“Our Summud in Masafer Yatta is indebted to people like Yuval”
Alongside jubilation and countless congratulations, No Other Land’s Oscar win has also come with a stream of criticisms, including from Palestinian activists online. Masafer Yatta’s residents replied: “Let the critics leave the comfort of their air conditioning and live with us here for one week and then talk”
By Samah Salaime • Translated by Keren Rubinstein
Huge congratulations to Yuval Abraham, Basel Adra, Rachel Szor and Hamdan Ballal for winning the Oscar with their film, No Other Land. This is a great honour and achievement for the creators, for Masafer Yatta, for Palestinians and for cinematic activism in general.
The fame and glory of the great stage, however, has its downsides that come with any powerful cultural artefact: piercing glistening critiques, competing with the sheen of the sought after statuette. In the case of No Other Land, this critique was no surprise, as was the government’s response and that of its keyboard warriors who didn’t like the film that they hadn’t actually watched, attacking the Israeli filmmakers as well and anything to do with the film. They woke up to an unprecedented virtual war against the movie which “distorts” reality and slanders Israel on the global stage by Jews that hate their country.
The madness around the movie and Basel and Yuval’s short speeches even led to Israeli portal Ynet criticising the impudent director for mentioning Gaza before mentioning the hostages. They may as well have counted how many syllables were uttered by the Palestinian and the Israeli did and why it wasn’t balanced.
We’re used to this level of Zionist blindness among Israeli journalists. But what about criticism from the other side, criticism from the BDS movement, from pro-Palestinian Jews here and abroad, activists that would crucify any Jew in their purist path to identification with the Palestinian people?
Those voices were quick to examine the director’s unique, sophisticated and hidden Zionism of the director and his Jewish colleagues, acting “as if” they identify with Palestinians, while in fact they are the new face of Zionism, which rules globally and in Hollywood. This doesn’t stop them of course from congratulating the Palestinian filmmaker for the movie and encouraging him, while attacking his Israeli partner and breaking his hands.
“Why didn’t he say genocide? Why didn’t he say ethnic cleansing?!” Endless such claims. “How is he okay with the Palestinian voice and narrative being heard only through a Jewish lens? It should be called ‘Zionist cinematic colonialism’!” All this while lobbying for the BDS movement to boycott the movie for “normalising our attitude to the occupiers”, and so on.
“Like a cookbook”
Of course, some Palestinians in Israel and the diaspora, including some from the BDS movement, quickly joined the party, a golden opportunity for the keyboard liberation front to launch a virtual attack, score “likes”, and glean moments of fandom and cheers.
Internet activist Salma Shawa posted a piercing video about the movie, where she mainly promoted herself while comparing the movie to an Arab-Jewish cookbook, which she had attacked earlier. It is a mockery of Palestinians’ intelligence to compare a cookbook to a documentary, the product of two life-long friends’ hard work, an Israeli and a Palestinian, who stood with cameras in the face of military bulldozers. Those are the Palestinians whom Shawa accused as follows: “We have a hunger and thirst for anything to do with the West, we want to be accepted as cultured people who can produce culture and movies and win awards for those movies, without thinking for a moment how this may hurt the Palestinian narrative and Palestinian struggle”.
She determines decisively that, “We Palestinians have never felt that we have anything in common with Israelis. Something isn’t right with us and our way of thinking, which doesn’t change after one and a half years of genocide, and we have to stop that”. This post received thousands of responses for and against. Shawa of course doesn’t answer the most basic questions: “Have you seen the movie?” “What do you say about other struggles in the world, after all there were always Whites that supported Blacks in South Africa, men who supported the feminist struggle, Jews who supported Blacks in the United States. What do you say to that?” In truth I didn’t need that particular activist to understand what’s happening here. Suffice to read all those who write from their heated homes, enjoying their high-speed internet in their quaint neighbourhood in Haifa, Tel Aviv, Toronto, New York and Berlin.
I decided to check what say Masafer Yatta’s residents, being after all the main subjects and narrators of the Oscar-winning story. Let’s assume for a moment that its protagonist, Basel Adra, himself a resident of Masafer Yatta, is the real owner of the film’s narrative, and has every right to express himself however he sees fit, including choosing who to work with. This is after all the meaning of the freedom we yearn for so much as oppressed Palestinians. But again, let’s leave that aside, because Basel may have fallen for Yuval’s enchanting Zionist sorcery, blinded by the light of fame promised by the Jews. Let’s check what say the ordinary people, the families and activists still living in villages in the South Hebron Hills, forced to contend with bulldozers, settlers, and the soldiers who back those settlers every single day.
Iftar for all the activists
Head of Susya local council, Jihad al Nawja’a: “I don’t know what the boycott folks are talking about. What do they want from us? I want you to quote me word for word. I swear, after years of struggle, confrontations, arrests, beatings and demolitions, I know — I don’t think, I know, that without people like Yuval (Abraham) and the Jewish activists from Israel and the world, half of the lands of Masafer Yatta would be expropriated and flattened by now.
“Our Summud (steadfastness and remaining in place) here is indebted to their help. As far as I’m concerned, Yuval is much more a Palestinian than most of those social media commenters attacking him. He’s a Palestinian to the core. He’s Jewish, Israeli, but he understands what’s happening here just as well as I do, and he chose to stand with us. Yuval and dozens like him have lived with us, eaten with us, sat in our homes and confronted the soldiers and settlers with us daily. I invite all the critics to switch off their air conditioning and drive over, live with us for one week, and then let’s see them calling on me to boycott the film”.
Another activist, a teacher by profession, whose home has been demolished several times, asked to remain anonymous: “Frankly I’m sick of the criticism and of people who don’t know who we are and how we survive here preaching to us what to do, what to film and how to tell the story. I’m really proud of Basel and Yuval for the movie. They say it was a five-year movie (to produce, author’s note) and I’m telling you that this struggle’s been going on for 20 years now, as we’re forgotten in the caves and nobody cares. Without this movie, who would know about Umm al Hir or Susya and their story?
“I’m going to cook an Iftar meal now for all the Jewish, Christian and Muslim activists living with us here, I invite everyone to spend the night here in the blistering cold together. The settlers might attack us before dawn, and we’ll need their help”.
An activist from another village: “I’m ashamed of all the attackers and critics, instead of supporting Yuval and Basel and contributing to our struggle, even with an online comment, this is what they choose to do, to preach and teach us what the Palestinian struggle really needs. I open the door to any activist who wants to help, regardless where they’re from. Their voice is important. There’s a difference between a Zionist and a Jew, between a settler and an Israeli from the Left who’s against the Occupation. I can’t put them all in one basket, I just can’t. This movie shines a light on our life in a way that no suited-up, multilingual Palestinian politician has dared do. I don’t know anyone from Masafer Yatta who thinks otherwise. If there’s criticism over Basel making a film with a Jew, I invite any Palestinian who wants to make a movie, even just for TikTok and not for the Oscars, to come over and we’ll help. The main thing is to continue raising our voices”.
I wondered what’s common to all these voices and the ideas that led to attacks on the film and its makers. What actually bothered them?
My first explanation is psychological. Indeed, it’s very hard for us now in the shadow of the protracted trauma. Desperation takes over and it’s difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel — in this case, the cave. A cruel war, refugees, hostages, the annihilation of Gaza and the Air Force’s drones, along with the nutcases in the Israeli government, who reign terror on us all, threatening to restart the meat grinder.
Within this darkness, to watch a movie laboured over by Israeli and Palestinian partners, standing together on the stage, stubbornly dreaming of a different future: that’s scary. That hope is scary, because hoping for peace has become a daring act. The thought, dream, vision that we deserve a different future, this very thought is frightening, because it implies a call to action, while not all of us dare to act. And so, sinking into despair is a kind of respite in this reality.
The second explanation relates to the parallel reality in the virtual realm of ratings, likes, and shares. Many, including keyboard warriors, take pleasure in their ability to be active through the screen by writing, attacking, analysing, and throwing words around. It’s much easier than driving from Nazareth to Masafer Yatta and protesting there. I tried it out several times, once in Yuval’s dodgy car. I couldn’t believe he did this regularly, going from hill to hill, from checkpoint to checkpoint at night in the middle of nowhere. I was so very moved by his devotion and determination to continue the journey till the end.
We need black and white, good and bad. The image of the four winners together does not sit well with us, because it forces us to deal with difficult and complicated options for a future political solution. Therefore this must be delegitimised and denigrate this partnership with our most handy tools: purism, the BDS movement’s stamp of (dis)approval, undermining and doubting one’s intentions.
I can sympathise with those keyboard warriors who’ve convinced themselves they’re doing their part in the struggle through social media. This is important and necessary activism these days, and online discussions must continue. The struggle will be consolidated and the story heard, but meanwhile we need people like Yuval Avraham, Racheli Szor, and dozens of activists on the ground, in the villages, with the locals in real time. In the words of one of the interviewees: “You don’t want to come here, no problem. Just don’t attack those who are here with us, because talking is cheap and easy. Those who can’t reach the tall grapes will say that they’re sour”, he concluded.
My third explanation relates to the image of Palestinian-Israeli partnership portrayed in the film. This is nowadays a rare portrayal and is supposedly meant to be hidden away. But to insist upon the global stage that this actually exists? That’s simply too much for many of us, certainly not in this particular moment after one and a half years of war and bloodshed with tens of thousands of victims, a war backed by those who seek to divide, incite, and defeat us. After all this war emerged from the “us or them” cesspool, intended to finally end this saga with a final solution, right? And in that victory shot, against the ruins, only one flag will fly, and it is etched very clearly in the minds of most Israelis with its two very distinct colours.
There is no victory shot, of course, and there won’t be one. And meanwhile a group of young Jews and Palestinians show the world a different picture. How’s the Zionist mind meant to cope? How can it contemplate a political solution, and declarations such as “our people will be completely safe the moment Basel’s people will be completely free”?
Similarly, the victory shot makes it hard for Palestinian activism abroad to accept that the vision of our future here includes non-Palestinian partners, Jews who don’t shoot and kill Palestinians. On the contrary, they defend them with their bodies. It is challenging to contemplate this during a war and embrace this imagined reality. We need it to be black and white, good and bad. The image of the four winners doesn’t sit well with us because it forces us to contend with complex prospects of political resolution. Therefore this must be delegitimised and denigrate this partnership with our most handy tools: purism, the BDS movement’s stamp of (dis)approval, undermining and doubting one’s intentions, and the sophistication of those involved, seeking out any Zionist funders who may have supported the film, which simply isn’t the case in this instance.
Today I am convinced that most of us Palestinians and Jews between the Jordan River and the sea, as well as abroad, must admit that the bleeding wound into which we were born affects our ability to accommodate, be compassionate, and identity with one another. Within the collective cluster of disabilities borne of our dark reality, we can’t even watch a good movie in peace.
