Europe continues to wave the banner of its indignation for Gaza, but remains prisoner to its tired refrain: "two peoples, two states". It is the magic formula that has been repeated in Brussels for decades as if it were a saving prayer, a mantra useful for covering up the absence of political courage. In reality, that horizon has dissolved, overwhelmed by the expansion of settlements in the West Bank, the devastation of the Strip and mutual radicalisation. But in the chancelleries of Europe, it is enough to evoke the slogan to feel part of the "diplomatic game".
It is a pity that no one takes it seriously anymore: neither Israel, which looks to the United States and the Abraham Accords, nor the Palestinians, who turn to Qatar, Egypt or Turkey. The European Union is not irrelevant by definition: it is Israel's largest trading partner, the main financier of the Palestinian cause and has formidable economic leverage. If it wanted to, it could exert real pressure. But this is not happening. Brussels prefers to take refuge in communiqués, a prisoner of internal divisions between pro-Israeli countries and governments that flirt with openly pro-Palestinian positions. The result: Europe appears to the world as an economic giant that consciously chooses to remain a political dwarf.
The Spanish case is emblematic. Under Pedro Sánchez, Madrid has chosen the path of total ideologisation of the Palestinian cause. This stance often borders on blatant anti-Semitism: when ministers equate Israel with the Nazis or when chants are tolerated in the streets that no longer distinguish between the state and the Jewish people, the red line has long been crossed. The defence of the Palestinians has become a pretext for attacking Israel in every international forum, supporting UN reports and commissions that are notoriously biased.
This is not diplomacy: it is political obsession. An obsession that ends up weakening not only Israel, but the credibility of the entire continent. And if Madrid brandishes Gaza as an ideological banner, the rest of Europe is no better off. In France, Emmanuel Macron is pushing for the recognition of the Palestinian state, a state that does not actually exist and has no unified political structure.
This move is seen by many as a political gift to Hamas, indirectly legitimising a terrorist organisation and rewarding those who have chosen the path of violence. Macron, caught between the need to ride the wave of domestic consensus and the temptation to establish himself as a "great mediator", ends up weakening Europe's position, turning a symbolic gesture into a concrete favour to the worst enemies of peace. Germany, for its part, continues to juggle between calls for human rights and support for Israel, without ever establishing a strategic line.
Italy defends the need to guarantee the security of the Jewish state, but fails to impose a unified direction on the EU. Worse still, on the domestic front, it shows disturbing cracks. Universities, once laboratories of ideas, have been transformed into free zones where pro-Palestinian agitators lay down the law. Occupations, cultural boycotts, pressure on rectors: in Italian universities, the Palestinian cause has become a convenient cover for imposing an ideological narrative without contradiction.
This is not academic debate, it is militancy in disguise. Added to this is the political left, which largely uses Gaza as an internal lever. Not to really address the suffering of Palestinian civilians, but to settle domestic scores, reactivate old slogans, and shift the axis of internal debate. Some trade unions are no different: they proclaim international solidarity, but in reality they use the Middle Eastern tragedy to target governments and internal opponents, in a sort of "proxy war" that has nothing to do with the search for peace in the Middle East.
Gaza thus becomes the ideal arena for fuelling stale ideological battles, disguised as humanitarianism. It is not surprising that these same trade unions are often the ones that oppose any economic modernisation, turning solidarity into a pretext for stirring up the masses. After 7 October, Europe's contradictions became clear. In the early hours, there were solemn condemnations of Hamas; a few weeks later, the usual repertoire: accusations against Israel, generic references to international law, a litany of parliamentary motions. It is a variable geometry of indignation, calibrated to the needs of national public opinion. A superficial indignation that produces nothing. The formula "two peoples, two states" continues to circulate like a worn-out talisman, but there are no plans, deadlines or instruments. Only words.
Thus, Europe has abdicated its role as a geopolitical actor. Despite its geographical proximity and economic weight, it prefers to take refuge in the role of moralist who judges from afar. While negotiations are taking place in Washington, Doha and Cairo, Brussels remains in the background, watching the moves of others. In the vacuum left by the EU, regional and global players are stepping forward, with the flaw — or merit — of actually taking action.
The difference is striking: others take action, Europe talks. And when it talks, it too often does so only to reflect on its own supposed moral superiority. Gaza is the litmus test of this irrelevance. And Italy, which should have the strength to lead a more pragmatic Europe, limits itself to chasing slogans, while leaving its universities at the mercy of agitators and turning trade unions into megaphones for imported propaganda. A cultural surrender even before a political one.
