In an era marked by the steady erosion of truth, Belgium’s decision to reject the International Criminal Court’s politically fraught warrant against Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stands as a rare, timely act of moral clarity. It’s not merely a gesture of solidarity with a particular leader—it’s a firm affirmation of sovereignty, the right to self-defense, and a resolute commitment to justice. It pushes back against a distorted and dangerous narrative that recasts Israel—a nation engaged in a fight for its survival—as a perpetrator of genocide.

The ICC’s decision to pursue a warrant for Netanyahu is more than a misjudgment; it represents a troubling politicization of international law. The charge of “genocide” isn’t a neutral legal claim—it’s a strategic weapon, designed to delegitimize the Israeli state and smear its defensive actions. This invocation of genocide echoes, disturbingly, the same slanderous tropes once wielded in medieval blood libels. Once again, the Jewish state is cast as the villain, the aggressor, the slayer of innocents. And once again, ancient shadows fall over a contemporary conflict, turning legal institutions into unwitting participants in a long, dark tradition of scapegoating.

Belgium’s rejection of this warrant, then, is more than a bureaucratic decision—it is a moral stance. It rightly shifts scrutiny toward those exploiting international legal mechanisms to advance an ideological crusade against Israel. It affirms Israel’s sovereign right to defend itself from existential threats, and it does so unapologetically.

This is not simply a political skirmish; it is an existential struggle. Israel confronts not only Hamas and Hezbollah—groups openly committed to its annihilation—but also an international environment that too often embraces palatable falsehoods over discomfiting truths. These falsehoods are circulated with disturbing ease, amplified by a global press corps that often parrots casualty numbers from Palestinian sources without scrutiny—effectively serving as a megaphone for Hamas and its narrative allies.

Such reporting is not an innocent lapse in editorial judgment. When media organizations uncritically repeat statistics supplied by Hamas, they fail the fundamental journalistic duty of skepticism. The Palestinian authorities, aware of the power of perception, weaponize these figures to reinforce a carefully curated narrative of victimhood. And much of the press, willfully or lazily, repeats them as fact—betraying not just professional standards but ethical ones. Just this week, Gaza’s Health Ministry quietly removed 1,852 names from its tally of war fatalities since October 7th. The response? A deafening silence. Sparse reporting. Minimal outrage. That silence speaks volumes.

This isn’t mere ideological opposition—it is the deliberate weaponization of information. In this battle, the stakes are not only geopolitical; they are moral. Israel is defending more than its borders—it is fighting to preserve the truth against a flood of distortions designed to erode its legitimacy. This is not repression; it is survival. It is a defensive posture against adversaries—military, legal, and media-driven—who are committed to erasing the Jewish state.

And let’s be clear: Israel is not an outlier. Nations have long exercised the sovereign right to deny entry to individuals deemed security risks. In 2006, for example, the United Kingdom barred Anwar al-Awlaki, the Yemeni-American cleric tied to al-Qaeda, from entering the country. That decision was widely seen as prudent, not punitive. Yet, when Israel exercises the same prerogative—denying entry to those undermining its sovereignty—it faces disproportionate scrutiny and condemnation. The double standard is glaring, and it must be addressed.

Why is Israel held to such a uniquely unforgiving standard? Why must it continually justify its right to exist and defend itself when other states are granted these rights without question? The answer is as stark as it is uncomfortable: many of Israel’s critics are not genuinely interested in justice or peace. They seek to strip Israel of legitimacy altogether. Their goal is not accountability—it is erasure. They’re not pursuing facts—they’re spinning a narrative in which Israel must always be the villain, regardless of the evidence.

The press plays an indispensable role in maintaining this narrative. By repeating casualty figures issued by politically motivated sources without challenge, journalists enable a feedback loop that reinforces anti-Israel sentiment. This isn’t just poor journalism—it’s complicity. Groups like Hamas have long understood the value of media manipulation. They shape their messaging accordingly, casting themselves as victims and Israel as the aggressor. Reality, of course, is far more nuanced—but that nuance rarely makes headlines.

The international community must come to terms with a basic truth: Israel’s right to defend itself is not up for debate. It is a right enshrined in international law, a right shared by every nation, and a right that should not require constant reaffirmation. Belgium’s stance is a rare instance of truth prevailing over ideological convenience. It is a reminder that Israel deserves to be treated not as a global exception but as a sovereign state with the same rights and responsibilities as any other.

Israel will continue to protect its citizens, its borders, and its democratic institutions. It will not apologize for existing. It will not be cowed by those who seek to dismantle it through legal subterfuge or media distortion. The time has come for the international community to confront its own hypocrisy and acknowledge a fundamental reality: Israel’s survival is not conditional. Its right to defend itself is not negotiable.