This
week I went to see a special screening of a Palestinian-Israeli documentary
called 5 broken cameras. Shot over seven years by a filming-passionate Palestinian
farmer, it tells the story of a West Bank village trying to resist, through
non-violent protests, attempts by armed Israeli forces to grab their land. This
grabbing exercise is known to the world as Israeli settlements.
Two
days ago, on Thursday 30 March, Benjamin Netanyahu announced the first officially
sanctioned settlements in the West Bank in more than 20 years.
5
Broken Cameras
Emad
Burnat, a Palestinian farmer in a West Bank village Bil’in, got his first video
camera in 2005, to film his just-born son. Bil’in happens to be located on the West
bank border. Well armed Israeli forces, wearing masks and helmets, backed by
the Israeli state, are on a mission to keep expanding Israeli boundaries by
encroaching on the Bil’in land, bulldozing olive trees, building fences and new
housing for Jewish settlers on a continuous basis. The villagers follow a
Gandhian path of peaceful protests every week. The Israeli forces regularly
shoot at the demonstrators with tear gas canisters and rubber bullets. It looks
like a sci-fi scene between people from earth and aliens, a battle as
asymmetric as it can be.
Since
2005, Burnat has been courageously filming the events. His brothers are arrested;
he gets wounded, on one occasion a bullet that hits his camera saves his life.
Every time a camera is destroyed by the Israelis, he desperately tries to get
another camera. Over seven years (2005-2011), he shot more than 700 hours of footage.
5 broken cameras is a 94 minute edited version, directed and financed by
an Israeli named Guy Davidi. The film was nominated for Oscars in 2013. This
real first-hand and first-class documentation of the Israel-Palestine conflict
didn’t win the Oscar. (Some people say it should be obvious why).
The
film’s narrative has several human threads. Burnat’s son Gibreel is born in
2005, at the beginning of the filming. In the documentary, we watch him grow
and celebrate his birthdays. The first words he utters are “wall” and
“cartridge”. Adeeb and Phil are Burnat’s friends. They are at the forefront of
the resistance. Adeeb goes to jail, and Phil is killed. This is a surreal
experience for viewers. At the back of your mind, you usually know that the
characters dying on screen are alive in real life. Here we see the gentle, laughing
Phil, a man hugely popular with kids, appealing to Israeli soldiers without
losing his smile, and later succumbing to a bullet. We see his death captured live
by the camera.
The
film is a chronicle of endurance, an emotional consequence of living under
occupation. There are surprises for the uninitiated viewer. Strangely enough, Burnat,
seriously injured, is carried to a hospital in Tel Aviv. He says if not for the
Israeli hospital and doctors, he would have lost his life. The Supreme Court of
Israel orders removal of the encroaching wire fence. Albeit with a four year
delay, the fence is removed by the Israeli forces. It’s a small moral victory
for the suffering villagers.
After
watching the film, one wonders if Gibreel, the filmmaker’s son, when he grows
up, would follow in his father’s non-violent footsteps or join some group like
Hamas. It’s unlikely any of us would go to West Bank as tourists. I would
unhesitatingly recommend watching this film to get an idea of what goes on
there.
The
screening was followed by a discussion. A man who looked like a Palestinian,
but was an Israeli, came on the stage. He appealed to the audience: “What you
saw was true, but it’s only a very small part of the story. Please, please you
can’t judge Israel based on this one-sided viewpoint.”
Jews
in my life
Fifty
years ago, one of my neighbours in Bombay was a Jewish man named Abraham Mazel.
A dark, moustachioed man, he owned a large black Doberman. I remember his
grown-up sons getting into a brawl with the ground-floor neighbours. They threw
soda-water bottles at the neighbours from above. The following morning, a
police van took the sons away for a brief period. The Mazel family left our
building in my childhood; it was rumoured they migrated to Israel.
Once
I started living in Russia, suddenly I was surrounded by Jews, Jew stories and
Jew jokes.
My
ex-wife was Russian. A few years before we met, she was planning to marry a
Jewish guy. Her family was fine with that, but the Jew boy’s family refused a
non-Jewish bride.
When
I worked for a tobacco company, the company’s Russian customers were mostly Jews.
Judaism is not only a religion, but a race. I began to notice their facial
features were different from Slavic people. The company’s first importer,
Vladimir Ainbinder, told me disturbing stories about how he was ill-treated in his
school and career.
In
Moscow, we worked in an open office. Once I was speaking to Mr Ainbinder over the
phone, and he asked me who Mr Dreitsen (another customer) was. I said, “He is a
Jew, just like you.” I meant that as a single-word-compliment to their community’s
business acumen. But the Russians in the office, who overheard the phone conversation,
were stunned. Later, they would quote that as an example of my outspokenness or
insensitivity. If I told a Buddhist that another man was also a Buddhist, I don’t
think that would be considered insensitive. But in Russia, Jews have a special
place – not a dignified one.
Mr
Ainbinder told me horror stories about discrimination at school. Later, as a
programmer, he was denied promotions in the company. The appointment of a Jew
boss lifted his spirits. But his Jew boss refused to promote him. I can’t be
seen favouring another Jew, that’ll ruin my career, he said.
Soviet
Passports had the infamous ‘fifth line’ called ‘nationality’. Here
Russians wrote “Russian”, Ukrainians “Ukrainian”, but Jews had to write “Jew”. Regardless
of geography, Jews were outcasts. In the Soviet Union, this fifth line ensured
that Jews could be identified irrespective of their features and accents. Only in 1997, ‘nationality’ was deleted from
Russian passports.
During
Soviet times, the United States offered ‘Refugee Passports” to Soviet Jews. Mr
Ainbinder, a successful businessman (he made a fortune by trading in
cigarettes), along with his family emigrated to the USA on “Refugee Passports.”
After the collapse of the Soviet Union, America stopped this scheme. Jews were
no longer expected to be persecuted.
Judaism
vs Zionism
Zion
is the hill of Jerusalem. Jews lived there 3000 years ago, and were
periodically defeated and driven away from it. We learn about that period from
the Hebrew bible and history books. But when you talk about events 3000 years
old, it is difficult to distinguish between history and mythology. The return
to Zion is a biblical story that talks about the return of Jews from Babylonian
exile to the land of Israel. Inspired by this story, Jews have aspired to
return to their homeland for centuries.
Theodor
Herzl, a Hungarian Jew, is considered to be the founder of Zionism. In 1896, in
his book Der Judenstaat (the Jews’ State) he wrote: The Jewish question persists wherever Jews
live in appreciable number. Wherever it doesn’t exist, it is brought in
together with Jewish immigrants. We are naturally drawn into those places,
where we are not persecuted, and our appearance there gives rise to
persecution. This is the case, and will inevitably be so, everywhere, so long
as the Jewish question is not solved on a political level.... The Jews who wish
for a State will have it. We shall live at last as free men, and die peacefully
in our own homes.
Herzl
was opposed to the infiltration of Palestine by Jews migrating there sneakily.
He wanted a dignified homeland. In the early 1900s, the ambitious Herzl identified
Uganda (modern day Kenya) as one of the options. The British, the colonial
masters of Uganda then, offered him 13000 sq kms surrounded by virgin forest.
Though suitable in terms of weather, the area was found to be full of dangerous
lions and unwelcoming natives. The Uganda plan was abandoned. Herzl died in
1904, without knowing the Uganda proposal was cancelled.
Balfour
declaration, 1917
In
the First World War the British defeated the Ottoman Turkish forces and
occupied Palestine, Syria and Lebanon. Baron Walter Rothschild, of the
well-known Rothschild family, was a leader of the British Jewish community, a
banker, politician and a Zionist. He had financially helped Britain in their
war efforts. He, along with other Zionists, actively lobbied for a Jewish
homeland. As a result of the activism, Britain’s
foreign secretary Arthur Balfour finally sent him a letter to confirm the
British government favoured the creation of a “national home” for Jews in
Palestine. After much debating over political correctness and nuances, the
final draft of the declaration proclaimed:
“His Majesty's
government view with favour the establishment in Palestine of a national
home for the Jewish people, and will use their best endeavours to
facilitate the achievement of this object, it being clearly understood that
nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of
existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine, or the rights and political
status enjoyed by Jews in any other country.”
The
British had their geopolitical reasons for initiating the move. The main reason
was control over the Suez Canal. The opening of the Suez Canal had miraculously
reduced the distance between England and India, the empire’s jewel crown, by
7000 kms. This was important for trade and management. A Jewish national home
in Palestine was thought to be a safeguard to secure control over the Suez
Canal.
In
1920, the British Empire sent Herbert Samuel, a Zionist, as the first High
Commissioner of Palestine. He was the first Jew to govern the historic
land of Israel in 2000 years.
A
British census of 1918 counted 700,000 Arabs (93%) and 56,000 Jews (7%) in
Palestine. (Compare that to 6.4 million Jews in Israel today).
This
action was mind-boggling. A European power (Britain) offered a non-European
territory (Palestine) completely ignoring the presence or wishes of 93% of its
natives (Arab population) as home to a third religion (Judaism) and to
its foreign followers (worldwide Jews).
It
was like a man enslaving a woman, and then offering her to strangers to rape.
Balfour
declaration, 1917, by the British Empire is considered to be the trigger for
the formation of a Jewish state on Arab territory thirty-one years later.
*****
(To
be continued next week)
Ravi