The CRLDHT was deeply saddened to learn of the passing, on October 20, 2026, of Youssef Habache, a Palestinian activist, journalist, and representative in Europe of the Palestinian Journalists’ Union. Close to many people actively involved in our Committee, he was also our comrade in the struggle at the Social Forums, for civil liberties in Tunisia and the Maghreb, and within the movement for solidarity with Palestine.
His voice, his commitment, and his loyalty will be missed by both the Palestinian cause and the international solidarity movement.
The CRLDHT extends its sincere condolences to his partner, Marion, his children, Khedher-Yolan and Taïmen, as well as to his entire family in Ramallah and his loved ones.
Below is the tribute that Mouhieddine Cherbib wrote for him.
May he rest in peace.
Youssef, my friend, my comrade,
For more than seventeen years, we walked side by side. We shared so many struggles and difficult situations: from Palestine to Tunisia, to Paris, to Lebanon, to Turkey, to Nepal, to sub-Saharan Africa, to Latin America, and even through the tragedy in Gaza. Wherever human dignity was threatened, you were there. You dedicated your life to Palestine, to democracy, to freedom of the press, and to solidarity among peoples, and your voice never faltered.
I remember our trip to Palestine, barely a year before October 7, with the REF- (Réseau Euromed France) delegation, on a mission to meet with Palestinian civil society. With you, doors opened everywhere: activists of all political stripes, human rights organizations like Al-Haq and Addameer, feminist groups, labor unions, political parties—in Ramallah, Jerusalem, Hebron, and all the way to Haifa, with our friend Ahmed Jradat, a former prisoner and activist in Hebron, who also passed away four months ago. We shared unforgettable moments there.
Nor do I forget our visit to the home of Ahmed Saadat, who is in prison, and our meeting with his wife, Abla Saadat, or our visit to the home of Marwan Barghouti, who is also in prison, where we met his wife, Fadwa Barghouti, and his grandson, Marwan. Thanks to you, these doors were opened to us, and these moments of shared experience and dignity will remain etched in my memory.
It was in Ramallah that I learned your nickname, “Zouzou.” I was struck by how popular you were: we couldn’t walk ten meters with you without stopping two or three times to greet you, talk to you, and reminisce—about the struggles at Bir Zeit University during the Second Intifada, where you were one of the young leaders, and about your fellow prisoners in the Israeli occupation army’s jails.
Ramallah loves you, and as I walked beside you, I realized why.
You opened the doors to your homeland—Palestine—and to your family home, where I spent time with your mother, your brothers and sisters, and your friends. There, I formed a true friendship that I will cherish for the rest of my life.
I remember our shared struggles in the Maghreb Social Forum and the Maghreb-Mashreq Forum, alongside our comrades and fellow activists Kamel Lhabib, Hamouda, Maher, Aziz, Alaa, Abderrahman, Driss, and others—Palestinians, Moroccans, Tunisians, Algerians, and international activists.
I also remember the World Social Forums—from Porto Alegre to Nepal, Mexico, and Tunis in 2013 and 2015. Everywhere you went, you gave a strong voice to Palestine, brought together a large number of Palestinian civil society activists, organized debates, and placed the Palestinian issue at the center of these major global gatherings. For years, through your organization, the Committee for Development and Heritage—a member of our federation, the FTCR—you also made a point of being present with a Palestine booth at the Fête de l’Humanité.
And I remember the last forum, in Cotonou, Benin: you had arranged everything for the Palestinian delegation, whom you had brought in from Ramallah and Gaza. Your illness prevented you from attending, but you still followed and organized—from a distance—every meeting to ensure its success. Until the very end, you remained loyal to your comrades and your commitments.
Nor do I forget how you stood by us—my wife Saida and me—when my son Hamza passed away eight years ago.
Youssef, my friend, my brother—I also called you my son.
Three weeks ago, I came to see you in Brussels. Your mother, sister, and brother had traveled all the way from Palestine to be with you. We were all together with Marion, your sons, and some of your friends. I didn’t know it would be the last time, but I’m grateful to life for giving me that moment.
To the courageous Marion, to Yolan-Khedher and Tainem, to your mother, to your brothers and sisters, and to your entire family, I offer my deepest sympathy and affection. You were fortunate to have a man with a big heart—a loving husband and father. He lives on in you, and in your loving son.
The void is immense. But what you have sown will not fade away: your courage, your loyalty, and your generosity will continue to live on in us, who refuse to give up on justice and hope. Long live Palestine!
Rest in peace, Zouzou.
Farewell, my brother; farewell, comrade.
You will always remain in my heart.
Brussels, October 24, 2026
