In her latest cover feature for British GQ, Nobel laureate Malala Yousafzai spoke candidly about activism in the age of scrutiny, her unwavering commitment to girls’ education, and why, despite popular demands, she has no intention of joining Pakistan’s political fray. The global icon also confronted the toll of staying silent at a time when thousands are being killed. In a climate where vocal solidarity for Palestine has led to many celebrities losing out on roles and other job opportunities, Malala’s measured activism has been fiercely scrutinised. Her statements have been called out for pandering to the West, and criticised for being too diplomatic. Her October 11, 2023 response to Israel’s assault on Gaza faced significant criticism. While she called for an “urgent” ceasefire, she addressed both “Palestinian and Israeli children caught in the middle.” Many argued that her delayed response and eventual diplomatic words failed to adequately address the severity of Israel’s actions. This criticism amplified when she collaborated with former US secretary of state Hillary Clinton on the Broadway musical Suffs. Clinton’s well-documented support for Israel’s military actions raised questions about the appropriateness of partnering with a figure linked to policies that have adversely affected Muslim communities. Her measured statements came off as “both-sidesism,” contrasting sharply with the unequivocal condemnations of Israel’s actions by other prominent figures such as singer Kehlani, poet Rupi Kaur, and actor Melissa Barrera, who was fired from the Scream franchise for her support of Palestine. GQ, however, drew a pointed parallel between the kind of criticism she received to that faced by Amal Clooney — the human rights lawyer who faced weeks of outrage for her “silence” on Gaza, only for it to later emerge that she had been advising the International Criminal Court in a case pursuing arrest warrants against Israeli and Hamas leaders. “My approach is not to provide a running commentary of my work,” Clooney later said. “But to let the work speak for itself.” On accusations of ‘silence’ on Gaza Over the years, Malala has been accused of being everything from a CIA asset to a Zionist agent, and when asked about it, Malala quipped, “Yeah, sometimes I feel like I’m working for all the agencies. Even they might be confused.” She offered a thoughtful response to the nature of modern advocacy. “I’ve been through that phase where I was giving a lot of statements,” she said. “And you realise the statements only stay in the news cycle for 24 hours. They can build momentum for a time. But I don’t think they are sufficient. Sometimes they’re not helpful. There’s a lot more you can do,” she said. “Activism is not limited to what you do in your public life,” Malala said. “There’s a lot you can do in your private life as well.” These days, the magazine mused, her influence is often wielded through private channels: letters, phone calls, and direct messages to policymakers — all without media fanfare. “That’s how you can secure a call sometimes,” she said. “There has to be accountability against any power, any government who is violating human rights, who is violating international law.” For Malala, the issue also goes beyond politics. “I don’t think I can ever understand the life of a Palestinian for the past 70 years…every place has its own long history,” she said. “And that can make it difficult to say words that do justice to what the actual people have suffered through.” Malala believes in the right to resist oppression but draws a firm line against harming innocents. “Violence takes us three, four steps back. My experience tells me it gives the perpetrators [the opportunity to] use it as an excuse to further justify their [actions].” Ultimately, she refused to be the centre of the story. “There’s a shift happening,” she said. “Our attention should be less on figures like me, and more on the voices of those directly affected.” On running for prime minister When author Adam Baidawi asked if she’s thought about running for prime minister of Pakistan, Malala’s response was unequivocal, “Can I imagine being in office in Pakistan in the next 10, 15 years? No. Because I believe that we need leaders who are more qualified, more experienced, and who could do a better job.” Her influence, she believes, is already making an impact — and in some cases, beyond the reach of politics. She noted that through the Malala Fund, she is already addressing the issues she finds most untenable in Pakistan, including forced labour and child marriages. “Pakistani prime ministers do not have an easy life,” she added. “For a prime minister to be effective, they have to be at the right stage in their life and have a very clear vision. And in Pakistan, when you get into politics, you have to make so many sacrifices — it could include your own life as well — that you need to make sure that you are fully prepared for that journey,” continued Malala. For now, in addition to humanitarian work, Malala is pursuing a normal adulthood. With her husband Asser Malik, she is also investing in women’s sports. Their latest initiative, Recess, is designed to shift perceptions and invest in a space that is still widely neglected. “It was so normal and so common [in Swat] that nobody even questioned it. Boys would play cricket, and girls stayed behind,” she said of her school days. From rugby matches in Twickenham to meetings with Billie Jean King, Malala’s vision for the project is clear — elevate, disrupt, and challenge societal norms through sport. The platform forms part of a broader “Malala Universe,” as GQ put it, one that includes tactical interventions through the Malala Fund and symbolic cultural work via her production company Extracurricular. That production arm backed Joyland, the critically acclaimed, Cannes-winning Pakistani film partly banned at home for its portrayal of a love story involving a trans woman. Education, though, remains at the heart of it all — especially for girls in Afghanistan. On gender apartheid and the UN’s role Since the Taliban’s return to power in 2021, at least 2.5 million Afghan girls have been locked out of education. “There is no definition that can actually meet the scale of these oppressive laws,” she said. Through the Malala Fund, the activist has supported underground schools, remote learning via WhatsApp, and international lobbying efforts to have “gender apartheid” recognised as a crime against humanity. She has, over many years and hundreds of meetings, felt a shifting dynamic with world leaders. “I have definitely grown more cynical. You know, it’s a lot easier for people to be there for you once you have survived. Once you are out of the rubble,” she said. “But is there anyone who could come and take you out? Who would come and save you? That’s the way my perspective has changed about the world: that there is less immediate, urgent action. And it’s very, very slow.” Malala recalled a private phone call to UN Secretary-General António Guterres about the Doha talks. The Taliban had demanded that no Afghan women be included in the discussions — and the UN conceded. “You’re literally giving the Taliban an opportunity to push their narrative,” she had warned him. The talks went ahead without any women present. “And then you invite women a day after? To talk about what?” These questions, she argued, point to a larger crisis in international governance. “If we’re not able to resolve wars and conflicts, if we’re not able to bring justice and peace, then we need to reflect on how we have set up these institutions and how they work,” she said. Still, she resists calls to abolish the systems entirely. “I don’t think that suddenly we can dismiss the UN,” she said. “I’m not of the view that you should dismiss all these institutions, even if you’re cynical. Because if you don’t have a plan B, you should not get rid of what’s already in place.” All images via British GQ