Silencing Jerusalem: Israel’s ban on Palestinian media is an attempt to hide Zionist crimes
Five media organisations have been ‘outlawed’ in the latest Israeli assault on Palestinian journalists who have been risking their lives and limbs to speak truth to power.
Shortly after midnight on Sunday, Israeli Defence Minister Israel Katz signed a military order that quietly but decisively reshaped the media landscape in occupied East Jerusalem.
Five Palestinian digital media platforms — Al-Asima, Mi’raj, Al-Quds Al-Bawsala, Quds Plus, and Al-Midan — were officially designated as prohibited organisations, accused of links to Hamas and of “incitement,” allegations that were issued without publicly presented evidence.
For Palestinians, and for anyone trying to understand what is unfolding in Jerusalem, the significance of this move goes far beyond press freedom.
It signals an accelerating effort to impose near-total information control over the city — at a moment when facts on the ground are changing rapidly, and scrutiny is most needed.
Why these platforms matter
Jerusalem is not an open city for Palestinians. The occupied West Bank is fragmented by checkpoints, gates, and roadblocks.
For most Palestinians, entry into occupied East Jerusalem is either impossible or subject to Israeli permits that are routinely denied. International journalists face increasing restrictions as well.
In that environment, these Jerusalem-based digital platforms became indispensable. They provided minute-by-minute reporting from the Old City, Palestinian neighbourhoods, and, most critically, the Al-Aqsa Mosque compound.
During Ramadan, during raids, during illegal settler incursions — these outlets were the connective tissue between Jerusalem and the rest of Palestine. They didn’t just report news. They documented their presence.
That is precisely why they are now gone.
Israeli authorities say the banned outlets were used to incite unrest. Palestinian journalists say this follows a familiar script: sweeping security accusations issued without transparent evidence, applied selectively to Palestinian reporters.
This pattern has played out repeatedly over the years.
Allegations are made, often later challenged or debunked, but the consequences are immediate and irreversible — arrests, closures, imprisonment, and in some cases, death.
The goal is not to win a legal argument. It is to remove voices from the field.
The ban on Palestinian Jerusalem platforms did not happen in isolation.
It follows Israel’s renewed restrictions on Al Jazeera, whose operations have been barred inside Israel — a move widely criticised by press freedom groups and virtually unprecedented for a state that claims democratic credentials.
Together, these steps amount to a sustained campaign to narrow who gets to report on Israel, Palestine, and especially Jerusalem.
Journalists on the ground describe a chilling effect: editors self-censor, fixers pull back, and reporters increasingly calculate whether a story is worth the personal risk.
Jerusalem without witnesses
With Katz’s order, Israel has effectively outlawed almost every Palestinian digital platform dedicated exclusively to Jerusalem.
These outlets chronicled daily realities rarely covered elsewhere: home demolitions, land seizures, settler takeovers, arrests, and repeated incursions into holy sites.
For international media unable to maintain permanent access, they often filled critical reporting gaps.
In their final weeks, some platforms were forced to report on Israeli incursions into Al-Aqsa from outside the Old City — including from the Mount of Olives — after authorities ensured that not a single Palestinian journalist affiliated with them was allowed to work inside.
One of the banned outlets, Al-Asima (The Capital) Network, announced it was suspending operations. “This is not a retreat from our mission,” the network said, “but a measure to protect our journalists from the occupation’s brutality.”
For Palestinian journalists, the ban merely formalises what they have long experienced: arrests, beatings, equipment confiscation, travel bans, and exclusion from key sites.
Since the start of the war on Gaza, the risks have multiplied.
Over the past two and a half years, more than 250 Palestinian journalists have been killed.
More than 200 journalists and media workers have been detained by Israeli authorities; at least 42 remain in prison, many accused of “incitement” for publishing facts or footage.
Being a Palestinian journalist today is not just dangerous — it is increasingly untenable.
Palestinian analysts argue that Israel views the current moment — war in Gaza, international paralysis, regional distraction — as a historic window to accelerate long-standing plans in Jerusalem.
From this perspective, silencing Palestinian media is not the objective. It is the preparation.
Civil society groups warn that media blackouts often precede intensified measures on the ground: increased policing, residency revocations, home demolitions, and pressure on Palestinian institutions.
As Palestinian platforms go dark and international outlets face mounting restrictions, Jerusalem is being sealed off — not just physically, but narratively.
What remains is a carefully managed silence, enforced through legal orders, military designations, and digital erasure.
And in a city where power is exercised as much through visibility as through force, that silence may prove to be one of the most consequential developments yet.