By Dr Mohd Safar Hasim
Hundreds of diplomats stage walkout as Israeli Prime Minister denounces Western support for Palestinian statehood, leaving UN hall visibly empty
The United Nations General Assembly, long regarded as a forum for global dialogue, witnessed a striking act of collective dissent on Sept 26, 2025. As Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu rose to deliver his address, hundreds of diplomats from across continents quietly stood and exited the hall.
The walkout, coordinated and symbolic, left vast sections of the chamber empty—transforming the moment into a visual protest against Netanyahu’s condemnation of Palestinian statehood.
In his speech, Netanyahu accused Western governments of “rewarding terrorism” by recognising Palestine as a sovereign state. He argued that such recognition undermines peace and emboldens extremist factions, particularly Hamas.
Delivered amid rising tensions in Gaza and renewed diplomatic overtures by Palestinian leaders to the European Union and African Union, his remarks were intended to reaffirm Israel’s uncompromising stance.
But the walkout reframed the moment entirely. It was not a disruption—it was a disengagement. And in that disengagement, the global community delivered its own message.
Delegations from Arab League nations, Muslim-majority countries, African states, and several European representatives—including Scandinavian and Iberian delegations—joined the exodus.
Malaysia’s delegation was among them, reaffirming its longstanding support for Palestinian self-
determination and its commitment to international justice. The United States delegation remained
seated but notably refrained from endorsing Netanyahu’s remarks. Outside the UN building, demonstrators waved Palestinian flags and called for accountability.
Online, hashtags like #UNWalkout and #StandWithPalestine trended globally, amplifying the symbolic weight of the protest.
The power of this moment lay not in what was said, but in what was refused. In an age of performative diplomacy—where statements are crafted for headlines and applause—the walkout was a refusal to participate in the performance. It was a rejection of a narrative that equates Palestinian aspirations with extremism and dismisses decades of occupation, displacement, and struggle as political inconvenience.
The empty chairs became metaphors for moral clarity. They stood as silent witnesses to a global conscience unwilling to be complicit, even by proximity. They reminded us that diplomacy is not only about what is spoken, but also about what is tolerated. And in this case, the world chose not to tolerate a speech that sought to delegitimise an entire people’s claim to statehood.
Netanyahu’s address, intended to reassert Israel’s position on the global stage, was instead overshadowed by the absence of his audience. The applause from remaining delegates—largely from Israel’s allies—rang hollow in a hall that had already made its judgment.
The optics were stark: a leader speaking to rows of empty seats, surrounded by silence that spoke louder than any rebuttal.
For Malaysia, the walkout was more than symbolic. It was a reaffirmation of its historical commitment to the Palestinian cause. From parliamentary resolutions to civil society mobilisation, Malaysia has consistently positioned itself as a vocal advocate for Palestinian rights.
The decision to exit the hall aligned with this legacy, sending a clear message: recognition of Palestine is not a reward for terrorism—it is a step toward justice. This moment also invites reflection on the evolving nature of protest within diplomatic spaces.
Traditional diplomacy often relies on negotiation and compromise. But symbolic actions—walkouts, boycotts, silent vigils—are becoming central to how nations express dissent. They allow states to signal disapproval without escalating conflict, and they resonate with global audiences in ways that formal statements often cannot.
In the days ahead, Netanyahu’s speech will be dissected and defended by his supporters. But the image that will endure is not one of rhetorical triumph—it is one of isolation. It is the image of a leader speaking to a hall half-empty, surrounded by applause that could not drown out the silence of those who had walked away.
As we consider the implications of this moment, we must ask: what does it mean when the world chooses absence over engagement? What does it say about the power of collective conscience in shaping international discourse? And how can nations like Malaysia continue to use symbolic diplomacy to advocate for justice, dignity, and peace?
In the end, the walkout was not merely a protest—it was a proclamation. It declared that some narratives are no longer acceptable, that some voices must be challenged not with words, but with silence. And in that silence, the world found its voice.
The views expressed here are entirely those of Dr Mohd Safar Hasim, a Council Member of the Malaysia Press Institute (MPI)
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