Jaipur Literature Fest 2026 | Noa Avishag Schnall on documenting Gaza, trauma, and the human cost of war

When Noa Avishag Schnall speaks about reporting from Gaza, she is careful about where she places herself in the story. "I think it's important to remind myself that I'm not at the centre of it," she says. "I'm not the centre of the crisis."

Speaking on the sidelines of the Jaipur Literature Festival, the US-born, Paris-based Yemeni Jewish journalist, photographer, and human rights documentarian stresses that language matters, not just in how stories are told, but in how events are named. "Crisis is not the right word for it," she says. "It's genocide in Gaza."

Schnall has spent years reporting from zones of conflict and oppression, covering war, displacement, and human rights violations across continents. Most recently, she was reporting aboard 'The Conscience', a vessel affiliated with the Freedom Flotilla Coalition that was attempting to reach Gaza with aid. Israeli authorities detained the ship in international waters. Schnall was arrested, later released, and deported. In a video shared online following her detention, she appeared visibly injured and described what she alleged occurred while in custody.

Israeli authorities have not publicly responded to these specific allegations. Schnall has maintained that her role aboard the flotilla was journalistic, documenting events as they unfolded.

For her, journalism is most effective when it resists distancing language and begins instead with a single life. "One of the ways journalism can be successful is to tell a larger story through one access point," she explains. "You focus on one story — an individual, a family, a person — to give people a window into a larger experience."

Statistics alone, she argues, rarely convey the scale of loss. "If you just say X amount of people were murdered, that doesn’t have the same impact as saying this happened to this family, this child froze to death, and let me tell you about this child."

Asked about the role of literary festivals, Schnall is unequivocal that they are not merely celebratory spaces. Platforms like JLF matter, she says, because they allow conversations to unfold beyond the constraints of breaking news.
"Events like this bring together people who may not otherwise encounter these stories," she says. "And that matters."

Covering war zones leaves a lasting emotional imprint, Schnall acknowledges. Yet she insists on the importance of perspective. "We’re the ones who get to leave. That’s a privilege," she says. "I was detained, but I got to leave. Palestinians are there for an indeterminate amount of time."

Detachment, she believes, has limits. "The moment you lose empathy, you lose your humanness," she says. "And then don’t do this job." At the same time, she acknowledges the need for emotional armour. "If I allowed myself, I would collapse in tears," she admits. "But if you did that, you wouldn’t be able to report." The work, she says, lies in holding both truths at once.

What sustains journalists in the face of uncertainty and loss? "Journalism is a calling," Schnall says. "You do it because you feel obligated to tell stories, to elevate other stories, to be involved in the process of seeking justice."

She believes storytellers play a crucial role in how history is remembered.
"History belongs to the victors," she says. "Our job is to offer a profile of what’s happening among the average population."

Also Read: ‘I just liked writing’: How Kunzang Choden brought Bhutan’s oral folklore to the world