The PA and Israel are allies in silencing the truth

On December 28th, 21-year-old journalism student Shatha Al-Sabbagh was assassinated near her home in Jenin. Her family accuses snipers from the Palestinian Authority (PA), deployed in the camp, of shooting her in the head. Al-Sabbagh had been active on social media, documenting the suffering of Jenin residents during Israeli and PA raids.

Days after Al-Sabbagh's assassination, Ramallah authorities banned Al Jazeera from reporting in the occupied West Bank. Three weeks later, PA forces arrested Al Jazeera journalist Muhammad Attrash.

These developments come as Israeli occupation forces have killed over 200 media workers in Gaza and arrested dozens in the occupied Palestinian territories. It has also banned Al Jazeera and denied foreign journalists access to Gaza. The PA's actions mirror those of Israel, revealing their shared agenda of suppressing independent journalism and controlling public opinion.

For Palestinian journalists, this is not news. The PA has never been our protector. It has always been a collaborator in our mistreatment. This was true in the West Bank, and it was true in Gaza when the PA was in power. I witnessed it firsthand.

Growing up in Gaza, I saw firsthand how my people were oppressed by both Israeli forces and the PA. In 1994, Israeli occupation forces officially handed over the Gaza Strip to the PA to administer under the Oslo Accords. The PA remained in power until 2007. In those 13 years, what we saw was more collusion with the Israeli occupation forces than any meaningful attempt at liberation. For journalists, the PA’s presence was not only oppressive but life-threatening as its forces actively suppressed dissent to maintain its fragile grip on power.

As a journalism student in Gaza, I experienced this oppression firsthand. I walked the streets and witnessed PA security personnel robbing stores, their brazen acts of theft revealing their arrogance. One day, as I attempted to document this, a PA officer roughly grabbed me, snatched my camera from my hands, and smashed it on the ground. This was more than just an assault; it was an attack on my right to witness. The officer’s aggression only stopped when a group of women intervened, forcing him to back down, a rare moment of restraint at the time.

I knew the risks of being a journalist in Gaza, and like other media workers, I learned how to navigate them. But the fear I felt near PA troop checkpoints was unprecedented. This was because their aggression lacked any logic, and there was no predicting when they would attack you.

Walking near PA forces was like stepping into a minefield. One moment, there was a facade of safety, and the next, you were facing the brutality of those who were supposed to protect you. This uncertainty and tension made their presence more terrifying than being on a battlefield.

Years later, I would report on Qassam Brigades training sessions under the constant buzz of Israeli drones and the looming threat of airstrikes. It was dangerous, but predictable, much more so than the actions of the PA.

Under PA rule, we learned to speak in code. Journalists self-censored out of fear of reprisal. The PA was often referred to as "the cousin of the Israeli occupation"—a grim acknowledgement of its complicity.

After losing the 2006 elections to Hamas, the PA escalated its brutality in an attempt to maintain power in Gaza. In May 2007, gunmen in presidential guard uniforms assassinated journalists Suleiman Abdel-Rahim Ash and media worker Muhammad Mattar Abdu. It was an execution designed to send a clear message to witnesses.

When Hamas took over, its government also imposed restrictions on press freedom, but its censorship was inconsistent. Once, while documenting a new female police unit, I was ordered to show my photos to a Hamas official so he could censor any images he deemed indecent. I often circumvented these restrictions by switching memory cards beforehand.

Officials did not like anyone subverting their orders, but instead of direct punishment, they resorted to petty power games—investigations, revoking access, or unnecessary provocations. Unlike the PA, Hamas did not operate within a system coordinated with Israeli forces to suppress journalism, but the restrictions journalists faced still created an environment of uncertainty and self-censorship. However, violations by either side are met with swift international condemnation—though the PA’s repression, being more systematic, rarely faces it.

After losing control of Gaza, the PA shifted its focus to the West Bank, intensifying its campaign of media suppression. Detentions, violent crackdowns, and the silencing of critical voices became commonplace. Their collusion with Israel was not passive but active. From surveillance to violent campaigns, they play a crucial role in maintaining the status quo and suppressing any dissent that challenges their power and the occupation.

In 2016, the PA’s collusion became even more apparent when they coordinated with Israeli authorities to arrest prominent journalist and press freedom advocate Omar Nazzal, who had criticized Ramallah’s handling of the suspected murder of Palestinian citizen Omar Nayef at the Bulgarian embassy.

In 2017, the PA launched a campaign of intimidation, arresting five journalists from different media outlets.

In 2019, the PA blocked the website of Quds News Network, a youth-led media outlet that had gained significant popularity. This was part of a broader ban implemented by a Ramallah court that blocked access to 24 other news websites and social media pages.

In 2021, after protests erupted following the violent death of activist Nizar Banat in PA custody, its forces attempted to suppress journalists and media outlets covering the protests.

Against this backdrop, the prospect of the PA returning to Gaza after any ceasefire agreement raises grave concerns for journalists who have already endured the horrors of genocide. For those who survive, it could mean a new chapter of repression, reflecting the PA’s history of censorship, arrests, and suppression of press freedom.

Despite facing grave threats from both Israel and those who claim to represent the Palestinian people, Palestinian journalists persist. Their work transcends borders, reflecting a shared struggle against tyranny. Their resilience embodies not only the Palestinian cause but the broader fight for liberation, justice, and dignity.