How the Media Failed Victims of Sexual Violence in the Israel-Hamas Conflict

The New York Times is under fire for its December investigation that claimed to have definitive evidence of Hamas deploying rape as a weapon of its terror campaign on October 7, when it massacred more than 1,000 individuals in Israel and abducted more than 200 others as hostages.

The criticism of the exposé is certainly warranted: The methods used to get the story, the reliability of some of the sources, and the lack of objectivity in the Times’ reporting — all traditional benchmarks of journalistic ethics — were questionable at best and damaging at worst.

But for all the exposé’s ethical shortcomings, its greatest failure was its lack of consideration for the safety, trauma, and dignified treatment of the victims.

None of the outlets that took the Times to task offered a victim- or survivor-centered angle in their analyses. None called out that the paper’s investigation leaned on biased and inexperienced reporters to publish a story that exploited real people’s pain, terror, and graphic details of bodily violation — one that not only debased the victim at the center of the story but also deceived her family into participating in it.

Media coverage often fixates on gratuitous descriptions of sexual violence in conflict zones at the expense of the victims and survivors, casting them aside and depriving them of their humanity. The Times story serves as a gross example of the consequences of such careless journalism.

Indeed, because of its inadequate and unethical reporting on an extremely sensitive subject, the Times’ story, titled “‘Screams Without Words’: How Hamas Weaponized Sexual Violence on Oct. 7,” has only served to discredit credible accounts of sexual violence committed on that day, undoubtedly causing more harm to the victims and their families than the benefits that can come from ethically drawing attention to atrocities.

To be clear, following their visit to Israel to conduct a preliminary investigation, a team of UN experts did find “reasonable grounds” to believe that conflict-related sexual violence occurred as part of the October 7 attacks against civilians. This standard of proof refers to determinations made on the basis of available evidence, where a reasonable person would conclude that the allegation is more likely to be true than not. It essentially means that there is a logical and credible basis for believing the facts and evidence.

Pramila Patten, the UN Special Representative of the Secretary-General on Sexual Violence in Conflict, also found “clear and convincing” evidence (a higher standard of proof) of sexual violence perpetrated against hostages — with valid concern for those still being held captive.

However, the controversy over the veracity of the Times’ reporting has entirely distracted from the actual events as well as the findings in the UN report, inciting unreasonable suspicion over whether sexual violence was perpetrated against civilians in Israel at all.

What happened

The Intercept’s investigation into the Times’ story revealed that, for reasons that are still unclear, the Times hired two inexperienced freelancers to do the bulk of on-the-ground reporting to support a narrative that Hamas perpetrated systematic rape on October 7: Anat Schwartz, a documentary filmmaker and former Israeli air force intelligence officer, had no prior journalism experience yet was hired along with her partner’s nephew, Adam Sella, a freelance journalist whose prior work consisted mainly of stories on food and culture. Jeffrey Gettleman, an international correspondent for the Times, was flown in to write the story largely based on the evidence that Schwartz and Sella collected — or didn’t.

What’s more, The Intercept investigation surfaced Schwartz’s alarming social media history, which included a post she “liked” that called for Gaza to be “turned into a slaughterhouse.” At the very least, it suggests a breach of the Times’ own social media policy; at worst, it exposes the flagrant bias of a Times contractor, who was responsible for the newspaper of record’s most consequential coverage of October 7.

The Times story’s critics are right to ask why someone with no prior experience as a journalist would be entrusted with a front-page story, but they didn’t go far enough: Journalistic experience varies significantly, and absolutely no one should be parachuting into reporting on sexual violence — especially not in the context of an active conflict — without the necessary experience and knowledge.

In a podcast, Schwartz disclosed that she did not have experience reporting on sexual violence, nor with interviewing victims, and that she struggled to find evidence or to understand what constitutes “systematic” sexual violence, which involves the deliberate use of rape and sexual violence by military or armed groups as a strategy of war.

According to The Intercept, Schwartz defined systematic rape by multiple victims: “Something about it is systematic,” she was quoted saying. “Something about it feels to me that it’s not random.” While the term “systematic rape” may suggest involvement of multiple victims, its legal characterization primarily concerns the use of sexual violence as a deliberate strategy by military or militia groups, rather than the number of individuals harmed.

Systematic sexual violence is not incidental (as in a crime of opportunity) but planned and implemented as part of a military tactic to terrorize and control a population. The UN team’s preliminary investigation was inconclusive on whether or not the sexual violence perpetrated was systematic, saying that further investigation is warranted.

With an inaccurate but preconceived idea in mind, Schwartz actively sought out victims by visiting rape crisis centers, psychiatric hospitals, and a holistic treatment facility founded after the October 7 attack — all places that focus on helping victims in recovery from trauma while protecting their confidentiality. Failing to understand these professional obligations, Schwartz expressed frustration with the therapists and counselors, interpreting their lack of cooperation as willful engagement in a “conspiracy of silence.”

Schwartz, along with other equally inexperienced sources — such as volunteer first responders and Zaka, a conservative religious organization — drew hasty conclusions about sexual violence based on visual documentary evidence without having the experience to conduct a forensic evaluation. As the UN report points out, non-experts’ “unreliable interpretations of documentary evidence” led to misinterpretations of specific incidents that were reported in the media inaccurately as conclusive evidence of rape, such as that involving two girls in the Be’eri kibbutz, a claim that the UN later determined to be unfounded.

In its rush to report on systematic sexual violence by Hamas, the Times published an investigation that was unreliable, triggering a public maelstrom of debate over whether sexual violence even occurred.

This debate should not even exist; such determination is the responsibility of trained investigators, who now have to work back from both the Times’ mishandling of the story as well as the resulting critiques, which not only distorted the very real instances of sexual violence but also did a serious disservice to the victims and their families.

Abusing sources

The Times centered its story on Gal Abdush, an Israeli woman who the paper reported was brutally raped by Hamas militants. Reporters Schwartz, Sella, and Gettleman concluded that she was raped by looking at video footage collected from a woman looking for her missing friend, and through interviews with some of Abdush’s family as well as Israeli authorities.

But after the investigation was published, several of her family members said that they did not believe that she was raped, and that they did not understand that this would be the focus of the Times’ reporting prior to publishing.

If the Abdush family was not adequately informed about the framing of the story, then the process by which the Times secured consent to disclose the identities and photographs of Abdush’s family becomes dubious. If the permission was granted based on incomplete or misleading information, the reporters denied the victim’s family their right to make informed decisions regarding their engagement with the story, the use of their images, and their level of comfort with the story’s angle.

The risk of harm to the Abdush family goes beyond the use of false pretenses to secure sources and photographs. The main image portrays the grieving family next to Abdush’s wedding photo, followed by a graphic description of the condition of her body (suggesting she was raped). If, as the Abdush family claimed, they were unaware of the narrative’s angle, then they were likely unprepared for their family’s image to contrast the story’s graphic lede. This image has been widely circulated and is now forever in the public domain, along with the description of Abdush’s remains, even as the Times acknowledged that Abdush’s children were unaware of how their parents died. As of this writing, the Times has not issued a retraction.

The shortcomings here lie with the Times not considering the potential for further trauma to Abdush’s family due to the liberties it took in reporting this story — or, if the paper had considered it, for proceeding with the story anyway.

The Times obtained images and video — including of Abdush’s body — from Eden Wesley, a woman who went to the crime scene at the Kibbutz Re’im, where the Nova festival took place, to look for her missing friend. Wesley uploaded a video she took dated October 8 of a deceased woman in a black dress, now known to be Gal Abdush. The video, uploaded onto Instagram and shared with the Times, revealed Abdush’s body in the aftermath of the attack, lying in a manner that suggested the brutality of the assault.

Wesley told Ynet that Schwartz and Sella sent her numerous messages across multiple social media apps pressuring her to give them the documentation she had gathered that day, encouraging her by saying it would help Israeli hasbara, loosely meaning public diplomacy that communicates Israel’s position to the world.

It is not only biased but deeply unethical for journalists to exploit victims and witnesses of sexual violence for war propaganda, further violating their dignity and undermining the integrity of their personal experiences.

Also concerning is that the Times didn’t sufficiently safeguard the anonymity of its sources despite acknowledging that it was necessary to keep their identities confidential. In an interview with another witness, the Times withheld her last name “to protect her identity” but disclosed her first name, age, and profession. This is a common error in journalism: Only partially identifying sources can also put them at risk of exposure.

The Intercept, too, revealed identifying information when following up on reports that two minor girls were sexually assaulted in the Be’eri kibbutz, stating that “the Intercept has identified the girls but is not printing their first names” — then proceeding to print their first initials and family names.

Protecting the identity of victims, survivors, and their families is crucial in cases where exposure could put them at risk of retaliation, stigma, and intense media scrutiny. Exposing identities shouldn’t be done without meaningful consent. Protecting the safety and privacy of victims should outweigh the need to enhance a story by making its sources public.

Following criticism, the Times commissioned a follow-up story, which mentioned that Abdush’s sister later retracted her initial disbelief regarding the assault on her sister, citing confusion. Most likely, no one working on this Times story considered that this retracing placed Abdush’s family in a difficult position, compelled to clarify their stance once again due to the initial inadequate reporting.

It is not the responsibility of the victim’s family to defend the media, nor to help prove that the Times reporting was accurate by giving repeat interviews. We are talking about people who are grieving and traumatized, and giving repeated interviews can cause severe emotional distress when they’re forced to retrace their prior statements.

Other media outlets are also complicit in publishing gratuitous and explicit details of sexual violence taken from witness accounts and documentary evidence — details that can be disturbing for the general public, but even more so for the families of the victims.

Disclosing excessive details about sexual violence does not contribute to achieving justice for the victims; instead, it may compromise their dignity and recovery. These outlets are not helping the victims and survivors; instead they are conveying sensational graphic details for profit.

Repeating mistakes from the past

This is not the first time the Times has gotten it wrong on this issue.

In 2014, when the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (IS) attacked Sinjar in Iraq and abducted thousands of women and girls from the Yazidi minority community, journalists from all over the world flocked to camps where displaced Yazidis lived — including those who escaped or were rescued — hunting for victims and pressuring them to tell and retell their stories. Many of them reported on graphic details of rape without obtaining informed consent.

Often, interviewed victims were minors who had recently returned from captivity to learn that their family members were missing or killed.

Among those reporting on the sexual violence was Times journalist Rukmini Callimachi, who published multiple pieces on the rape of Yazidis and had one survivor on her “Caliphate” podcast. Both Callimachi’s reporting and her podcast were later discredited when it was revealed by Canadian investigators that a key source was lying about his IS involvement.

Then as now, the credibility of the Times reporting was undermined.

Again, the criticism against the “Caliphate” that followed focused on traditional journalistic ethics, mainly the lack of objectivity when using a source who lied. However, critics failed to raise any concerns over Callimachi’s interviews, which involved minors who were asked to describe rape and enslavement in detail. No one seemed to be concerned about the minor, who had just been returned after three years in IS captivity, and whether she had the mental capacity to consent to an interview because of her age and trauma.

In reporting on the October 7 attacks, the media betrayed a familiar blind spot when it comes to evaluating the unique ethical standards that apply to reporting on sexual violence in conflict.

From my research with sociologist Dr. Johanna Foster — titled “Voices of Yazidi Women: Perceptions of journalistic practices in the reporting on ISIS sexual violence” — on how Yazidi survivors felt about the way their stories were gathered and reported, it was apparent then, as now, that journalists pressured survivors to speak up, supported by Yazidi community leaders who were desperate for international support.

Some survivors said that they gave their stories to as many as 20 journalists, detailing incidents of rape each time.

The narrative of the passive rape victim emerged out of this extensive media coverage and came to characterize the genocide, even when there were many other crimes committed by IS. As usual, the incredible courage demonstrated by survivors was rarely the focus of any of it.

Yazidi survivors described flashbacks when retelling their stories to journalists, “as if we were with ISIS.” Despite the Islamic State’s defeat in 2019, Yazidi survivors report not feeling safe even today, fearing future attacks.

While it was emotionally triggering to relive what happened, survivors said they believed that sharing their stories with a prominent outlet like the Times could lead to international protection and the return of women from captivity, so they were willing to bear it. Almost a decade later, an estimated 1,262 female survivors remain missing, and no one has been prosecuted for the rape and enslavement of Yazidi women and girls.

Similarly, in Israel, the Times suggested that revealing systematic sexual violence would lead to justice, regardless of how it was perceived. However, if their portrayal is later found to be inaccurate, it could jeopardize the credibility of witness testimony and documentation, potentially compromising future efforts for justice.

There are real consequences of this kind of exposure: Victims’ families may face retaliation against relatives in captivity, for example. Dr. Foster and I met a Yazidi woman who reported being beaten by her IS captors when they saw her relative do a television interview. The same risk is present now, as media outlets hound recently released hostages or family members of those still captive for interviews.

Victims and survivors have a right to privacy, especially to avoid intense media scrutiny, which was actually identified as a concern by the Times when its reporters conducted a follow-up interview with one October 7 survivor in a public café.

There also may be concerns among family members and communities in the kibbutzim attacked on October 7 over the stigma of being identified as sexual violence victims — another consideration that none of the media outlets seem to have taken seriously, if at all. Importantly, one of the most common reasons for protecting a survivor’s identity is to avoid stigma and shame.

For those who endured the violence on October 7, and their families, the threat lingers as the conflict continues. Telling their stories involves significant danger, and any further misrepresentation by the media could expose them to greater harm.

The consequences of the Times investigation have been far reaching: It mishandled a subject that has been abused in order to galvanize support for Israel’s retaliatory campaign in Gaza following Hamas’ attack, which includes its own dimension of sexual violence perpetrated against Palestinians — albeit with far less media attention.

Our research benefited a lot from listening to Yazidi survivors about what they need to be and feel secure about going public. From the Times’ reporting, then as now, it remains unclear whether its journalists ever considered asking their sources the same question.

Considering that most of the victims in question are no longer alive, securing consent from their families before sharing personal and sensitive information is critical. It should go without saying that the dignity of victims and survivors must be prioritized in their treatment and portrayal.

Although the damage already has been done in so many instances, media outlets moving forward must exercise common-sense sensitivity and discretion, using existing guidelines when deciding how to tell the rest of the story on sexual violence that occurred on October 7, especially as more hostages are released.