We Have the Proof. They Have the Algorithm.
Since October 7, I have had nothing but respect for the soldiers, the reservists, and every single person contributing to this war effort. What I write here is not an act of protest or disloyalty, I believe deeply in the democratic process, and our military even when I’m frustrated by those leading it. October 7 was a day I will never forget. But what I’ve seen since is a war that extends beyond the battlefield: a war of perception, of narrative, of words and images that now shape how the world sees us.
Israel doesn’t have a military problem, it has a storytelling problem.
Since October 7, 2023, Israel has been fighting two wars: one on the ground and another in global consciousness. While the military front has made undeniable progress against Hamas and its regional backers, the information front has been catastrophic. The weakest army we’ve faced turned out to have the strongest PR and they are the one enemy we can’t seem to defeat. And when the world turned against us, we lost more than headlines, we lost leverage in negotiations, legitimacy in international forums, and precious time while hostages remain captive.
The World We’re Fighting In:
We now live in an age where words have never been louder, yet never meant less. Once, truth was built through discourse, argument, evidence, persuasion. Today, that foundation has cracked. No matter how verified a claim, it’s believed only if it serves one’s side. Language no longer bridges differences, it defines tribes. “Truth” has become allegiance, not proof.
For Israel, a nation perpetually under scrutiny, this collapse of shared meaning has been devastating. This is unfortunate. But we cannot ignore the world we live in.
The Evidence No One Sees
Israel releases proof constantly. Videos of terrorists with RPGs inside schools. Thermal imaging of tunnel entrances beneath hospitals. Intercepted communications. Body camera footage from October 7.
The documentation is overwhelming. And it changes nothing.
Here’s the pattern: Hamas drops a 15-second clip of a destroyed building, no context, just raw devastation. Within hours, it’s viral. Two days later, the IDF releases a response: a precise video with arrows, timestamps, narration explaining the target, the warnings, the justification. It’s thorough. It’s true. Almost no one sees it. The algorithm moved on. The audience moved on. And the people who do see it already don’t believe us, because we’ve been framed as the aggressor before we could even speak.
This isn’t about the quality of our evidence. It’s about speed, format, and emotional resonance. They flood the zone with feeling. We respond with footnotes. They make people cry. We make people read.
Evidence matters. But if we deploy it slowly, defensively, in formats nobody watches, we might as well not have it.
What I’ve Seen (And Why It Breaks My Heart)
I’ve been in Gaza. I’ve seen Hamas shoot their own people. I’ve seen trucks going in every night with aid, soldiers handing out food and water, genuine compassion in impossible circumstances. Young reservists who left their jobs and families, handing bottles of water to civilians under threat, because that’s who we are.
I’ve also seen the footage we have. The proof. The moments that should tell our story. The reservist explaining through tears why he’s still there. The commander aborting a strike because of a single civilian. The medic treating a wounded Gazan child. The phone call warning a family to evacuate.
These moments exist. We film them. Then we bury them in statements, release them without context, wait too long, or present them like courtroom exhibits instead of human stories.
Meanwhile, the other side doesn’t wait. They don’t explain. They just show, and they show it in a way that makes you feel first and think later.
I say this because I love this country. If another October 7 happened, I’d drop everything to defend Israel. This place has given me opportunities I never imagined. That’s why I’m so angry.
Our communication failure is personal. I believe it’s part of why so many are still not home, not the cause, but the condition that let the world’s empathy drift elsewhere. Hamas and Iran bear full responsibility for the horror that started this war. But our inability to hold the world’s moral attention made winning it infinitely harder.
We have the truth. We’re losing because we don’t know how to make people feel it.
What Must Change
Here’s what’s ridiculous: everyday citizens, reservists filming themselves between shifts, teenagers editing TikToks in their bedrooms, private accounts translating military briefings into viral threads, have had to pick up the slack for an entire government’s communication failure. And they’re doing incredible work. The grassroots response has been inspiring, creative, and more effective than anything coming from official channels.
But it shouldn’t be their job alone. The irony is devastating: the state apparatus, with all its resources and credibility, is being outperformed by citizens with smartphones and passion. That gap represents both our failure and our opportunity.
Israel needs a complete reset, a storytelling ecosystem built for the world we actually live in:
Lead with emotion, anchor with evidence.
Move at the speed of virality. We have body camera footage of heroism, restraint, impossible moral choices. It should be online within hours, raw if necessary. Not two days later with a spokesperson at a podium. The truth has to move as fast as the lie, or it’s already lost.
Show humanity in real time, not in hindsight. Don’t tell the world we warned civilians, show the phone call happening. Show the leaflets dropping. Show the commander deciding to abort a strike because of civilians nearby. Let people see the weight of these decisions as they unfold, not as defenses after the fact.
It can’t just be on the shoulders of private citizens doing this in their free time, it has to come from the top, with the weight and resources that only a government can provide.
Better PR won’t solve everything. Hamas designed this conflict to maximize casualties and content. Iran wants Israel to look like the aggressor. Perfect storytelling will not overcome those asymmetries.
But losing the narrative, which we are, guarantees we lose leverage, allies, and time. We’re losing because we pretend facts speak for themselves to this generation.
They don’t. And that’s unfortunate. But we cannot ignore the world we live in.
The soldiers are doing their part. Now it’s time for the government to do theirs. It does not take a ****** rocket scientist to see that the truth is worthless if no one feels it before they hear it.
As I said previously, when Israel calls me to defend her, I will be there. Bring them home already.
