Periodically our
local Hot Doc’s theatre co-presents a film with the Globe and Mail. One of the
Globe’s foreign journalists comes to present a documentary that relates to an area
of his or her particular reportage. Last night two were shown by Patrick
Martin, the Globe’s Middle East correspondent, who has spent much of the last
several years covering the Palestinian/Israeli story. Martin’s intent in
showcasing the films was to demonstrate not just activities that are part of
the regular life shared by these two populations in Israel, but some of the
complexities of positions held on both sides. The first film, entitled Smile
and the World Smiles with You, was a short piece depicting the search of a
Palestinian family’s home by a squad of Israeli soldiers. The exact location of
this home was not clear to me. It would not likely have been in the Gaza strip,
but might have been in the West Bank or in an area more clearly delineated as
Israel proper. Soldiers can arrive unannounced and demand to search a private
home though again, under what conditions was not made clear. Presumably the
squad was looking for materials that could be used to make weapons intended for
use against Israelis.
That is the
set up: an occupying force has the right to come with serious weapons at the
ready, enter a home, order its occupants about, intrude upon its most private
places, and, if obstructed, arrest and/or possibly inflict physical damage
against the family members. However, one unusual aspect of the scene belies
some of the intense discrepancy of power inherent to it: the occupants document
the entire inspection of the home with a video camera. How can this be? How can
a family of least six people, living in what appears to be at most two or three
small rooms, supported by casual shoe repair work of the father and a teenage
boy, afford this clearly sophisticated and expensive apparatus? Why do the
soldiers permit the videotaping which clearly annoys and embarrasses them? The
camera and its usage represent what Martin was pointing out: the starkly varied
opinions within Israel itself about the prosecution of its occupation and its
coexistence with the Palestinians. Recognizing that soldiers would be sent to
search homes for weapons and that abuses could easily occur, the Supreme Court
ordered the distribution of video cameras to some of the homes in the area to
be used specifically to record these events, in this way acting as a
deterrent to soldiers who might be
tempted or provoked into crossing the line from inspection to abuse.
The
interactions between the soldiers and the family occur in two languages: Hebrew
and Arabic. The language of one group is not understood by the other, a
formidable barrier against the development of empathy on either side. One of
the soldiers understands Arabic and must translate things said into Hebrew for
his comrades. There are about six soldiers in the squad. All are dressed in
military combat gear with masks covering at least portions of their faces, and,
all carry serious weapons, fully drawn, often pointed directly at the people
they are questioning. The oldest son of the family shows them the goods on
shelves in what might be a common bedroom. The
soldiers are especially interested in what might be secreted in the area at the
bottom of the shelves. The 19 year old boy there to prove to them that nothing
questionable lurks in their home, clearly enjoys delaying and frustrating the
soldiers, making ironic comments and thwarting their desire to examine, confirm
safe, and leave the premises. The person holding the camera comes close to the
soldiers, embarrassing and annoying them despite many calls for him to back
off. The soldiers themselves seem to be about the same age as the son of the
house. They do not take kindly to his “smart” remarks. He is made to stand
against the wall of the house with his hands up while he is thoroughly searched.
The boy grins and makes comments throughout, not giving the soldiers the
satisfaction of being respectful or fearful. His demeanour further annoys them
and tension rises. The boy’s father tells him several times to be quiet, aware
that he could provoke a violent reaction or arrest. Finally the father appeals
to the soldiers directly, wanting to neutralize the provocation of the boy’s
grin. “Smile,” he says, “and the world smiles with you.” This homely saying is
understood by all and is received as if a piece of wisdom, allowing the
soldiers to relax and to back down. Tension resolves, inspection completed,
they move off to another assignment.
This kind of up
close and personal interaction between the soldiers and the civilian population
differs greatly from that shown in the second, longer film, Five Broken
Cameras. Filmed over a period of about six years, from 2005 to around 2011, it
chronicles the systematic encroachment of Israeli settlement in the West Bank
as it engulfs land owned by members of a village, Bil’in, at its very edge. In
this film the police and soldiers are viewed quite externally, men at a
distance from the villagers, enforcing barriers set by the needs of the
settlers and responding to the villagers’ resistance by progressively violent
means. The broken cameras of the film’s title are exhibits shown by Emad
Burnat, the villager who documented the process of encroachment and the forms
of resistance used by his neighbours and himself. Each of his five cameras
captured one period of the interactions; each was subsequently broken by some
violent encounter with the army sent to enforce the security of the settlers.
The film
opens on the occasion of the birth of the Bernat’s fourth son and concludes
around the time of his sixth birthday. It focuses in many ways on the
Palestinian villagers themselves, on their manner of living off the land with
their olive trees and their herds, on their families and communal life, their
spirit and liveliness, and, as the movement of the settlers more and more
encroach upon their centuries-old way of being – literally hiving off portions
of their land and burning down or uprooting their olive trees -- the forms of
resistance that inevitably were stirred. In the early days resistance was
entirely non-violent. Villagers would congregate to protest, hold up signs, and
argue with soldiers sent to buffer them from the settlers. As feeling grew more
intense they were ordered to disperse; failure to comply would prompt the
soldiers to throw tear gas canisters in their direction. Excitement was clearly
experienced by the young Palestinians in these encounters. They galvanized a
sense of communal purpose: we are being oppressed; we have the right to protest
and to make our case known to the world. The early encounters demonstrate
liveliness and even fun as the protesters sing and move closer to the limits laid
down by the soldiers, taunting them until the inevitable shower of tear gas erupts
and the villagers run away. Gradually the
stakes get higher. A fence built between the settlement and the village, limits
the villagers’ ability to move about locally. Attempts to sabotage the building
of the fence lead to more intense encounters: the firing of tear gas canisters
directly at the villagers; some bullets fired and people wounded; arrests and
detentions; a villager killed; Bernat himself seriously wounded when his car
crashes into the fence (under what circumstances was not clear). Because his
injuries were life threatening, the soldiers took him to an Israeli hospital,
in effect saving his life as the facilities at Palestinian medical centres would
have been inadequate.
It was
interesting to watch attitudes in Bernat’s family. His infant son’s early
vocabulary reflects the environment in which he is developing. His brothers are
all enthusiastically involved, each in turn being subjected to arrest. His
wife, not a part of the overt resistance enacted for the most part only by men
and boys, is supportive of it all, reflecting her own pride and excitement. She
encourages her sons to emulate the drive and passions of their father and
uncles. Bernat, who had purchased his first camera to capture images of his newly
born fourth son, turned it outward from a familial focus, to that of the
growing crisis for his village and its way of life. Progressively he is drawn
into a serious commitment to chronicling and publicizing the effects of the
settlers’ aggressive encroachments. Over the
period in which the film was shot the resistance of the village became
international news, drawing others of various backgrounds to the locale, eager
to join in thwarting the aims of the settlers. Bernat’s activism attracted the
interest and co-operation of Guy Davidi, an Israeli film maker, with whom Five
Broken Cameras was produced. Midway in the period documented the Israeli
Supreme Court ruled that the settlements were illegal and that the fence was to
be taken down. In fact, the ruling had little effect: the developments
continued; it was two years until the fence was removed, only to be replaced
soon after by a concrete wall similar to those encircling the population of
Gaza.
Like the
permissions given to soldiers to search private homes but to have their efforts
videotaped, the rulings of the Court and their ambiguous results reflect the
widely differing attitudes of the Israelis themselves. Unfortunately, as Martin
pointed out during the Q and A following the movies, the political climate of
the country is shifting further and further to the right. Those who decry
abuses of power and the encroachment of Palestinian lands are more likely to
move abroad, seeking a way of life more consistent with their own liberal
views. Those who hold an ultra-orthodox view that the whole of Israel has
been given to their people by God and that their right to exploit and develop
it is unquestionable, tend to remain and to work politically and practically to
enforce their vision.
The audience
itself reflected the divergence of views held not just in Israel but in Canada
and other countries as well. Many of the questions were straight forward
request for information about the situation as experienced by Martin. Two were
clear expressions of diametrically opposed views respecting blame and future directions.
The first gentleman signalled his disapproval of the money now being poured into
Gaza to rebuild after the recent round of fighting; his statement clearly
focused blame on the people of Gaza themselves. They ought now to live with the
rubble that they have effectively made of their own cities by fighting with the
Israelis. The second commentator pointedly asked Martin if he was a mouth piece for the Israeli government, spouting well-worn excuses for the exploitation of
the Palestinian people. Martin seemed quite unfazed by this assault, amiably
addressing the gentleman and assuring him that such was in no way his intent.
At this point the moderator announced the necessity of our clearing the theatre
to allow patrons queuing for the 8:30 movie to take their places. And clear it,
we did.
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