yorick’s yearnings

Miral is quite an infamous movie. Infamous for its pro-palestinian perspective, its substantive lack of depth, subjectivity and even for the audacity of casting a “bollywood actress” for the female leading character. Much of this critic is not rightly deserved but might be due to the nature of expectations derived from Schnabel’s earlier movies, like Le scaphandre et le papillon.

While some or the critic can be rejected outright, the major problems remain. In fact, at least regarding my restricted talents, the movie as such is extremely challenging. First, there is the style in which Schnabel creates movies, his many different techniques, styles, blends that some times do not fit and are not always convincing (especially in the end when he does a sacrifice to popular taste by adding Tom Waits to Hind’s funeral).

The more challenging (and more fruitful) problem is posed by the perspective which, in a way, is similar to that of Le scaphandre et le papillon, as it is completely restricted to one view. While in the early movie, the perspective largely was that of the French editor Bauby – going as far as locking the audience into his body and looking through his eyes – the latter movie takes a strictly Palestinian position. This is very restricted and can be discussed in multiple (not necessarily negative) ways. First, the stories of the three main female characters: Hind, Nadia and Miral. Even though all of them remain somewhat anaemic, all of them face in their very own way a reality which forces them into action but which they cannot shape. In the end, the real hero of the movie turns out not to be Miral, who, like their mother leaves a desperate existence behind. The true hero is Hind al-Husseini, who is portrayed as a flawless saint, coming from some kind of a fairy tale long turned into forgotten history (illustrated by the old maps of the middle east shown in the beginning of the movie), struggling to turn wretched refugees and orphans into emancipated personalities able to carry on the fate of the Palestinian people. Of course, she fails. Not because of the archaic, traditionally patriarchal structure of the Palestinian society (which is thematized in a somewhat marginal way while telling Nadia’s story). Not because the invading Israelis, who mostly are portrayed as a dark, violent and alien force, but because of the frictions within the Palestinian society itself.

True, Israel is the bad guy in this film – but that is the Palestinian perspective on the matter, be it right or wrong. But the fact that most Israelis represent not real human beings, but a somewhat impersonal power, can be interpreted at least in two different ways. First, it can be seen as plainly anti-Semitic – the fact that the only “real” Israeli in the movie, a girl from Haifa that befriends Miral against her will, does not fit into the stereotype at all is no argument against it. Yet, I still am somewhat hesitant to apply this interpretation. The movie as such is – even though it is full with Hind’s social commitment and the political fight of Palestinian resistance movements – a completely anti-political movie, as Julian Schnabel himself pointed out. Like the historian Jacob Burckhardt 150 years ago, Schnabel portrays political power itself as evil and corrupting. It is not just the Israelis who distort a peaceful life. The Palestinians destroy themselves and their hopes for a better future by their political radicalism and their intolerance. In the end, Miral’s love, the Palestinian terrorist, not only seems to be refined and ready to make peace with Israel, but he also – and consequently – is murdered by his own people for his deviance. This murder destroy Miral’s dreams as effectively as the intifada and the political engagement of her pupils have destroyed Hind’s – and while Hind in the end is shown sitting in her empty school, old, deeply afflicted and lonely, the only perspective for Miral lies in leaving her country for good. In the end, all of them turn out to be a simple flower at the roadside, helpless watching how the wheels keep turning.

The movie has many minor defaults, above all because it fails to create multi-faceted, developing protagonists. But it gives an impressive account on the Palestininan perspective of the Mideast conflict and shows at the same time, why there are no simple solutions, even with regards to only one of the warring factions. To get an idea of the whole picture, however, a deeper involvement with the Israeli view also would be necessary.

I promised to write these ramblings long ago – and they indeed are ramblings, because they still are largely unorganized and very subjective. This strain of thoughts has accompanied me for quite some time now, resurfacing every now and then and has indeed become some kind of a nuisance, because it touches many areas I do not feel comfortable about at all. All this has been triggered by a series of posts by Adi on a conference in Cyprus he attended a couple of weeks ago. Being a non-Jewish German, it was particularly hard for me. That the German-Jewish relationship is far from normal has often been assessed. Personally, I do believe that it is especially difficult when both sides are somewhat open-minded and up for dialogue; only in these situation, the particular sensitivities become relevant. All this creates a feeling of deep-rooted insecurity, which coins the behavior of Germans and Jews as well. My personal consequences of all this has so far been that I hardly ever spoke in general terms about Israel, mid-East-policies or even Palestinians or Jews in public. Looking on the conference in Cyprus, I do believe that many German participants must have felt that way.

One of the leading questions in my life is not the classical “where do we come from, where are we going”-thing; instead, I am looking for a reliable base for an anthropological and inter-cultural self-definition of Man. Thus, the question of origin (in a religious sense) does not become totally irrelevant, but it currently seems negligible to me. I do not believe (at least it is not provable) that our identity is shaped by some kind of higher Being. However, origin does of course play a role, but “how” our identity is influenced highly differs from individual to individual. There might be strong group identities (Adi frequently refers to the Palestinian participants of the conference) but he soon observes that these never are monolithic, they are subject to change. This change originates in our individual approach to social encounters, in our biography, our readings – all we do, observe, and reflect upon. It was, I think, Gadamer, who once said that he is far from remembering all the books he read and what has been written in them, but that nevertheless every single page had shaped a bit of his individuality.

But as this changes relies on many and – more often than not – contradicting sources, it is a very slow process that spans may years. And in the end, its course is very hard to predict, it might even not happen at all. The results of our actions match our intentions only very rarely. However, the concept of enforcing this process by creating conflicts and situations that make us question ourselves as well as others, that make us enter a dialogue, certainly is a worthwile idea – at least if one is willing to develop (wherever this development might lead us to).

Palestinian identity seems to be highly determined by a basic construction: “us” (= the victims) and “them” (= the Israelis). This is a very obvious reflection on everyday life in the Territories, but there is more about it. “Them” is an integral founding part of the own self; it would be far more difficult to have a common “us” without it. This is one reason why Adi characterizes the behaviour of the Palestinians at the conference with words like “dominant”, “aggressive” and their argument centered around the personal situation of so many people in the territories.

I regard this kind of behavior as understandable, even as a certain characteristic of being human. However, the reaction of rejecting this “wall of pain” by clinging to one’s own wounds is also a classic human behavior in order to defend oneself and to avoid the feeling of guilt. The Palestinian idea of Israel as being an aggressive oppressor is correct – from a Palestinian point of view; and there would be no Israeli rejecting the notion that Jewish immigrants came into a land that for a long time had been settled by another people, and that this land has been taken to build the state of Israel. It would have (and indeed has been) naive to assume that this process could go on without conflicts. Indeed, Herzl’s idea can even be traced to an European notion of a ‘manifest destiny’ and bears signs of a colonialist concept, which should give every reader of Hannah Arendt some pains. There is a lot of guilt and moral ambiguity in this.

On the other Hand, Israel is needed. It is needed not because every nation has the right to have its own state in its homeland. It is needed, because the European Nations (and foremost the Germans) have not been able to live together in peace with a minority of strangers. It is needed, because nearly all people of the world (including the Arabs) have proven to be adamant being confronted with the first duty of humanity: helping those who are threatened, persecuted and killed. It is too easy to blame everything on the Germans alone (then, Ahmadinejad would indeed be correct in suggesting that the Jewish state should be built in Austria and Germany). What about the by-standers, the people who closed their eyes and borders or even helped in the killing? It is needed because the Jewish people has the right to have a place of peace, a place that offers security, a place it can organize, control and govern according to its own wishes.

This place happens to be in the Mideast. There simply is no option of relocating it. Many of the Jewish immgrants have fled there from all places of the known world. Where should they go next? To the moon?

Seen this way, the question of Israeli guilt should be reviewed again. Contrary to Adi, I do believe that comparisons with the Shoah are not generally out of place here.

I know this seems to be a shocking statement, especially for victims of the 3^rd Reich. Of course, the situation in the territories is not the same, it is not even close to what happened in Germany, occupied Europe and in Vichy-France between 1933 and 1945. But this is what comparisons are all about: To show similarities and differences. Comparing a pea and an apple will prove that both are round – but the key finding will be they are entirely different. But without the comparison, it will be hard to understand this difference. This argument is necessary, not so much because we have to convince the Palestinian that now it is their turn to suffer, but because we have to convince the world.

We have to convince it that the Israeli guilt is caused by us, the European States, America, all those who neglected their duty of helping when the Jews were at the brink of extermination. This is not said to relieve Israel of the responsibility for its actions towards the Palestinians. But in the end, it is us who are accountable for the Israeli guilt first of all – and this demands that we are the ones who have to even things out again. Of course, this cannot be done against either Israelis or Palestinians. We cannot force one side into a compromise. But we can – and have to act as mediators. We have to protect the agreements, and we have to guarantee a stable situation an a certain prosperity for all in the region. This might sound idealistic, but it is totally clear to me that a mediator has to be honest, robust and reliable towards all sides; and there is a good chance that in the end, it might even be the cheapest possible solution, in all currencies of this world: blood and money.