By any normal standard of journalism, Anas al-Sharif was no reporter. He was a soldier, a commander and a propagandist in the service of one of the world’s most brutal terrorist organizations. Yet much of the international media has rushed to portray him as a courageous truth-teller cut down by the Israeli military, a man who “showed the world the reality of Gaza.”
The “reality” he championed was not the reality of Hamas’s iron grip over its people, the theft of humanitarian aid or the cynical use of civilians as human shields. His Gaza was the fantasy of a righteous struggle against an invented Israeli cruelty. He viewed the Strip through the black lens of antisemitic hatred and he urged others to do the same.
We know exactly where al-Sharif stood on Oct. 7, 2023. During Hamas’s mass slaughter—while women were being raped, children executed and entire families burned alive—he wrote with glee: “Nine hours and the heroes are still conquering the country, killing and capturing. Oh Allah! How great you are!”
This was no passive observer. Before the IDF targeted him, Israeli intelligence had compiled extensive evidence: al Sharif was the commander of Hamas’s missile battalion in eastern Jabaliah, directly responsible for rocket fire on Israeli civilians and military forces. His role was so central that he appears in affectionate selfies with Hamas leaders Yahya Sinwar and Khalil al-Hayya, even receiving a kiss from the man who masterminded the Oct. 7 massacre.
Photographs also place him on the battlefield during the invasion, celebrating with Hamas operatives as they seized an Israeli tank. He was a full participant in the Nukhba raid on Israel. Like several other so-called journalists, he did not merely report on the massacre; he helped carry it out.
And yet, he commanded an enormous online following: 564,000 on X and more than a million on Instagram. These were not simply fans of his “reporting.” They were consumers of Hamas propaganda, daily fed lies about Israeli “genocide” and “famine,” while Hamas diverted aid for its war effort.
If al-Sharif was a journalist, then this word and this profession have lost all meaning. His death is not the silencing of a press voice; it is the removal of a terrorist commander from the battlefield. That millions now mourn him as a reporter is a sad commentary on how deeply Hamas has infiltrated the world’s media narrative.
Journalism is supposed to hold power to account, not serve as a megaphone for mass murderers. Al-Sharif’s legacy is not one of truth-telling, but of bloodshed and deception. The fact that the international press cannot (or will not) say so tells us more about the state of journalism today than about the man himself.
