
Human rights experts and international law scholars have long reached a consensus: Israel is an apartheid state. A Jewish majority enjoys privileged rights, while the Palestinian minority—especially those living under occupation, military rule, and genocidal violence—are systematically denied those same rights.
In response to this reality, Israel’s defenders often point to the few Palestinian representatives in the Knesset as evidence of democratic pluralism. “Look,” they say, “Arab citizens can vote. They even have members of parliament.” But this week, the Knesset made clear—once again—that representation does not equal democracy when those representatives are punished for exercising free speech or demanding justice.
The Israeli parliament is now moving to expel Ayman Odeh, a Palestinian MK and the longtime head of Hadash (the Democratic Front for Peace and Equality), a coalition rooted in the Israeli Communist Party and composed largely of Palestinian and Jewish leftists. From 2015 to 2022, Odeh also led the Joint List, an alliance of Arab and Arab-majority parties that sought to amplify the voice of Israel’s Palestinian citizens in the political arena.
Odeh has dedicated his life to advancing workers’ rights, human rights, and peaceful Jewish-Arab coexistence. By all accounts, he is a true mensch—a principled, courageous leader who has used the parliamentary system to fight for equality in the face of repression.
But in May, at a rally opposing Israel’s ongoing genocidal war on Gaza, Odeh dared to speak uncomfortable truth:
“After more than 600 days [of war in Gaza], there’s now a majority among both peoples who say, ‘I wish these days had never come.’ This is a historic defeat of the right. It was vanquished in Gaza. Gaza has won, and Gaza will win.”
For this, Odeh now stands accused of “supporting terrorism.”
Far-right lawmakers from Netanyahu’s ruling coalition immediately pounced. Ophir Katz, Likud MK and chair of the committee overseeing the expulsion effort, shouted at Odeh, “Your presence pollutes the Knesset!” and branded him “a terrorist.” Katz went so far as to claim that Odeh represented “the eighth front” in Israel’s multi-front war.

Another Likud member, Osher Shkalim, escalated the incitement by yelling that in “another country,” Odeh “would be facing a firing squad.”
Odeh was also condemned for expressing joy during a prisoner exchange in January, when captives were released by both Israel and Hamas. He celebrated the fact that families—on both sides—were reunited. For Israel’s ultra-nationalist lawmakers, acknowledging the humanity of Palestinians detained by the state is tantamount to endorsing terrorism.
But this is not the first time the Knesset has tried to silence Palestinian and allied voices. It is merely the latest and perhaps most brazen example.
In 2023, Odeh’s Hadash colleague, Aida Touma-Suleiman, was suspended for two months for speaking about Israeli war crimes in Gaza. In early 2024, the Knesset tried to impeach Ofer Cassif, a Jewish member of Hadash, for publicly supporting South Africa’s genocide case against Israel at the International Court of Justice. Though the plenum fell just five votes short of expelling him, Cassif was later suspended for six months.
The pattern is long-standing. In both 2003 and 2009, the Knesset’s election committee tried to bar Ahmad Tibi, head of the Arab Ta’al party, from running for office. His crime? Having once worked with Yasser Arafat, head of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), the internationally recognized representative of the Palestinian people. Though the Supreme Court ultimately overturned the ban in both cases, the effort underscored how the system moves to shut out Palestinians seen as too assertive, too independent, or too principled.
Israel often holds up these very same figures as evidence of its so-called democracy. But when Palestinian lawmakers—or their allies—speak out against apartheid, demand equal rights, or align themselves with global movements for justice, they are swiftly punished, smeared, and removed from public life.
Far from disproving the apartheid label, Israel’s treatment of Palestinian representatives only reinforces it. The state tolerates their presence—barely—as long as they remain silent or symbolic. The moment they become inconvenient, they’re silenced.
And so the myth of Israeli democracy continues to unravel, exposed not just in the streets of Gaza or the rubble of Rafah, but on the floor of the very parliament that claims to represent all its citizens.
As with all op-eds published by People’s World, the views reflected here are those of the author.
We hope you appreciated this article. At People’s World, we believe news and information should be free and accessible to all, but we need your help. Our journalism is free of corporate influence and paywalls because we are totally reader-supported. Only you, our readers and supporters, make this possible. If you enjoy reading People’s World and the stories we bring you, please support our work by donating or becoming a monthly sustainer today. Thank you!