[MIDDLE EAST] The true measure of a democracy isn’t just what it condemns—it’s what it enables. Twenty months into Israel’s military assault on Gaza, Britain’s continued arms exports and political support have come under fierce criticism, culminating in a proposed bill to launch a public inquiry into the UK’s involvement. From weapons approvals to intelligence-sharing, the evidence suggests not passive alignment, but active complicity. As the death toll in Gaza exceeds 54,000, the question becomes unavoidable: what did Britain know, and what did it choose to do? The push for accountability is no longer just a moral imperative—it is a test of democratic integrity.
A Pattern of Complicity, Not Caution
Despite public statements of concern, Britain’s military and political support for Israel has intensified under successive governments. Between October and December 2023, the Labour government approved more arms export licenses to Israel than the previous Conservative government did in three years. Even after announcing a partial suspension of exports in 2024, ministers admitted to making “exceptions” for components used in the F-35 fighter jet—used heavily in Gaza operations. The contradiction is stark: how can a government claim moral concern while simultaneously fueling the machinery of war?
This dissonance is not new. Britain's previous entanglement in the Iraq War—exposed by the Chilcot inquiry—revealed systemic failures in decision-making and accountability. The present situation mirrors that legacy: secretive decisions, opaque legal justifications, and a disturbing absence of parliamentary scrutiny. If the UK is to break this cycle, a new inquiry must go beyond rhetoric and demand full transparency into the extent of its military and logistical support to Israel since October 2023.
The Questions That Cannot Be Avoided
The proposed inquiry is not about assigning blame retrospectively—it’s about confronting active choices being made in real time. Crucial questions remain unanswered: What specific weapons systems were transferred to Israel? Were British military bases, particularly RAF Akrotiri in Cyprus, used to facilitate logistics or intelligence-sharing? What legal advice did the government receive regarding its obligations under international law—including the Genocide Convention?
The silence from Westminster has been deafening. Officials evade inquiries under the veil of national security, even as footage from Gaza documents a humanitarian catastrophe. The government’s own statements hint at secrecy: Keir Starmer’s remarks during a visit to RAF Akrotiri—“we can’t necessarily tell the world what you’re doing here”—raise serious concerns about activities carried out without public oversight.
Britain’s obligations under international law demand more than bureaucratic compliance. They require active prevention of war crimes and accountability when those obligations are breached. If the government refuses to disclose the facts, it not only undermines democratic accountability but risks being complicit in potential violations of international law.
When Silence Becomes Strategy
Public trust is not a renewable resource—it erodes with every unanswered question and every attempt to suppress scrutiny. The horror in Gaza is not abstract; it is televised, documented, and widely reported. The world is watching, and so is history. Much like the belated reckoning after Iraq, British policymakers risk being judged harshly—not just for what they did, but for what they refused to acknowledge.
An inquiry into Britain’s role is not a partisan demand—it is a democratic necessity. Citizens deserve to know whether their government is upholding its legal and moral duties or quietly enabling crimes against humanity. A failure to investigate now could mean repeating these patterns again—in Yemen, in Sudan, or in the next geopolitical crisis that tests Britain’s moral compass.
What We Think
The call for a public inquiry into the UK’s involvement in Israel’s assault on Gaza is both timely and essential. The evidence of material support—arms sales, intelligence-sharing, and political cover—is too serious to be left unexamined. The government’s refusal to fully suspend exports, while civilian casualties mount, reflects not prudence but political evasion. This moment echoes the post-Iraq reckoning, when institutional denial gave way to public demands for accountability. A transparent, independent investigation is the minimum owed to victims, to history, and to the British public. If Britain is to claim any moral leadership on the global stage, it must start by confronting the truth at home.