Israeli Documentary ‘Naza’ Exposes Military Secrets at Venice Film Festival

According to the International Desk of Webangah News Agency, the documentary ‘Naza,’ directed by Israeli filmmakers Yuval Abraham and Rachel Sor, has transformed from a cinematic work into a subject of widespread media and political debate following its world premiere at the 83rd Venice Film Festival. This 80-minute film, the result of approximately three years of clandestine work by its creators, tackles a subject rarely narrated from the internal perspective of the Israeli military structure.

The significance of ‘Naza’ extends beyond its subject matter. The film strives to construct its narrative through individuals who previously served within the Israeli military and intelligence apparatus. Consequently, a substantial portion of the controversy surrounding it relates to the sources of these testimonies and how the filmmakers gained access to these individuals. This approach has positioned ‘Naza’ as a work that transcends mere film criticism or a portrayal of the Gaza conflict, extending into questions about Tel Aviv’s official narratives regarding its military operations.

‘Naza’ Presents a Somber Account of Deaths Reduced to Numbers in Gaza

‘Naza’ brings the camera to those on the receiving end of the attacks to narrate events in Gaza. It features 24 Israeli military and intelligence personnel who were involved in aspects of target identification and military operations. Over roughly three years, Abraham and Sor conducted secret interviews to access a layer of warfare typically unseen amidst the devastation and casualty figures. This layer involves decisions made prior to an attack regarding the target, available intelligence, the presence of individuals, and the potential consequences of the operation.

The name ‘Naza’ itself derives from this military logic. ‘Naza’ is a shortened form of the Hebrew phrase ‘Nezek Agavi’ (נזק אגבי), meaning ‘collateral damage’ or ‘incidental casualties.’ This term is used in Israeli military parlance to refer to the estimated number of civilians likely to be killed in an attack.

The choice of this name encapsulates a significant portion of the film’s meaning. In this lexicon, the deaths of individuals killed in military strikes are initially quantified as a calculable number entering the decision-making process. Thus, ‘Naza’ is not merely the title of a documentary but a concept through which the film illustrates the distance between the technical language of military operations and the reality of civilian deaths.

The testimonies presented in the film suggest that this process is accompanied by an extensive network of intelligence and surveillance tools. The documentary’s sources speak of the use of mobile phone data, communication intercepts, and artificial intelligence systems for identifying individuals and designating targets. These technologies provide the military structure with vast amounts of information, enabling the tracking of individuals. Central to the film’s narrative is the artificial intelligence system ‘Lavender,’ employed to identify individuals suspected of Hamas affiliation. According to film sources, this system identified potential targets based on extensive data processing.

The importance of this narrative is amplified when the families of targeted individuals are considered. Some of the film’s sources recount instances where military personnel were aware of the presence of other individuals at a location, yet the operation proceeded within the established targeting framework.

One interviewee even described an attack for which the authorization was granted despite an estimated 500 civilian casualties. This narrative indicates that the issue is not solely about the use of a specific technology or operation. ‘Naza’ demonstrates how technology, intelligence, and casualty estimations can converge into a single chain, transforming civilian deaths from a post-attack consequence into a variable calculated before an attack.

25-Minute Standing Ovation Against Israel’s Official Narrative in Gaza

‘Naza’ premiered at the 83rd Venice Film Festival not merely as another film in the competition. It was the sole documentary in the festival’s main competition, and its screening on September 10th (September 19th) quickly influenced the festival’s atmosphere. The significance of ‘Naza”s presence was further heightened by a film directly addressing the Gaza war, made by two Israeli filmmakers, being shown to an international audience at one of the world’s most prominent cinematic events.

The audience’s reaction following the screening was the first indication of the film becoming one of the most talked-about events in Venice. Attendees applauded the filmmakers for approximately 25 minutes—an ovation reported as the longest in the history of the Venice Film Festival, surpassing the reception for ‘About Dry Grasses’ in the previous edition. During this ovation, some audience members waved Palestinian and Lebanese flags, elevating the film’s screening beyond a mere cinematic event.

With this reception, ‘Naza’ immediately became a focal point of media attention in Venice. Even before the awards ceremony, its name was mentioned in speculations for the festival’s top prize. Ultimately, on September 12th (September 21st), the jury, presided over by Maggie Gyllenhaal, awarded ‘Naza’ the Special Jury Prize. This award elevated the film from a controversial documentary to a distinguished work within the official competition of one of the world’s foremost film festivals.

The significance of this achievement was not limited to a single award; it also expanded the film’s international trajectory. ‘Naza’ is slated for its North American premiere at the 64th New York Film Festival on September 26th and 27th (October 4th and 5th). The film’s participation in New York, following its success in Venice, extends its audience reach to another major global cinematic hub, indicating that the film’s narrative is not confined to the boundaries of the Venice Film Festival.

Israeli Regime Officials Express Alarm Over ‘Naza’ Narrative

Following the film’s success in Venice, the Israeli regime’s reaction to ‘Naza’ quickly moved beyond cinematic critique. Miki Zohar, Israel’s so-called Minister of Culture, accused Abraham and Sor of ‘betraying the country’ and threatened to revoke their citizenship. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu also attacked the film and its creators. Concurrently, the Chief of Staff of the Army, Eyal Zamir, ordered a legal review and investigation into the potential disclosure of classified information during the film’s production.

Notably, Tel Aviv’s focus was not solely on refuting the documentary’s content but also on the source of the narratives and the filmmakers’ methods of acquiring information. When the army initiates a security review of the sources and information used in a cinematic work, and a political figure speaks of revoking citizenship for its creators, it signifies that ‘Naza’ is no longer merely facing a dispute over a film. The very possibility of narratives emerging from within the military structure has become part of the controversy. This is occurring despite the support for the filmmakers from over 1,500 Israeli filmmakers and 43 human rights organizations within the country, who have stood against the threats.

From this perspective, the ‘Naza’ controversy exposes a significant divide—the gap between the official narrative of the Israeli regime’s military operations and the accounts of individuals who insist they were privy to the mechanisms of targeting and decision-making regarding civilian casualties from within that same structure. The film’s importance lies precisely in this shift of narrative perspective. The issue is no longer solely about the images emerging from Gaza or the statistics on victims; it is about the testimonies of those who claim to have been present on the other side of this process. Consequently, the strong reaction to the film has unintentionally broadened the discussion from the veracity of a documentary to the larger issue of whether dissenting narratives can be heard during wartime.

Ultimately, ‘Naza’ is a technical and numerical concept within military language, but behind every number lies a human being who can no longer return or continue their life. Perhaps this is why the reaction to the film is more than just a response to an artistic work. ‘Naza’ has brought the debate over these questions to the public level: Who constructs the narrative of war? Who has the right to speak about deaths? And when should the numbers recorded in military calculations be accountable to the public for the lives they represent?