NAZA Cannot Be Allowed To Write the History of This War

There is something profoundly disturbing about watching an international audience stand for nearly twenty-five minutes and applaud a film accusing Israel not merely of military excesses, not merely of mistakes in war, but of operating what the film describes as a system of calculated mass killing of Palestinian civilians. That is what happened at the Venice Film Festival, where NAZA, directed by Israeli filmmakers Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor and produced by The Guardian and JW Films, received the Special Jury Prize at the 83rd Venice International Film Festival.

The significance of the moment goes far beyond cinema. The official synopsis published by the Venice Biennale does not cautiously frame the documentary as an investigation into disputed allegations. It describes the film as exposing the systems behind Israel’s calculated mass killing of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. That language matters, because it means the accusation has effectively been embedded into the presentation of the film before many viewers have even seen the evidence. Israel is not merely being investigated in that framing, it is being presented as already convicted.

That is precisely why MK Zvi Sukkot is right to demand an urgent Knesset discussion on the film and on Israel’s response to it. The question facing the opposition should not be whether it agrees with the coalition, with Netanyahu, or with military decisions made in Gaza. The question is whether Israeli political parties can agree that when accusations of systematic war crimes are being broadcast and legitimized around the world, the State of Israel has a responsibility to answer them seriously, factually and strategically.

NAZA is no longer merely a documentary. It has become part of the broader international information war surrounding Israel. The film reportedly relies on testimony from 24 Israeli military, intelligence and other insiders, many of them anonymous, and presents serious allegations about targeting procedures, artificial intelligence systems and military decision-making in Gaza. Those allegations deserve scrutiny. Any credible accusation against the IDF should be examined. Israel is a democratic state with military prosecutors, courts, journalists and oversight bodies. But there is an enormous difference between examining allegations and presenting them as settled fact.

Anonymous testimony is not automatically proof. A filmmaker’s interpretation of military conduct is not a judicial ruling. A standing ovation is not evidence. Yet once such allegations are attached to an internationally celebrated documentary, backed by a major newspaper, awarded by a prestigious film festival and praised by influential cultural figures, they begin to acquire the appearance of established truth.

This is how narratives harden into history. An allegation is reported. A documentary is made. A festival rewards it. Media outlets repeat the film’s conclusions. Activists cite the press coverage. Politicians cite the activists. International organizations cite the public debate. Eventually, the original accusation is no longer treated as an allegation at all. It becomes part of the accepted historical record and that should deeply concern Israel.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has described the film as shocking incitement, while IDF Chief of Staff Eyal Zamir reportedly rejected its depiction of the military as misleading and defamatory and requested examination of possible legal implications. The filmmakers, meanwhile, defend their work as an act of accountability. That disagreement itself is legitimate. What is not legitimate is for the Israeli government to respond to an international information campaign only after the damage has already been done.

For years, Israel has possessed one of the most sophisticated militaries in the world while maintaining a strategic communications apparatus that often seems incapable of operating at the same level. This is not a secondary issue. Modern wars are fought twice, once on the battlefield and once over the meaning of what happened on that battlefield. The first battle involves soldiers, weapons, intelligence and territory. The second involves photographs, casualty figures, journalists, social media, universities, international institutions, documentaries, celebrities and public memory. A country can win the first battle and lose the second. Israel has repeatedly allowed exactly that to happen.

The Gaza war did not begin in a vacuum. On October 7, Hamas-led terrorists crossed into Israel, murdered approximately 1,200 people and abducted roughly 250 hostages. Israeli communities were devastated. Families were murdered, homes were destroyed and civilians were hunted, kidnapped and raped. Israel did not launch the war because it suddenly developed an interest in conquering Gaza. It went to war after suffering the deadliest attack in its history since the holocaust.

Removing October 7 from the moral and strategic context of the war produces a fundamentally distorted picture. Too often, international narratives begin only after Israel responds. Hamas disappears into the background. Its tunnel infrastructure becomes secondary. Its hostages become an afterthought. Its military presence inside dense civilian areas receives less attention. The initiating massacre gradually fades, while the Israeli response becomes the central story.

That inversion has been one of Hamas’s greatest strategic successes, and now it is being reinforced through prestigious cultural institutions. There is another element that makes NAZA particularly powerful, its creators are Israeli. Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor are not foreign activists operating from Tehran, Beirut or Doha. They are Israelis who argue that their own citizenship creates a moral responsibility to expose what they believe their country has done. That gives the film extraordinary credibility abroad. An accusation from Hamas can be dismissed as enemy propaganda. An accusation from Iran can be understood as hostile information warfare. But when Israelis themselves make the accusation, international audiences immediately say, “Even the Israelis admit it.”

That does not mean Israeli journalists or filmmakers should become government spokespeople. A functioning democracy must tolerate severe criticism, even during war. But Israeli citizenship does not transform an accusation into truth. Nor should international audiences abandon skepticism simply because criticism comes from within Israel. The correct response is not censorship. The correct response is evidence.

This is why Sukkot’s proposed Knesset hearing matters. It should not become another meaningless coalition-versus-opposition shouting match. The Foreign Ministry should explain how Israel is responding internationally. The IDF should answer what it can within operational limitations. Government communications officials should explain what mechanisms exist to counter misinformation. Relevant legal authorities should clarify which allegations have been examined and what conclusions have been reached.

More importantly, the discussion should address not only NAZA, but the wider strategic problem. Israel needs a permanent mechanism capable of responding rapidly to international accusations before they become entrenched. This will not end with one documentary. There will be more films, more reports, more investigations, more tribunals and more international campaigns and a lot more lies. Israel must be prepared for all of them.

The international ecosystem surrounding Israel now functions through constant reinforcement. A newspaper investigation becomes the source for a documentary. The documentary receives a prestigious award. The award produces headlines. The headlines establish credibility. Activists repeat those conclusions. Politicians cite the activists. International organizations cite the public reaction. Eventually, everyone is citing everyone else, while the original allegations may never have undergone the evidentiary scrutiny expected in a courtroom.

That process does not require a coordinated conspiracy. It works through ideological alignment, institutional reinforcement and repetition. The reaction in Venice is therefore important in its own right. Nearly twenty-five minutes of applause is not an ordinary artistic response. Palestinian flags were raised during the ovation. The atmosphere was political as much as cinematic. It raises an uncomfortable question, would the same international cultural establishment respond with similar enthusiasm to a documentary examining Hamas’s indoctrination, tunnel networks, October 7 planning, hostage treatment, internal repression or the wider Iranian-backed military infrastructure surrounding Israel?

There are journalists and filmmakers who have investigated those subjects, but few believe such projects would receive the same emotional and ideological celebration. That is where the double standard becomes impossible to ignore.  Once that ideological framework is accepted, individual facts begin to matter less. Every Israeli action is interpreted as confirmation of the original conclusion. That is no longer neutral investigation. It becomes ideological doctrine. The opposition now faces a simple test. Sukkot has requested a special meeting of the Education, Culture and Sports Committee during the Knesset recess. Opposition parties can support the discussion or block it. They should support it.

One does not need to support Netanyahu to believe Israel should answer allegations against its soldiers. One does not need to support the current coalition to believe that international accusations deserve a factual response. One does not need to oppose artistic freedom to demand that a documentary accusing Israel of systematic mass killing be examined carefully. If opposition members believe the film is accurate, they should attend the hearing and defend its claims. If they believe it contains distortions, they should demand that those distortions be exposed. But preventing the discussion would represent a profound failure of national responsibility.

Israel cannot afford silence. For too long, its public diplomacy has been reactive. An accusation appears. International media amplify it. Social media spreads it. Politicians become furious. Eventually, an Israeli official issues a statement. By then, the damage is already embedded, that approach must end. The battle is not only over what happened yesterday. It is over how this war will be remembered decades from now. Will October 7 be remembered as the catalyst for a defensive war against a terrorist organization embedded inside one of the most complicated urban environments in modern warfare? Or will October 7 gradually disappear from public memory while Israel becomes remembered primarily through allegations of systematic killing?

History does not automatically reward truth. History is shaped by those who film, archive, document, publish, translate, repeat and institutionalize narratives. The applause in Venice should therefore not merely anger Jerusalem. It should alarm it. Israel’s enemies understand the strategic power of narrative. International activists understand it. Western media understand it. Filmmakers understand it. Cultural institutions understand it. The State of Israel must finally understand it as well.

Let the Knesset committee convene. Let the filmmakers’ allegations be examined. Let critics bring their evidence. Let the IDF present what can safely be presented. Let the government explain where the accusations are wrong, where they are misleading and where legitimate questions remain. Then let the facts speak. Israeli soldiers should not be declared guilty because an auditorium in Venice applauded for twenty-five minutes. A film award is not evidence. A standing ovation is not a legal judgment. A documentary is not a court of law. And Israel must stop allowing the loudest applause in Europe to become the final word on the truth.