Introduction
“Our boats carry bread, not bombs.” This phrase, once painted on the side of a Gaza Freedom Flotilla ship, captures a simple truth: civilians trying to bring relief into a besieged territory are not combatants. Yet in a world where international law often feels fragile, many ask whether the Geneva Conventions or international law in general still matter. The answer is yes. The Geneva Conventions remain the backbone of the modern law of war, designed precisely for situations where civilians risk being crushed between state power and humanitarian need. Alongside them, other instruments of international law — such as the Additional Protocols, the UN Charter, customary rules on the conduct of hostilities, and codifications like the San Remo Manual — reinforce the same commitment to protecting civilians and regulating the use of force.
The enduring promise of the Geneva Conventions
Adopted in the ruins of the Second World War, the 1949 Geneva Conventions codified the idea that humanity does not end at the water’s edge or at the outbreak of war. The Fourth Geneva Convention (GC IV) and its later Additional Protocol I (API) extend protection to civilians and require access to essential supplies. Article 59 GC IV obliges an occupying power to agree to relief schemes “if the whole or part of the population of an occupied territory is inadequately supplied,” while API article 70 repeats this and adds that consent “shall not be arbitrarily withheld.”
Civilian protection at sea
At sea, these protections are spelled out in the San Remo Manual on International Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts at Sea (1994). It recognises that a belligerent may enforce a lawful blockade but may not starve civilians, arbitrarily block relief, or attack humanitarian personnel and objects. Civilians on humanitarian ships remain protected “unless and for such time” as they take a direct part in hostilities (API art. 51(3)).
This is why the civilian character of a flotilla matters. Transparent cargo lists, neutral observers, and non-violent conduct strengthen its protection. Conversely, if passengers use weapons against boarding forces, they risk losing that protection “for such time” as they participate directly in hostilities—though even then, Israel would remain bound by necessity and proportionality, and once the threat subsides, detainees revert to civilian status with full guarantees of humane treatment.
Approaching Gaza: yellow and red zones
The waters off Gaza are not legally divided into “yellow” and “red” zones under treaty law, but Israel has long operationalised such categories. The “yellow zone” typically designates waters where vessels are warned to stop and may be hailed, inspected, or diverted. The “red zone” is treated as an exclusion area, often enforced with heightened naval presence and, at times, live fire.
From an international law perspective, these zones do not themselves create new legal categories; they are unilateral enforcement measures within a declared blockade. Their enforcement remains subject to the same international legal limits. On the high seas, the default principle is freedom of navigation for all vessels under Article 87 of the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea. This means that interception, visit, or search by a belligerent is not a general entitlement but a narrow exception that arises only in the context of a lawful blockade. But its conduct must remain tethered to the rules of IHL and the law of the sea.
However, it must be stressed that the UN Human Rights Council’s 2010 fact-finding mission judged both the blockade of Gaza and the Mavi Marmara raid to be unlawful — a conclusion consistently affirmed by a range of international organisations such as the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International and multiple UN Special Rapporteurs. It follows that where a blockade is unlawful, the derivative rights of visit, search, diversion, and interception cannot lawfully be exercised at all. Even if one assumes, for the sake of argument, that a blockade was lawful, international humanitarian law strictly limits such powers in respect of humanitarian vessels, prohibiting arbitrary interference with relief consignments and requiring consent for humanitarian relief to be given and not to be withheld arbitrarily.
Hypothetical scenarios: Peaceful, passive, armed
If the Global Sumud Flotilla submits to boarding, Israel may board and divert it but must use minimal force, treat passengers humanely, and expedite delivery of legitimate aid. If passengers refuse to disembark but remain non-violent, Israel may use non-lethal measures but still owes a duty of care and must not employ disproportionate force. In other words, the obligation of necessity and proportionality remains absolute, and lethal force against unarmed civilians who are merely passively resisting would be unlawful. If flotilla participants use weapons, they lose civilian protection “for such time” as they fight, but Israel remains bound by necessity and proportionality. The aim is enforcement, not punishment.
The enduring significance of IHL
At a time when many despair of international law’s relevance, the Geneva Conventions offer a counter-narrative. Together with other key instruments of international law, they are not a utopian code, but a floor of minimum protection hammered out from the experience of total war. They do not prevent all suffering, but they provide clear red lines that states and non-state actors can be judged against.
Conclusion
“Our boats carry bread, not bombs” is more than a slogan. It encapsulates the legal status of the Global Sumud Flotilla as a civilian humanitarian operation. International law imposes strict duties on Israel to allow essential relief and to protect civilians at sea. The Geneva Conventions and other related instruments of international law, far from obsolete, remain a living promise that even in the darkest waters, the law continues to see and protects the vulnerable.
The author would also like to record her sincere thanks to the Centre for Asian Legal Studies (CALS), National University of Singapore (NUS) for hosting her as a guest researcher and speaker in conjunction with the launch of Statelessness in Asia, published by Cambridge University Press, from 24 September to 1 October 2025.
Source of picture: Global Sumud Flotilla