Palestinian women are not absent from the violence of war, but they are made absent in the way Western media frames them. Judith Butler’s idea of grievability shows how some lives are mourned and humanised, while others are rendered voiceless.
In Judith Butler’s Frames of War she asks the question: “When is life grievable?”
The book highlights that in contemporary wars, there are often modes of regulating ethical dispositions through a framing of violence.
Simply put, what deaths are seen as tragedies worth mourning?
As we continue every day to see victims of genocide within Palestine, it is important to ask, are they considered grievable in global media narratives?
How is survival weaponised?
In March 2025, the UN Commission of Inquiry reported repeated attacks on reproductive health infrastructure. Among these was Gaza’s main IVF clinic and thousands of maternity wards, which massively impacted maternal care offered in Gaza.
The inquiry also reported that this was done with genocidal intent, and not accidentally.
Right now, as we read this, women in Gaza are forced to give birth in hospitals that are lit only by torches, or in tents, set up by doctors who have no access to the resources needed for a successful childbirth.
As a result, many women give birth with no idea whether they and their child will live or survive.
A mother of seven in Gaza told Save the Children about her experience giving birth.
“I gave birth to my baby in a tent. My daughter came out so small, underweight, and I couldn’t get her adequate care. It was hard, hospitals were full. I didn’t have a cot, so my husband would find empty boxes, put them on top of each other, and we’d lay her there so she’s not sleeping on the floor”.
In addition, it was reported in April 2025, that the number of miscarriages had a 300% increase in Gaza, and that more babies are being born premature and underweight.
For women in Palestine, just surviving is weaponised.
This is referred to as ‘necropolitics’ and describes the exercise of power through death. States and the forces that occupy them decide not only who dies, but also who lives.
They also decide who lives in conditions that make life unlivable. In Palestine, the blockades and systemic collapse of healthcare systems that are vital for women highlight this logic.
The hierarchy of grievability
In July 2025, displaced Palestinian woman Fatima Arfa spoke about the reality of being a pregnant woman in Gaza.
“I’m coming from a faraway place, and on foot too, because I need to have a blood transfusion because of a very big deficiency, malnutrition.”
The stories from Palestinian women are always deeply harrowing, and yet we don’t see the same coverage compared to women in other political war zones.
The Al Jazeera Media Institute produced a journalism review, where they highlighted that Western outlets fail to humanise Palestinian women when reporting about the atrocities they face.
In addition, there has been criticism comparing the coverage of Ukrainian refugees, compared to those from Palestine.
The difference is that Ukrainian women are white and European, therefore, are afforded the capability to have real lived experiences, with families, friends, professions, and hardships. On the other hand, Palestinian women are brown, and overwhelmingly muslim; therefore, we don’t give them the same autonomy as we do not view them as ‘equal’.
This selective empathy is what Judith Butler calls the hierarchy of grievability. Some lives are made visible to us, encouraging us to grieve and be outraged, whereas others are depersonalised, forcing us to look away.
Women in Palestine are positioned as survivors in a distant conflict, rather than victims of a genocide.
We should be concerned, and we should be questioning why Israeli forces would target hospitals and stop aid to expecting mothers, but many don’t because it’s hidden in plain sight to us. Normalising these actions makes us desensitised and unbothered by what goes on in Gaza and the West Bank.
The absence of Palestinian women’s voices in international reporting is not accidental. It falls directly into necropolitical logic and reiterates that some lives are valuable and some aren’t.
How do we see Palestinian women?
When Palestinian women are shown by Western media, they are often boxed into an archetype of a grieving mother.
This takes away the humanity of women as individual people with complex lives and needs, instead reducing them to a symbol.
This reflects deeper narratives in mainstream media, and it’s important that journalists raise awareness and question why women are only deemed worthy of a voice and of a place in media if they fit into a certain box.
As a feminist, it’s important to recognise the struggles of all women, not just those who are presented to us in the media.
The media constantly highlights women’s sexuality and emotions, and if not, the focus is on romantic partners or children.
We should advocate for the representation of women in Palestine, as women with autonomy and lived experiences, rather than just mothers of children.
What happens now?
Opposing oppression is a feminist act, and solidarity must go beyond what is presented in mainstream media.
To be a feminist, we must continue to look beyond what is presented to us. Palestinian women are not seen as the same ‘women’ as Western ‘women’. They are treated as a subclass and reduced to trauma and violence as their voices and stories are sidelined and deprioritised.
Palestinian women don’t get to exist in the eyes of Western feminists in their lived experiences and their humanity. Instead, we accept what is malleable and use them only to symbolise the suffering that is taking place in Gaza.
We must amplify Palestinian women’s voices, and let them tell their stories with no need to make it digestible for the rest of the world; genocide is not digestible.
Recognising Palestinian women, not as faraway symbols of conflict, but as women whose lives, stories and individuality matter, seems a good place to start.
For more information, or anyone who wants to help, please see our guide here.
