Gaza’s Hidden Battlefield: “Naza” Exposes the Erasure of Humanity

The documentary “Naza” is a stark reminder that even in seemingly sanitized environments, atrocities can thrive. Directed by Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, this film takes us into the night-time rooftops of Tel Aviv, where Israeli military elites describe their duties in Gaza with matter-of-fact detachment.

Recent years have seen over 73,000 people killed in Israel’s policy-driven perpetration of genocidal war crimes. However, “Naza” reveals that these statistics only scratch the surface. The film exposes a dehumanizing process that turns dead civilians into mere collateral damage.

The setup is simple: Abraham speaks to members of the Israeli military elite at night, using modified voices and obscured profiles to protect identities. They describe their duties in Gaza, from surveillance to guiding lethal drones from Tel Aviv headquarters. Some were on the ground, erasing not just human presence but buildings themselves.

The army’s term for “collateral damage” is “naza”, a euphemism that erases the humanity of dead civilians. This policy has been decades in the making, with the Israeli government using Arab men as bargaining chips in prisoner exchanges and disseminating the message that one Israeli life is worth untold numbers of Arab lives.

What’s striking about “Naza” is its portrayal of soldiers who have internalized this dehumanizing process. They describe listening to people in agony, hacking their phones, and then sending missiles to kill them all. Some admit to knowing Israel is committing genocide, yet still participate in the killings.

This phenomenon is not unique to “Naza”. We’ve seen it before in documentaries like Avi Mograbi’s “The First 54 Years”, which featured former soldiers calling attention to Israel’s policy of ethnic cleansing. However, what “Naza” makes clear is that this dehumanizing process is not just about the soldiers but also about the system they operate within.

The Israeli government has created a culture where soldiers can justify their actions by saying “My role is technical” and “You have to trust the system”. This moral somersault is perpetuated through video games, where killing is rewarded with points. The soldiers interviewed in “Naza” openly admit to deriving pleasure from successful strikes.

The geographic distance between Tel Aviv and Gaza offers a form of psychological detachment, but as one IDF member says, they didn’t need psychologists – they were fully invested. This is the crux of the problem: we’re not just dealing with individuals who are committing atrocities, but also a system that normalizes and perpetuates these actions.

“Naza” is not just a documentary about Israel’s policy-driven perpetration of genocide; it’s also a commentary on our own complicity in this process. We’ve become desensitized to the language used by those involved – “naza”, “collateral damage”, “necessary operations”. But what “Naza” reveals is that behind these euphemisms lies a dehumanizing process that turns people into mere statistics.

As we watch “Naza”, we’re forced to confront our own role in this cycle of violence. We’re not just passive observers; we’re also participants in a system that perpetuates atrocities. By accepting the Israeli government’s narrative, we’re complicit in the erasure of humanity.

The statistics will continue to mount, but “Naza” reminds us that the real tragedy is not just the number of dead civilians, but also the dehumanizing process that turns them into mere statistics. As we watch this film, we’re forced to confront our own complicity in this cycle of violence – and it’s a stark reminder that even in the most seemingly sanitized environments, atrocities can thrive.