If there’s another war with Gaza, God forbid, it will be largely due to the incitement of the leftist media. If war is avoided, it will be largely thanks to the restraint of that media’s bête noire, the rightist Benjamin Netanyahu. Left and right, baying for blood in near-unison, clamoring for action. This periodic psychosis, journalism that pushes for war while still being considered leftist, has become the norm. This is our warrior journalism, fighting for war.
It works like this: First, for years they systematically and deliberately ignore the motives and justifications for Palestinian violence. They conceal the oppression and the occupation. It’s all terror, they’re all terrorists. Then they inflate the scope of the damage. Finally, they demand unimaginable vengeance. A primitive rocket that destroys a home in a farm community takes on the dimensions of an apocalypse. A few people were injured: near-genocide.
The headline, “A miracle: Tony the dog took some shrapnel and saved Grandma Susan,” is a parody of journalism. There were a flood of stories about Grandpa, Grandma, the children and the shrapnel. It’s emotional and familiar and it incites, and to hell with proportionality and professionalism.
Tens of thousands of Gazans who never had a swing in their yard as in Mishmeret are still homeless from the last war, but no one hears about them. In Mishmeret they are promising that the house will be rebuilt by Independence Day, but in Gaza there’s no Independence Day and no one to rebuild. Not a word is written about life under siege, dying cancer patients, hunger, unemployment and the fear of airstrikes in a land without bomb shelters. The press conceals this, derelict in its duties. Soldiers hit a blind man in his bed and kill a man in his car, for nothing; there are almost daily killings in the West Bank, and not a word. Only the destruction of the home in Mishmeret. The inescapable conclusion is that Israel mustn’t hold back.
A diplomatic reporter, a former military reporter, coldly asks the prime minister next to his plane in Washington, “How is it that there are no reports yet of fatalities in Gaza?” Indeed, how come you haven’t killed anyone yet, Benjamin Netanyahu? We’re all waiting. Army Radio puts on a Gaza man who describes a little of the suffering there, together with a man from Sderot, and social media erupts in screams: How dare they compare a Gazan to a Sderot resident, an animal to a human being? Will Army Radio, lily-livered and easily cowed, no longer interview Gazans? Only in Sderot is there suffering, only one side of the fence are there human beings. Only in Mishmeret are there children. The headlines call out, “Enough,” “Exact a price.” Time is of the essence, there must be killing. It’s not enough to destroy a hundred homes. It should be a thousand, and with blood.
The experts in the broadcast studios: Hit them. Deterrence. The usual ridiculous clichés: “We can’t let this go.” Why not, in fact? “We can’t show restraint.” Why not? “We cannot remain silent.” Perhaps that’s preferable? And no one would even dream of lifting the blockade: That’s insane.
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Bombing a helpless land: That’s logical. Generals argue over who was the hero who assassinated Ahmed Jabari, and no one calls it what it was: murder. All this is in the leftist media, many of whose journalists will vote for Benny Gantz or for Meretz, but that’s a trivial detail. What’s important is that they’re responsible for Israelis receiving tendentious, brainwashed information, a dialogue between the right and the extreme right. This is journalism that betrays its mission, fully and voluntarily co-opted over the most important issue of all.
The picture that it paints is that Palestinians were born to kill. They are beasts, we are human beings. They impose war on the most peace-loving country, a war that it so does not want. But the war that is never enough is now our dream. If Netanyahu doesn’t get that, then we, the leftist journalists, will explain it to him. It could end in the Gazan city of Rafah and in blood. If not this time, then the next. Thank you, Yedioth Ahronoth; see you around, Israel Hayom; good-bye to the television channels and the radio stations, we’ll meet at six, after the next war.