Israel Lost the Narrative—and Its Moral Voice

I’ve spent my career in politics, public relations, and crisis management — guiding clients through intense scrutiny and reputational crisis. I’ve helped lead high-stakes political campaigns across the country. If there’s one lesson I’ve learned, it’s this: in a crisis, storytelling is everything. Words can be as powerful as weapons.

That’s why, as someone who deeply supports Israel, I’ve been disheartened —  not by Israel’s military response, which was necessary — but by how poorly the war has been communicated, allowing Hamas to control the narrative from the start. 

Two recent New York Times columns debated whether Israel is committing genocide. Legal scholars are weighing in. But that’s exactly the trap. It’s not about legal definitions — it’s psychological warfare. Hamas doesn’t need to win militarily. They win if the world forgets Oct. 7 and starts arguing about genocide.

And Israel let that happen.

Instead of leading with moral clarity and strategic communication, Israel surrendered the narrative—and Hamas filled the vacuum with lies and blood-soaked propaganda. Oct. 7 was a military and intelligence failure. Oct. 8 was something more enduring: a communications collapse that still haunts Israel — and Jews around the world.

Instead of leading with moral clarity and strategic communication, Israel surrendered the narrative — and Hamas filled the vacuum with lies and blood-soaked propaganda. 

After Hamas’ unspeakable massacre — the rape of women, the burning of families, the kidnapping of babies — there was a moment of global clarity. Even Israel’s harshest critics fell silent.

But that moment vanished almost instantly. As the documentary “October 8” points out, highly coordinated campus protests erupted within hours — not in response to Israeli military action, but in the immediate aftermath of Hamas’ atrocities. Social media lit the match. Slogans like “From the river to the sea” became viral weapons.

Jewish students — some simply wearing a Star of David — were harassed before a single Israeli airstrike. The narrative flipped with terrifying speed: Israel was no longer the victim of terror, but the oppressor of an occupied people. Terms like “apartheid,” “colonizer” and “genocide” replaced law, fact and context. 

Hamas’ strategy was clear. It diverted international aid away from hospitals and schools into the terrorist organization’s vast underground tunnel empire. It launched rockets from residential neighborhoods. It stored weapons in mosques and kindergartens. It placed command centers beneath hospitals. Hamas built bunkers for fighters, not shelters for civilians. And it knew how the world would react when the IDF was forced to cut through civilians to get to the Hamas terrorists and their innocent Israeli captives.

Israel should have exposed this. Instead, it reinforced the perception. Rather than visibly taking control of humanitarian efforts, it issued evacuation orders with no plan for optics. Israel allowed the world to see only suffering — not the strategy behind it.

This is where rhetoric matters as much as rockets. The best wartime leaders are both bold and reluctant — bold in resolve, reluctant in tone. Think of FDR on Dec. 8, 1941: resolute, but not bloodthirsty. Imagine if Netanyahu had said, “No soldier wants to attack a city. But Hamas put us in this position.” That’s how you frame strength with empathy.

Instead, Netanyahu led with defiance. And Hamas — the world’s most cynical storytellers — filled the void with grief and rage.

Israel has recently taken steps to allow more humanitarian aid into Gaza. That’s a start. But it’s not just about getting trucks through a checkpoint. It’s about showing the world that Israel leads not only in warfighting but in decency. Humanitarian gestures matter more when they’re seen, not just announced.

Even though no wartime military in history has ever provided aid to the enemy it was concurrently fighting, Israel could have established safe zones from the beginning and not left this in the hands of Egypt or the U.N. Let the world see Israeli soldiers carrying food and water, not just rifles. Own the humanitarian narrative and expose the tunnels. Show, don’t just tell. 

In today’s world, legitimacy isn’t a luxury — it’s a weapon. And Israel gave it up far too easily.

Instead of defining the story, Israel let Hamas provoke a global argument over genocide. As Ezra Klein recently wrote in The New York Times, the deeper fracture isn’t just between Israel and the world — it’s within the Jewish community itself.

This isn’t just a professional critique. It’s a personal cry.

As a Jewish father and son, I see the images of starving children in Gaza and feel deep sorrow. Not because I believe Hamas is blameless — they’re not. They are monsters. But because in those emaciated frames, I see echoes of our past. The ghosts of our ancestors. The children who didn’t survive.

When we see such suffering and don’t ask what more we could have done to prevent or reduce it, we lose something deeper than a news cycle. We lose a piece of our Jewishness. Of our moral inheritance.

Pirkei Avot asks: “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? But if I am only for myself, what am I?”

This war has tested that balance. And too often, we’re failing the second half.

This isn’t just a PR crisis. It’s a Jewish one. And it demands moral leadership — not just military might.

John Shallman is an award-winning political media consultant and crisis management expert and President of Shallman Communications in Los Angeles. Mr. Shallman is the author of the national best-selling book, “Return from Siberia.”