Sitting her wheelchair, with her weary body, amputated leg, and tears that flowed naturally as she spoke about her friend, Reuters photographer Issam Abdallah, Lebanese photographer Christina Assi delivered her message from the heart of France to the world: “We are alive, and we will continue the journey.” Behind her walked her colleague from Agence France-Presse, American photojournalist Dylan Collins, who was also injured in the Israeli attack on journalists on October 13 in southern Lebanon. He, too, delivered his message: “We will not stop reminding the world of those who lost their lives to convey the truth.”

Christina carried the torch of journalism in the name of Issam Abdallah, Farah Omar, Rabih Maamari, and more than a hundred Palestinian journalists killed by Israel while performing their duty of documenting and reporting on the war. The murder of these journalists aimed to obscure Israel’s crimes against Palestinians in Gaza and conceal its true image from the international public.

Amidst this symbolic scene, Christina affirmed to the world that this profession endures despite the deliberate targeting and the heavy price paid by local journalists in Gaza and Lebanon. She highlighted the obstacles, restrictions, and challenges posed by the Israeli occupation against those who expose its brutality and refute its claims before the world.

Christina says she never aspired to be known by the world in this way. She dreamed of being recognized for her work, not her injury. However, what happened has happened, and this, in itself, is another message—a lesson in the principles and meaning of the profession. A journalist is not the news, and exploiting bloodshed or war for personal gain or false fame is an insult to the essence of the profession. It is a denial of its fundamental purpose, which is to convey the truth, amplify the voices of the voiceless, shed light on their suffering, expose the crimes committed by various oppressive regimes, and constantly remind the world of their right to live free from all forms of death, oppression, and violence. It is about demanding complete justice for all the oppressed, wronged, and unjustly killed individuals in this world.

Standing Again

All statements and practices confirm that Israel’s primary goal in this war of extermination is to expel Palestinians, deny them their rights, and prevent them from establishing their state, regardless of the heavy human cost and the destruction of life in Gaza and all Palestinian territories.

Amidst the collapse of all international laws and the inability of the military factions on the ground to deter the Israeli war machine from committing its brutal crimes, the current reliance is solely on the people’s ability to continue living, invent ways to do so, adapt to the imposed reality until its end, and understand what will happen after the war.

The journalist, as a human being first and foremost, is concerned with this continuity and ultimately has the right to determine its nature, whether by continuing their work or abandoning it and seeking possible means of survival. This is the struggle most journalists in Gaza face, living under the same conditions as every Gazan, who must secure daily sustenance, safety for themselves and their families, and shelter from death.

Christina affirmed her desire to return to work, to stand and take photos, and to continue her professional journey from where it stopped, despite her severe injury that makes the return a long, difficult, and complex path. However, she is determined to do so, teaching us all not to succumb to what Israel intended for us, to keep our eyes on what we believe in and strive for, whatever it may be, and to always look forward to the future for which humanity lives.

The wounded, those who lost their homes, lands, and livelihoods, those who lost a family member or a friend, those who lost something tangible in this war, are the ones most concerned with continuing and rejecting absolute death, which necessarily means the absence of existence. This is what the people of Gaza, who continue to find their way to live despite the impossibility of this task, remind us and teach us.

Commitment to the Cause

Since the beginning of the Israeli war on Gaza and southern Lebanon, many have sought to frame solidarity with Palestine and its people’s cause in specific political and social molds, casting doubt on the credibility of those outside these frameworks and challenging their right to show solidarity in ways that align with their intellectual beliefs. Over time, social media has become a battleground for virtual accusations, fruitless debates about the correctness of various forms of solidarity, and a farce that has turned the suffering of Gazans and the people of the south into content shared by some merely for social, professional, and material gain.

In one of his famous interviews, Naji al-Ali spoke about his commitment to the Palestinian cause as a matter larger than any group. This commitment, he said, was understood and did not necessarily require validation by specific standards to grant it the anticipated legitimacy. He foresaw an issue that became more pronounced after October 7, even affecting Gazans directly suffering from Israeli crimes today. This oversight ignores that anyone directly affected by this war has the right to express their personal opinion about it and to freely articulate their feelings, considerations, and vision, which may not align with the standards of those who believe they alone possess the cause and solidarity with it. This applies to many other causes as well, where solidarity does not require fitting into any particular category, name, or group.

Christina’s stance on the day of the targeting at the border, her cry that echoed through the area, her witness to Issam Abdallah’s death, her loss of a leg, and her return to commemorate the names of those who departed along the same path and for the same cause, represent a pure commitment to the profession and its nobility. This profession does not shy away from supporting the cause of people’s rights to life in the face of occupation, and the cause of journalism as a profession whose first and last message is always to tell the truth as loudly as possible, convey reality as it is, speak about the victims against their oppressors, and highlight all circumstances that make this endeavor difficult, sometimes nearly impossible.

This genuine commitment to causes, which dissolves one’s ego and shines a light on the cause—whatever it may be—urges us, as individuals first and journalists second, to reconsider and scrutinize our commitment to our causes, our credibility in it, and our purpose for it. It reminds us that the human being is the cause and the message, and that we must always be careful to do and say what serves this purpose.