The post-ceasefire reality for Gaza’s journalists reveals a challenging shift from documenting active daily bombardment to navigating an overwhelming landscape of community and structural ruin. The pressure on reporters appears set to escalate as they struggle to rebuild their own lives from absolute zero while fighting to ensure that ongoing human suffering, systemic displacement, and political marginalisation are accurately documented and held to account.
The Post-Ceasefire Dilemma and the Shift in Journalistic Responsibility
Day by day, it becomes clear to us that covering the war of genocide in its daily rhythm was easier, in terms of the journalist’s tasks and responsibilities, than organising our work in the days after the ceasefire. For 471 days, our focus was on covering the crimes of the occupation and the horrific consequences they left behind: counting the martyrs and the wounded, documenting destruction and devastation, telling stories of loss and orphanhood, and conveying the hope people carried within them that the war would stop. We were working within a closed circle of tasks, fenced in by death, the annihilation of human beings and places, and the struggle to survive it.
Today, however, Gaza’s journalists have entered a state closer to bewilderment over priorities after the ceasefire. This is not only because we have returned to a situation in which we are required to face our personal responsibilities toward our children and families, and are now obliged to secure housing and all the necessities of life for them from below zero after having pushed these concerns to the second tier of our priorities during the war, but also because the duties and responsibilities imposed on us by the profession of journalism have become broader, more intertwined, and more complex. They require us to pause and think carefully.
On the one hand, we are facing an enormous scale of destruction and ruin revealed by the Israeli withdrawal, as well as the daily unfolding of the harsh effects of the war of genocide. Genocide was not an empty word; it is a reality on the ground, whose severe consequences the people of Gaza are now living through every minute. We are witnessing a stage that can be described as a transition from death to the making of life out of nothing.
Added to this are central issues connected to the war of genocide, as well as major political developments regarding the Palestinian cause in general and the future of the Gaza Strip in particular. The task of keeping up with these transformations seems deeply complicated and far-reaching. It is difficult for a journalist, in the face of all this, to arrange work priorities, a matter that requires tremendous effort and reflection. To focus on one aspect while neglecting another means effectively consigning a vital part of the scene to erasure and marginalisation. Here, I recall how true the saying now common in Gaza has become: “One war has ended, and great wars have begun!”
After the ceasefire, Gaza’s journalists entered a state closer to bewilderment over priorities, not only because we had returned to a situation in which we were required to face our personal responsibilities toward our children and families and became obliged to secure housing and all the necessities of life for them from below zero, but also because the duties and responsibilities imposed on us by the profession of journalism have become broader, more intertwined, and more complex.
So we are now facing a shift in the tasks and responsibilities of journalism and journalists in Gaza. Let us try together to understand the role journalism must play before the different chapters of an event that is decisive in modern history and in the future of the Palestinians.
Navigating Overlapping Crises and the Debate Over Priorities
Let us begin with the debate that has been taking place since the first day of the ceasefire: whether coverage should focus, for example, on the street’s reaction to the ceasefire, or on attitudes toward the handover ceremonies of Israeli captives, or on the search for the place of Palestinians within the binaries of defeat and victory.
This debate comes at a time when we are witnessing the daily suffering of people after the comprehensive destruction of every aspect of life. People are struggling with complex issues, such as the existence of more than 10,000 missing and forcibly disappeared persons; thousands of martyrs whose families are searching for their bodies beneath the rubble; cemeteries that have been wiped off the face of the earth; and one million people living on the margins of devastation, without homes, without tents, without drinkable water, and without the most basic requirements of life.
There is also the release of Palestinian prisoners who had been sentenced, in effect, to die in their cells, and the announcement by resistance factions of the martyrdom of their leaders. Alongside all this, attention must be paid to American projects of conspiracy and liquidation, represented by schemes of uprooting and forced displacement, as well as the popular reaction to them; the major fears Gazans live with regarding the return of the war, the obstruction of reconstruction, the paralysis of civilian life in education, health, and the economy, and the shape of the expected future.
Here, it is enough to review the coverage to understand how focusing on one specific aspect causes many other central aspects to disappear. So how is the journalist to deal with all these complex files?
Core Guidelines for Post-War Reporting and Preserving the Narrative
Based on personal field experience, I believe the most important guidelines for determining journalists’ priorities are the following:
First, focus on the effects of the war of genocide and on the continued resistance of Palestinians in Gaza to its consequences, as well as their insistence on remaining on their land in light of the Israeli-American proposal that has shifted the Palestinian question from settlement to liquidation. Here, the value lies in showing the destroyed neighbourhoods that residents are repopulating or trying to repair, with all the messages this carries about clinging to the land and the homeland, whatever the circumstances.
This should be done without overlooking the meaning of the crime committed against them, and without ignoring the necessity of demanding urgent relief and the basic requirements of dignified human life. At the same time, the living and humanitarian scene must not be stripped of its political and legal dimensions, as though the devastation left behind by the war of genocide were the result of a natural disaster, rather than the result of a criminal act carried out by the army of a bloody occupation, with near-total support from Western states, foremost among them the American administration. Perhaps the human-interest story is the most suitable framework for approaching people’s suffering and following the victims in their daily lives.
The value lies in showing the destroyed neighborhoods that residents are repopulating or trying to repair, with all the messages this carries about clinging to the land, without overlooking the meaning of the crime committed against them, and without stripping the living and humanitarian scene of its political and legal dimensions, as though the devastation left behind by the war of genocide were the result of a natural disaster rather than the result of a criminal act carried out by the army of a bloody occupation, with support from Western powers.
Second, intensify work on creating and immortalising icons that engrave themselves into the mind, conscience, and human feeling. Peoples and civilisations come to an end when they become unable to immortalise their sacrifices and their honourable human examples. In the Gazan case, every story of the victims can be preserved in iconic spaces and circulated internationally through extensive writing and visual documentation.
In the alleyways and in the shelter centres, there are hundreds of thousands of stories that have not yet been told. The world has remembered names such as Hind Rajab, Hamza Abu Halima, the child with Down syndrome Muhammad Bahar, Dr. Refaat Alareer, journalist Wael Al-Dahdouh, Dr. Muhammad Abu Salmiya, and Dr. Hussam Abu Safiya. Some of their names have become titles for institutions and human rights bodies that pursue criminals and demand that they be brought to justice. This would not have happened without the role and efforts of journalism.
Third, continue to summon the bright civilisational image of Gaza before the genocide: its universities, cultural centres, public libraries, restaurants, hotels, and success stories, despite the long blockade and the policy of isolation imposed by the occupation on the Strip throughout the years that preceded the war of genocide.
This image should be compared not only with scenes of destruction, but also with attempts to restore life and rebel against ruin: restaurants and cafés that have resumed activity and private schools and companies that have begun repairing themselves. These scenes refute the idea being promoted that Gaza is nothing more than a site for demolition and real estate investment. They strengthen the connection, interaction, belonging, and attachment to the land and to the city’s civilisational journey, a journey that preceded the genocide and will follow it.
It is essential to intensify work on creating and immortalizing icons that engrave themselves into the mind, conscience, and human feeling. Peoples and civilizations come to an end when they become unable to immortalize their sacrifices and their honorable human examples. In the Gazan case, every story of the victims can be preserved in iconic spaces and circulated internationally through extensive writing and visual documentation.
Fourth, present people’s daily-life demands, such as demands for education, food, housing, urgent relief, treatment for the wounded and sick, and the rehabilitation of life, under a high political ceiling. As much as possible, journalists should be careful not to stop at small details, such as the entry of cooking gas for the first time, and treat them as achievements or favours from the occupation. The requirements of a dignified life are a basic human right. The occupation must be condemned and criminalised internationally for obstructing them. Self-determination and holding fast to national rights are a sustained popular framework that must not be traded for anything.
These are the large and complex issues that journalism and Gaza’s journalists must handle with a high sense of responsibility. Reality and experience show that journalism is the cornerstone of every beginning. We have seen how human rights institutions and international movements rely on the documents provided by the journalist stationed in the field, and how those documents have contributed to building movements, preserving Palestinian rights, and defending them. This reminds us of the centrality of journalism and the sensitivity of its role.