The Death Penalty Law as a Legal Instrument of Colonial Oppression and Structural Violence

It came as little surprise that the Knesset, on March 30, 2026, approved a law authorizing the use of capital punishment for Palestinians. Nor was it coincidental that this law was enacted on the anniversary of Land Day, serving as a stark reminder that colonialism does not merely seek control over land and natural resources but extends to the oppression of people and the erasure of their physical and spiritual existence.

It is also predictable that such legislation would be adopted, particularly in light of Israel’s historical record of widely and serious documented violations, including genocide, apartheid, ethnic cleansing (the Nakba in 1948, the 1970 Bahr al-Baqar primary school massacre in Egypt, the 1996 massacre of Qana in Lebanon, the 2002 Operation “Defensive Shield” in the West Bank, among many others). In this context, the death penalty law should not be understood as an isolated measure. Rather, this brief intervention situates it within an expanding legal and institutional framework that entrenches inequality and facilitates further violations. It illustrates how domestic legal systems can be mobilized to reinforce broader structures of domination, while operating within a global context that has proven largely unwilling to impose meaningful constraints.

Frenzied Measures Barely Concealing Their Racist Nature

Since its establishment in 1948, Israel relied on the legacy of British colonial rule, particularly the oppressive Emergency Regulations of 1945, originally enforced in Mandate Palestine to suppress the Palestinian revolt of 1936 and subsequent resistance to the Zionist project. Incorporated into the Israeli legal system after 1948, these regulations became the legal foundation for the death penalty, especially within the framework of military orders imposed on the occupied territories after 1967.

Under Israeli law, the death penalty is already present in several legislations, including the Law on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, 5710-1950; the Nazi and Nazi Collaborators (Punishment) Law, 5710-1950; the Penal Law, 5737-1977 (Article 97 on treason); and the Military Justice Law, 5715-1955 (Article 43 on treason in wartime). Despite Israel’s refusal to accede to the Second Optional Protocol to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (1989), the death penalty has, in practice, only been carried out in two cases. The first involved an army officer executed by firing squad for treason in 1949, and the second was the case of Adolf Eichmann, who was executed by hanging in 1962. In that case, the law was applied retroactively to acts committed prior to the establishment of the state and outside its territorial jurisdiction, following Eichmann’s abduction from Argentina and his transfer to Israel for trial.

The Yisrael Beiteinu party introduced a bill in 2015 to amend the Penal Law by adding the death penalty for “terrorists.” However, the proposal failed by a clear majority, largely due to internal political dynamics between Benjamin Netanyahu and Avigdor Lieberman, the head of the Yisrael Beiteinu party. The bill was reintroduced several times between 2016 and 2018 but did not progress beyond the preliminary reading stage and, at times, faced explicit opposition, even from members of right-wing parties. Further attempts in 2020, 2021, and 2023 – driven primarily by far-right figures such as Itamar Ben-Gvir – similarly failed to advance beyond the early stages of the legislative process.

In 2025, two bills were introduced to amend the Israeli Penal Law concerning the death penalty. Amendment Proposal 159 (“Death Penalty for Terrorists”), passed its first reading on November 10, 2025. The second, Amendment Proposal 160 (“Death Penalty for Terrorists”), was approved in its preliminary reading on the same day. Ultimately, the two proposals were merged and presented before the Knesset for second and third readings on March 29. The law was then effectively adopted a day later with the Israeli Prime Minister in attendance, and amid a celebratory atmosphere led by Itamar Ben-Gvir and several other ministers and Knesset members wearing gold noose-shaped pins. These pins made the imagery of execution visible within the legislative space itself.

A Law Reflecting a Racialized and Colonial Legal Regime

Article 1 of the death penalty law provides for the imposition of capital punishment for any person “who have carried out murderous terrorist attacks,” framed in terms of state security and deterrence. Article 3 requires the Minister of Defense to instruct the military commander to amend the legal framework governing the occupied West Bank within 30 days. While the death penalty previously existed within military orders, it was subject to procedural safeguards that are now systemically dismantled by Article 3(e) (including the requirement of issuing such a sentence unanimously by all judges on the panel, that the judges hold a military rank of at least Lieutenant Colonel, and that the military prosecution filed an explicit request).

Article 3(d) renders the death penalty the default sentence, permitting deviation only in narrowly defined exceptional circumstances, while its application is structurally discriminatory, effectively targeting Palestinians and excluding Israeli Jewish citizens and residents. Article 3(f) eliminates granting pardons or commuting the death penalty to a lesser sentence, removing a critical safeguard against irreversible punishment.

The law further extends into the Israeli civilian legal system. Article 4 removes minimum procedural guarantees under Penal Law, including the requirement that the death penalty be imposed only upon an explicit request from or with the support of the prosecution. Article 6 expands capital punishment to murderous acts “with the aim of negating the existence of the State of Israel.” Article 5 mandates execution within 90 days, and fails to clearly guarantee the right to appeal, while ensuring secrecy and institutional immunity. Taken together, these provisions further entrench the Israeli legal system to be structured along racial and political lines, reinforcing patterns consistent with apartheid (see here, here, and here).

The implications under international law are profound. The law directly implicates the right to life under Article 6 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, a non-derogable right applicable in both peacetime and situations of occupation. It further raises serious concerns under international humanitarian law. Under the Fourth Geneva Convention and the Hague Regulations, the occupying power lacks authority to extend its domestic legislative framework into occupied territory beyond what is strictly required for the welfare of the protected population. The present law, by contrast, expands punitive control rather than ensuring protection.

Moreover, the death penalty itself may amount to inhumane or degrading treatment under international law, particularly when imposed within a system lacking fundamental fair trial guarantees. Israeli military courts operating in the occupied territory have long been criticized for systemic deficiencies, including reliance on secret evidence and coercive interrogation practices. The imposition of capital punishment within such a framework intensifies concerns regarding arbitrariness and illegitimacy.

It should be noted that, in practice, Israel did not need to enact a death penalty law, as executions are carried out in cold blood outside the framework of the law by military forces and/or settlers against Palestinian civilians on an almost daily basis. Likewise, torture, abuse, as well as policies of starvation and medical neglect, have claimed the lives of prisoners inside detention facilities. Palestinian organizations have confirmed that at least 89 detainees have died since the beginning of the genocidal war in late 2023. These are those whose names are known, along with thousands who have been forcibly disappeared, whose fate and the circumstances of their deaths in detention remain unknown.

As of writing these lines, Palestinian organizations report that more than 9,600 Palestinian prisoners are held in the prisons of the occupying authorities (not counting military-run detention camps), including 350 children, 84 women, 3,532 administrative detainees, and approximately 1,251 detainees from Gaza classified as “unlawful combatants.” All Palestinian prisoners, without exception, have been subjected to severe campaigns of repression and abuse following the declaration of a state of maximum emergency in prisons since the outbreak of the 2023 “war”. These campaigns have involved the complete isolation of Palestinian prisoners from the outside world, with the International Committee of the Red Cross and family members barred from visits.

All of this has been accompanied by brutal forms of sexual violence and degrading treatment, such as forcing detainees to kneel or lie prone on the ground for extended periods, and restraining them in painful positions for prolonged durations.

When Law Lacks Consequence: Normalizing Systemic Violations

This legal development must be understood within a broader context in which grave violations of international law have increasingly been normalized. Despite extensive legal frameworks prohibiting genocide, collective punishment, and apartheid, and despite ongoing legal proceedings before international courts (the landmark case against Israel at the ICJ brought by South Africa, the ICC’s issuance of arrest warrants against Israeli officials, and Nicaragua’s own case against German complicity), Israel’s violence and structural repression have persisted with limited material consequences for decades. The persistence of such practices reflects not only the conduct of the state directly responsible, but also the failure of third states to take effective action.

While various governments have issued condemnations (like Latin American states), pursued legal actions (like African states), or expressed rhetorical support for accountability (like European governments), these measures have largely remained symbolic. In practice, many states continue to maintain ordinary diplomatic, economic, and trade relations, raising critical questions about the gap between legal commitments and material enforcement (see here and here for further discussions). For instance, South Africa – widely praised for its legal case before the ICJ – is also known as a significant African exporter to Israel. Similarly, Spain, despite being among the most vocal advocates of boycotts and condemnations, continues to maintain trade relations that positions it as one of Israel’s leading European partners. And the list goes on and on. When interventions fail to impose tangible economic costs, they are unlikely to alter the behavior of a state engaged in sustained, systemic violations. These dynamics may ultimately contribute to the legal codification of such practices.

This gap is further reinforced by broader political economic dynamics. In many contexts, states operate within global systems of capital and investment that create disincentives for disruptive action. The result is a broader environment in which violations are not only perpetuated but gradually normalized, weakening the integrity of the international legal order itself.

Conclusion

Although international law contains the necessary frameworks to prohibit genocide, end blockades and occupations, and secure self-determination, its failure to be effectively enforced has meant that these legal guarantees remain unrealized, while Palestinians, behind or outside bars, continue to endure extreme violence.

In this context, the death penalty law does not represent a rupture, but rather a continuation and consolidation of existing structures. It codifies forms of violence that Israel have long operated in practice, embedding them more deeply within formal legal frameworks while contributing to the broader erosion of international legal norms. The adoption of the death penalty law highlights a broader trajectory in which legal systems are used not only to regulate conduct, but to institutionalize inequality and reinforce structures of domination. At the same time, the limited and largely symbolic responses of third states have contributed to an environment in which serious violations persist without meaningful consequence.

This combination—the normalization of violence, the lack of material accountability, and the erosion of legal norms—poses a significant challenge to the international legal order. It raises fundamental questions about the capacity of existing frameworks to uphold their core principles, and about the willingness of states to act when those principles are violated.

What is at stake is not only the protection of a particular population, but the credibility and future of international law itself. This must begin by compelling Israel to end the occupation immediately, terminate all unlawful measures, hold perpetrators accountable for grave crimes, and ensure reparations for the Palestinian people.