In central Tel Aviv, steps from Ichilov Hospital and the Azrieli shopping complex, lies HaKirya, the Israel Defense Forces headquarters. Beneath this urban hub, recent investigations have confirmed a labyrinth of reinforced bunkers and command centers designed to blend seamlessly into the metropolitan fabric. These underground facilities serve as a stark reminder that a state capable of sheltering its military operations beneath civilian institutions can still accuse others of the very same practice.
Psychologists describe projection as the unconscious act of attributing one’s undesirable impulses to another. In the realm of propaganda studies, this instinct is harnessed consciously and labeled accusation in a mirror. An actor first frames its adversary for a tactic it plans to employ or has already employed and then uses that claim to justify its actions in advance. This rhetorical device secures narrative primacy, ensuring that public perception aligns with the accuser’s interests before independent analysis can take place.
The logic of accusation in a mirror was on full display in November of 2023 when the Israeli Defense Forces announced that they had discovered a 55-meter tunnel beneath Gaza’s largest medical complex, al Shifa Hospital, allegedly leading to a Hamas command center. Official footage showed a metallic spiral staircase descending below a hospital shed and ending at a fortified blast door. Spin doctors presented this as proof that Hamas was using civilians as shields, framing the subsequent raid as both lawful and necessary under international humanitarian principles.
Independent experts, however, questioned the narrative. A Gaza-based civil engineer noted that parts of the tunnel’s construction would have required large and noisy machinery, equipment incompatible with clandestine digging under hostile conditions. No verified command center was ever disclosed to the public, and Israeli forces hesitated to breach the final blast door, citing concerns over improvised explosive devices. Meanwhile, journalists and satellite analysts confirmed the existence of tunnels but were unable to substantiate their use for military operations.
In a revealing interview with CNN, former prime minister Ehud Barak admitted that the very bunkers cited as evidence of Hamas’s wrongdoing were built by Israeli engineers in the early nineteen eighties. At that time, Israel administered the Gaza Strip and expanded al Shifa’s underground capacity for laundry and storage to support the hospital’s civilian functions. Decades later, the same structures became the centerpiece of a campaign to delegitimize an adversary’s tactics, obscuring the facility’s original purpose.
Across the Mediterranean, Israel’s domestic landscape exhibits a similar pattern of integrating military assets into civilian life. At Tel Hashomer, the sprawling Sheba Medical Center sits within walking distance of army barracks and missile defense installations. Even Israel’s reported nuclear storage site at Sdot Micha abuts agricultural communities whose residents would suffer in the event of an accident or hostile strike. This intimate proximity serves both strategic and rhetorical ends, complicating potential targeting decisions while providing ready cover in the court of public opinion.
In the occupied West Bank and East Jerusalem, more than six hundred thousand Israeli settlers reside in fortified enclaves interwoven with Palestinian towns. The Israeli military defends these enclaves, rarely described as instruments of broader security architecture. Instead, any attack on these civilian classified areas is portrayed as indiscriminate violence, justifying sweeping reprisals, checkpoints, and punitive home demolitions. The settlers themselves, though often armed and supported by ideological militias, are consistently treated as non-combatants, their civilian status mirroring the shield narrative applied to Gaza’s hospitals.
This dual application of moral outrage and tactical embedding extends into the realm of international justice. On November 21, 24, the International Criminal Court issued arrest warrants for Israeli leaders, citing alleged war crimes and crimes against humanity related to operations in Gaza. Those warrants remain unenforced, stymied by the refusal of major powers to recognize the court’s jurisdiction. Meanwhile, accusations of war crimes against Palestinian groups guide policy debates and public opinion, underscoring how legal instruments become another battlefield where narrative mirrors reflect the uneven application of accountability.
Such whataboutism illustrates the discursive dimension of accusation in a mirror. When analysts call out Israel’s actions in Gaza, official spokespeople swiftly counter with references to tunnels or civilian casualties in other conflicts. This tactic shifts the frame from specific conduct to a global ledger of grievances, diluting the focus on any single set of events and eroding the possibility of impartial adjudication.
International humanitarian law grants hospitals special protection and requires parties to verify allegations before targeting them. However, once a facility is labeled a terrorist base, the burden of proof falls on the accused rather than the accuser. Civilian suffering is often reclassified as collateral damage in the pursuit of rooting out hidden threats. In contrast, the same scrutiny rarely applies to underground command centers beneath Tel Aviv or missile sites near hospitals. The inversion of burden highlights how accusations in a mirror undermine legal safeguards and equate narrative momentum with moral legitimacy.
At its core, accusation in a mirror weaponizes doubt. It engenders a preemptive conviction that hinders independent inquiry. The very act of framing an adversary’s alleged wrongdoing erects a rhetorical barrier to objective analysis. Observers eager for clarity must peer behind these mirrored narratives, examining not just what is accused but who is doing the accusing and why.
In the theater of modern conflict, every tunnel, bunker, and command center carries a story. When that story begins with an accusation, the audience must ask whether it is being told or performed. To restore the line between civilian protection and strategic assertion, analysts, journalists, and legal bodies must demand consistent standards. Embedding military infrastructure under or beside hospitals should draw the same scrutiny and censure, regardless of which flag flies above it. Only by shattering the mirror of accusation can we glimpse the reality beyond reflection.
The strategic use of accusation in a mirror and related psychological operations (psyops) plays a significant role in shaping public perception during the conflict. These tactics are designed to establish dominant narratives and influence international discourse. The table below outlines common psychological operations (psyops) techniques, detailing their mechanisms, objectives, and concrete examples. (See Table above)
