Youssef Jajili
In 2009, I covered the Gaza war known as Operation Cast Lead. International journalists, including myself, assembled in tents at El Arish crossing, on the Egyptian-Palestinian border, hoping to directly cover the news in the Gaza Strip. This was before social media empowered Gazans to broadcast live from their phones to ours. Yet it is important to remember that we can’t equate professional journalism and social media.
Journalists cover the news, but today journalists are the news. In this current conflict journalists have been killed in Gaza, Lebanon, and Israel. The Committee to Protect Journalists reported at least 68 journalists and media workers have died in this war since Oct. 7, the deadliest period for journalists since the organization started compiling data three decades ago.
This is not the whole story. According to Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International, journalists are actively being targeted. The fate of journalists in Gaza is especially poignant because they provide a window into a world that has been cut off from international press and independent reporting (with the exception of one CNN journalist). Their lives matter. Journalists write the first draft of history.
The Geneva Convention, a fundamental part of international humanitarian law, requires protection of civilians and journalists during armed conflict. But in Gaza, it’s almost as though journalists are being treated as combatants. Their deaths have become mere numbers, counted among the death toll of more than 20,000. One might cynically conclude that the deaths of nearly six dozen journalists is just par for the course in a war that is marked by indiscriminate bombing. But these journalists were informing the world, providing understanding and footage of Israel’s relentless assault that numbers and statistics alone cannot capture.
In fact, faced with this terrible number of journalist deaths, on Dec.15, five U.S. senators wrote a letter to President Joe Biden asking for greater protection for journalists in Gaza and for foreign journalists to be allowed in: “We write to you today because we are deeply concerned about the inability of international journalists to enter and report from Gaza and the lack of safety for journalists covering the war in Gaza, which keeps the public from understanding the full dimensions of this war.” They also called on Egypt and Israel to lift restrictions on reporting from Gaza.
When I first attempted to enter Gaza with my tape recorder and notebook in 2009, the Egyptian authorities blocked me and other journalists from doing so without the written consent of our embassies. This was quite unusual, but I was hungry to report from Gaza. I already had a letter signed by my boss at Al-Masaa newspaper saying that my assignment required me to enter Gaza. But I had to drive eight hours across the Sinai Desert to the Moroccan Embassy in Cairo, where I showed officials that letter to get the additional paperwork I needed for the Egyptian authorities.
I was surprised by a strange request from the Moroccan consular official: “You must sign a complete waiver to absolve the Kingdom of Morocco of responsibility if you are subjected to harm or killed.” I was excited to report from Gaza and signed the document without a second thought, and it wasn’t until much later that I noted how strange it was for my country to make me sign a waiver of liability should I die in a foreign land.
Now the killing of journalists in Gaza is being normalized with no one taking responsibility.
Journalists are also suffering in other ways. On air, there are heartbreaking and dramatic scenes of those who receive devastating news about their families while carrying out their journalistic duties. Who can forget the face of Wael Dahdouh? The Al Jazeera correspondent received the news of the killing of his wife, children, and several members of his family as he was live on air describing the Israeli advance on Gaza. We watched his heart break in real time.
In the Middle East, Dahdouh is seen as the face of Gaza. Every time the region catches fire, an Al Jazeera anchor says, “And now to Wael Dahdouh” and we, the Arab audience, immediately know the reporting will center on a tragedy inside Gaza. Recently, Dahdouh was badly wounded, and yet he continued to report with bandages on his arms.
The Wael I met in 2009 was a vibrant young journalist. Thin with dark hair, he possessed a great determination to be the voice of his people to the world. I was introduced to him by Muhammad Issa Saadallah, a journalist in Gaza at Al-Ayyam newspaper, who is famous for guiding foreign journalists through the area. Saadallah is a consummate professional and a tireless advocate for Palestinian justice. I wonder about his fate in this brutal war, as I have not received any updates.
Last year, the world was stunned by the killing of Palestinian American journalist Shireen Abu Akleh as she reported from the West Bank city of Jenin. In a landmark 2021 video, she recounted: “In the difficult moments, I overcame my fear because I chose journalism in order to be close to the people. It might not be easy for me to change the reality, but at least I was able to convey the people’s message and voice to the world.”
In May, a year after her death, the Israel Defense Forces apologized for her killing after conceding a “high possibility” that she was shot by an Israeli soldier. Speaking about her death, chief IDF spokesman Rear Adm. Daniel Hagari said, “We want journalists to feel safe in Israel, especially in wartime.”
How empty these words feel right now.
Today journalists are dying in this war at a staggering rate with zero accountability from the IDF. If this pace continues, who will be left to accurately report from this conflict zone?
Youssef Jajili is an award-winning Moroccan journalist, writer and documentarian.
