Night and Fog

During World War II, specifically on December 7, 1941, Adolf Hitler ordered Nazi Marshal Heinrich Himmler to issue a directive to the Gestapo, the German secret police. The instructions read:

“The Führer, after long and thorough consideration, has decided that the measures taken against those who commit crimes against the Reich or the German military in occupied territories must be changed. Effective and decisive actions must be implemented to achieve this objective.”

The decree, known as “Night and Fog”, aimed to silence anti-Nazi activists and resistance fighters during the war. Political prisoners from across Germany and occupied Europe, including those who opposed Nazism or led resistance movements in Western Europe, were systematically rounded up.

This operation marked the beginning of a brutal campaign. The decree stated that only severe measures, such as the death penalty, could deter such “criminals.” Once the operation began, prisoners disappeared without a trace. Families were denied information about their loved ones’ whereabouts or fate.

The primary goal of “Night and Fog” was to instill fear in the populations of occupied territories, compelling them into submission. Prisoners were secretly transported to Germany, where their existence vanished from official records. By the time the German secret police files were discovered in 1945, they contained no details about the prisoners’ fates or burial sites.

The Nuremberg Military Tribunal later declared “Night and Fog” a war crime. It was deemed a grave violation of international law, including the Hague Conventions, and stands as one of the most harrowing examples of enforced disappearances in modern history.

The Modern-Day Echo

As World War II ended, a new era dawned, introducing fresh norms in international relations. Yet, despite these developments, the concept of enforced disappearances lingers, as seen in the case of the Egyptian poet and activist Abdelrahman Youssef. His story illustrates how contemporary international relations can resemble a labyrinth, where justice and accountability remain elusive.

Abdulrahman Youssef, a Turkish of Egyptian origin, traveled to Syria before being detained in Lebanon and subsequently deported to the UAE. This sequence of events occurred despite the absence of any charges or legal grounds for his arrest. The last known contact with Abdulrahman was when he was in Beirut’s General Security building, after which he disappeared .

According to international human rights law, enforced disappearance occurs when a person is abducted or imprisoned by a state or political organization—or with their support or consent—followed by a refusal to disclose the individual’s fate or location. This practice places the victim beyond the protection of the law.

Legal and Ethical Dilemmas

The Qatari Lawyer and writer Khalifa Al Mahmoud explains that international law distinguishes between two key terms: “wanted” and “criminal.”

A “wanted” individual is someone accused but not yet tried and has likely sought refuge in another country. The requesting state seeks their extradition for trial.

A “criminal” is someone convicted through a final judicial verdict.

In Abdulrahman’s case, there was no legal basis for his extradition under domestic or international law. The absence of binding agreements between the involved states makes the situation even murkier. Most extradition agreements are driven by shared governance models or mutual interests, and states often act based on political expediency rather than legal obligations.

Furthermore, international norms generally prohibit the extradition of individuals for political crimes, trivial offenses, or when dual criminality (recognition of the offense in both jurisdictions) is absent. Yet, these principles are increasingly overlooked in politically motivated cases.

A Warning for the Future

What happened to Abdelrahman Youssef—from his detention at the Syrian-Lebanese border to his disappearance—is a blatant violation of international law. It should have been met with widespread condemnation, yet the deafening silence surrounding his case bodes ill for human rights.

As history reminds us, “Night and Fog” left an indelible mark as a weapon of fear and control. Today, the lack of accountability in similar cases reveals an unsettling truth: enforced disappearances remain a tool of oppression, shrouded in secrecy, to silence dissent. The world must not ignore this chilling legacy.