The Israeli parliament (the Knesset) has approved amendments to the penal code that have triggered a broad wave of criticism, as they directly target Palestinians by introducing the death penalty in a legal framework designed to facilitate both its imposition and execution. The law applies to Palestinians across all legal classifications: citizens within the Green Line, residents of Jerusalem subject to civil law, and inhabitants of the territories occupied in 1967 who fall under military law. This amendment must be understood as part of a longer continuum of policy pursued by an occupying government intent on entrenching permanent control over Palestinian land. It operates within a legal architecture that differentiates between Palestinians in the occupied territories and Israeli settlers, as well as between Palestinian citizens of Israel and Jewish citizens, while reserving the right to self-determination over this land exclusively for Jews.
Far from representing a mere tightening of punitive measures, the amendment extends a broader official posture that devalues Palestinian lives, institutionalises racial discrimination, and advances the annexation of Palestinian territory, while simultaneously denying the reality of an overtly unlawful occupation. This posture has become increasingly explicit under the current right-wing government led by Benjamin Netanyahu, and has become more evident in the aftermath of 7th October. The significance of this amendment lies not only in introducing a harsher penalty, but in formally legalising practices that have long existed on the ground. It effectively elevates them from the realm of de facto implementation to that of explicit legal sanction. For decades, the application of the death penalty within Israel’s legal system remained highly restricted and largely frozen, confined to the narrowest of circumstances. The current shift signals an acceleration toward a more rigid legal regime governing Palestinians, one that aligns with Israel’s evolving political ambitions in the Palestinian territories and toward their Palestinian population.
Far from representing a mere tightening of punitive measures, the amendment extends a broader official posture that devalues Palestinian lives, institutionalises racial discrimination, and advances the annexation of Palestinian territory, while simultaneously denying the reality of an overtly unlawful occupation.
The amendment to the penal code mandates the execution of Palestinians by hanging, whether through Israeli civil courts within the Green Line or through military courts, which exercise jurisdiction over Palestinians in the territories occupied in 1967. In effect, this constitutes a form of de facto annexation. Under international law, the Knesset holds no authority to legislate for occupied Palestinian territory, yet this is part of a sustained policy that Israeli authorities have been advancing for years. In practice, this dual legal regime has already taken shape: Israeli civil law is applied to Jewish settlers residing in settlements built on occupied Palestinian land, while Palestinians living on that same land remain subject to military rule. In recent years, particularly under the current government, there has been a concerted push to expand the reach of civil law into the occupied territories, gradually displacing the military legal framework. This shift reflects a systematic denial of the reality of occupation and an effort to normalize an inherently anomalous and unlawful status quo. The latest amendment fits squarely within this trajectory.
This recent amendment to Israel’s penal code is explicitly directed at Palestinians, irrespective of where they reside, whether within the Green Line, in Jerusalem, the West Bank, or Gaza. It thus extends a long trajectory of practices and legislation that systematically discriminate against Palestinians across this land. While the discriminatory nature of the amendment is not overtly spelled out, it is unmistakable. The text frames the offense in terms of acts committed in the context of “denying the existence of the State of Israel”, a politically charged formulation that effectively excludes Jewish perpetrators from its scope. This comes despite the absence of a clear and precise legal definition of terrorism in Israeli law, under which Palestinian actions are routinely classified. The resulting ambiguity renders decision-making under this amendment deeply arbitrary and dismissive of Palestinian lives, reflecting a broader pattern embedded in Israeli practice. Israel has long pursued a policy of extrajudicial killing against Palestinians, whether through targeted assassinations or indiscriminate use of lethal force on the ground. In the West Bank alone, more than 1,100 Palestinians have been killed in field incidents over the past two years. The amendment reinforces this trajectory by allowing courts to impose the death penalty by simple majority rather than unanimity, to treat it as a mandatory sentence, and to do so even without a request from the prosecution, despite the irreversible nature of such a punishment. It unfolds at a time when settler violence and acts widely described as terrorism against Palestinians in the occupied territories are intensifying, drawing explicit concern from governments and international organizations. Yet these developments continue to meet with deliberate official disregard in Israel, in service of an increasingly explicit political agenda underpinning the occupation.
In practice, this dual legal regime has already taken shape: Israeli civil law is applied to Jewish settlers residing in settlements built on occupied Palestinian land, while Palestinians living on that same land remain subject to military rule.
State-sanctioned racial discrimination in Israel is not a recent development. The bias reflected in the latest amendment is rooted in a broader legislative architecture that has evolved over the lifetime of the state. It dates back to the Law of Return of 1950, which grants every Jew the right to immigrate to Israel and obtain citizenship, while denying the same right to Palestinians who were forcibly expelled from their homes. That same year, the Absentees’ Property Law enabled the state to confiscate the property of those displaced Palestinians, transforming it into state-owned land. At the same time, Jewish individuals are granted legal and material incentives to settle in Palestinian territories designated by Israeli authorities as “state land” in the occupied territories, policies widely regarded under international law as unlawful forms of population transfer. This framework was further reinforced by the 2003 Citizenship and Entry into Israel Law, an extension in spirit of the Law of Return, which bars Palestinians from Gaza, the West Bank, or the diaspora from obtaining residency or citizenship through marriage to Israeli citizens, a restriction applied almost exclusively to Palestinians, in contrast to other foreign nationals.
The 2018 Nation-State Law stands as perhaps the clearest codification of this hierarchy, enshrining the right to self-determination on this land as exclusively Jewish, despite the significant Palestinian presence. Taken together, these laws, despite their differing contexts, operate within a single legal order that explicitly privileges Jewish citizens, many of whom arrived as settlers, over Palestinians, the indigenous population of the land. Against this backdrop, the death penalty law emerges not as an aberration, but as a logical extension of an entrenched system. This trajectory is further reinforced by public opinion. Discrimination against Palestinians is not confined to state institutions or legislative texts; it is also reflected in segments of Jewish Israeli society. Multiple opinion polls indicate that support for imposing the death penalty on Palestinians exceeds 60 percent under normal circumstances, rising to around 80 percent in the context of the events of 7th October. Such figures point to a broader rightward shift within Israeli society, one that increasingly targets not only Palestinian rights, but the very presence and future of Palestinians on this land.
Taken together, these laws, despite their differing contexts, operate within a single legal order that explicitly privileges Jewish citizens, many of whom arrived as settlers, over Palestinians, the indigenous population of the land. Against this backdrop, the death penalty law emerges not as an aberration, but as a logical extension of an entrenched system.
The amendment to Israel’s penal code mandating the execution of Palestinians unfolds against three underlying realities that cast serious doubt on its stated purpose. The first is the sharp escalation in unlawful killings and the targeting of Palestinians in both Gaza and the West Bank. Prior to 2023, the annual number of Palestinians killed by Israel in what were considered “normal” circumstances did not exceed roughly 70. Since the current right-wing government led by Benjamin Netanyahu came to power at the start of that year, the figure in the West Bank alone has risen to more than 350 annually. In Gaza, the toll has reached tens of thousands over the course of the past three years of war. The second concerns the dramatic rise in the number of detained and imprisoned Palestinians. Since 7th October, that number has surpassed 10,000, drawn from both the West Bank and Gaza. Reports consistently document the use of severe methods of torture and degrading treatment. More than 80 Palestinians have died in Israeli prisons during this period, as a result of torture or medical neglect, with additional cases widely believed to have occurred but not yet publicly disclosed within Israeli detention facilities. The third reality is reflected in a broad consensus across multiple Israeli studies: the use of lethal force or execution has not proven to be an effective deterrent in dealing with Palestinians, based on decades of experience. Taken together, these factors suggest that the amendment is not primarily about deterrence. Rather, it signals a deepening disregard for Palestinian lives and an intensification of systematic discrimination. More fundamentally, it appears aimed at entrenching a new political and legal reality, one that seeks to eclipse the very framework of occupation, while denying Palestinians their basic rights to dignity, to remain on their land, and to pursue freedom and self-determination.
Although the latest amendment does not apply retroactively, meaning it will not affect Palestinians previously charged or convicted of what Israel classifies as “terrorist acts”, parallel legislation is already advancing through its second and third readings in the Knesset and is expected to be adopted in the near future. This proposed measure specifically targets those detained from Gaza in the aftermath of 7th October. More than 2,000 Gazans are believed to fall under this category. They are being held under conditions marked by opacity and concealment, facing an uncertain fate. The bodies of a number of detainees have already been returned to Gaza; some are reported to have been summarily executed, others to have died under torture. In several cases, the identities of the deceased remained unknown.
More fundamentally, it appears aimed at entrenching a new political and legal reality, one that seeks to eclipse the very framework of occupation, while denying Palestinians their basic rights to dignity, to remain on their land, and to pursue freedom and self-determination.
Opposition within Israel to the introduction of the death penalty for Palestinians has been limited and largely subdued. Where it exists, it tends to focus less on the substance of the law than on the potential damage to Israel’s international image, long promoted in Western discourse as a “beacon of democracy” in the Middle East, despite the structural contradictions posed by the reality of occupation. The law has also drawn wide international criticism, including from some of Israel’s Western allies, a number of whom have hinted at the possibility of punitive measures. It has likewise been rejected by several Arab and Muslim-majority states, including some that maintain formal relations with Israel. Legal challenges have already been filed before the Israeli Supreme Court, contesting the law’s constitutionality. Among them is a petition submitted by Adalah, alongside other human rights organizations and members of the Knesset. The Court has been given until May 24 to consider these petitions. Historically, the Supreme Court has not been known for delivering substantive justice for Palestinians and has faced sustained criticism from both Israeli and international human rights groups over perceived bias. While it has, on occasion, struck down legislation passed by the Knesset, such interventions have typically concerned issues peripheral to the core dynamics of the Israeli–Palestinian relationship—such as asylum policy, the conscription of ultra-Orthodox Jews, or certain aspects of the “reasonableness” standard. Yet the significance of this law ultimately extends beyond its judicial fate or the scope of international reaction. Its deeper meaning lies in what it reveals rather than what it changes. It does not mark a rupture with existing policy, but rather lays bare its underlying logic with greater clarity and candor. The relationship with Palestinians is thus recast, from one of control and administration to one of legalised exclusion and punishment, where the taking of life becomes embedded within an explicit legal framework, rather than remaining confined to practices on the ground. In this sense, the amendment presents a test for the international community: whether it will confront this shift as a matter of legal and moral consequence requiring tangible action, or continue to respond with little more than political statements and rhetorical threats of sanctions against Israel as an occupying power, while the limits of protection for a population living under occupation, and subject to increasingly severe practices, grow ever more apparent.
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