Interview with Michael Barenboim
For violinist Michael Barenboim, Germany’s memory culture has become a tool for upholding complicity in Israel's crimes and rendering Palestinians invisible.
Since October 2023, Michael Barenboim has emerged as one of the few German public figures to speak out persistently against the government’s complicity in Israel’s genocide in Gaza — and to name it as such.
A violinist and violist, professor at the Barenboim-Said Academy in Berlin, and son of the well-known pianist and conductor Daniel Barenboim, in early 2024 he co-founded Make Freedom Ring, a collective of classical musicians organizing concerts around Germany in solidarity with Palestine. Along the way, he has felt the full force of the German state’s repression against those who speak out on Palestine: op-eds and interviews were pulled, while concerts that he had helped organize were canceled by their venues shortly before they were due to take place.
In 2024, Barenboim was also among 150 Jewish artists and writers in Germany who signed an open letter expressing “deep concerns” about a parliamentary resolution on antisemitism that subsequently passed. The resolution describes the BDS movement as antisemitic and reaffirms the government’s commitment not to fund cultural workers who support boycotting Israel. At the time, Barenboim said: “The protection of Jews is not the objective of this resolution.”
Last September, Barenboim co-organized the largest demonstration in Germany against Israel’s military campaign in Gaza, which called for an immediate ceasefire, an end to German arms exports, and EU sanctions on Israel.
Barenboim sat down with +972 Magazine to discuss how Germany’s Staatsräson doctrine — the idea that the state has a historical responsibility to defend Israel — continues to shape the boundaries of public discourse on Israel-Palestine, including who gets to be heard and who does not. He describes the professional and personal costs of speaking out for Palestinian rights, and why he believes it is long past time to center Palestinian voices in Germany.
The interview has been edited for length and clarity.
As one of only a handful of prominent voices in Germany to consistently condemn Israel’s genocidal war in Gaza and call out Germany’s complicity in it, how do you see the situation here today?
Since the signing of this so-called ceasefire agreement in October 2025, a lot of the attention has moved on to other things, and it’s been much more difficult to intervene in German discourse. This is very dangerous; Gaza is completely out of the limelight.
There’s hardly any reporting anymore [in German media] on what’s happening there, although the situation is as dramatic as ever. It’s very frustrating to me that we basically have to start again, to force people to simply look at what’s happening; and to think about Germany’s responsibility.
I think the [level of public] attention is moving back to what it was before October 2023, when a lot of horrible things were happening in Gaza — blockades, periodic bombings, starvation. Palestinians were left to perish slowly, with the attention firmly elsewhere. This is what enabled such a catastrophe in the first place.
After October 2023, this changed. We saw lots of protests and actions, particularly among students. It didn’t have the effect we all hoped for, which is a complete change in German policy. But it brought to the foreground the situation of Palestinians and Germany’s responsibility.
Would you say the Palestine solidarity movement in Germany has failed?
No. The German population as a whole — around 70 percent — now opposes Israel’s actions in Gaza, in the West Bank, in Lebanon, and so on. While most of them don’t see Germany’s responsibility in it, they do oppose these actions and that is crucial. For me, it’s clear that we have to mobilize these people. But that’s so difficult here. A lot of factors in Germany dissuade people from becoming active on this issue.
Factors like what?
Just think of all the cancellations, the silencing, the public scandalization of certain people when they do speak out — like what we’ve seen in the context of the Berlinale every year since 2023. These things have chilling effects. For someone who opposes the genocide but worries about their own social and professional life, risk assessment becomes very important. This is what prevents people from doing something, even if privately they have strong opinions on the subject.
You’ve felt some of those repercussions yourself. Could you walk me through some of your experiences?
In one particular case, around the first anniversary of October 7, I had written an op-ed for a major media outlet. The outlet made a few adjustments. It was a case of, “Here’s the second draft, let’s work on it, then we can publish,” meaning everything was basically ready. Then suddenly came the message that they had decided not to publish it after all. The reason given was that the text allegedly lacked a personal element. Of course, this is something I could have easily worked into the second draft.
Quite recently, I gave another interview and I got a message back saying, “We’ve decided not to print it because your positions on Israel’s right to exist and the causes of the conflict go against the editorial opinions of this publication.”
They told you this explicitly?
Yes. I found that astounding. First, because the opinions I expressed in that interview weren’t anything new. I’ve been saying the same thing for nearly three years at this point. But also, the idea that you’re only going to print interviews that fit the editorial opinions of your own publication is quite strange to me. What’s the point of that?
Were you asked directly whether you believe in Israel’s right to exist?
Yes, this is a very typical question I get. The response I usually give is that I don’t think states have such a right — that it’s not a legal question, but a moral one. And as such, the framework of a “right to exist” is simply nonsensical.
I also reiterated that we’re talking about a state committing genocide and apartheid — crimes that strike at the very heart of what we consider human. But this, too, has little to do with a so-called “right to exist.”
You’re one of the co-founders of Make Freedom Ring. What has organizing such a project in solidarity with Palestine been like in this climate?
We’ve been doing charity concerts for Palestine since March 2024, bringing together classical music and speeches — usually by [representatives of] the NGO we’re collecting money for, or Palestinian academics.
We started Make Freedom Ring because our industry was completely silent. It had been months of relentless Israeli bombing, yet there was nothing to be heard from any of the classical music institutions, not to mention esteemed colleagues who are usually very outspoken on other subjects.
Ukraine and Russia was a good counterexample: There were so many charity concerts organized for Ukraine by major institutions in Germany. That was easy. When you’re supporting the German government’s line you have the wind pushing you forward.
When you do things for Palestine, you have the wind blowing right in your face. You have to put in so much more effort, which leads to constant fatigue. The silence of our industry was catastrophic. So we wanted to gather more colleagues to speak up and show solidarity.
Back then, we had to work very hard just to find partners and venues. People were very afraid to host an event like this; it was perceived as “one-sided” or radical.
Today, different associations tend to reach out to us to do joint events in venues they may have connections with. But the perception is [still] that an event with Palestine at the center is controversial or risky. People worry they might get [angry] phone calls or have their funding withdrawn.
This is typical in Germany. Not necessarily that venues say no, although that happens too. They usually say yes, because they think of themselves as open-minded, liberal, and accepting of differing opinions. And then they say no [later].
This happened many times, most recently in March of this year. A few weeks before a concert involving not just us but many musicians from different genres, both the primary venue and the alternative pulled out — allegedly for security reasons.
What usually happens between the ‘yes’ and the ‘no’?
For example, in the case of Francesca Albanese’s visit to Germany in February 2025, we saw pressure from lobby groups, the Israeli Embassy, local politicians, and parts of the media. Venues see Staatsräson in action, and [understand] there is a price for such openmindedness.
There are very few exceptions to the rule. Earlier this year, Palestinian filmmaker Basma Al-Sharif was invited to Düsseldorf Kunstakademie. Despite a coordinated pressure campaign from those same actors, the event took place — albeit behind closed doors. But this requires a lot of courage, which really should not be necessary.
You’re a prominent Jewish voice on Palestine in Germany. Unlike in the United States, where anti-Zionist or otherwise critical Jewish voices are front and center to these debates, the situation in Germany seems quite different.
When the German state expresses its desire to “protect Jewish life,” it looks at Jews in a way that doesn’t take into account the diversity of Jewish opinion. After all, I’m not the only one who speaks that way. There are many others. But when German politicians and mainstream media think of Jews, they still think pro-Israel and Zionist. Opinions that differ are seen as somehow not really Jewish.
A Jewish musician who holds a pro-Israel opinion will have a much easier time influencing the discourse. They’ll have an easier time being platformed in the press, whereas people like me have to fight much harder to even appear. This is true in every industry, the classical music industry is just slightly more conservative.
Do you think the discourse is starting to shift in Germany?
Honestly, I’m not sure we’re there yet. To me, it looks like the discourse has basically come to a halt. It’s very clear who stands on which side, who says what, where, and when — and what impact that has. There’s not so much movement anymore. That’s also why there’s no real incentive for some colleagues who are still silent.
It’s July 2026 now. This genocide has been ongoing since October 2023. Even if I hadn’t taken my responsibility as a public figure seriously enough to speak out against it so far, I’d try to remedy this by starting right now. It would be a powerful thing. But even this hasn’t happened.
You don’t think that would be too little, too late?
I’d welcome it with open arms. I don’t think it’s wise to push people away. To say, “Where have you been for the last two and a half years?” Of course I can think that, and I will think that. It’s way smarter to let people offer an honest apology. Not to act as if nothing happened, but to say, “I regret not having taken this position earlier.”
The situation in Palestine has been catastrophic for decades. I myself didn’t really understand what role I could’ve taken before October 2023, and I regret this very much. I say this openly.
Was there a specific moment after October 7 that made you feel the need to be active?
It was two things. First, Yoav Gallant proclaiming, “These are human animals, we’re going to cut off electricity, water, fuel, and food” — essentially saying, “I am going to order my army to commit genocide.” And, a day or two later, the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin lit up in the colors of the Israeli flag, and German politicians proclaimed, “There is only one place for Germany: at the side of Israel.”
To me, these two things — [Israel saying] “We’re about to annihilate an entire group,” and Germans saying “We support this” — was what jolted me out of my own complacency.
Do you think Germans making statements like that simply hadn’t seen the images from Gaza? Or they simply didn’t care?
It doesn’t really matter. As a high-ranking politician in Germany, if you’re going to say, “I am on the side of Israel,” either you’ve seen the images and you don’t care; or you haven’t seen them and then you’re not doing your job. You need to take accountability.
Hospitals were bombed to the ground. The justifications were reiterated in German media and by German politicians time and again: human shields, tunnels, all this nonsense, and some made-up CGI video as “proof.” This was the discourse.
Today, we still see pictures from Gaza, despite the fact that Israel killed so many journalists, and we still deal with the same empty declarations: “We stand by Israel’s right to defend itself,” or whatever the excuse is for inflicting such misery. It’s absurd. The discourse might seem more open, but the justifications are basically the same.
Did you ever consider leaving Germany in light of all this?
I think now is the time to do what we all can to stop this insane train from running into a wall. People like me leaving doesn’t make it any more likely that any of this is going to change.
We have to work toward a complete change in German policy. This is going to take years. The genocide in Gaza, the annexation of the West Bank, and the ethnic cleansing of Palestine and southern Lebanon [are only possible] with international support.
What we’re trying to do with Make Freedom Ring is to allow musicians to play and show solidarity without taking on the full burden of risk onto themselves. We’re the ones organizing the concert, so we’re not asking more of them than to play. That’s one way to tilt the risk balance; joining others who feel the same way is usually a good idea. Not to despair alone, but to do things in groups, to find partners, to act collectively.
Germany’s self-proclaimed duty to protect Jewish life — which gets translated into support for Israel — is, of course, derived from its historical responsibility for the Holocaust. Do you see any possibility of decoupling one from the other?
Right now, [Holocaust] memory culture is a state-organized project that ends up supporting complicity in Israeli crimes. I think we have to make clear that the codification of “Never Again” is in the Genocide Convention, and thus applies to everyone. That could be a first step. But at the moment this is very difficult for me to imagine here in Germany. It’s not just that memory culture is selective; it is manipulated for a very specific end.
I think centering the perspective of Palestinians in Germany is a very important step. You and I speak in Berlin, where we have the largest Palestinian community in Europe. But there’s no Palestinian cultural center, no Nakba commemoration monument, nothing. Palestinians exist in complete invisibility. That’s part of the problem, and it’s not an accident; it’s designed that way.
Despite all this, what gives you hope these days?
We’ve seen the younger generation — especially students — be exemplary to German society. This generation gives me hope. And I also get hope knowing that over two-thirds of the German public opposes the genocide.
Maybe in the future the political price for Germany’s complicity will be too high. Maybe complicity will become a vote-loser. As long as it isn’t, things aren’t going to change.
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