The film, which relies primarily on testimonies from within the Israeli military and security establishment, raises existential questions about the transformation of “collateral damage” from a passing military concept into an acceptable standard for killing civilians, supported by artificial intelligence systems and targeting algorithms that lack moral oversight.
The film derives its title from the Israeli military term “Nazza,” which is an abbreviation for “Collateral Damage,” but the film does not treat the term merely as a technical concept, but also strips it of its bureaucratic cover to reveal how the lives of Palestinian civilians were transformed into “arithmetical variables” within digital equations.
According to the filmmakers, the Israeli targeting system relies on massive amounts of data and artificial intelligence systems to identify targets. The ethical problem raised by the report does not lie in “individual mistakes” that a soldier may commit in the field, but rather in a “systemic structure” that allows military strikes to be carried out with prior knowledge of a high probability of civilian casualties, which transforms the issue from a passing violation into an institutional policy that requires leadership accountability.
The film did not go unnoticed in the Israeli media, as Haaretz newspaper devoted extensive analytical space to it, considering that what it presents goes far beyond exposing individual violations. In an editorial, the newspaper linked the film’s testimonies to previous investigations that revealed the way the army determines its targets, noting that the fundamental question is no longer: “Was there a military necessity for the strike?” Rather, it has shifted to: “What is the acceptable limit for civilian casualties?” Who has the right to determine this limit?
Haaretz believes that the attempt by directors Yuval Abraham and Rachel Tzur to examine the targeting system “from within” represents a rare precedent that breaks through the wall of silence and military secrecy that surrounds the bombing operations in Gaza.
The film is based on interviews with 24 people who served in Israeli intelligence and military units, including members of the elite unit “8200”. These testimonies provide a terrifying picture of “screen soldiers” who direct killing operations from behind computers, far from the direct battlefield, but part of the deadly decision chain.
The entire system is designed to empty the individual conscience of any feeling of guilt
This reality raises a new ethical and legal dilemma: with increasing reliance on algorithms to suggest goals, individual responsibility disappears. Who is responsible when a bomb falls on a house crowded with families? Was it the operator who pressed the button? Or the officer who signed the approval? Or the programmer who designed the algorithm? Or the leadership that established the permissive rules of engagement? The film implicitly answers that the entire system is designed to empty the individual conscience of any feeling of guilt.
In the face of this momentum, the Israeli army spokesman was quick to reject the accusations outright, arguing that the film relies on “anonymous” testimonies that cannot be verified, and that ordinary soldiers do not have the full strategic picture of targeting operations. The army also confirmed its adherence to international law and the existence of mechanisms for reporting violations.
However, this official response collides with the fact that concealing the identities of sources is a basic condition for protecting “whistleblowers” from military and judicial prosecution in Israel. For observers, the consistent style of the testimonies and the nature of the technical details contained in them give them credibility beyond the “unverifiable” argument that the military promotes to avoid independent investigation.
The controversy was not limited to the military corridors, but rather extended to the political and cultural battlefield. The film's directors were subjected to a fierce attack from officials in the Israeli right, to the extent of demanding that they be punished or that their citizenship be revoked, under the pretext that the film "stabs in the back of the army" and harms its war efforts.
On the other hand, prominent figures from the Israeli cultural and media community sided with the directors, warning that the attempt to silence this internal debate does not serve Israeli security, but rather reinforces international isolation and provides strong pretexts for prosecution before international courts (such as the International Criminal Court).
The real danger of the film "Naza" for the Israeli establishment is that it moves the discussion from the level of "the number of victims" (which can be justified by arguments of war) to the level of "how the decision to kill was made."
Regardless of the legal or media battles that Israel may wage to refute the details of the film, the mere presence of these voices from within the “Holy Jerusalem” of the military establishment is sufficient to shatter the myth of the “moral army.” The question that “NAZA” strongly imposes on Israeli and international public opinion is: Can Israel prove that technology and operational pressures have not actually led to “the devaluation of Palestinian life” in its military equations? The answer, so far, appears to be absent behind a wall of official denial and suspicious secrecy.
