by Lars-Jakob Harding Kællerød and Martin Lavička
In April 2025, a new name was introduced on the map of the Danish capital when a previously unnamed location in Nørrebro was officially designated Palæstinas Plads (Palestine’s Square). The decision followed several years of debate within the Copenhagen City Council (Borgerrepræsentationen). Rarely has the naming of a public space in Denmark sparked such strong emotions, both fierce opposition and passionate support, as the case of Palæstinas Plads.
Symbolic Politics or a Celebration of Freedom?
The idea of naming a square in Copenhagen after Palestine goes back to around the year 2000, when the left-wing party of Enhedslisten proposed renaming half of the existing Israels Plads (Israel’s Square) to commemorate Palestine. The proposal was rejected, but the idea lingered. Over the following decades, the name resurfaced periodically in discussions within Teknik- og Miljøudvalget (a committee that in general manages matters and decisions concerning naming and renaming streets and other locations in Copenhagen) and Vejnavnenævnet (a committee that pre-processes proposals concerning names for Teknik- og Miljøudvalget). However, each time, the plan for Palæstinas Plads was ultimately turned down. That happened again in 2023, when the political parties of Enhedslisten, Socialistisk Folkeparti, Radikale Venstre, and Alternativet jointly proposed naming an unnamed location in Nørrebro Palæstinas Plads. After the Hamas attack on October 7, however, the plan was shelved.
In June 2024, Vejnavnenævnet revived the idea, and a few months later, it was debated in Teknik- og Miljøudvalget. Typically, such decisions are made within that committee, but the Konservative party demanded that the issue be discussed by the entire City Council. The proposal was subsequently sent out for public consultation, during which 162 responses were received. Of these, 153 supported the name, while nine opposed it. Some objections argued that the Municipality of Copenhagen should not involve itself in international political matters, a concern also raised by several political parties that voted against the proposal. In March 2025, the City Council adopted the resolution by a narrow margin, 29 votes to 25, and a few weeks later, the official naming ceremony for Palæstinas Plads took place.
However, the champagne corks had barely popped before controversy erupted again. Within 24 hours, the new street signs were vandalised, when the name was painted over. Criticism also emerged from the political left, mainly over an explanatory subtitle added to the signs as it showed a political compromise: “Navngivet efter et område ved Middelhavets østlige bred” (“Named after an area on the eastern shores of the Mediterranean Sea”). On social media, critics argued that Palestine is not merely an area but a country. Activists soon placed stickers on the street signs, replacing the word “område” (area) with the word “land” (country). A few days later, new signs were installed on Palæstinas Plads; this time without any explanatory text.

In general, Palæstinas Plads is a name that divides opinion, with both politicians and citizens holding strong opinions about it. Some see it as a celebration of the Palestinians’ right to freedom after decades without a state, while others dismiss it as mere symbolic politics. Certain right-wing parties have even labelled the name an act of antisemitism. Critics argue that it is not the role of the City Council or the City of Copenhagen to take a position on international conflicts such as the one in the Middle East. However, Copenhagen is far from the only European city where political symbolism has entered the urban landscape through place naming. One striking example can be found in the Czech Republic.
Prague’s Streets Tell a Story of Resistance and Memory
In the heart of Europe, symbolic politics has taken tangible form on the streets of Prague. The Czech capital, known for its sharp wit and love of irony, has turned geography into a quiet but powerful statement against authoritarianism.
Czechs have long had a complicated relationship with Russia. Gratitude for the Soviet liberation of Czechoslovakia in 1945 curdled into resentment after the 1968 Warsaw Pact invasion crushed the Prague Spring, a hopeful experiment in “socialism with a human face.” The Soviet army stayed for more than two decades, a constant reminder of lost sovereignty. After 1989, the newly established Czech Republic maintained a cautious but pragmatic relationship with post-Soviet Russia. Trade and diplomacy continued, but trust was scarce. Over the past decade, however, Moscow’s growing expansionism and aggression in Europe have left clear marks, not only in policy but also in Prague’s urban landscape.
The transformation began symbolically. In 2016, activists launched a petition to rename the square in front of the Russian Embassy. Four years later, on February 27, 2020, the Prague City Council made it official: náměstí Pod kaštany (Under the Chestnut Trees Square) became náměstí Borise Němcova (Boris Nemtsov’s Square), honouring the Russian opposition leader and vocal critic of Vladimir Putin who was assassinated in Moscow in 2015. That same day, a nearby pathway was christened promenáda Anny Politkovské (Anna Politkovskaya’s Promenade), in memory of the investigative journalist and fierce defender of human rights murdered in 2006. The move sparked criticism from former President Miloš Zeman, long seen as sympathetic to Moscow, who called it “a classic example of a petty little Czech attempt to get back at someone while hiding behind a tree.” Former ambassador to Russia Jaroslav Bašta went even further, denouncing it as an act of Russophobia. Still, most members of the Prague City Council stood by the decision, reflecting the mood of a public largely supportive of the gesture. For many Prague residents, renaming the streets near the Russian Embassy was not an act of hostility but a statement of solidarity with Russian dissidents and a reminder of the Czech Republic’s own struggle against Soviet domination.
The embassy tried to sidestep the uncomfortable symbolism by changing its official address to a nearby street. However, in April 2022, just weeks after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, Prague struck again, renaming that street Ukrajinských hrdinů (Ukrainian Heroes Street) and dedicating a nearby bridge to Vitalii Skakun, the Ukrainian soldier who sacrificed his life blowing up a bridge to halt the Russian advance on Kherson.
In 2021, an overlook in the park above the embassy was informally renamed Vyhlídka Alexeje Navalného (Alexei Navalny Outlook), commemorating another leading Russian opposition figure who died in prison in 2024. Though the name is not yet official, it has already entered local usage, another act of quiet defiance.
On the map, the Russian Embassy in Prague now stands encircled by tributes to those who resisted the Kremlin’s repression. For passersby, it is a geography of conscience, a subtle yet unmissable reminder that in Prague, memory and mockery often walk hand in hand.

A matter of political solidarity!
Palæstinas Plads and Ukrajinských hrdinů, together with the other recently renamed streets, honouring figures who have resisted Putin’s regime, are in different ways motivated by a political interest of showing solidarity with a (suppressed) people, and equally to distance themselves from those seen as the suppressors. Such acts of naming do not stop wars or change the world. However, perhaps they contribute to awareness, which may make a difference after all. In Prague, all official correspondence to and from the Russian Embassy carries an address that serves as a reminder of the Ukrainian heroes, while Palæstinas Plads in Copenhagen stands as a marker of diversity, solidarity, and inclusion. At a time when political considerations increasingly influence place names, these examples stand out. In January 2025, only a few days after taking office, the American president instructed the Secretary of the Interior that the Gulf of Mexico should henceforth be referred to as the Gulf of America. At the same time, the country’s highest peak was renamed Mount McKinley, after the former president Obama in 2015 had changed the name from Mount McKinley to Denali in honour of the Native Americans’ name for the mountain in Alaska. These changes, justified as being made “…in honor of American greatness” and “…in the national interest to promote the extraordinary heritage of our nation and ensure future generations of American citizens celebrate the legacy of our American heroes,” as stated by the White House, demonstrate the power inherent in place names. While the American renamings express a form of politics that “kicks downwards,” Palæstinas Plads and Ukrajinských hrdinů represent the opposite: names given in solidarity with the suppressed.