In the long and unresolved argument between states and their truth-tellers, Israel's Culture Minister Miki Zohar has threatened to strip two documentary filmmakers of their citizenship for a film that the world's most prestigious film festival received with its longest standing ovation in recorded history. Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, co-directors of 'NAZA' — a documentary on Israeli military operations in Gaza — now face the ancient charge of betrayal, leveled by a government that has not watched the work it condemns. The episode asks a question that no nation has ever fully answered: wheth
Israeli Culture Minister Threatens to Revoke Citizenship of 'NAZA' Documentary Directors
Denial of a crime is what helps it persist
So the Minister of Culture is threatening to revoke citizenship. That's a pretty extreme response to a documentary. What exactly did the film do to provoke this?
It documents Israeli military operations in Gaza and frames them as systematic killing of Palestinian civilians. It premiered at Venice to a standing ovation—24 and a half minutes, the longest in festival history. The jury gave it a special prize.
Wait—do we know what's actually in the film? The logline is one thing. Has the minister seen it?
Abraham said at Venice that Israeli politicians were attacking it without watching it. So probably not.
And the minister's argument is that making this film is a betrayal of Israel?
Yes. He called it "self-loathing" and said the directors were willing to harm their country for applause from what he called antisemitic audiences.
That's a characterization, not a fact. We should be clear about that.
What did Abraham say in response?
He defended the film as necessary—that Israelis especially need to see it, that denial of crimes allows them to persist. He also said American funding supports much of what the film documents.
So we have one side saying documentation is betrayal, and the other saying denial is what enables harm. Neither side is actually engaging with the other's argument.
Can the minister actually revoke their citizenship?
That's the open question. He said he would act immediately, but the legal mechanism and whether it's actually possible—that's unclear from what we have.
El Pulso
- Israel's Culture Minister has threatened to immediately revoke the citizenship of two filmmakers whose documentary on Gaza won a special jury prize at Venice — a punishment typically reserved for spies and traitors.
- Minister Zohar's accusation of 'self-loathing' and national betrayal arrived before he or other critics had seen the film, sharpening the charge that the government is punishing documentation rather than disputing it.
- 'NAZA' received a 24-minute, 30-second standing ovation at Venice — the longest in the festival's history — creating a stark and public contrast between international reception and domestic political fury.
- Director Yuval Abraham used his award acceptance speech to call on Israelis, Europeans, and Americans to confront what the film shows, arguing that denial of documented atrocities is precisely what allows them to continue.
- The confrontation has crystallized into two irreconcilable positions: one holding that honest documentation serves the national interest, the other that such documentation is itself an act of war against the state.
In the long and unresolved argument between states and their truth-tellers, Israel's Culture Minister Miki Zohar has threatened to strip two documentary filmmakers of their citizenship for a film that the world's most prestigious film festival received with its longest standing ovation in recorded history. Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, co-directors of 'NAZA' — a documentary on Israeli military operations in Gaza — now face the ancient charge of betrayal, leveled by a government that has not watched the work it condemns. The episode asks a question that no nation has ever fully answered: whether loyalty to a state and loyalty to the truth it would rather not see can coexist.
Israel's Culture Minister Miki Zohar announced his intention to revoke the citizenship of documentary filmmakers Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, co-directors of 'NAZA,' a film that had just premiered at the Venice Film Festival to extraordinary international recognition. Zohar's statement was categorical: the filmmakers had betrayed their country, and he would act immediately.
The minister's language was personal and unsparing. He accused Abraham and Szor of 'self-loathing' and of sacrificing their country's reputation to win approval from what he described as antisemitic audiences abroad. The accusation of betrayal was the core of his argument — that making this film was not a political act but a crime against Israel itself.
'NAZA' documents what its makers describe as the systems behind Israel's mass killing of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. At Venice, it received a standing ovation lasting 24 minutes and 30 seconds — the longest in the festival's recorded history — and was awarded a special jury prize for its direction.
Accepting the award, Abraham addressed the storm directly. He noted the strangeness of being attacked by politicians and journalists who had not seen the film, and made a sustained case for why confronting documented reality matters — for Israelis, for Europeans, and for Americans whose government funds much of what the film records. His argument was simple: denial of what is documented allows it to continue.
The collision between the two positions exposed something older than this particular film or this particular minister — a fundamental disagreement about what citizens owe a state they believe is committing crimes, and whether bearing witness to those crimes is an act of loyalty or its opposite.
Miki Zohar, Israel's Minister of Culture, announced his intention to strip two documentary filmmakers of their Israeli citizenship. The targets were Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, co-directors of a film called "NAZA" that had just premiered at the Venice Film Festival to significant international recognition. Zohar's statement was unambiguous: he called the work a betrayal of the state and promised immediate action to revoke their citizenship.
The minister's language was sharp and personal. He wrote that the filmmakers were consumed by "self-loathing" and willing to damage their own country simply to win approval from what he characterized as antisemitic audiences abroad. The accusation of betrayal was central to his argument—that by making this film, Abraham and Szor had committed an act against Israel itself.
"NAZA" documents what its official description calls "the systems behind Israel's calculated mass killing of Palestinian civilians in Gaza." The film had arrived at Venice to substantial critical response. When it premiered, the audience gave it a standing ovation that lasted 24 minutes and 30 seconds—the longest in the festival's recorded history. The festival's jury awarded the film a special prize for its direction.
When Abraham took the stage to accept the award, he addressed the controversy directly. He noted the difficulty of standing before the world while Israeli politicians and journalists attacked the film without having watched it. He spoke about the importance of confronting reality rather than denying it, and he made a case for why the film mattered beyond Israel's borders. He called on Israelis to see it, on Europeans to see it—particularly those in Italy and Germany, whose governments he said were blocking international pressure on Israel. He also called on Americans to watch, pointing out that American funding underwrites much of what the film documents.
The threat from Zohar represented a sharp escalation in the political response to the documentary. Abraham's defense at Venice had been measured and substantive, grounded in the argument that denial of documented events allows those events to continue. The minister's response was categorical: the film was not merely wrong or misguided, but an act of national betrayal worthy of stripping citizenship—a penalty typically reserved for acts of espionage or renunciation.
The collision between the two positions—one arguing that documentation and confrontation of difficult truths serve the national interest, the other that such documentation itself constitutes betrayal—laid bare a fundamental disagreement about what loyalty to a state means, and what citizens owe their government when they believe that government is committing crimes.
Citas Notables
The self-loathing that burns in the creators, who are willing to harm their homeland just to get applause from antisemites around the world, is inconceivable and constitutes a betrayal of the state.— Minister Miki Zohar
We believe that the denial of a crime is what helps it persist, and that's why it's especially important for us that Israelis watch this film.— Director Yuval Abraham, accepting the award at Venice