
—– GUEST POST: PHOTO ESSAY by Denise Laura Baker —–
Following her time on remand, 65-year-old climate activist Alyson Lee shared her insight into why people persist in seemingly futile struggles – hope in an invisible tipping point.
“There’s a tipping point that you are working towards,” she explains, “and it’s only when you get to that tipping point that society’s attitude changes…and you never know when that tipping point’s going to come. Its hard work. You must grit your teeth and have faith that it will eventually get there.“
Her words echo through history. It was seven years until Greenham Common’s missiles were removed, a decade for women’s suffrage, over twenty years to begin dismantling apartheid. Each victory required collective perseverance, activists chipping away at indifference, silence and back turning, until something shifted. Today as millions watch the genocide and devastation in Gaza livestreamed across their screens, that same question haunts both older activists and a new generation of protesters – when will the tipping point come?
For two years, demonstrations have grown globally while governments offer token gestures and mainstream media remains largely silent. Faced with this institutional inertia ordinary citizens are escalating from petitions to direct action, risking arrest and the label of “terrorist” for refusing to look away. Their persistence raises an uncomfortable question – how severe must the psychological discomfort become before those in authority accept their complicity?
The daily barrage of images – demolished hospitals, starving children, journalists killed mid-broadcast – creates a peculiar kind of collective trauma among distant witnesses. We feel powerless to affect change, guilty for not living this reality ourselves yet still shaken by what we see. Many turn away because the pain is unbearable – others seek refuge in distraction, protecting their mental health from the relentless stream of atrocities. Can we blame them for this self-preservation when genocide is livestreamed twenty-four hours a day?
Yet resistance follows a familiar trajectory. First come petitions and letters to MPs. Then street protests demanding sanctions and an end to arms sales. When governments prove unmoved, and when pro-Israel lobbying’s influence becomes undeniable, activists escalate to non-violent direct action, targeting corporations profiting from the conflict. The state’s response is predictable – protesters are imprisoned and labelled terrorists, their supporters arrested, and new laws enacted to curtail the right to demonstrate. This is cognitive dissonance writ large – those in power finding it easier to criminalize dissent than acknowledge their role in enabling mass killing.

While institutions remain paralysed, ordinary people accept extraordinary risks. In September 2025 I joined the crew of the Thousand Madleens to Gaza, young activists who transformed moral outrage into maritime action. Just three months earlier they were scattered individuals united only by their refusal to look away. Now they were raising funds for boats, recruiting sailors and planning to break the blockade which is starving Gaza. Their determination intensified after Israeli attacks on earlier Freedom Flotilla vessels, the Conscience, Madleen, and Handala, especially when Greta Thunberg participated. The strategy evolved – send flotillas in waves, boats converging simultaneously on Palestinian waters, to stretch the Israeli naval blockade thin.
Back in the UK, I along with hundreds of thousands of others watched as the Global Sumud Flotilla was intercepted, a drama unfolding livestreamed on YouTube and social media. Of the original fifty boats, forty-four remained on course for Gaza until the Israeli navy intercepted them. They were picked off methodically, yet a few temporarily evaded capture, proving the blockade could be challenged. The Madleens set sail on the next wave – a small fleet of eight boats plus the Conscience, carrying nearly one hundred people.

I spent two weeks with these crews as they trained, bonded, and prepared. There was no special treatment for dignitaries. We all slept on lumpy mattresses in sparse monastery rooms, prepared food together, shared bathrooms, spilled our tears and told our stories. We were too hot, got little sleep, and were devoured by mosquitos. Those not in the monastery slept on their boats, adjusting to water and confined spaces.

Several things stood out. The holocratic model of decision-making works – decentralised governance that replaces hierarchies with self-organizing teams, distributing power and allowing flexibility. Those with knowledge led decisions. When everyone shares a common purpose in a levelling environment, there’s no room for ego. It didn’t matter who was an MP, a music star, a writer, or a cook, there was mutual love and respect. This was beautiful to witness. Many times, I cried simply from an act of kindness, a moment of happiness or camaraderie.

One participant observed that this felt like a magical coming together of the best of humanity attempting to take on the worst of humanity. If you were sad, there was comfort. Frustrated, there was discussion. Overwhelmed, there was peace. If you needed to talk, someone listened. As departure approached, we exchanged tokens. To Mara I gave my belt and dry bag, to Leigh my first aid kit and a boat from a UK refugee woman inscribed in Arabic: “I wish I could make this journey with you, but I have no passport, and I am not safe, so I send my heart.” We both cried and he said he’d take her heart and mine too. I’ve never experienced anything quite as profound or life changing.

Now, six months on, the crews of all the respective flotillas are setting sail again. This time it is bigger, a true coalition of movements, with members of the Global Sumud Flotilla, The Freedom Flotilla movement and the Thousand Madleen’s joining forces to create strength in numbers. The twenty boats that form the Thousand Madleens left Marseilles on the 4th April and headed to the international meeting point where they will join the rest of the flotilla and leave for Gaza.
I fear for the people I came to call family, and all the new participants, especially seeing what’s currently happening in the world. We are no longer at peace; there is a war being waged in and around the Arab world.

But as Welsh emergency nurse Leigh Evans told us: “Fear and violence are the tools of our enemy. We must not give in to the violence of fear, or the fear of violence. Focus on our goal, it remains the same. Rhyddyd y Balestinqa, Hurra Falestina, Free Palestine.”
Whatever people say about these flotillas ‘selfie yachts’ ‘performative’ or just a waste of time, that isn’t the point. Yes, people used their platform and privilege, but why not? What is the point of having a platform and privilege if you don’t use it to effect change? What I saw wasn’t about necessarily about clicks or ego, but it is about people reaching their moral breaking point and refusing to remain bystanders anymore.

Words and images ©2026 Denise Laura Baker
The Global Sumud Flotilla sails with clear political demands of governments,
institutions, and the international community:
● Open a permanent sea and land corridor to Gaza and guarantee safe
passage for humanitarian aid, civilian vessels, medical personnel, and
reconstruction materials under international supervision and Palestinian
leadership.
● Honor binding legal obligations, including under the Genocide
Convention, the Geneva Conventions, and the ICJ’s 2024 advisory opinion,
by imposing an immediate arms embargo on the Israeli regime,
suspending agreements that entrench the occupation, and cooperating
fully with international accountability mechanisms.
● Ensure Palestinian-led reconstruction and leadership free from foreign
control, political conditions, or displacement, paired with the lifting of the
siege and the right of return for all Palestinians.
● Deliver accountability for genocide through full enforcement of ICC
arrest warrants, continued ICJ proceedings, and the exercise of universal
jurisdiction wherever applicable.
On Sunday the flotilla left Barcelona and is heading to their next stop in Italy where more boats will join the fleet to Gaza.


