Genocide doesn’t begin with bullets or bombs — it begins with words. Before a single act of mass killing occurs, societies are prepared through propaganda and dehumanization, two powerful tools that shape how people see each other. These tools pave the way for atrocities by convincing the dominant group that the targeted people are dangerous, inferior, or even less than human. In the case of the Israeli genocide against Palestinians, these strategies have played a central role in normalizing violence, silencing dissent, and justifying policies that have led to widespread suffering and death.

Propaganda is the deliberate spread of biased or misleading information to influence public opinion. In the lead-up to any genocide, propaganda is used to create fear, justify discrimination, and rally people around a false sense of moral or national superiority. It creates a narrative that frames the targeted group not just as a problem, but as an existential threat. Once that narrative takes hold, ordinary people may come to accept — sometimes even support — extreme measures that would otherwise be unthinkable.

In the context of Israel, the use of propaganda has been consistent and systematic. Palestinian resistance is almost always portrayed in Israeli and Western media as “terrorism,” regardless of whether it is violent or nonviolent. Entire populations are blamed for the actions of a few. The word “Hamas” is frequently used as a stand-in for all Palestinians in Gaza, despite the fact that nearly half the population are children and most have no connection to armed groups. By conflating civilians with militants, propaganda makes it easier to justify military attacks that kill thousands of innocents.

This propaganda isn’t limited to television or newspapers. It seeps into education, politics, and public discourse. In Israeli textbooks, for instance, Palestinians are often omitted or misrepresented. Political leaders use terms like “human animals,” “terror nests,” or “infestation” to describe Gaza and its people. These aren’t just careless insults — they are part of a broader strategy of dehumanization, which is the process of stripping a group of their humanity in the eyes of others.

Dehumanization is one of the most dangerous forces in society. Once a group is no longer seen as fully human, the usual moral boundaries disappear. Killing them is no longer seen as murder — it becomes a form of cleansing, of protection, or even of justice. In Rwanda, Tutsis were called cockroaches. In the case of Palestine, Palestinians — especially those in Gaza — are frequently depicted as inherently violent, uncivilized, and unworthy of empathy. These portrayals make it easier to ignore or excuse the destruction of their homes, the deaths of their children, and the denial of their most basic human rights.

This kind of language doesn’t just influence public opinion — it shapes policy. When people are seen as less than human, governments can get away with doing things to them that would be unacceptable otherwise. In Gaza, Israel has imposed a blockade for nearly two decades, severely restricting access to food, clean water, electricity, and medical care. During military operations, entire apartment buildings, hospitals, and schools have been bombed. Tens of thousands have died. These actions are rationalized through the language of self-defence, even when the victims are overwhelmingly civilians. And because Palestinians have been so thoroughly dehumanized in public discourse, many people around the world accept these explanations without question.

Propaganda and dehumanization also play a role in the denial that follows genocide. By the time the killing begins, the groundwork has been laid so thoroughly that the dominant group sees itself as the real victim. Any attempt to criticize or question the violence is framed as betrayal or, in the case of Israel, antisemitism. This shuts down dialogue, discredits human rights advocacy, and allows the violence to continue unchecked.

Ultimately, propaganda and dehumanization are not just tools of war — they are tools of silence. They create a world where victims cannot speak, and where the rest of the world refuses to listen. Recognizing these tools for what they are is the first step in dismantling them. And in the face of genocide, silence is not neutral. It is complicity.