I Won a Defamation Lawsuit

I often write in first person but rarely about myself. This article is an exception of the rule. It is about a legal battle that pitted the sanctity of free speech against the emotional weight of Israeli bereavement. I was sued by by Lara Metodi, a bereaved mother (or Gold Star mother in American parlance), who also happens to be a local celebrity (Big Brother finalist) for sharing a video of her late son, Nitai Metodi. T

he video had been initially posted and disseminated across the internet by the son or his friends who filmed themselves dancing and celebrating (in Israeli slang “holding a ‘hafla’”) in a Palestinian house in Gaza whose residents were expelled or fled – who knows. For sure, the property looked looted. The walls were vandalized with graffiti such as “A good Arab is a dead Arab. The soldiers boasted about killing “twenty terrorists.” Were all of the twenty terrorists? I have chosen not to jump full head into the controversy and just shared the video with laconic description on my Twitter.

My critical opinion about the war in Gaza is not a secret, but I was thinking (and still think) that the footage is strong enough to speak for itself. My aim in sharing the video was to raise awareness to the occasionally (to say the least) problematic (again to say the least) behavior of Israeli soldiers in the battlefield. In contrast, Ms. Matodi claimed that by reposting the video, I defamed her son and jeopardized his memory. She demanded compensation for the “shame” caused to the family.

The case was ruled in small cases court, since the attorney general refused to interfere and turn the civil dispute into a criminal procedure. Nonetheless, before we reached the court we went through no less than fifty nine sub-procedures – way beyond the typical standards of small cases. Public interest was clearly noticed in the courtroom which was full mouth to mouth with journalists, fans of the plaintiff, and friends of her son. The judge ordered us to refrain from insults despite the overly charged emotions and the discussion started.

The bereaved mother claimed that my post killed her son emotionally for the second time. I answered that I only shared a video that her son or his friends had already posted. The judge suggested that I apologize and erase my post as a sign of good will. I refused since the law was on my side. To me, this was not a case about seemingly harmed emotions but a fundamental battle for freedom of speech which includes the freedom to criticize dead people, even when they are thought to be war heroes. Under Israeli law, the right to a good reputation is personal and expires upon death. Therefore, a mother—no matter how grieving—cannot sue for slander allegedly directed at her late son. This is not a technicality; it is a crucial safeguard. History and truth cannot be silenced by the threat of lawsuits from surviving relatives who feel “hurt’. If soldiers film themselves vandalizing property and boasting of killings, the public has a right to see it, regardless of the soldiers’ subsequent fate.

I won. The lawsuit was thrown out, but the court’s sentiment was palpable. After such an exhausting legal saga, the winner expects to get some expenses but I was not awarded a single shekel. The message was clear: I won because the court is forced to follow the law, but it would not “punish” a bereaved mother for dragging an innocent man to court.

I left the courthouse happy but not without reservations. The juridical system in Israel has proven itself as fair enough to dismiss a defamation lawsuit that has no basis but this system also allowed a mother to abuse the system without fear of financial repercussion only because her son died in a war. In the aftermath of the trial, the lawyer who consulted the plaintiff argued that I won legally but lost morally. Of course, he has the freedom of speech to say that, but I would not hire a barrister who loses in court but wins “morally”.