INTERNATIONAL
Sumud Flotilla: History and legacy not in tatters neither did it affect ASEAN
A flotilla led by French activist Melissa, dubbed the “Thousand Madleens,” departing from the Sicilian port of San Giovanni li Cuti in Catania, Italy, September 27. REUTERS/Danilo Arnone Purchase Licensing Rights
The name Sumud in Arabic means steadfastness. It is not merely a slogan. It is a moral commitment that Palestinians, and their allies worldwide, have held onto through decades of dispossession and siege. The Sumud Flotilla is part of that continuum.
Its journeys across the Mediterranean Sea are not failures to break a blockade. They are testimonies that the cause of Gaza is alive, that civil society refuses to let the siege fade into silence.
When the Mavi Marmara was attacked in 2010, killing nine activists and wounding dozens, the world was shocked into awareness. For the first time in decades, the suffering of Gaza pierced international headlines not through official diplomacy but through citizen activism.
That moment established a legacy: even unarmed ships carrying medicines, books, and food could shake consciences more deeply than another sterile statement at the United Nations.
The Sumud Flotilla inherits that legacy. Each voyage has been intercepted, detained, or forced back by overwhelming Israeli naval power. But the point was never to match military might. The point was always to expose, to witness, to remind. Cargo could be seized; ships could be towed. Yet the symbolism of defiance could not be erased.
Just as importantly all six members of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), namely Saudi Arabia, United Arab Emirates (UAE), Bahrain, Oman, Kuwait and Qatar are most displeased with the air attack of Qatar when some Palestinian operatives were holding their meeting in the heart of Doha.
No GCC member has even been directly violated by Israel before. If anything, the apology of President Donald Trump has come too little too late. In spite of the assurance by him that no GCC member states would be attacked again. When GCC feels most vulnerable, it trusts the indefatigable spirit of ASEAN to challenge colonialism over and again. As personified by Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim the Group Chair of ASEAN and Related Summits.
At any rate, critics argue that repeated interception proves futility. But history shows otherwise. The anti-apartheid struggle in South Africa was built on campaigns that seemed inconsequential at the time—boycotts, cultural protests, sports bans. None broke apartheid in a single stroke. Together, they eroded its legitimacy until the system collapsed. Likewise, the flotillas keep eroding the legitimacy of Gaza’s blockade, exposing it as not just a security measure but collective punishment of two million people.
The word tatters are misplaced. The flotillas have not unravelled. They have multiplied narratives of resilience. In Europe, parliaments debated sanctions. In Latin America, solidarity movements gained new vigour. In Asia, particularly in Malaysia and Indonesia, the moral bond with Palestine deepened. Malaysian NGOs, students, and ordinary citizens followed the flotillas closely. They saw them as echoing their own history of resistance against colonialism.
This is why the Sumud Flotilla cannot be dismissed as a maritime failure. It is a moral lighthouse. The ships did not sink into oblivion. They lit paths of solidarity across continents. The blockade remains, but so does the voice of Gaza, amplified by civil society.
For Palestinians, sumud is not abstract. It is lived reality. Families rebuild their homes after every airstrike. Farmers return to their fields despite repeated destruction. Students go to class with intermittent electricity and scarce books. The flotilla, in name and action, reflects that same determination. Its international passengers choose to risk detention or injury because they recognize that silence would be the greater risk.
This is also why Southeast Asia, especially ASEAN, should care. ASEAN’s own history of standing against imperialism and foreign domination resonates with the flotilla’s spirit. The Bandung Declaration of 1955, which rejected colonialism and affirmed self-determination, lives on in this form of people’s diplomacy. When Malaysia, as ASEAN Chair, speaks for Palestine, it is not only diplomacy—it is continuity with its own past and with global civil society.
Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim has repeatedly emphasized that Gaza’s suffering is not a distant tragedy but a moral wound for humanity. His government’s support for humanitarian missions, including past flotillas, underscores that Malaysia’s chairmanship of ASEAN in 2025 is also a platform for principled solidarity. It is a message to the world that ASEAN is not only an economic bloc but a moral community that remembers its anti-colonial roots.
Some argue that international activism should focus on negotiations and statecraft, not symbolic voyages. But diplomacy without people’s movements is often sterile. The Oslo Accords promised peace but delivered entrenchment. The flotillas, by contrast, remind the world that the Palestinian struggle is not an abstract file in foreign ministries. It is flesh and blood, hunger and dignity, lived daily under siege.
The Sumud Flotilla also carries a warning: that normalization cannot proceed without justice. Several Arab governments have pursued ties with Israel in pursuit of stability or trade. But civil society, from Morocco to Malaysia, insists that the blockade of Gaza delegitimizes any talk of “peace.” The flotillas, though modest, puncture the illusion of normalcy. They insist that the world cannot look away.
To say the legacy is “in tatters” misunderstands history. Resistance movements are judged not by single outcomes but by cumulative effects. Gandhi’s Salt March did not end British colonialism overnight. Rosa Parks’s defiance did not end segregation instantly. But both moments became turning points, symbols larger than themselves. The Sumud Flotilla belongs in that lineage. Its voyages may be blocked, but its message cannot be stopped.
In the long arc of justice, small acts of resistance accumulate into seismic shifts. For Gaza, the flotillas have kept international attention alive during years when governments grew weary. They kept the vocabulary of resistance fresh. They reminded each new generation that to stand with Palestine is not to stand with violence, but with humanity.
Malaysia, as ASEAN Chair, should therefore keep the flotilla spirit alive. Not necessarily by sending ships, but by sending consistent signals: that blockades must end, that dignity is non-negotiable, and that Southeast Asia’s moral voice will not be silenced. ASEAN, often accused of being timid, can draw strength from this symbolism. Civil society, governments, and regional bodies must work together to ensure that Gaza is not forgotten.
The Sumud Flotilla’s history is not broken glass scattered on the waves. It is a thread woven into the larger tapestry of global conscience. Its legacy endures because it insists that steadfastness—sumud—is itself victory. Each voyage, whether intercepted or not, affirms that justice delayed is not justice denied, and that Gaza’s cry for freedom will continue to sail.
The flotilla sails on, in memory and in meaning. Its legacy is not in tatters. It is alive, stitched into the fabric of humanity’s struggle for dignity.
By Phar Kim Beng, PhD
Professor of ASEAN Studies, International Islamic University of Malaysia
Director, Institute of International and ASEAN Studies (IINTAS)
** The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the position of Astro AWANI.
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Its journeys across the Mediterranean Sea are not failures to break a blockade. They are testimonies that the cause of Gaza is alive, that civil society refuses to let the siege fade into silence.
When the Mavi Marmara was attacked in 2010, killing nine activists and wounding dozens, the world was shocked into awareness. For the first time in decades, the suffering of Gaza pierced international headlines not through official diplomacy but through citizen activism.
That moment established a legacy: even unarmed ships carrying medicines, books, and food could shake consciences more deeply than another sterile statement at the United Nations.
The Sumud Flotilla inherits that legacy. Each voyage has been intercepted, detained, or forced back by overwhelming Israeli naval power. But the point was never to match military might. The point was always to expose, to witness, to remind. Cargo could be seized; ships could be towed. Yet the symbolism of defiance could not be erased.
Just as importantly all six members of the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC), namely Saudi Arabia, United Arab Emirates (UAE), Bahrain, Oman, Kuwait and Qatar are most displeased with the air attack of Qatar when some Palestinian operatives were holding their meeting in the heart of Doha.
No GCC member has even been directly violated by Israel before. If anything, the apology of President Donald Trump has come too little too late. In spite of the assurance by him that no GCC member states would be attacked again. When GCC feels most vulnerable, it trusts the indefatigable spirit of ASEAN to challenge colonialism over and again. As personified by Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim the Group Chair of ASEAN and Related Summits.
At any rate, critics argue that repeated interception proves futility. But history shows otherwise. The anti-apartheid struggle in South Africa was built on campaigns that seemed inconsequential at the time—boycotts, cultural protests, sports bans. None broke apartheid in a single stroke. Together, they eroded its legitimacy until the system collapsed. Likewise, the flotillas keep eroding the legitimacy of Gaza’s blockade, exposing it as not just a security measure but collective punishment of two million people.
The word tatters are misplaced. The flotillas have not unravelled. They have multiplied narratives of resilience. In Europe, parliaments debated sanctions. In Latin America, solidarity movements gained new vigour. In Asia, particularly in Malaysia and Indonesia, the moral bond with Palestine deepened. Malaysian NGOs, students, and ordinary citizens followed the flotillas closely. They saw them as echoing their own history of resistance against colonialism.
This is why the Sumud Flotilla cannot be dismissed as a maritime failure. It is a moral lighthouse. The ships did not sink into oblivion. They lit paths of solidarity across continents. The blockade remains, but so does the voice of Gaza, amplified by civil society.
For Palestinians, sumud is not abstract. It is lived reality. Families rebuild their homes after every airstrike. Farmers return to their fields despite repeated destruction. Students go to class with intermittent electricity and scarce books. The flotilla, in name and action, reflects that same determination. Its international passengers choose to risk detention or injury because they recognize that silence would be the greater risk.
This is also why Southeast Asia, especially ASEAN, should care. ASEAN’s own history of standing against imperialism and foreign domination resonates with the flotilla’s spirit. The Bandung Declaration of 1955, which rejected colonialism and affirmed self-determination, lives on in this form of people’s diplomacy. When Malaysia, as ASEAN Chair, speaks for Palestine, it is not only diplomacy—it is continuity with its own past and with global civil society.
Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim has repeatedly emphasized that Gaza’s suffering is not a distant tragedy but a moral wound for humanity. His government’s support for humanitarian missions, including past flotillas, underscores that Malaysia’s chairmanship of ASEAN in 2025 is also a platform for principled solidarity. It is a message to the world that ASEAN is not only an economic bloc but a moral community that remembers its anti-colonial roots.
Some argue that international activism should focus on negotiations and statecraft, not symbolic voyages. But diplomacy without people’s movements is often sterile. The Oslo Accords promised peace but delivered entrenchment. The flotillas, by contrast, remind the world that the Palestinian struggle is not an abstract file in foreign ministries. It is flesh and blood, hunger and dignity, lived daily under siege.
The Sumud Flotilla also carries a warning: that normalization cannot proceed without justice. Several Arab governments have pursued ties with Israel in pursuit of stability or trade. But civil society, from Morocco to Malaysia, insists that the blockade of Gaza delegitimizes any talk of “peace.” The flotillas, though modest, puncture the illusion of normalcy. They insist that the world cannot look away.
To say the legacy is “in tatters” misunderstands history. Resistance movements are judged not by single outcomes but by cumulative effects. Gandhi’s Salt March did not end British colonialism overnight. Rosa Parks’s defiance did not end segregation instantly. But both moments became turning points, symbols larger than themselves. The Sumud Flotilla belongs in that lineage. Its voyages may be blocked, but its message cannot be stopped.
In the long arc of justice, small acts of resistance accumulate into seismic shifts. For Gaza, the flotillas have kept international attention alive during years when governments grew weary. They kept the vocabulary of resistance fresh. They reminded each new generation that to stand with Palestine is not to stand with violence, but with humanity.
Malaysia, as ASEAN Chair, should therefore keep the flotilla spirit alive. Not necessarily by sending ships, but by sending consistent signals: that blockades must end, that dignity is non-negotiable, and that Southeast Asia’s moral voice will not be silenced. ASEAN, often accused of being timid, can draw strength from this symbolism. Civil society, governments, and regional bodies must work together to ensure that Gaza is not forgotten.
The Sumud Flotilla’s history is not broken glass scattered on the waves. It is a thread woven into the larger tapestry of global conscience. Its legacy endures because it insists that steadfastness—sumud—is itself victory. Each voyage, whether intercepted or not, affirms that justice delayed is not justice denied, and that Gaza’s cry for freedom will continue to sail.
The flotilla sails on, in memory and in meaning. Its legacy is not in tatters. It is alive, stitched into the fabric of humanity’s struggle for dignity.
By Phar Kim Beng, PhD
Professor of ASEAN Studies, International Islamic University of Malaysia
Director, Institute of International and ASEAN Studies (IINTAS)
** The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the position of Astro AWANI.