Why Intent Matters: The Legal Thresholds Behind the Most Serious International Allegations

Powerful legal terms are increasingly invoked in discussions of conflict. But let’s examine why these labels carry strict legal definitions, why intent remains central, and how misapplication can distort both public understanding and judicial accountability.

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There's something uniquely troubling about watching a word lose its meaning in real time. 'Genocide' once conjured images of the Holocaust, Rwanda, Srebrenica- systematic campaigns to exterminate entire peoples. Now it's become a rhetorical weapon deployed with alarming frequency, nowhere more contentiously than in discussions of Israel's military operations in Gaza.

The debate has fractured into sharply opposing camps. Organisations like Amnesty International and the International Association of Genocide Scholars have concluded that Israel is committing genocide. On the other side, legal scholars and military experts argue that whilst Israel's conduct may raise concerns about proportionality and humanitarian law, it fundamentally doesn't meet the stringent legal requirements for genocide. Recent analyses from The Blaze and the American Jewish Committee make similar arguments grounded in the specific legal requirements of the Genocide Convention.

But what does genocide actually mean in international law, and why does the distinction matter so much?

The Legal Architecture

The 1948 Genocide Convention defines genocide with precision: acts committed 'with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such'. That final phrase—'as such'—is crucial. Genocide isn't simply killing civilians during war, however tragic. It requires specific intent (dolus specialis) to destroy a protected group because of their group identity.

This isn't semantic hairsplitting. Wars inevitably produce civilian casualties, even when combatants follow international humanitarian law. Genocide, by contrast, targets civilians because of who they are. The difference is intent, and intent is everything. The International Court of Justice emphasised in Bosnia v Serbia (2007) that proving genocide requires demonstrating that 'the perpetrator had the goal to destroy the group targeted in whole or in part'. Civilian deaths alone don't meet this threshold. Neither does disproportionate force or even war crimes.

Stefan Talmon, an international law professor at the University of Bonn, told Euronews that whilst Israel may be committing war crimes, this differs fundamentally from genocide.

The Intent Problem

The Holocaust left extensive documentary evidence of genocidal intent: the Wannsee Conference, Himmler's speeches, systematic records of the Final Solution. Rwanda's genocide was preceded by explicit radio broadcasts calling for the extermination of Tutsis. Srebrenica involved the deliberate separation and execution of Bosnian Muslim men and boys.

What comparable evidence exists for Gaza? Proponents point to inflammatory statements by Israeli officials after 7 October—Defence Minister Yoav Gallant's reference to fighting 'human animals' and imposing a 'complete siege'. These statements are troubling and deserve scrutiny. But they don't clearly articulate intent to destroy Palestinians as a group. They reflect anger at Hamas and determination to eliminate its threat—objectives that, however severely pursued, remain distinguishable from genocidal intent.

Moreover, intent must be assessed through actions, not just words. If Israel truly intended to destroy Gaza's Palestinian population, why facilitate humanitarian aid? According to multiple sources, Israel has facilitated more than 2 million tonnes of aid into Gaza, issued advance warnings of military operations, and maintained that its target is Hamas, not Palestinian civilians. States conducting genocide don't typically propose post-conflict reconstruction packages for the group they're supposedly trying to destroy.

John Spencer from West Point's Modern War Institute, who has embedded with Israeli forces multiple times, points to Israeli statements that 'our fight is not with the people of Gaza' and to efforts to replace destroyed infrastructure. These actions may be inadequate, they may be motivated by self-interest or international pressure, but they're inconsistent with genocidal intent.

When Accusations Become Strategic

The counter-argument from organisations like Amnesty International suggests these measures are fig leaves designed to provide international cover. But this requires believing that Israel's government, military, and civil society are engaged in an elaborate conspiracy to disguise genocide as counterterrorism—all whilst maintaining democratic institutions, hosting vocal internal dissent, and cooperating with international media.

Perhaps the most concerning aspect isn't about Israel at all—it's about what happens when genocide accusations become strategic tools rather than legal assessments. When the charge is deployed for political advantage rather than legal precision, several things happen, none of them good.

First, the term loses its moral force. If every conflict involving civilian casualties becomes genocide, the word ceases to signify anything specific. We're left without language to distinguish the Holocaust from the Battle of Mosul, Rwanda from Aleppo.

Second, it creates perverse incentives. If states believe they'll be accused of genocide regardless of how carefully they conduct military operations, why invest in precision weapons, advance warnings, or humanitarian corridors?

Third, it undermines international law itself. The ICJ's legitimacy depends on principled application of legal standards. The American Jewish Committee notes that membership in the International Association of Genocide Scholars requires nothing more than a $30 fee, and the organisation has been infiltrated by fictitious members including Adolf Hitler and Darth Vader. Yet major media outlets cite IAGS resolutions as authoritative pronouncements from 'genocide experts'.

The Fractured Expert Consensus

The genocide question has produced starkly divergent answers from credible experts. The IAGS passed a resolution in 2025 with 86% support stating that Israel's policies meet the legal definition. A UN Commission of Inquiry concluded that Israeli authorities committed four of the five genocidal acts defined in the Convention. Amnesty International's December 2024 report concluded Israel carried out genocidal acts with specific intent.

Yet other experts reject this characterisation entirely. Military analysts emphasise that the legal definition depends critically on intent. Legal scholars argue that without express governmental statements of intent to destroy Palestinians, the genocide threshold isn't met. Former ICC prosecutor Luis Moreno Ocampo took a middle position, describing the siege as potentially genocidal whilst acknowledging complexity in the legal analysis.

NPR's examination of the debate interviewed both genocide scholar Omer Bartov, who concluded Israel is committing genocide, and military expert John Spencer, who rejected that conclusion. Both are credible experts examining the same evidence- yet they reached opposite conclusions.

Words Matter

At its heart, this debate is about whether words retain meaning or become weapons. 'Genocide' means something specific in international law, something distinct from war crimes, collective punishment, or disproportionate force. These distinctions aren't legal technicalities- they're essential to maintaining a framework where different violations receive appropriate responses.

The Israeli-Palestinian conflict involves sufficient actual violations, legitimate grievances, and urgent humanitarian needs to deserve serious engagement. It doesn't require exaggeration, rhetorical escalation, or legal distortion. We can acknowledge the tragedy in Gaza, criticise Israeli policy, and support Palestinian rights without misusing the term genocide.

The ICJ won't issue a final ruling on South Africa's case until 2028 at the earliest. When it does, it will apply the Genocide Convention's specific requirements. Those requirements remain demanding, as they should be. Genocide is the gravest crime in international law, and maintaining the term's precision serves the cause of prevention and accountability.

If Israel is committing genocide, it should face the consequences prescribed by international law. If it isn't, calling it genocide anyway doesn't help Palestinians, doesn't strengthen international law, and doesn't prevent future atrocities. It simply makes the next real genocide harder to identify and stop because we've exhausted our most serious vocabulary on cases that don't meet the definition.

When accusations of the gravest crime in international law produce such profound disagreement amongst credible experts, what we're witnessing may not be legal clarity but rather the weaponisation of legal language itself. The stakes- for international law, for future conflicts, for the meaning of genocide itself- could hardly be higher.