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By ATIYYAH KHAN
One of the most revealing takeaways from the genocide in Gaza has been the profound threat posed to journalism. Even in this era of artificial intelligence and disinformation, truth remains a powerful force. And the most brutal way to silence the truth is to eliminate those who report it.
This has been the clear strategy adopted by Israel. A recent study found that more journalists have been killed since October 7, 2023 than in any other conflict in modern history — more than the total deaths in World War I, World War II, Vietnam, Yugoslavia, and Afghanistan combined.
A Lancet report estimated that Palestinian deaths are 40% higher than figures provided by the Palestinian Ministry of Health. At the time of writing, the official toll stood at 53,762, but the actual number may be closer to 100,000. Similarly, the number of journalists killed continues to climb, with estimates reaching around 250 by May 2025. In all likelihood, the actual figure is far higher.
On the ground in South Africa
In 2022, I was approached by the Salt River Heritage Society in Cape Town to speak about the murals they had commissioned in their neighbourhood. Central among them was one depicting Shireen Abu Akleh, the Al Jazeera journalist assassinated by an Israeli sniper on 11 May 2022. Initially, Israeli authorities falsely blamed Palestinian militants. By the time her murder was verified, the media cycle had moved on. A full year later, on 12 May 2023, the Israeli Defence Force issued a hollow apology. Shireen’s killing epitomised a strategy of ‘killing the truth’ — the deliberate targeting of journalists, a war crime under international humanitarian law.
Cape Town, more than any city in Southern Africa, has consistently demonstrated loud and visible support for Palestine. Since the genocide began, countless events — marches, murals, boycotts, motorcades, talks, exhibitions, concerts, interfaith gatherings, and vigils — have been held.
Just two weeks into the onslaught, on 22 October 2023, I was invited by the Palestinian Solidarity Committee (PSC) to speak at the first major protest for Gaza, again in Salt River, specifically to address the killing of journalists. At that point, 17 journalists had already been murdered. No one could have predicted the escalation that followed.
Since then, my commitment to this issue has only deepened. As an independent journalist and freelancer, I have had the privilege of speaking freely — at protests, on radio, television, and social media — during a time when many employed journalists feared for their jobs. I’ve used my voice with the hope that it might echo enough to spark accountability. So far, that hope remains unfulfilled.
Yet despite over 600 days of relentless bombardment and destruction, young journalists in Gaza persist. One of the most remarkable examples is nine-year-old Lama Jamous, who donned a press vest and began reporting from the ruins of her neighbourhood.
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Perhaps the most meaningful solidarity effort in South Africa was the organisation of national vigils on 28 January 2024. Held in Cape Town, Johannesburg, KwaZulu-Natal, and Makhanda, these gatherings condemned the systematic murder of Palestinian journalists. Journalists across the country united to honour their colleagues abroad. In Cape Town, award-winning journalist Zubeida Jaffer spoke movingly about her experiences reporting during apartheid and covering the Rwandan genocide — drawing clear parallels with Gaza. Many veteran journalists agreed: the conditions Palestinians face today are even more brutal than those under South African apartheid.
From these vigils emerged a WhatsApp group called Journalists Against Apartheid, a platform for solidarity, awareness, and resistance among South African media workers.
A divided media
The genocide in Gaza has unmasked the stark divide in global journalism. Palestinian journalists have redefined what it means to do this work. Their commitment isn’t driven by money or recognition — it is a moral imperative. Despite losing homes, loved ones, and access to basic needs, they continue reporting. They’ve carried injured children into hospitals, buried colleagues, and dug survivors from rubble — all while documenting the unfolding horror. They appear on our screens, exhausted yet unwavering, embodying what it means to serve truth.
In contrast, Western media has disgraced itself. It has become a factory of bias, Islamophobia, and propaganda. One of the most damaging cases emerged on October 14, 2023 — the viral lie that Hamas had beheaded 40 babies. First shared by Israeli soldiers, the claim was repeated by then-U.S. President Joe Biden without evidence. The result? A white supremacist in Chicago murdered six-year-old Palestinian-American Wadea Alfayoumi in a hate crime — stabbing him 26 times. Only in May 2025 was the perpetrator charged. To date, Israel has not retracted or apologised for the lie that sparked the killing.
This misinformation continues. False claims about ‘white genocide’ in South Africa have also gained traction in US right-wing media circles — echoing Trump-era tactics of distraction and demonisation.
Western journalists have become cheerleaders of empire. Major networks like BBC and MSNBC fired journalists for supporting Palestine. Outlets like CNN and The New York Times led with fake headlines and unverified stories — many of which were later retracted, but not before irreparable harm was done.
Palestinian writer Mohamed El Kurd described this propaganda machine best:
‘A claim is circulated without evidence; Western journalists spread it like wildfire; diplomats and politicians parrot it; a narrative is built; the general public believes it — and the damage is done.’
In response, citizen journalism has risen powerfully. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok have become vehicles for truth, elevating voices on the ground. Ordinary people, wearing “PRESS” vests, risk their lives to document reality. The use of mobile phones makes Israeli atrocities harder to conceal, though the regime has responded with censorship, shadowbanning, and algorithmic suppression.
A commitment to truth
In October 2024, Al Jazeera correspondent Youmna El Sayed visited South Africa. Hearing her firsthand account was life-changing. Younger than me, yet infinitely braver, she described war from the perspective of a mother and journalist. Speaking in Cape Town’s Bo-Kaap, she recounted being given five minutes by Israeli forces to evacuate her home with her husband and four children.
‘My 8-year-old daughter Sireen’s biggest fear was surviving alone,” she said.
‘Every night she asked us to sleep close together and said, ‘Mom, if a rocket hits, let it kill us all so no one is left behind.’
El Sayed spoke of displacement, the stench of decaying bodies, and the total dehumanisation they endured.
‘Journalists in Gaza were targeted everywhere: in our homes, in the field, in our cars — with no mercy and no regard for humanitarian laws.’
‘Israel barred international journalists from entering Gaza, hoping to hide its crimes. But it underestimated the resilience of Palestinian journalists — continuing to work with no food, no water, and bombed-out offices.’
We all remember the moment veteran journalist Wael Al-Dahdouh cradled the lifeless body of his son Hamza — also a journalist — killed while Wael was reporting. We remember 23-year-old Hossam Shabat, who wrote a letter before his death in April:
‘Now I ask you, don’t stop talking about Gaza. Don’t let the world turn its eyes away. Keep fighting, keep telling our stories — until Palestine is free.’
The death toll among journalists will rise, as the genocide continues. But rather than deterring us, these deaths strengthen our resolve. We remain committed to ethical journalism, to truth-telling, and to bearing witness to injustice.
We will not be silenced. We owe that to those who gave their lives so the world could see.
This article was first published by the Media Review Network, an advocacy organisation committed to dispelling myths and stereotypes about Islam and Muslims, and to fostering bridges of understanding among the diverse people of South Africa.
Atiyyah Khan is a journalist, activist, cultural worker and archivist, based in Cape Town. Her work focus on topics like spatial injustice, untold stories of apartheid, jazz history and underground art movements.
