AUGUST 20 — A press tent is not a battlefield. And yet, near the gates of Gaza City’s al-Shifa Hospital on the night of August 11, 2025, an Israeli strike ripped through a cluster of reporters’ tarps and cables. Four Al Jazeera staff were killed: Anas al-Sharif, Mohammed Qreiqeh, Ibrahim Zaher, and Mohammed Noufal. Hours later, the army publicly claimed responsibility and smeared al-Sharif as a “terrorist,” offering no verifiable evidence.

If this feels like a plot twist, it isn’t. It’s the next chapter in a documented pattern. The Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) counts about 190 journalists and media workers killed since the Israel–Gaza war erupted — the deadliest conflict for the press in CPJ’s history. CPJ’s running tally and analyses spell out a through-line: overwhelming Palestinian casualties; frequent family “wipeouts”; and near-zero accountability.

When journalists die with the word PRESS stamped across their chests, the “accident” defence collapses. Ask the family of Reuters videographer Issam Abdallah, killed on October 13, 2023 in south Lebanon when an Israeli tank fired two 120 mm rounds at a clearly identified press group. A Reuters forensic reconstruction, a UNIFIL report, Amnesty, HRW, and CPJ all converged: the shells came from Israel; the group was plainly marked; the attack likely violated international law. Still, no one has been held to account.

And before Gaza burned, a voice that taught a generation of Arabs what journalism sounds like — Shireen Abu Akleh — was shot dead in Jenin in May 2022. After months of evasions, Israel conceded a “high probability” an Israeli soldier killed her; the New York Times investigation had already said the same. No criminal case. No charges. The message is louder than any denial.

Legalise the blackout

On April 1, 2024, Israel’s parliament passed a law letting officials shutter foreign broadcasters deemed a “national security” risk. On May 5, 2024, the government raided Al Jazeera’s office, seized gear, and ordered Israeli providers to yank it off-air — steps extended again in June. This wasn’t content moderation. It was a switch flipped on a newsroom.

Blackouts don’t stop at borders. Israel destroyed Gaza’s al-Jalaa Tower — home to AP and Al Jazeera — during the May 2021 assault, erasing years of equipment and archives in one televised implosion. Through 2024–2025, Israel barred foreign media from independent entry to Gaza unless embedded or escorted, a chokehold on eyewitness reporting.

We’ve seen this movie before — in Sri Lanka

If Gaza is the present tense of media murder, Sri Lanka is the handbook. In January 2009, Lasantha Wickrematunge, editor of The Sunday Leader, was ambushed and shot on his way to work in Colombo. Days later, his posthumous editorial — “And Then They Came for Me” — ran exactly as he wrote it: “When finally I am killed, it will be the government that kills me.” Sixteen years on, impunity endures; rights groups have repeatedly urged credible prosecutions.

Disappearance as policy: Cartoonist Prageeth Eknaligoda vanished on 24 January 2010; his case remains a byword for enforced disappearance and stalled justice. J.S. Tissainayagam was convicted under the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA) in 2009 for journalism and later pardoned — a textbook misuse of a law activists still call draconian. The beatings of Poddala Jayantha (abducted and dumped by a “white van” squad, June 2009) and the near-fatal attack on editor Upali Tennakoon (January 2009) sealed that era’s signature: state-aligned terror against the press.

Burn the printing press: The Tamil-language daily Uthayan in Jaffna was shot up and torched — April 2013 was the fifth such attack since January that year alone. Uthayan has lost staff to gunmen, seen warehouses burned under curfew, and endured decades of threats blamed by observers on state forces and allied paramilitaries. Different island. Same playbook.

Sri Lanka still chills the messenger with new tools. RSF ranked Sri Lanka 150/180 in 2024, citing the Online Safety Act (January 2024) and ongoing misuse of the PTA; in 2025 it ticked up to 139, but RSF still classifies conditions as “very serious.” Translation: the path out of impunity is unfinished.

Same script, different uniforms

Step 1 — Smear the reporter as an enemy combatant or traitor. (Gaza: “Hamas operative”; Sri Lanka: “LTTE mouthpiece.”)

Step 2 — Criminalise journalism with “emergency” or “terrorism” laws.

Step 3 — Erase infrastructure: seize cameras, torch presses, bomb towers.

Step 4 — Stall investigations until the clock runs out. It’s not chaos. It’s design.

When the world blinks, the law sometimes doesn’t: On May 20, 2024, the International Criminal Court prosecutor sought arrest warrants for Israeli leaders (and Hamas commanders) over Gaza, including the alleged use of starvation as a method of warfare. On May 24, 2024, the International Court of Justice ordered Israel to “immediately halt” its offensive in Rafah under the Genocide Convention case brought by South Africa. These are facts, not slogans — the first legal bricks in what accountability could look like.

Roll-call of the fallen (a fragment)

Gaza/ Region: Anas al-Sharif, Mohammed Qreiqeh, Ibrahim Zaher, Mohammed Noufal (Al Jazeera, Aug 2025). Issam Abdallah (Reuters, Oct 2023). Shireen Abu Akleh (Al Jazeera, May 2022). CPJ’s Gaza ledger: ~192 journalists killed since Oct 2023.

Sri Lanka: Lasantha Wickrematunge (Jan 2009), Dharmeratnam “Taraki” Sivaram (Apr 2005), Mylvaganam Nimalarajan (Oct 2000), Subramaniyam Sugitharajah (Jan 2006), Uthayan staff and distributors (2006–2013). Each name opens a case file; almost none close with justice.

The point of killing a journalist

It’s not just to silence one witness. It’s to criminalise a narrative — to starve the world of proof, so atrocities can be denied as “unverified”. That’s why Israel banned Al Jazeera domestically and kept foreign media largely locked out of Gaza. That’s why Sinhala-Buddhist nationalist governments in Sri Lanka leaned on the PTA, armed the Press Council, waved through “white van” abductions, and green-lit raids on Tamil newsrooms. Different contexts, identical outcome: erase testimony.

What we owe the dead

We owe them precision — names, dates, places — and persistence. Use the tools that exist:

• Demand independent, international probes of the al-Shifa press-tent strike and all journalist killings in the war — with sanctions tied to non-cooperation.
• Back CPJ/RSF legal actions and push states to enforce the ICJ’s orders; press ICC judges to move swiftly on the warrant applications.
• In Sri Lanka, insist on reopening the Lasantha case, concluding Eknaligoda’s, and repealing the PTA/Online Safety Act provisions weaponized against journalists.

History did not begin in Gaza, and it did not end in Mullivaikkal. We have seen this before — the banning, the branding, the bullets. We either recognize the script and stop it, or we wait for the next press tent to go dark.

* This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.