For journalists around the globe, the pursuit of truth has never been more perilous. Nowhere is this more evident than in Gaza, where the ongoing conflict has turned the region into what Brown University’s Costs of War project recently dubbed a “news graveyard.” The risks, however, are not confined to war zones. In the United Kingdom, recent measures to protect reporters highlight a growing recognition that press freedom faces mounting threats, both online and in the streets.
On August 25, 2025, tragedy struck outside Nasser Hospital in Gaza. As journalists gathered to document the aftermath of an Israeli airstrike, a second strike tore through the scene, killing five reporters—including 33-year-old visual journalist Mariam Dagga, who contributed to The Associated Press and other outlets. In total, 22 people died in the attack. Ibrahim Qannan, a correspondent for Al-Ghad TV, was broadcasting live as the horror unfolded. “We live side by side with death,” Qannan told the Associated Press. “I still cannot believe that five of our colleagues were struck in front of me on camera and I try to hold up and look strong to carry the message. May no one feel such feelings. They are painful feelings.”
Since the war in Gaza reignited nearly two years ago, the toll on the press has been staggering. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists, 195 Palestinian media workers have been killed by Israeli forces in Gaza. This number, as Brown University’s report noted, surpasses the combined journalist deaths from the U.S. Civil War, World Wars I and II, the Vietnam and Korean wars, the Yugoslav wars, and the Afghanistan War. For many in the profession, the risks have never been higher.
The dangers extend far beyond the threat of airstrikes. A survey conducted last year by Arab Reporters for Investigative Journalism revealed that nine out of ten Gaza journalists have had their homes destroyed in the conflict. About one in five reported being injured, and a similar number had lost family members. Displacement is a constant reality; Nour Swirki, a journalist for Asharq News, has been forced to move seven times since the war began. She and her husband, also a journalist, sent their children to Egypt for safety, choosing their wellbeing over the comfort of family unity. “I preferred their safety to my motherhood,” Swirki said. “Death is there (in Gaza) every moment, every second and everywhere.”
Yet, despite these overwhelming challenges, Gaza’s journalists persist. They see their work as a duty, a mission to ensure the world hears Gaza’s voice directly from its people. “We get afraid and terrified and we work under the harshest conditions, but we still stand up and work,” Swirki said. The sense of responsibility is palpable. Qannan, who has been displaced as many times as Swirki, described the exhaustion and hunger that now define daily life. He recently posted on social media about a group of journalists sharing a kilogram of pasta—costing an exorbitant $60. Still, he strives to appear strong on camera, hoping to reassure viewers even as he privately battles fatigue and fear. “The situation is terrifying more than the human brain can imagine. The fear that we are living and fear of being targeted are worse than is being described,” he said.
The international community has taken notice, but responses have varied. Following the August 25 hospital strike, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu called the deaths a “tragic mishap,” insisting the military was not deliberately targeting journalists. The Israeli military claimed the strike was aimed at a Hamas surveillance camera and that six of those killed were militants, though no evidence was provided. The Associated Press and Reuters, both of which lost staff in the attack, have demanded a full accounting and greater protection for those covering the conflict. Press advocates argue that the risks Gaza journalists face are unparalleled. Mohamed Salama, an academic and former reporter, told the AP, “It’s about dying or living, escaping violence or not. It’s something we cannot compare (to other wartime journalism) at any level.”
For some, the fear is not just of violence but of becoming a target because of their work. After airing footage of the hospital attack, Qannan said his anxiety intensified, worried that the visibility might draw further attention from the Israeli military. Others, like Mohammed Subeh, have suffered physical injuries—Subeh was struck by shrapnel in the same August attacks and has been unable to seek treatment due to overwhelmed hospitals. “A journalist in Gaza lives between covering the war on the ground, following the news and at the same time trying to take care of his safety and the safety of his family,” Subeh explained. Despite contemplating escape, he remains, committed to the mission: “I feel that my presence here is important and that the voice of Gaza should be sent to the world from its own residents. Journalism is not only a job for me, but a mission.”
While the dangers in Gaza are extreme, journalists elsewhere are not immune to threats. In the United Kingdom, the government recently announced that every police force now has a dedicated Journalist Safety Liaison Officer (JSLO), a move hailed as a “crucial milestone” by the National Union of Journalists. All 43 police forces in England and Wales, along with the British Transport Police and Counter Terror Policing, have joined the initiative, which extends prior coverage in Scotland and Northern Ireland. The officers provide safety guidance for high-risk reporting—like protests—and ensure crimes against journalists are properly recorded and addressed. The appointments are part of the UK’s national action plan for journalist safety, launched in October 2023.
Media Minister Ian Murray underscored the importance of the move, stating, “Too often, journalists are put in harm’s way while fulfilling their vital role of delivering accurate news to the public. It is only right that they feel supported and protected.” The Society of Editors and the News Media Association both welcomed the initiative, and Deputy Chief Constable Sam de Reya of the National Police Chiefs Council added, “We will continue to play our part in ensuring that journalists are protected and empowered to do their jobs without fear or intimidation.”
The push for safety comes amid a backdrop of rising attacks on the press. The murder of Lyra McKee, a Northern Irish journalist shot while observing riots in Derry in 2019, remains a stark reminder of the dangers journalists face even in established democracies. According to a 2025 Amnesty International report, there have been 71 attacks or threats against journalists in Northern Ireland since McKee’s death, prompting some reporters to install bullet-proof windows, reinforced doors, panic buttons, and CCTV at home. Many, however, have grown so disillusioned with the system that they no longer report threats, citing “time consuming processes and lack of action or positive outcome.”
Globally, the Committee to Protect Journalists reported that 104 journalists and media workers were killed in 2024, with 375 imprisoned and 70 missing. The numbers are sobering, and the stories behind them—whether in Gaza, the UK, or elsewhere—underscore the profound risks journalists take to inform the public. The world may be watching, but for those who carry the burden of bearing witness, the stakes have never been higher.
Through the lens of conflict and the shadow of intimidation, journalists persist, determined to bring stories from the world’s darkest corners into the light—no matter the cost.
