Israel understands well that in the age of the internet, wars are no longer won or lost solely on the battlefield—they are also decided across social media and global public opinion.
Amid Israeli attacks on Iran, images emerging from the ground—lifeless infants in bombed hospitals, the bodies of schoolchildren in cities like Minab, and the ruins of residential towers—are horrifying and often too graphic to circulate widely. Such images construct a deeply damaging global perception of Israel.
In response, the Israeli military promotes a very different visual narrative. Carefully curated images are published: female pilots in crisp, stylish uniforms; women soldiers with polished appearances; figures who seem more like they belong in fashion magazines than in war zones. They are shown beside tanks, near fighter jets, and inside military bases—sometimes even framed as figures of command.
But a closer look raises a critical question: why, in the midst of a devastating war, do these images appear so clean, composed, and almost model-like?
The answer lies in what can be described as “sex diplomacy.”
Simply put, sex diplomacy refers to the use of women’s image, physical attractiveness, and bodies to advance political objectives. Within this framework, women are no longer represented as individuals, but as instruments of propaganda—tools designed to soften and aestheticize the harsh realities of war.
This is not merely about women’s presence in the military; it is about how that presence is constructed and presented. Which images are selected from thousands of real moments? Which women are shown and which are deliberately left out? For years, Israel has employed this strategy with notable sophistication.
The reality of war is well known: blood, destruction, fear, and grief. But such realities are deemed unsuitable for mass consumption. Instead, audiences are presented with images of women soldiers in spotless uniforms, wearing light makeup, smiling beside advanced fighter jets. This is a calculated project of visual cleansing—stripping war of its brutality and replacing it with an orderly, palatable aesthetic.
Through this narrative, Israel attempts to send a powerful message: “We are modern and progressive—our women fly F-16 fighter jets. To criticize us is to oppose progress and women’s rights.”
This functions as a form of moral leverage. The language of equality is used as a shield, deflecting criticism while violence continues. The issue is not that a woman has achieved rank within a military structure; the issue is how her image is deployed.
When that image becomes a tool to justify or obscure violence—whether in Gaza or Iran it no longer represents gender equality. Instead, it reflects the instrumentalization of equality itself, recast in the service of power and conflict.
Faeze Aghamohammady