Gaza’s documentary war: Who owns the truth?

A few days ago, I received a WhatsApp message warning me about an antisemitic propaganda film called NAZA. It urged me to watch a rival documentary, give it a like, leave a comment and share it with as many people as possible. The message warned that the original film would soon reach millions of people and that we needed to get ahead of its allegations against Israel and the IDF.

I understood the sentiment behind the message. I could see why it was being circulated, and I supported what it was trying to achieve. I’ve seen how quickly accusations against Israel can spread internationally, often without the same attention being given to evidence that challenges them. I want Israeli soldiers to have the opportunity to answer serious allegations against them, and I want those responses to be heard.

There was just one problem. I hadn’t watched either film. I didn’t know exactly what the original alleged or whether the documentary being promoted in its place actually answered those allegations. Yet I was being asked to help persuade other people what to believe.

I’ve reported from war zones for more than 20 years, and I’ve often found that people involved in the same military operation can give very different accounts of what happened. Both may genuinely believe they’re telling the truth. They may have witnessed different parts of an operation, been given different information or reached different conclusions about what they saw. But believing something to be true doesn’t necessarily make it so. That’s worth remembering when looking at the two documentaries now competing to tell the story of Israel’s war in Gaza.

The original NAZA, directed by Israeli filmmakers Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor and produced by The Guardian, won the Special Jury Prize at the Venice Film Festival in September. It is based on testimony from 24 anonymous Israeli military and intelligence personnel describing aspects of the IDF’s conduct during the Gaza war.

The film takes its name from the Hebrew military acronym for collateral damage. Its allegations concern how targets were selected, how anticipated civilian casualties were calculated and the role of artificial intelligence in military operations. One of the most disturbing allegations is that a strike against a single Hamas operative was approved despite an expectation that 500 civilians could be killed. That’s an extraordinary claim. If true, it demands serious investigation.

In a detailed examination published by The Times of Israel, military correspondent Emanuel Fabian and journalist Nurit Yohanan raised important questions about the film’s presentation of evidence. They questioned how viewers could assess the anonymous soldiers’ testimony when the film often did not explain their military roles or how directly they were involved in the operations they described. In many cases, viewers are not told whether the person speaking was involved in intelligence analysis, operational planning or the final approval of a strike.

The reporters also identified discrepancies between the Hebrew testimony and the English subtitles, including instances where the translation appeared to make a soldier’s account more definite than the words he actually used. In one example, a soldier’s reference to Ahmad and his family being inside a house was translated into English as a statement that they would die. In another, an interviewee’s less precise reference to an approval involving approximately 500 people was subtitled as a definite approval to kill 500 people for one target.

These distinctions matter, particularly when a documentary is making allegations about decisions that may have cost civilian lives. In the case of the alleged approval involving 500 civilian deaths, the documentary does not identify the target, the location or the date.

The IDF has categorically denied that it ever planned, approved or carried out a strike in Gaza in which 500 civilians, or anything close to that number, were expected to die. In its published response, the military argues that the film confuses intelligence assessments with final operational decisions. Intelligence personnel may identify potential targets, but operational commanders are responsible for deciding whether strikes go ahead, following further checks.

A soldier working on intelligence assessments may know what was proposed without knowing what was eventually authorised. Equally, an official description of military procedures doesn’t establish that those procedures were followed in every operation.

The filmmakers have challenged the criticism. The Guardian says the testimony was checked against classified documents, specific military strikes and additional confidential sources. It says the investigation involved interviews with more than 100 people familiar with the IDF’s systems, including senior officers involved in approving strikes. It also rejects the suggestion that the film relies only on junior intelligence personnel with limited knowledge of operational decisions.

So while viewers may not have enough information to independently examine every allegation, that doesn’t establish that the allegations are false or that no corroboration exists.

I understand why military sources sometimes need anonymity. People who speak about sensitive operations may face serious consequences if their identities become known. But protecting a source places a greater responsibility on the journalist to establish what that person actually knows and how their account has been checked.

The suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza has been horrific. Allegations of unlawful attacks deserve serious independent scrutiny. And the seriousness of those allegations is precisely why the evidence matters.

The second documentary, NAZA: The Real Story, was made by Israeli reservists and filmmakers who dispute the original film’s account of the IDF’s conduct. It presents testimony from soldiers and commanders, along with military footage, and seeks to explain the operational circumstances in which Israeli forces were fighting.

There is nothing wrong with producing a rebuttal. Soldiers have every right to describe their experiences, just as other soldiers have the right to speak critically about what they witnessed. But the way the counter-documentary was promoted has raised questions of its own.

On October 8, The Guardian reported that the website now promoting NAZA: The Real Story had initially appeared to be a website for the original film. It named Abraham and Szor as its directors and included information about their screenings before being changed to promote the rival production. The website also displayed a counter suggesting more than 42 million views, even though the publicly visible YouTube audience was far smaller. One of the counter-film’s creators, Ariel Averbuch, said he didn’t know how the website figure had been calculated and referred questions to his technical team.

The creators say they funded their documentary independently and without IDF or government production support. Israeli diplomatic accounts have nevertheless helped promote the finished film.

None of this tells us whether the counter-documentary’s account of military operations is accurate. Its arguments should be examined on their merits. But if you’re producing a documentary to challenge what you believe is misleading information, surely you have a responsibility to be transparent about how you’re promoting it. Why create confusion about which film your website represents? And why display an audience figure that cannot be independently explained?

I think this is particularly unfortunate because I understand the concern that motivated the counter-film. Israel has faced an enormous battle over how its military operations are portrayed internationally, and allegations against Israeli soldiers can have serious consequences. That’s why the response needs to be convincing. If we’re challenging a documentary for misleading its audience, we need to be careful that the campaign against it doesn’t do the same.

The WhatsApp message I received described NAZA as antisemitic propaganda. That is a serious accusation. A documentary criticising Israeli military conduct is not automatically antisemitic, even if its reporting contains errors or its conclusions are disputed. Those errors, if they exist, should be identified and challenged.

The filmmakers must be able to investigate their own country’s military without facing threats or demands that they be stripped of their citizenship. Equally, those defending the IDF should be able to question the film’s methods without automatically being accused of trying to conceal wrongdoing.

I haven’t watched both documentaries in full. What I’ve examined is the reporting about them, the competing explanations and the campaign now being organised around the rival film. And I think there’s enough in that reporting to warrant difficult questions of everyone involved.

The filmmakers behind NAZA need to answer questions about their sources and allegations. The IDF should provide evidence where it can to substantiate its denials. And those promoting the counter-documentary should be transparent about their methods.

The WhatsApp message asked me to help make sure the truth reached the world first. I understand why people want to defend Israel against accusations they believe are false. I want that too. But if we believe the original documentary has misled its audience, we should be able to demonstrate where and how. And if the counter-documentary has a stronger account, it should stand up to the same scrutiny.

I don’t think Israel is helped by asking people to choose sides before they’ve examined the evidence. Particularly when the allegations are this serious.