Joe Catron\Flickr\CC
Children and youth rally in Gaza in solidarity with Palestinian prisoners in Israeli jails.

Who protects the poor in their fight for Palestine?

Published Thursday, May 15, 2025 - 16:49

Early in April Nicaragua surprised the world by withdrawing from the case South Africa filed against Israel at the ICJ, only to reverse course and rejoin shortly after.

The small Central American nation, with a territory of just over 130,000 square km, was the first country to officially join South Africa's genocide case. It even filed a separate, significant case against Germany, accusing it of aiding the Israeli military and thereby opening a crucial legal front against genocide enablers.

Under a repressive left-wing government led jointly by Daniel Ortega and his wife Rosario Murillo, Nicaragua has little official media reach or international influence.

Nevertheless, the government announced on the evening of April 10, that it would resume legal proceedings in support of South Africa. As of this writing, however, it remains unclear how exactly this will be carried out.

Nicaragua has a proud legacy of standing up to US imperialism. In 1986, it famously secured a landmark ICJ ruling condemning the US for supporting Contra militias that carried out terrorist attacks, laid mines, and committed atrocities during Nicaragua’s civil war. That decision required the US to pay reparations for violating the bilateral Treaty of Friendship, Commerce, and Navigation.

Despite fierce US opposition, Nicaragua managed to pass a UN General Assembly resolution urging Washington to comply—supported by the vast majority of nations, with only the US, Israel, and El Salvador voting against it.

Given this anti-imperialist history, Nicaragua’s recent waffling is puzzling, especially at a sensitive moment, with Israel’s July deadline to respond to South Africa’s accusations fast approaching.

While the withdrawal doesn't affect the legal standing of the case, it offers ammunition for Israeli propaganda. Israeli Foreign Minister Gideon Sa’ar quickly spun the move as a sign that even supporters of the case now see the accusations as "unfair or exaggerated.”

Pressure and manipulation

The real significance of Nicaragua’s brief withdrawal from South Africa’s ICJ case lies not in legal impact, but in the warning it sends: a signal to Palestine’s allies about growing US and Israeli efforts to weaken the emerging global coalition demanding accountability for the ongoing atrocities in Gaza.

This also includes countries that severed or froze diplomatic ties with Israel.

At the heart of this coalition is the Hague Group comprising nine countries. In January, it announced its support for the International Criminal Court in the face of Israeli-American threats. The group includes South Africa, Malaysia, Colombia, Bolivia, Cuba, Honduras, Namibia, Senegal, and Belize.

They’ve since been joined by Mexico, Chile, Ireland, Spain, Turkey, Libya, and the Maldives in supporting South Africa’s genocide case. Countries like Norway, Brazil, and Venezuela have also backed various boycotts and economic sanctions initiatives against Israel.

Coordinated pushback is already underway. In September, Axios reported on an Israeli lobbying effort targeting US lawmakers to pressure South Africa to drop its ICJ case, warning of "serious consequences" should the legal campaign continue.

Simultaneously, Israeli and US media outlets have run an ongoing smear campaign against these countries for the past 10 months, highlighting their left-leaning governments, tying them to Iran’s support for Palestinian resistance, and accusing them of antisemitism.

An article in The Jerusalem Strategic Tribune even called for monitoring the status of Jewish communities in Chile, Cuba, Venezuela, and Nicaragua. Meanwhile, the Institute for the Study of Global Antisemitism and Policy claimed that Iran and Qatar were financially backing South Africa and its allies in their legal pursuit of Israel.

Nicaragua, in particular, has faced heightened diplomatic and media pressure. The United Nations Human Rights Council/OHCHR recently extended its investigation into the Ortega-Murillo government’s crackdown on political and press freedoms.

A report by UN experts named 54 officials responsible for systemic abuses, accusing the regime of seeking impunity by withdrawing from international institutions. This followed a constitutional amendment that formalized the co-presidency of Ortega and Murillo.

While Nicaragua’s authoritarian record complicates the picture, especially given that other pro-Palestinian nations like Brazil, Chile, and Colombia backed the U.N. probe into its human rights abuses, Washington’s recent actions suggest a pattern.

After Nicaragua severed ties with Israel, the Biden administration revived investigations into alleged Russian intelligence outposts and labor rights violations in the country.

A case study in international dynamics

Nicaragua's explanation for its withdrawal—"the rising financial burden of litigation"—further supports the likelihood that it succumbed to external pressure, especially given the speed of its reversal.

It's also plausible that the move was tactical, perhaps intended to reset its legal footing or maneuver  amid mounting pressure.

Initially, Nicaragua invoked Article 62 of the ICJ Statute to join South Africa's case, which allows third-party states to intervene if they have a legal interest directly affected by the outcome. However, this article primarily applies to directly affected parties, in this case, Palestine.

Other states joining the case have done so under Article 63, which permits intervention by any state party to a treaty, like the Genocide Convention, when the court’s decision could influence the interpretation of that treaty. This legal pathway is more appropriate and universally applicable.

Therefore, it’s entirely possible that Nicaragua’s withdrawal and re-entry were procedural maneuvers to rejoin the case under Article 63, aligning with the approach of other supportive countries.

Any state party to the Genocide Convention may still file to intervene until the July 28 deadline—the final date for Israel to submit its written response to South Africa’s complaint. After that, the ICJ is expected to move swiftly into a series of hearings leading to a judgment.

Later in April, Murillo proclaimed in her regular media appearance: "Long live Nicaragua, long live Palestine—two beacons of freedom and progress." Yet as symbolic as Nicaragua’s involvement may be, its role is not the core of the global legal battle for Palestinian justice.

The case highlights a broader misunderstanding that international legal action is abstract or symbolic. In truth, it reflects shifting geopolitical power and provides a platform for coordinated political, legal, and economic campaigns.

Those who scoff at the legal struggle for Palestine forget that it serves as a powerful catalyst for broader action, far from detached from politics. Although geographically distant countries may currently lead this front, the legal battlefield is a central arena where shifting global power dynamics come into sharp relief. 

It reflects the political, diplomatic, and economic engagement of states that have chosen to confront Israeli impunity through the most principled tools available.

This legal resistance also reflects the maturity of states’ academic and research institutions, and the readiness of their legal and diplomatic elites to apply theoretical jurisprudence to real-world injustice. This paves new legal paths towards accountability for Israel and anchors global opposition to both Zionist violence and American arrogance in the solid ground of international law.

Egypt and other Arab countries that claim to champion the Palestinian cause could have—and still can—play a meaningful role here. They could financially and legally support the states backing South Africa’s genocide case, particularly those in the Global South that are most exposed to economic and political pressure. 

As those pressures intensify, from economic coercion to political isolation, so too must our preparedness to shield allies from retreat or collapse under the weight of retaliation.

There is also a practical, immediate avenue for action. These states can formally join South Africa’s case before the July deadline for Israel’s final submissions. Alternatively, they could file new motions seeking urgent provisional measures to halt the acts of genocide currently unfolding in Gaza. 

This includes the mass destruction and forced displacement of Palestinians from Rafah and the broader campaign to erase the territory’s demographic identity.

Such participation would help distribute the burden borne by states like South Africa, Nicaragua, and Chile, relieving pressure and amplifying the legal offensive.

“The coward sees caution in cowardice,” wrote Al-Mutanabbi. In moments of moral clarity and urgent necessity, some will retreat behind nihilistic rationalizations for inaction, minimizing the legal front’s potential or warning vaguely of diplomatic consequences. 

Claims that the Camp David Accords bar Egypt from suing Israel are both legally incorrect and politically self-serving. They ignore the way Israel’s actions today, especially the destruction of Rafah and the planned severing of aid corridors, pose a direct and historic threat to Egypt’s eastern border and national security. 

Netanyahu’s brazen lie, uttered from the Oval Office, that Israel never imposed a siege on Gaza, was more than deception—it was a veiled indictment of Cairo.

If this moment doesn’t warrant action, then what does? What red line remains that Israel has not already crossed?


(*) A version of this article first appeared in Arabic on April 14, 2025.

Published opinions reflect the views of its authors, not necessarily those of Al Manassa.