The Israeli Media Are First and Foremost IDF Soldiers
Anyone who thought the Israeli media had already sunk to a new low during the current war only needs to see the latest practice: Every reporter who shows a fragment of a window shutter hit by a missile and every anchor who breaks from the broadcast to a report from a neighborhood grocery store that has been damaged immediately declares that everything has been approved by the military censor.
No one is asking journalists to say this, the law doesn't require it nor have military censors ever demanded they display such a seal of "good reporting." Nevertheless, the media has been voluntarily and loudly proclaiming: Look how good we are. We're the best-behaved students in the class, the ones who ask permission for everything, even when it's not necessary.
Embarrassing nerds that they are, whether it's Channel 12's Yonit Levi or the local reporting covering Petah Tikva, everyone's obeying the rules, and then some. Instead of fighting censorship (yes, even in wartime), they have become its most disciplined soldiers. The media is not only in the service of the Israel Defense Forces spokesperson but also in the service of the military censor.
With this kind of media, there's no point in fighting for a free press, because the media itself is not on the side of freedom. The fact is that no one ordered it to hide what was really happening in the Gaza Strip for 2 1/2 years, and no one ordered it to be proudly obedient.
"Do you like me, IDF?" asks almost every military correspondent. "Am I a good boy? A good soldier? Isn't it true that I didn't reveal anything? Didn't I chew with my mouth closed?" The media has an existential, personal need to be on good terms with the establishment, and even with those who are supposed to be the declared enemy of the press: the military censor.
The need to shelter in the shadow of the establishment, like in the shadow of mom and dad, the longing to be good in its eyes, stems from the longing for the censor to accept responsibility and absolve us of it.
In the eyes of the majority of Israeli journalists, the press must ensure national security because we are all soldiers, just like some journalists believe that the media's job is to preserve Israel's good name. "We are Israelis first and foremost, and journalists only second," says an ignorant journalist who doesn't even begin to understand what his role is in a democracy. The line between journalism and PR was crossed here a long time ago.
The flattery and the alliance with the state are not only aimed at the establishment but also at the general public: Don't worry, we won't tell you too much. We're patriotic and responsible, and won't tell you anything that might keep you awake at night (for example, that the IDF killed a thousand babies in Gaza), nor will we jeopardize "national security," whatever that means. Journalism is a facet of homeland security.
It wasn't always like that. In the past, censorship was more draconian, but journalists bravely fought it. When the magazine Haolam Hazeh opposed a censor's decision to block information – something hard to imagine occurring today – Editor-in-Chief Uri Avnery left blank spaces on the page in protest, a censorship offense in itself.
When Alex Levac photographed the Bus 300 terrorists before they were murdered by the Shin Bet security service, the Hadashot newspaper fought to publish the picture. That would never happen today. The image of the terrorists before they were executed would never be published today because Mother Censorship would never allow it, and because readers would react angrily to being exposed to such unpleasantries. Who would want to publish proof of the execution of Palestinians today? Who even wants to know?
This is a vicious circle that can't be broken because everyone is happy that it exists. The greatest danger lurking in the media is self-censorship, which is a thousand times more destructive than government censorship, because there is no one to resist it. Now the media has taken one more step down the slope by taking pride in its obedience. There is nothing to fear from Communications Minister Shlomo Karhi; we have Channel 12 to do his work.