Deaths Amid Ceasefire: The War Logic and Media Dilemma Behind Attacks on Journalists and Children in Gaza

In the central Gaza Strip, a vehicle bearing the emblem of the Egyptian Rescue Committee was ablaze by the roadside, thick black smoke billowing, with debris scattered all around. The lives of three Palestinian journalists inside—Mohammed Salah Kashta, Abdul Raouf Sha'at, and Anas Ghannam—came to an abrupt end on the afternoon of Wednesday, January 21, 2026. They were on their way to the Netzarim area to film a newly established camp for displaced persons. Almost on the same day, in different corners of Gaza, the lives of two 13-year-old boys also ended in similar ways: one died alongside his father in an Israeli military drone strike east of the Bureij refugee camp, while the other was shot and killed by Israeli soldiers while gathering firewood east of the town of Bani Suheila.

On this day, the death toll reported by the Gaza health department reached at least 11. Since the fragile ceasefire took effect on October 10, 2025, more than 470 Palestinians have been killed by Israeli artillery fire. Behind these cold numbers lie specific and intimate individual tragedies, as well as a reality still profoundly shaped by violence during a period of nominal calm. Particularly striking is that the victims included three journalists, bringing the total number of journalists killed in Gaza since the war began in October 2023 to over 220. This besieged coastal enclave has become the deadliest conflict zone in the world for journalists, without exception.

Event Profile: A "Precision Strike" and Multiple Narratives

The statement from the Israel Defense Forces is concise and typical: Troops identified several suspects operating a drone affiliated with Hamas in central Gaza. As the drone posed a threat to the forces, the IDF precisely struck the suspects who activated the drone. The military added that details of the incident are under review. This set of discourse has become a standardized explanatory template for the Israeli military following operations in Gaza.

However, other narratives from the scene paint a completely different picture.

The spokesperson for the Egyptian Rescue Committee, Mohammed Mansour, clearly stated that the attacked vehicles belonged to the committee, all of which bore prominent markings, and the Israeli military was aware of this. The attack occurred approximately 5 kilometers from the Israeli-controlled area. Committee member Mahmoud Jamal provided a more detailed account: the area was a green zone (safe zone), with no bombing or any similar incidents. They were carrying out their work normally there, just like everyone else. An eyewitness at the scene described to AFP that the journalists were using drones to document the distribution of humanitarian aid managed by the Egyptian Rescue Committee.

The late journalist Abdul Rauf Sha'at was a long-term contributor to AFP. In its mourning statement, AFP emphasized that Sha'at was not on assignment for the agency at the time and described him as a beloved, kind-hearted, and deeply dedicated colleague, while calling for a comprehensive and transparent investigation into his death. The statement from the Palestinian Journalists Syndicate was more pointed, accusing Israel of deliberately targeting Palestinian journalists, suppressing Palestinian voices, obstructing the dissemination of facts, and concealing evidence of systematic policies targeting civilians, describing it as a war crime.

The analysis reveals a fundamental disconnect in the narratives presented by the conflicting parties. The Israeli military emphasizes threat perception and military necessity, defining the targeted individuals as suspects and linking them to Hamas. In contrast, humanitarian organizations, fellow media personnel, and local witnesses emphasize the civilian, humanitarian, and journalistic nature of the mission, highlighting the vehicle's clear markings and the non-combat attributes of the incident location. This narrative gap precisely constitutes the core battleground of the information war within the Gaza conflict.

Children's Death: Daily Risks on Both Sides of the Ceasefire Line

What is equally heart-wrenching as the attack on journalists is the death of two 13-year-old boys. Their stories reveal the persistent and unpredictable dangers faced by civilians in Gaza, especially children, even under a ceasefire.

In the eastern part of the Bureij refugee camp, a 13-year-old boy, his father, and a 22-year-old man were reportedly hit by an Israeli drone. In the town of Bani Suhaila, a boy named Mutasim Al-Sharafi was shot and killed by Israeli soldiers while he was gathering firewood. His mother, Safa Al-Sharafi, told the Associated Press: He went out hungry in the morning. He told me he would be quick and come back soon. In videos circulating online, the boy's father was seen weeping over his son's body at a hospital bed.

These events have raised a series of sharp questions: Did the boys cross the ceasefire line dividing the Israeli-controlled area from the Palestinian residential zone? Did the Israeli military provide adequate warnings and identification before opening fire? In an environment of severe humanitarian crisis, where families are forced to risk their children to obtain basic cooking fuel, how exactly are the boundaries of military threats defined?

The data from the Gaza Health Department provides a broader picture: since the ceasefire took effect, at least 77 people have been killed by Israeli gunfire near the ceasefire line. Over 100 children have died during the ceasefire, including two infants who succumbed to hypothermia in recent days. These numbers outline a harsh reality: despite the suspension of large-scale combat, the vulnerability of civilians, especially children, remains undiminished. The ceasefire agreement halted the assembly and advancement of troops but failed to establish basic rules and effective barriers to protect civilian lives.

Media Blackout in Gaza: Why Are Journalists a High-Risk Group?

The deaths of the three journalists were not isolated incidents. According to data from Reporters Without Borders, the Israeli military killed at least 29 Palestinian journalists in Gaza in just one year, from December 2024 to December 2025. The Committee to Protect Journalists reports that since the outbreak of the war in October 2023, more than 206 journalists and media workers have been killed in Gaza. 2024 became the deadliest year on record for war correspondents globally, according to the organization.

Behind this staggering figure lies a perfect storm formed by the intertwining of multiple factors.

First, there is the Paradox of Access Restrictions and Information Dependence. Israel has long prohibited international journalists from independently entering Gaza for reporting. Except for a few controlled visits organized by the military, international news agencies have had to rely almost entirely on local Palestinian journalists and residents to obtain firsthand footage and information. This has placed the burden of nearly all frontline reporting risks on local Palestinian journalists, making them the indispensable yet extremely vulnerable eyes through which the world understands the truth in Gaza.

Secondly, there is the Ambiguous Definition and High-Risk Environment in Military Operations. The Israeli military frequently associates any suspicious electronic device operations (such as drones) with Hamas military activities, even though these devices are widely used for news gathering. In a highly tense battlefield environment that emphasizes preemptive action, the equipment and behaviors required for journalism (such as filming and using communication tools) are highly susceptible to being misjudged or directly identified as military threats. The Gaza Strip is densely populated, with complex rules of engagement, and any movement may be scrutinized under a magnifying glass.

Furthermore, there is systematic targeting and lack of accountability. The Palestinian Journalists Syndicate and international media watchdogs have repeatedly accused Israel of systematic actions against journalists. Although the Israeli military claims to have investigated multiple incidents involving journalist deaths (for example, the hospital attack in August 2025 that resulted in the deaths of five people, including AP visual journalist Mariam Dajah, with the investigation having lasted nearly five months), few findings have been made public or led to accountability. This absence of an accountability mechanism effectively lowers the cost of such attacks.

The death of journalists in Gaza has far exceeded the scope of collateral damage. It erodes the foundation of conflict documentation and oversight, creates an information black hole, and makes it harder for the victims' stories to be heard by the world. When the recorders themselves become targets of systematic elimination, the face of history is destined to become fragmented.

Fragile Ceasefire and Unfinished Peace: The Continuation of Structural Violence

The ceasefire agreement in October 2025, as the first phase of the U.S.-led peace plan, aimed to halt the two-year-long war through the exchange of detainees and partial troop withdrawals. Although large-scale military confrontations ceased, the agreement failed to deliver genuine security and stability.

The continuous casualties during the ceasefire reveal a perpetuation of structural violence. This violence does not necessarily manifest as large-scale battles but is reflected through daily military presence, strict control, frequent targeted eliminations, and the squeezing of living space. The death of over 470 Palestinians during the ceasefire period itself constitutes a mockery of the very concept of a truce. It indicates that as long as the fundamental state of hostility, territorial control disputes, and security logic remain unchanged, low-intensity lethal violence will become the norm.

Meanwhile, the humanitarian crisis has not eased. Residents continue to report shortages of blankets, warm clothing, and firewood. Gaza has had no central power supply since the early stages of the war. The extreme scarcity of survival resources has forced civilians, including children, to enter high-risk areas for the most basic living needs, leading to deadly encounters with military lines.

In another dimension, the Israeli airstrikes on multiple locations in southern Lebanon (including weapons storage facilities) on the same day, as well as drone attacks within Lebanon that resulted in casualties, serve as a reminder that the Gaza conflict is not an isolated incident. It is closely linked to broader regional tensions, particularly the confrontation between Israel and Hezbollah. Regional peace is an interconnected whole; a spark in one place can ignite the powder keg in another.

Conclusion: When "Normalcy" Becomes a Tragedy

The death incident in Gaza on January 21 is not an accident, but a microcosm. It epitomizes how the logic of war continues to dominate the lives and deaths of ordinary people during a period of nominal peace; it epitomizes the horrifying price journalists pay when documenting the truth; and it also epitomizes the limitations of the security that so-called ceasefires can bring in the absence of a political solution.

The lens of journalist Abdul Rauf Sha'at is forever frozen, and 13-year-old boy Mutasim Al-Sharafi will never again carry firewood home. Their deaths may be mere brief mentions in official war reports, but on the shattered land of Gaza, they represent the collapse of a family's world and the loss of a piece of historical record.

The international community's discussion on humanitarian aid continues, and negotiations regarding the second phase of the peace plan are underway. However, as long as the protection of civilian lives—whether children gathering firewood or journalists filming—is not placed as an absolute priority, and as long as attacks can be easily justified by perceived threats without facing adequate consequences, then the daily reality in Gaza will still be defined by this whisper-like violence.

True tranquility does not merely stem from the temporary silence of gunfire, but more from the mutual recognition of the dignity of life and institutional guarantees. Before reaching that distant shore, each day in Gaza remains a brutal trek for survival, awaiting the next unknown threat and the next gunshot from an uncertain origin. What the world sees through increasingly fewer eyes may only be the gradually fading fragments of this prolonged tragedy.