At Haaretz, Doron Rosenblum writes Israel’s commando complex:

The failure of the flotilla operation is less troubling than the national "jonesing" that has followed it: the frenetic flitting between the poles of reflexive victimhood − Oy oy oy they resisted, they had knives, swords and other weapons, the activists who were killed were "big-bodied" − and of inert heroism ‏(praise for the restraint and sensitivity that resulted in only nine and not 600 deaths; the desperate attempt to cling to the vestiges of the myths of military prowess and the increased stifling of criticism with the slogan "Quiet, we’re saluting"‏). All of these, together with a great sense of missed opportunity: the illusion that a "successful" operation − difficult to define and to imagine in any event − would have relieved, even temporarily, a certain existential angst. All these responses were more intense this week, although in fact they are constant. They are the responses of addicts who are repeatedly denied their fix: the perfect IDF "operation," or the decisive war, which will stifle any question and complaints ‏(and any need for statesmanship‏). Some point to a sea change in the Palestinian, and even the Hamas, leadership, saying that they have finally discovered the advantages of propaganda and statesmanship over violence and terror. Instead of encouraging and wholeheartedly adopting this approach, Israel, which hasn’t changed its thought patterns for decades, is "caught by surprise" and even dismayed. ‏(Recently an intelligence official actually called the absence of Palestinian terror a "propaganda problem"‏). In the absence of statesmanship, all Israel can offer is another clumsy operation in which it comes off looking like some relic from the 1970s and ‘80s with a commando knife between its teeth. Even worse: It looks like Avigdor Lieberman, Eli Yishai, Moshe Ya’alon and all the rest. Israel has always complained, condescendingly, that the neighbors it is forced to deal with are Arabs rather than "Norwegians and Swedes." Now, when it is dealing with Europeans and the entire world, Israel can see how it itself is perceived − and to blush furiously. If it still can.

The faces of the dead always serve a purpose in political conflict. That's true when it's the beturbaned visage of the latest dead No. 3 of al Qaeda spread across the pages of media on six continents. Or when it's the faceless dead civilians wiped out by the most recent drone attack in northwest Pakistan. No pictures of them, please.

Take note how the first is never considered propaganda. But when someone somewhere does choose to present images of dead civilians in a conflict, the cries of propaganda are rife. "You're playing on people's emotions." Or "That doesn't tell the whole story." Or, "They weren't really civilians." These rationalizations rarely apply when the civilians are civilians on "our side."

For instance, the right wing in the United States said this about the photo of Phan Thị Kim Phúc, the naked, napalmed 9-year-old girl photographed running down a Vietnamese road in 1972. Propaganda, they claimed. Aiding and abetting the enemy. The photo won a Pulitzer despite Richard Nixon's claim that it was probably "fixed." Did it tell the whole story of that conflict? No. But it was no lie.

The following pictures don't come close to telling the whole story of the events of May 31 in international waters off Gaza. Nor of the complex larger story of decades of conflict of Israel/Palestine. They can't. They are simply images of nine civilians shot dead on the deck of the Mavi Marmara. Some people will no doubt consider publishing them an act of hateful propaganda. In truth, keeping them faceless is what actually serves that purpose.



Çetin Topçuoglu, 54. Necdet Yildirim, 32. Furkan Dogan, 19.

Ibrahim Bilgen, 61. Fahri Yaldiz, 43. Cengiz Akyüz, 41.

Cevdet Kiliçlar, 38. Cengiz Songür, 47. Ali Haydar Bengi, 39.