Macron’s Gaza policy at home has revealed just how little regard his government has for Palestinian lives, writes Oman Alyahyai. [GETTY]
By denouncing Israel’s plan to expand its military operations in Gaza City as a “disaster waiting to happen”, French President Emmanuel Macron appears to be taking a bold stand. He also called for a permanent ceasefire and a UN-mandated international coalition to stabilise the Gaza Strip.
However, beneath the surface, France’s policies towards Palestinians – at home and abroad – continue to reveal a troubling pattern of hypocrisy, double standards and selective outrage.
Macron’s rhetoric on Gaza is, on its own, commendable. He is one of the few Western leaders willing to openly criticise Israel’s brutal campaign, which has already led to tens of thousands of Palestinian deaths, widespread famine and the displacement of nearly the entire population of Gaza.
Humanitarian agencies warn that the Gaza Strip is on the brink of total collapse, with children starving, hospitals destroyed, and no safe place left for civilians. Israel’s current campaign increasingly resembles a military takeover of the entire territory, not just a campaign to “eliminate Hamas,” as originally claimed.
But Macron’s words do not match France’s actions. For example, earlier this year in April, Macron claimed that in June, France would “move towards recognition, and we will do so in the coming months.” However, this did not happen.
Additionally, at the end of July, the French President said that “France will recognise the state of Palestine” at the UN General Assembly in September. Meanwhile, countries like Spain, Ireland and Norway have taken tangible steps toward recognition, without waiting for Washington or Brussels.
Most glaringly, Macron’s Gaza policy at home has revealed just how little regard his government has for Palestinian lives, or for justice. Just days after he called for a ceasefire, France suspended a programme allowing students from Gaza to study in the country, citing “concerns over antisemitism.”
This drastic measure came after the alleged social media posts of a single Palestinian student, who was due to begin studies at Sciences Po in Lille, were deemed antisemitic. Instead of addressing the specific case individually, the government responded by cancelling the participation of all students from Gaza.
This is collective punishment. The actions or alleged words of one student should not be used to penalise an entire programme intended to offer hope, education and opportunity to Palestinians whose lives have been torn apart by war. It is also a stark example of France’s double standards when it comes to Arabs and Muslims.
Israelis coming to France do not endure the same treatment. No one demands to see their social media posts before entering France, even though scores of Israeli social media users, including IDF soldiers, have posted mocking, celebratory and outright genocidal messages about the killing of Palestinians.
This is not conjecture, countless examples exist online. And yet, none of them have been used to justify a ban on Israeli entry.
The reality is that France has long held Arabs and Muslims to a different and far harsher standard. When Ukrainian refugees arrived in Europe, they were welcomed with open arms.
Emergency housing was made available, asylum systems were expedited and the public discourse was full of compassion. But when Afghan or Syrian refugees – fleeing wars just as brutal – tried to enter, they were met with suspicion, bureaucracy, and often outright hostility. The message was clear: white European refugees deserve empathy, but others must prove their worth and virtue before being allowed in.
Free speech or selective speech?
Nowhere is this hypocrisy more visible than in the French approach to freedom of expression. In principle, France prides itself on being a staunch defender of laïcité or secularism and free speech – including the right to blaspheme.
Blasphemy, legally defined as “insulting or showing contempt for God or sacred things,” is not only allowed but celebrated as a sign of secularism. French media outlets, like Charlie Hebdo have published cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad, and public figures often portray Islam as inherently violent or backward, all in the name of “free debate.”
But when the topic turns to Israel, suddenly criticism becomes dangerous. Denouncing Israeli state violence, questioning its apartheid policies or even using the word “genocide” becomes labelled as antisemitism – even when no Jews are targeted or maligned.
This conflation is deliberate and dangerous. Antisemitism – hostility or prejudice against Jews as a people or religion – must be condemned without reservation. But anti-Zionism, defined as opposition to the political ideology that underpins the state of Israel and its policies, is not inherently antisemitic.
The Israeli government has worked hard to blur this line, pushing the narrative that any criticism of Israel is an attack on Jewish identity itself. Unfortunately, many European governments, including France, have embraced this false equivalence. The result? Palestinians and their allies are silenced, delegitimised and criminalised, not for promoting hate, but for demanding accountability.
Macron’s policies reflect this imbalance. His government has cracked down on pro-Palestine demonstrations, detained activists and now revoked access to education for students from Gaza. Meanwhile, his call for a UN coalition in Gaza sounds like a vague echo of foreign interventions past, well-meaning, perhaps, but lacking credibility when France itself is failing the moral test at home.
If Macron truly wants to support peace and justice in Gaza, he must start by recognising a Palestinian state now, not when the political winds are more convenient. He must reinstate the student programme and treat Palestinians with the same dignity he extends to others.
Oman Alyahyai is a writer and journalist based in Paris.
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