Human

One chimpanzee with a typewriter could pound out the script for “Primate” in an hour. Some pretty young things throw a pool party at an Oahu home and — yikes! — the family’s rabid pet chimp bashes in their skulls. That’s it, that’s the plot. Any tease that the movie could possibly be about anything more — a love triangle, a recently deceased mother, a vet’s puzzlement that Hawaii doesn’t even have rabies — is nothing but a banana peel tripping the audience into expecting a narrative.

I’m not foaming at the mouth over the death of cinema or what have you. Honestly, “Primate’s” kills are great. The problem is the dead space between them when we realize we’re bored sick.

The set-up is thus: Our heroine, Lucy (Johnny Sequoyah), who goes to school somewhere to study something, has flown home for an indefinite amount of time with her best friend, Kate (Victoria Wyant), and a classmate she loathes, vivacious sexpot Hannah (Jess Alexander), who doesn’t inform her host that she’s tagging along until they’re on the plane. Already, you’re wondering if this is a monkey’s take on mammalian behavior, but it’s just the actual screenwriters, Johannes Roberts and Ernest Riera (the former of whom also directs), clueing us in that bringing a brain to this humid adventure is as futile as packing a snowsuit. (They previously teamed up for the 2017 Mandy Moore shark movie “47 Meters Down.”)

Lucy’s father, Adam (Troy Kotsur of “CODA”), and her younger sister, Erin (Gia Hunter), have been rattling around their cliffside estate grieving for her mother, a primatologist who passed away from cancer the year before. They’re both lonely, but at least mom left behind her research chimpanzee, Ben (performed by Miguel Torres Umba), who uses a talking touch pad to communicate.

“Lucy back, Ben miss,” the chimp says, pressing a few keys. This is more or less how all the dialogue goes even when the humans are speaking — which, when it comes to a pair of frat guys that the girls picked up on the plane, is part of the joke. Brad and Drew (Charlie Mann and Tienne Simon) enter the house like two gorillas, belching and high-fiving, expecting to seduce the girls with verbal skills that stopped around preschool. “Me no hurt, OK?” Mann’s hilarious Brad says to Ben, grinning nervously and clapping his hands in an attempt to make friends. For a tender moment, you think these apes might be soulmates.

“Primate” is gleefully unevolved. The fatalities are gruesomely entertaining, the opening murder splattering the audience with such brutality that my theater howled in delight. In just two minutes, the movie had delivered everything it promised: a snorting monkey, a sucker in a flowered shirt, a shot of an ominous tire swing and a closeup of a peeled cheekbone.

If the pace had stayed that breakneck, my fellow schlock-lovers and I would have merrily pounded our chests. But at a hair’s breadth under an hour and a half, “Primate” is mostly draggy scenes of victims hiding in closets and trying not to scream as Ben roams the property acting like a hungover, steroidal toddler. Anything screechy sends him into a violent fit.

Umba, the movement specialist underneath the simian special effects, is convincing. But the movie treats his character like a generic slasher baddie checking off the standard tropes: the jump-scare surprise, the out-of-focus loom, the beat when the villain appears bested yet somehow staggers to his prehensile feet. Roberts doesn’t offer much empathy for the poor, diseased critter other than a pause when Ben momentarily ponders his reflection in a pool as Adrian Johnston’s eerie synth-piano score tinkles.

Let me give the film some credit: the performances are pretty good. Recent Oscar winner Kotsur has a casual nonchalance that makes you buy into his character right up until the moment he starts punching a monkey in the face. While Mann’s doomed meathead is only in the movie to raise the body count, the young actor brings a goofy, kinetic charisma to his too-few scenes — and, as a reward, Roberts grants him the longest and best death. Set in a romantic bedroom, it plays like a morbid joke about consent. (We’re meant to assume that at some time in this horny jock’s past, he’s done something to deserve it.)

Likewise, Alexander’s Hannah is the naughty girl who deserves to be punished for rudely moving in on Lucy’s crush, Nick (Benjamin Cheng). But she’s so magnetic that we root for her survival anyway. Just as Renée Zellweger and Matthew McConaughey somehow managed to have careers after starring in the fourth “Texas Chainsaw Massacre,” Alexander is a performer with promise: a screen presence with that extra twinkle.

The script has an anthropologist’s curiosity about the mating habits of Homo sapiens collegiate. Alas, humanity appears to be a species in decline. Faced with an angry monkey, these kids can’t think of much else to do other than run around hunting for their smartphones. An overreliance on tools weakens our civilization (and saps the film’s dramatic thrills). When Ben smashes a television set, perhaps Roberts is even making some sort of societal point.

Chimpanzees and humans share 98.4% of the same DNA and if you want to double-check that stat, so much blood gets smeared around this house that you can easily test a sample. Presumably, the character of Lucy was given her name as a nod to our earliest known ancestor, a 3.2-million-year-old Australopithecus afarensis who stood about the same height as Ben. Our closest relative, the bonobo, shares 98.7% of our genes and has been known to dispatch each other by bursting a male’s testicles, a nature fact that Roberts must be saving for the sequel.

Mystifyingly, “Primate” blames Ben’s terrible temper on rabies, not the more interesting causes of chimpanzee aggression like depression, psychological confusion and over-medication. Neither does it dig deep into the emotional horror of an owner realizing their best buddy is capable of ripping off a human face — let alone the guilt and agony of failing to stop an attack. When a Connecticut woman was forced to stab her beloved pet after he maimed a female friend, she lamented that sticking the blade in him “was like putting one in myself.” (She later adopted a replacement chimp.)

But it’s silly to expect actual social science from a movie that expands rabies’ ancient name — hydrophobia, or a fear of water — into the nonsensical idea that the only safe hideout from Ben is the swimming pool. That said, in case anyone from the Department of Health and Human Services watches “Primate” on an airplane, I feel compelled to mention that the rabies vaccine is 100% effective. The last thing we need is a government decree that every American should surround their house with a moat.

The contemplative cinema of Béla Tarr was as excruciatingly beautiful as it was brazenly original, often conjuring comparison to the work of a master painter.

His stark black-and-white imagery in assiduously long takes with creeping camera movements — hallmarks of his filmmaking — demanded that the viewer pause to look, to see, as one might in regarding a Picasso or a Bruegel.

Tarr’s revolution in form, however, cannot be separated from the radical humanity of his filmmaking. In a concentrated collection of 10 features over less than four decades, his gaze was fixed on the resolute dignity of his marginalized and downtrodden characters, which elevated his work beyond the realm of cinephile contemplation.

With the death of the Hungarian master on Tuesday at age 70, that enduring humanity makes his work as essential as ever.

“I despise stories,” Tarr once explained to an interviewer, “as they mislead people into believing that something has happened. In fact, nothing really happens as we flee from one condition to another. … There are only states of being — all stories have become obsolete and cliched, and have resolved themselves. All that remains is time.”

His films typically did not concern themselves with the plot of individual lives, which in reality are revealed in retrospect, if at all. They focused instead on human experience as it unfolds, moment by uncertain moment, capturing everyday foibles, errors and foolishness in the face of quotidian ruthlessness. As in Samuel Beckett’s tragicomic theater and novels, Tarr’s movies, by turns funny and heartbreaking, dignify human struggle with an uncommon tenacity of vision and empathy.

Some of Tarr’s most memorable scenes feature landscapes, often bleak and despairing settings of decaying Hungarian towns, punctuated with close-ups of characters’ faces. Asked by film historian David Bordwell about this juxtaposition, Tarr replied: “But the face is the landscape.”

Tarr arrived in the late 1970s declaring his intention to “kick in the door” of contemporary cinema. He did so, more than once.

He announced himself with a trilogy of domestic dramas. “Family Nest,” “The Outsider” and “The Prefab People” focused on couples and individuals trapped by commonplace struggles and social constraints, a thematic affront to late-communist Hungary. Featuring handheld camerawork and frequent close-ups, these early works evoke the quasi-improvisational style of John Cassavetes smothered in claustrophobia.

Tarr followed with a TV adaptation of “Macbeth” (1982), filmed in two shots, the second lasting more than an hour. After a brief experimentation two years later with a wild palette of color in “Almanac of Fall,” he returned to his discoveries in “Macbeth,” a stylistic transformation that would define the rest of his career.

“Damnation” (1988) opens with an extended shot of a system of towers and cables transporting vast buckets of mining materials across a desolate plain. A harsh grinding of the elevated cable system is the only sound. (In Tarr films, sound features as evocatively as image.) Slowly the camera pulls back to reveal an interior window, and then the back of a man’s head in silhouette, as our protagonist watches the monotonous procession.

The audience experiences the scene of agonizing beauty as the man does. We remain with him throughout the movie, as we follow his futile pursuit of a married cabaret singer with whom he is irrevocably in love. The story does not unfold as a typical narrative, but in a series of scenes that feel distinct yet unified, like a collection of short stories.

Tarr worked with a common team of filmmakers in nearly all his films, including his longtime partner and editor, Ágnes Hranitzky, cinematographer Fred Kelemen, composer Mihály Víg and a core group of actors.

“Damnation” marked Tarr’s first collaboration with his friend László Krasznahorkai, the Hungarian novelist and 2025 Nobel Prize in Literature winner. The pairing of literary and filmmaking masters, which spanned five features over a quarter of a century, recalled that of Graham Greene and Carol Reed, but nothing in movie history quite compares.

Tarr’s two greatest works, “Sátántangó” (1994) and “Werckmeister Harmonies” (2000), were based on Krasznahorkai‘s novels (the latter derived from his “The Melancholy of Resistance”). The books are cornerstones of Krasznahorkai’s Nobel-winning oeuvre, and the films are two of the defining movies of their era and established Tarr as a giant of cinema.

“Sátántangó” is an epic equivalent in running time to some four feature films, which Susan Sontag called “devastating, enthralling for every minute of its [more than] seven hours.” It often appears on critics’ lists among the greatest films ever made.

The movie follows a group of petty cheats, liars and drunks who are duped by nefarious opportunists who visit their crumbling town. Tarr employs the extended take to even greater lengths, creating an exquisite manipulation of our sense of time, and some of the most memorable scenes in modern filmmaking.

In “Werckmeister Harmonies,” another opportunist visits another desperate town, this time accompanying a traveling exhibit of a preserved whale. The depictions of mob violence are chilling evocations of the darkest moments of the 20th century. The culminating episode, as the mob smashes and ransacks a hospital and terrorizes its patients, ultimately reveals a frail elderly man, standing naked and alone in an empty bathtub as the club-wielding assailants approach. His appearance, stopping them in their tracks, is one of the most heartrending moments of any movie.

Tarr followed with “The Man From London,” which he and Krasznahorkai adapted from a novel by Georges Simenon, about a seaside railway signalman who confronts a moral quandary involving a murder mystery.

In 2012 came “The Turin Horse,” in which director and novelist reimagined the story of the whipping of a horse in the Italian city that was said to have triggered philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche’s mental breakdown. The movie follows the unfortunate horse as it is led away by its owner to his rural home he shares with his daughter. Their repetitive routines and the young woman’s daily burdens are reminiscent of Chantal Akerman’s classic “Jeanne Dielman.”

After the release of the film, among his most acclaimed, Tarr stunned the film world by announcing it would be his last feature. He was just 56 at the time.

He went on to open an international film school in Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina, known as film.factory, which continued until 2017, and he produced a number of movies.

Tarr was long outspoken in denouncing authoritarian governments, whether Hungary’s old communist model or the current populist nationalism of Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, France’s Marine Le Pen and President Trump. He supported students at the University of Theatre and Film Arts in Budapest — his former school — who had occupied their campus in 2020 in protest of Orbán’s policies.

In 2019, Tarr embarked on one more film-related project, “Missing People,” an exhibition at the annual Vienna Festival. The film portion of the program, according to reports about the event, featured the faces of some 270 homeless people living in the Austrian capital.

The project appeared a few months after Orbán’s adoption of a Hungarian law that essentially criminalized homelessness. A final act in the radical humanity that was the art of Béla Tarr.

Four members of the Palestine Action group, which has been proscribed as a terrorist organisation in the United Kingdom, are continuing with their hunger strikes in different prisons around the country.

Four other Palestine Action members have ended their hunger strikes – some after being hospitalised.

Here is what we know about the four remaining hunger strikers.

Why are the Palestine Action protesters on hunger strike?

Imprisoned Palestine Action members have been on hunger strikes in prisons around the UK for more than 50 days.

The Palestine Action members are being held on remand in prisons over their alleged involvement in break-ins at the UK subsidiary of Elbit Systems in Filton near Bristol, where equipment was reportedly damaged, and at a Royal Air Force base in Oxfordshire, where two military aircraft were sprayed with red paint.

The prisoners deny the charges against them, which include burglary and violent disorder.

Of the four still on hunger strikes, three were imprisoned in November 2024 for their alleged involvement in break-ins at the UK subsidiary of Israeli weapons group Elbit Systems in Filton near Bristol, where equipment was reportedly damaged. One has been in prison since July 2025 for alleged involvement in damage at a Royal Air Force base in Oxfordshire, where two military aircraft were sprayed with red paint.

Palestine Action, a protest group launched in July 2020, describes itself as a movement “committed to ending global participation in Israel’s genocidal and apartheid regime”.

The UK parliament voted in favour of proscribing the group on July 2, 2025, classifying it as a “terrorist” organisation and bringing it into the same category as armed groups like al-Qaeda and ISIL (ISIS). Critics decried the move, arguing that while members of the group have caused damage to property, they have not committed acts of violence that amount to terrorism.

More than 1,600 arrests linked to support for Palestine Action were made in the three months following the ban’s introduction. The ban has been challenged in court.

The hunger strikers have five key demands: immediate bail, the right to a fair trial – which they say includes the release of documents related to “the ongoing witch-hunt of activists and campaigners” – ending censorship of their communications, “de-proscribing” Palestine Action and shutting down Elbit Systems, which operates several UK factories.

“The UK government has forced their bodies to a breaking point,” pro-Palestine activist Audrey Corno told Al Jazeera Mubasher.

“A promise to the government is that the prisoners’ resistance and the people’s resistance against the genocide [in Gaza], Israel’s occupation and apartheid of genocide will not stop until it ends.”

Who are the remaining hunger strikers?

Heba Muraisi, Kamran Ahmed, Teuta Hoxha and Lewie Chiaramello are the four people, aged between 20 and 31, who are continuing their hunger strikes.

Heba Muraisi

Muraisi, 31, was on day 60 of her hunger strike on Thursday. She is being held in HMP [His Majesty’s Prison] New Hall in Wakefield, a prison in West Yorkshire about 180 miles (290km) north of London.

Muraisi was arrested in November 2024 for her alleged role in an August 2024 raid on the Israel-based Elbit Systems in Bristol, which is believed to have cost the Israeli weapons manufacturer more than $1.34m.

According to social media posts, Muraisi is of Yemeni origin. However, Al Jazeera could not independently verify this.

She was transferred to the West Yorkshire prison in October 2025 from HMP Bronzefield in Surrey, about 18 miles from the UK capital.

“Heba is demanding to be transferred back to HMP Bronzefield. She was transferred very suddenly, very far away from her entire support network and family, which is based in London. She’s been experiencing consistent medical negligence. Her body is, as you’d imagine, increasingly weak,” Corno said.

In a statement shared with Al Jazeera on December 29, Muraisi said: “I’ve been force-fed repression and I’m stuffed with rage and that’s why I’m doing what I’m doing now. I am bringing acute awareness to the unjust application of UK laws by our Government and I’m glad that people can now see this after a year of imprisonment and human rights violations. Keep going, keep fighting.”

Muraisi’s trial is set for June 2026, according to the protest group Prisoners For Palestine.

Kamran Ahmed

Ahmed, 28, was also arrested in November 2024 and is being held in HMP Pentonville in north London. He was also arrested for his alleged involvement in the raid on Elbit Systems in Bristol. Ahmed has been on a hunger strike for more than 50 days.

According to a report by Middle East Eye, Ahmed is a mechanic.

Ahmed was hospitalised for a third time on December 20 after he refused food, his sister, Shahmina Alam, told Al Jazeera.

“We know that he’s rapidly been losing weight in the last few days, losing up to half a kilogramme [1.1lbs] a day,” Alam told Al Jazeera in late December.

Ahmed, who is 180cm (5′11′), entered prison at a healthy 74kg (163lbs), but his last recorded weight was 60kg (132lbs).

“Kamran has been hospitalised for the fourth time recently,” Corno said.

Teuta Hoxha

Hoxha, 29, was on day 54 of her hunger strike on Thursday. She is being held at HMP Peterborough. She was also arrested in November 2024 on allegations of involvement in the Elbit Systems raid.

According to Prisoners for Palestine, Hoxha was moved from HMP Bronzefield on the day UK parliamentarians voted to proscribe Palestine Action – July 2, 2025.

Corno told Al Jazeera that she is in regular contact with Hoxha and that she has been having heart palpitations. “She’s not been able to sleep through the night for weeks on end. I can see her memory start to deteriorate.”

In a statement published on the Prisoners for Palestine website, Hoxha said: “This is a witch hunt, not a fair fight, and that behind the arrests of dissenting voices under counterterrorism powers, holding us on remand without trial for nearly two years and targeting protesters who condemn Palestinian suffering, is the palpably desperate attempt to force us all under the imperial boot of submission.”

Lewie Chiaramello

Chiaramello, 22, has type 1 diabetes and hence, he has been fasting every other day. He is on day 28 of his hunger strike.

He has been held in HMP Bristol since July 2025 in connection with an incident at RAF Brize Norton, according to Prisoners for Palestine, and faces charges of conspiring to enter a restricted area for purposes harmful to the UK’s safety and interests, as well as conspiracy to commit criminal damage. His trial is set for January 18, 2027.

On June 20, a group of Palestine Action activists broke into RAF Brize Norton, the largest Royal Air Force base in Oxfordshire, and sprayed two military planes with red paint, causing an estimated $9.4m worth of damage.

“He’s been having to manage his insulin intake on his own with no medical supervision,” Corno said.

Who else has been on a hunger strike?

Four other imprisoned Palestine Action activists have ended their hunger strikes, mostly after being hospitalised.

This includes Qesser Zuhrah, 20 and Amu Gib, 30, who are being held at Bronzefield prison in Surrey. The pair began their hunger strikes on November 2 to coincide with the Balfour declaration of 1917, when Britain pledged to establish a national home for the Jewish people in Palestine.

Umar Khalid, 22, who has muscular dystrophy, ended his hunger strike after 13 days. Jon Cink ended his hunger strike after 41 days when he was hospitalised. Qesser Zuhrah ended her hunger strike after 48 days and was hospitalised. Amy Gib was also hospitalised.

Israel says it will suspend more than two dozen humanitarian organisations, including Doctors Without Borders, for failing to meet its new rules for aid groups working in the war-ravaged Gaza Strip.

Organisations facing bans starting on Thursday didn’t meet new requirements for sharing information on their staffs, funding and operations, Israeli authorities said.

Other major organisations affected include the Norwegian Refugee Council, CARE International, the International Rescue Committee and divisions of major charities such as Oxfam and Caritas.

Israel accused Doctors Without Borders, known by its French acronym MSF, of failing to clarify the roles of some staff members, alleging they cooperated with Hamas.

“The message is clear: Humanitarian assistance is welcome. The exploitation of humanitarian frameworks for terrorism is not,” Diaspora Affairs Minister Amichai Chikli said.

MSF – one of the largest medical groups operating in Gaza, where the health sector has been targeted and largely destroyed – said Israel’s decision will have a catastrophic impact on its work in the enclave, where it supports about 20 percent of the hospital beds and one-third of births. The organisation also denied Israel’s accusations about its staff.

“MSF would never knowingly employ people engaging in military activity,” it said.

International organisations said Israel’s rules are arbitrary. Israel said 37 groups working in Gaza didn’t have their permits renewed.

‘Appalling conditions’

Aid organisations help with a variety of social services, including food distribution, healthcare, mental health and disability services, and education.

Amjad Shawa from the Palestine NGOs Network said the decision by Israel is part of its ongoing effort  “to deepen the humanitarian catastrophe” in Gaza.

“The limitations on the humanitarian operations in Gaza are in order to continue their project to push out the Palestinians, deport Gaza. This is one of the things Israel continues doing,” Shawa told Al Jazeera.

Israel’s move comes as at least 10 countries expressed “serious concerns” about a “renewed deterioration of the humanitarian situation” in Gaza, describing it as “catastrophic”.

“As winter draws in civilians in Gaza are facing appalling conditions with heavy rainfall and temperatures dropping,” Britain, Canada, Denmark, Finland, France, Iceland, Japan, Norway, Sweden and Switzerland said in a joint statement.

“1.3 million people still require urgent shelter support. More than half of health facilities are only partially functional and face shortages of essential medical equipment and supplies. The total collapse of sanitation infrastructure has left 740,000 people vulnerable to toxic flooding.”

The countries urged Israel to ensure international NGOs can operate in Gaza in a “sustained and predictable” way and called for the opening of land crossings to boost the flow of humanitarian aid.

Israel’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs called the joint statement “false but unsurprising” and “part of a recurring pattern of detached criticism and one-sided demands on Israel while deliberately ignoring the essential requirement ‌of disarming Hamas”.

‘Needs in Gaza are enormous’

Four months ago, more than 100 aid groups accused Israel of obstructing life-saving aid from entering Gaza and called on it to end its “weaponisation of aid” as it refused to allow aid trucks to enter the battered Gaza Strip.

More than 71,000 Palestinians have been killed since Israel launched its genocidal war on Gaza in October 2023. Hundreds have died from severe malnutrition and thousands more from preventable diseases because of a lack of medical supplies.

Israel claims it’s upholding the aid commitments laid out in the latest ceasefire, which took effect on October 10, but humanitarian groups dispute Israel’s numbers and say a lot more aid is desperately needed in the devastated enclave of more than two million Palestinians.

Israel changed its registration process for aid groups in March, which included a requirement to submit a list of staff, including Palestinians in Gaza.

Some aid groups said they didn’t submit a list of Palestinian staff for fear those employees would be targeted by Israel.

“It comes from a legal and safety perspective. In Gaza, we saw hundreds of aid workers get killed,” said Shaina Low, communications adviser for the Norwegian Refugee Council.

Desperately needed lifelines

The decision not to renew aid groups’ licences means their offices in Israel and occupied East Jerusalem will close and organisations won’t be able to send international staff or aid into Gaza.

“Despite the ceasefire, the needs in Gaza are enormous, and yet we and dozens of other organisations are and will continue to be blocked from bringing in essential lifesaving assistance,” Low said. “Not being able to send staff into Gaza means all of the workload falls on our exhausted local staff.”

Israel’s decision means the aid groups will have their licences revoked on Thursday and, if they are located in Israel, they will need to leave by March 1, according to the ministry.

This isn’t the first time Israel has tried to crack down on international humanitarian organisations. Throughout the war, it accused the United Nations agency for Palestinian refugees, UNRWA, of being infiltrated by Hamas and Hamas of using UNRWA’s facilities and taking its aid. The UN has denied that.

In October, the International Court of Justice issued an advisory opinion saying Israel must support UN relief efforts in Gaza, including those conducted by UNRWA.

The court found Israel’s allegations against UNRWA – including that it was complicit in the Hamas-led October 7, 2023, attacks on Israel – were unsubstantiated.

The court also said Israel, as the occupying power, must ensure the “basic needs” of the Palestinian population of Gaza are met, “including the supplies essential for survival”, such as food, water, shelter, fuel and medicine.

A number of countries halted funding for UNRWA after Israel’s accusations, jeopardising one of Gaza’s most desperately needed lifelines.

The intensity of the current backlash against Alaa Abdelfattah in Britain is striking – not because it reflects a renewed concern for justice, but because it exposes how selectively outrage is deployed.

Alaa, an Egyptian-British writer and activist, spent more than a decade in and out of Egyptian prisons following the 2011 uprising that toppled President Hosni Mubarak. His detention was marked by prolonged hunger strikes, denial of basic rights and treatment that human rights organisations described as cruel and degrading. He was released on September 23 after a years-long campaign by his mother, sister and close friends. A travel ban on him was lifted only this month, and he was able to join his family in the UK on December 26.

Alaa left behind a decade of repression in Cairo only to be welcomed in London with public attacks and a call for the revocation of his British citizenship and his deportation. Public hostility was whipped up by the uncovering of a social media post from 2010 in which Alaa said he considered “killing any colonialists … heroic”, including Zionists.

The tweet has been widely condemned, referred to the counter-terrorism police for review, and seized upon by politicians calling for punitive measures.

The speed and intensity of this reaction stand in stark contrast to the silence surrounding far more consequential statements and actions that the UK not only tolerates but actively enables.

This is what selective outrage looks like.

While Alaa’s words are dissected and framed as a moral emergency, the UK continues to host and collaborate with senior Israeli officials who have been accused of participating in and inciting genocide.

In July, for example, Israel’s air force chief Tomer Bar – the man who has overseen the carpet bombing of Gaza, destruction of hospitals, schools and homes and the extermination of entire families – was granted special legal immunity to visit the UK. Reporting by Declassified UK showed that this immunity shielded him from arrest for war crimes while on British soil.

There has been no comparable outcry over this.

Israeli President Isaac Herzog was also able to pay a visit to the UK in September and hold high-level meetings. This is the same man who, at the start of the genocide, suggested that the “entire [Palestinian] nation” is responsible and that “This rhetoric about civilians not aware, not involved – it’s not true.” This and other statements by Herzog have been collected in a large database that currently supports the genocide case against Israel at the International Court of Justice (ICJ).

Yet, despite being accused of incitement to genocide, the Israeli president entered the UK without a problem and was welcomed by Prime Minister Keir Starmer. Those quarters concerned about Alaa’s tweet displayed no outrage over the visit of a potential war criminal.

They have also been silent about British citizens who have travelled to serve in the Israeli military, including during Israel’s offensives in Gaza and the ongoing genocide. These operations, documented by the United Nations, Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, have resulted in tens of thousands of civilian deaths, the destruction of hospitals and universities, and the devastation of entire neighbourhoods.

Despite extensive documentation of war crimes and crimes against humanity, and the ICJ’s warning of a serious risk of genocide, there has been no systematic investigation into whether British nationals may have been involved in violations of international law.

Again, there is little sustained outrage.

At the same time, the UK continues to license arms exports to Israel and to engage in political, military and intelligence cooperation. These policies have persisted even as international bodies have warned of grave humanitarian consequences and potential violations of international law. All of this unfolds with relatively little political cost.

And yet it is a decade-old tweet – not mass killing, not siege, not the destruction of civilian life on a vast scale, not incitement to genocide – that triggers political panic in the UK.

This contrast is not incidental. It reveals a hierarchy of outrage in which dissenting voices are policed and punished, and state violence is not, and in which public hostility is directed downward at individuals rather than upward at power. Alaa’s case shows how moral language is deployed selectively – not to restrain impunity, but to manage discomfort.

This asymmetry corrodes the credibility of the principles the UK claims to uphold. When human rights are defended selectively, they become tools of convenience rather than universal norms. When outrage is loud but inconsistent, it becomes performative. And when accountability is withheld from powerful allies, impunity hardens into policy.

Those who defend this approach often invoke “quiet diplomacy”, arguing that restraint is more effective than confrontation. Yet there is little evidence that silence has delivered accountability – either for Alaa or for civilians subjected to mass violence in Gaza. In both cases, discretion has functioned less as a strategy than as permission.

The UK has the tools to act differently: Suspending arms exports, investigating potential crimes by its nationals, conditioning cooperation on respect for international law, restricting visits by officials implicated in serious abuses. That these tools remain largely unused is itself revealing.

Until that changes, outrage will remain selective, accountability conditional, and impunity intact – widening the gap between the values the UK professes and the violence it continues to enable.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.

Egyptian-British writer Alaa Abd El-Fattah, who faced years of imprisonment in Egypt, ‘unequivocally’ apologises for the tweets.

Alaa Abd El-Fattah, an Egyptian-British human rights campaigner, has “unequivocally” apologised after right-wing leaders in the United Kingdom dug up decade-old tweets to demand he be stripped of British citizenship.

In a lengthy apology posted online, the writer and blogger – who returned to Britain this week after 12 years of imprisonment in Egypt – said the tweets were “shocking and hurtful”, but added that some had been “completely twisted”.

Conservative Party and far-right Reform UK leaders, along with right-wing commentators, took to sympathetic outlets and social media to demand that Abd El-Fattah be stripped of citizenship for the posts dating back to 2010, which included alleged references to killing Zionists and police officers.

The tweets were “expressions of a young man’s anger and frustrations in a time of regional crises”, including the wars on Iraq and Gaza, and a pervasive culture of “online insult battles”, Abd El-Fattah wrote.

Still, “I should have known better”, he said.

“I am shaken that, just as I am being reunited with my family for the first time in 12 years, several historic tweets of mine have been republished and used to question and attack my integrity and values, escalating to calls for the revocation of my citizenship,” he added.

Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch wrote in a Daily Mail op-ed that Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood should consider how Abd El-Fattah “can be removed from Britain” and added that she does “not want people who hate Britain coming to our country”.

Nigel Farage, the Reform UK leader, posted a letter he wrote to Mahmood on X and took a swipe at Badenoch for being part of the 2021 administration, then under Conservative Prime Minister Boris Johnson, that granted Abd El-Fattah citizenship.

Human rights activists and supporters of Abd El-Fattah dismissed the efforts as a smear campaign and directed followers to his apology.

Jewish academic and writer Naomi Klein wrote on social media that right-wingers were “playing politics with his hard-won freedom”, while Mai El-Sadany, executive director of the Washington, DC-based Tahrir Institute for Middle East Policy, said the citizenship revocation campaign was “coordinated” to “impugn his reputation and harm him”.

British law allows the home secretary to revoke citizenship if doing so is considered “conducive to the public good”, a policy that critics say is disproportionately wielded against British Muslims.

In a 2022 report, the Institute on Statelessness and Inclusion estimated that at least 175 people had been stripped of British citizenship since 2006, including more than 100 in 2017 – prompting the group to deem the UK “a global leader in the race to the bottom” for revocations.

Part of British conservatives’ ire appeared to stem from the reaction of British Prime Minister Keir Starmer to Abd El-Fattah’s release. Earlier this week, he said the case had been a “top priority” and added that he was “delighted” by Abd El-Fattah’s return, a sentiment echoed by Foreign Secretary Yvette Cooper.

Abd El-Fattah had been jailed during Egypt’s mass protests in 2011 that ousted then-leader Hosni Mubarak. He went on to become a top critic of Egyptian President Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, who took power in a military coup two years later.

The writer received a 15-year prison sentence in 2014 on charges of spreading fake news. He was briefly released in 2019 before receiving another five-year sentence.

He received a pardon in September, along with five other prisoners, after repeated international calls to release him.

Families celebrate Christmas releases while calling for full freedom of detainees.

Authorities in Venezuela have released at least 60 people arrested during protests against President Nicolas Maduro’s re-election, according to a human rights advocacy group, though campaigners say hundreds remain behind bars.

The releases began early on Thursday, over Christmas, according to the Committee for the Freedom of Political Prisoners, a group of rights activists and relatives of detainees arrested during unrest that followed July’s presidential election.

“We celebrate the release of more than 60 Venezuelans, who should never have been arbitrarily detained,” committee head Andreina Baduel told the AFP news agency.

“Although they are not entirely free, we will continue working for their full freedom and that of all political prisoners.”

Maduro secured a third term in office in the July 2024 vote, a result rejected by parts of the opposition amid allegations of fraud. The disputed outcome triggered weeks of demonstrations, during which authorities arrested about 2,400 people. Nearly 2,000 have since been released, according to rights groups.

Despite the latest releases, Venezuela still holds at least 902 political prisoners, according to Foro Penal, an NGO that monitors detentions.

Relatives said many of those freed had been held at Tocoron prison, a maximum-security facility in Aragua state, roughly 134km (83 miles) from the capital Caracas. Officials have not publicly clarified the conditions under which detainees were released.

“We must remember that there are more than 1,000 families with political prisoners,” Baduel said. Her father, Raul Isaias Baduel, a former defence minister and once an ally of the late president, Hugo Chavez, died in custody in 2021.

The way the story is often told is that Western countries gifted human rights to the world and are the sole guardians of it. It may come as a surprise for some, then, that the international legal framework for prohibiting racial discrimination largely owes its existence to the efforts of states from the Global South.

In 1963, in the midst of the decolonisation wave, a group of nine newly independent African states presented a resolution to the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) calling for the drafting of an international treaty on the elimination of racial discrimination. As the representative from Senegal observed: “Racial discrimination was still the rule in African colonial territories and in South Africa, and was not unknown in other parts of the world … The time had come to bring all States into that struggle.”

The groundbreaking International Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination (ICERD) was unanimously adopted by the UNGA two years later. The convention rejected any doctrine of superiority based on racial differentiation as “scientifically false, morally condemnable and socially unjust”.

Today, as we mark 60 years since its adoption, millions of people around the world continue to face racial discrimination – whether in policing, migration policies or exploitative labour conditions.

In Brazil, Amnesty International documented how a deadly police operation in Rio de Janeiro’s favelas this October resulted in the massacre by security forces of more than 100 people, most of them Afro-Brazilians and living in poverty.

In Tunisia, we have seen how authorities have for the past three years used migration policies to carry out racially targeted arrests and detentions and mass expulsions of Black refugees and asylum seekers.

Meanwhile, in Saudi Arabia, Kenyan female domestic workers face racism and exploitation from their employers, enduring gruelling and abusive working conditions.

In the United States, diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) initiatives aimed at tackling systemic racism have been eliminated across federal agencies. Raids by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) targeting migrants and refugees are a horrifying feature of President Donald Trump’s mass deportation and detention agenda, rooted in white supremacist narratives.

Migrants held in detention centres have been subjected to torture and a pattern of deliberate neglect designed to dehumanise and punish.

Elsewhere, Amnesty International has documented how new digital technologies are automating and entrenching racism, while social media offers inadequately moderated forums for racist and xenophobic content. For example, our investigation into the United Kingdom’s Southport racist riots found that X’s design and policy choices created fertile ground for the inflammatory, racist narratives that resulted in the violent targeting of Muslims and migrants.

Even human rights defenders from the Global South face racial discrimination when they have to apply for visas to Global North countries in order to attend meetings where key decisions are made on human rights.

All these instances of systemic racism have their roots in the legacies of European colonial domination and the racist ideologies on which they were built. This era, which spanned nearly four centuries and extended across six continents, saw atrocities that had historical consequences – from the erasure of Indigenous populations to the transatlantic slave trade.

The revival of anti-right movements globally has led to a resurgence of racist and xenophobic rhetoric, a scapegoating of migrants and refugees, and a retrenchment in anti-discrimination measures and protections.

At the same time, Western states have been all too willing to dismantle international law and institutions to legitimise Israel’s genocide against Palestinians in Gaza and shield Israeli authorities from justice and accountability.

Just as the creation of the ICERD was driven by African states 60 years ago, Global South countries continue to be at the forefront of the fight against racial oppression, injustice and inequality. South Africa notably brought the case against Israel at the International Court of Justice and cofounded The Hague Group – a coalition of eight Global South states organising to hold Israel accountable for genocide.

On the reparations front, it is Caribbean and African states, alongside Indigenous peoples, Africans and people of African descent, that are leading the pursuit of justice. The Caribbean Community (CARICOM) has been intensifying pressure on European governments to reckon with their colonial past, including during a recent visit to the United Kingdom by the CARICOM Reparations Commission.

As the African Union announced 2026-36 the Decade of Reparations last month, African leaders gathered in Algiers for the International Conference on the Crimes of Colonialism, at which they consolidated demands for the codification of colonialism as a crime under international law.

But this is not enough. States still need to confront racism as a structural and systemic issue, and stop pretending slavery and colonialism are a thing of the past with no impact on our present.

Across the world, people are resisting. In Brazil, last month, hundreds of thousands of Afro-Brazilian women led the March of Black Women for Reparations and Wellbeing against racist and gendered historic violence. In the US, people fought back against the wave of federal immigration raids this year, with thousands taking to the streets in Los Angeles to protest and residents of Chicago mobilising to protect migrant communities and businesses against ICE raids.

Governments need to listen to their people and fulfil their obligations under ICERD and national law to protect the marginalised and oppressed against discrimination.

The views expressed in this article are the authors’ own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.