Saturday, February 21, 2026

 UK High Court Blocks Starmer’s Effort to Label Palestine Action a Terrorist Group


 February 20, 2026

Police arresting a protester against the proscription in London, 6 September 2025. Photograph Source: indigonolan – CC BY 4.0

Last year, I was living in the UK when activists from the anti-Zionist, pro-Palestinian direct action group Palestine Action hugely. embarrassed the Royal Air Force and the British government by cutting their way through a security fence surrounding  an RAF Airfield in Oxfordshire and spraying red paint on the jet engines of two aircraft known to have assisted Israel’s aerial slaughter of Palestinians in Gaza.

While the action was only “damaging“ to the planes if one considers having to apply paint remover to the vandals’ handiwork to remove it, the Labor government of Prime Minister Keir of Starmer responded  by claiming the “repairs” would cost £7 million (about US$10 million) and as such justified labeling the avowedly non-violent protest group guilty of  “terrorism” under a rarely used  Anti-Terrorism Law  enacted in 2000, had targeted  the likes of  Al Qaeda and the Irish Republican Army that actually sought to kill people. Although it did list property damage, the law one the quarter of q century of its being on the books has never before been against an action or an organization involved in just property damage and not seeking to harm people.

Labeling Palestine Action a  terrorist group, as ludicrous as it was, in fact was  and remains a serious matter for the protest organization which has been trying to force the government to stop supporting Israel’s US and UK-backed genocide in Gaza and the West Bank which was at the time slaughtering tens of thousands of Palestinian civilians, including many children,  with bombs, planes and weapons supplied by the UK and US. The action also targeted those many British citizens who were protesting over the same issue and specifically the effort to silence and destroy Palestine Action. This is because not only does the Antiterrorism Act cary a penalty for being  part of a designated terror organization of up to 14 years in jail. It also makes simply protesting for or speaking or writing favorably about or even just holding a sign supporting a designated terror organization.

I was dismayed to see Britain’s long history of supporting freedom of speech and protest (a tradition dating back to the Magna Carta and that inspired the addition of the First Amendment  protecting freedom of speech, press, religion, association and protest to the US Constitution), so casually trashed by PM Starmer and his Labour majority, their fatuous labeling of Palestine Action as a terrorist organization.

 I was I should say, dismayed but not surprised. PM Starmer, whose official résumé highlights his past experience as a human rights lawyer — one  who ironically once in 2003 passionately and successfully defended another protest group’s similar break-in and damaging of RAF planes in protest against Britain’s joining in the Bush-Cheney US invasion of Iraq  based upon  the lie that Iraq was constructing weapons of mass destruction—chemical and germ and even nuclear weapons.

Then too, more recently, Starmer before his election as PM in July 2024 was the British government’s head prosecutor, in which post  he slavishly did the bidding  of three US presidents — GW Bush, Barack Obama and Trump—in keeping journalist and Wikileaks founder Julian Assange in prison for over a decade in solitary confinement much of he time, and without any trial, much less conviction, while the US attempted to extradite him to face a treason charge.

The Starmer government’s legal attack on Palestine Action backfired spectacularly as elders, including people with canes, crutches and in wheelchairs, began attending huge  protests in public spaces, including popular tourist sites. They all  hand-written signs,  most saying ,’“I oppose Genocide” and “I support Palestine Action!”  The 2700 protesters arrested over several months, essentially begging by displaying  those banned lines  to be arrested, have been subsequently taken or wheeled into custody,  sometimes in the hundreds at such actions over the last half year or so.

Often they found themselves being led to waiting vans by apologetic Metropolitan Police officers, who have had  to endure being berated by shocked locals and by European and US tourists remarking, “I thought Britain had freedom of speech!”

This High Court  ruling will be especially welcome to the 700 of those arrested sho were slapped with felony charges  for “supporting a terrorist group.” A number of these people have been on a hunger strike, with  some reportedly coming close to death as their cases made their slow way up through the lower courts. As their cases look likely to be tossed out, most have ended their protest fast.

Over six months after the case went to the High Court, a  panel of three Judges  issued their ruling: The application of the Terrorism Act to Palestine Action, which they found  “does not advocate violence” or acts of violence against people, was being “illegally applied “to the group and to its protesting backers..

It was a sharp slap-down of the prime minister, who has been facing more than his share of disastrous cock-ups requiring a reversals of policy decisions, with many  now predicting his early ouster as PM.

The High Court’s dramatic ruling wasnt, for all that,  a perfect win for free speech and the right to protest in the UK This is because, despite the High  Court’s strong language in condemning the use of the Antiterrorism Law against Palestine Action, the judges, noting that there would likely be an appeal by the government to the Court of Appeal, the equivalent of the US Supreme Court, said they would leave the ban on the group ion place pending the appeal (though the Metro Police say they will no longer be arresting people for expressing support for Palestine Action or for calling out Israel genocide.,  Starmer and the Home Secretary Mahmood, have both stated they plan to appeal the ruling.

The interesting thing to me is that in Britain, its is the highest or penultimate court that acts boldly , or perhaps semi-boldly, in reversing decisions by  the national government, while lower courts “kick the quid” upstairs to a higher court. Meanwhile, here in the US it is higher courts, the Appellate Circuit Court judges and  the Supreme Court justices (who all have lifetime tenure and are likely at the pinnacle of their legal careers, not having to worry about being passed over for nomination to a higher judicial station), who are showing obscene fealty to wannabe tyrant Donald Trump, while hopes for holding the line on the destruction of liberty and democracy, lie with with the lower federal magistrates and judges, who also have lifetime tenure but have to worry that bold rulings that oppose Trump’s destructive  executive orders and his cabinet secretaries’ actions shredding  . .  the Bill of Rights, could end their hopes of advancing to higher court appointments.

Logically, the UK situation makes more sense, but here in the US hoping for courage, principle and a lack of careerist concern in our lower courts is all we’ve got.

There’s also another thought:   Perhaps it is the UK’s lack of  a written Constitution, and the US’s venerated Torah-like written document that explain the difference in their approach to considering lower court decisions and government actions. . British jurists on the High Court look at the precedents of British Common Law and generally have a whole pallet of them go select from in coming to a ruling, In contrast, US Supreme Court Justices— particularly the “strict constructionist” jurists, all six of them Republican nominees to the bench, who spend their time parsing the exact meaning of the words in the text of the Constitution and its later Amendments in reaching their decisions  from the bench, while the three liberals on the court, look at the context of when those words were written, and how circumstances may have changed. Consider for example the 15th Amendment  on the right to vote, which states, in full: “The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.”

“Strict constructionists, one would think, would be hard-pressed to find a way around that declarative sentence to find a way to justify keeping non-whites from voting. Yet in the intervening decades since tha amendment was approved, these justices  have found many ways, arguing for example that requiring proof of citizenship — a birth certificate, driver’s license or passport, for instance can be required since only citizens can vote.. But since many people have long ago lost their birth certificate, or, In the case of poor families and rural families where children were and sometimes still are born at home and their births remain unregistered, or some urban dwellers have never owned a car or needed a driver’s license, while many in the US have never traveled abroad  and thus have no passport,.Doesn’t     such a requirement constitute an “abridgment” of ther right to vote?

This article by Dave Lindorff appeared originally in ThisCantBeHappening! on its new Substack platform at https://thiscantbehappening.substack.com/. Please check out the new site and consider signing up for a cut-rate subscription that will be available until the end of the month.

Source: Declassified UK

The first time I really knew about Palestine Action was in 2019, several months before their official launch, when I followed their co-founder Richard Barnard and other activists into the Instro Precision factory in Kent.

After dozens of staff had been escorted out, the factory, a subsidiary of Israeli weapons manufacture Elbit Systems, was closed and the building was graffitied. A very polite policeman asked the activists when they were intending to leave, reassuring them that they would not be arrested. 

Sitting in front of the slogan “Elbit Murder Machine”, sprayed on the glass front of the building, Barnard asked how people could shut down a factory that was supposedly “law-abiding” and yet not be arrested. Around the same time, an Elbit factory in Oldham was closed by an occupation for two days, and again no one was charged.

In those days, activists facing trial could demand disclosure of weapons export licences and other information. The argument was that Elbit had to prove that the factory’s activities were lawful, before any disruption could be found to be  unlawful. Possibly as a result, Elbit regularly backed away from pressing charges, even in cases of serious damage and major disruption. Back then, Elbit never responded to requests for comment.

Palestine Action co-founder Richard Barnard in front of the Instro Precision factory in Kent in 2019 (Photo: Rikki Blue)

New legal rulings, like then-attorney general Suella Braverman’s referral of the Colston Statue case to the Court of Appeal in 2022, have made it much harder for climate or arms-trade activists to defend themselves in court. Acts of criminal damage on private property now have no human rights protections, and arguing that action is necessary to prevent greater crimes – what’s called lawful excuse – is now rarely available as a valid legal defence anymore. 

Co-founder Huda Ammori, who has just won her judicial review over Yvette Cooper’s proscription of Palestine Action, told me that in the six years of the group’s direct action activities, even among those actually taken to trial, around half have been found not guilty, or the jury failed to reach unanimous verdicts. So even though it is getting more and more difficult to offer any sort of lawful defence, wins are still possible as the recent trial of the Filton 6 has shown.

The Trial

In August 2024, six members of Palestine Action broke into Elbit’s UK headquarters in Filton, near Bristol. They were arrested and denied bail, which meant they would be kept in prison until the case went to trial in November 2025. 

Although initially held under counter-terrorism powers, they were only charged with lesser offences, ranging from criminal damage to more serious allegations of aggravated burglary, which potentially carries the penalty of life imprisonment.

I observed every day of the Filton trial, from jury selection on 17 November until verdicts on 4 February. The six defendants, all young people with no previous criminal convictions or cautions, and each with glowing character references, had already been imprisoned for 15 months. Since the proscription of Palestine Action (PA) last July, they reported even harsher treatment within the prison system. 

Claims of extra time confined to cells, withholding of mail, and reduced contact and visits eventually led to hunger strikes by several other Filton defendants who face further long remand times until their trials are heard.

On trial days, defendants were routinely woken at 5am, normally missing breakfast while security checks were done. They were loaded onto the prison vans operated by Serco, the company which runs prison escorts and custody services, and could spend hours on a circuitous route to the court. 

Although vegan prisoners might be given packed lunches by the prison, there is a Kafkaesque rule that prevents these being eaten at the court, and the Woolwich Crown Court kitchen often runs out or only has very limited and unhealthy vegan options.

At one point, the judge ordered that a banana be given to one of the defendants, Fatema Zainab Rajwani, before she gave evidence. It took 40 minutes to resolve the issue. Another day, the judge, Mr Justice Johnson, requested the same for another defendant, Zoe Rogers, when she was feeling faint while giving her evidence, but Serco staff said they had got into trouble before and they refused. 

It’s worth noting that Serco reportedly went into partnership with Elbit Systems recently to bid for a UK armed forces training contract worth £2 billion, although it was subsequently awarded to Raytheon.

Tired, hungry defendants find it hard to follow complex legal arguments and prosecution evidence, and then have little time for consultation with their lawyers. Day after day, prisoners arrived too late at court to have any facetime with their legal representatives. At the end of the day, Serco insisted on vans leaving as soon as possible, although again it could be hours before a prisoner returned to their cell and hopefully received some food before bed.

The Elbit-sized elephant in the room

Throughout the first weeks of trial, defence lawyers repeatedly highlighted these issues of access, but Mr Justice Johnson, while expressing sympathy, cited case management and an urgent need to make progress as taking precedent. 

The issue came to a head at the start of the defence evidence. While the jury were out, one of the defence barristers made a submission with reference to the case of R v Cordingley, in which a verdict was quashed on appeal on the basis it wasn’t a fair trial due to the behaviour of the trial judge. The barrister said that due process and the right to a fair trial must trump using every spare minute of court time. 

Moreover, lead defence counsel Rajiv Menon KC consistently sought to pursue lines of questioning which brought the issues of Elbit and Gaza into the courtroom, pushing against procedural constraints placed in his path. 

He revisited these issues in his closing speech to the jury, pointing out that while a judge is entitled to make rulings as to what areas of evidence are relevant and which are not, the result of that in this case had been that the jury heard very limited information about Elbit. No witness from Elbit took the stand, and the security guards themselves were employed by an outsourced company, Minerva Elite, founded by former UK Special Forces officers and personnel.

As Menon put it, “Elbit remains in the shadows, hidden and protected, but not, ladies and gentlemen, in the corridors of power, where no doubt they are welcomed, wined, and dined”.

The missing footage

Elbit was not even called to give evidence about their apparently unfit-for-purpose security surveillance system. Remember this is a high-tech company that provides sophisticated surveillance systems for border walls, but more than a year after the incident, it came to light during the trial that the map of CCTV cameras given to the defence team had several missing including those in areas of the factory where disputed incidents had taken place. 

Testimony from police witnesses, and in particular the CCTV recovery officer working for the police’s National Digital Exploitation Service, revealed for the first time various issues with camera footage, none of which had been in her original written statement. In the afternoon at the start of the trial’s third week when the jury was not in the court, Menon said that the defence had been kept in the dark about these issues, and only by pressing harder during the trial had they finally been given unredacted body-worn footage including the moment security guard Angelo Volante entered the factory wielding a whip. 

Another clip showing Volante moving towards someone while holding a sledgehammer triggered a wider request on 18 November, and the defence team were then drip fed around 300 pages of further evidence including email traffic between the police and an anonymised senior Elbit employee known as “Witness Alpha”. 

On 2 December, defence barristers were cross-examining a police officer, PC Sarah Grant. Menon asked Grant if Elbit had sole control and access to the CCTV system for two days. She replied yes. He then quoted an email she had sent to “Witness Alpha” in which she wrote: “There’s a huge opportunity for the defence counsel to use the gaps and jumps to their advantage”. Menon then questioned why among the correspondence revealed in the hundreds of pages of new evidence, police appeared to be “chatting with Israel’s largest arms manufacturer about what the defence counsel might do”.

Corporate and state media coverage

On 25 November, on what would have been the first day of the PA judicial review hearing, prosecution evidence was given to the press. This comprised video footage of the incident, carefully edited over a period of months by the police’s Forensic Audio and Visual Unit (FAVU), under guidance from Detective Constable Matthew Hammersley, a counter-terrorism police officer. 

The footage or stills were widely shared, alongside lurid headlines, only lightly sprinkled with the word “allegedly”, that described one of the defendants, Samuel Corner, “wearing a keffiyeh”, attacking a “screaming” police woman with a sledgehammer, and “breaking” her spine. Social media blew up, and it was a field day for the followers of pro-Israel accounts, who described the incident as attempted murder, proving that Palestine Action were terrorists, and calling for capital punishment. I sent a few screenshots of what I perceived to be clear examples of contempt of court to Mr Justice Johnson, and received a polite reply thanking me.

The media accounts quoted police and security guards, with no context or accurate reporting of the actual live evidence which included shifting accounts under cross-examination. 

One example was PC Aaron Buxton, a police officer at the incident. In his witness statement, Buxton said he saw one of the defendants, Jordan Devlin, holding a sledgehammer. When shown footage, he admitted Devlin was unarmed, but that Volante was the one with the sledgehammer. The media was not told about the alleged two serious assaults by Volante against Devlin, we hadn’t seen the newly disclosed footage of him entering the building with whip in hand, and we hadn’t heard that a disorientated Samuel Corner had just been sprayed in his eyes with PAVA liquid, a prohibited substance used under licence by police which causes extreme pain and leaves people disoriented and unable to see clearly for several minutes.

The verdict and potential retrial

Despite all the above, a jury made up of twelve randomly-selected local residents eligible to vote could not convict a single person accused of these serious crimes. On 4 February, a clear ‘not guilty’ verdict was returned for all six on the charge of aggravated burglary. The jury was not satisfied that the protesters entered the Elbit factory carrying items with the intention to cause injury. 

Three were also acquitted of violent disorder. The jury could not reach a verdict on the remaining three defendants on this particular charge, nor on any of the possible lesser offences they might have found Corner guilty of, not even on the basic charge of criminal damage.

Tomorrow the judge will hear submissions on whether and on what basis a retrial will go ahead. During the past week, press articles have suggested, without evidence, that the jury had been tampered with. 

Among the many high-profile public reactions to the verdict, Conservative party leader Kemi Badenoch expressed her disgust that someone could “break the spine” of a police officer and “get away with it”, shadow home secretary Chris Philp wrote to the Director of Public Prosecutions (DPP) demanding a retrial. The Police Federation made public their letter to the DPP, and former government advisor Lord Walney also expressed his deep disappointment at the verdict. 

Many other similar public observations led to a tsunami of outrage across social media, effectively damning the jury’s decision and dismissing the eight weeks of evidence they all sat through attentively. It is hard to see how such wide-scale commentary could not be prejudicial to a future retrial.

Samuel Corner remains on remand without bail in Belmarsh Prison despite no conviction, while the other five defendants have been released under very strict bail conditions. Their futures are all still on hold, while seemingly the state awaits the ‘right’ result.Email

Rikki Blue is a film-maker and journalist at Real Media. His documentary 'Palestine Action - a year of direct action' won IMA Best Video award in 2022.



We’re Better at Tearing Down Than Building Up

Source: The Anti-Authoritarian Playbook

Civil resistance movements around the world are remarkably good at one thing: disruption. We know how to mobilize millions, how to make authoritarian regimes ungovernable, and how to generate the kind of sustained crisis of governance that topples strongmen. What we are terrible at – catastrophically, repeatedly terrible at – is what comes next.

This is the gap where movements die. Egypt’s revolutionaries toppled Mubarak in 2011 but lacked an actionable plan for governance; the military filled the vacuum that lack created and now rules even more anti-democratically than before. Tunisia’s uprising produced the Arab Spring’s only democracy. But that lasted only a decade before a populist strongman exploited public frustration to seize power. Even South Africa’s celebrated transition, negotiated over years, and backed by Nelson Mandela, one of the twentieth century’s great moral leaders, produced political freedom but failed to institute economic reforms that could address the extreme economic inequality created under apartheid. Now the democracy it built is visibly eroding.

The pattern is consistent enough to be a law: Victory in the streets leads to chaos in governance leads to new forms of authoritarianism. The authoritarian falls, the power vacuum opens, and whoever has organizational capacity, weapons, money, or foreign backing fills it. If the vacuum isn’t filled by the movement, it will be filled by someone else.

For those of us organizing against authoritarian consolidation in the United States, this is not an academic problem. It is perhaps the most urgent strategic question we are not asking.

The Frameworks We’re Missing

Traditional progressive power analysis assumes that institutions are persuadable, that democracy is stable, that power is national, and that the state is capturable through electoral and legislative means. Authoritarian consolidation is precisely the process of destroying those conditions. You cannot “pressure” institutions that are being captured. You cannot win elections when democracy itself is the target. You cannot successfully organize nationally when power operates transnationally.

Getting to adequate strategy requires synthesizing across frameworks that most organizations treat as separate specialties: authoritarian consolidation theory, civil resistance scholarship, comparative democratization, network theory, and, critically, the practical question of post-collapse reconstruction. The movement needs strategists who can hold all of these simultaneously, asking: Which pillars of authoritarian support can we pull? How do we reach sustained participation at critical mass? And what do we build when the old order falls?

What South Africa and Tunisia Teach Us

The two most instructive modern cases – South Africa and Tunisia – succeeded in ways that should inspire us and failed in ways that should serve as warnings.

South Africa’s negotiated transition avoided civil war, produced one of the world’s most progressive constitutions, and established a Truth and Reconciliation Commission that became a global model. The process, including creating a Government of National Unity that brought former adversaries into shared governance, built genuine legitimacy. Mandela’s moral authority and strategic vision were irreplaceable.

But the ANC accepted an economic framework to secure white buy-in for political transition that protected the extreme economic inequality produced by the white supremacist apartheid government. Thus, property rights were protected; land was not redistributed. The result: political apartheid ended, but economic apartheid persisted. Today South Africa is one of the most unequal countries on earth, with unemployment above thirty percent, endemic corruption, and a democracy whose institutions survive but whose substance is hollowing out. The political house was built; the economic foundation for it was never laid.

Tunisia’s story is both more hopeful and more devastating. Its constitutional process was a masterwork of deliberative democracy resulting from three years of debate, civil society mediation through the Nobel Prize–winning National Dialogue Quartet, and genuine compromise between secular and Islamist factions. The resulting constitution was the most democratic in the Arab world.

However, Tunisia never addressed the economic crisis that had fueled the revolution in the first place. Unemployment remained brutal, especially for young people. IMF austerity undermined the new government’s capacity to deliver. The security sector was never reformed. By 2021, a populist law professor named Kais Saied had exploited public frustration to suspend parliament, dismiss the prime minister, and rule by decree. Tunisia is now authoritarian again. A decade of democratic institution-building has been erased.

The common lesson is stark: political reforms without reforms aimed at building greater economic democracy produces fragile democracies that either erode slowly or collapse suddenly. Both countries succeeded in building democratic forms. Both failed to transform the underlying power structures – economic, security, institutional – that had enabled authoritarianism in the first place.

The Hard Work Movements Avoid

The experts tell us that post-collapse democratic reconstruction requires planning across at least eight dimensions simultaneously: transitional governance, security sector transformation, constitutional process, transitional justice, economic restructuring, service delivery, democratic culture-building, and international engagement. Most movements address one or two of these, usually the most visible ones like elections and constitutions, while neglecting the rest.

Economic transformation is the most critical and most neglected. Movements focus on political transition because it is urgent and visible. They accept international economic orthodoxy because they fear capital flight. They lack economic expertise because their organizations were built for advocacy, not governance. And they pay for these failures when the public, having won political freedom but seeing no material improvement in their lives, concludes that democracy doesn’t work.

Security sector reform is the second most dangerous gap. Leave authoritarian police and military structures intact, and you leave in place the infrastructure for the next coup. South Africa’s unreformed police massacred striking miners at Marikana in 2012. Tunisia’s unreformed security apparatus enabled Saied’s power grab. The pattern is clear: security forces that serve authoritarians will not automatically serve democracy.

Transitional justice, meaning the question of how to balance accountability for past crimes against the stability of the new order, requires a sophistication that movements rarely develop before they need it. Prosecute too aggressively, and you risk a military coup. Prosecute too little, and you undermine the legitimacy of the new system. The evidence suggests a layered approach: prosecution of top leaders for the worst crimes, truth commissions for broader documentation, conditional amnesty for lower-level participants who cooperate, and reparations for victims. But this balance must be planned in advance, not improvised under pressure.

What This Means for the United States

If authoritarian consolidation in the United States is reversed, whether through electoral defeat, institutional resistance, mass mobilization, or some combination, the day after will present challenges that dwarf anything the pro-democracy movement is currently preparing for. Who governs during the transition? What do you do with federal agencies whose leadership was complicit? How do you address the tens of millions of Americans who supported authoritarianism? How do you reform a constitutional system that enabled it? How do you break the economic power of the oligarchs who funded it?

These are not hypothetical questions. They are the questions that were determinative of whether South Africa built a lasting democracy or a failing one, and whether Tunisia’s revolution produced freedom or a new dictatorship. And they are questions that the American pro-democracy movement, focused overwhelmingly on the immediate crisis of resistance, has barely begun to ask.

The work that must begin now, today, in parallel with resistance. It must include drafting constitutional reforms, planning economic transformation, building governance capacity, preparing frameworks for transitional justice, mapping which security forces will accept democratic transition and which will not, and creating strategies for including former authoritarians in a democratic system without compromising democratic principles.

This is unglamorous work. It lacks the moral clarity of protest and the urgency of crisis response. It requires expertise in governance, economics, law, and administration that most movement organizations were not built to develop. But it is the difference between Egypt and South Africa; between a revolution that produces a worse dictatorship and one that produces an imperfect but surviving democracy.

You can topple authoritarianism and still fail to build democracy. The movement that hasn’t planned for reconstruction will watch someone else fill the vacuum. Build the capacity to govern before you win. The work starts now.

Source: Richard Falk Blog

[Prefatory Note: This short essay previously published as an editorial in TransMediaService on February 16, 2026. The text below has been modified slightly]

As human beings we share deep emotional impulses to foretell the future, whether to foresee action on the basis of dread as to what the future will bring or to offer oneself and others reassurance that the future will deliver us from an ominous catastrophe or bring us the gifts of life that we most covet. From pre-modern times humans have sought this reassurance, resorting to magicians or religious seers and texts as necessary.

Diverse civilizations throughout history have thirsted after knowledge of their future as individuals or in relation to diverse collective identities as members of tribes, nations, states, religions, ethnicities, and gender identities, and more recently as a species. Fortune telling, astrology, and divining rods have all tried to foretell the future, without waiting for it to unfold. This kind of epistemological denialism has been somewhat disguised in modern sensibilities by recourse to experts, futurists, and forecasters who translate data into policy preferences and predictions that earns respect as if ‘knowledge.’ It is also us bound up with gambling and extreme sports, as if we can defy the fog clouding the future and subjugate the future to our appetites/

This passion to know the future has even penetrated sophisticated scientific circles. A prominent example is the Doomsday Clock administered for the since 1947 by the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists who select a group of scientists, weapons specialists, nuclear experts, and public figures to assess how close the world is to the midnight omega point of nuclear war. This year it was a major news item when the clock was moved four seconds closer to midnight, from 89 seconds to 85, a pseudo-precise way of anticipating the risks of an apocalyptic future for humanity. As with pre-scientific ways of relieving persons and communities of the anxieties and impatience associated with the core uncertainties of life as bearing upon prospects feared or desired. In modernity this demand for something as definite as possible about the future tends to be more comfortable relying on statistics, graphs, and data, still functioning as ways to cover up the unknowability of the future, and ultimately performs a disservice to humanity by encouraging fatalism, passivity, or sedation on one side and cynicism and complacency on the other.

Why act or struggle for the future if we know what lies ahead? Thereby arises ‘false consciousness’? This is what the philosopher, Alfred North Whitehead, famously warned us about calling it ‘the fallacy of misplaced concreteness.’ He considered this widespread fallacy induced false consciousness about the real. My purpose is more modest. It is to criticize the impact of negativity to the extent that it flourishes even among solutions-oriented peace activists in the tradition of Johan Galtung, and to energize progressive activism without the palliative of false consciousness. Unknowability about the future, starting with the precariousness of our own mortality, is never comfortable, yet it is real. It should not diminish efforts to reduce dangers or risks, but motivate us to adjust behavior on the basis of present knowledge. The Titanic would not have struck an iceberg if it had not ventured so close to Arctic waters. I would feel safer and more secure if denuclearizing initiatives were embraced by the nuclear weapons states such as by entering into a nuclear disarmament treaty process with a resolve to make it work. Even so, I would be overreaching by claiming 100% certainty that my line of advocacy was assured of being best course for humanity to take? Claiming to know the future is a mixture of dogmatism and hubris, leading in worst case scenarios to extremism of a destructive kind.

These dangers disfigure behavior in potentially destructive ways. Zionist ideology roots its justifications for apartheid, genocide, and ecocide in the biblical promise of ‘the promised land,’ taking no account of the wellbeing and attachments of the majority population in modern day Palestine. Israel’s first Prime Minister, David Ben Gurion, a confirmed secularist, opportunistically invoked this sacrosanct method of foretelling of the future by saying ‘let the Bible be our weapon,’ and further evaluating any choice by the simple question, ‘is it good for the Jews?’ Not only is the future assured and hence knowable, but its inevitability tends to relieve those so falsely enlightened of all moral constraints. This kind of manipulative futurism corrupts as exemplified by Christian Zionists who read the Book of Revelations that comes at the end of the New Testament as validating unconditional support of Israel joined with a mission to induce Jews to emigrate to Israel as the necessary prelude to the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. And then, when the initial forecast is fulfilled, Jews are to be given the choice of conversion or eternal damnation.

The most notable substitution of hope for knowledge when it comes to the future derives its strongest affirmation from the great late 18th century German philosopher of rationality, Immanuel Kant (1724-1805), who put articulated in solemn inspirational language that has cheered the best of activists for more than two centuries: “The moral arc of the universe is long but bends toward justice.” Martin Luther King, Jr, famously invoked this sentiment, although he tied it to struggle more than treated it as a foolproof prediction of the future. A reading of the present can be interpreted as vindicating Kant’s confidence in the future of humanity, as in his essay Perpetual PeaceA Philosophical Sketch (1795) or an expression of premature optimism or even as a selective blindness toward the human condition as it is currently being exhibited. The evidence is equivocal and premature, at best, and if I had to pronounce upon it, I would prefer to regard such a predisposition as an ultra-humanistic version of false consciousness about the human future.

From these perspectives, I want to encourage peace activism of all kinds, to accept the challenges associated with a refusal to indulge delusions about ‘knowable futures’ in favor of rooting their beliefs in the unknowability of the future, and to ground their activism in an ethos of humanistic struggle based on visions of desirable futures without depending on false claims about the certainties of doom or of a guarantee that their dedicated responses to such assaults on humanity as arise from warfare, climate change, poverty, racism, and imperialism will with certainty overcome such shortcomings in the human condition.

As a species we must abandon a worldview based on parts rather  than the whole. As long as we speak only or primarily from the present particularities of nationality, gender, ethnicity, civilizational, and religious identity we should awaken in the present that this is not a path to a peaceful, just, and resilient path to the future. With urgency we must learn to think and act as engaged citizens of the planetary ecosystemic whole, and more expansively of the cosmos as our unavoidable shared foundation of life and spirituality.

Overall, this involves an acceptance of unknowability when it comes to the future and to struggle on behalf of our beliefs in the present, with a posture of prudence toward perceived dangers and wrongdoing. Such a reorientation of outlook and engagement entails profound changes in education, citizenship, and notions of the public good.  I try to remain engaged with the help of my former mentor/teacher, Paul Tillich, and especially his book Courage to Be (1952), whose message counsels rootedness in the deep soil of present reality.l

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Richard Anderson Falk (born November 13, 1930) is an American professor emeritus of international law at Princeton University, and Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor's Chairman of the Board of Trustees. He is the author or coauthor of over 20 books and the editor or coeditor of another 20 volumes. In 2008, the United Nations Human Rights Council (UNHRC) appointed Falk to a six-year term as a United Nations Special Rapporteur on the situation of human rights in the Palestinian territories occupied since 1967. Since 2005 he chairs the Board of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation.