Pat Taub
The story of women journalists in Gaza requires a new definition of courage.
Many of these women are under 30. Several are young mothers. Daily they risk their lives to document the horrors of the escalating genocide in Gaza. Last year, Israeli bombs killed five women journalists in 24 hours.
It’s difficult for most Westerners to understand why a young woman would put herself in harm’s way, knowing every time she moves into dangerous territory to cover the latest massacre, she could be killed.
Gazan photojournalist Samar Abu Elouf
Palestinian women, like their husbands, brothers and fathers, grew up with stories of the 1948 Nakba (“catastrophe” in Arabic) when Palestine, a thriving, modern society was invaded by Israel, forcing the mass displacement of its residents, killing 800,000 in the process. Those who survived were condemned to life in an open-air prison under the strict hand of Israel, who controls almost every aspect of their lives. Today’s descendants are committed to holding onto their ancestors’ land.
An image from the 1948 Nakba when Palestinians were forcibly removed from their homeland
Because Israel has blocked foreign journalists, Palestinian journalists are left alone to document their struggle. Every time they move into unsafe areas, reporting without any protections, they know they face death. Bisan Owda, the 28-year-old journalist who won a Peabody award for her fearless reporting, frequently begins her video reports transmitted through her cell phone, “I’m Bisan and I’m still alive.”
Bisan surrounded by children in Gaza
Not every female journalist in Gaza has been this fortunate. During the 18-month genocide, Israel has targeted and killed 24 female journalists.
The most recent casualty was Fatima Hassouna, 25, a brilliant photojournalist, who died last Wednesday along with nine members of her family when their home was hit. Speculation abounds that Fatima was targeted following the announcement just the day before that a documentary she was featured in was chosen for the Cannes film festival this May.
Fatima told her friends:
I believe that the image and the camera are weapons. . . . I’m going to put a memory card into the camera. This is the camera’s bullet, the memory card. It changes the world and defends me. It shows the world what is happening to me and what’s happening to others. . . . so, I can document people’s stories, so that my family’s stories too don’t just vanish into thin air.
Fatima Hassouna (The Guardian)
Hind Khoudary, 30, has reported for Al Jazeera English since October 2023. Her latest tweet captures the difficulty she and so many face living under a now 47-day blockade where Israel has denied, food, water, fuel and medical supplies from entering Gaza, while relentlessly bombing “safe areas.” Hind writes:
To report and live the same exact thing is very overwhelming.
Maha Hussaini’s stories of Palestine have been printed in several international publications. Last year she was awarded the International Women’s Media Foundation Courage in Journalism Award, which was rescinded days later following false accusations of Antisemitism by a Zionist organization. She only learned through social media that her award had been revoked.
Maha with Gazan children in an encampment
In an interview on Democracy Now, Maha recounted that Israeli intimidation campaigns represent another threat to Palestinian journalists, where they are frequently threatened with murder unless they stop reporting. Maha writes:
We, as journalists, have no protection whatsoever. To Israel, all of us in Gaza are just warm blood.
For journalists who are mothers, there is an added layer of stress: the fear of losing their children. Nour Al-Suwayrki describes one such harrowing experience:
There were times when I had to bring my children to the work site. On one such day, a bombing happened near my car, where they were taking shelter from the sun. I was frantic, immediately stopped filming, and rushed to check on them. Thankfully, they were unharmed.
Journalist Mothers in Gaza
Shorouk Aila exemplifies the courage and remarkable resilience of female journalists in Gaza, as she recalls the moment she lost her husband, who was also her colleague:
“It was the worst situation I’ve faced since the genocide began. I was with him when he was killed, holding his hand.” Reflecting on her dual role as a mother and journalist, she adds, “Being both under these circumstances isn’t just challenging—it feels almost impossible. Yet, somehow, we manage to turn this impossibility into something achievable.”
Shorouk with her husband and baby daughter in happier times
