Is France’s judiciary turning its back on Palestine?

A recent ruling by France’s highest criminal court has reignited an uncomfortable question about the direction of French jurisprudence when it comes to Palestine, political speech, and the boundaries of legitimate resistance.

According to views expressed by François Burgat, a prominent French academic writing in Al Jazeera, the controversy at the centre of the debate is not an isolated legal technicality, but part of a broader pattern: the gradual tightening of France’s ‘glorification of terrorism’ framework in the aftermath of October 7, 2023, and its expansion into debates extending well beyond security concerns.

In March 2024, the Criminal Chamber of the Court of Cassation upheld the conviction of Mohamed Makni, a local elected official and businessman, for a remark that amounted to a single political sentence: that what is often labelled terrorism is, in his view, an act of resistance.

The statement itself was not a call for violence, nor an endorsement of any organisation, but an expression of interpretation — one that links political violence to the context of occupation.

Yet the consequences were not symbolic. The conviction included a suspended prison sentence and a temporary ban from holding public office. More significantly, it confirmed that France’s highest judicial authority is willing to treat a certain framing of Palestinian resistance not simply as controversial, but as punishable.

This is where the issue moves beyond one individual case. It raises a deeper question about the limits of permissible discourse in contemporary France: can one still, within the bounds of law, connect acts of violence in Israel and Gaza to the long history of occupation and dispossession without being accused of legitimising terrorism?

International law has long recognised that populations under prolonged occupation may resist it. Yet in France today, the legal and political climate appears increasingly reluctant to accommodate even the articulation of that principle when it is applied to Palestine. The shift is subtle but consequential: what was once debated in political or historical terms is now increasingly reframed as a matter of criminal intent.

The broader context is impossible to ignore. Since October 7, French authorities have relied heavily on legislation originally designed to counter jihadist propaganda. Its application, however, has expanded into the policing of speech that challenges dominant narratives about the nature of the conflict. In practice, this has contributed to a narrowing of interpretive space: not only what is said, but how events are framed, is now subject to legal risk.

Supporters of this approach argue that it is necessary to prevent the normalisation of violence. Critics counter that it risks transforming political analysis into a prosecutable offence, particularly when it concerns conflicts where historical context is central to understanding present events.

The Makni ruling, in this sense, is emblematic. It suggests that the judiciary is no longer merely adjudicating acts or direct incitement, but also the conceptual frameworks through which those acts are interpreted.

That shift carries implications far beyond Palestine. It touches on the broader question of how liberal democracies regulate dissenting historical narratives, especially when they intersect with foreign policy alignments.

There is also a political dimension that cannot be dismissed. The perception, whether accurate or not, that French institutions are increasingly aligning with a particular reading of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has fuelled accusations of selective application of legal principles.

Such perceptions deepen mistrust, particularly among citizens of immigrant backgrounds and among those who view the Palestinian question through an anti-colonial lens.

Ultimately, the issue is not whether one agrees with the interpretation expressed in the Makni case, but whether the expression of such an interpretation should fall within the scope of criminal law. The answer being given by French courts today appears to be increasingly restrictive.

That raises a final, uncomfortable question: in contemporary France, is it still possible to state that occupation produces resistance without crossing into criminal liability?

The Court of Cassation has, at least in this instance, signalled a troubling direction. And it is this direction — more than any single verdict — that is now being debated far beyond France’s borders.