AI supercharges human rights violations against civilians

Written by Safa

Hebron’s Al-Shuhada Street checkpoint with at least 8 CCTV cameras and the Smart Shooter in view. Photo by AV, used with permission. 2024.

( Globalvoices.org) – Data collection and technology can have harmful applications, especially when used to monitor and subjugate marginalized people. This can be seen most clearly in how Israel has used technology in its war against Palestinians. Israel is using data collected from Palestinians to train AI-powered automated tools that have been deployed against Gaza and across the West Bank.

Israeli AI-supercharged surveillance tools and spyware, including Pegasus, a malware program, and AI weaponry, including the Smart Shooter and Lavender, have received both condemnation and interest. Graduates of the Israeli military’s elite intelligence unit, Unit 8200, are so coveted by surveillance and military tech companies that there is a term “8200-to-tech pipeline”.

In 2024, UN experts deplored Israel’s use of AI to commit crimes against humanity in Gaza. Regardless of their ongoing use of AI for human rights violations, that same year, Israel signed a global treaty on AI developed by the Council of Europe for safeguarding human rights.

A ‘gamified’ surveillance system

Israel’s CCTV systems, called “Mabat 2000”, were first installed throughout Jerusalem in the year 2000 but have seen significant upgrades in more recent years. A 2023 report by Amnesty International mapped the visible Israeli surveillance system and found one or two cameras every five meters in Jerusalem’s Old City and Sheikh Jarrah. One Palestinian resident said, “Every time I see a camera, I feel anxious. Like you are always being treated as if you are a target.” Israeli CCTV cameras are also mounted on checkpoints and barriers and clustered on buildings and towers across the occupied West Bank.

A Palestinian home in Sheikh Jarrah, with an Israeli settlement on top. There are approximately eight CCTV cameras visible in the photo. Clusters of surveillance cameras can be identified on the pole to the right and surrounding the Star of David and Israeli flags at the top. Photo by the author, used with permission. 2024.

Since 2020, the Wolf Pack of surveillance tech has been rolled out by Israel across the Occupied Palestinian Territories. Using the app called Blue Wolf, Israel carried out a massive biometrics registry of Palestinians, often at checkpoints and by gunpoint, sometimes at people’s private homes in the middle of the night.

The gendered aspect of surveillance was noted in a 2021 report by 7amleh, with one female interviewee explaining that she would sleep in her hijab, feeling that she could not experience privacy inside her home.

Israeli soldiers took pictures of Palestinians, including children, for cataloguing, and the process was gamified, giving “a weekly score based on the most amount [sic] of pictures taken. Military units that captured the most faces of Palestinians on a weekly basis would be provided rewards such as paid time away.” This tool was playfully referred to as a “Facebook for Palestinians” by Israeli soldiers.

Red Wolf is part of the CCTV facial recognition infrastructure to identify Palestinians as they pass through checkpoints and move through cities. Another app called White Wolf is available to Israelis illegally settling in the West Bank, which allows them to search the database of Palestinians. Somehow, the increased monitoring and surveillance have failed to capture the crimes committed by Israeli settlers against Palestinians. Since October 2023, Israel has rolled out a similar facial recognition system registry of Palestinians in Gaza.

A cluster of CCTV cameras on Via Dolorosa Street in Jerusalem’s Old City. Photo taken by the author, used with permission. 2024.

AI-supercharged weapons

In 2021, Google and Amazon jointly signed an exclusive billion-dollar contract with the Israeli government to develop ‘Project Nimbus’, which is meant to advance technologies in facial detection, automated image categorization, object tracking, and sentiment analysis for military use — a move that was condemned by hundreds of Google and Amazon employees in a coalition called No Tech for Apartheid.

While many of the Big Tech companies have contracts with Israeli military and intelligence agencies, Project Nimbus has faced especially harsh criticism because of the symphony of alarms raised about Israel’s human rights violations brought forth prior to October 2023 by the United Nations, Human Rights Watch, Save the Children and Amnesty International.

Israeli intelligence units have been relying ever more heavily on AI tools to “rank civilians and civilian infrastructure according to their likelihood of being affiliated with militant organizations” within Gaza, speeding up the ranking process from a full year when completed by a person, to half a day by an AI tool.

AI-powered systems, ‘Lavender’ and ‘The Gospel’ (‘Hasbora’), have been designated as a “mass assassination factory” in Gaza with minimal human oversight where “emphasis is on quantity and not on quality”. Another AI-powered tool called “Where’s Daddy” tracks selected Palestinians so that they would be bombed when they entered their home — also killing their families and neighbours; thousands of adults and children who were not involved in fighting have been murdered. The system identifies targets based on various criteria, one of which is whether the person is in a WhatsApp group with another suspected individual.

Social scoring technology, such as these, has been banned by the European Union.

Drone terror

Drones have been used by Israel against Palestinians for more than a decade, sometimes for surveillance and other times for strikes that have led to traumatic amputations — although drone use was considered a “well-known secret” in Israeli society for years. As early as 2009, Human Rights Watch reported on Israel’s use of armed drones in Gaza.

In 2021, Israel started deploying “drone swarms” in Gaza to locate and monitor targets. In 2022, Omri Dor, commander of Palmachim Airbase, said, “The whole of Gaza is ‘covered’ with UAVs that collect intelligence 24 hours a day.”

Since October 2023, Israel’s killing of Palestinians has increased dramatically, causing Gaza to be called a “graveyard for children” and “a living hell”. Technology has played a major role in increasing damage and targets, including drones. Hybrid drones such as “The Rooster” and “Robodogs” can fly, hover, roll, and climb uneven terrain. Machine gun rovers have been used to replace on-the-ground troops. There have been allegations that Israeli sniper drones have played recordings of crying infants to lure targets into the open in Gaza.

Drones have been connected to psychological distress for Palestinians because of the 24/7 buzzing sounds and fears of being targeted.

Israel intensifying AI-powered attacks

As early as October 13, 2023, experts were calling Israeli attacks on Gaza a “potential genocide” and a “textbook case of genocide”. Judges of the International Court of Justice said in January 2024 that “at least some of the acts and omissions alleged […] to have been committed by Israelis in Gaza appear to be capable of falling within the provisions of the (Genocide) Convention.”

In July 2024, the World Court found Israel responsible for apartheid. The United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs has reported over 41,000 Palestinians killed, over 96,000 Palestinians injured, and nearly half a million Palestinians facing catastrophic levels of food insecurity in Gaza.

In September 2024, Israel was suspected to be responsible for the exploding pagers attack in Lebanon, which killed at least 37 and injured approximately 3,000 people. In just three days, 90,000 Lebanese were displaced, fleeing Israeli attacks. Within one week, over 1,000 Lebanese were killed in the attacks. Israel continues to increase airstrikes on Lebanon, as well as Syria and Yemen.

This post is part of Advox, a Global Voices project dedicated to protecting freedom of expression online.

 

 

 

Written by Safa

Via Globalvoices.org

The fight against censorship on social media is a fight for the future of democratic debate itself.

Written byWalid El Houri

Read this post in Malagasy, українська, عربي, English, Ελληνικά

( Globalvoices.org ) – The ongoing suppression of Palestinian voices on social media platforms has sparked significant concerns about freedom of expression and the integrity of democratic debate. Organizations like SMEX and 7amleh have been at the forefront of documenting these digital rights violations, revealing the extent to which platforms like Meta (the owner of Facebook and Instagram) are complicit in silencing Palestinian content.

In October 2023, a collective of human rights and civil society organizations, including Oxfam, Access Now, and others, urged “tech companies to immediately take strict measures to protect their users from harm in light of the escalating events in the region.” The collective accused platforms like Meta of consistently over-moderating Arabic content, misinterpreting it as violent, even when it merely critiques Israeli policies. Meanwhile, Hebrew content that incites violence against Palestinians frequently escapes scrutiny, exposing a glaring double standard in content moderation practices.

In a July campaign, 7amleh stated, “Meta and Facebook have not adequately protected Palestinians from hate speech in the last decade, which has manifested in millions of conversations inciting violence and genocidal rhetoric during the last nine months of the Israeli war on Gaza.”

In 2021, Human Rights Watch accused Facebook of suppressing Palestinian voices calling for more transparency in how content is evaluated and deleted. In 2022, SMEX described how social media companies, under pressure from governments, disproportionately target Palestinian narratives and how Israeli authorities often request the removal of content they find unfavorable, and platforms tend to comply without transparency or due process.

“Censoring Palestine,” Digital, Dream / Dreamworld v3, 2024.

Broader implications

This issue extends beyond digital spaces, with real-world consequences. In February 2024, a coalition of human and digital rights organizations warned that Meta’s policies prevent Palestinians from sharing their experiences, and hinder efforts to combat real antisemitism. The petition titled “Meta: We Need to Talk about Genocide,” and signed by over 52,000 people reads:

The powerful voices of Palestinians and allies on social media have been a lifeline during the Israeli government’s genocidal war on Gaza — and often the only way for Palestinians to tell their stories, document human rights abuses, and seek international solidarity during this time of utter horror.

As Palestinians in Gaza face plausible genocide (according to the International Court of Justice) it is disturbing that Meta is choosing this moment to consider a policy that would further silence criticism of the Israeli military, Israeli government, and Zionism by shutting down conversations involving the term “Zionist.” Meta is proposing to treat “Zionist” as a proxy for “Jew” or “Jewish” — but this won’t make any of us safer. Instead, it will undermine efforts to dismantle real antisemitism and all forms of racism and bigotry.

Palestinians should be able to name the political ideology that impacts their survival without fearing reprisals. Anti-Zionist and non-Zionist Jews should be able to criticize the ideology that claims to represent them. And human rights defenders should be able to hold the Israeli military and government accountable — now, more than ever.

This censorship has broader implications for democratic debate. As social media platforms have become modern public squares, they are essential for the exchange of ideas and the shaping of public opinion. When these platforms selectively silence certain viewpoints, they distort the democratic process and hinder the free exchange of ideas. Critics argue that this censorship not only affects Palestinians but also has a chilling effect on discussions about human rights and social justice, as activists and journalists fear repercussions and begin self-censoring.

In the case of Palestine it is also part of a larger crackdown, especially in Europe and the US, on protest and Palestine solidarity, one that has been documented by human rights organizations.

The role of tech companies

The censorship of pro-Palestinian voices on social media is more than just a localized issue; it is part of a broader problem concerning the role of digital platforms in regulating speech and shaping public discourse. As these platforms continue to grow in influence, the need for transparency and accountability in their content moderation processes becomes increasingly urgent.

The tech sector, in general, has been complicit in discriminatory policies against Palestinians for years, a trend that has intensified since the onset of the war on Gaza. Microsoft, for example, has faced criticism for its decision to block Palestinian accounts, cutting them off from crucial online services. In July 2023, the BBC reported that “Palestinians living abroad have accused Microsoft of closing their email accounts without warning — cutting them off from crucial online services.”

In response, 7amleh’s campaign highlighted the impact of these actions: “By blocking its services, Microsoft is effectively cutting Palestinians off from social, professional, and financial opportunities during a time of immense suffering and devastation.” Microsoft’s decision to restrict its services has further compounded digital rights violations, especially in the context of telecommunications blackouts in Gaza, which are often imposed by Israeli authorities.

The broader trend of censorship extends to other platforms as well including X (formerly Twitter) which has recently faced criticism for platforming far-right accounts and LinkedIn, typically seen as a platform for professional networking, which has been accused of censoring pro-Palestinian content, and restricting or removing accounts that advocate for Palestinian rights.

Indeed, one of the most troubling aspects of this censorship is the inconsistency in how social media platforms handle content moderation. While pro-Palestinian accounts are frequently targeted, far-right and racist content often remains visible and thrives on the same platforms.

Organizations like Access Now, 7amleh, and SMEX are leading the call for change, urging social media companies to adopt fair and transparent policies that do not disproportionately target marginalized communities, ensuring that digital spaces remain open and accessible.

The fight against censorship on social media is a fight for the future of democratic debate itself. Without a commitment to protecting free expression, the very foundations of democracy are at risk.

This post is part of Advox, a Global Voices project dedicated to protecting freedom of expression online. All Posts

Written byWalid El Houri

Via Globalvoices.org

More than three quarters of the 99 journalists killed worldwide in 2023 were killed in Gaza

( Globalvoices.org ) – On July 31, Al Jazeera journalists Ismail al-Ghoul and Rami al-Rifi were killed by Israel in the Shati refugee camp in the north of Gaza while reporting on the assassination of Hamas political bureau chief Ismail Haniyya in Iran.

The Israeli army admitted to killing al-Ghoul and al-Rifi, accusing them of being members of Al Qassam, the military wing of Hamas, and of participating in the October 7 attack. This dangerous accusation — thoroughly refuted by the channel — has been used repeatedly by the Israeli side to justify killing journalists, which risks normalizing the targeting of journalists with unfounded accusations.

Al Jazeera said that Al Ghoul, who had previously reported on the Israeli raids of Al-Shifa Hospital in northern Gaza, was detained by Israeli forces in March and released 12 hours later, disproving the claims of his affiliation with Hamas or other organizations.

Nicola Perugini, associate professor of politics and international relations at the University of Edinburgh, warned on X about using such accusations against journalists:

A disturbing pattern

According to preliminary figures from the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ), at least 113 journalists and media workers have been killed since the war began on October 7, 2023, with three confirmed to have been targeted and 10 more under investigation. The Gaza government media office put the number at 165 Palestinian journalists and media workers killed. 

According to Reporters without Borders (RSF), “29 of [the 120 journalists reported killed by [RSF] have been killed in circumstances that point to intentional targeting, in violation of international law.” Three complaints have been filed with the International Criminal Court (ICC) by the press freedom organization urging independent investigations of these war crimes.

The Al Jazeera Network — banned by Israel since May 2023 — has been heavily targeted, with five of its journalists killed in Gaza since the war began. Hamza al-Dahdouh, son of Gaza bureau chief Wael al-Dahdouh, and Moustafa Thuraya were killed in a January airstrike. The Israeli army also alleged the two men were “members of Gaza-based terrorist organizations,” which was equally refuted by the channel and others.

In February, a drone strike injured Wael al-Dahdouh and killed cameraman Samer Abu Daqqa. Wael’s wife, seven-year-old daughter, and 15-year-old son were also killed in an Israeli airstrike on October 28, 2023.

“These deadly attacks on Al Jazeera personnel coincided with a defamation campaign by Israeli authorities,” according to RSF, warning that “conflating journalism with ‘terrorism’ endangers reporters and threatens the right to information.”

“The killing of al-Ghoul and al-Rifi is the latest example of the risks of documenting the war in Gaza, the deadliest conflict for journalists the organization has documented in 30 years,” Jodie Ginsberg, CPJ’s CEO told Al Jazeera, emphasizing that the killing of journalists by Israel has been a disturbing pattern over the past 20 years. “This appears to be part of a broader [Israeli] strategy to stifle the information coming out of Gaza,” she explained, adding that the ban on Al Jazeera from reporting in Israel is part of this trend.

Trauma and exhaustion

Since October 7, Israel has not allowed any foreign journalists to enter the Gaza strip to report on the ongoing war except if embedded with the Israeli army. This complete ban has meant that local journalists are the ones to bear the brunt of coverage at great personal risk.

The immense trauma and exhaustion experienced by these local journalists, who remain vulnerable despite taking all possible safety measures, was best expressed in a poignant quote from Al Jazeera English journalist Hind Khoudary that went viral after the killing of her colleagues.

Another colleague,  Al Jazeera’s correspondent in Jerusalem, Najwan Simri wrote in a tribute to her colleague Ismail:

It was enough to look into his eyes, and contemplate his features, to feel the depth of Gaza’s sadness and reproach towards us. I always felt that he reproached us with excessive politeness.. and great hope, as if he had not lost hope in us for a moment.

– Najwan Simri (@SimriNajwan) 31 July, 2024

Meanwhile, local journalists in Gaza protested and held a vigil in response to al-Ghoul’s killing expressing their outrage at the perilous conditions they navigate daily and the lack of accountability and protection. Al Jazeera Arabic staff held a silent protest live in their studio.

An emotional video of the moment Al Jazeera Arabic presenter received and shared the news of the killing of Ismail Al Ghoul and Rami Al Rifi, went viral.

Bayan Abusultan, a feminist Palestinian journalist in Gaza tweeted:

They want to silence us.
They threaten all journalists who are still in Gaza city, and the north.

Covering the news here = Being targeted by the israeli forces.

Remember to keep talking about #Gaza even if they got every last one of us.

A history of impunity

Israel has a history of targeting journalists with impunity, as evidenced by the case of Shireen Abu Akleh, killed by the Israeli army while reporting in Jennin in the West Bank on May 11, 2022. Abu Akleh’s killing highlights the dangers faced by Palestinian media professionals due to a lack of accountability.

Carlos Martínez de la Serna of thr CPJ criticized Israel for refusing to cooperate with the FBI and blocking potential ICC investigations into her killing, calling for an end to Israel’s impunity in journalist killings, which have only increased during the ongoing Gaza war.

In 2022, Abu Akleh’s family and Al Jazeera requested the ICC to investigate her killing, but Israel’s leaders, including former prime minister Yair Lapid, resisted any interrogation of IDF soldiers and declined to open a criminal investigation into the killing.

The scale of journalist killing by Israel during this war is best seen when comparing it to the global number. More than three quarters of the 99 journalists killed worldwide in 2023 were killed in the Gaza war according to the CPJ. This alarming number emphasizes the urgent need for accountability and the enhancement of protection measures for journalists everywhere, ensuring the safety and protection of all the journalists who courageously report from the front lines of conflicts.

This post is part of Advox, a Global Voices project dedicated to protecting freedom of expression online. All Posts

 

Written byWalid El Houri

Via Globalvoices.org

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Bonus Video added by Informed Comment:

AJ+ “Journalist Ismail Al-Ghoul wrote about bearing witness in #Gaza before his killing”

( Globalvoices.org ) – On Tuesday, April 23, protesters in Cairo were detained while participating in a peaceful demonstration in support of women in Sudan and Gaza. Ironically, this event coincided with Sinai Liberation Day, a public holiday celebrating the return of the Sinai Peninsula from Israel to Egypt.

The detentions were anticipated, given Egypt’s history of suppressing protests since 2013, under President Abdeh Fattah el-Sisi. This is not the first time that activists have been arrested for showing support for Palestine since the conflict began last October. In early April, demonstrators assembled outside the Journalists Syndicate in downtown Cairo to denounce the Zionist aggression towards Palestine. The government accused the protesters of spreading false information and of belonging to a terror group — accusations that are used in almost every instance of the government suppressing free speech.

In this most recent wave of arrests, the protestors were all women, protesting in solidarity with women in conflict zones. Among the protesters were well-known figures in Egyptian revolutionary society, such as Eman Ouf, Rasha Azab, Mahienour El-Masry, Ragia Omran‌ and Lobna Darwish. The feminist activists involved assembled outside the regional headquarters of UN Women in Cairo, which is responsible for promoting gender equality and empowering women as a United Nations entity.

The detainees were released the day after their arrest.

The human cost of Gaza’s blockade

Despite expressing disapproval of Israel’s repeated public statements about relocating displaced Gazans to Egypt, and requesting greater assistance from the US in securing the border, Cairo has not taken direct action against the Israeli aggression since it started, over six months ago. This has led to significant frustration and resentment among Egyptians.

Although it claims otherwise, Egypt has played a role in the blockade on Gazans. The majority of those who have been able to cross the borders hold dual citizenship in both Palestine and Egypt. Others have had to gather an exorbitant amount of money in order to leave, due to the actions of Ibrahim Al-Organi, a leader of a government-approved militia in the Sinai region. Since the start of the Gaza war, Al-Organi has had significant control over the movement of people and goods between Gaza and Egypt through his companies. One of these companies, Hala, charges Palestinians thousands of dollars to help them leave Gaza. It has strong ties to the Egyptian security forces.

Video: Students at American University in Cairo Protest for Gaza

A majority of Arabs generally regard Israel as a representation of tyranny. Egyptians have voiced their disapproval towards their government for granting Israel any control in the transportation of crucial aid into Gaza through an Egyptian border crossing. Sisi fears the boomerang effect, as speaking out about the Palestinian issue during protests might motivate the public to rally against him, which did in fact occur last October.

State-controlled protests?

In October, Sisi’s authoritarian regime allowed the public to express their frustrations, by calling on people to gather in the streets. However, demonstrators soon moved to Tahrir Square, the iconic site of the 2011 Egyptian revolution and the resignation of President Hosni Mubarak.

According to an article by The Tahrir Institute For Middle East Policy on December 12, 2023:

State-controlled media called on people to congregate in certain locations on October 20, to show support both for Gaza and the president. However, at least one of the demonstrations strayed from this state-approved scenario, as it made its way to the iconic Tahrir Square, after starting at Al Azhar Mosque. Videos of the demonstrations showed police trying, to no avail, to prevent people from reaching Tahrir Square. It was the first time demonstrations had reached the iconic square in 10 years.

Following the demonstrations, the Egyptian authorities unlawfully arrested and charged numerous peaceful protesters.

The people of Egypt stand firmly behind Palestine and the movement for Palestinian liberation. As an 89-year-old grandmother from Alexandria told Raseef 22:

The Palestinian cause runs in our blood. I watched The Nakba unfold in my youth, and I was left confused about why there were masses of people crying on our streets. It wasn’t until I grew up that I truly understood the ugliness of it all. I saw what the occupation was capable of after I saw my brother-in-law return from war in 1967, bloodied and in ripped clothes, only to enter his room and start hysterically crying.

The erosion of artistic freedoms

As Cairo tightens its grip on pro-Palestine protests, the influence of state control extends beyond the streets and into the very heart of Egyptian cultural life, notably impacting the once vibrant landscape of cinema.

Once a cinematic powerhouse in the Middle East and North Africa, in ‌recent years, Egyptian cinema has died. El-Sisi founded the United Media Services Company, which oversees all creative, TV, and news production in the country. It is under the control of the General Intelligence Agency, giving the military a significant impact on artistic creation.

Before this, many iconic examples of Egyptian film and television touched on the Palestinian issue.

One of the most well-known films in contemporary Egyptian cinema that addresses the Palestinian conflict is “El Sefara Fel Omara.” This film follows the journey of Sharif Khairi, who is compelled to come back to Egypt after two decades of working for an oil company in Dubai. To his surprise, he finds out that the Israeli embassy is situated right next to his apartment. Initially, he attempts to sell the property, but his unsuccessful attempts lead him to handle the situation in a different manner.

Through the lens of Egyptian cinema, the Palestinian cause has been a recurrent theme, resonating deeply within the cultural fabric of the nation. Films like “El Sefara Fel Omara” have not only depicted the struggles of Palestinians but have also served as a platform for exploring themes of justice, resistance, and solidarity. As Hossam El-Hamalawy articulates in an article for Spectre Journal, the cause is deeply ingrained in the cultural identity of many Egyptians:

The Egyptian regime’s position is understandable if one takes into consideration how the powers in Cairo perceive the Palestinians: as a source of threat, instability, and inspiration for Egyptians to revolt. The Palestinian cause has always been a radicalizing factor for the Egyptian public. Most, if not all, turning points in the history of dissent of the most populous Arab nation were, either directly or indirectly, the product of a chain reaction triggered by Palestinian resistance and popular mobilization.

The recent crackdown on pro-Palestine demonstrations underscores not only the government’s determination to quell any opposition but also its reluctance to openly challenge Israeli aggression. This suppression of free expression reverberates throughout Egyptian society, touching even the cultural sphere, where historic solidarity with Palestine in films has also declined under el-Sisi’s regime.

Written byRaseef22

This post by Haneen Shoukry was first published by Raseef 22 on May 8, 2024. An edited version is republished on Global Voices as part of a content-sharing agreement. Our MENA team added the links to provide further clarification.

Via Globalvoices.org

The perilous reality for West Bank journalists under Israeli occupation

More than 100 journalists in Gaza have been killed by Israel since it launched its deadly war on the strip, following Hamas’s incursion into Israeli soil on October 7, 2023. Reporters Without Borders has filed multiple complaints with the International Criminal Court to investigate “intentional homicides” of several Gazan journalists.

But with all eyes on Gaza, violations against journalists in the West Bank have multiplied. Israel now ranks sixth among the top countries for jailed journalists, tied with Iran. Over the past seven months, 52 journalists have been detained, all but two in the West Bank, the Palestinian Center for Development and Media Freedoms (MADA) told Global Voices. Nearly all are being held without trial or charge under Israeli military law.

Women journalists are among those detained. “Israeli forces don’t differentiate between women and men as journalists in the field,” Aziza Nofal, a Palestinian journalist based in Ramallah, told Global Voices. A freelance journalist with Al Jazeera English, she also works with Reporters Without Borders to document violations against Palestinian journalists. Women journalists in detention are routinely threatened with rape by the Israeli security forces, she said. 

One journalist who spoke to Global Voices, Sojoud Aasi, was detained in October. Two months pregnant at the time, she was manhandled and strip searched multiple times “in a very humiliating manner,” she said. “I was denied the right to change my clothes, get my medications, or even go to the bathroom.”

Israeli forces also threatened to hurt her seven-year old daughter and kill her husband. Her husband, also a journalist, is currently in detention. “He is subjected to severe torture, while being deprived of his most basic rights, like other detainees in Israeli prisons,” she said.

Rights organizations have decried the use of torture and other forms of inhuman treatment in Israeli prisons, while UN experts have “expressed alarm over credible allegations of egregious human rights violations” against Palestinian women and girls, including sexual assault.

Another journalist, Bushra al-Tawil, has been arrested five times for her work, which is focused on Palestinian prisoners in Israeli jails, Nofal said. Most recently, al-Tawil was arrested in March, and remains under administrative detention to date. According to eyewitnesses, she was beaten by the Israeli intelligence forces in her home as she was being detained. 

A third journalist, Asmaa Harish, has been under house arrest for the last six months. “The Israeli forces have banned her from using social media or even making calls,” Nofal added.   

A mural on the separation wall in Bethlehem in tribute to Al Jazeera journalist Shireen Abu Akleh, who was shot dead by the Israeli army in the West Bank city of Jenin. Photo by Dan Palraz via Wikimedia Commons. CC BY-SA 4.0.

In addition to detentions, West Bank journalists also face restrictions on freedom of movement and outright violence by the Israeli army and armed settlers. 

Mohammed Samir Abed, a correspondent for Al Quds News Network, and his six colleagues experienced this violence first hand when they came under direct fire from the Israeli army on January 4. They had been documenting clashes between the Israeli army and Palestinian factions in Sir, a town south of Jenin. 

After the clashes concluded, “we wanted to leave and all of a sudden there were gunshots…we were shot at directly,” despite wearing their press jackets, Abed told Global Voices. Footage he captured during the incident shows him and his colleagues sheltering from gunfire fired from Israeli military vehicles nearby. 

Jihad Barakat, a Ramallah-based reporter for Al-Araby Al-Jadeed, has also been shot at multiple times while reporting. “At any moment a soldier might forbid you from photographing…or fire tear gas or rubber bullets,” he told Global Voices. At other times they are live bullets, as in the case of the 2022 killing of Al Jazeera correspondent Shireen Abu Aqleh by the Israeli army in Jenin.

Every day, journalists in the West Bank risk their lives and experience a myriad of violations to document and expose the Israeli occupation — with a significant psychological toll. 

Restrictions on freedom of movement

In addition to violence at the hands of the Israeli army, West Bank journalists are confronted with settler violence. “There are a lot of settler attacks all across the West Bank. We have difficulties moving from one place to another, it’s very dangerous,” Nofal said.

Since the war started, there have been over 600 settler attacks against Palestinians in the West Bank, according to the UN. Nine people have been killed during these attacks, in addition to the nearly 400 people killed by the Israeli army as of early March.

Since October, the Israeli government has issued over 100,000 gun licenses — with the highest rates of arms among illegal Israeli settlements in the West Bank. The government has weighed arming certain West Bank settlements with anti-tank missiles. 

Journalists’ freedom of movement has also been heavily restricted by the establishment of dozens of new checkpoints and confinement of entire villages since the war broke out. “Now I can’t move from Jenin to Nablus because of the presence of checkpoints,” Abed said. The two West Bank cities are 40 kilometers away from each other.

When passing through checkpoints, Abed uses his personal ID rather than his journalist ID, which is issued by the Palestinian Authority — the nominal governing body in the West Bank. He does so “out of fear of being delayed, or detained at any moment for covering the crimes of the occupation.” 

In 2000, Israeli press cards were definitively denied for West Bank journalists. Without them, it takes them significantly longer to pass through Israeli checkpoints. Checkpoints can take hours to pass through to travel small distances.

Once on site, journalists’ movement is heavily restricted by the Israeli army. “Army vehicles come in close proximity to obstruct us,” Abed said, showing a video of an armored vehicle honking and rolling towards him and his colleagues in Jenin last December. 

Israel has also sent a clear deterrent message to journalists through past and recent killings of Palestinian journalists, both in the West Bank and in Gaza.

Psychological toll

While there has been a sharp uptick in attacks on journalists during the war, “violations against Palestinian journalists are a continuation, not a result of October 7,” Walid Batrawi, a journalist from Ramallah who now serves on the board of the International Press Institute, told Global Voices. 

In 2022, the Israeli army and security forces committed at least 479 violations against journalists.

Although these crimes are well documented by local and international bodies, impunity prevails. “When the soldier who shot Shireen Abu Aqleh was identified, he evaded punishment, which means everything will repeat itself,” Batrawi explained.

In the absence of the rule of law, fear is rampant. “There is perpetual fear and uncertainty as to if he puts ‘press’ on his car, is he protected or a target?,” he added. The International Committee to Protect Journalists is investigating the intentional targeting and murder of a dozen journalists by the Israeli army. 

Israeli forces use fear and intimidation to “silence every free voice in the West Bank,” Aasi said. “It’s part of an attempt to impose self-censorship.”

“You might be the target of the next bullet, this is something that stays with Palestinian journalists. When I leave the house, I’m counting on the fact I may not return,” Abed said.

Collective punishment is also a source of widespread fear. “Not only journalists have become targets, their families have become targets. This impacts every Palestinian journalist,” Barakat said. 

The psychological costs are high. “I’m afraid I won’t get home to my three children. I’m afraid something will happen, I feel I can’t control my life,” said Nofal. “Our trauma affects our social lives, our relationships with the people around us.” 

But with time, death becomes normalized. “Every day I photograph funerals. I’ve started to fear that if I lose someone I love I won’t feel the loss, it has become something normal for me,” Abed said. 

Written byNatacha Danon

A Palestinian family’s journey from the 1948 Beit Tima massacres to Gaza

By Haneen Abo Soad | –

The author’s four-generation land and home were destroyed by Israeli F16 rockets in January, reducing it to rubble. Photo provided by the author, used with permission. 

( Globalvoices.org ) – On January 12, a message arrived from my sister in Gaza, bearing the devastating news: our parents’ home, a sanctuary of memories, had been razed by Israeli F16 rockets, reducing our beloved home to rubble. 

This is no ordinary house. Within its walls, I took my first uncertain steps, and my laughter and tears echoed through its very foundations. It was sacred ground, where I grew up alongside my beloved siblings, cocooned in a world of love and safety. 

As the weight of this heartbreaking news settled upon me, a storm of rage and frustration brewed within, threatening to consume my very being. Later that day, as more details unfolded, the magnitude of the loss sank in even deeper.

Like most Palestinians, we lived in close proximity to our grandparents and uncles, tending to our land and cherishing our communal bonds. The bomb that shattered my parent’s home also reduced my grandparents’ humble abode to rubble, a dwelling fashioned from straw and clay over seven decades ago. They had built this sanctuary with their own hands, a symbol of resilience and hope forged in the aftermath of escaping the horrors of the massacres in their village, Bayt Tima. 

In October 1948, Bayt Tima fell victim to occupation during the brutal Operation Yoav by the Givati Brigade, a Zionist gang marching south and massacring villagers along its path. Bayt Tima, once a peaceful village, became the target of aerial and artillery bombardment, forcing a large exodus of refugees. 

Despite the falaheen’s (“villagers”) brave resistance against the Negev Brigade, another Zionist gang that attempted to occupy the village as early as February 1948, even before the Nakba, the Givati Brigade eventually prevailed. Their onslaught claimed the lives of 20 villagers, destroyed the main source of water, and demolished the central granary, striking at the heart of our community’s sustenance and spirit.

Devastated and heartbroken, the Indigenous people of Bayt Tima, who had learnt about other massacres across our beloved Palestine, including the Deir Yaseen Massacre, feared for their lives and those of their families. They were displaced to Gaza. 

The tragedy of loss

In their effort to survive and rebuild their lives amidst the trauma and upheaval of forced relocation, my family purchased the land in Gaza and built the house. My grandmother often recalled the fear, uncertainty, and profound sense of loss of that period, but above all, the grief that was most unbearable. 

During the cruel and harsh journey, the family lost many of their relatives from the village, including one of their children, my uncle, baby Mohammed, who died on the way, fleeing to Gaza. 

My grandmother often recounted the story of my uncle Mohammed, each retelling was a testament to the pain that refused to let go: 

“When we were fleeing for safety, I sometimes carried Mohammed on my back and sometimes his father did. He was just 8 months old. We walked for many hours, stopping occasionally under a tree to rest and breastfeed. One of these times, he did not respond to my voice when I tried to wake him up. 

I called his father over to check on our child. When he saw him, he said, “Allah Yirhamoh,” (“May God have mercy on him”). I screamed ‘No, no! Not Mohammed.’ My breasts were full of milk for the baby that will never drink it, and my heart was crying for a young man that will never be. 

I held him high and prayed to God with a burning heart, ‘Ya Allah, ya Allah.’ I clung tight to my beloved Mohammed for more than six hours, unable to let go or believe what had happened. But when I finally found the strength to let go, his father dug a grave for him, somewhere along the road, under a tree, and we returned him to our mother, the earth. 

I pleaded with the earth to treat him kindly. He was a sweet child. I asked her to be gentle with him, for she had taken the most precious thing I owned — the soul of my soul.

We barely had a few minutes to say goodbye, when the Israeli gangs started getting closer and shooting at us. They took away everything from us, even our final goodbye.”

Olive trees and ancestral bonds

My family made it to Gaza, where they remained on this land for over 70 years. 

They planted many olive trees, intertwining their roots with those of the trees, forming connection with their ancestors who lived and died on this land for thousands of years. They worked the land for most of their lives, growing their own vegetables and fruit, and raising goats and chickens to sell at the local market. 

Over the years, their connection to the land in Gaza deepened, all the while holding onto the dream of one day returning home. My grandmother kept the key to her home in Beit Tima hanging from a necklace close to her heart, until she passed away in 2016.

The home was alive with family gatherings and occasions. This photo was taken during one such gathering in the summer of 2021. Most of the photos of the house were destroyed in that airstrike, erasing the family’s memories. Photo provided by the author, used with permission.

Their home was a vessel that nurtured generations. It began with them raising their children, and as time passed, my uncles and father built their own houses around my grandparents’ home. Together, we formed three generations of a Palestinian refugee family.

Now the fourth generation, which includes my children and my sister’s children, has experienced life on that land. The home stood as a testament to our somoud (“resilience”) in the face of oppression and the enduring bond we share with our ancestral land. 

That house was the heart of our family, beating with every family gathering, birthday celebration, late-night laughter, and star-gazing session when there was no electricity.  It witnessed our weddings and funerals, holding the essence of our lives. 

When I reflect on all these moments, my heart shatters. The bombs not only destroyed our land and houses but also shattered our hopes and soulful memories. Our cherished moments captured in photographs, our books, our beds, our roof, and our beautiful olive tree field — all destroyed.  

Memories and trauma in Gaza

The deep-rooted trauma of war and displacement has been a constant in our lives in Gaza. I have experienced four major aggressions on Gaza, having lived there until I left five years ago. Many times, bombs fell near our home, and we lived through the horrors of explosions and the fear of losing our lives. 

I vividly remember the 2008 war on Gaza when Israeli airplanes bombed someone who was walking past our home. We were inside when the whole house shook, and smoke filled all the rooms, choking us. Terrified and unsure where to go, we decided to go outside, only to find the burned, lifeless body of the man who was targeted. It was my first time seeing a burned body. 

As we ran to my uncle’s house a few meters away, the bombing started again. One of my sisters was injured by a piece of burning debris, screaming in pain. How can we ever overcome such memories? 

What affects me most is the targeting of the olive trees. what have the olive trees done? My grandmother planted them over 70 years ago. Four generations of my family have endured the atrocities of occupation and lived under colonial rule.

This knowledge is carried in our bodies. The atrocities we endured are imprinted in our DNA and will be inherited by our children and grandchildren for generations to come.

The Bridge features personal essays, commentary, and creative non-fiction that illuminate differences in perception between local and international coverage of news events, from the unique perspective of members of the Global Voices community. Views expressed do not necessarily represent the opinion of the community as a whole. All Posts

 

 

Written byHaneen Abo Soad

Globalvoices.org

How linguistic warfare manipulates narratives in the ongoing Gaza conflict

Written byCivic Media Observatory

 

This story is part of Undertones, Global Voices’ Civic Media Observatory‘s newsletter. Subscribe to Undertones.

Welcome back to Undertones, where we study narratives from around the world. Since the end of 2023, the Civic Media Observatory has started a new project focusing on data governance. But we still have some important stories from our Community Observatory to share. One of them comes from our researcher from Gaza, who’s now living abroad but has helped us make sense of the conflict since it started. In December, we published an analysis of critical narratives coming from Israel.

This time, our researcher Haneen Abo Soad and Global Voices’ Middle East and North Africa Editor Mariam A., joined forces to write this piece about finding the right words to describe the conflict that started inside our process within the Observatory.

Decoding language in the ongoing Gaza genocide

( Globalvoices.org ) – In the intricate threads of history, we’ve seen how language has long played a strategic role, especially in the shadows of colonization. Those in power skillfully suppressed native languages to quell resistance. This tactic hasn’t lost its edge; it is alive and well today as contemporary powers manipulate language to “manufacture consent,” justifying oppressive actions and rallying public support.

In the ongoing struggle of our people in Palestine, the dance of words takes center stage. Israel and its supporters wield language, crafting a narrative that strips us Palestinians of our humanity, portraying our resistance as illegitimate, and branding it as either antisemitism or terrorism. Isabella Hammad and Sahar Huneidi, two Palestinian historians, cast light on Israel’s ploy, labeling all our resistance, even peaceful actions like economic boycotts, as terrorism. This characterization extends to the asymmetrical war between Palestinian civilians and the Israeli army, as outlined in a December 21, 2023, article in The Nation.

For us Palestinians, this manipulation of language is not a distant debate, but our daily reality intensified during the current war on Gaza. Israel and its allies wage a multi-layered war, distorting our native words, redefining them, and globally banning them, all to stifle our resistance.

In this tangled linguistic war, Israel and its allies deny the ongoing genocide in Gaza despite the graphic evidence circulating on social media for the whole world to witness. 

We selected a few calculated terms used by global media with the aim of shedding light on our perspective. With 75 years marked by ethnic cleansing, 56 years of military occupation, and 17 years of siege on Gaza, we find our people ensnared in an ongoing genocide. The toll is unbearable: more than 30,000 people killed, 70,000 injured, and many more trapped beneath the rubble. 

Yet, as we watch our children dying daily of bombs, starvation, and thirst, the global conversation fixates on semantic debates, diverting attention from the urgent realities unfolding on the ground.

Evacuation and Nakbah (‘نكبة’ Catastrophe’)

“Don’t take all the stuff, Um Ahmed. Just grab the essentials. Come on, my dear, walk ahead of me. It’s just two days, and we’ll be back.” — Palestinian author Waleed Saif from the series Palestinian Nakbah.

These words resonate with every Palestinian family in the diaspora and in the refugee camps. Echoed by grandparents and parents, they linger in the air, and yet, here we are, 76 years later, and those two days have not yet found their end. 

This is the very reason the term “evacuation” carries the weight of 75 years of displacement and the enduring struggle of millions of Palestinians worldwide. This weight became palpable and pushed itself into our global consciousness on October 13 when Israel ordered 1.1 million people in northern Gaza and 22 hospitals to leave before a ground offensive on besieged Gaza. This directive, condemned by the World Health Organization (WHO) as “a death sentence for the sick and injured” and labeled a potential “war crime” by Amnesty International, carried an immense weight of consequences.

The term “evacuation” typically means moving individuals from danger to safety. In Gaza, some were compelled to comply with the evacuation order, while others refused, recognizing the harsh reality that there is no safe place in Gaza, a truth underscored over the last 145+ days.

This picture was taken today in Khan Yunis.

One of the most cruel pictures ever, how can one picture be so loaded with all this misery!!!

 

For Palestinians, “evacuation” resurfaces haunting memories of the Nakbah (Arabic for “catastrophe”) in 1948 — a traumatic event that violently displaced 700,000 of our kin from their homes and native lands to pave the way for the creation of Israel. This involved the destruction of our society, culture, identity, political rights, and national aspirations. Since then, we have been denied the right to return home, and for more than seven decades, we have been tirelessly fighting for that right. The resonance of the term extends to the ongoing persecution of Palestinians in the West Bank. 

For Gazans, “evacuation” transforms into a chilling echo of history, thrusting them into forced displacement, this time to the Sinai Desert — with no prospects of returning home under the guise of evacuation.

Hostages and Prisoners (سجناء ‘sojanaa’) 

“If the prisoner is beaten, it is an arrogant expression of fear.” — Ghassan Kanafani

It’s noteworthy that the terms “hostages” and “prisoners” are used to describe both Palestinian and Israeli captives, carrying different connotations. The aftermath of Hamas’s attack on Israeli settlements, killing 1,139 and capturing 250 individuals, led to a focus on the Israeli “hostages.”

This unfolded as Israel declared war on 2.4 million Palestinians trapped in Gaza, using dehumanizing rhetoric by labeling them “human animals.” 

The hostage situation prompted a deal between Israel and Hamas, resulting in a temporary ceasefire and the release of 84 Israeli and 240 Palestinian captives. The ceasefire lasted a week.

Despite being labeled differently, the deal compelled the world to acknowledge the presence of 7,200 Palestinian individuals, including men, women, and children in Israeli prisons.

According to Israeli human rights organization B’Tselem, as of November 2023, 4,764 Palestinians were held on “security” grounds, with the majority never having been convicted of a crime. Human Rights Watch reported 2,000 in administrative detention, where the Israeli military detains a person without a trial, presuming they might commit an offense in the future. 

Associated Press notes that “over 750,000 Palestinians have passed through Israeli prisons since Israel captured the West Bank, Gaza, and east Jerusalem in 1967,” including children.  

Since the second Intifada in 2000, Israeli military authorities have detained, interrogated, prosecuted, and imprisoned around 13,000 Palestinian children, with 86 percent not being informed of the reason for their arrest, as reported by Defense for Children International – Palestine. It is estimated that around 460 children have been detained in the last five months alone.

Furthermore, the conditions within the prisons, the torture, and the degrading treatment of the detainees are highly dehumanizing, constituting a violation of international laws. 

On February 1, 2022, Amnesty International issued a report urging accountability for Israel’s crime of apartheid against Palestinians. In this system, the Israeli government has instituted a two-tiered legal and political structure that affords rights to Jewish Israeli settlers while subjecting Palestinians to military rule and control, stripping them of basic rights under international law. 

The 2.4 million people in Gaza and the 7,200 Palestinians held in Israeli prisons are, unequivocally, hostages just like the 250 Israelis, and they deserve the same attention.

Turning a blind eye to their plight reveals global double standards. Regardless of which term the world chooses to call them, it is crucial to recognize the fundamental truth that no civilian should be subjected to captivity or utilized as a bargaining chip, irrespective of which side they find themselves on.

Collateral damage and Palestinian shuhada (‘شهداء’)

“And if they ask you about Gaza, tell them that it has a shaheed, a shaheed helps him, a shaheed takes pictures of him, a shaheed bids him farewell, and a shaheed prays over him.” — Mahmoud Darwish, Palestinian poet and author 

In the poignant words of Mahmoud Darwish, Gaza is painted with the presence of the “shaheed” (plural, shuhada) — not just martyrs, but witnesses to the profound injustices endured. Often mistranslated, misunderstood, and misused by Western audiences, “shaheed” is commonly translated to mean “martyr,” despite its literal meaning in Qur’anic Arabic being “witness.” It appears 35 times in the Qur’an, primarily as “witness” and only once as “martyr.” The term holds a deeper significance as witnesses who stand before God to attest to the crimes committed against them. 

In the Palestinian context, the term encompasses individuals and communities killed by the violence imposed by Israel during the 75 years of occupation. It includes a diverse spectrum, such as resistance fighters, but also grandparents, parents, sons, daughters, siblings, cousins, family members, friends, civil society workers, doctors, teachers, journalists, children, and all innocent civilians impacted by the injustice, irrespective of their religion.

People who were loved, who had lives, dreams, and hopes.

These people are typically dismissed as “collateral damage” by Israel and its allies. This term is grounded in the principle that weighs whether the military advantage achieved from a particular target is “proportionate” or justifies the potential loss of civilian lives. 

A recent investigation by the Guardian and the Israeli publication 972+ Magazine has exposed the Israeli army’s use of artificial intelligence (AI) during the latest war on Gaza. Operating through a platform known as “the Gospel,” this AI technology identifies additional potential targets, resulting in expanded authorization for bombing non-military sites. The report reveals a relaxation of constraints regarding expected civilian casualties. According to +972 magazine, the Israeli army maintains files on potential Gazan targets, pre-determining the projected number of civilians likely to be killed in each attack. “This number is calculated and known in advance to the army’s intelligence units, who also know shortly before carrying out an attack roughly how many civilians are certain to be killed.”

The attack near the Jabalia refugee camp, however, has raised concerns about proportionality, with accusations of war crimes and calls for greater efforts to protect civilians.

This linguistic choice challenges terms like “collateral damage” and underscores the importance of each “shaheed,” portraying lives lost as witnesses rather than casualties, emphasizing the profound impact of every human being affected by the ongoing genocide.

In conclusion, the power of language in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict cannot be overstated. Understanding the impact of language is crucial for a nuanced perspective and to acknowledge the ongoing struggle for justice amid the complex realities on the ground. The battle extends beyond the physical realm to the words we choose, emphasizing the profound consequences of linguistic choices in the quest for a just and balanced narrative.

Global Voices special coverage: “Israel’s war on Gaza”

We encourage you to explore our coverage: “Israel’s war on Gaza.”

 

Global Voices’ statements about the war

• Global Voices joined 140+ civil society organizations and activists in calling for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza and Israel. Read the statement.
• Global Voices stood alongside 29 human rights organizations expressing deep concerns regarding the systematic targeting of Palestinian journalists by Israeli forces in Gaza. Read the statement. 

See the full dataset of the analysis

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The Bridge features personal essays, commentary, and creative non-fiction that illuminate differences in perception between local and international coverage of news events, from the unique perspective of members of the Global Voices community. Views expressed do not necessarily represent the opinion of the community as a whole. All Posts

 

 

Written byCivic Media Observatory

Globalvoices.org