TEHRAN – On September 1, more than 250 news outlets in over 70 countries staged a coordinated blackout—blank front pages, darkened homepages, and interrupted broadcasts—in an unprecedented act of solidarity.

Organized by Reporters Without Borders (RSF) with Avaaz and the International Federation of Journalists (IFJ), the protest carried a stark warning: Israel’s war on Gaza is also a war on journalism.

RSF’s director general Thibaut Bruttin put it bluntly: “At the rate journalists are being killed in Gaza by the Israeli army, there will soon be no one left to keep you informed.”

Readers of The Independent in the UK saw nothing but a blank cover. In France, La Croix and L’Humanité ran blacked-out pages.

Germany’s Tageszeitung and Frankfurter Rundschau joined in, while Al Jazeera—mourning ten of its own staff—cut into broadcasts to read a joint statement. “War crimes,” the network called the killings, vowing to keep reporting despite Israel’s domestic shutdown of their operations.

The blackout followed Israel’s August 25 bombing of Nasser Hospital in Khan Younis, which killed at least 22 people, including five journalists—Reuters’ Hussam al-Masri, Associated Press’ Mariam Abu Dagga, Al Jazeera’s Mohammed Salam, freelance photographer Moaz Abu Taha, and Quds Feed’s Ahmad Abu Aziz. Footage showed rescuers and press raising their hands before a second missile struck, a “double-tap” tactic indicating deliberate targeting.

Two weeks earlier, Al Jazeera’s Anas al-Sharif was killed with colleagues when an Israeli strike hit a media tent outside al-Shifa Hospital. In a message prepared before his death, he wrote: “If these words reach you, know that Israel has succeeded in killing me and silencing my voice.”

For Wael al-Dahdouh, Al Jazeera’s Gaza bureau chief, the loss is both professional and personal—burying colleagues and family while condemning deliberate attempts to silence Gaza’s press.

The statistics underscore the dire crisis. Gaza’s Government Media Office reports around 244 Palestinian journalists killed since October 7, 2023, echoed in UN and Al Jazeera coverage. Adding deaths in Lebanon and Iran brings the total to about 259. The Committee to Protect Journalists calls Gaza “the deadliest conflict for media in history.” In 2024 alone, 124 journalists were killed worldwide—70 percent in Gaza.

This pattern is not new. From Imad Abu Zahra in 2002 to Yaser Murtaja in 2018, Israel has repeatedly used lethal force against Palestinian reporters.

Today, foreign correspondents are barred from Gaza, leaving locals to shoulder the risk—only to be smeared as militants and targeted. As former EU foreign policy chief Josep Borrell wrote on X: “Israel has killed over 220 Palestinian journalists in Gaza and imposed a complete media blackout for 23 months. Those who turn off the lights are afraid of what we might see.”

International law is unambiguous: journalists are civilians under Article 79 of the Geneva Conventions. Striking them, hospitals, or press tents constitutes war crimes under the Rome Statute.

RSF has filed complaints with the ICC, and UN experts denounce a “pattern” of violations. Israel’s denials ring hollow in the shadow of cases like Shireen Abu Akleh, the Palestinian-American journalist killed in 2022 despite wearing a press vest, in what Al Jazeera and her family call a targeted assassination.

The blackout’s demands are clear: emergency evacuation for Gaza’s journalists, open access for international media, and sanctions against Israeli commanders. Some critics say the action came late, that coverage has long fallen short. Yet the unprecedented scope signaled a shift: by going dark, global media illuminated Gaza’s erased witnesses.

With more than 63,000 Palestinians killed and 160,000 wounded, Gaza’s journalists remain the lifeline to truth in a genocidal siege. The September 1 protest proved that silence can roar—protect the press, unveil the atrocities, and hold Israel accountable before the last voice fades.