Over Two Decades After Scholarly Rebuke, The Times Faces Fresh Criticism for Editorial Choices in Covering the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict
It has been more than two decades since journalism scholar Barbie Zelizer’s critique of The New York Times’s coverage of the Middle East – a perspective that condemned what she perceived as the publication’s pro-Israel bias. Yet, it appears the contention surrounding The Times’s reportage has not ebbed with the passage of years. Last week, The Intercept revealed a leak that could rekindle longstanding debates about media objectivity and the power of language in the framing of conflict.
The crux of this latest controversy is a New York Times internal memo reportedly directing its journalists to eschew terms like “genocide,” “ethnic cleansing,” and “occupied territories” in the context of the protracted and bloodied Gaza crisis. Phrases such as “slaughter” and “massacre” have also been sidelined, especially when addressing acts of violence attributed to Israeli forces against Palestinians, according to the leaked document.
This directive, if accurately reported, signifies more than an editorial dictum; it is a contentious decision that undulates through the very ethos of journalism as the draft of history in real-time. The memo’s implications strike at the heart of an enduring tension within newsrooms globally—the struggle of reflecting reality without inflaming wounds or biases.
The alleged guidance marks a notable departure from the lexicon traditionally associated with conflict coverage, a lexicon that, volunteers or needles the moral compass of its audience. For the critics, these omissions are tantamount to journalistic malpractice. They maintain that such editorial choices effectively whitewash the suffering of Palestinians and blunt the sharp edges of Israeli policy and action—the steel often sheathed in velvet. Here lies the debate over terminology which is ostensibly descriptive yet intrinsically charged with political judgment.
Accepted Terms
This debate is further inflamed by the stance of those who assert that Israeli leaders have sporadically voiced ambitions that can be construed as ethnocentric and exclusionary, qualifying even under the severe headings of ‘genocide’ or ‘ethnic cleansing’. The use of “occupied territories” for lands internationally recognized as under Israeli occupation – especially following the war of 1967 – is supported by a consensus within the United Nations and various human rights organizations. For the critics, the expunging of such terms not only conflicts with international law but also diverges from the rigors of responsible reporting.
Supporters of The Times may argue that the memo reflects an attempt to maintain neutrality in the midst of a highly combustible international affair. They may posit that measured language serves to provide clarity free of emotional incitement. However, for the detractors, these editorial decisions evidence an alignment with one side of the Israeli-Palestinian dialectic, tipping the scales of balanced reporting.
The implications of such a linguistic sanitization are manifold. On a practical level, it affects the understanding and perception of a global audience relying on The Times for comprehensive and unfettered insights into one of the most tumultuous geopolitical arenas. On a broader, more profound level, it touches on the journalistic pilgrimage to truth—illuminating the questioning of what constitutes objectivity and neutrality in an age where media is as much a mirror to reality as it is a molder of public consciousness.
The onus placed on reporters vis-à-vis lexicon becomes a yoke of ethical burden. How does one navigate the fine line between reportage and respect, between telling the unvarnished tale and ensuring reportorial integrity does not morph into inadvertent advocacy? This scenario is further complicated considering the ever-evolving standards and sensibilities of journalistic institutions and their audiences.
The leaked memo and the subsequent fallout underscores a persistent, underlying issue within media coverage of the Middle East: the struggle for fairness amidst an inherently asymmetric conflict that pits a sovereign state against stateless peoples, conventional military might against insurgency, territorial legality against humanitarian appeal.
The New York Times, like all media giants, wields significant influence in shaping discourse and galvanizing public opinion. As such, it becomes crucial for the sanctity of journalism that its reportage not only informs but does so with an acute awareness of the gravity carried by each word chosen. The delineation of language is in itself an encapsulation of the broader, omnipresent battle for truth and reconciliation within the grounds of ethical journalism.
In a media landscape multifariously determined by conglomerates and clicks, the reported leaked guidance of The New York Times — should it reflect actual editorial policy — may signify a concerning precedent: the pre-emptive softening of reportorial sharpness for purposes not entirely aligned with the journalistic ideal. To regain the confidence of its critics, the publication will need to engage with the substance of this most recent report and navigate the minefield of Middle Eastern coverage with a nuanced, principled, and transparent hand, respecting international consensus and the lexicon it dictates.
