On September 10, 2025, a devastating Israeli airstrike on a government press complex in Sanaa, Yemen, left 31 journalists and media workers dead, marking the deadliest single attack on media professionals since the Maguindanao massacre in the Philippines 16 years ago, according to the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ). This strike, which also claimed the life of a child accompanying a journalist to work, has sent shockwaves through the international press freedom community and reignited debate over the targeting of journalists in conflict zones.
The attack occurred at 4:45 p.m. local time, just as staff at the Yemeni army’s official news outlet were finalizing a weekly print edition, editor in chief Nasser Al-Khadri told CPJ. The timing, he explained, contributed to the high death toll, as journalists and media workers from three Houthi-connected outlets were present in the heart of Yemen’s capital. The Houthi Health Ministry later reported that 35 people were killed, with 131 wounded, though the precise breakdown between journalists and other civilians remains unclear.
Israel’s military justified the strike by stating it had targeted the Houthi military public relations headquarters, which it described as “responsible for distributing and disseminating pro-Houthi propaganda messages, including speeches of the Houthi leader Abd al-Malik and statements from Houthi spokesman Yahya Sari.” In a statement to The Washington Post, the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) added, “During the war, the headquarters led the propaganda efforts and the terrorist regime’s psychological terror.” However, when pressed for evidence of military activity at the press site, the IDF did not provide any.
The destruction wrought by this and other recent Israeli strikes has been severe. According to Houthi authorities, dozens have been killed and homes destroyed in Sanaa in recent weeks. Al-Khadri lamented the loss of his newspaper’s printing press and century-old archives, telling CPJ, “Its loss is deeply painful.” For many Yemeni journalists, the attack has compounded the difficulties of working in a country already battered by a decade of civil war, economic collapse, and press repression.
Human rights advocates have been quick to condemn the strike. Niku Jafarnia, a Yemen and Bahrain researcher at Human Rights Watch, argued that “propaganda is not enough to make a media institution a military target.” She explained, “They must be actively contributing to military action, for example engaging in military communications.” International law, she emphasized, considers journalists civilians unless they are directly involved in combat or military operations.
Journalists in Houthi-controlled areas have long faced restrictions and detentions. Since the Houthis seized control of Sanaa in 2014, newspapers in the capital have been largely under their control. “They immediately detained many journalists and took over media institutions,” Jafarnia noted, referencing her documentation of attacks on Yemen’s press corps throughout the country’s 11-year civil war, including the deadly attack last week.
This pattern of violence against journalists is not limited to Yemen. According to CPJ’s tally, the Israeli military has killed at least 233 journalists and media workers across Gaza, Lebanon, Iran, and Yemen since the October 7, 2023, Hamas attack on Israel. Last week’s strike in Sanaa echoed a June attack on the headquarters of Iran’s state broadcaster in Tehran, after which Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz pledged that “the mouthpiece of Iranian propaganda” would “disappear.” In both cases, Israel claimed to be targeting military communication centers, but did not provide evidence that the press complexes were legitimate military targets.
The dangers for journalists reporting from conflict zones have become increasingly acute, with Yemen’s press corps particularly vulnerable. Mohamed Mandour, a Middle East and North Africa researcher for CPJ, described the difficulties in documenting the aftermath of Israel’s strikes in Sanaa due to press censorship. The Houthis banned the publication of photos and videos from the attack site, making independent verification and reporting nearly impossible. Moreover, a $15 million reward offered by the U.S. State Department for information disrupting Houthi finances has seeded paranoia among Yemenis, many of whom fear reprisals if they communicate with Americans or foreign journalists.
For many in Yemen, the attack on the press complex is just the latest blow in a series of calamities. Years of economic sanctions, rampant inflation, and civil war have left more than 82 percent of the country living in poverty, according to a 2024 United Nations report. International aid, which had long helped keep Yemenis afloat, was cut off by the United States in February, further deepening the country’s humanitarian crisis. Just days before the strike, U.N. humanitarian coordinator Tom Fletcher told the Security Council that nearly half the population now suffers “severe food deprivation.”
Yemen analysts warn that the destruction of the press complex could cripple what remains of the country’s media infrastructure. Arwa Mokdad, a Middle East analyst at the University of Oxford, noted, “A lot of these journalists would sleep in the office because they just couldn’t afford rent anymore. If you’re talking about the biggest threat to Yemeni journalists right now, prior to this attack, it was the dire economic crisis in Yemen. Now you’re adding, ‘I’m going to be bombed.’”
Meanwhile, the international community’s response has been muted. Governments have largely remained silent on the Israeli strike, a fact that worries press freedom advocates. Mandour fears that the lack of condemnation will embolden further attacks on journalists, remarking, “If you can kill 31 journalists in one night, you can kill 10 in another day.”
In the broader context of the Middle East, the targeting of journalists has become a flashpoint in the information war that accompanies military conflict. While Israel and its supporters argue that media outlets connected to hostile groups like the Houthis and Hamas serve as extensions of enemy propaganda, human rights organizations and press advocates insist that civilian journalists must be protected under international law, regardless of the content they produce, unless they are directly participating in hostilities.
This debate has become especially heated as misinformation and propaganda swirl around the region’s conflicts. In the Gaza Strip, for instance, claims about the number of journalists killed have been hotly contested. Former MSNBC host Mehdi Hasan recently asserted at a rally in London that Israel had killed 270 Palestinian journalists in Gaza over the past two years—more than the combined total killed in five major wars of the 20th and 21st centuries. However, this figure has been widely debunked. As The Post reported, the database cited for this statistic drastically undercounts journalist deaths in historical conflicts and includes individuals closely affiliated with militant groups.
Complicating matters further, the Foreign Press Association and other organizations have long warned that journalists in Gaza and other conflict areas face pressure and threats from local authorities—such as Hamas or the Houthis—making truly independent reporting a rarity. The fog of war, in other words, is thickened by propaganda, censorship, and the ever-present risk of violence.
As the dust settles in Sanaa, the loss of 31 journalists and media workers stands as a grim reminder of the perils faced by those who seek to document the world’s most dangerous conflicts. For Yemen’s battered media landscape, and for journalists across the Middle East, the message is clear: the risks have never been greater, and the need for accountability has never been more urgent.