside. There were no hostages, no executions and no organized rape and sexual violence. The whole event felt like a motivational inspirational gathering for activists, where all the speakers clearly presented a Palestinian narrative, and many in the audience were members of the so-called "pro-Palestinian" movement. Some wore kaffiyehs, a couple of them even had red triangles (a Hamas symbol) on them.
In itself, all this is completely legitimate. In a democracy, people are free to organize whatever seminar they wish. What is, however, somewhat troubling is that Medelhavsmuseet is part of a government agency (Statens museer för världskultur) funded by taxpayers, with tens of millions of Swedish Crowns each year. When Rani Kasapi, Head of Content and Learning at Världskulturmuseerna, opened the seminar, she also mentioned that other institutions were also involved in organizing it: the Swedish Institute of International Affairs (UI), the Swedish Research Institute in Istanbul (SRII), and the Swedish Arts Grants Committee. All of these are also fully or partially funded by Swedish taxpayers, raising the question – why should funds that could be spent on education and culture for the benefit of all be used for a one-sided, highly political event based on foreign policy propaganda?
Perhaps, the idea was to have another event to balance the message and show another side and a different narrative. And indeed, on October 7th, a very symbolic and politically charged date, another event was planned by the museum. This time the title was: What’s Happening in Israel Now? (Vad händer i Israel nu?). In a perfect world, this could have been the the missing piece, the event that shows that the situation is more complex than just propaganda. But the world isn’t perfect. According to publications, the event had only one speaker – Göran Rosenberg. The same Rosenberg who only a few months earlier described Israel as a "morally dead project" and questioned its future existents in its current form. It’s as if the museum invited an anti-vaxer to lecture about the importance of vaccinations. Was it really so hard to find another voice to describe the situation in Israel? One who at least believes in its future? Medelhavsmuseet has hosted more events about the region in the last couple of years — for example, there was a book talk with Cecilia Uddén, one of Swedish media’s most critical voices when it comes to Israel. There was also a UI event featuring several Israeli left-wing activists. But the bigger picture is that, aside from rare exceptions, Medelhavsmuseet largely presents different shades of the same narrative, one that excludes a balanced, mainstream Israeli perspective. This in itself is not necessarily a problem. However, if public funds are being used, why not invest in presenting all sides of the story? Are Israelis so dehumanized that their pain, loss, and sacrifice are not considered worthy of being told?
Looking a bit deeper, it’s obvious that Medelhavsmusset doesn’t ignore the Israeli perspective only when it comes to the current conflict. For some reason, it ignores Israel’s existence all together (apart from occasionally mentioning it as a colonial bully destructing the fascinating, authentic and noble people of the orient). Israel as a modern state and the ancient Jewish entities in the Eastern Mediterranean like the Kingdoms of Jehuda and The Northern Kingdom of Israel are a treasure of history, archaeology and ancient culture. They’re the origin story of Christianity and Western civilization and a fascinating story of cultural, social and linguistic revival. Still, in the last twenty years of exhibitions, it seems like Medelhavsmuseet hasn’t had a single exhibition presenting Israeli or Jewish culture and history. I spoke with two historians who have studied this in detail. One of them said that “ancient Jewish history is almost completely erased from the museum’s portrayal of the ancient Mediterranean region”. The other said that for historical reasons, the museum focuses on Egypt and Cyprus, which is fine, but even when those cultures had strong connections to Jews in the region, those connections are usually not mentioned, and even on the rare occasions that they are the name Israel never is.
And they're right. Medelhavsmuseet has presented many exhibitions about Egypt, Greece, Rome, Syria, Cyprus, Turkey – and even non-Mediterranean countries such as Iraq. In fact, the only recent exhibition that touched on Israel was “Nakba,” which according to the Jewish Central Council was highly one-sided and sparked debate over whether the museum was pursuing a political agenda. The museum responded that “it is not a historical exhibition, but a small audio exhibition with stories”. When representatives from the Jewish Central Council met with the superintendent of Statens museer för världskultur regarding this, their concerns were not taken seriously.
There’s no doubt that the story of the Nakba should be told. It’s an important part of the region’s history. But if this was only a “small audio exhibition with stories”, where is the next audio exhibition with the other stories from the same war – for example, those about Holocaust survivors who were killed in the battle field after being freed from Auschwitz, or those about massacres of Jews that took place during the same time, or the ones about the Jordanians expelling the Jews from Jerusalem’s old town or the Egyptians illegally occupying Gaza?
During the debate with the Jewish Central Council, the museum mentioned one exhibition – Egypt’s Jews (Egyptens judar), perhaps as one with a more “Jewish narrative”. But the truth is that even when the exhibition explains how Egyptian Jews were attacked, harassed, arrested and expelled in the 1950s and 60s, it’s clear that the message is that this is a direct result of Zionism. The exhibition explains how for 3,000 years Jews were “totally integrated in the surrounding society” (helt integrerade i det omgivande samhället) and only when the UN decided to “divide Palestine” and the 1948 war broke out, Egyptians started “anti-Zionists riots” and resisted “foreign influence”. These texts are a wonderful example of verbal acrobatics. There’s no Egyptian antisemitism, no Muslim Brotherhood (the mother movement of Hamas) promoting genocidal racism against Jews, just an unfortunate mixing up (ihopblandning) of “Jews” and “Zionists”. This makes sense since one of the exhibition’s production partners was Magda Haroun, Head of the Jewish Community Council in Egypt and a vocal opponent of Israel who claims that Zionism is a racist movement. Interestingly, the exhibition which mentions the wars between Israel and Egypt, doesn’t discuss Egyptian President Saadat’s historic recognition of Israel and the resulting Israel-Egypt peace agreement. One can only assume that the reason is that if the museum tells its visitors about Egypt recognizing Israel, this may lead to a demand that Medelhavsmuseet does the same.
Reactions to the terrorist attack at Bondi Beach have largely focused on the hateful rhetoric believed to have contributed to the violent extremism that claimed 15 lives – the deadliest attack on Jews since October 7. That focus is understandable after two years of global demonstrations under slogans such as “globalize the intifada.”
At the same time, the attack is rooted in more than a toxic debate climate. It also involves a geopolitical and security dimension that has primarily been raised by Israeli officials.
According to Israeli intelligence assessments, links had already existed for several months between Australian pro-Palestinian activists and groups such as the Islamic State, al-Qaeda, and Iran’s Revolutionary Guard. Against this backdrop, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu accused Australia’s prime minister of betraying the country’s Jews. After the attack, Netanyahu stated that he had already warned in August that recognizing Palestine would, in his words, “pour fuel on the antisemitic fire, reward Hamas terrorists, and encourage threats against Australia’s Jews.”
This raises a number of questions. Does Australia really need Israeli intelligence to identify threats against its Jewish population? And more importantly: is Netanyahu truly the right person to lecture others about being unprepared for Islamist terrorism, when his own government bears responsibility for Israel’s worst catastrophe in decades?
But Netanyahu is not the central issue. What matters is that the warnings proved correct. A massacre of Jews took place in Australia, carried out by men who had ISIS flags in their car. Australian authorities knew that one of the perpetrators had ties to ISIS and that his father, the other perpetrator, legally owned at least six weapons. Despite this, no warning flags were raised, and the Jewish event lacked police protection when the attack occurred.
Islamists operate freely in Sweden
Against this background, Europe should ask itself a clear question. If Australia’s policies over the past two years resemble those pursued in many European countries, could what happened at Bondi Beach happen here?
Both domestic and foreign policy must be scrutinized. Domestically, this concerns insufficient resources to protect Jewish sites, an inability to counter conspiracy theories, and complacency toward Islamist actors. These challenges affect all European countries, including Sweden. Swedish journalists have recently exposed how Islamists operate freely in Sweden, how Iranian actors direct terrorist activity via Swedish organized crime, and what links Swedish activists have to terrorist movements such as the PFLP.
“Jews in countries that do not take Islamist terrorism seriously end up paying the price, regardless of whether government passivity stems from fear, incompetence, or indifference.”
Sweden is not alone. According to a recent Europol report, jihadist terrorism remains a central security challenge for the EU, with groups such as al-Qaeda and the Islamic State exploiting the conflict in Gaza. Added to this is Hamas, which, according to Israel’s Mossad and European intelligence services, has planned attacks against Jews in Europe since 2023. The causal link is clear: Jews in countries that do not take Islamist terrorism seriously pay the price.
Kvartal
Why foreign policy matters
How, then, does foreign policy factor in? Can recognition of Palestine or harsh criticism of Israel encourage terrorism? Countries such as Spain, Norway, and Ireland pursue a clear line against Israel. Like Australia, they have recently recognized Palestine; they voice strong opposition to Israel in international forums and serve as comfortable host countries for movements that not only oppose Israeli policy but view the state itself as an illegitimate colonial project.
Australia’s prime minister firmly rejected Netanyahu’s claim that the country’s foreign policy had any connection to the attack. He may be right – such accusations require evidence. But that does not mean foreign policy is irrelevant to the climate surrounding antisemitic hate crimes.
First, governments – unlike individuals – must understand the unique situation Jews face. Demonstrations are marked by hatred, aggression, Nazi comparisons, terrorist symbols, and boycotts. Of course, protests are legitimate in a democracy, and no one seriously claims that all participants are violent antisemites. But at the political level, it is unclear whether countries such as Norway fully grasp what their Jewish populations are forced to endure. The situation is worsened by the fact that no other conflict in the world is covered as intensely – and, according to many, as one-sidedly – in Norwegian media. This has an enormous impact on Norway’s small Jewish community.
Second, does the tax-funded public sphere remain neutral, or does it contribute to an unsafe environment for Jews? What do teachers say? What do libraries display? How do healthcare professionals behave? This is a matter of public safety, not freedom of speech. In February, a video went viral showing two nurses at Bankstown Hospital in Sydney boasting about refusing care to – or even killing – Israeli patients. In Ireland, an official report found that school textbooks contain serious distortions of the Holocaust and Jewish history, which Jews in the country say fuel antisemitism. In Spain, Jewish organizations similarly warn that some teachers use classrooms for anti-Israel activism.
“Zero tolerance” is no longer enough
We can continue debating the limits of protest, but we must also scrutinize institutions. The state must protect freedom of expression, but it must also guarantee safety. That requires schools, hospitals, and libraries free from political propaganda and symbolic acts intended to influence public opinion.
Finally, it is a fact that jihadist terrorists in Europe are often exposed with the help of Israeli intelligence. Can Jews in Spain and Ireland truly trust that their governments will cooperate with the Mossad to save lives, when those same governments cannot even tolerate Israel’s participation in Eurovision?
After Bondi Beach, Europe’s governments must decide where they place their resources and political capital. If they are serious about protecting their Jewish populations, “zero tolerance” and symbolic gestures of solidarity are no longer sufficient. Political action is required – and it's required urgently.
A popular proverb says that a half-truth is a whole lie. The latest episode of SVT’s Utrikesbyrån about Hamas was a good example of that. That does not mean it wasn’t interesting. It was. Nor is there any doubt that the three participants — former Prime Minister Stefan Löfven, political scientist Marco Nilsson and Middle East analyst Bitte Hammargren — knew what they were talking about. But when it came to the analysis of Hamas, we were given only a half-truth.
The questions the presenter Rebecca Randhawa asked were: what is left of Hamas, will they lay down their arms, and who will govern Gaza. The first and the third questions are almost impossible to answer. Even Israeli intelligence does not know what remains of Hamas’s military capability, and Gaza’s future governance depends on a complicated geopolitical process. The second question, however, can be answered based on a deep understanding of what Hamas is, the choices it has made in the past, and what its ideological and political DNA is.
According to Löfven, Hamas’s power is the result of a paradox. Despite being one of Israel’s greatest enemies, its power originated with Israel’s political leadership. “Such an organization receives support (from Qatar, for example) simply because Israel wants to avoid the Palestinian Authority (PA) gaining any power.” Hammargren agreed and said that Hamas was a political asset for Israel. “Netanyahu’s line was that by letting Hamas grow in Gaza we don’t have to hear about a Palestinian statehood,” she said. This is a common analysis and it is partly true. Netanyahu and other Israeli leaders do indeed oppose a two-state solution. Because of this, his strategy was to weaken the PA, and many argue that one of the ways he did this was by allowing Hamas to grow. But this is only half the truth.
The other half, and the real reason Hamas rose to power and was able to retain it, is much simpler. The source of Hamas’s power is support from large parts of the Palestinian people. Even now, after two years of destruction and death that are a direct consequence of Hamas’s decision to massacre Israeli civilians on October 7, 2023, Hamas is still supported by many Palestinians. The international support from Qatar and Iran that Löfven and Hammargren mentioned is also not hard to understand. Iran’s regime has a long-term goal of eliminating “the Zionist entity,” and Qatar built its international position on supporting its ideological Muslim Brotherhood allies. Sure, Netanyahu miscalculated Hamas’s capacity and misread its intentions, but it was not he who made Hamas’s ideology popular, and it was not he who turned Qatar and Iran into dangerous regional destabilizing powers.
But where is Hamas heading? Utrikesbyrån’s two-and-a-half-minute clip tried to provide background. According to the clip, “Hamas removed the demand that Israel be destroyed, but still does not recognize the state of Israel.” This is not even a half-truth. Hamas is absolutely committed to the destruction of Israel. Yes, it created a new charter for foreign audiences, because the old document contained antisemitic propaganda that was not particularly popular on university campuses and in some Western circles. But even the new charter demands “all of Palestine” from the river to the sea, it does not accept the Oslo Accords or the two-state solution, and it still endorses “armed resistance,” which has been a decisive part of Hamas’s nature long before October 7. That includes blowing up buses and restaurants full of civilians as well as kidnapping, torturing and murdering Jews of all ages, genders and backgrounds. One interesting thing Utrikesbyrån did not mention is that Hamas activists have on several occasions been arrested in Europe for planning attacks on “Jewish targets.” Worth mentioning if anyone took the “new charter” seriously.
Despite (or perhaps because of) the violence, Hamas won the Palestinian elections in 2006 in both the West Bank and Gaza. Palestinians are not blind or politically incapable — they knew exactly what they were voting for. According to Utrikesbyrån’s experts, Netanyahu could have fought Hamas by strengthening the PA. It’s an interesting theory. Only problem is that it’s not true. Not during the years when Hamas was building its reign of terror, anyway. The reasons are that Netanyahu was not Israel’s prime minister at that time. Between 1999 and 2009 the prime ministers of Israel were Ehud Barak, Ariel Sharon and Ehud Olmert. The first was an outspoken advocate for a two-state solution, the second ended the occupation of Gaza, and the third was probably the one who offered the PA the most generous territorial compromise. Hamas was not impressed. It continued to build the fundamentalist, jihadist, genocidal faction within the Palestinian nationalist movement. Hamas did not need Netanyahu for this. It was fully capable of doing it on its own, while many Israelis were still considering peace and reconciliation.
Utrikesbyrån downplayed all of this. In the program there were no blown-up buses, no tunnels, rockets, high-tech international propaganda campaigns or brutal executions of Palestinian “collaborators.” October 7 was only mentioned in passing, as another point on the timeline. No hostages, no burned neighborhoods, no executed families. This is not a complaint that they “forgot October 7,” but a critique of incomplete analysis. How can one answer the question about Hamas’s intentions without taking into account that the organization recruited thousands of people who were willing not only to kill but also to commit gang rapes and sexualized torture in the name of Allah?
Netanyahu can and should be criticized for many things, but not for this. Sure, he did not destroy Hamas before October 7, and through his incompetence and corruption he may have contributed to the opposite. Israelis should hold him accountable for that. But this is far from the cause of the catastrophe. Hamas began building its advanced military capability long before Netanyahu, it remains standing, and many Palestinians still support it. Let us imagine that Netanyahu had decided to wipe out Hamas back in 2014. Now that we know that not even the destruction of Gaza did the job, would Stefan Löfven have supported an Israeli offensive on that scale? Would the Obama administration have allowed it? Would the UN have accepted it? Of course not. Everyone can complain about Netanyahu and everyone can criticize Hamas, but in the end — whose responsibility is it to eliminate Hamas, and who will support such an effort?
It is obvious that Stefan Löfven in no way supports Hamas. In Utrikesbyrån he spoke very clearly about the necessity of a political process with a reformed Palestinian Authority moving toward a two-state solution. But putting the blame for the situation on the Israeli government while ignoring Hamas’s inherently genocidal nature is a classic half-truth. It leads people to believe in conspiracy theories about secret Israeli involvement in the massacre of its own citizens, and more importantly — it shifts the focus to the wrong side. To reach a lasting ceasefire it would be wiser to focus on the “de‑Hamasification” of Gaza and support moderate forces on both sides that can help their communities recover from this two-year trauma and build a future together.
דיויד סטברו 