The Power of an Image

On Friday, July 25^th, the New York Times printed an emotionally gripping photo of an 18- month-old emaciated Gazan child, every bone of his spinal cord showing through his frail, paper-like, skin. The implicit allegation was that Israel is deliberately starving children. The problem was that this child was born with a pre-existing congenital defect, cerebral palsy. The photo’s original caption says, “He was born healthy.”

The New York Times claims to reach 100 million people.

Within hours, almost every major outlet was using the image to tell the same story. Sky News, CNN, The Guardian, Daily Mail, New York Times, and The Times (UK)  – they all ran with it, reinforcing the message: Gaza is gripped by mass starvation, Israel is the culpable party, and this image is the proof.

Five days later, after that impression had been cemented into the minds of millions of people, The New York Times issued a scarcely read tweet, or “Editor’s Note” saying “Children is Gaza are malnourished and starving, as New York Times reporters and others have documented. They then proceed to recount how “We have since learned new information about the child”, Mohammed Zakaria al-Mutawaq, “including from the hospital that treated him and his medical records, and have updated our story to add context about is pre-existing health problem.” They then proceed to gloat about how “Our reporters and photographers continue to report from Gaza, bravely, sensitively, and at personal risk, so that the readers can see firsthand the consequences of war.”

Their X-Tweet claims to teach 89 thousand people.

Let’s investigate further “the consequences of war.” Who invaded their homes, murdered 1200 people, including 378 young people attending the Nova music festival,  burned entire communities in Kibbutz Be’er, Kibbutz Nir Oz, Netiv HaAsara, Kfar Aza and Holit families, murdered entire families, including  children, raped men and women, and took over 250 hostages?

It is well known that it was Hamas. It was the Al Qassam Brigades. It was Palestinian Islamic Jihad. It was the Palestinian Resistance Committees, through the Al Nasser Saleh al Deen Brigades. It was the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine. It was the Al-Aqsa Martyrs’ Brigades. It was the Mujahadeen Brigades. It was the Al-Ansar Brigades.

Was there anyone left?

Why are the photos of Hamas commandeering trucks of aid not been shown on the front pages of the New York Times, shooting rifles in the air, not caring enough about the lives of their own to see where their bullets land? Is life to Hamas so meaningless?

Why were Gazans on the streets applauding as raped and barely alive hostages were dragged through the streets on October 7^th?

Let’s talk about at least one of those hostages: 23 year old Evyatar David. His frame is so emaciated you can see every single bone through it. He has been alone, starving, for 267 days, in a miserable, dark, dank tunnel. Why does the New York Times not run his photo on the front page?

The power of the media to shape perception, for better or for worse, cannot be underestimated; a single image or headline, stripped of context, can ignite outrage, inflame bias, or evoke misplaced sympathy. Corrections and clarifications, though necessary, often arrive too late—overshadowed by the emotional resonance of the initial narrative.

What, then, are the true consequences of war? They are measured not only in shattered lives and grieving families, but in the erosion of truth itself. When stories are told in fragments, when facts are blurred by urgency or agenda, entire peoples are reduced to caricatures, and the hope for understanding recedes ever further. The people of Gaza, Israel, and all those caught in the crossfire, pay the real price—stripped not just of safety and dignity, but of the full telling of their stories.

The ramifications of these images are as devastating as they are eternal. They are having a lasting impact on voters.

It is incumbent upon all who bear witness—journalists, readers, and leaders alike—to seek out the tangled realities beneath the surface, to honor the nuance, and to remember that every statistic and story hides a human soul longing for a normal life.

Sarah N. Stern is Founder and President of EMET.