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Sabra, Shatila massacre, collective amnesia
Comment
Gilad Atzmon
IN the 1982 Lebanon War, Ari Folman was a 19-year-old IDF infantry
soldier. Twenty four years later, in 2006, Folman is surprised to
find out that he does not remember a thing from that war or the
massacres in Sabra and Shatila. “Waltz With Bashir” is a
breath-taking new Israeli film, an animated documentary directed by
Ari Folman. The film is a journey into Folman’s lost past. The
documentary is set as a chain of animated interviews and
conversations between Folman and his military associates,
psychologists and Ron Ben Yishai, the legendary Israeli TV reporter
who was among the first to report on the Sabra and Shatila
massacres.
The film, to a certain extent, is a very brave individual attempt to
deal with the devastating collective Israeli past, and the massacres
in Sabra and Shatila in particular. However, we are asked to
remember that the massacres in the Palestinian refugee camps, though
set up by the Israeli Army, were physically carried out by the
Lebanese Christian Phalangists.
This may explain why the Israelis are so enthusiastic about the
film. It wasn’t them who made the actual kill. On the other hand,
loving the film portrays them as first-rate humanists. They
allegedly deal with their dark past. At the same time, Mohamed
Bakri’s “Jenin, Jenin”, a film that tells the story of the Jenin
massacre, a murderous assault committed by IDF soldiers, was not at
all approved by the Israeli people.
As one would expect, in the film about the Sabra and Shatila
massacre, the IDF soldier is somehow a victim. He is part of a big
war machine, he follows orders. The individual soldier is powerless,
he cannot stop the massacre, he can only report to his superiors.
Alternatively he can shoot and cry in retrospect, or, as in Folman’s
case, he can deal with amnesia or repression.
Cleverly and beautifully done, the entire film is animated, which
allows us to assume that every retrieved memory or spoken past
narrative may be a constructed one. However, the last scene of the
film is real footage. It takes us to the devastated refugee camps
and the Palestinian sobbing. It is there to tell us: “This footage
is not animated deconstruction. This is a real massacre that took
place under our noses.”
I was myself an IDF soldier at exactly the same time and in the same
war. This war launched a personal journey that led me eventually to
leave Israel, with the decision never to come back. I am now far
more involved in issues to do with Palestinian discourse than I
would ever be in Israel.
Being overwhelmed with the quality and the transparency of the film,
there are some general points that must be made. It seems that it is
actually Israelis and ex-Israelis who are producing the most
eloquent and sharp criticism of Israel, Zionism and the Jewish
identity.
We may not agree amongst ourselves on many issues, yet we agree on
one thing. This disaster in Palestine is our damn business. Unlike
the very few sporadic Western Jews who loudly pop out once a month
to collectively shout, Not in My Name, we know that, unfortunately,
it is all done in our names. The film is a smashing success in
Israel. The Israelis love to weep collectively, and to express
regret for the Christian Phalangists who killed on their behalf.
They apparently come out of the film saying, Only here, in our
wonderful free country, can we confront our past so bravely Israel
loves to portray itself as an open, liberal society. If I am correct
here, this is indeed a very clever, sinister and calculated
decision.
It presents the Israeli not only as a humanist; it even manages to
plant rabid Zionist institutions at the heart of the Palestinian
solidarity discourse. Moreover, as long as Israel manages to
generate some harsh form of self-disapproval, not much room for
critical maneuvering is left for Israel’s real enemies. As much as
we happen to despise Israel and Zionist institutions, we’d better
learn to admit their sophistication.
Following the screening at the London Jewish Film Festival, there
was a short Q & A session with David Polonsky, the art director of
the film. I asked him a simple question: If the Israelis find it so
difficult to remember what happened to them just 26 years ago, how
is it that every Israeli remembers exactly what happened in Europe
between 1942 and 1944?
Polonsky couldn’t really provide an answer. The film however offers
two possible answers, both provided by Folman’s psychologist friend.
The memory is a construction, it has little to do with reality, says
the psychologist. Apparently, Israeli and Jewish institutions, as
well as individuals, are very productive in constructing and
manufacturing a personal and collective memory of Jewish suffering.
Suffering inflicted by Jews, on the other hand, is rather repressed
in the contemporary Israeli and Jewish culture.
— Arab News |
