“How could you even think of bringing a mobile phone? Because of you, there’ll be a drone above us. Don’t you understand that we have to disappear?! That means no mobile phones, no Internet… nothing!”
These are the words of Hamas’s leader in the West Bank, Abu Samara, and although he is a fictional character created for the Netflix series Fauda, they sound prophetic.
On October 30, the documentary Paging Hezbollah will open in US cinemas. Its title already suggests a provocative double meaning: calling Hezbollah on a pager or, more ominously, sending Hezbollah a message.
THE NARRATIVE POWER OF THE PAGER OPERATION
Directed by Justin Folk and written by John Miller-Monzon and Justin Folk, the documentary recounts one of the Israeli intelligence service’s most painstaking operations.
The intelligence service designed, engineered and sold communications devices to the Lebanese organisation, then detonated them remotely.
And what communicative value might there be in telling this story today, two years later?
Complex intelligence operations with surprising outcomes have enormous narrative potential, often extending beyond their operational dimension: they can become compelling, emblematic stories that may reveal previously unknown details and endure over time.
Consider that when Abu Samara’s words were broadcast on Netflix, in one of the early episodes of Fauda’s second season, it was only 2018; yet the project to infiltrate explosive walkie-talkies, which preceded the operation involving Mossad-made pagers, was already under way.
There is, however, a more complex question, one that forces us to consider the distribution and potential use of the pager documentary for communication purposes.
How can it be used?
THE CONTEXT OF THE COMMUNICATION WAR
The operational and tactical outcome of the pager attack is clear.
It killed and wounded people, including civilians, and above all opened a physical breach in the security of the Lebanese paramilitary organisation (we will discuss the infiltration of the pager supply chain in another article).
That was in 2024, but reiterating and deploying its message today may prove useful, and means engaging with a particular moment for Israel’s image.
In this new context, the weakening of Hezbollah’s chain of command takes second place, since Israel now has enemies and detractors extending beyond Lebanon’s borders more than before.
If we place the country within the communications environment and assess the weapons available in this intangible theatre, we can identify several relevant factors.
“People hate us again,” says Israeli stand-up comedian Yohay Sponder in one of his most viral performances, using exaggeration for effect to draw a rueful laugh, which he gets.
But he touches an open wound. Because the country’s position in the communications arena has at least 4 clear and tangible weaknesses:
- In a Pew survey, a majority of respondents in most of the 36 countries surveyed in 2026 express a negative opinion of Israel;
- 55% of EU respondents interviewed by Eurobarometer in November 2025 consider antisemitism a problem in their country, and 47% believe it has increased over the past five years;
- Support for the country is declining following the series of attacks on Gaza (particularly in the US, among Democratic voters and young people; source: Brookings, 2025);
- Its reputation and credibility are undermined by the disclosure of apparently ignored warnings of the imminent October 7 attack (we will return to this in another analysis).
So what can a country say about itself when, more than before, it is seen as unlikeable, ugly and bad?
And how can it do so?
THE MESSAGE REMAINS THE SAME
Anyone expecting surprising developments on this front will be disappointed: the image it chooses to project, the one available to it, has not changed over time.
And it is difficult to change.
The message remains the same: it is a country under threat, but ingenious, relentless and, above all – artly for geographical reasons – intent on presenting attack as an effective means of defence.
Indeed, this last element of the message emphasises a deeply cynical aspect that seems useful in justifying any preventive or expansionary use of force: gaining space – strategic depth, as geopolitical experts would call it – means accumulating “territorial deterrence”, the negotiating leverage with which to approach any future agreement, which often translates into giving up territory.
The portrayal of this ability to penetrate geographically, by a country that expands and contracts like an accordion, echoes another ability. That of leaving a deep mark on the enemy’s psyche: it takes revenge on whoever harms it, wherever they may be.
Relentless also means vengeful.
Vengeful, too, was the message conveyed by Steven Spielberg’s 2005 film Munich, which depicted “Wrath of God”, the operation in which Mossad hunted down people believed to have been involved in the terrorist attack carried out by Black September during the 1972 Munich Olympics.
Ingenious also means intelligent; smarter than others captures the idea better…
There is, after all, an image to restore and reaffirm, especially after the surprise attack of October 7 called intelligence capabilities into question (another subject we will return to…).
And there is ground to regain in communicating innovation, far beyond the land of milk and honey, Orri mandarins, advanced medicine and water-management techniques developed in conditions of unfortunate drought.
The pager documentary can indeed be deployed to tell, once again, the story of an enviable technological superiority, one that can be used to flex its muscles and move back and forth between high tech and low tech (pagers are simple devices).
But if the message remains unchanged – indeed, if it emphasises the familiar elements – who are its intended recipients?
MULTIPLE AUDIENCES AND THEIR PSYCHOLOGY
Drawing up the country’s communication strategy by starting with a definition of its intended audiences is a highly demanding task.
The geographical classification of near and far would immediately overlap with the diplomatic classification of friends and enemies, in which some countries, for example, would occupy both positions.
And a national classification distinguishing between internal and external audiences (inside and outside the country) would intersect with national, cultural and religious affiliations that cross its borders.
The most interesting definition of the audience, though also a risky and ambiguous one, might be psychological.
It would seek to place those already convinced by the message on one side (Israel is intelligent, relentless and expansionary out of necessity). And the sceptics, conspiracy theorists and the timid on the other. Without giving a damn about notions of right and wrong.
In a 2024 interview, clinical psychologist Ofer Grosbard, who advised the Research Division of Israeli Military Intelligence (Aman) two years before the October 7 attack, described the psychological outlook of some of the country’s citizens as follows: “Many believed financial aid would pacify Hamas, as they assumed everyone seeks a better life.”
The most difficult terrain, then, including – and especially – in communication, remains understanding the enemy.
And if we decide that the intended audience of the communication campaign is the enemy, who exactly are we talking about?
One perception is shared by different audiences that are difficult to define geographically, politically or religiously: Israel is a violent, cruel and vengeful country; and the film NAZA, in the reading of its communication proposed here, gives voice to that representation.
But faced with these different perspectives, will Israel choose to respond by saying that it is a good country?
Or will it respond by displaying the law of retaliation – an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth – in other words, a more violent message, and therefore one that is more understandable and credible to countries with the more traditional cultures described by Grosbard in his book The Evolution of Thinking?
And this is where the second weapon used in this complex context emerges: for several weeks, around the anniversary of October 7, graphic footage, including previously unseen material, taken from the bodycam recordings of the terrorists who carried out the attack has been circulating on social media.
The tactic is clear: rather than saying “Israel is not cruel, but good”, the preference is to show the enemy’s cruelty.
Will it work? And who will decide whether to change strategy?
WHO IS THE SENDER?
If it is difficult to identify the intended audiences of Israel’s communication strategy precisely, it is equally difficult to envisage clear and unified direction behind these possible choices.
The communicative use of the TV series Fauda, too, although tied to specific events, can extend beyond the individual stories it tells and establish an important perceptual backdrop.
Incidentally, in September, following the release of its fifth season, Fauda reached first place in Netflix’s rankings in Lebanon, while also achieving strong positions in the United Arab Emirates and Jordan.
Thus, rather than conveying specific messages, Fauda seems useful in establishing, in the collective psyche of part of the country, as well as among enemies or those whose opinions may change, the idea of a constant state of alert and fear.
It depicts a landscape in which deterrence, retaliation and violent attack are simply the logical response to violence suffered—even if hypothetical, or merely inferred from a fragment of intelligence.
An intelligence service that has always chosen to strike, not merely to prevent. Even under the eyes of more timid Western intelligence services, perhaps envious of all that freedom of action.
Returning to the messages: if the pager documentary seeks to recover and re-establish the idea of a country that is at the forefront, ingenious and relentless, and if the previously unseen October 7 footage normalises the use of violence by showing that of the enemy, Fauda, for its part, prepares the ground for striking by portraying permanent vulnerability.
These are three weapons available to Israel in its communication war, and they do not need common direction to convey something coherent or converge into a single narrative.
Right or wrong, these are the weapons available. And testing their effectiveness, beyond elections, leaders and the actors involved, remains a complex and lengthy task.
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