When is a genocide, a genocide? This question is not just important in a legal sense – it is critical when assessing how far the global rule-based world order has fallen. And the world needs rules, not only in an abstract sense, but to underpin the economic prosperity which has characterised the post-war global era.
The UN’s Convention on Genocide, adopted in 1948, defines it as “acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group”. Note the words “in part”. Killing only part of a group, as in the Bosnian-Serb murder of 8,372 Bosnian Muslims at Srebrenica in 1995, is also genocide.
The convention obliges its 153 state signatories “to prevent and to punish” genocides. Tragically, mostly (such as in Rwanda), they have failed. But the convention is critical because it is an internationally agreed legal definition of genocide that can help us see through the wrangling over what is transpiring in Gaza.
Gaza as a genocide
Hamas’ attack on 7 October 2023, which killed more than 1,200 people and resulted in the abduction of 90 hostages, was a horrifying act of violence that evoked deep historical trauma for the Jewish community.
Yet, one atrocity cannot serve as justification for another.
According to a study published in The Lancet, between 7 October 2023 and 30 June 2024, an estimated 64,260 Palestinians lost their lives due to traumatic injuries – a figure 41% higher than the official reports from Gaza’s health authorities. Such staggering numbers demand serious scrutiny regarding proportionality and intent, highlighting the urgent need for impartial investigations into potential violations of international law.
Intent to commit genocide is often difficult to prove. For example, killing as a by-product of another aim, such as self-defence, is not legally genocide. However, statements from prominent Israeli leaders have sparked global condemnation. Former Defence Minister Yoav Gallant’s description of Palestinians as “human animals” and President Isaac Herzog’s assertion that an “entire nation” bears responsibility for Hamas’s actions are chilling.
Holocaust scholar Raz Segal and other historians argue that such rhetoric, combined with the devastating military campaign, meets the legal definition of genocide. This is remarkable; very rarely in the past have even those convicted of genocide been so stupid as to make overtly genocidal comments while performing the act.
In an era in which shared truths are lacking, Israel’s defenders dismiss such accusations as anti-Semitic. That claim is not only unverifiable, but also irrelevant. Nobody can prove that critics are or are not anti-Semitic. Perhaps some are. But that isn’t the question. It has nothing to do with whether Israel’s acts meet the legal definition of genocide or not.
Destruction of Gaza’s infrastructure as a fabric of human life
No locations in Gaza have been spared the destructive force of the Israeli military and its ferocious bombing since 7 October. But nowhere has been more completely shattered than Jabalia, once an ancient city that after the 1948 war lent its name to the nearby refugee camp.
So relentless has been Israel’s assault and so complete the destruction — not just in Jabalia but also in nearby Beit Lahia and Beit Hanoun — that a former Israeli defence minister late last year described the military’s actions in northern Gaza as “ethnic cleansing”.
“There’s no Beit Hanoun. There’s no Beit Lahia. They [the Israeli military] are currently operating in Jabalia, and essentially, they’re cleaning the area of Arabs,” said Moshe Yalon, broadcast on TV. Condemned for his comments, he doubled down, telling a second interviewer that “it’s ethnic cleansing — there’s no other word for it”.
A welcome ceasefire is the first step
The precarious ceasefire in Gaza is a much-needed reprieve (if Donald Trump was instrumental in it, then well done to him), but it must pave the way for a permanent truce and accountability. The International Criminal Court (ICC) and International Court of Justice (ICJ) must investigate allegations of war crimes and genocide with impartiality and rigour.
The fall of the Netanyahu government, should it occur, must not shield those responsible from justice. The global rules-based order depends on ensuring that international law is applied consistently and without bias.
Philosopher Slavoj Žižek has noted that the international order has always been imperfect, citing examples like Guantanamo Bay and Abu Ghraib. However, the scale of destruction in Gaza threatens to erode the very foundation of global governance.
The post-World War 2 economic boom and the prosperity that followed the Cold War were closely tied to the establishment of global institutions and legal norms. A world where might equals right would not only lead to human suffering, but would also destabilise economies worldwide.
Writer Arundhati Roy says that if crimes of Gaza go unpunished, “the moral architecture of western liberalism will cease to exist. It was always hypocritical, we know. But even that provided some type of shelter. That shelter is disappearing before our eyes”.
Real economic effects of a collapse of the rule of law
The collapse of a rules-based order would have dire consequences for global economic growth.
Without a predictable legal framework, international trade and investment would suffer from uncertainty and instability. Supply chains, already vulnerable to geopolitical tensions, would face further disruptions as nations prioritise unilateral actions over cooperative solutions. Moreover, weaker states, such as South Africa, would face heightened economic exploitation as powerful nations leverage their dominance to extract resources and impose unfavourable terms of trade.
The international community faces a stark choice: uphold the principles of justice, accountability and the rule of law, or accept a world where power and violence dictate outcomes. The events in Gaza are not just a humanitarian crisis but a test of whether the global rules-based order can endure.
The costs of failure – in human lives, economic stability and international trust – are too great to ignore. The pursuit of justice, through the ICC, the ICJ, and other mechanisms, is not an abstract ideal but an urgent necessity for the survival of a civilised world.
Many in the global south, particularly South Africans, have celebrated the return of Trump. But his comments, defying international law and international multilateral institutions, come with their own implications.
A world without rules is one in which the strong prey upon the weak. And as those from Africa know only too well, it is weak countries – like South Africa – which are likely to be preyed on first. DM