In a city that has long served as a stage for the world's most contested truths, two Israeli filmmakers stood before an audience at Lincoln Center to defend a documentary that their own government has called an act of war. Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, Oscar winners both, premiered NAZA—a film built on the testimony of 24 soldiers describing AI-assisted targeting systems used to select Palestinian civilians for airstrikes in Gaza—while facing threats of citizenship revocation from Prime Minister Netanyahu. The film arrives at a moment when more than 73,000 Palestinians have been killed and th
NAZA filmmakers defend Gaza documentary amid Israeli threats to revoke citizenship
The documentary documents systemic killing of Palestinian civilians in Gaza, with over 73,000 Palestinians killed to date, declared genocide by international agencies including the UN.
These crimes are ongoing because it's what our country is doing
Mark
Why does Netanyahu compare a documentary to ballistic missiles? That seems like hyperbole.
Mimi
Because he's saying the film itself is a weapon—that it damages Israel's standing, its ability to operate without scrutiny. He's not speaking literally about explosives. He's saying the exposure is the threat.
Luke
But we should be precise about what the film actually contains. It's testimony from 24 Israeli soldiers and officers, anonymized. That's the evidence. We're not seeing classified documents or leaked files—we're hearing from people inside the system.
Mark
So the soldiers themselves are saying these systems exist and work this way?
Mimi
Yes. They're describing how the AI-powered targeting works, how the acronym NAZA is used to estimate civilian deaths before strikes happen. These are insiders talking about their own work.
Luke
And the reporting behind it was published over years in multiple outlets—Guardian, +972, Local Call. So this isn't a surprise document. The investigation was already public.
Mark
Then why is Netanyahu so threatened by the film specifically?
Mimi
Because film reaches people differently than text. It's the soldiers' voices, their faces obscured but their words direct. It's harder to dismiss or ignore. And it's being released globally, in 55 countries.
Luke
Also, the timing matters. This is an election season in Israel, and Netanyahu is running on his Gaza campaign. The film complicates that narrative.
Mark
What about the protesters outside? Are they wrong to invoke October 7?
Mimi
They're not wrong that October 7 happened and was devastating. But Abraham's point is that one atrocity doesn't justify another. You can hold both truths.
Luke
The harder question is whether the film itself addresses that balance fairly. We know Abraham acknowledged October 7 in the Q&A, but we'd need to see the film to know if it's integrated into the narrative or treated as separate.
Mark
And the citizenship threat—is that actually enforceable?
Luke
Netanyahu said he'd seek new legislation. So it's not law yet. It's a threat tied to a political promise. Whether it passes depends on Israeli politics, which are volatile.
O Pulso
- Israel's government has responded to the documentary not with rebuttal but with threat—Netanyahu promising legislation to strip the filmmakers of citizenship, the military vowing to use 'every tool at our disposal,' and protesters surrounding Szor's parents' home calling for the death penalty.
- The film's central revelation is bureaucratic and chilling: Israeli intelligence uses an acronym, NAZA, to calculate expected civilian deaths per airstrike, reducing mass casualties to a metric embedded in the architecture of targeting itself.
- Outside Lincoln Center, protesters circled with Israeli flags and a truck broadcasting accusations of propaganda; inside, Abraham and Szor addressed the room directly, refusing to let the October 7 massacre be used to close off moral reckoning for Gaza.
- The $3.8 billion in annual US military aid that funds these operations gives the New York premiere a specific gravity—Abraham told the audience that the soldiers on screen were describing strikes carried out with American taxpayer money.
- Despite legal jeopardy at home, the filmmakers have drawn support from over 1,500 Israeli film professionals, 43 human rights organizations, and international press freedom bodies, as the film prepares for a free global release in November.
In a city that has long served as a stage for the world's most contested truths, two Israeli filmmakers stood before an audience at Lincoln Center to defend a documentary that their own government has called an act of war. Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, Oscar winners both, premiered NAZA—a film built on the testimony of 24 soldiers describing AI-assisted targeting systems used to select Palestinian civilians for airstrikes in Gaza—while facing threats of citizenship revocation from Prime Minister Netanyahu. The film arrives at a moment when more than 73,000 Palestinians have been killed and the United Nations has declared the campaign a genocide, asking audiences in 55 countries to reckon with what is done in their name, with their money, in the dark.
Two filmmakers stood before a New York audience on Saturday to defend a documentary that has made them targets in their own country. Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor premiered NAZA at Lincoln Center while facing Israeli government threats to revoke their citizenship—the price, apparently, of making a film about how Israel kills civilians in Gaza.
NAZA runs 80 minutes and centers on testimony from 24 Israeli soldiers and intelligence officers who describe the surveillance and remote killing operations they participated in. The film's title is itself an intelligence acronym used to estimate civilian deaths per airstrike—a euphemism embedded in the machinery of mass casualty. Strikes typically occur at night, in homes, killing entire families. More than 73,000 Palestinians have been killed to date; the United Nations has declared the campaign a genocide.
The film premiered at Venice earlier this month to a 25-minute standing ovation—a festival record—and won the special jury prize. In Israel, the response was ferocious. Netanyahu called the documentary equivalent to launching ballistic missiles at his country and promised legislation to strip the filmmakers of citizenship. The culture minister accused them of treason. Rightwing activists surrounded Szor's parents' home; one protester called for the death penalty.
Inside Lincoln Center, Abraham and Szor spoke without flinching. Szor described her government's effort to hide these systems from its own public. Abraham insisted the crimes are ongoing, not historical, and defended the use of anonymous sources as the only way such a film could be made. He acknowledged the October 7 Hamas attacks that killed 1,200 Israelis as completely unjustified—then refused the binary his critics demanded. Palestinian civilian deaths, he said, are not made acceptable by Israeli suffering, and leaders like Netanyahu exploit that suffering to foreclose empathy and perpetuate war.
The New York premiere carried particular weight because the United States provides Israel $3.8 billion in military aid each year. Abraham told the audience plainly: the operations described in the film were conducted with American taxpayer money. NAZA releases in 55 countries next month and freely online in November. More than 1,500 Israeli film professionals and 43 human rights organizations have defended the filmmakers—but Abraham and Szor remain in legal jeopardy in the country they call home.
Two filmmakers stood before an audience in New York on Saturday evening to defend a documentary that has made them targets in their own country. Yuval Abraham and Rachel Szor, both Oscar winners, premiered NAZA at Lincoln Center amid Israeli government threats to strip them of citizenship—a consequence they face for making a film about how their country kills civilians.
NAZA is an 80-minute investigation into Israel's targeting systems in Gaza. The film draws on reporting published between 2023 and 2025 in the Guardian, +972 Magazine, and Local Call, and it centers on testimony from 24 Israeli soldiers and intelligence officers who agreed to speak anonymously about the surveillance and remote killing operations they participated in. The film's title itself is an acronym used by Israeli intelligence to estimate civilian deaths in a single airstrike—a euphemism for mass casualty. These strikes often occur at night, in homes, killing entire families at once. More than 73,000 Palestinians have been killed in Gaza to date, and the United Nations has declared the campaign a genocide.
The documentary premiered at Venice earlier this month, where it received a 25-minute standing ovation—a festival record—and won the special jury prize. But in Israel, the response has been ferocious. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has promised legislation to revoke Abraham and Szor's citizenship, calling the film equivalent to "launching dozens of ballistic missiles" at Israel. Culture Minister Miki Zohar accused them of treason. The military's chief of staff said the IDF would use "every tool at our disposal" against them. Rightwing activists have escalated further: earlier this month, dozens of protesters surrounded Szor's parents' home, with one calling for the "death penalty for traitors."
At the New York premiere, protesters gathered outside Lincoln Center with Israeli flags and signs. A truck with LED screens circled the theater calling NAZA "propaganda dressed up as a documentary." Inside, Abraham and Szor addressed the room directly. Szor spoke of her country's determination to hide these systems from its own public. Abraham said the crimes documented in the film are ongoing—not historical, but current. He defended the use of anonymous sources as standard investigative practice, necessary because the Israeli state works to conceal these operations. "This film could not have been made any other way," he said, "and because the crimes are ongoing, we felt that it was important to make it."
Abraham also addressed the protesters' invocation of the October 7, 2023 Hamas attacks, which killed 1,200 Israelis. He acknowledged the massacre as "completely unjustified." But he refused the binary the protesters offered. "It doesn't justify the slaughter of so many civilians in Gaza," he said. He spoke against what he called the weaponization of Israeli suffering—the way leaders like Netanyahu use rightful empathy for Israeli victims to foreclose empathy for Palestinians, to justify perpetual occupation and war.
The New York premiere carried particular weight because the United States provides Israel with $3.8 billion in military aid annually. Abraham made this explicit to the audience: the soldiers in the film were describing operations conducted with American taxpayer money. The documentary is set to release in 55 countries next month, followed by a free global release on the Guardian's website in November. Despite the threats and the protests, more than 1,500 Israeli film professionals, 43 Israeli human rights organizations, and major international film festivals have defended the filmmakers. International press freedom organizations have done the same. The film, in other words, has found defenders—but Abraham and Szor remain in legal jeopardy in the country where they live and work.
Citações Notáveis
Our country is doing so much to hide these systems. It's not a world that is open even to the Israeli public.— Rachel Szor, co-director, at New York premiere Q&A
These crimes that you saw are ongoing. They're ongoing because it's what our country is doing, and because of what your country is supporting and funding.— Yuval Abraham, co-director, at New York premiere Q&A
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Leia o original em The Guardian ↗