This blog was written by Eleonora Ungaro, our Operations and Advocacy Coordinator.
I know what you might think: joy does not always rhyme with activism. Joining a protest is seen as quite the opposite, actually, carrying the exhaustion of facing injustice and violence. And yet, connecting and finding each other is our power to counterbalance the sorrow that so often comes with seeing so much suffering and double standards.
Those who have been to a protest must have felt this powerful presence of being united with something larger, something intense, and know the strange, luminous force it gives.
Last weekend, I felt that force again.
In Amsterdam, a red line (rode lijn) ran through the city. Thousands of us, dressed in red, gathered to demand an end to the genocide perpetrated by the Israeli government in Gaza since October 7, 2023. We were 250,000 in the Netherlands, and millions more in Madrid, Rome, London, Paris, and Lisbon. A wave of indignation and humanity is sweeping across Europe. One in four people in Amsterdam took to the streets: entire families, elderly people, students, workers, organisations, friends, strangers, all united by the same cry: stop the genocide!
Before the march, I spent the morning painting posters, small acts of creation that felt like resistance. Then, being in Museumplein, surrounded by thousands of people who refuse to look away, I realised how good I felt, not being alone reading the horrendous news coming from Gaza.
I chatted with other protesters, shared small acts of care: a cookie, a comment about each other’s posters (mine was drawn on the back of a cereal box, which started several conversations), or just a smile when we noticed we were both wearing red, both there to fight the same fight. I met dear friends whom I was proud to walk beside.
Even those who could not join found ways to participate, hanging Palestinian flags or something red from their windows. Many, notably older people, looked out of the window to show solidarity, wearing red and waving to us from above.
And then of course, there is music. We sang with strangers songs of grief and defiance that turned into something like release.
“Viva viva, Palestina, oh bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao ciao,
viva viva, Palestina, from the river to the sea” to the melody of “Bella Ciao”.
For me, these are the joys of activism: creating spaces where we can show solidarity, build community rooted in shared values, and exercise one of our most fundamental rights (and duties): protest against injustice.
Taking to the streets works. Citizen pressure works. We will continue to raise our voices until the violence stops, until the bombardments cease, until humanitarian aid is guaranteed, and until the root causes of the conflict are addressed. Until there is justice, freedom, and recognition for the people of Palestine.
