In 1898, H.G. Wells published The War of the Worlds, a tale of Martians descending upon Earth with a vengeance, destroying human civilization with heat-rays, poisonous black smoke, and mechanical tripods. Though a science fiction novel, it was, in truth, a work of speculative prophecy. Today, over a century later, The War of the Worlds feels less like fantasy and more like a harrowing metaphor for modern warfare, where the technologically superior—such as the Israeli military, armed with state-of-the-art weaponry—continue to dominate, destroy, and disrupt the fabric of weaker societies like Gaza.
Wells’ story, set in the quiet suburbs of Victorian England, captured a nation on the cusp of imperial dominance. Yet, in a remarkable twist, Wells flipped the narrative—what if the colonizers were themselves colonized? The Martians, with their towering machines and ruthless tactics, became the new imperialists. Israel’s advanced defense systems and mechanized operations in the occupied territories echo this logic, showcasing how dominance and militarism can erode empathy and escalate cycles of violence, particularly in the Palestinian territories.
In The War of the Worlds, the narrator reflects on the Martians’ disregard for human life: “And before we judge of them too harshly, we must remember what ruthless and utter destruction our own species has wrought.” Herein lies the moral fulcrum of the novel. Wells was not merely imagining alien warfare—he was holding a mirror to British imperialism in Africa, India, and beyond. Similarly, the sustained air raids and blockade tactics employed by Israel in Gaza and the West Bank reflect a deeply unsettling disregard for civilian life, mirroring the cold rationalism of Wells’ invaders.
Wells imagined tripod machines towering over the countryside, crushing humans like insects. It’s difficult not to draw a parallel with today’s drones—unmanned aerial vehicles that hover ominously above conflict zones, dropping death with robotic detachment. Israel has become a global leader in drone technology and surveillance systems, often deploying these tools to target suspected militants. However, countless civilians—children, medics, and journalists—have also fallen victim, reinforcing the Martian-like detachment of modern warfare.
In Wells’ time, people were horrified by the idea of machines killing humans. Now, such killings are conducted with bureaucratic efficiency. The terrifying part is that civilians are often just collateral damage in what governments call “precision warfare.” Israel’s “surgical strikes” in urban refugee camps, often justified as counterterrorism, have led to the deaths of thousands of non-combatants, drawing sharp criticism from human rights organizations. Wells had predicted this coldness—the Martians kill not out of hatred but from a place of mechanical logic. The modern Israeli arsenal operates on similar calculations: minimal risk to soldiers, maximum impact on targets, regardless of human cost.
Another interesting connection is in the role of the narrator—a journalist who records the destruction as it unfolds. Wells positioned the press as a witness, a recorder of truth. Today, journalists in Gaza face near-impossible odds: navigating bombardments, blackouts, and targeted attacks. Some international press agencies have reported deliberate strikes on media buildings by Israeli forces, highlighting the systemic erasure of witness narratives. Just as Wells’ narrator struggled to maintain objectivity amidst chaos, today’s journalists battle to reveal the truth under mounting pressure and threat.
When Israel launched its recent operations in Gaza, images of charred bodies, crumbling buildings, and displaced families flooded social media before any official reports. The modern narrator is no longer a single journalist but millions of digital witnesses capturing a fragmented truth. Yet much like Wells’ narrator—often disoriented and overwhelmed—today’s journalists and civilians documenting Israeli air raids often face censorship, demonization, or disbelief. The horror is not just in the destruction but in the struggle to be heard.
Wells did not offer solutions, but his work remains a stark warning. The Martians, invincible as they seemed, were ultimately defeated by bacteria—by nature itself. This ironic twist reminds us that no technology, no matter how powerful, can escape the checks and balances of nature and morality. Israel’s domination over Palestine through military might may appear absolute, but the global backlash, psychological trauma, and generational resentment it breeds suggest a longer-term destabilization—proof that even the most sophisticated power structures are vulnerable to unseen, slow-building forces of resistance and justice.