I WELCOME the ongoing debate triggered by Filipino journalists who accepted a trip sponsored by the Israeli government.
For one thing, it has brought to the surface voices that I feel have been too muted in Philippine public discussion about Gaza—the immense suffering of Palestinians, allegations of grave violations of international law by Israel, and the extraordinary number of journalists who have themselves been killed while covering the conflict.
The Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) describes the period since October 2023 as the deadliest it has recorded for journalists. As of June 25, 2026, it documented 209 journalists and media workers killed by Israel in Gaza and Israeli detention centers, after revising its database to remove people subsequently found not to qualify.
Our media and our public debates have not given these issues enough sustained attention.
At the same time, I am uneasy with the tendency towards harshness in some of the criticisms directed at the journalists who joined the trip.
There is undoubtedly a legitimate ethical question here.
A basic principle of journalism is independence. Accepting travel paid for by a government—especially a government that is itself the subject of intense international scrutiny—creates at the very least an appearance of conflict of interest. It also raises the danger that journalists become part of a carefully managed government narrative.
So yes, we should ask:
Who paid for the trip?
What were the conditions?
How much freedom did the journalists have to report independently?
Was the sponsorship fully disclosed?
How did their news organizations deal with the potential conflict of interest?
And, most importantly, what did they report afterward?
But I would rather ask these questions than immediately branding the journalists as propagandists, traitors or devoid of integrity.
Criticize the decision. Scrutinize the journalism. Demand transparency. But leave room for dialogue and accountability.
There is an important distinction between saying, “You made a questionable ethical decision—please explain it,” and saying, “You are now an unethical journalist and therefore have nothing worth hearing.”
The first can strengthen journalism. The second may simply deepen our political camps.
There is another reason why I think dialogue matters.
If we believe that a government-sponsored trip can expose journalists to propaganda, then we should be interested in what the journalists themselves experienced. What did they see? What were they shown—and what were they not allowed to see? Did the experience change their understanding? Did they recognize attempts to shape the narrative?
Those are conversations worth having.
The Society of Professional Journalists’ ethical principle is useful here: journalists should avoid real or perceived conflicts of interest, refuse free travel and special treatment that may compromise their independence, and be transparent about their ethical choices.
But the same ethical code also encourages civil dialogue with the public about journalistic practices and news coverage.
Perhaps that is what we need now.
Accountability, yes.
Scrutiny, definitely.
But also, dialogue.
And perhaps the bigger question should not disappear:
Why has the suffering of Palestinians—and the killing of journalists trying to tell their stories—not generated the same depth of public discussion in the Philippines?
That last question, for me, is most important because it turns the controversy outward. The trip should not become such a consuming argument about individual Filipino journalists that Gaza itself disappears from the discussion.
(Personal view of the author on journalists accepting an Israeli government-sponsored trip)
