In Israel, there's an iron-clad rule that always prevails: the less you know, the better off you are. Over the past year, this concealment of information has extended beyond the security establishment, which has always hidden behind security considerations, to include the media – the very institution meant to uncover reliable information for the public. Few have succeeded in exposing truth in this country. Those brave enough to challenge the establishment rarely received recognition or sympathy. But public humiliation wasn't their only reward – almost all faced judicial retaliation, as the system knows exactly who needs to be silenced.
Take Rabbi Uzi Meshulam, who in the 90s exposed the disappearance of Yemenite, Middle Eastern, and Balkan children: he was imprisoned for six and a half years and died shortly after his release, ill and frail. To this day, his son claims persecution by security agencies. Similarly, Rafi Rotem, a former investigator at the Tax Authority's national customs and VAT investigations unit, faced years of legal persecution after exposing corruption within the system. In 2017, the UN Security Council even included him on its list of whistleblowers persecuted by law enforcement agencies.
Methods of information suppression have evolved over time. While strong censorship and tacit agreements between media outlets and security agencies once prevailed, today's censorship operates minimally but selectively. Security considerations and public interest likely aren't always at the heart of these decisions. The publication bans issued by the judicial system are equally selective and often appear arbitrary – but they're not. Many allow the dissemination of specific, partial information, usually sufficient to create the desired narrative. Media outlets interpret this information and spread the narrative. Sometimes they even create it.
Humans cannot process vast amounts of information simultaneously, even when it's accurate. That's a biological fact. When some information is false, the situation worsens. It becomes nearly impossible to distinguish facts from unnecessary words, gossip, inventions, and interpretations. And that appears to be the point.
Today, the method of concealing information is, paradoxically, to deliberately flood public discourse with excessive information. Consider the five recent cases involving the Prime Minister's Office, released simultaneously – officially, according to all official sources, no investigation involves the prime minister himself. Yet the narrative suggests that Netanyahu controls a network aimed at influencing public consciousness in Israel and worldwide, or something to that effect. In reality, Eli Feldstein has been held in Shin Bet security agency facilities for almost three weeks without access to a lawyer. According to Channel 12's crime reporter Branu Tegene, there's a clear attempt to turn him into a state witness. Tegene also noted that while the judge declared Feldstein's investigation complete, he remains under questioning.
It seems that through intimidation and undemocratic means, a narrative can be imposed on reality. A dramatic lead story published earlier this week by Ronen Bergman in Yedioth Ahronoth and Ynet presents an overwhelming amount of information, mostly irrelevant, only to conclude that Netanyahu's office received "substantial intelligence" the night before Oct. 7. While the IDF's investigation isn't complete and is still being finalized, Bergman, citing it, already knows the bottom line.
This information blur aims to blame the prime minister exclusively, but in practice, this amorphous report only raises additional questions about the security establishment's failure. If there were so many warning signs, why weren't Golani soldiers awakened? Why wasn't the Nova festival dispersed? Why did senior military officials decide to sleep and reconvene only at 8:00 a.m.?
Unfortunately, one of the main ways to cope with information overload is acquiescence. We end up accepting things we don't truly agree with just to stop the noise.
