Legalising the Noose: Israel’s Death Penalty and Its Implications for Palestinians

As Israel expands the use of capital punishment for Palestinians, the line between justice and power blurs.

Itamar Ben-Gvir, Israel’s far-right Minister of National Security, has been a big proponent of the death penalty law. (Photo: Creative Commons)

On March 30, Israel’s Knesset passed a new law imposing the death penalty specifically on Palestinians. Under this legislation, Israeli courts can legally execute detainees “convicted of lethal attacks” carried out with the aim of “terrorism” or “denying the existence of the State of Israel.” Notably, the same law does not apply to Israelis accused of similar crimes, reflecting an expansion of an unequal legal policy rather than a neutral security measure.

The timing of the legislation is striking. Its passage coincided with Land Day, a day dedicated to remembering the Palestinian struggle against land confiscation, honouring the steadfastness of detainees, and reviving Palestinian heritage. Instead of remembrance, the day was overshadowed by the institutionalisation of the death penalty for detainees convicted of such acts.

Israel appears to have advanced this law amid global distraction, taking advantage of the world’s preoccupation with other crises to push the legislation out of international focus. At the same time, Israeli media framed it as an urgent security necessity, reinforcing a system that limits criticism while normalising policies that raise serious human rights concerns.

Palestinian politician and activist Mustafa Barghouti stated in an interview with Alaraby TV that tens of thousands of Gazans have been killed, while many prisoners have reportedly been subjected to field executions. He also pointed to ongoing harassment by Israeli settlers, including the burning of homes, setting cars on fire, and assaults on civilians, nearly always carried out with complete impunity.

These actions, he argued, are frequently justified under terms such as “self-defence,” “collateral damage,” and “war victims.” Within this broader context, the new legislation does not stand alone, but represents a deeper expansion of an already evolving system.

Resistance Dynamics

Barghouti further suggested that such policies may be intended to extinguish Palestinian resistance. However, from a logical perspective, when individuals are left with no option but death while defending what has been taken from them, such conditions are more likely to intensify resistance rather than suppress it.

From a human perspective, opposition to this law extends far beyond political disagreement. It reflects a fundamental concern over the erosion of the right to life itself. The Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) warned that the legislation is discriminatory and incompatible with international law, raising serious concerns about violations of both the right to life and the guarantees of a fair trial.

Building on this, Amnesty International described the law as “a display of cruelty and discrimination,” cautioning that it does not merely introduce the death penalty, but significantly expands its scope within a system already criticised for its lack of accountability. The organisation emphasised that such measures risk normalising irreversible punishment in a context where justice itself is under question.

Similarly, Human Rights Watch highlighted that the structure of the law effectively embeds a dual system of justice, where legal outcomes are shaped not only by actions but by identity. According to the organisation, this reinforces a long-standing pattern in which Palestinians are subjected to harsher legal standards, undermining the principle of equality before the law.

Judicial Risks

On the ground, the implications become even more concrete. Legal organisations such as Adalah warned that the law could institutionalise executions within a framework that already lacks sufficient safeguards, particularly in military courts. Within such courts, where procedural protections are more limited, the introduction of the death penalty raises the risk of irreversible miscarriages of justice.

The Palestinian Prisoner’s Society described the law as a step toward the formalisation of executions within prisons, warning that it transforms detention from a condition of confinement into one of possible annihilation.

In parallel, the Arab Organisation for Human Rights framed the law as a blatant violation of international humanitarian law and the Geneva Conventions, emphasising that it reflects not only a legal shift, but a moral one—where the line between justice and punishment becomes increasingly blurred.

Taken together, these perspectives do not merely oppose a single piece of legislation. They highlight a broader transformation in which law is no longer simply a restraint on power, but a mechanism through which power is exercised. In such a context, the question is no longer whether justice is being served, but whether the very definition of justice is being reshaped.

Family Impact

The families of detainees began protesting in front of Red Cross headquarters in the West Bank from the moment the legislation was enacted. From waiting for a phone call or visit from their detained relatives to enduring delays or cancellations under the new law, the uncertainty has been overwhelming.

My friend Hamza Al-Saka, the son of a former detainee, recounted that waiting for his father during imprisonment was a form of torment. No information was certain—was his father in good health? Was he being mistreated or tortured? Was he even alive? Such uncertainty, he explained, consumed families from the inside.

Detainees inside prisons are not only stripped of their freedom but must also struggle for every basic right. Since October 7, 2023, thousands of Palestinians have been detained by Israeli authorities. Many have been held without clear charges and with limited access to legal support. Reports describe harsh treatment, including prolonged sleep deprivation, restricted movement, and limited access to food and water. Some detainees have also reported intimidation and mistreatment.

In such a reality, death is no longer feared solely as punishment, but is sometimes perceived as a final release from unbearable conditions.

Ultimately, the consequences of such legislation are not measured only in legal texts, but in human lives. What emerges is not simply a debate over policy, but a deeper question about justice itself—how it is defined, who it serves, and whether it can remain meaningful under conditions of inequality.