In war, a journalist’s life is worth no more than that of any civilian. But when journalists are deliberately and systematically targeted, as Israel is doing in Gaza, one must ask: why? The usual explanation—once again circulating now—is that it’s an attempt to silence information. No. It’s something else.
Israel bombed Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis, in southern Gaza. Nineteen people were killed, among them four journalists. One of the victims was 33-year-old Mariam Abu Dagga, who also wrote for the Associated Press.
The Geneva Conventions protect journalists in conflict zones just as they protect civilians. Israel disregards this—hardly the only state to do so in wartime, but that is not the point. Since the start of its war on Gaza, both civilians and journalists have been treated as legitimate targets.
The killing of the four reporters has once again drawn international outrage—though increasingly faint. Over two hundred media workers have been killed in the Strip since October 2023. Israel’s justification is not worth repeating.
The explanation most often offered by media outlets, colleagues, and analysts is this: Israel kills journalists to prevent images and reports from Gaza from reaching the outside world. I disagree, and I wrote so in my book Gaza. Dispatches from the Oblivion Zone (Redea, 2024).
Many of the images reaching us from the Strip are taken by ordinary citizens. They already provide a comprehensive, up-to-date picture of a devastating reality. Killing Gaza’s journalists serves a different, twofold purpose.
First: to show that all legal and humanitarian barriers have been shattered. Once journalists are killed, no limit remains. No one is safe. The aim is to sow terror through an unrestrained campaign of violence.
Second: Gaza’s journalists are Palestinians. For them, reporting is not only a professional choice, but also a form of resistance—through testimony, images, and words. Israel seeks to break that resistance as well, to impose on the population a sense of desolate helplessness and total abandonment, of absolute worthlessness.
In my book, I argued that Israel’s decision to block foreign journalists from entering Gaza should be read as a way to avoid Western casualties—deaths that would force governments to react. Today, however, those governments remain silent.
To claim that Israel bars foreign reporters to prevent them from witnessing and describing the reality of Gaza is, in effect, to say—without saying it—that Palestinian journalists cannot be trusted. But the world has been seeing Gaza for nearly two years now, and has done nothing to stop the massacre. Are we really waiting for Western correspondents before acting?
In memory of Mariam Abu Dagga (freelance), Hossam al-Masri (Reuters), Mohammed Salama (Al Jazeera), and Moaz Abu Taha (NBC), killed in the August 25, 2025 attack on Khan Younis, along with rescuers and other civilians.
(gianluca grossi)