Norman Finkelstein: Can Anyone STOP Israel?

To understand what has happened in Gaza, it is not enough to look at casualty figures, images of destruction, or official statements by governments. The more fundamental questions are how such a catastrophe can continue before the eyes of the world, what mechanisms help sustain it, and why institutions that present themselves as defenders of human rights, freedom of expression, and democratic values sometimes remain silent in the face of human suffering or impose restrictions on those who protest against it.

In the interview on which this article is based, Norman Finkelstein, a prominent scholar and critic of Israeli government policies, seeks to move beyond the day-to-day events and examine these questions within a broader political, historical, and social framework. The significance of his remarks lies not only in his sharp criticism of the Israeli government’s conduct, but also in his effort to explain the relationship between power, the media, public opinion, and the possibilities for social resistance.

Finkelstein highlights a fundamental contradiction. On the one hand, the issue of Palestine, particularly following the war in Gaza, has gained renewed prominence in public opinion and even in electoral contests in some Western countries. On the other hand, universities, cultural institutions, and parts of the public sphere continue to impose restrictions on pro-Palestinian expression.

These two realities demonstrate that changes in public opinion do not necessarily lead to immediate changes in official policy. Society may be changing while political and economic institutions continue to resist that change.

Defending Finkelstein’s views in this context does not mean accepting every one of his assessments without question. Rather, it means taking the questions he raises seriously and examining his arguments about political responsibility, truth, and power. One of the strengths of his approach is that he refuses to allow the debate over Palestine to be reduced to a competition between official narratives. Instead, he calls for evidence to be examined, claims to be scrutinized, and those in positions of power to be held accountable.

1. Gaza and the Shift in Public Opinion: A Growing Divide That Can No Longer Be Ignored

One of the most important points in Finkelstein’s interview is his emphasis on the changes that have taken place in the political and social climate surrounding Palestine in the United States. He recalls that before October 7, 2023, openly supporting an end to the blockade of Gaza could have carried a significant political cost for a candidate in the United States. In his view, taking such a position could, at the time, have become a liability in many electoral contests. In the years following the outbreak of the war, however, that situation has changed.

Finkelstein argues that support for Palestine in some local elections and even at higher levels of politics no longer necessarily leads to electoral defeat. Instead, it can become part of a candidate’s appeal. In his view, this shift represents a significant change in the boundaries of American political debate.

The importance of this development should not be underestimated. In political systems, public opinion is not merely a collection of personal beliefs; it is one of the factors that shapes the legitimacy of government decisions. When an issue that was once pushed to the margins becomes part of mainstream public debate, defending existing policies can become increasingly costly.

Of course, changes in public opinion alone do not guarantee a shift in foreign policy. Governments may make decisions under the influence of political alliances, strategic interests, military relationships, and economic pressures. Nevertheless, growing public opposition can narrow their room for maneuver and make it more difficult to continue pursuing established policies.

Finkelstein identifies two main factors behind this shift: first, the scale and visibility of the destruction and human suffering in Gaza; and second, the widespread circulation of images and information through social media and alternative media outlets.

In his view, the sheer volume of visual evidence and reporting published online has made it more difficult to control the public narrative. When images of destroyed homes, displaced families, and the plight of civilians become accessible to millions of people, maintaining a one-sided account of the war becomes more challenging.

Finkelstein believes that mainstream media outlets have also gradually been forced to pay attention to aspects of reality that previously received limited coverage. In this context, he emphasizes the role of online media in breaking the monopoly over the narrative.

Of course, access to information does not automatically mean that everyone will arrive at the truth. Social media can also serve as a channel for misinformation. The central point in Finkelstein’s argument, however, is that a limited group of media organizations can no longer easily determine which images, reports, and questions are allowed to enter the public sphere.

This is precisely the kind of change that can have political consequences over time. People are no longer merely passive recipients of official narratives. They can compare competing accounts, share documents, and demand explanations from powerful institutions.

In this part of the interview, Finkelstein also points to the prominent role of young people in protests related to Gaza. He does not see this solidarity merely as a reaction to images of war. He suggests that some members of the younger generation may relate the situation of Palestinians to their own feelings of powerlessness and instability.

In his view, a generation facing job insecurity, difficulties affording housing, and diminishing prospects for starting a family may see the suffering of people confronting a far more powerful adversary as a symbol of their own experiences.

This analysis does not mean that the living conditions of young people in Western countries are equivalent to those of people in Gaza. Rather, it seeks to explain a form of political empathy: the feeling that structures of power can profoundly shape people’s lives while ordinary individuals have limited means of changing their circumstances.

In this way, Gaza has become more than a distant issue for some young people. It has become a moral and political concern. Finkelstein regards this shift as one of the most significant developments of recent years, one that could help lay the groundwork for new social coalitions.

2. Freedom of Expression Under Pressure: A Real Test for Institutions That Claim to Uphold Democracy

One of the most striking parts of the interview is Finkelstein’s criticism of how universities and cultural institutions have responded to pro-Palestinian protests. He distinguishes between two developments occurring simultaneously: the growing political significance of the Gaza issue among sections of society and the restrictions placed on the expression of certain views in academic and professional settings.

This contradiction raises a fundamental question about the meaning of freedom of expression. Is freedom of speech respected only as long as people’s views do not conflict with the interests of powerful institutions? Should a university that champions academic independence and intellectual freedom uphold those same principles when faced with financial and political pressure?

Finkelstein argues that many universities have failed to resist external pressure adequately when confronting pro-Palestinian protests. He points to the influence of major financial donors, wealthy benefactors, and administrative decisions in shaping the academic environment.

His central argument is that university independence must be more than a public-relations slogan. If a university restricts the expression of particular views because a powerful group objects to them, it should be held accountable for the extent of its actual independence.

This issue becomes especially important when students and professors discuss war, human rights, and government responsibility. Universities should provide spaces where claims are assessed against evidence, arguments are challenged, and even unpopular views can be expressed, provided they remain within legitimate rules of conduct.

Defending freedom of expression, however, does not mean ignoring threats, harassment, discrimination, or violence. Universities have a responsibility to protect the safety of their communities and address threatening behavior. But this responsibility should not become an excuse for broadly restricting political viewpoints or punishing people simply for criticizing a government’s conduct.

An important distinction must be maintained here: criticizing the policies of the Israeli government is not the same as hostility toward Jewish people, just as criticizing the policies of any other government should not automatically be treated as an attack on the ethnic or religious identity of that country’s population. Conversely, support for Palestinians must not become a pretext for justifying antisemitism or targeting individuals because of their identity.

Maintaining this distinction is not only consistent with freedom of expression; it is also essential to preserving the credibility of movements defending Palestinian rights. Political criticism becomes more powerful when it is precise, evidence-based, and directed at the decisions and structures responsible for particular actions.

During the interview, Finkelstein refers to a report on the suppression of freedom of expression at American universities that, according to him, was published by Amnesty International and the American Civil Liberties Union. He also discusses experiences at different universities and variations in the extent of media coverage given to protests.

One important lesson to draw from this discussion is the need for equal treatment of protests. If the severity of disciplinary measures, the amount of media coverage, or the responses of university administrators depend on students’ social and economic standing, the principle of equality in public life is called into question.

Ultimately, freedom of expression has real meaning only when it is protected for critics as well, particularly when they are challenging military policies and the decisions of powerful institutions.

Finkelstein expects universities and intellectuals who describe themselves as defenders of academic freedom to uphold these principles in practice. This demand can be seen as the moral core of his criticism: democratic values must not become selective principles that are defended only when doing so comes at little cost.

3. Beyond a Single Leader: Political Responsibility and the Need to Examine Public Opinion

One of Finkelstein’s most controversial arguments in the interview is his rejection of explanations that attribute everything that has happened in Gaza to Benjamin Netanyahu’s personality. In his view, the media and commentators sometimes attempt to place the main responsibility for events on Israel’s prime minister, as though his departure would also eliminate the underlying causes of the crisis.

Finkelstein considers this interpretation inadequate. In his view, political leaders do not remain in power solely because of their personal characteristics. They operate within political structures, alliances, institutions, and broader social attitudes. Understanding a government’s policies therefore requires examining not only its leaders but also the structures that enable those policies to continue.

This argument raises a serious question: when a policy persists over an extended period, is it sufficient to explain it by pointing to the decisions of a single individual? Or should we also examine which institutions support it, which forces resist changing it, and which sections of society accept or tolerate it?

From this perspective, Finkelstein emphasizes the importance of examining public opinion in Israel. During the interview, he refers to several polls that, according to him, indicate that at the time those surveys were conducted, a large proportion of Jewish Israeli respondents did not consider the use of military force in Gaza excessive or expressed support for it. He also refers to findings in which a considerable number of respondents denied that there were innocent civilians in Gaza or expressed little concern about reports of hunger and famine.

In the interview, these figures are presented as evidence supporting his argument about Israel’s political and social climate. However, any definitive use of these figures requires checking the exact wording of the survey questions, the dates on which the polls were conducted, their sampling methods, and their original sources. The fact that figures are cited in an interview is not, by itself, a substitute for an independent methodological assessment.

With that limitation in mind, the question Finkelstein raises remains important: what role does public opinion play in sustaining military policies? When government policies face widespread public opposition, their political costs may rise. Conversely, when a significant portion of society supports those policies or remains indifferent to their humanitarian consequences, changing course can become more difficult.

Nevertheless, distinctions must be made between the responsibilities of governments, military institutions, and individuals. No society is entirely homogeneous, and the views of an entire population cannot be determined solely by the results of a single poll. Dissenting voices, generational differences, minority positions, and changes over time must also be taken into account.

Yet this caution should not become an excuse for ignoring collective and institutional responsibilities. Government policies are not implemented in a vacuum. They depend on financial resources, personnel, political support, and a range of operational decisions. Examining who designs, implements, supports, or challenges these policies is therefore an essential part of understanding the crisis.

Finkelstein also argues that responsibility should not be confined to a single leader while the structures that make that leader’s policies possible are exempted from scrutiny. This is politically significant because replacing an individual does not necessarily lead to a change in policy.

If the goal is to prevent such a catastrophe from happening again, the question is not simply who occupies the highest office in government. It is also which mechanisms shape decision-making, what constraints are placed on power, and what guarantees exist to protect civilians and hold those responsible accountable.

4. October 7, Revenge, and the Objectives of War: How a Crisis Can Become a Strategic Opportunity

In another part of the interview, Finkelstein discusses the consequences of the October 7, 2023, attacks and the objectives that, in his view, were pursued in their aftermath. He does not deny or minimize the human toll of that day. On the contrary, he acknowledges that the killing of large numbers of people, including civilians, was a serious event that cannot be ignored.

His central question, however, concerns what followed: how can a security and political shock become the basis for expanding military operations and pursuing broader strategic objectives?

Finkelstein identifies three factors in addressing this question: the shock caused by the attacks, the desire for revenge, and the use of the crisis to advance objectives that may extend beyond an immediate response to the attacks.

From his perspective, the October 7 attacks dealt a severe blow to Israel’s image of deterrence. A state that regarded itself as possessing superior intelligence and military capabilities faced an event that exposed significant weaknesses in its security arrangements. Finkelstein argues that part of the subsequent response should be understood as an effort to restore this image of power and reestablish the deterrent effect of Israel’s military strength in the region.

He also emphasizes the role of revenge. In his view, the intensity of the military response cannot be explained solely through security calculations. Anger, a sense of humiliation, and the desire for retaliation can also influence political and military decision-making.

This is an important consideration in the analysis of war. Governments typically justify military operations in terms of security, deterrence, and defense. Evaluating these justifications, however, requires asking whether the actions taken were proportionate to their stated objectives, whether a distinction was made between military forces and civilians, and whether the strategy adopted contributes to lasting security or creates a new cycle of violence.

Within this framework, Finkelstein points to several objectives that, in his view, were pursued in the wake of the crisis: fundamentally transforming the situation in Gaza, increasing pressure on the West Bank, weakening Hezbollah, and confronting Iran. He sees these objectives as part of an effort to exploit a crisis that initially emerged as a major security failure.

This is Finkelstein’s political interpretation of events, and establishing each of the objectives he identifies would require examining documentary evidence, official decisions, statements by government officials, and independent sources. Nevertheless, the question he raises remains essential: do a war’s stated objectives correspond to the actions carried out on the ground?

If the stated objective is to protect security, it is necessary to examine whether expanding the war, destroying vital infrastructure, displacing large numbers of people, and intensifying regional hostility actually produce lasting security. Military operations may achieve short-term gains, but if they fail to address the underlying political causes of a conflict, the risk of continued violence remains.

In assessing the confrontation with Iran, Finkelstein also emphasizes the importance of history and strategic patience. He argues that military strength and advanced technology alone are not sufficient to guarantee victory; the political, historical, and social capacities of the opposing side must also be taken into account.

His reference to Iran’s several-thousand-year-old civilization is primarily intended to highlight differences in historical perspective and approaches to time. His point is that countries with long historical experiences may view current events within a broader framework and may not necessarily operate with the same sense of urgency or the same logic of power that characterizes the short-term decision-making of some governments.

This argument should not be interpreted to mean that an ancient civilization automatically guarantees military victory. The outcome of a war depends on numerous factors, ranging from economic and technological capabilities to alliances, geography, political will, and human costs. The defensible point in Finkelstein’s argument is that reliance on military superiority can lead to serious miscalculations, particularly when an adversary’s capabilities and determination are underestimated.

From this perspective, a crisis can simultaneously present an opportunity to expand power and a risk of undermining it. A government that believes military force can resolve every political problem may ultimately find itself fighting more wars without achieving lasting security.

5. The Power of the People: From Social Pressure to Political Accountability

In the final part of the interview, Finkelstein addresses what may be the most important political question of all: what force can compel governments to limit military operations and change their policies?

His answer is clear: the power of the people.

Finkelstein believes that public opinion and social pressure play an important role in constraining government actions. He points to changes in the political climate in the United States and the United Kingdom, as well as growing criticism of Israeli policies among sections of the younger generation and certain political movements.

The significance of this argument lies in the gap between formal political power and social power. Governments have access to militaries, budgets, diplomatic institutions, and executive tools. Yet these instruments cannot be used indefinitely without financial resources, political backing, public legitimacy, and the cooperation of various institutions.

Public protests, student activism, media campaigns, pressure on elected representatives, and demands for accountability can increase the political cost of continuing a particular policy. These forms of pressure do not necessarily produce immediate change, but they can alter the boundaries within which governments make decisions.

However, Finkelstein’s argument also points to a more fundamental consideration: changes in public opinion become more effective when they are translated into specific, actionable demands.

Condemning war or expressing sympathy for its victims is a starting point. But turning solidarity into political power requires clear and achievable objectives. Protecting civilians, ensuring unimpeded access to humanitarian aid, ending collective punishment, upholding international law, and holding those responsible for human rights violations accountable are examples of demands that can provide a foundation for public action.

Persistence is essential to this process. Social pressure must not be limited to temporary reactions to shocking images. When media attention declines or another crisis takes center stage, the suffering of victims risks being forgotten. Maintaining public attention and pursuing demands consistently are therefore part of the responsibility of civil society movements.

At the same time, these movements must be grounded in clear principles if they are to maintain their credibility: opposition to the killing of civilians, defense of equal human rights, rejection of ethnic and religious discrimination, opposition to hostage-taking and collective punishment, and insistence that all parties responsible for human rights violations be held accountable.

These principles transform solidarity from a purely emotional position into a lasting political and ethical framework. The defense of Palestinian rights will have its greatest persuasive force when it simultaneously upholds human dignity, justice, and equal rights.

In the interview, Finkelstein views the shift in public opinion as a sign that change is possible, but he does not regard it as the end of the process. In his view, pressure must continue from the bottom up: citizens must demand that politicians honor their commitments and remain accountable for their decisions.

Unlike absolute political pessimism, this perspective emphasizes the possibility of change. If public opinion had no significance, changing attitudes would not impose costs on those in power. Yet the experience of social movements shows that political change often results from a combination of public awareness, organization, persistence, and sustained demands for accountability.

From this perspective, solidarity with Palestine means more than opposing a particular military operation. It means defending the principle that no government should be exempt from accountability because of its military strength or the support it receives from its allies.

Conclusion: Truth, Responsibility, and the Possibility of Change

Norman Finkelstein’s interview offers a critical account of the relationship between war, the media, public opinion, and political power. The central argument is that understanding the catastrophe in Gaza requires more than relying on official government statements or explanations offered by those in positions of power. The evidence must be examined, claims must be distinguished from facts, and questions must be asked about who benefits from the continuation of the status quo and who bears its costs.

One of the interview’s most important themes is the changing nature of public opinion. Growing attention to Palestine and the increasing prominence of the issue in political and academic debates demonstrate that dominant narratives are not fixed. Access to information, the work of independent media, and the participation of citizens in public life can weaken the monopoly over the narrative.

At the same time, the experiences of universities and cultural institutions demonstrate that changing social attitudes do not automatically produce an immediate victory for freedom of expression. Institutions that defend democratic principles must uphold them even under difficult circumstances, rather than recognizing freedom only for views they find acceptable.

Another important point is the need to look beyond individual leaders. Examining a government’s decisions without considering its institutions, power structures, political alliances, and social environment produces an incomplete picture. Individual responsibility must be assessed on the basis of each person’s role and the available evidence, but the structures that enable military policies must also remain subject to scrutiny.

Ultimately, the most important political message of the interview can be summarized in its emphasis on the power of the people. Changes in policy become more likely when public awareness is transformed into sustained, organized, and clearly defined demands. Governments may resist scattered expressions of criticism, but persistent social pressure can increase the costs of their decisions and create new political possibilities.

At its best, defending Finkelstein’s views means defending the right to question authority and the necessity of accountability: no government should be beyond criticism, no official claim should be accepted without scrutiny, and no person should be deprived of fundamental rights because of their national, ethnic, or religious identity.

Gaza is a test of these principles, but the significance of that test extends far beyond the geographical boundaries of Palestine. The real questions are whether human rights retain their meaning when powerful states are involved, whether freedom of expression extends to critics of official policies, and whether the international community can distinguish political claims from factual evidence.

The answers to these questions will not be determined by speeches and declarations alone. They will take shape through government actions, institutional independence, sustained civic engagement, and citizens’ ability to demand justice.

Finkelstein’s ultimate message can therefore be understood as a call to resist unquestioning acceptance of established narratives: truth must be examined, power must remain accountable, and solidarity with victims must move beyond emotion and become a sustained commitment to defending human rights.