The Jerusalem Film Festival has, for the last three years, awarded
a special prize for films in "The Spirit of Freedom" - films
dealing with the quest for freedom of speech and expression, human
rights and social awareness. This year, a new prize was awarded for
the first time: the Mediterranean Film Prize "In Pursuit of Peace
and Tolerance" for the best film in this cat¬egory from
countries around the Mediterranean.
In this context, Lia van Leer, founder and director of the
Festival, who is committed to the struggle for peace and justice,
sees the inclusion of films dealing with the Israel/Palestine
conflict as essential.
Swallows Never Die in Jerusalem, was, however, the only feature
film in this year's Festival dealing with the Palestinian-Israeli
conflict, and the first film from an Arab country to be an official
entry in the Jerusalem Festival. Swallows is an ambitious and
courageous film, directed by Tunisia's Rihda Behi. The main plot
centers around a French TV reporter, Richard, who arrives in
Jerusalem following the Oslo agreement, and becomes involved in the
search for his guide's grandmother who had dis¬appeared during
the flight from Jaffa in 1948.
The plot seems simple enough, but the film is a complicated one,
with several subplots. The most important is Richard's ongoing
affair with an Israeli psychologist and the tension it raises
between love and work. Another is the conflict between the guide's
sister and her husband. Recently released from prison after serving
five years in an Israeli jail, he comes out committed to Islamic
fundamentalism and insists that his "Westernized" wife lead a
"pure" Muslim life and be veiled when she goes out. Finally, the
film also takes a jab at Palestinian "collaboration with the
enemy," which leads to a shocking ending.
As an "outsider" making a film about the Palestinian-Israeli
conflict, Behi is aware that he has left himself open to criticism,
of not knowing or really understanding the material. Whereas most
Israelis I talked to thought Swallows was politically "fair," many
Palestinians were critical, particularly of the presentation of
Islamic fundamentalism, and the con¬troversial approach to
collaboration.
However, for a film that is described as pro-Palestinian, I found
it extremely well-balanced. For instance, after an Israeli soldier
brutally beats a Palestinian, we see the soldier visiting a
psychiatrist and confessing that he "cannot live with himself." But
commendable though the film's inten¬tions are, the result is
problematic. In his brave and honorable quest for political
balance, Behi has perhaps sacrificed the deeper personal truths of
his characters. By trying to deal with too many issues, none of
them has been satisfactorily explored.
This begs the question about the validity of film as a medium for
deal¬ing with political conflicts. Does a political message
detract from a film's quality? Behi was at pains to stress that he
was not into making propagan¬da films. "Since Sabra and
Shatila, I have wanted to make a film about the Palestinian
problem. But it was also very important to me to show Jewish
suffering in an Arab film. The Jews suffered terribly in the
Holocaust and I wanted Arabs to see this. At the same time, this is
no reason for Israelis to treat the Palestinians badly now. The
grandmother in my film represents the land, and her loss is the
loss of the land for the Palestinians. But it is not an absolute
loss, because somewhere she is still present. So hope is still
pre¬sent, and the peace process will give the Palestinians a
chance to regain at least part of their land."
Behi has no illusions that films will change the world. But he
makes films as a testimony, to show what is happening now, what
excites and revolts. To show that we have choices - to show both
sides to each other.
Nizzar Hassan, the director of Istiqlal, screened at the last
year's Festival where it won the Wolgin Award for best documentary
film, has other priorities. "At the moment I am living under
occupation; my land and my identity have been stolen from me. But I
want to make my films, about things I love, things I hate, but not
in relation to Israel. Filmmakers are not politicians, and they
should not try to be. I make films about the endless and
contradictory human predicament, films that document a certain
reali¬ty. We are writing history in films, but a very
subjective history. I am Palestinian, so I make films about
Palestinians. If people love the characters in my films, and they
[the characters] are Palestinian, maybe they will come to be more
'human' in their attitudes towards Palestinians. But I don't set
out to make 'political film.'"
But not for every¬one. Nissim Mossek is the Israeli director
of Neighbors or Foes, one of only a handful of documentary films
made about the con¬flict in this year's Festival. Set in
el-¬Khalidieh Street in the Muslim Quarter of the Old City of
Jerusalem, it deals with the Jews and Arabs who are forced to live
there together, in uneasy truce at best, in open hostility, at
worst.
Mossek and his crew began filming in the el-Khalidieh Street ten
years ago, when a rabbinical student was murdered there, in broad
daylight, and no Arab went to his aid, though Jews maintain that
some must have seen the incident. This led to riots and the burning
of Arab homes. With the start of the Intifada, the situation
worsened. This is a pes¬simistic film, though clearly an
honest one; Mossek has not manipulated his material to prove any
point, and was restrained in his showing of vio¬lence. But why
make this film now, when such efforts are being made towards
dialogue and peace?
"Jerusalem is divided, and it is important to show the reality.
Maybe as nations we are not yet ready to live together. But as
individuals, the peo¬ple on the Street are friendly towards
each other. The future status of Jerusalem will be decided by
politicians; but the real dialogue will happen in streets like
EI-Khalidieh."
Return to Oulad Mounmen is a beautifully-made French film by Izza
Genini, tracing the dispersion of her family from the village of
Oulad Mounmen, which lies amidst olive groves south of Marrakesh,
all over Morocco and eventually to France, America, Mexico, Italy
and Israel. Eventually, she succeeds in reuniting her family in the
village where the dynasty began in the 1920s. This gentle,
beautifully-shot film is a heart¬warming story of the search
for personal history - and so is strictly speaking beyond the brief
scope of this article - but it is important, per¬haps, because
of its depiction of the harmony and coexistence that had always
existed in the village between the Jews and Arabs. By the end of
the film, we love them all.
To David Benchetrit, the director of some 40 films, "the emotional
impact is what is important in all films, documentary as well as
feature ... My purpose in making films is to touch people's hearts
and souls, to show what is human in all of us; perhaps to unveil
one side to the other, to act as a kind of bridge between the two
societies. Film can help to break the myths and stereotypes that
each side has of the other. And perhaps it can show that
forgiveness is possible." And maybe good films - from the
evi¬dence of this Festival - can, in some way, help us to see
this.