De Vogli: Speaking out on Gaza brings backlash – but the wave of solidarity surprised me.. and this is how we got more than 15000 signatures in days.
Interviewed by: Farah Maraqa
Professor Roberto De Vogli transformed a conference rejection into a powerful campaign that mobilized three major medical associations to break their silence on the Genocide in Gaza, creating significant impact and inspiring healthcare professionals worldwide.
Watch or read the full interview below:
Full Interview: transcript
Your campaign started with a rejection letter. Could you walk us through what happened next?
It all started with a proposed abstract about Gaza that was rejected. It is a situation where you should, first wonder whether the scientific merit of your work is valuable. But then I started to suspect the rejection wasn’t about scientific merit. The abstract was about “breaking the selective silence on the genocide in Gaza” in a large conference supposed to address global health issues like a genocide, right? so I became suspicious that something was going on because when I asked the conference organizers: “how many other abstracts there were on the genocide in Gaza?” There were some evasive answers, so I pursued this further.
Instead of accepting the rejection, I organized a campaign —not on my abstract, which was fairly unimportant— but on the topic itself. I felt that the selective silence of public health associations and academic associations deserved further scrutiny and action. We collected 15,000 signatures from different people, professors, academic professionals, and we pushed many academic associations to revise their policy statements and acknowledge the genocide in Gaza.
How did you approach this strategically? Who did you contact first, and why?
It was just me and Jonathan Montomoli, the founder of Rimini for Gaza, but then I started contacting people, first the closest professionals and colleagues I know.
I think one of the key strategies was to get signatures from top scholars in the field of genocide studies, public health, Middle East studies, Historians and so on. Among the first signatories were Ilan Pape, Omer Bartov, journalists like George Monbiot from The Guardian, writers like Nassim Taleb, Martin Shaw, and others. I think this was pivotal because it showed that there was merit in what we were raising as an issue and it needed to be addressed.
What made this strategy work when many assume medical associations simply won’t move on Palestine?
Public health advocacy actually works. We hear lots of people saying petitions don’t work, demonstrations are useless. In reality, they do work, but it’s important to join efforts and be determined and persistent.
I think one of the key strategies was to collect opinion makers’ signatures, but what made this letter effective was that we used an evidence-based approach. We used all our research skills to expose the injustice and the genocide in Gaza, letting facts and science speak for themselves, instead of sharing our opinion. I feel that this was very important for the effort.
What is also important is to organize a campaign with some feasible objectives. So, for example, now, we have collected signatures for the liberation of Dr. Hussam Abu Safiya and all health professionals that are in the Israeli prisons. But the distance between our efforts and those in power who can concede this type of change is very problematic, right? In the case of public health associations, we almost belong to them, so it was much easier. So when thinking about strategy, it’s important to set up feasible goals and try to involve people in achieving these goals.
How did you navigate the possible backlash? Palestine advocacy feels for many people like a minefield they think they can’t afford to sacrifice themselves to.
I totally understand the concerns of especially young professionals, researchers on soft funding, job loss etc., it’s not a trivial issue. In fact, I got lots of heat. I got personally attacked and insulted. That’s how it is when you express solidarity in a very vocal and clear way—you may have some undesirable effects. But I think that the biggest price you pay when there’s a genocide and you’re silent before it is the loss of your soul. You lose the ability to look at yourself in the mirror. So although I understand that there are costs to these actions, it’s also important to understand what the costs of being silent are.
But it wasn’t only “bad things” that happened. You know, we don’t know whether my scientific abstract wasn’t scientifically sound enough, but eventually I got published in The Lancet twice. The same topic was published in another article in Globalization and Health, and I also got a book published on the same topic, right?
Bystanders No More is all about the movable middle, and many mid-career clinicians and professionals feel inspired by actions like yours, but also think, “I don’t have visibility, I don’t know influential academics, I can’t afford losing my job…”. Which parts of what you did actually required none of those?
I mean, we live in an era of unprecedented challenges, but at the same time unprecedented opportunities for sharing opinions and facts, even basic scientific facts on Gaza- like this Lancet study that shows a collapse of 35 years of life expectancy in Gaza in a single year. A study that should be in the headlines of every single newspaper, but also social media outlets and platforms. I don’t think someone can be fired for just showing that a Lancet study shows there has been a 35 years collapse of life expectancy in Gaza.
The highest number of medics killed in Gaza. The highest number of hospitals and ambulances bombed in Gaza. The highest number of journalists killed in Gaza. So, sharing this knowledge is important in order to influence public opinion and eventually politicians.
Advocacy is often seen as separate from clinical work. But you argue that principled action is actually part of professional responsibility. Why should healthcare professionals specifically act on this?
Yes, it seems that advocacy, public health advocacy, is an activity that should not concern healthcare professionals, because they need to care and to cure, right? But since public health at the population level is largely determined by factors outside the healthcare system, health professionals have a duty also to intervene at the policy level. The social, economic, and political determinants of health are much more powerful in influencing health, and in this case, a genocide. We cannot just do our work, we also need to support policies that prevent and possibly stop a genocide.
Public health advocacy is actually part of our curricula, part of our missions, and part of our duties.
What is one small, effective action a professional person can realistically take inside their position and their organization, in your opinion?
Within the organizations people work, health professionals can make a difference. Just think about volunteer doctors operating in Gaza under unbelievable situations- their courage. They are examples for the rest of the world. I call them the conscience of the world. These are not even heroes. We depicted them as heroes during the pandemic. These are angels because of what they do. So, what can professionals do within the healthcare organizations? Make the voices of these colleagues heard.
Also, I think what we saw in Emilia-Romagna here after our petition was a clear example what people can do: Doctors mobilized, they created conferences, they signed petitions, they made lots of demonstrations in support of Gaza. And they show that health professionals, all sorts of professionals, have lots of influence if they join hands and start to do something together.
Roberto, looking back now, what surprised you the most about colleagues’ reaction?
What surprised me the most was the solidarity that so many colleagues, I had never even met in my life, showed after this. So when you were asking me about the cost for people who want to speak up for Gaza, I should also mention the unexpected benefits—the incredible solidarity from colleagues who thanked me for saying what they were thinking. That was deeply moving.
You wrote a book called “Selective Empathy: The West in the gaze of Gaza”. What does selective empathy reveal about institutional responses to Ukraine versus Gaza?
So when we published the letter in The Lancet “Breaking the Selective Silence on the Genocide in Gaza”, journalists asked why “selective”? What is this selective silence? We don’t understand. Basically, it’s selective because in other types of humanitarian crises, some academic associations have been very vigorous and very determined in condemning the perpetrators of injustices and those responsible for humanitarian crises. In the case of Gaza, this did not happen.
Actually, when looking at the policy statements of several of these organizations, we noticed that Hamas was condemned for war crimes and crimes against humanity on October 7—which are crimes against humanity, for sure—but there was neutral or even very soft language when considering the crimes and genocide committed by Israel.
In the case of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, this was very different. Russia was sanctioned, attacked, condemned unequivocally. So we saw that this showed a clear double standard among the public health and academic community.
So after everything that happened, are you today more pessimistic, or more hopeful about institutional change?
As a scientist, I need to be evidence-based and I don’t predict the future. I try to abstain from descending into optimism versus pessimism type of scenarios. I think what we do is important because there is a moral force in trying to stop a genocide. It’s just a duty, not even something so noble—it’s just our job. I’m a professor of global health, and if I don’t try to stop the genocide that is one of the worst global health catastrophes you can imagine, I should do another job. So that’s my duty.
At the same time, I thought that yes, there should be a way to act and mobilize that goes even beyond the outcomes. I’m not saying that I don’t want the outcomes to happen. But I think that we don’t do things just because we think we’ll win. We do things, like advocating to end a genocide, because they are just.
Finally, for a healthcare professional reading this right now, feeling that moral pull to act but unsure where to start, what is the single most important thing they should take away from your experience?
The single most important thing is this: don’t underestimate the power and effectiveness of principled, evidence-based advocacy for public health and social justice. Paraphrasing anthropologist Margaret Mead, it is advocacy by a small group of principled activists that has truly changed the world. Most major historical advances—such as the abolition of slavery, universal suffrage, and civil rights—came about because of their efforts. Typically, the ideas of courageous movers and changemakers are first ignored, then attacked or ridiculed, and ultimately accepted as conventional wisdom.
Be cognizant of power and relations of power in society and at work. Of course, pay attention to the range of activities you can realistically undertake and protect yourself at the same time. Yet, you don’t need seniority or institutional protection to begin. What you do need is strategy and a solid grounding in evidence, which you then share—calmly, professionally, and persistently—within your workplace, your professional networks, your teaching, your writing, and your conversations.
Even small acts, such as circulating credible studies, asking your institution to acknowledge reality, or supporting colleagues who speak out, can create ripples.
In the case of Gaza, acts of dissent are, as Palestinian poet Rasha Abdulhadi noted, “sand in the gears of genocide.”
You may feel alone at first. But my experience showed me that when one person speaks with clarity and integrity, many others who were silent suddenly recognize themselves in that voice.
Acts of resistance must then be paired with acts of networking. This is not only strategic, but also psychologically and even spiritually fulfilling.
It is also important to recognize that inaction and silence in the face of injustice carry personal costs. These costs may be even higher than those you face when you decide to speak up.
Finally, social change takes time and sustained effort. But do not confuse success and failure when taking a stand for social justice. As I put it in my book, you do not fight for just causes because you will win. You fight for just causes because they are just.
If you were moved by this interview and would like to get involved in creating change, you can get in touch with our team at info@bystandersnomore.org or read more about our Healthcare Professionals campaign here.