https://arab.news/29ycs
When wars erupt, journalists are often the first casualties — not always in terms of physical harm, but in the silencing of their ability to bear witness. In Gaza, however, the war on journalism is not incidental. It is systematic, deliberate and persistent.
Since the onset of the current conflict, dozens of Palestinian journalists have been killed, many others injured or detained and media facilities bombed into rubble. Israel’s repeated actions against reporters raise a fundamental question: Why does a state that insists it is “defending democracy” go to such lengths to suppress those tasked with telling the truth?
The answer lies in the power of narrative. Wars are not fought only with weapons; they are waged with stories, images and the shaping of public perception. In this arena, Israel has always been acutely aware that its ability to maintain international support — especially in Western capitals — depends on controlling the flow of information. Gaza poses a direct threat to this strategy.
The reality of life under siege — bombed hospitals, starving families, mass displacement — contradicts Israel’s carefully crafted narrative of surgical precision and self-defense. Journalists, especially local Palestinian reporters, expose these contradictions in real time, dismantling state propaganda with images too raw to be ignored.
Palestinian journalists are the backbone of Gaza’s information lifeline. Unlike foreign correspondents, who often work from afar or under restricted access, local reporters live the reality they cover. They know the neighborhoods, the families, the rhythms of daily life. When bombs fall, they are the first to arrive — not only as professionals but as members of the community. Their work carries authenticity that no press release or official statement can overshadow.
Israel has always been acutely aware that its ability to maintain international support depends on controlling the flow of information
Hani Hazaimeh
For Israel, this authenticity is dangerous. The testimonies of Gazan journalists reveal not only the destruction of infrastructure, but the human face of war: children buried under rubble, mothers mourning their dead, doctors collapsing from exhaustion. These images evoke empathy and outrage around the world. To silence these voices is to erase the possibility of accountability.
This is why so many Palestinian journalists have been killed while wearing clearly marked press vests, why media offices have been reduced to dust and why the communications infrastructure in Gaza has been repeatedly disabled. By cutting off the storytellers, Israel seeks to cut off the story.
The silencing strategy extends beyond Gaza’s borders. Israel has consistently restricted the access of international journalists to the enclave, citing “security concerns.” In practice, this means that much of the world’s reporting on Gaza relies either on official Israeli statements or the work of Palestinian reporters who are themselves under fire. The result is a media environment skewed in favor of state-controlled narratives.
When international media outlets do gain access, they often face intense pressure, scrutiny or outright harassment. Foreign correspondents have spoken of being embedded under Israeli military supervision, limiting their ability to report independently. Others recount being smeared or attacked online by pro-Israel lobbying groups whenever they publish material critical of Israeli conduct. This climate of intimidation fosters self-censorship, ensuring that even when Gaza is covered, it is often through a diluted lens.
At the heart of this war on journalists is fear — not fear of terrorism, as Israel often claims, but fear of accountability. Documentation is the first step toward justice. Images, eyewitness accounts and field reports form the backbone of investigations into war crimes and human rights violations. The International Criminal Court and other bodies rely on such evidence to determine culpability. Every story filed by a Gazan journalist is a potential piece of testimony in the future.
Israel knows this. The killing of journalists and destruction of media archives serve not only an immediate military purpose, but a longer-term legal one: erasing the paper trail. In this sense, silencing journalism is not collateral damage; it is preemptive damage control.
The global response to the targeting of journalists in Gaza exposes a glaring double standard. When a journalist is detained in Russia or when media outlets are censored in China, Western governments issue sharp condemnations. Yet when Palestinian journalists are killed in Gaza, the reaction is often muted, couched in vague language about “the risks of war reporting.” This inconsistency is not lost on Arab publics, which see it as proof that the so-called defenders of press freedom apply their principles selectively, depending on who the violator is.
This double standard weakens the credibility of international human rights advocacy and emboldens governments worldwide to treat the press as expendable. If Israel can kill journalists with impunity, what prevents other states from following suit?
Israel’s war on journalism in Gaza is not merely a local issue. It is a global one. The principles at stake — press freedom, accountability, the right to truth — form the foundation of international order. If these are eroded in Gaza, they are eroded everywhere.
At the heart of this war on journalists is fear — not fear of terrorism, as Israel often claims, but fear of accountability
Hani Hazaimeh
Furthermore, the systematic targeting of journalists deepens the humanitarian catastrophe. When the media cannot operate freely, humanitarian organizations struggle to raise awareness, policymakers lack credible information and the suffering of civilians is prolonged. Silencing journalists does not stop the crisis; it magnifies it.
The international community must break the cycle of silence. That begins with recognizing the killing of journalists in Gaza for what it is: a violation of international law and a deliberate assault on press freedom. The UN, the International Federation of Journalists and advocacy groups like Reporters Without Borders have already raised alarms. But statements are not enough. There must be independent investigations, accountability mechanisms and consequences for those who obstruct the free press.
Equally important, media organizations worldwide must stand in solidarity with their colleagues in Gaza. This means amplifying their voices, sharing their reporting and refusing to allow state propaganda to drown them out. It also means confronting the pressure of lobby groups and political interests and reasserting journalism’s core mission: to seek truth and report it, no matter how inconvenient.
In Gaza, journalism itself has become a form of resistance — not resistance through violence but through truth. Every article filed, every photograph shared and every live broadcast transmitted under bombardment represents defiance against efforts to erase a people’s story.
Israel’s systematic targeting of journalists reflects its awareness that wars are lost not only on the battlefield but in the arena of global opinion. By silencing the chroniclers of Gaza’s suffering, it seeks to win a war of narratives. But history suggests otherwise. Attempts to suppress the truth often make it more powerful. The more Israel tries to prevent the world from seeing Gaza, the more the world demands to see.
The real question, then, is not whether Israel will continue to target journalists. It will. The question is whether the international community — and the profession of journalism itself — will allow such attacks to succeed.
Because when journalism dies in Gaza, it does not die alone. It takes with it the hope of justice, the possibility of peace and the very idea that truth still matters in a world increasingly dominated by propaganda.
- Hani Hazaimeh is a senior editor based in Amman. X: @hanihazaimeh