To become a propaganda asset for an extremist organisation, one need not pledge allegiance to it, accept its money, or even agree with its ideology. Sometimes all it takes is an educated person with good intentions, absolute confidence in his own righteousness, and an extraordinary talent for avoiding inconvenient questions. This is the useful idiot in his purest form. He is not necessarily unintelligent, and certainly not necessarily a bad person. The problem is that his conscience works considerably faster than his critical faculties.
In October 2026, thousands once again marched through London, Berlin, and other European cities, carrying Palestinian flags and demanding an end to the suffering of civilians in Gaza. Many were moved by sincere human concern, and that concern deserves respect. The deaths of civilians, the destruction, and the suffering in Gaza must not be dismissed. Nor is strong criticism of the Israeli government anything other than a legitimate position. Yet within this broad movement stands a particularly vocal figure for whom solidarity with Palestinians has become a blanket exemption from examining the facts or from the moral duty to distinguish between a population, a government, and a terrorist organisation.
His first defining characteristic is selective historical memory. As far as he is concerned, history began the day images of Gaza’s devastation appeared on his screen. The massacre carried out by Hamas in Israel on 7 October 2023, the abduction of civilians, and the deliberate decision to launch that attack almost disappear from his account. Mention them, and he immediately insists upon the need for context. Curiously, only one side of the conflict seems entitled to historical complexity, while the other is expected to apologise even for its existence.
Another detail makes this spectacle particularly uncomfortable for Europe. Some of the protesters who so casually invoke the language of genocide come from countries whose governments, institutions, or citizens helped Nazi Germany carry out the Holocaust. Six million Jews were systematically murdered by the Nazi regime and its allies and collaborators. There were courageous people who resisted and saved lives, but the extermination of European Jewry was also enabled by complicity, conformity, and silence. Where, one might ask, was the same public passion for Jewish lives while that genocide was unfolding? Naturally, today’s demonstrators were not yet born, and dissent under Nazi rule was hardly comparable to marching safely through a modern European capital. No one inherits personal guilt. Yet that history should inspire humility, not selective outrage. Those who shout accusations of genocide with absolute certainty might first ask whether they have understood the genocide committed on their own continent. The irony is bitter: Europe has devoted decades to teaching the lessons of the Holocaust, yet some of its most enthusiastic moral lecturers appear to have learned remarkably little.
His second characteristic is an addiction to slogans. The conflict in the Middle East is shaped by history, religion, borders, national traumas, political decisions, and failures of leadership on more than one side. None of that, however, fits comfortably into a video lasting ten seconds. So it is compressed into a short declaration, preferably in forceful English and capital letters. The slogan provides an instant sense of moral superiority. Its price is the loss of any distinction between demanding protection for civilians and granting political legitimacy to those who have built their power through violence against civilians.
There is something almost surreal about this spectacle. Some of the loudest demonstrators were raised in societies that taught them to cherish personal freedom, equality before the law, women’s rights, and the freedom to dissent. Yet their enthusiasm sometimes leads them to excuse movements that reject those very principles. They march under banners they have barely examined, embrace slogans whose consequences they have not considered, and speak with absolute certainty about a conflict whose history they struggle to explain. One is tempted to wonder how many could even locate Gaza on an unmarked map, let alone distinguish Hamas from the civilians living under its rule. Their indignation appears boundless; their curiosity, rather less so. Geography can be learned. Intellectual laziness, particularly when dressed up as moral superiority, is a much more stubborn problem.
His third characteristic is morality selected for convenience. The same protester may present himself as a passionate defender of women’s rights, freedom of expression, LGBTQ rights, and individual liberty, while displaying a peculiar indulgence towards an Islamist movement whose political agenda is profoundly at odds with those values. This does not mean that everyone demonstrating for Palestinians supports Hamas. Quite the opposite. Anyone genuinely committed to human rights should be among the first to demand that the people of Gaza be freed from political coercion, repression, and the silencing of internal criticism. Human rights are not a menu from which one selects only the dishes that are easiest to swallow.
The events of 23 October 2026 in Jordan offer a grim reminder of the stakes. Gunmen opened fire on mourners attending a funeral at a Greek Orthodox church in Hamoud, in Karak governorate, killing seven people and wounding dozens. Jordanian authorities described the attack as an act of terrorism perpetrated by extremists. The attackers’ organisational affiliation has not been established, and there is no evidence linking this particular crime to Hamas. Those distinctions matter. So does the appalling image of people being gunned down at a place of worship. Whatever the investigation ultimately reveals, the atrocity is a stark warning about the danger posed by violent extremism and contempt for religious freedom.
Here is a question for the European demonstrator who excuses religious fanaticism while proclaiming himself a champion of tolerance. Why does he imagine that an extremist who rejects freedom of conscience, the equality of women, or the right to dissent would make an exception for him simply because he waved the right flag? A protest placard is not a passport to safety in a world governed by fanaticism. The liberties that allow him to march, criticise and live as he chooses are precisely the liberties that authoritarian extremists seek to destroy. Those who romanticise such forces should consider an uncomfortable possibility: today’s enthusiastic apologist could become tomorrow’s victim. This is not an accusation against Muslims or the people of Gaza. It is a warning to anyone foolish enough to confuse sympathy for civilians with indulgence towards extremists.
And here comes the fact that spoils the simple script. In March 2025, Palestinians in northern Gaza took to the streets to protest against the continuation of the war and against Hamas rule. They demanded the chance to live in safety and called for the organisation to relinquish power. Theirs was an authentic Palestinian voice, one that required considerably more courage than waving a flag in a secure European square. Yet some who claim to speak for Palestinians in Europe seem remarkably reluctant to listen when Palestinians themselves refuse to repeat the approved slogans. Apparently, their ideal Palestinian is the one who confirms what they already believe.
His fourth characteristic is a passionate attachment to freedom of speech, provided nobody questions the verdict. On university campuses, across social media and sometimes in the streets, pressure mounts to decide in advance who is good and who is evil. Questions about Hamas’s responsibility, the future of governance in Gaza, Israel’s security, or the possibility of coexistence are treated as immoral distractions. A protest ostensibly born in defence of human rights can thus become a space where independent thought is regarded as betrayal.
His fifth characteristic is an unshakeable conviction that nobody is influencing him. This may be the most entertaining illusion of all. Europe faces foreign influence campaigns, online propaganda and deliberate efforts to exploit social tensions. That is not proof that every demonstration is orchestrated from abroad, and it certainly does not justify accusing individual protesters of being paid. Precisely for that reason, sweeping accusations should be avoided. Nevertheless, someone who never asks who is distributing a message, how an image has been edited or why certain facts have been omitted can become a remarkably efficient link in a chain of influence without ever having been recruited. Technology does the rest, while the algorithm supplies the applause.
His sixth characteristic is indifference towards those who pay the price on Europe’s own streets. When criticism of the Israeli government becomes harassment of local Jews, intimidation outside synagogues or collective blame directed at an entire community, it is no longer a protest against government policy. It has crossed a clear moral boundary. The freedom to demonstrate is a fundamental right and must be vigorously protected, even when the message is deeply offensive to Israel. The same determination must protect Jews, Muslims, and everyone else from threats and violence. A democracy should never have to choose between freedom of expression and the rule of law.
Indian readers hardly need to be told that it is possible to condemn harm to civilians while refusing to legitimise terrorism. A country long accustomed to security threats, international disputes, and geopolitical pressure understands the distinction between compassion and strategic naivety. Israel can be held accountable for its decisions while Hamas is also held accountable for its actions and for the price paid by the people of Gaza. A serious moral position does not grant anyone immunity from scrutiny.
The greatest danger is not the mere presence of angry demonstrators. Civil protest is one of the most valuable achievements of a free society. The danger begins when anger replaces knowledge, loyalty to a political tribe becomes more important than truth, and solidarity with the vulnerable requires the deliberate erasure of those who oppress them. One can oppose war, hunger and the deaths of children without romanticising Hamas as a liberation movement or treating every Jew in Europe as a representative of the Israeli government.
Ultimately, the useful idiot is not defined by how loudly he shouts but by how many questions he refuses to ask. He marches in the name of justice but recoils from complexity. He speaks of freedom but avoids those who think differently. He claims to want to save Gaza, yet may help drown out the voices of Gazans who wish to be free of Hamas’s rule. A free society has ample room for the critical, angry, and determined protester. It has no need for the protester who has surrendered his judgement to a slogan. And for the bored enthusiast who applauds extremists without understanding what they stand for, the term useful idiot may be an undeserved compliment. Ignorance is not a shield against the fanaticism one has helped excuse. When conscience stops asking questions, it ceases to be a compass and becomes a megaphone.