How South Africa's genocide case at the Hague is now built on sanctioned ground: Tim Flack

Key topics:

• US sanctions Al-Haq, Al-Mezan, and PCHR under Executive Order 14203

• South Africa’s ICJ genocide case relied on sanctioned Palestinian NGOs

• NGOs tied to terror-linked lawfare undermine Pretoria’s legal credibility

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By Tim Flack

On 5 September 2025, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio confirmed that the Treasury had sanctioned Al-Haq, Al-Mezan, and the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights under Executive Order 14203. Rubio made it clear these groups were not human rights NGOs but instruments of lawfare, freezing their assets and prohibiting American engagement.

Marco Rubio made the announcement on 5 September 2025.

In January 2024, South Africa strode into the International Court of Justice in The Hague to accuse Israel of genocide. To Pretoria, it was a historic moment, the culmination of months of preparation and a chance to cloak itself in the moral authority of the anti-apartheid struggle. The government presented itself as a voice for the oppressed, claiming that Israel's war in Gaza was nothing short of extermination.

But hidden in the fine print of the ICJ's official record is a detail that undermines the story South Africa wanted the world to believe. When the Court reconvened in May 2024, the roster of delegation members included not just South African lawyers and diplomats, but three Palestinians whose names carry far more baggage than Pretoria dared admit. Listed as full members of the delegation were Raji Sourani, the director of the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights; Issam Younis, head of Al-Mezan; and Ahmed Abofoul, a researcher for Al-Haq.

These men were not observers standing at the back of the courtroom. They were accredited as part of the official South African team, seated at the counsel's table. Their names appear side by side with senior South African diplomats, advocates, and professors of law. It was not an informal partnership, nor a backroom consultation. It was an official delegation, presented to the Court and recorded in its verbatim transcript for the world to see. South Africa did not merely cite their work. It carried them across the threshold of the Peace Palace and made them part of its sovereign presence.

On the steps of the International Court of Justice in The Hague, then-South African Foreign Minister Naledi Pandor addressed the media (Pandor has since leaving travelled the world preaching that as muslims they are permitted to engage in Jihad when necessary), flanked to her left by DIRCO Director-General Zane Dangor ( who himself claims to have been instrumental in the South African Government decision to go to the ICJ). Directly behind them stood Raji Sourani (Director of the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights, convicted PFLP member) and Shawan Jabarin (Director of Al-Haq, long linked to the PFLP). Their presence in South Africa’s official ICJ delegation highlights the embedding of terror-linked NGO figures into the state’s genocide case against Israel.

Eighteen months later, the significance is impossible to ignore. On 5 September 2025, Us Secretary of State Marco Rubio and the United States Treasury sanctioned all three NGOs under Executive Order 14203, freezing their assets and banning American citizens from any dealings with them. Washington declared that these organisations were not neutral defenders of human rights but instruments of lawfare intertwined with the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, a group designated as a terrorist organisation by both the United States and the European Union.

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The result is a striking contradiction. A state that claimed to be standing for justice built its case at the world's highest court on the work of groups now officially recognised as hostile and terror-linked.

The presence of Raji Sourani in South Africa's delegation illustrates the depth of the entanglement. Sourani is celebrated in certain circles as a tireless advocate for Palestinian rights. Less often highlighted is his conviction as a member of the PFLP in 1979 and his public declaration in 2014 that he remained "proud to have fought in the ranks of the Popular Front." Under his leadership, the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights became a factory of legal campaigns, filing cases in European capitals and preparing dossiers for the International Criminal Court. By May 2024, when he was seated inside South Africa's delegation, he was already a veteran strategist of lawfare. He was not a stranger invited for testimony, but a figure whom Pretoria presented to the Court as one of its own.

Issam Younis, head of Al-Mezan, has a similar profile. Smooth in international forums and fluent in human rights language, Younis has appeared on panels alongside Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar and senior PFLP officials. His organisation's casualty counts and destruction surveys provided much of the raw data South Africa submitted to the ICJ. His name, too, appears in the official record of delegation members. The impression is clear: Pretoria did not simply rely on his organisation's research. It elevated him to the same standing as a national delegate, binding its case to his reputation and his network.

Then there is Al-Haq, the most prominent of the three NGOs. Its director, Shawan Jabarin, was convicted of PFLP membership in the 1980s. Israel's Supreme Court once described him as a man living a "double life." In 2021, Israel formally designated Al-Haq as a PFLP affiliate. 

When researcher Ahmed Abofoul joined South Africa's delegation in May 2024, Al-Haq's work already shaped much of the application. His colleague Susan Power, the group's head of legal research, was listed as an adviser. Power had gone so far as to defend the "international law right to resist" in the aftermath of Hamas's October 7 massacre, echoing militant talking points almost word for word. With both Abofoul and Power inside the delegation, South Africa was not merely borrowing evidence from Al-Haq. It was effectively partnering with the organisation, allowing it to guide the very arguments put before the court.

Together, these NGOs were not mere contributors. They were the backbone of South Africa's case. Their reports were cited dozens of times in the application, their data formed the basis of the genocide narrative, and their staff were physically present in The Hague as part of the delegation. Pretoria did not just reference their work. It incorporated their operatives into its sovereign team.

The sanctions imposed in have transformed what might have been seen as wise collaboration into scandal. By acting under Executive Order 14203, Washington made clear that Al-Haq, PCHR and Al-Mezan were not benign civic organisations but entities providing support to terror-linked lawfare campaigns. The sanctions freeze their assets, prohibit American engagement, and extend potential liability to those who provide them support.

For South Africa, this is devastating. Its delegation, already criticised for being a coalition of activist lawyers, was now publicly tied to organisations officially designated by the United States government as compromised. Every South African official who sat alongside these NGO operatives, every advocate who built arguments on their reports, is now indelibly associated with sanctioned entities. They cannot credibly claim ignorance. The ICJ's verbatim record binds them together on paper, in history, and in scandal.

This creates several problems. The first is legal credibility. The world cares about where evidence comes from and whether the chain of custody is trustworthy. If the central sources of South Africa's evidence are organisations now sanctioned as terror affiliates, Israel and its supporters can argue that the probative value of that evidence is destroyed. Every statistic, every affidavit, every annexe drawn from these NGOs can be portrayed as compromised.

The second is diplomatic. By embracing these groups, Pretoria has tethered itself to now-sanctioned actors. For allies of the United States, especially in Europe, this is a warning light. Support for South Africa's case now carries the risk of being associated with organisations Washington considers part of a hostile network. That could erode sympathy for Pretoria's cause even among governments inclined to criticise Israel. It is one thing to back a Global South partner. It is quite another to stand shoulder to shoulder with delegates drawn from organisations tied into proscribed movements.

The story does not begin or end with the ICJ or ICC. These NGOs have been laying the groundwork for years. Between 2014 and 2019 they coordinated six submissions to the International Criminal Court, meeting with prosecutors and lobbying for cases against Israel. They refined their tactics over a decade of lawfare, presenting themselves as impartial civil society while maintaining deep ties to proscribed groups. When Hamas massacred over 1,200 Israelis on October 7, 2023, they pivoted instantly to genocide framing, supplying the narrative and evidence that South Africa would later adopt. By May 2024, they had crossed the line from lobbying to participation, sitting inside South Africa's delegation at The Hague.

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By September 2025, the cycle was complete. What began as advocacy has now ended with U.S. sanctions. South Africa had gambled that importing Palestinian NGOs into its case would strengthen its moral claim. Instead, it exposed itself to charges of complicity with sanctioned entities tied to terror groups.

The consequences are already being felt. For Israel, the revelation is a strategic windfall. Every time South Africa cites NGO-produced data, Israel can remind the Court that the sources are organisations sanctioned under American law. The credibility of Pretoria's genocide narrative collapses when the evidence is traced back to terror-linked groups. For the United States, the sanctions are proof that lawfare has become a battlefield in its own right, one where terrorist affiliates use the language of human rights to attack democratic allies. And for the ICJ, the episode is a warning that its credibility can be compromised from within, simply by allowing delegation lists to be populated by those who operate as both activists and agents of proscribed movements.

South Africa still proclaims that its case is historic, that it stands in the tradition of Nuremberg and the Genocide Convention. Yet history may judge differently. The record now shows that its delegation at The Hague was staffed by individuals whose organisations are no longer considered legitimate actors in international law but sanctioned arms of a terror-affiliated lawfare campaign. These individuals were not peripheral. They were named as members of the delegation. They sat shoulder to shoulder with South African ambassadors, professors, and senior counsel. They were part of the team that claimed to speak on behalf of the Republic. It is a shame that opposition Political parties in South Africa remained silent. Possibly a lack of understanding on matters of the Middle east?

The genocide case may proceed for years, with more hearings and filings, but its foundation has already been poisoned. South Africa did not merely cite these NGOs. It deputised them, embraced them, and carried them into the chamber of the ICJ. And the world now knows that the ground on which its case stands is sanctioned ground.