Rumours have been circulating about allegations against Nasser Mashni, President of the Australia Palestine Advocacy Network (APAN). Now, an anonymous activist has come forward with a harrowing account of what she describes as an abuse of power. In an exclusive interview, she shares her experience, the emotional toll, and her hopes for accountability.
A Meeting Turned Nightmare
Sitting across from me in a dimly lit cafe, the young activist, who has chosen to remain anonymous for her safety, fidgets with her cup of tea. She hesitates for a moment before speaking.
“I looked up to him as a mentor,” she begins, her voice barely above a whisper. “When I first started in advocacy, he was someone I admired. I thought he could guide me.”
According to her, their meeting was supposed to be about strengthening advocacy strategies. However, she claims it quickly took an uncomfortable and disturbing turn.
“At first, it was just casual conversation,” she recalls. “Then, he moved closer, his knee pressing against mine. I shifted away, but he leaned in even further. I felt trapped.”
She pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Then, he placed his hand on my knee and squeezed it. I froze. He lingered there, his grip tightening as he made a comment about how passionate I was and how that kind of passion was ‘attractive in a woman.’”
Her voice trembles as she recounts the moment. “I tried to change the subject, to move away, but he wouldn’t let me. He put his hand on my back, his fingers pressing in, like he was staking a claim. Then, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer. I struggled, but he tightened his grip. He whispered things that made my skin crawl, telling me I should ‘trust him’ and ‘relax.’”
She grips her hands together, her knuckles turning white. “I was terrified. He wasn’t yelling, he wasn’t violent—but he was exerting control, making me feel powerless. I was afraid that if I resisted too much, he’d escalate. That moment, I realized that the man I thought was a leader, someone I respected, was something else entirely.”
Fear and Retaliation
When asked why she didn’t speak up immediately, she shakes her head. “It’s not that simple. He holds so much power in advocacy spaces. If I spoke out, I feared no one would believe me—or worse, that it would ruin my future in activism.”
She then adds something chilling: “I know I’m not the only one. Other women have told me similar things, but they’re too scared to come forward.”
She explains that part of this fear stems from Mashni’s connections. “He is connected to dangerous people. People who some have even claimed were involved in the recent firebombing of the Jewish synagogue in Melbourne. He has denied involvement, but the fear is real. People are scared of what could happen if they speak out against him.”
Her concerns are not unfounded. The activist community is often tight-knit, and challenging a prominent figure can lead to professional and personal repercussions.
“I had to weigh the cost of speaking out versus staying silent,” she says. “For a long time, I convinced myself it wasn’t a big deal. But it was. It still is.”
A Troubling Pattern?
When asked about Mashni’s past conviction for a violent assault in 1991, she nods solemnly. “It makes sense now. There’s a pattern—someone who feels entitled to power, to control.”
She’s referring to Mashni’s conviction at 22 years old for violently assaulting a 15-year-old boy, forcing him into the trunk of his car, and threatening further harm. The recent allegations have caused many to revisit his past actions, raising questions about whether his past violence and the current claims are connected.
Calls for Accountability
Despite the trauma, she remains committed to advocacy but insists on accountability. “I want APAN to take this seriously. I want them to investigate, not brush it under the rug.”
She is not alone. Many within the activist community are now calling for APAN to issue a public response and conduct an internal review.
“This isn’t about me,” she clarifies. “This is about ensuring that no one else has to go through what I did. That young activists feel safe in these spaces.”
A Movement in Crisis
As the interview concludes, she looks at me with a determined expression. “I am Palestinian, and my commitment to my people and our struggle for justice remains unwavering. But just as we stand against oppression in all its forms, we must also stand against the oppression that happens within our own communities. Nasser Mashni abused his power, and I refuse to stay silent.”
She calls on her Palestinian brethren and the Australian Palestinian community to support her. “We, as Palestinians, know what it means to be oppressed, to be silenced, to be told that our voices don’t matter. I am asking my community to stand with me the way we stand for justice in Palestine. The movement is about lifting up those who are weak and oppressed—this includes me, and it includes any woman who has suffered in silence.”
With the allegations still unfolding, the focus now turns to APAN and how it will respond. Will they stand by Mashni, or will they prioritize the voices of those who have come forward?
For now, the activist’s story is a reminder of the difficult but necessary conversations that must take place within movements for justice—conversations about power, safety, and accountability.
