This interview was conducted as part of the Organization for Defending Victims of Violence (ODVV)’s expert series on Palestine, global solidarity, and international humanitarian law. Kleoniki Alexopoulou is a scholar of economic history, decolonization, and Global South studies, and a member of the Steering Committee of the Global Sumud Flotilla. In 2025 she joined the maritime mission to Gaza, during which she and other participants were intercepted and detained by Israeli forces. Her academic work spans colonial economic systems, political economy, and social movements, and she remains an active voice in the global solidarity movement for Palestine.
In this interview, Alexopoulou traces her intellectual path from studies of colonial legacies and economic dependencies to a deep engagement with Palestine, shaped by her 2009 visit to the West Bank and informed by decolonial and world-systems theories. She highlights the vital role of international solidarity in amplifying marginalized voices, fostering sustained alliances, and linking Palestinian resistance to global anti-colonial struggles, while stressing the need for ethical listening and respect for local leadership. Drawing from her firsthand experience in the Global Sumud Flotilla, she recounts the unifying power of the mission’s boats, the unlawful interception by Israeli forces, and its unintended benefits like brief respite for Gaza’s fishermen, alongside the psychological tactics encountered in detention. She critiques sieges and blockades as historical tools of domination, deeming deliberate deprivations unlawful under international humanitarian law and grounds for accountability. Offering practical strategies rooted in her economic history research, she advocates for local production, cooperatives, decentralized infrastructures, and diaspora networks, bolstered by international efforts to open humanitarian corridors. Looking forward, she envisions an invigorated global solidarity driven by youth, intersectional movements, and decolonial scholarship, positioning Palestinian liberation as integral to worldwide justice. The perspectives expressed in this interview do not necessarily reflect the official positions of the Organization for Defending Victims of Violence.
The full transcript of this important exchange follows:
1. As a scholar of economic history and Global South studies, what intellectual and analytical path led you to focus on the question of Palestine and the ongoing occupation of Gaza?
My engagement with the question of Palestine emerged organically from my broader research on the economic and political legacies of colonialism and the structural inequalities that continue to shape the Global South. As a scholar of economic history, I have long been interested in how global economic systems, rooted in imperial extraction and unequal exchange, produce enduring forms of dependency and dispossession.
My first visit to the West Bank in 2009, while I was a master’s student, was a turning point. I went there to conduct interviews with political representatives and to contribute to local initiatives, including a cultural festival in a village. That experience profoundly shaped my understanding of how structural forms of control intersect with the daily realities of community resilience, cultural expression, and political resistance. It also deepened my sense of responsibility to connect academic inquiry with lived experience and collective struggle.
In this context, the case of Palestine stands out as both historically specific and globally resonant. It exemplifies how settler colonialism, economic control, and geopolitical domination intertwine to sustain systems of occupation and exclusion. My analytical approach draws from decolonial thought, world-systems analysis, and postcolonial political economy, which together help situate Palestine not as an isolated conflict but as part of a wider continuum of struggles for autonomy, justice, and self-determination across the Global South.
At the same time, the ongoing situation in Gaza, its humanitarian urgency and symbolic power, reminds us that academic research must remain connected to the realities of resistance, survival, and solidarity. This intersection between structural analysis and human experience continues to guide my work.
2. How do you see the role of international solidarity movements in this context?
International solidarity movements play an indispensable role in making visible the asymmetries of power that underpin the occupation and in amplifying Palestinian voices that are often marginalized in dominant narratives. From an analytical standpoint, such movements embody the transnational dimensions of anti-colonial struggle; they link local resistance to global structures of injustice and contribute to reshaping the moral and political vocabulary of international relations.
However, solidarity must go beyond symbolic gestures. It requires sustained engagement, ethical listening, and the recognition that the Palestinian struggle is intertwined with broader global struggles against racial capitalism, imperialism, and environmental dispossession. Effective solidarity involves building alliances that are grounded in shared principles of justice, equality, and decolonization, while respecting the agency and leadership of those directly affected.
Ultimately, I see international solidarity not only as an ethical imperative but as a transformative practice—one that invites us to rethink global interdependence and to act collectively toward a more just and decolonized world order.
3. As a member of the Global Sumud Flotilla’s steering committee, could you share your experience during the mission, including the interception by Israeli forces, and how this experience influenced your views on Palestine and global activism?
The most powerful moment of the mission was when all the boats from Barcelona, Tunis, Sicily, and the Greek islands, finally united south of Crete to form one single flotilla. That moment symbolized true solidarity and collective strength. Over the following nights, as we faced the immense military power of a state armed with advanced technology, this sense of unity became even stronger.
As expected, our flotilla was intercepted by Israeli forces – an act that violates international law and constitutes piracy in international waters. Our boat, Oxygono, along with the others that departed from Greece, was pursued for hours before being stopped about 40 miles off the coast of Gaza. During our transfer to Ashdod, we could hear the sound of bombs in the distance, and we realized we would not be able to deliver the medication and food we carried for the children waiting on the beach. Yet, because the Global Sumud Flotilla drew the attention of Israeli authorities, fishermen in Gaza were finally able to fish without interference, even if only for a short time.
When we arrived at the port, before being taken through long police procedures that preceded imprisonment, I witnessed soldiers tearing down our Palestinian flags and the drawings made by Greek children for their Palestinian peers. That moment captured the cruelty of occupation in a very personal way.
Inside the prison, what struck me most was the propaganda on the main wall: a large image of Gaza in ruins, beneath which the phrase “The New Gaza” was written in Arabic, clearly meant for Palestinian prisoners to read. This was meant to break spirits, but it had the opposite effect on us. It strengthened our conviction and deepened our commitment to defending Palestinian rights.
This experience profoundly shaped my understanding of Palestine and global activism. It reminded me that solidarity is not symbolic – it is lived, risky, and deeply human. The courage and resilience of the Palestinian people continue to inspire me to advocate for justice wherever it is denied.
4. Based on your observations, in what ways have policies such as siege, blockade, or deliberate deprivation been used as tools of control or warfare, and how would you assess these practices under international law?
From a historian’s standpoint, sieges and blockades are not only military tactics but enduring technologies of domination. In colonial and postcolonial contexts across the Global South, the control of food, labour, and mobility has often served to discipline and reorder societies. What we witness today continues this logic: deliberate deprivation functions as a means of governance, undermining collective resilience and enforcing dependency.
Over the past year, as part of the Global Sumud Flotilla, I have seen how the denial of movement (by land, sea, and air) translates into a profound assault on civilian life and dignity. Under international humanitarian law, such measures are clearly circumscribed: the starvation of civilians and collective punishment are prohibited, and occupying powers are obliged to ensure basic welfare. When deprivation becomes systemic, it exceeds the realm of military necessity and enters that of illegality – revealing, ultimately, the political use of suffering as a form of control.
Use of siege, blockade or deliberate deprivation that foreseeably causes starvation, denies essential humanitarian supplies, or amounts to collective punishment is generally unlawful under International Humanitarian Law and may trigger state responsibility or individual criminal liability.
5. Drawing on your research on the economic history of Europe and Africa, what potential strategies or models could help strengthen the economic and social resilience of the Palestinian people under occupation?
My research on the economic history of Europe and Africa suggests that societies under siege or occupation draw strength from networks of mutual support, cooperative economies, and the creative repurposing of scarcity.
For Palestinians, resilience emerges through the same collective strategies that have sustained communities across the Global South: local production, women-led cooperatives, social solidarity initiatives, and diasporic linkages that bypass imposed borders. Decentralized infrastructures (solar energy, community agriculture, digital work) can mitigate dependency, while education and cultural production sustain the moral and imaginative grounds of endurance.
Yet these efforts require international solidarity to open humanitarian corridors, protect civil infrastructure, and challenge the legality of the blockade itself. As activists within the Global Sumud Flotilla, our work -by sea, by air, by land- is not merely symbolic: it seeks to reassert the right of movement and connection as the foundation of any viable social and economic life.
There’s no substitute for political solutions that end deprivation at source. International law limits sieges and blockades that cause civilian starvation or amount to collective punishment, but enforcement and practical relief depend on a combination of legal action, diplomatic pressure, monitored humanitarian access, and creative development measures that build resilience despite constraints.
6. Looking ahead, how do you envision the future of global solidarity with Palestine, both in academic atmosphere and in collective action? What directions do you believe this movement should take in the coming years?
Global solidarity with Palestine is entering a new phase; one shaped by the visibility of systemic injustice and by the refusal of younger generations, artists, and scholars to remain silent. In academia, I see a growing commitment to decolonial methodologies that situate Palestine within broader histories of imperialism, and resistance across the Global South. This shift is not only analytical but ethical: it challenges the separation between research and responsibility, inviting scholars to stand in relation, not abstraction.
In collective action, the future lies in building horizontal, intersectional networks that connect struggles for freedom, climate justice, labour rights, and gender equality. Solidarity must move beyond symbolic gestures toward sustained material support, mobility, and protection for those living under siege. From the perspective of the Global Sumud Flotilla, I believe our task is to keep opening routes by sea, air, and land; not only to deliver aid but to affirm that movement, dignity, and collective endurance remain possible. The horizon of Palestinian liberation is, ultimately, a horizon of shared emancipation.
