The Media Reacts One Way to Israel and Another to Hamas
I posted a short Note on Substack: “How does Bibi expect to defeat Hamas if he is negotiating with Hamas?” As I was typing it, a missile alert sounded in southern Israel. Militants in Gaza had launched two rockets. I added that to the Note. I was frustrated.
Then came a comment from Mike:
“Israeli airstrikes killed at least 60 Palestinians, including 22 in a single attack on a crowded café.”
He ignored the topic of negotiations. Instead of discussing the rockets or the ceasefire talks, his focus pivoted to rubble in Gaza. But rather than arguing with him, I started asking myself questions about media reactions to the Hamas-Israel war.
He was referring to a beachfront café strike in Gaza, widely covered and accompanied by strong media framing of accusations against Israeli indiscriminate bombing. HonestReporting documented how headlines twisted the facts and accused Israel of deliberately targeting journalists, women, and children. Distorting the truth is not unusual, as I have documented here, for example.
I wanted to understand how reporting on this incident compared to that for other events, and compare these with situations in which Israel was the victim. Why does the world respond so differently to Israeli versus Palestinian suffering? Why are some victims humanized while others are erased?
Not content with general impressions, I turned to AI’s language analysis tools to compare the framing, tone, and terminology used across coverage to see if apparent trends hold up to scrutiny.
The Asymmetry Begins with Framing
When Hamas fires rockets at Israeli towns, headlines speak of “clashes,” “flare-ups,” and “escalations.” When Israel retaliates, in cases other than this particular one, after warnings to civilians to flee, those same outlets shift tone: “massacre,” “collective punishment,” “civilian bloodbath.”
International bodies behave the same way. Hamas rocket fire often earns vague calls for “both sides to de-escalate.” Israeli airstrikes, on the other hand, spark urgent condemnations, emergency UN sessions, and threats of legal action.
This is not a new pattern. But it became even more glaring after Iran’s massive ballistic missile attack on Israel in April 2025. Over 300 missiles were fired in a single night — many intercepted, but some killed civilians and demolished homes. Buildings collapsed. Hospitals were struck. Lives were lost.
Where was the global outrage?
One UN session was held and no resolution passed. Most media focused on Israel’s defense systems and “regional tensions.” The grief was buried under stats. Most victims were not even named.
Compare that to the coverage of any major Israeli strike on Gaza. When Gazans die, they are named, photographed, their loved ones and friends, teachers, doctors interviewed. The stories lead with quotes from grieving relatives, scenes of children’s toys in rubble, and vivid accounts of “blood-soaked floors.”
It is not just about what happened. It is about who the world chooses to see and with whom we are supposed to empathize.
When Israeli Victims Vanish
I turned to AI again, this time to search for human interest stories about the Israeli victims of the April missile barrage. It found almost nothing.
A Reuters article about an Arab family from Tamra. A two-minute AP video on the burial of a teenage girl. A short profile of a Ukrainian immigrant whose home in Bat Yam was destroyed. That was it.
No 800-word features. No interviews with grieving mothers. No narratives about who the victims were, what they loved to do, or how they died.
I asked AI to search again, this time for Israeli coverage. It found a Times of Israel article listing the 29 names, with photos and short bios. One small Hebrew outlet did the same. But these were compilations, not in-depth portraits.
Then I asked AI for the same regarding Gazan victims of Israeli strikes. The results were overwhelming. I found dozens of deeply personal stories: a boy with a brain injury, a teacher who died shielding students, a father searching for his daughter’s body. These were long, emotional pieces repeated across outlets.
Even the visual contrast is stunning. For Israelis: smoke trails in the sky and Iron Dome launches. For Gazans: bodies pulled from rubble, grieving families, bloodied clothes on the ground.
One side becomes a headline with a face. The other becomes a number.
Why This Matters
When Israeli victims are rendered faceless and Palestinian victims are personalized, the moral framing of the war becomes warped. It is not just biased journalism — it is selective empathy.
Several factors contribute to this asymmetry. First, Israel is a state and Hamas is a non-state actor. States are subject to legal norms that not only do not apply to terrorist groups but that no terrorist group would ever respect if it were demanded of them. This element is not taken into consideration by either international bodies or media when reporting on the war.
Secondly, the media and international bodies alike generally portray the Palestinian Arabs as eternal victims of Israeli ‘occupation,’ casting them as the ‘colonized’ party in a post-colonial morality play. This lends itself to biased reporting that excuses or even justifies the ‘underdog’s’ violence, denies them agency, and has low expectations of their ability to follow international law or uphold moral standards.
Finally, the images of urban devastation and mourning families makes for far more moving reporting than pictures of puffs of smoke in the air where a missile was intercepted before it could hit the ground.
The result is a world that sees one kind of blood and not the other. And that has consequences.
When Israel is held uniquely guilty, while Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran fire on civilians with near impunity, it emboldens terror. It rewards the use of human shields. It punishes deterrence.
Not Just a Media Problem — A Memory Problem
Names matter. Photos matter. When a victim is named and mourned publicly, their story enters the global moral vocabulary. When they are not, they vanish.
The Israeli dead from Iran’s missiles had names. Most of the world will never know them.
Gazan civilians deserve empathy. But empathy cannot be reserved for one side.
If justice depends on facts, and facts depend on coverage, then we must ask: why are some tragedies allowed to speak, and others silenced?
The answer does not lie in the facts of war. It lies in who the media and international bodies want you to remember.
👉 For those who want to view the full tables and data used to support this article, visit the original Substack versions here:
“Smoke trails in Israel’s sky, blood trails in Gaza’s dust” and “Invisible Wounds: Why Israelis rarely bleed on the front page”
This is an old, old problem. NPR, still the liberals’ indisputable Fountain of Truth, has been playing the game of nameless Israeli numbers vs sobbing Palestinian mothers since at least the Second Intifada
Where are all the english speaking websites startup israel should have running.The jewish twitters and facebook
Setup them up in hebrew and english and people will come running.Forgot about other peoples mediadont play on there field you will lose
I hear your frustration. I think you are right that we cannot rely on legacy media to tell our story. I have been trying to build that independent voice piece by piece, as have others. But I also believe it is not just about launching ‘Jewish Twitters;’ it is about earning trust, producing quality, and showing moral clarity. I’m not sure people will come running but they may come back to truth, slowly. In any case, I think your point deserves a new article. Thanks.